They hadn’t arrived a moment too soon.
Getting her into the helicopter was difficult, getting her on the stretcher, no easier. She’d been limp, and because of that, dead weight. She’d floated back into unconsciousness for a while after he’d gotten her into the helicopter and before he’d pulled up the rescue gear. A few minutes, not a whole lot more.
She grimaced and then squinted as if she couldn’t focus. She wasn’t looking at anything; in fact, her eyes were half-closed and hidden by long dark lashes. Her eyes opened a little wider but again remained unfocused on either him or anything else.
He remembered those eyes so full of intelligence and passion. He remembered the vivid blue piercing challenge of them and he remembered the vulnerability behind her shrewd intellect. Despite what he’d told himself over the years, he’d forgotten nothing about her. He pushed the thoughts from his mind. Irrelevant. He needed to keep her safe, get her warm and get her to the hospital.
The only assessment he could make was that she didn’t seem to be seeing him. She wasn’t looking at him or around him—instead it was as if she didn’t see him or anything else at all. It was like she was asleep with her eyes open.
“What happened, Ava?” he asked in an undertone. Sam had moved from the winch just behind him up to the copilot seat beside Jer. Faisal was alone with Ava. Her misty blue gaze seemed to float past him, not taking him in or even her surroundings. She seemed to slip in and out of awareness. Her moments of lucidity were sometimes just moments of opening her eyes. She was unfocused as if nothing was part of her reality. He didn’t expect an answer. He wasn’t sure why he had asked the question. She was in a fragile state but at least now she had a chance. He hoped that they could say the same about her father, Dan Adams.
“Dad,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. But that one word wasn’t an answer, it only raised more questions.
“No, Ava. It’s me, Faisal.” He looked at the face that he remembered so well. The high cheekbones were pale, taut over the bones of her face. A few freckles that he hadn’t known she had seemed to stand out against her pale skin. There was so little that had changed and yet so much. She’d been twenty the last time he’d seen her and he’d been twenty-two. For the majority of the years since then, he’d headed the Wyoming branch of Nassar Security. He hadn’t forgotten Ava. He’d gone one way and she’d gone another. She’d continued with her schooling. He’d heard from Emir only weeks ago that she’d graduated with a PhD in psychology. Life had happened to them and their friendship had slipped under the radar for a time.
There had always been the promise of something more. But she’d been too young and he’d been with someone else. They’d been friends but always there had been the hint of something more. In another time, if he had been wiser things might have been different.
Seconds later, she opened her eyes. He was startled, for it looked like she had been crying. As if she knew, even in her half-conscious state, that she’d been the sole survivor. She closed her eyes again without having focused on him or on anything else in the chopper. It was like she was there and yet wasn’t.
“How’s she doing?” Jer asked.
“In and out of consciousness,” he said.
“He killed him,” she murmured a few minutes later as she opened and then again closed her eyes.
There was no point asking who. Sooner or later she would come to and then she would remember and be able to tell him what had happened. If it was too much later, they would find the information by other means.
He pulled another blanket over her. He reached for a third, rolled it and put it under her calves, thus elevating her legs. At least the fact that she’d shivered was evidence that she hadn’t fallen too far into her unconscious state.
He needed to get some heat on her. More important, he knew that he had to get her out of the wet clothes that clung to her skin. The wet material was only chilling her even further and making the blanket useless. He pulled the blankets back, using one of them to shield what he could of her body. He peeled away the flimsy material. Her skin was damp. He tried to preserve her modesty. But there was only so much he could do. He left her panties on. They were damp too but what he’d done had been enough. At least she wouldn’t arrive in the emergency room completely naked. Not that it mattered, but yet it did matter and he wasn’t sure why. He tucked another blanket around her.
He put a hand on Ava’s forehead. The contact sent a tingle through his hand as if there were still a connection between them. But there was nothing, all of that was over. It was stupid of him to think of that. Silly to remember something that had been nothing but a flirtatious friendship despite what he had wanted. It had been a long time ago. They were different people. He was sure she’d changed, much as he had. He regretted not following up with her. If he had then he’d know who she’d become, what had happened to the happy girl with the quick wit. He took his attention to the immediate. She was warm. There was a sheen to her forehead, like a fever might be developing. Her forehead was moist and not, he knew, from her time in the dinghy. He hoped she didn’t have a fever but the heat he was feeling didn’t bode well. It didn’t matter. They would get her to the hospital and she’d be fine. It was the location of her father that was more disconcerting. For his fate was unknown.
“Dad,” she murmured.
This time there was expectation in the way she said the word, as if she thought her father might make an appearance.
“Find my father,” she said in a breathy whisper.
“It’s Faisal,” he said, hoping that his voice might somehow bring her back to consciousness.
He leaned closer. “You’re alright.” It wasn’t a question but a statement meant to reassure her, to let her know that she was no longer alone.
She pushed him away but it was barely a tap as her one hand dropped and her other didn’t even lift. Nor did she open her eyes. Her head moved to the side as if she were trying to do more but was too weak. “Kill...”
“What?” Sam asked.
“What the hell?” Jer’s voice came through the headset. “What’s she talking about? Kill who, what?”
“I wish I knew,” Faisal said. His attention never left her face. But Ava had closed her eyes again as if that one disturbing word was too much. “Maybe something about what she’s been through. Maybe nothing.”
“Nothing. I doubt that,” Jer replied. “Kill is a fairly intense word in any context.”
“True,” Faisal agreed.
“I’ve been in contact with Miami’s Mercy Hospital. They’re the closest and they’re expecting us.” Jer’s voice came over his earpiece. “Contacted Search and Rescue too. They’ll pass the info on that we’ve found Ava Adams.”
Below, the ocean swept out around them but there was no sign of the missing yacht nor was there any sign of land. Wherever Dan Adams was, they could only hope he was alive and could hang on. The horizon stretched out in front of them and seemed to mock the fact that help was now minutes away.
* * *
BEN WHYTE ROLLED over and moaned. The sun was glaring in his eyes and he couldn’t stand to look at it. He’d dragged himself to shore in the wee hours of the night. He’d lost track of time during a swim that had seemed to go on forever. He hadn’t realized that he’d been that far from shore. It was all supposed to be so much easier than it actually had been. The dispute and resulting fight should never have happened.
Dan Adams, he thought with disdain. The man was an idiot. He hadn’t thought so only days ago, but it was clear now. Dan had signed his own death certificate by admitting what he knew and then confronting him with it. The Dan of the past would never have done that. He would have silently turned him in.