Storm the Author's Cut Read Online Free Page A

shoulder. "You mustn't torture yourself with every plane that goes down. If you could help, of course you would. But there's nothing we can do.
    Laurie squeezed her eyes closed hard until her field of vision turned red. "What time is it?"
    "Two-thirty."
    "Did I wake you?"
    "I wasn't sleeping. Night shift turns me around—I woke up a while ago."
    "It'll be a while before I sleep again after that dream!" She hugged herself and heard the silence of the house. "The party's over."
    "Hmm. I went down for a drink of water an hour ago. Except for you and me, the house is asleep."
    But summer nights were short in the north and in about an hour the sky would begin to lighten.
    "Luke Lucas is going out searching at daybreak. The rest of his planes are already down on Moresby Island."
    "Lucas? Do I know him?"
    "He turned up about two years ago—bought QC Air from Brady."
    "I wonder if he's related to Doug Lucas? He wouldn't be from Vancouver, would he?"
    "Who's Doug Lucas?"
    "A Vancouver billionaire—mansion on south-west Marine Drive. He's in hotels—like your dad."
    "My father's hotel is never going to make a million, much less billions, and if Lucas were related, that's the sort of thing that would be sure to get around. I heard he worked as a bush pilot in the Yukon before he came here. But you know local gossip. If he doesn't talk about himself, someone makes up a story for him. "
    "Did he give you a good interview?"
    "He didn't want to talk. I interviewed Chief Hall. He was a passenger on Lucas's plane. He volunteered to stay up in the air, to help spot."
    Bev yawned.
    "I've got the interview on my recorder," said Laurie. "I need to take it to the station for the morning news."
    "In the middle of the night?"
    "I may as well. I'm not tired. I'll edit the interview, then go down to the seaplane docks. Nat wanted an interview."
    "The man won't talk. How can you get an interview?"
    She shivered at the memory of his eyes, but pushed the blankets aside. "I need to go."
    "Laurie, it's three in the morning! Mom would have a fit if she knew you were going out prowling the docks at this hour! And Ken..."
    "Don't wake them up." She pulled open a drawer and removed a pair of jeans and a thick sweater.
    All night the memories had been working on her. If there was anything she could do about that missing plane, she had to do it. She snapped the denim jacket closed and pulled her keys from her purse. She wouldn't need the purse, but maybe the wallet?
    No, too bulky.
    "Laurie? What are you up to?"
    "I'm going up in that search plane."
    She pulled a couple of twenties out of her purse and slipped them in her hip pocket, prepared for some nebulous, unforeseen financial need.
    "What makes you think he'll let you on the plane? He wouldn't even give you an interview."
    "I've got to try." She pulled on a pair of walking shoes.
    "Laurie, you're not trying to rescue those men, you're trying to make up for Shane's death."

 
     
     
    Chapter 3

     
    Laurie's car wheels crunched on the gravel of the parking lot but the man working down on the wharf didn't look up. She closed her car door softly, in no hurry to attract his attention.
    She carried a small pack swinging from her hand as she walked down the ramp in her thick rubber-soled shoes. The islands in the harbor were outlined in silhouette against the grey eastern sky. Beyond the islands, the ocean swept away until it met the sky in a dimly seen horizon. The dull, moody water moved slowly in the harbor.
    The Beaver was almost loaded. Lucas lifted a pack, the last thing sitting on the float beside the plane, and swung it easily into a back compartment with the casual motion of a strong man in good condition.
    It was unlikely that anyone had ever called him handsome. His face was too strong and rugged, and his eyes too piercingly analytical. The hard lines on his face made it hard to judge his age, but she guessed him at somewhere in his thirties. This morning he'd dressed in a thick wool jacket