Stranded. Alice SharpeЧитать онлайн книгу.
simply as The Shatterhorn Killer and not by name, a tribute to those he killed or caused to die. Anyway, he’s dead now, thanks to an unidentified driver Nate saw purposefully run him down with a car. This same man was also behind the shooting at the Shatterhorn mall and apparently, him and others like him have been responsible for all sorts of mayhem occurring on national holidays around the country. Remember that incident in Hawaii last Pearl Harbor Day where some angry kid shot and killed those off-duty soldiers on the beach? Things like that. Everyday events shattered by violence. And everyone is certain something is going to happen this Memorial Day, too.”
Alex stared at her a moment, trying to make sense of all this. “But you said the guy was run over.”
“There are apparently others. Even if this man wasn’t in Blunt Falls when your plane was sabotaged, he could have hired someone to help him do it.”
Alex simply couldn’t wrap his head around any of it. The lonely austerity of the mountains suddenly seemed like the epicenter of civilization and this place a jungle. “Why would anyone do this?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s complicated, Alex. Something about creating terror for people engaged in normal, ordinary situations so they won’t support any kind of weapon control. It’s domestic terrorism but with a spin. They call themselves patriots and they recruit malcontent kids to do the dirty work. It’s been in the news lately, but I’ve been a little distracted.... Nate can tell you more and I know the FBI and FAA are going to want to talk to you, too.”
Welcome home, he thought. Here all this time he’d assumed he’d been in an everyday kind of plane crash, no intrigue, no drama, just rotten luck and maybe a bad gasket or something. And now he was hearing someone may have tried to murder him.
The fact was the day of the crash was something of a blur. He hadn’t felt very good; he’d thought he was getting Jessica’s flu. He’d been tired and thirsty and out of it, and then the plunging oil pressure, so sudden and dramatic and final.
Could that have been caused by someone tampering with his plane? But he’d had the required maintenance performed on the plane—in fact, he was a stickler for that. He’d also conducted a preflight check. He could vaguely remember doing it although like everything else about that day, the recollection was hazy.
“We don’t know for sure that your crash was premeditated, but it’s awfully coincidental,” Jessica said, and he wasn’t positive but it sounded to him as though she was trying to ease some of his shock.
“Yeah,” he said. He took a deep breath before trying to shy away from all of this for a moment. “How about you?” he asked. “How have you been? Did anyone try to harm you?”
“No, I’ve been fine,” she said, and then shook her head. “That’s not true. I’ve been a wreck.”
“In some odd way, I’m glad to hear it,” he admitted. He took a deep breath. “I’ve had all sorts of time to regret what I said that last morning. I shouldn’t have even suggested you were lying to me about having the flu.”
“I wasn’t making it up, you know. I really did feel sick.”
“I know. I think I had a touch of it, too. It’s just that we’d been going our own ways so often that it was beginning to feel like we’d never hook back up.”
“I know,” she said.
“You began to say something earlier,” he added. “Something like, there being something worse than me being dead. You stopped yourself. What were you going to say? What would have been worse than me being dead?”
She blinked a few times and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “I don’t remember where I was going with that,” she said at last.
Their gazes met and she looked away. She may not have been lying about having a virus but she was lying now, he was sure of it. He wanted to demand she explain, but he couldn’t bring himself to further distance her. The warmth they’d shared in her classroom had evaporated as soon as they hit the house. How ironic would it be to survive what he’d survived just to lose everything that really mattered?
But had he really thought he could waltz back in here and erase the past year or two of tension between them with a few kisses and an apology?
“We can try again,” he said very softly, searching her face.
“Try again? What do you mean?” she asked.
“Having a baby. I know you said before that you were finished hoping but I’ve been thinking about that, too. The doctor might have been wrong. We could consult another specialist.”
“Please, Alex,” she said, staring into his eyes. “This is all too much. An hour ago I thought I’d never see you again. There are things we need to discuss.” She smiled and added, “That’s a real understatement.”
There was a sudden knock on the front door and they both turned their heads and stared into the living room as though expecting an invasion.
“I think our time before the blitz is about up,” he said as the doorbell chimed. He could hear voices coming from outside and more knocks seemed to rattle the windows. “Continue with what you were saying,” he urged.
“Not now, not like this,” she said with a shake of her head. She pushed a few strands of hair away from her face and smiled. “Later, okay? I’ll go stick these clothes in the bedroom. Will you answer the door?”
“Might as well get it over with,” he said as he got to his feet. But for a second he stood there watching Jessica hurry into the kitchen with the basket on her hip. He knew she would take the back stairs up to their bedroom.
What he didn’t know was what she was trying to tell him.
Chapter Two
Jessica’s laptop sat on her desk. With barely a pause, she set the laundry basket aside and opened the computer. Within a few seconds, she was at her Facebook page where she spent several minutes deleting a post she’d made almost two months earlier and which she hoped and prayed Alex would never know existed.
What she’d written had seemed reasonable at the time, like turning over every rock, but now in light of what she knew, it seemed the very essence of double-crossing on her part.
She deleted all pertinent comments from friends and family and closed the laptop, able to really take a breath for the first time in an hour. Then she moved to the window and pulled aside the drape. From this vantage point, she could see all the media trucks parked outside. Several neighbors had wandered over, apparently curious about what was going on. Alex, a lone, weathered-looking figure, stood on the front lawn facing the crowd, his back to Jessica. After months of solitude, what must this day be like for him?
She hurried down the stairs, pausing to take a deep breath before going outside. They’d been a team once upon a time, like right after their marriage when no life-altering disappointments had pushed them apart. Could they be a team again?
Well, one thing was for sure. There was far too much at stake not to at least try. It was time to join Alex.
She stood to the side as he skirted questions, explaining how he’d survived and how he’d finally been able to get home. But reporters asking him about his plane and what went wrong got vague answers and he flatly refused to comment on the possibility of sabotage. He said it was too soon to talk like that, he needed more information.
Jessica was proud of the way he handled himself but not surprised. He could be a very articulate and commanding man when he wanted to be. Those qualities had drawn her to him in the first place and as she listened to him now, she once again wondered how they had grown so far apart.
When he saw her standing near, he extended his arm to welcome her to stand beside him and she did. Flashbulbs popped at the reunited, happy couple and she smiled as best she could.
Much later that night, she woke up in the middle of a dream whose details vanished upon