Brandon Barlow-Barrett’s brush with death. Nor should there be. At most, she would be a scandal, an embarrassment.
She stared into the flames crackling and snapping in the fireplace and could envision the headlines. Newspaper Tycoon Holed Up With Stripper. Did In-flight Hanky-panky Lead to Mountain Crash? Yeah. Not what the Barlow-Barretts would want published. Not what she wanted published either. Lucy had worked damn hard to keep her personal identity and her professional one separate. She lived in a quiet residential neighborhood. It was working class, but they were nice people. Publicity like this could tarnish Brandon’s future, but it could annihilate hers.
* * * *
Matt spent the night pouring over maps of the area between Falcon’s Head and Coyote Creek. According to Jim Hanson, there was a dead area in the vicinity of Haven Lake where it could be difficult if not impossible to get out a radio signal. But he knew he’d gotten out of there on his cellphone, yet when he tried Brandon’s he still got dumped into voicemail over and over again. He and Jim both considered Haven Lake a logical starting point to begin looking at first light. It was one of the few areas between the two towns where it might be possible to land a small plane in an emergency.
If they weren’t there, Matt knew the chances of finding anyone alive would be remote. He didn’t even want to think about it. Brandon had been one of his best friends–was still one of his best friends, he corrected himself. They would find him. They would find Tom Hanson and Brandon’s woman, Lucy. He’d seen the look on Bran’s face. Brandon wouldn’t let someone like her slip away without a fight. Matt was counting on determination from all three of them. Tom Hanson had survived Vietnam. He was an excellent pilot under pressure. Brandon, despite his rich-boy upbringing, was mentally and physically tough. Lucy, he didn’t know well, but she had the same look about her. She was a fighter, not some weak-kneed woman who’d lie down and cry at the first sign of trouble.
He’d gotten a call from Brandon’s father when the Barrett Newspapers jet touched down in Denver. Matt told him he and Jim were going up in a helicopter along with other search crews at first light. He wanted Brandon’s father under no false idea he would be waiting on him to arrive before they began their search. That was not happening. Even if the three of them had survived an emergency landing, chances were they were all injured. Depending on the extent of those injuries, they were now in a race against time to save them.
* * * *
Lucy stirred as the sky began to lighten. She tried to remember how long they had been in the air when she’d noticed Haven Lake. It seemed to her it was closer to Falcon’s Head than it was to Coyote Creek. The search would no doubt be based out of Falcon’s Head. Out of habit, she checked her watch, then sighed. It too had become a casualty of the crash. She would have to guess the time. She wanted to give it about fifteen minutes past the point where she figured they would take off. Then she would light the flare and double check to ensure the SOS she’d created last night was still visible.
Brandon slept. For that she was grateful. She had checked on him a couple of times during the night, so she knew the sleep was natural, not something induced either by concussion or coma. She had no more pain medication to give him. If someone didn’t find them today, she wasn’t sure what she would do. His ankle needed attention, but she had no way to give it. With a soft groan, she slipped her boots on, followed by her jacket. After grabbing the flare and a box of matches, she stepped out into a world of white and gray. Little stirred in the morning light, just the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.
Lucy walked to where she’d laid out her crude SOS in logs. It was still visible. She looked over her shoulder at the cabin. The glow from the fire
She stared into the flames crackling and snapping in the fireplace and could envision the headlines. Newspaper Tycoon Holed Up With Stripper. Did In-flight Hanky-panky Lead to Mountain Crash? Yeah. Not what the Barlow-Barretts would want published. Not what she wanted published either. Lucy had worked damn hard to keep her personal identity and her professional one separate. She lived in a quiet residential neighborhood. It was working class, but they were nice people. Publicity like this could tarnish Brandon’s future, but it could annihilate hers.
* * * *
Matt spent the night pouring over maps of the area between Falcon’s Head and Coyote Creek. According to Jim Hanson, there was a dead area in the vicinity of Haven Lake where it could be difficult if not impossible to get out a radio signal. But he knew he’d gotten out of there on his cellphone, yet when he tried Brandon’s he still got dumped into voicemail over and over again. He and Jim both considered Haven Lake a logical starting point to begin looking at first light. It was one of the few areas between the two towns where it might be possible to land a small plane in an emergency.
If they weren’t there, Matt knew the chances of finding anyone alive would be remote. He didn’t even want to think about it. Brandon had been one of his best friends–was still one of his best friends, he corrected himself. They would find him. They would find Tom Hanson and Brandon’s woman, Lucy. He’d seen the look on Bran’s face. Brandon wouldn’t let someone like her slip away without a fight. Matt was counting on determination from all three of them. Tom Hanson had survived Vietnam. He was an excellent pilot under pressure. Brandon, despite his rich-boy upbringing, was mentally and physically tough. Lucy, he didn’t know well, but she had the same look about her. She was a fighter, not some weak-kneed woman who’d lie down and cry at the first sign of trouble.
He’d gotten a call from Brandon’s father when the Barrett Newspapers jet touched down in Denver. Matt told him he and Jim were going up in a helicopter along with other search crews at first light. He wanted Brandon’s father under no false idea he would be waiting on him to arrive before they began their search. That was not happening. Even if the three of them had survived an emergency landing, chances were they were all injured. Depending on the extent of those injuries, they were now in a race against time to save them.
* * * *
Lucy stirred as the sky began to lighten. She tried to remember how long they had been in the air when she’d noticed Haven Lake. It seemed to her it was closer to Falcon’s Head than it was to Coyote Creek. The search would no doubt be based out of Falcon’s Head. Out of habit, she checked her watch, then sighed. It too had become a casualty of the crash. She would have to guess the time. She wanted to give it about fifteen minutes past the point where she figured they would take off. Then she would light the flare and double check to ensure the SOS she’d created last night was still visible.
Brandon slept. For that she was grateful. She had checked on him a couple of times during the night, so she knew the sleep was natural, not something induced either by concussion or coma. She had no more pain medication to give him. If someone didn’t find them today, she wasn’t sure what she would do. His ankle needed attention, but she had no way to give it. With a soft groan, she slipped her boots on, followed by her jacket. After grabbing the flare and a box of matches, she stepped out into a world of white and gray. Little stirred in the morning light, just the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.
Lucy walked to where she’d laid out her crude SOS in logs. It was still visible. She looked over her shoulder at the cabin. The glow from the fire
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