by Joyce
Steve poured her some juice in a thin, crystal flute. He brought it to her without another word. Rae had the feeling that he was watching her. Sizing her up. He wasn't sure if he made the right choice but it was the only choice left to him. He didn't understand her and that bothered him more than anything.
She took a deep breath and accepted the glass of orange juice from him with a shaky hand. “You do this all the time, I suppose?"
"All the time. Sometimes two and three times a day."
She sipped her juice as she listened to the sound of the engine starting up around her. The plane vibrated with it. She took a seat and turned her back to the window. Maybe later she'd like to look out. But not yet.
"You must've flown a lot in the FBI. I'm surprised it still makes you uncomfortable."
"I flew too much.” She took another sip of juice like it might be her last. “I never got used to it."
"I have some friends who won't fly unless they're stone drunk.” He took the seat opposite her.
Rae was amazed. She barely knew him. How could he manage to hit every chord that bothered her? Could he know more than he was giving away? He zeroed in on her fears. First Denise Little, then her partnership with John and now her drinking. Just how much information could he have gathered about her?
If anyone else besides her family and Jean knew about her being an alcoholic, she would think he was baiting her. But they didn't. It wasn't mentioned on her service record. She'd been adept at hiding it. Her fight was a personal one. Her support group was her grandmother locking her in the drying shed.
She was being paranoid. He was just making conversation. She could do that, too. “It's probably not easy being the head of a major corporation."
"It beats flipping burgers."
"I can see the perks are better than a free order of fries.” The plane was making a whining sound that was a little hard on her ears.
"That's the engine.” He picked up his drink. “We're getting ready to take off."
She could smell the whiskey but she drank her juice with a steady hand. “Wonderful."
"It'll be over before you know it."
"Great. How fast is that?"
"We have a cruising speed of about five hundred miles an hour."
"Five hundred? I didn't need to know that.” The jet lurched forward. Rae grabbed the arm of her chair.
"It'll probably be a while before we're cleared for take off. We're not going five hundred miles an hour yet."
She smiled and nodded, hoping that she wasn't going to throw up.
Steve sat back in his chair. “So, what's it like running your shop?"
"It's good.” Everything seemed to be glued down. Nothing was moving. “It's something I'm proud of."
"It looks like you."
She was surprised. “How so?"
"It's a little old fashioned. A little out of time."
"Is that how I seem?” That was the way she'd always seen her mother and grandmother. It grated that he found her that way.
"A little."
She was about to defend herself against the charge of being out of time. The plane started forward again, definitely picking up speed.
"I guess we got the go ahead to take off. Sometimes it comes faster than others."
As the plane traveled faster, Rae gripped her chair harder.
Steve frowned. “Fasten your seatbelt."
Rae fastened the belt that was lying loosely at her sides. She put the juice glass down on the table and held on to the chair with both hands. They were going very fast. She could feel the pressure against her. “I'm not out of time or old fashioned. It's called New Age now."
"You don't own a car. Your shop looks like something from a hundred years ago, even if it is New Age. You still vote in every election."
"That makes me out of time and old fashioned?"
"I'm afraid so. Are you all right?” The nose of the plane lifted off the ground. He put his hand on the arm of her chair.
"I think we're going up.” She closed her eyes.
Steve grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “It'll be over with soon."
Heart pounding. Breath coming faster. Shower of colors. Taste of Jack Daniels on her tongue, his tongue. Pleasure spiraling, rushing through her. Hot blackness pulling her down.
Rae bit her lip until she tasted blood to stop the vision. Why was he affecting her this way? She couldn't see the future. It couldn't really be the two of them together. I have to avoid touching him. The plane had leveled off. The pressure that pushed at her was gone. She dared to glance out the window. All she could see was the bright blue sky. “Are we up?"
"For a while."
She looked down. She was clutching his hand. She released it abruptly and put both hands in her pockets. “Sorry."
"That's okay.” He looked at the indentations in his hand where her fingers dug into his skin.
She looked at them, too. “That wasn't so bad. I thought it would be much worse."
Steve winced. “More juice?"
"No, thanks."
"Lots of people hate the take off more than the landing."
"So it doesn't have anything to do with being out of time and old fashioned?” Rae moved experimentally in her seat.
"That was a compliment. I don't think there's anything wrong with not being an immediate part of modern society."
"That seems strange considering that you're shaping a lot of modern society. You can't get more modern than computer software."
"That's true. And maybe that's why I don't feel that being away from it is a bad thing."
"I read that you started your company in somebody's basement.” She wanted him to know that she wasn't that old fashioned and out of time.
"My mom's basement. My brother and I put it together. He was my partner until last year."
"What happened?"
"He died in a car accident. Bryce is his daughter."
Rae felt a small tingle of awareness that alerted her senses. There was something there about his brother's death. Something he didn't want to tell her. “I'm sorry. That must make this even harder."
Steve sat back in his chair. “It does. Bryce reminds me a lot of her father. When David died, she and her mother came to live with me. It's been hard running the business without him."
"Is that why you're not diversifying?"
"You're not as out of time as you appear, are you?"
He didn't like having the tables turned on him. She could see it in his eyes. It was one thing for him to research her but another to discuss his business with her. “I like some old-fashioned things. But I keep up with the world. I read the paper."
"If Solutions had diversified,” he explained. “I'd only be head of the software division, which is where I want to be."
"What happened? If it's what you want, why not diversify?"
"I will as soon as I can.” He took a long swallow of the whiskey in his glass.
There it was again. Secrets. “It involves Bryce, doesn't it? You've had demands from the kidnappers that involve Solutions."
"I have.” He looked surprised. “Is that psychic or something that's happened on a case before?"
"It's not unheard of for corporations to coerce other corporations into doing what they want with personal leverage."
"Personal leverage?” Angry chords played through his voice. “In other words, kidnap Bryce to have me ruin Solutions to get her back?"
It sounded so simple and so cold. “Yes."
"Do you think that's what happened?"
Rae could feel a faint pull at her psyche. She picked up her forgotten juice glass to use as an excuse to hide from him. His psi wasn't developed. But she could feel a tiny sliver of psychic awareness about him. He used it when he directed questions. No wonder he guessed so close to the truth about her. It wasn't surprising that he was so good at business. “I don't know."
Steve's gaze captured and held hers. “But you have a feeling, don't you?"
"Yes.” She shivered
under that intense blue demand that held small undertones of power.
"Tell me."
"I-I feel it's personal. I can't explain it yet. And it may not be true."
Steve got out of his seat and walked to the bar to pour himself another drink. “It makes more sense the other way."
"That might be,” Rae acknowledged. “This is only a feeling with very limited fact to back it up."
"I know. I haven't filled you in for a reason. I was hoping not to taint the case for you. I want a fresh perspective. I already have a hundred security people who tell me the same thing. They can't find Bryce."
"I understand. But I need the facts, too. This brings us to another consideration that I need from you before I help you look for Bryce."
"Which is?"
"I need it from you, in writing, that I won't be connected in any way with what happens. No media. No names. No stories afterward. Whatever happens, I'm not there. You don't know who I am."
He didn't look surprised. “I can do that. The rest of the reward is yours, as well, when we find her."
"Done."
"Is that it?"
"That's it.” Rae was satisfied.
"I know that other people contacted you about looking for missing children when you quit the FBI."
"Then you must know I haven't done that since I got back to the island.” She faced him honestly. “And I wouldn't be sitting here with you now, except that I need the money for my grandmother."
"How can you say no if you can help find someone's child?” Steve looked at her like refusing to help made her guilty of some crime.
"How would you like to go through this agony every day for a living?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think about it that way. I won't tell anyone. You have my word on it, Rae. We'll think of some plausible reason for you to be at my home. I'll have my lawyers draw up papers. I don't want to ruin your life. I just want to find Bryce."
She nodded, convinced by the sincerity of his tone, the stony truth in his eyes. And something extra that bound them together in a different way. “Tell me what happened."
He took a deep breath. “Where do I start?"
Chapter Four
"At the beginning."
"I take Bryce to work with me as much as I can when I'm home. She's good. She's never in the way. I like having her there with me."
She nodded but didn't speak, concentrating on the nuances in his words.
He continued, “I took her to work with me that morning. She went out to get a new pencil from Sandy, my assistant. She was in the outer office."
He stood up and began pacing. His face became dark with rage. “She was only gone a few minutes. My P.A. went out to find her so we could go to lunch. Instead, she found Sandy, bound and gagged in the closet."
"So Sandy was the only one the kidnappers came in contact with?"
"Yes. She said two people came off of the elevator. They tied her up and pushed her into the closet. Bryce was gone before I knew what happened."
"Was Sandy able to describe them?"
"Not really. She said they wore masks that covered their faces."
Rae tried to form a mental picture from what he was telling her. “Male? Female?"
"She said she thought they were both male. One was shorter than the other."
"What did the police say?"
"I didn't call the police,” Steve told her. “I have my own security people."
"Why not use the police and FBI?"
"The kidnappers said they'd kill Bryce if I called in either group. There was a ransom demand initially. The kidnapers wanted three hundred and fifty thousand dollars delivered to a street corner downtown. No police. No questions."
"What happened?"
"I left the money in a suitcase. I was supposed to circle the block. When I went back to pick Bryce up, the empty case was there. Bryce wasn't. The bastards took her somewhere else."
"So then you called the police?"
He finished his drink. “I haven't called the police at all. I've offered the reward privately. I thought it would flush them out. I don't want it to become a circus. I just want Bryce back."
She was astonished. “So you've tried to find her by yourself?"
"I've hired private detectives. I have a hundred security people working on finding her. They've brought back leads that go nowhere. They have no idea who's responsible. This is the third day and I don't feel like we've come close. That's why I came for you."
Rae could hear the impotence in his voice. For all of his money and connections, he couldn't protect Bryce. It was gnawing at him like a dog with a bone.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know yet.” She could feel his anger and fear like it was her own. Some of it was directed at her. “I only know one way to work. I have to visit the places. I have to see her things and get some feeling for her. I have to talk to the people who are around her every day. If there were any other way, I wouldn't be here."
"It's been so long already. When I think that she might be dead—"
She refused to talk about that concept yet. “If they gave you six days and a list of demands for those days, she's probably still alive."
Steve stared at her. “You mean until the last day and the last demand?"
"Yes. Have you spoken with Bryce? Could you tell if it was a recording or if it was really her?"
"It was her.” His voice was deep and dark. “How about you answering some of my questions now? What makes you feel like it's personal? Everyone else feels like it's corporate."
"I told you, I don't know yet."
"Or you don't want to tell me?"
"I don't know yet. Really. If I knew something else, I'd tell you."
"There isn't anyone who'd want to hurt Bryce."
"We both know this isn't about Bryce. It's about you."
He frowned and shook his head. “But if it wasn't professional kidnappers, it would have to be—"
"—someone close to you. A friend or relative. Someone who knows your routine. Someone who knows about you taking her to work with you. Someone who knew when to take her from the office."
"There's no one—"
"You're probably too close, too worried, to see anything that isn't right in front of your face. I don't know what's wrong with your detectives. Have they talked to your family and friends?"
Steve stood up again. “Yes. But they haven't found anything. I don't think the FBI or the local police could do any better. These people are tops in their field. And I'm not taking a chance with Bryce's life."
"You need to come up with a list of people who might be suspects."
"There isn't anyone close to me that could be a suspect,” he argued with her. “Otherwise they wouldn't be close to me. I trust the people around me."
She didn't flinch from his harsh words. “Think again."
"Everyone close enough to have that information are people I trust implicitly. I've known them for years. They're above reproach."
Rae impatiently pushed her hair back out of her face and traced circles on the tabletop with her finger. This was always the hard part. “Look. I can't help you if you won't admit that something is wrong. Everyone is taking their cues from you. You have money and power. They aren't going to push for answers unless you make them push in every direction. You can't be offended to have them question anyone around you."
He shuddered and held the glass in both of his hands. “What do you want?"
"A list."
"A list?"
"Of the people around you. Everyone who's close enough to know that information about you and Bryce. Starting with Bryce's mother."
"Sharin."
"Where is she?"
"She lives with me. I don't have to worry about them being out on their own that way. And if you could see what this has done to her, you wouldn't need to ask if she's involved."
"I wasn't accusing her. Just asking the question.” She pleated a piece of her shirt with her fingers. “
What about the present Mrs. Williams?"
"There isn't one. I don't have time for a committed relationship."
"So much for all the hopeful Mrs. Steve Williams wannabees out there."
"I don't think anyone is waiting in line for that position,” he told her bluntly. “I'm not an easy man to live with."
She studied his profile. He was a very attractive man with a healthy dose of money and sex appeal thrown into the mix. There were bound to be a woman in his life who entertained the idea of being his next wife. He was either lying to her or to himself. “What about your assistant, Sandy? She seems like she could be at the heart of it."
"Sandy? I've known her for ten years. She wouldn't be involved with anything like this."
Rae shook her head. The pencil she used to hold up the heavy mass of her hair dropped down, tumbling the whole thing to below her shoulders. “You'll have to stop making excuses for everyone. Anyone is a potential suspect until we know better."
Steve watched in fascination as she brought the riotous curls back into place and secured them to the back of her head with the pencil. “That's a major feat of engineering."
She finished self-consciously. “I started doing it in school because I couldn't keep it up with my clips. And this way, I always have a pencil. It's just a habit."
He focused on one single curl that hung close to her ear. Rae felt his gaze like he'd touched her. She tucked the curl back behind her ear.
Steve shook himself and moved away. “I'll make a list of everyone who has that knowledge. Without making excuses."
"As soon as we land, I need to go to the office where she was taken, then to the other sites. The longer we wait, the less chance we'll find her alive."
"You don't mince words, do you?"
"There's no point. We both know you came to me as a last resort."
The jet hit some turbulence. It momentarily shuddered around them as though they stood close together near the bar. Rae reached out for some support and found her hands on Steve's solid chest. His arm came around her shoulders.
"Just some turbulence,” the pilot announced. “We're getting ready to land anyway so you might want to belt up, Steve."
"Thanks, Jim."
"I really hate turbulence.” Rae could hear the tension in her voice and tried to relax.
