Dusk

by Miller, Maureen A.

  Amanda dropped one of her hands, her other still immersed in her hair.

  “He seemed like a nice man,” she sighed. “He suffered at the hands of a rogue ex-military operation.”

  Catching her frown, Ray thought of the corporate moguls he had dealt with in the past. None had been concerned about individuals. All had been concerned about figures.

  To distract her he readied the laptop and asked, “Did you mention popcorn?”

  Torn, Amanda finally rose. That spark was back.

  “I did.” She smiled. “I’ll get that ready.”

  Yes, he had dealt with powerful executives and mulish directors. None had made microwave popcorn in a NY Yankees shirt and snug jeans in preparation to watch Freeze on a laptop. This was the closest moment he had come to domestication…and he was looking forward to every minute of it.

  ***

  “I remind you of her?” Amanda asked, watching the animated blonde whirl her hands hypnotically while singing.

  “Well,” Ray cleared his throat, “she has your hair, your eyes, your commanding presence…” His voice drifted.

  She didn’t dare look at him. Only a popcorn bowl separated them on the love seat. There was no need to peek though. She was entirely aware of him. In her periphery she glimpsed the long thigh muscles pressed against his jeans. She felt the heat of his body as he stretched out to rest a suede boot on the coffee table. A rugged blend of soap and musk drifted across that short space to her.

  “Well−” she sat up and tucked a leg beneath her, “−I can’t sing.”

  A masculine chuckle filled the air. “You see? Therein the similarities end.”

  She smiled, marveling at the fact that she was enjoying a movie so much−an animated movie, nonetheless. The only time she ever considered watching a movie was if it was filmed on location in a portion of the world that she needed to research. The Kingdom of Arendelle was fictitious, but she knew there was a town called Arundel in Norway. She had just visited the country, and it was as beautiful as this movie depicted.

  As the animated Elena threw her arms around her sister and the ice began to melt Amanda felt an odd stirring of tears behind her eyes. She tipped her head so that her hair would conceal them. When the movie ended she leaned forward, elbows on knees, studying all the credits.

  “Only you would be more engrossed in the credits than the movie,” Ray chided.

  She sat back quickly. “I just wanted to see the composers. What a wonderful score−”

  “Maybe I’ll get you the CD.”

  Their eyes connected and Amanda held her breath. Ray was far more handsome than any animated prince. A muscle in her cheek twitched. What a ludicrous thought. Ray was just here doing his job.

  Launching to her feet, she reached for the popcorn bowl and accidentally tipped it, spilling the remaining kernels across his lap.

  “Oh!”

  “Easy, Elena,” he teased, grinning up at her. “I’ll get it.”

  His voice was a stimulant. Deep. Husky. Warm. Arousing. She watched large hands sweep across his thighs and felt her throat grow dry. Tempted to assist with the clean-up process, she cowered instead, and offered, “Let me go get some paper towels.”

  The chuckle that followed her had her blushing to her toes.

  Humming the theme song from the movie, she yanked a handful of paper towels from the kitchenette. Ray had already risen and she nearly collided with him as she spun around. Strong hands gripped her arms to steady her.

  “It’s only popcorn, Amanda.”

  People didn’t touch her. His hands blatantly challenged that rule. They lingered even when she clearly had regained her balance.

  She stiffened under his touch, wanting to flee the burnishing gaze. There was such intensity there, the likes of which she had never encountered. What had this man seen in his lifetime? The reality that he had witnessed firsthand many more atrocities than her brush with the dark side of life grounded her.

  Her cell phone began to vibrate across the coffee table accompanied by God Save The Queen, the British National Anthem. The ringtone identified the caller as either her aunt or uncle. She glimpsed the digital clock on the desk. 10:08pm. That meant that it was after three in the morning back home.

  Alarmed, she wormed away from Ray’s touch and snatched the phone.

  “Aunt Joyce?”

  “Mandy, I’m sorry to bother you at this hour−” A tight female voice apologized.

  “It’s ten o’clock here. I’m more concerned why you’re calling at 3am. What’s wrong?”

  “Well, your uncle said it was nothing to be concerned with. That things like this often happen with family of famous people−”

  Famous people?

  “Earlier this evening we came home to find a note inside our door.”

  Ice filled Amanda’s veins, but there was no movie magic to it. She just felt cold to the core. There was a touch on her shoulder, but its heat could not break through the freeze that possessed her body.

  “Wh-what did the note say?” she asked, swinging an anxious glance towards Ray.

  “Well, it said−it said−” Joyce cleared her throat and began to read verbatim.

  “Your niece needs to return what belongs to me. If she has sold them, she needs to supply me with the monetary equivalent. If these demands are not met, her family will be in jeopardy.”

  Amanda sagged and Ray’s hands were there immediately to support her. She was too traumatized to notice that she was cradled against his chest. Her whole focus was on the small cell phone clutched desperately to her ear.

  “You’ve called the police, right?” she asked in a tight voice.

  “We did, but−”

  “But−”

  “Your uncle talked to them and after they left he had it in his mind that he needed to get to your apartment, and then BLUE-LINK to make sure both were safe.”

  “That’s what the police are for,” she cried out.

  “He said they were meeting him. That he was going to let them in,” the woman’s voice faded.

  “What happened?” Amanda burrowed into the warmth, not even sure where it was coming from.

  “The police stated that when they got to your apartment he was nowhere to be found. They had me call him, but he didn’t answer his cell. He was not at BLUE-LINK either. Your cousin is out looking for him now. He has been missing for almost seven hours.” Worry swallowed her last statement.

  “I’m going to the airport right now!” Amanda vowed.

  Ray released her to reach for his laptop, drawing up flight itineraries.

  “How does he know?” Amanda’s aunt pleaded quietly. “How could this man possibly know about them?”

  Amanda rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think he’s just hedging. Stay strong, Aunt Joyce. We’ll find Uncle George.”

  The conviction sounded hollow. After hanging up the phone, she crossed her arms, hugging them tight. Ray rose from the couch to face her.

  “Tell me,” he commanded gently.

  Breathe.

  “Another note was left. This time on the front door of my aunt and uncle’s house.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Just another threat−” she waved her hand helplessly. “But my uncle was to meet with the police at my apartment to let them in so they could check on everything−” She struggled to speak, her throat was so tight. “He never showed up there. He has been missing for seven hours.”

  Lost in her torment it finally registered that Ray was unresponsive. She glanced up to catch a flash of the feral creature that lurked inside him. Whatever she had said had tapped into the dark side of Ray Gordon. The coldness scared her, but in some ways she was drawn towards it. This man had no fears−a freedom that she craved.

  “The next flight isn’t until 8:00am,” he uttered thickly. “I’ve already confirmed us on it.”

  That wouldn’t get them into London until nearly tomorrow evening. Talons of frustration clawed
inside her chest.

  “Hey−”

  She felt his hands cup her shoulders. “We’ll get there as fast as we can. In the mean time I will call the London police to see if they have any leads.” He looked at his watch. “I also might−”

  “You also might what?”

  “I like to do things in person. People tend to be more responsive−more vocal with a live audience, but if we’re not going to be able to head upstate, and we can’t go to the airport yet, I will call these contacts instead.”

  Amanda looked at his watch. “At this hour?”

  Ray’s eyebrow inched up. “They should be home at least. Maybe not too receptive to taking a stranger’s call about an incident that happened over twenty years ago−” this time there was a hint of a grin on his lips, “but I can be charming when need be.”

  “Persuasive, you mean?”

  “We need more information on why your parents were in South Africa. We need to piece together who this man is.” Ray squeezed her shoulders. “Interesting that he has yet asked for a place to meet. A place to receive what he is apparently demanding from you−and what you apparently don’t want to share with me. Tell me this much at least, Amanda. Tell me if you believe this man is credible. That what he’s asking for is tangible.”

  Lying to this man was not simple. Hypnotic eyes bore into hers tempting her to spill her inner secrets into a puddle at their joined toes. Yeah, persuasive.

  “He wants money,” she replied flatly. “There’s no need to ask about meeting. If he takes one of my family then he knows I’m coming for him. He knows we will meet.”

  For immeasurable seconds Ray just stared at her. She raised her chin and glared back. Finally, he nodded.

  “Alright. I’ll accept that for now,” he said. “Let me start making some phone calls. We’ll leave here around five. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

  She crossed her arms.

  “You can’t do anything right now, Elena. You have to sleep. One little nap and you could wake up to find your uncle is home and getting a tongue-lashing from your aunt because he fell asleep in his office.”

  Oh, if only that could be. If only her uncle was napping somewhere.

  “You could hand me a couple of contacts from that list you have and I could make calls as well,” she suggested. “I’m sure people will be much more receptive to a plaintive daughter than a strange investigator.”

  “Then why did you hire me if you can do it all by yourself?”

  Because this situation is turning dark.

  It’s moving towards a world only someone like you can navigate.

  “I know my limitations, Ray,” she whispered, dejected. “I can’t do it all.”

  Some of the tension eased around his eyes. “Honestly, I believe you can. But a little help won’t hurt.”

  A little help. It sounded so trivial. So innocent.

  “Alright, here is my list.” He dragged his finger across the surface of his phone. “Do you recognize anyone?”

  Names. Johnson. Giordano. Newsome. Wong… Nothing struck her as familiar. But they all had phone numbers. That’s all that mattered.

  “Okay, I’ll take Newsome and Wong,” she said, while reaching for her phone. “You’re calling the police first, right?”

  The sensitivity in his gaze belied the hard set of his shoulders.

  “Yes.”

  He reached out and touched her face. A gentle stroke of a calloused fingertip from her cheek down to her jaw.

  She should have bristled. She should have recoiled. She should have admonished him. Instead, she closed her eyes and dreaded the moment that heat would disappear.

  ***

  An answering machine kicked in at the Johnson household. Ray lowered the phone from his ear and studied Amanda. She was on the couch, engaged in an animated conversation with the Wong household. He glanced at his watch. 12:30am. How had she managed to get them to communicate so readily at this hour?

  It was evident by the questions she was rattling off that she was making some headway. Occasionally a phantom smile would attack her lips. Probably a reference to something pleasant from her past. She needed that. Pleasant memories−not the horrid recollection that consumed her.

  Every time he watched this woman a muscle wrenched in his chest. From a distance−on paper−behind a desk…she was not the person he studied right now. Amanda Newton was an enigma. A tormented enigma with a zeal for control. That control was spiraling on her now. She tried hard to keep herself together. Shadows beneath her vibrant blue eyes and tension in her jaw muscle revealed the toll that battle was taking. Pale fingers clutched the cell phone fiercely enough to snap it in half.

  “Thank you!” she exclaimed. “Again, my sincere apologies for bothering you at this hour, but I truly appreciate your help.”

  Amanda sank back against the couch and closed her eyes. When they opened they sliced towards him.

  “That was Jim Wong. He was apparently our neighbor growing up. He said that I used to play with their daughter, Amy.” A faint smile dusted across her lips. “I remember Amy.” Her head twitched. “Anyway, he recalled our departure. He said my parents had booked a diamond-buying junket to South Africa to obtain some unique inventory and to drum up some excitement for the business. They promoted their trip, hoping to build new clientele upon their return. Because they wouldn’t go without me, Mr. Wong said my parents told him they had booked a camping excursion for a few days to make it a family holiday. They were going to pitch tents along some river…” her voice faded.

  Ray crossed to the couch and sat beside her.

  “It’s hard to remember any of that, Ray,” she pleaded. “I remember camping, but I couldn’t tell you that it was in South Africa. I just remember camping. I do remember a long plane flight. But I don’t know if it was with them, or the trip to London with my aunt and uncle.”

  At the mention of her uncle, Amanda’s eyes dropped closed again.

  “So what does this newfound knowledge get us?” she challenged. The fight in her had waned, though as she fell into an introspective silence.

  “It gets us a lot,” he responded quietly. “I reached the Upington station again. Now that I’ve established a communication with the Station Commander, I can share this information and see what he comes up with. Diamond theft is a major problem in South Africa. When I was in Iran I met a soldier from Johannesburg. He told me of how inventive the diamond thieves are. They used to get jobs working for the big mining companies, and when they would find rough stones they would try to hide them under their fingernails. Some even tried to use Carrier pigeons to fly the stones out−”

  “My parents are not diamond thieves!” she cried out as she sprang from the couch and stormed into her bedroom where she emerged two seconds later with her suitcase in hand. “Isn’t it time we head to the airport?”

  Whoa.

  There was no point in mentioning that he didn’t imply they were.

  “Yes, it’s time,” he declared quietly.

  The ride to the airport was a silent one. Amanda’s head was turned towards the passenger window. As Ray reached to adjust the heat he didn’t think it would help with the temperature in the car.

  Pressing redial on his cell phone connected him with Chief Inspector Miles in London. There were no new leads during the night, and all inquiries at local hospitals and morgues had been exhausted.

  “Alright. We’re be boarding around 7:30am Eastern Time and will arrive in London later this evening. I’ll be in touch across the Atlantic and I would appreciate you having someone there to meet us at Heathrow.”

  Amanda’s attention was on him as he set the phone down on the console between them. He had to look away to negotiate the maze at JFK airport. Following the signs for Rental Car Return, he heard her take a deep breath.

  “Anything?”

  One word. One question, and it was tangled in angst.

  “No. No word yet, but they’ve been at it all night. They haven’t
given up.”

  Amanda gave no response.

  “Look,” he started carefully. “About earlier. I didn’t mean anything−”

  Her hand rose, arresting him.

  “I’m tired and emotional,” she explained.

  Admitting that must have cost her. He felt that he had gained a modicum of her trust because he doubted she would ever make such a confession to the public.

  Prior to the events of yesterday, Ray had been preparing to schedule a trip to Upington to follow-up in person. Amanda’s parents were supposedly traveling on a diamond-buying junket. If they did indeed stop in a remote camping area, that could spell a recipe for disaster. Someone could have followed them from one of the diamond museums or jewelry stores, or even one of the mines. It made his blood curl to see innocent people hurt. That anger spurred him to try and right the world. To try and protect the innocents of the world.

  Was it possible for the Newton’s assailant to still harbor a grudge twenty years later? How old was he now? If not for the disappearance of her uncle, Ray would have suspected this guy was simply going to harass Amanda digitally. Had he actually traveled to London?

  Ray gripped the steering wheel with enough force to tear it from its moorings.

  “Are you alright?” A soft voice inquired from his side.

  Amanda was silhouetted in the passenger window by the dusty rose of sunrise—a sunrise speckled with the flashing lights of taxiing planes and dodging utility trucks.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “But I do,” she said. “I need you. I am failing, and I have to have faith that you will pick up where I falter.”

  His ferocious grip on the wheel slackened as his hand slipped down, blindly crossing the gap between them. It slipped atop hers and squeezed with much more gentility than seconds before.