“Don’t look so horrified.” A rough edge tinged his voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Easy for him to say since he was on top and in control. “Like I trust you after that tackle and roll move.”
“You’re fine.”
The pounding in her head suggested otherwise. For the first time in weeks Cassie felt something other than frustration and sadness. But she wasn’t sure terror-filled minutes were any better than those that came before.
“Let me up,” she said in the strongest voice she could muster.
He loosened the grip on her wrists but kept her pinned. “Stop moving around and tell me who you are and how you know Dan.”
She glared but stayed quiet.
“Okay then. We’ll skip the introductions and get to the point. Where is Dan?”
The question showed this guy lived somewhere else. Either that or the story about being Dan’s friend was just that, a story. “I thought you and Dan were supposed to be so close.”
“What does that have to do with your name?”
“If you really were friends, you’d know.” And she would not have to say the words. She could keep the pain and hurt locked in the back of her mind as she searched for the truth.
“You’re talking in riddles.”
She searched the guy’s face one last time trying to figure out where she had seen him before. Something about his tone or affect…something kept her from pulling that trigger before and from kneeing him now.
“You gonna say anything anytime soon?” he asked.
The dizzying sense of loss, all that gnawing disbelief, exhausted her until she gave in and provided the answer he wanted.
“Dan’s dead.” Saying the horrible words sliced her to the bone.
Her attacker did not take them any better. He loosened his grip as his tan face blanched chalk white. She’d seen that horrified look before. Every single time she glanced in the mirror.
“That can’t be right.” Distress filled the man’s voice. His words came out choppy and low, almost like a growl.
She nodded, unable to say the truth about Dan a second time.
“Oh shit.” The stranger landed on his backside on the floor beside her with a thump.
Stunned surprise. The flash of pain behind his eyes. The tightening of his skin around his mouth. Cassie recognized the signs. The man was trying to hold back the emotions that had his hands flexing and his shoulders slumping in defeat.
“They tried to tell me at the hangar,” he said in a faraway voice. “But I…it didn’t make any sense.”
None of it made any sense to her, either. No matter how many times she tried to take apart the pieces and make the facts fit, the story fell apart. Most days, her fight for the truth about Dan was the only thing that got her out of bed.
“How?” The mysterious man sat back on his haunches, head hung low, body slack. “I mean, when?”
She knew what he was asking. She swallowed the mountain of tears clogging her throat. Telling the horrible news rubbed her raw. She expected it always would. “Helicopter crash. Close to four weeks ago. We had a private memorial service for him shortly after that.”
“But he contacted me—” A deep frown marred the attacker’s face. “Who the hell are you?”
“Cassie Montgomery.”
“Dan’s half sister?”
“I don’t make the half distinction.” And she hated when other people pointed it out. “But, yes.”
“Damn.”
She sat up straight as he jumped to his feet. “And now it’s your turn to fess up.”
From the small shake of his head to the sad echo in his voice, she knew the surprise news had the guy reeling. Shock, confusion, and anger all raced across his face.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He paced around at a near stumble. “No.”
“How about you tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”
“Caleb Wilson. People call me Cal.”
Even though he mumbled it, she heard him. The name triggered the flood of memories she had been searching her mind to find. She had seen a few of Dan’s group photos over the years. Cal always stood near Dan with a stupid grin on his face. That was years ago, in uniform. The cockiness and command still remained, but the clothes differed.
“You were in the Air Force with Dan. Worked together as pararescuemen, right?”
“PJs, yeah,” he said with a hint of pride.
She had heard the horror stories. Not from Dan, but on the news and in her various internet searches for information on her brother’s elusive career.
Search and rescue. Extractions out of hostile territory. Water rescues. She knew the danger Dan and Cal thrived on and what it did to them. Dan had retired but his adrenaline-seeking ways never abated.
Oh yeah. She knew all about one Caleb Wilson.
Dan shared the stories. Cal had years of survivalist training. Controlled his environment with deadly precision and left behind a string of heartbroken sweeties as he moved from one military town to the next across the country.
The guy’s reputation with the ladies bordered on infamous. Dan bragged about his carefree, no-ties, always-looking-for-a-bigger-thrill buddy all the time. Then one day, Dan stopped talking about Cal completely.
“Why are you really here?” she asked.
Cal’s legs carried him back and forth in front of the door. “Tell me about the crash.”
“Dan was on a routine run, scouting out potential places to take tourists for helicopter rides along Waimea Canyon. He crashed.”
Cal wore the same sort of skeptical grimace she imagined she possessed when she first got the news.
“Any reports of trouble with the engine, plane, instruments, or anything like that?” he asked.
“No.”
“Bad weather? Wind shear?”
“No.”
He studied her. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The part that filled her with a killing rage. “The police think Dan got sloppy, wasn’t paying attention. That’s the official line.”
“And you think there’s another line.”
She sat down on the seat Cal abandoned for his football-tackling imitation. “Foul play.”
Cal stared at her for a second before resuming his agitated pacing. He rubbed the stubble on his chin.
“Dan was the type to take care of his plane,” she said, repeating the argument she had used over and over with the crash site investigators.
“He liked to goof off. Made some mistakes in the past. Big ones.”
“Excuse me?”
“But not like this.”
Cal’s muttering set a red light flashing inside her brain. “What mistakes?”
He waved off the question. “Not important. Continue with your story.”
She decided to get it all out, analyze his reaction, then go from there. “Dan flew in and around Kauai ever since he left the service. This is his life. He knows the area. Knows the people. Depends on tourist traffic for his livelihood. He would not have done something stupid.”
Cal stopped shifting around. “You’re not buying the accident theory.”
“Absolutely not.”
The haze of sadness cleared from Cal’s deep, hazel eyes. “Got any proof or just going by blood ties?”
“I know Dan better than anyone.” That was far from true, but she wanted to believe it so she said it. “The police version is wrong. The deputy chief handled the case. A guy named Ted Greene. He concluded this was Dan’s fault and called in the National Transportation Safety Board investigators to make a final determination.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Their report could take years. In the meantime, Dan is seen as a screw-up and the people who killed him go free.” The sting of that reality refused to fade from her memory.
“And you’re conducting a private investigation.” Cal wiped a hand over his face.
“Dan did not cause the wreck.”<
br />
“Uh-huh.” If Cal was listening, he managed to do it while scanning the floor.
She hated when people ignored her. With everything she’d been through, she did not need another boneheaded male doubting her brother’s skills or dedication. Nothing made her change faster from feeling useless to feeling furious.
“I guess you agree with Greene.”
Cal’s head shot up. “What?”
“You better understand that I won’t tolerate one more person speaking ill of my brother.”
“I said ‘uh-huh.’” Cal stood in the middle of the floor with papers he picked up from the floor wadded in each fist.
“So?”
“That means I agree with you. There’s nothing negative about an ‘uh-huh’ response.”
“It sounded more like a grunt than an actual word.” The way he stared at her, as if she were insane, put her on the defensive. “Guess I need a male-to-English dictionary to follow along on your side of the conversation.”
“You’re a tough woman to please.”
“I am—”
“Then we agree.”
“I didn’t finish my sentence.”
“I mean that we both agree there is something in this story about Dan worth looking into.”
Committing to the idea that they held a united front on anything seemed premature since she still did not understand half of what the guy said. “Why are you here?”
“Dan wrote me.”
Her heart jumped at his straightforward answer. “When? About what?”
“About a month ago.”
“Why after all this time?”
“He said he has a problem with—”
“What kind?”
The corner of Cal’s mouth kicked up. “If you let me finish a sentence, this will go faster.”
Cassie doubted that. Nothing about Cal had been easy so far, including that skid across the floor. Her shoulder still thumped from the acrobatic move.
“Sorry to interrupt your long-winded version of the story, Your Royal Highness. But, as you might imagine, I’m interested in figuring out what happened to my brother as soon as possible.”
She could tell the news of Dan’s death had not been easy on Cal. His skin tone still looked more off white than fleshy. A tug of sympathy pulled in the area near her heart for him but she knew she could not afford to let her guard down.
She had been chased, shot at, and lost her brother under mysterious circumstances. Trust was not something she had in great supply.
Cal shrugged off her concerns. “Dan’s message didn’t make a whole lot of sense. He referenced a problem, an operation that smelled funny. He asked for my help. It took awhile for the message to get to me—”
“Why?”
Cal’s eyebrows lifted. “As soon as I got it, I came.”
“You expect me to believe that you just jumped on a plane and flew here.”
He smoothed crumpled pieces of paper and piled them in a stack. “It’s a hell of a long walk to Hawaii from Florida. Those last two thousand miles underwater would be a bitch.”
“My point is that it’s a long trip to make based on a few messages.” Dan’s SOS to this guy made no sense. The fact her brother called a virtual stranger rather than her hurt in ways she refused to think about. “Tell me what really happened between you and Dan a few years back.”
“It’s an old story.” Cal stopped picking up the paper around her feet and leaned in until only a few inches separated their faces. “And none of your business.”
“I got time.”
“And I have no intention of filling it. Believe it or not, Cassie, I didn’t come here to be cross-examined by you.”
“I asked a simple question.”
“And I gave a simple answer. No.”
Chapter Three
The man made Cassie want to strangle something. Mostly him. “So, I’m just supposed to trust you? You could be anyone, for all I know.”
Cal sighed, then reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. Flipping the worn leather open, he showed her his driver’s license. “Better?”
“Not really.”
“The bottom line is that Dan knew if he had trouble, I’d help.”
She had seen the haunted look in Dan’s eyes when he walked away from the service for good. He refused to talk about what had happened. Code of silence and all that. But that did not explain Cal’s cryptic remarks now.
“Is this rush-to-help thing some kind of military code?”
“That Others May Live. That’s the only code I’ve lived by for years.”
She recognized the PJs’ motto. “Seems to me whatever friendship you had with Dan was over.”
“So, do you live here?”
Interesting time for a topic change. “On a neighboring island. This one is Kauai. I live on Oahu.”
“I’m aware of Hawaii’s geography. I was stationed here at one point.”
He was? “When was—”
“Now that we know everyone’s address, what’s your story?” Cal asked as he continued to pay more attention to the room than to her.
She sensed the air of relaxation that stole over him was one he practiced and learned. Being in that many treacherous situations would make a man develop a façade. Still, she preferred asking the questions to answering them. From the way he kept circling her questions and asking his own, she guessed he felt the same way.
“I’m Dan’s sister. With our parents being gone and Dan being single, the job of cleaning out the house fell to me.”
“And your husband or boyfriend doesn’t mind you running over here?”
Sounded like fishing to her. She refused to take the bait. “Let’s stick to Dan.”
Cal stared at her for an extra beat before switching directions again. “Was the house in this condition when you got here?”
“Yeah.” She looked around the disheveled room. “This isn’t exactly my idea of decorating. Dan could be sloppy, but this is something else.”
“Why do I think you’re not telling me the whole story of how and why you’re here?”
Because she wasn’t. Not even half of it. “I don’t know what—”
A crack split through the quiet night and glass from the window shattered with a bang and showered the hardwood floor with small pellets.
“Get down!” Cal leaped across the room, dragging Cassie to the floor with him.
She landed on the wood with a thump and a hard slam. Her face hit the floor as his stomach covered her back. After a bounce, strong arms surrounded her, wedging her under his firm body. This time she didn’t struggle to get away from him. If one of them was going to get shot, she voted for him.
“What’s happening?” She started squirming to get a better view.
“Gunshot”
“Again?” she squeaked out.
“Again? You’re telling me this sort of thing happens often in your world?” Shock shook his deep voice.
“Just twice.” She bit her lip.
“Oh, that’s better.” He leaned up and whipped out a small gun from his waistband.
“Where did you get that?”
“My pants.”
She refused to think about what else he kept in his pants. “Since when did you—”
He motioned for her to stay quiet.
Which she ignored. “What are you planning to do with that thing?”
“I’m a second away from shooting you to keep you from talking.” He eased off of her and crouched down in a squat.
“Where are you going?”
“Do you not know what quiet means?” His whisper hit her with the force of a yell.
Cal balanced his athletic body on his elbows and muscled forearms. Gliding with the stealth of a predator, he traveled to the other side of the room, then sat up with his back to the wall, under the broken window. Seconds of silence ticked by, broken only by the sound of a slamming car door.
Cal jumped to his feet and peeked out into the dark nigh
t. “Damn.”
“What’s going on?”
“Other than you disobeying direct orders?”
She rolled her eyes even though she doubted he could see her. “I’m not in the military.”
“Which is a good thing.”
She sprinted across the floor, pressed the front of her body against his back, and peeked around his shoulder. As far as she could tell, in the bleak darkness of the night nothing moved. “I can’t see anything.”
“Because whoever it was is gone. The car took off.”
A wave of disappointment moved through her. Just as her blood started pumping, it now needed to cool. “That’s not good.”
He stared down at her. “Let’s talk about how this wasn’t your first shooting.”
An unexpected spark of electricity shot through the room at the sound of his deep voice. “We already did.”
“I’m thinking I need a bit more information.”
“Then you should have stopped the bad guys before they jumped in the car.”
“Uh-huh.” He turned around until little more than an inch separated their bodies. “Explain why people keep taking shots at you.”
“No idea.”
His inviting mouth loomed just inches above hers. “I knew you were going to be trouble.”
Chapter Four
Cassie’s head snapped back. “What are you doing?”
The woman asked a very good question. “Standing here.”
“You were going to kiss me.”
For a second there he toyed with the idea, yeah. “Think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”
“I know when a man wants to kiss me.”
She didn’t have to sound so appalled by the possibility. “So, that’s a ‘yes’ on the arrogance thing?”
“Come off it. I saw you.”
“Then you need glasses.” And a drink. Maybe that would help.
“You’re two inches away and swooping in.”
“Swooping?” Cal stepped back and well out of swooping range.
Mauling complete strangers was not his style. Neither was making a move on an estranged friend’s grieving sister. Make that grieving baby sister. She was somewhere around thirty and hot as hell. Dan probably hadn’t slept through the night since Cassie turned fourteen. No sane man who wanted to protect her would.
It’s Hotter in Hawaii Page 2
