Chapter Fourteen
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Misti Cokes didn’t come running out of the house screaming for rescue. No, she just stomped. She slammed the front door behind her and marched away from the house; before they’d made it down the path to the house she was halfway to them. It was easy to identify her from the photos they’d been given but she now sported a shiner and a split lip, still freshly bleeding.
“I need you to fly me out of here. I don’t know who you are, but the man that lives here is a jackass and I plan on filing charges against him. If you don’t take me out of here I’ll file charges against you, too for not helping me.”
Her big blue eyes filled with tears and she crossed her arms over her breasts, quivering with equal parts fury and fright.
Chad held his palm up. “There’s no need for that, Ms. Cokes. We’ve been looking for you.”
The petite woman broke into sobs then, and let Chad wrap an arm around her shoulders to walk away from the house.
A tall man in ragged jeans and a gray Pink Floyd t-shirt jogged out of the house. “Misti, wait, honey.”
Was this Peter Wattman? An overgrown kid?
Chad glanced back but continued up the path to the helicopter. He made a spinning motion in the air and Jack began to wind the engine.
Wattman started to jog after Misti, but Rachel stepped into his path. “Back off, Mr. Wattman.”
“I don’t know who you people are but you’re trespassing. My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to sit down to lunch.”
“I’m not your fucking girlfriend, you damn whack job,” Misti screamed. Then she clambered into the passenger compartment of the 427.
Wattman tried to follow her but Rachel blocked his way, holding her palms up. Wattman’s bloodshot eyes turned mean and he reared his right hand over his left shoulder for a backhand swing, but Rachel saw it coming a mile away. She blocked the slap then stepped into his space, ramming a hard palm up under his chin. His teeth snapped shut and he staggered back and fell on his ass, looking stunned.
Rachel turned and jogged to the helicopter. She climbed into the cockpit and strapped in. As Jack lifted them up and away, she took pictures of Wattman and the house with her cellphone. She didn’t know if she would need them or not, but better to be safe than sorry.
* * *
Rachel gained a little more respect for Misti after they flew her away. The woman broke down a little bit but controlled it by the time they landed. It was obvious she was listening to Chad as he explained who they were and who had hired them.
There was very little anxiety landing this time, Rachel noted. Jack had been as good as his word and put them down softer than she could have imagined. As she was unstrapping he pulled a business card from a central cubby and handed it to her.
“I’m not staying—I have to get to another charter—but if you need anything let me know.” His kind eyes flicked to Chad and Misti walking toward the terminal. “If that little girl wants to press charges I can do up a witness statement that she was fine when I flew her out there two days ago.”
Rachel took the card and nodded. “Thanks, Jack. I’ll let you know.”
She started to move again but he put a hand on her arm. “And if you ever want to go up again, or maybe get your hand on the stick, you let me know. I own this company and I’m in Denver fairly frequently. Or you can come out here if you’re more comfortable in the desert. I have a few toys you can pick from.”
Rachel’s chest tightened at the incredible gift he was offering and it took her a moment to speak. “Thank you, sir. That would be an honor.”
Impulsively she reached across the console and hugged him. And as she stood beneath the desert sun, basking in the stinging rotor wash as he lifted off, she had a very strong feeling she would be coming back here.
* * *
They drove the Tahoe to the hotel to collect Carter and grab their bags. They also called the police so that the assault on her could be documented.
Rachel stood against the wall as Misti talked to the cops. Basically, she’d gotten cold feet. With her wedding fast approaching, she’d felt like a noose was tightening around her neck. Grabbing her two best friends they’d bolted for Las Vegas. Peter Wattman had approached them at a show, lavished money on them and made life exciting again. He had told Misti how amazing she was and that he could take care of her better than the guy in Colorado. Misti had fallen for it. Wattman had paid for the girlfriends to go home and Misti had flown away to his exotic desert hideaway…which had no cell phone service and a password protected wifi. Misti had been at his mercy.
“He changed as soon as we were alone. Promised he would take care of me but refused to let me do anything. But then he would turn on the charm and things would be easy again. I slept with him once consensually, but then he tried to force himself on me and I fought. I heard the helicopter outside and I bashed him on the head with a salad bowl. Then these guys came.”
She smiled up at Rachel and Rachel smiled back. Damn the kid was young. Rachel was glad she hadn’t spent any more time on the tarmac when they left though. It could have turned out much worse for Misti.
Vegas PD documented her injuries, took Jack’s information down and promised that charges would proceed.
“Let’s go home, kids,” Chad told them, grabbing his duffle. “Maybe I can still read my little girl a bedtime story.”
They piled into the Tahoe and hustled to catch the flight Carter had booked out of McCarran International Airport.
Her phone buzzed.
You’re killing me. What happened?
All is good. Running to catch flight home. Meet me at my house at 10?
YES!!!