Damaged (Maggie O'Dell #8)

“If the medical condition or injury is serious, she may not be able to use the quick strop.” Kesnick practically hung out the open doorway. He leaned against his own cable, fighting the rain and wind, trying to watch for Liz.

He had double-checked the cable. A good thing, because Maggie was certain she wouldn’t be able to help this time. Not with the wind violently shoving the helicopter around. The roar made it difficult to hear even the voices inside her helmet.

“She’s gonna need to hurry.” Wilson sounded as tightly wound as the cable. “We gotta go. Command center is telling me ten minutes. Tops.”

“We can’t do this in ten minutes,” Kesnick told him. “She might be stabilizing someone on board.”

“I’m watching the clock. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Can someone go down and help her?” Maggie asked.

Silence. It was as if they didn’t want to acknowledge her presence.

Wilson had already put up a fuss about her being on his craft. He had complained to Liz as they geared up. Didn’t care that Maggie was standing right there.

“No one else is authorized to deploy except the rescue swimmer,” Wilson finally told her. “We can send down anything she needs. Anything that might help her. But we stay in the helicopter. Or we have to leave and send a cutter back.”

“You’d leave her down there?”

More silence.

“Sometimes you don’t have a choice. You follow the rules. I have a responsibility to the entire crew.”

“But the hurricane—”

“Exactly,” was his one-word answer. A pause, then, “Seven minutes, Kesnick.”

“You can’t just leave her.”

“Agent O’Dell, you do not have any authority in this craft. I do. Understand?”

“I don’t see her,” Kesnick yelled.

“Give her a tug.”

“Nothing.”

They waited.

Maggie’s heart pounded against her rib cage, the rhythm the same as the thump-thump of the rotors. Sweat rolled down her back and yet she felt chilled. She watched Wilson’s profile. Jaw clamped tight. His visor prevented her from seeing his eyes, but his hands were steady, fists clenched on the control. Beside him, Ellis was an exact contrast—head bobbing and twisting around, trying to see below.

“This is the Coast Guard,” Ellis yelled into the radio. “Restless Sole, can you hear me?”

“Five minutes,” Wilson said. “Where the hell is she?”

“Restless Sole, can you hear me?” Ellis shouted but only got static in response.

That’s when it hit Maggie. Restless Sole. Wasn’t that the name of Joe Black’s boat?

“No one’s answering,” Ellis said.

“Kesnick?”

“I don’t see her.”

“We have got to get the hell out of here. Pull her up, Kesnick. PULL HER UP NOW.”

Kesnick obeyed. The cable whined and spun. Maggie waited to see Liz come over the doorway. Instead, she saw Kesnick grab the cable and spin around to his pilots. He didn’t say a word as he held up the cable. It had been cut.





CHAPTER 65





Liz couldn’t do a thing as the cable whipped away from her and flew out of the cabin. Her lifeline was gone.

But she wouldn’t have left now anyway. Not without her dad.

She asked if she could bandage his hand. He held it up and against his chest, the front of his jumpsuit already drenched in blood.

“I’m okay, darling,” Walter insisted.

She recognized the woman from the beach. She had never seen the man who casually introduced himself as Joe Black, never letting the revolver slip from her temple.

“We’ll just all stay put for a while and the helicopter will go away.” Joe didn’t sound fazed.

“They won’t leave their rescue swimmer,” Walter said.

Liz couldn’t tell her dad that wasn’t the way it always worked. It had happened once after Katrina. The helicopter had been dangerously low on fuel and packed with injured survivors. Liz had told them to go ahead while she waited on an apartment rooftop with a dozen others, angry and impatient for their turn. It was nightfall before her aircrew was able to return.

“I’ll end up with three healthy specimens,” Joe continued to rant. “I don’t have enough ice but I suppose I could tether a couple of you to the back of the boat. Put life jackets on.”

“Specimens.” The woman spit it out like she was disgusted and certainly not afraid. “You’re gonna nickel-and-dime my body parts? Is that what you have in mind, young man?” She was holding her ankle but it didn’t stop her. “I’ll have you know that my husband was murdered for millions of dollars. Millions.”

Joe Black ignored the woman. He stood, braced inside the stairwell, blocking their way but also able to keep an eye on all of them. He’d tethered himself to the railing and was able to ride out the boat’s pitching back and forth. When Liz almost fell, the revolver swung down with her.