Free fall at angel creek, p.1

Free Fall at Angel Creek, page 1

 

Free Fall at Angel Creek
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Free Fall at Angel Creek


  Free Fall at Angel Creek

  Synopsis

  Hundreds of people on Flight 402 vanish in an instant.

  When the airplane carrying her sister is reported missing, then later found a smoking wreck, Detective Dee Rawlings never had the chance to finally reconcile after years of estrangement. She’s desperate to find out why the plane crashed, but Dr. River Dawson, the exacting and relentless aircraft accident investigator, believes Dee’s good intentions are interfering with her case and wants her gone. All that changes when Dee discovers critical evidence that doesn’t add up.

  Dee and River must find a way to work together to solve the mystery of what happened to Flight 402, all while keeping their inconvenient and unprofessional attraction in check. Their search for answers at Angel Creek will risk their lives and maybe even their hearts.

  Praise for Julie Tizard

  Flight to the Horizon

  “Tizard’s years of dedicated service in the Air Force and as a professional pilot bring authenticity and a stark level of realism to the story and all of the flying related aspects. You can truly see her experience shine from her extensive knowledge…The action is fast paced and exciting. From the plane being damaged to the survival at sea I was on the edge of my seat. Tizard is a powerful storyteller.”—Kris’s Reviews

  “[T]he plane and the flying scenes were really good parts of this book. Tizard knows her stuff. Even when I didn’t understand what every button meant or every switch did, I was completely engrossed in the flying scenes. They were extremely exciting and good entertainment.”—Lez Review Books

  The Road to Wings

  “I have been unable to put down [this] book. Knowing nothing about the flying, I learned a lot and have much more appreciation of [Air Force pilot] training. Certainly the underlining of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell permeated throughout the book. Fortunately, that law is of the past, though remnants of bias linger. Thank you for a delightful read. Well done.”—Col. Margarethe Cammermeyer, US Army (Ret.), author of Serving in Silence

  “I felt like I was in the cockpit with these ladies time and time again in this book. I loved the romance, of course, but this one has a little more than just that. If you’re into military romance, learning new things, and/or planes, definitely check this one out.”—Kissing Backwards

  Free Fall at Angel Creek

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  By the Author

  The Road to Wings

  Flight to the Horizon

  Free Fall at Angel Creek

  Free Fall at Angel Creek

  © 2021 By Julie Tizard. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-885-2

  This Electronic Original Is Published By

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: October 2021

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Shelley Thrasher

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design by Susan Renee and Chris Rich

  eBook Design by Toni Whitaker

  Acknowledgments

  This book was written during a very difficult time for all of us. I’m so fortunate I had assistance from a wonderful team. My deepest appreciation goes to my editor, Shelley Thrasher. Your guidance and wisdom made my story better. And to my friend and very talented author, Justine Saracen, thank you for your keen insight and encyclopedic knowledge of grammar.

  Thanks to my dear friend, Deputy Sheriff Brian van Kleef, Washington County, Oregon, Public Information Officer, your expertise in law enforcement and interagency procedures was vital to the authenticity of this book.

  I would especially like to thank my special friend, exceptional writer, and overall badass, Chief VK Powell. Your generosity in sharing your vast knowledge of police procedures, your ability to spot a plot hole in a nanosecond, and your blunt advice is a great gift.

  I’m grateful to the University of Southern California and US Air Force for the outstanding training I received as an aircraft accident investigator. Every aircraft accident referenced in this book was a real crash, with real fatalities, and with real lessons learned. The job of figuring out the reason a tragic accident happens, so you can prevent it from happening again, is a noble cause.

  To my readers, I so appreciate your continued support and encouragement. Once again, I’m asking you to climb aboard with me and take off into another adventure. Strap in tight because it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

  For Sue,

  Your creativity, your courage, and your love inspires me.

  You are my Happily Ever After.

  Chapter One

  Day 1

  “Get the hell out of my way. Come on, missy. Move over!”

  Portland Police Detective Dee Rawlings wove in and out of traffic like a demon was chasing her. Though Dee was normally calm in emergency situations, her hands were sweating and her heart pounded. She glanced at the dashboard clock.

  Crap. I’m not going to make it.

  Dee flipped the switch turning on her hidden red and blue flashing lights. The other drivers moved to the right.

  “That’s right, people. I’m coming through.”

  Dee stomped the pedal to the floor, her police Camaro easily accelerating to one hundred miles an hour. She grinned broadly flying down the freeway, until guilt pricked the back of her neck. It was against police policy to use her lights for personal business, so she turned them off and slowed to normal speed. Her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. I can’t believe I’m actually going to see her.

  It was a beautiful summer evening in Portland, Oregon, with soft breezes and the scent of pine sap in the air. The sun was setting, casting golden light on the tall evergreens and making the puffy clouds look pink and orange. It would be a gorgeous, balmy night, and Dee couldn’t wait to show it to her.

  She tried hard to remember every detail of her face: the flaming-red hair, the dusting of freckles across her nose, the killer dimples when she smiled. Will she look different? Will she recognize me? Will she be glad to see me? Dee cast her doubt aside, like she did with any other troubling thought. Of course she’ll be happy to see me. Otherwise she wouldn’t have bought a plane ticket to fly here.

  Dee glanced at her watch. “Crap. She’s supposed to land in twenty minutes.”

  Fortunately, the other cars thinned out, and she flew past them. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw the giant yellow IKEA sign by the freeway exit to the airport. She was now only ten minutes away. Her heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry. What would they talk about? It had been so long since they’d seen each other. Dee didn’t care if they didn’t say a word. She just wanted to wrap her arms around her and hold her forever.

  “No time to park. I’ll have to pull up to the curb,” Dee said to herself.

  Stopping next to the main terminal building, she shut the engine off and jumped out of her police car. A parking-enforcement officer immediately strode over to the car.

  “You can’t park here. Drop-off and pickup only,” the parking officer yelled in a very stern voice.

  She stopped, reached into her back pocket, and showed the parking cop her police credentials. As soon as she recognized the badge, the officer let her go. “Sorry, officer.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Dee replied.

  She ran into the huge terminal building and looked around for a sign showing the arrival gates. She’d checked the gate number previously, and it was E5. She didn’t want to waste time reading the giant status board, so she ran to the security checkpoint and went to the far-left side to the exit lane, since she was carrying her weapon. The TSA agent standing behind a podium was about to stop her when Dee produced her police creds. The TSA agent picked up his hand radio and called for a LEO, a law enforcement officer. An airport cop came to the exit checkpoint, examined her police credentials, had her sign the LEO log, then let her pass into the secure passenger area.

  Dee looked at her watch again. It was nine p.m., five minutes to landing. She turned to the right and ran down the concourse to gate E5. As she passed a news shop, she saw a glass case filled with flower arrangements. She stopped, grabbed a bouquet of yellow roses, threw down a fifty-dollar bill, and said, “Thanks. Keep the change.”

  As she approached the gate area, people were sitting and reading. She could see through the big glass walls that the Jetway was not hooked up to a plane yet. She plopped down into a seat near the edge of the passenger seating area and let out a big sigh. She’d just made it before the plane landed, and now she could sit and wait for the door to the Jetway to open. She tried to contain her excitement, but it was almost impossible. The Jetway door would open, and then her new life would begin, a life she had

only dreamed of. She could hardly believe it was almost here.

  Dee took a moment to enjoy the view of her adopted state. She could see a runway with planes taking off and landing, and the wide Columbia River just beyond it. Deep-green forests grew on the far side of the river, with the remains of Mount St. Helens visible. The sky was filled with soft, muted colors in the last light of day. Dee walked over to the windows and looked to the east. She took out her phone and selected the camera app, wanting to video the moment the plane touched down. Looking toward the east end of the runway, she could see the magnificent Mount Hood, its snow-capped peak reflecting the deep-pink color of the setting sun. A wave of happiness slowly washed over her. She’d waited so long for this moment, and now it was almost here.

  Dee glanced at her watch again—9:05 p.m. The plane should be landing any second. She walked over to the podium to make sure she was at the right gate. The wall screen behind the counter showed she was at the correct place, but, under the arrival time, the display read, “See Agent.”

  Dee approached an older woman standing behind the podium. “Excuse me, but what does ‘see agent’ mean? I’m here to meet someone on flight 402 from Chicago.”

  The gate agent took a long look at her. “Please come with me.”

  She led Dee down to the end of the corridor, to a door with a cipher lock. She punched in a code and opened the door to a large conference room filled with people.

  “Please go on in. They will help you with any questions.” The gate agent retreated quickly.

  A man in a business suit stood at the front of the crowded room. “Could I have your attention, please?”

  The room grew quiet, and everyone turned to listen to him. “I’m Bob Harris, the station manager for Relax Air here in Portland. I have some important information for you all.”

  The hair on the back of Dee’s neck stood up.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, while we only have limited information so far, I need to tell you that we have lost contact with flight 402.”

  A gasp rose from the crowd.

  “I can assure you we are doing everything possible to reestablish communication with our aircraft, and I am asking all of you to remain here in the conference room until we can provide you with more details. As a result of losing contact with flight 402, we are required to report to the FAA that our airplane is missing.”

  Dee fell to her knees.

  Chapter Two

  Day 2

  A jarring telephone ring woke her from a deep sleep.

  “Hello. This is Dr. River Dawson speaking.” Her voice was gravelly.

  “Hi, River. It’s Maggie. Sorry to call you so early, but I have a case for you.”

  River rubbed her eyes, sat up, turned on the light, reached for her pen and pad, then said, “Ready to copy.”

  “A plane is missing. It’s Relax Air flight 402, Chicago to Portland, scheduled to land last night at 9:05 p.m. Last communication to Air Traffic Control was at 8:20 p.m., when Salt Lake Center handed them off to Seattle Center. That’s all we have so far. I made a reservation for you on the 6:00 a.m. flight to Portland. Oh, and, River, it’s a DC-10.”

  A shiver ran down her spine. “Thank you, Maggie. I got it. Talk to you soon.”

  River made herself a strong cup of coffee, took a quick shower, then gathered her things. Her aircraft accident investigator’s go bag was always fully stocked and loaded in the back of her SUV. River did her house close-up checklist since she’d be gone for up to a month. She’d never forgotten the one time she failed to throw out some leftover shrimp in the fridge. When she came home two weeks later, the house reeked of dead bodies.

  River took a moment to look out her big front window. A blue line emerged from the end of a dark night on the eastern horizon, beckoning the start of a new day. It would be beautiful in Denver today. This view of the sky was her favorite—the early dawn. The air was soft, it was quiet outside, and peacefulness flowed over her. She inhaled deeply and steeled herself for the coming task, her mission. She never knew what to expect, but whatever it was would be difficult.

  With her backpack, coffee, and strawberry Pop-Tarts in hand, River loaded the SUV and drove to the Denver International Airport. She didn’t mind the extra twenty minutes it took to get to the new airport instead of the old Denver Stapleton. Every flight in and out of Denver was always bumpy, but Stapleton had a reputation as the windshear capital of the world, and River was glad it was closed.

  She usually enjoyed her drive to the airport, but this morning her thoughts kept returning to the last words of her secretary, Maggie: “It’s a DC-10.”

  River’s shoulders and neck were tight. She rolled her head around to loosen them. She had to keep her emotions in check and not let anything distract her from the job, especially these first few days. Old thoughts about that airplane could not influence her. River would not allow it. She shoved any preconceived ideas to the back of her mind and locked it shut.

  As the sun began to rise, the sight of golden sunbeams reaching from the earth into the sky calmed her. The main terminal of the airport, DIA, was a beautiful giant white tent designed to resemble the Rocky Mountains. The early light made the peaks of the terminal look pink and welcoming. She would be okay. She had done this before and knew she could get through it. Her training and experience gave her the confidence to deal with any situation.

  After parking and clearing security, River boarded the underground train to the B concourse. She made sure she was in the front of the train so she could see out the big windows when the train moved. Two little kids stood next to her to also look out the train window. All the other passengers behind them appeared bored or annoyed. She loved seeing the public art in the dark tunnel as she rode the train through it. Colored light bars changed shape, and sculpture rows of small pickaxes appeared to pound the rock walls. A five-year-old next to her pointed to the axes. River bent down and said to him, “The tiny little miners who made this tunnel used those.” The boy smiled at her as his mother pulled him closer.

  River got off the train and ran to her gate.

  “Good morning, Dr. Dawson. Here’s your boarding pass. Is seat 2A all right?”

  “Morning, Carlos. Yes. That seat’s great. Thank you.” The gate agent held the Jetway door open for her.

  “Have a good trip,” Carlos said.

  River opened the overhead bin above her first-class seat.

  “Can I help you with your bag, Dr. Dawson?”

  River turned to see a young woman with a warm smile speaking to her. “That’s very kind of you, but it’s really heavy. I’ve got it. Thanks.” She was clearly a junior flight attendant having to work an oh-dark-thirty departure, but she was sweet to offer.

  River settled into her seat, put on her headphones, and closed her eyes for a few precious hours of sleep before she walked into a buzz saw in Portland.

  * * *

  Dee felt the walls closing in on her. She’d been waiting all night in the conference room with the other family members. They were all desperate for any information, but so far, they’d heard nothing. Her sense of dread grew over the long night, and now, ten hours later, she was like a caged tiger.

  She walked over to the conference-room door and spoke to the security officer guarding it. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Sorry, but you can’t leave this room,” he answered.

  Dee lowered her voice. “Are you telling me we’re prisoners here?” Her level of annoyance was rising.

  “Well, not exactly, but you’re supposed to stay in this room.” He sounded apologetic.

  Dee flashed him her badge. “Look. I’m going to find a restroom, and I’ll be right back.”

  He stepped aside and let her pass.

  It was seven a.m., and her empty stomach growled. Looking for a place to eat, she noticed that all the screens in the airport were tuned to news about the missing plane. A mass of journalists with cameras crowded outside of security waiting to pounce on anyone for an interview. Dee changed direction to avoid them, then located a coffee place. After she grabbed a breakfast sandwich, she found a relatively quiet place in the airport to sit down with a view of the river, but hardly tasted her food as she ate and watched planes take off into the morning sky. Passengers were hurrying to catch their flights, as the airport, and the rest of the world, woke up to a bright, sunny day. But it wasn’t a bright, sunny day for her.

 

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