Why was it that all nurseries had that sweet baby scent—infant purity laced with powder and lotion? Dane wondered. When he’d visited his sisters while their children were young, their nurseries had smelled like this. And what was it about women caring for children that gave a man the sense that all was as it should be, that all elements in the universe were harmoniously aligned? Annie would certainly consider that a male chauvinist thought.
Annie probably had no idea how she looked sitting there in Mother mode. She appeared comfortable, relaxed and perfectly natural in the role. A sudden, unbidden image of a pregnant Annie flashed through his mind. He vanquished the image as quickly as it had materialized.
“You’d make a wonderful mother,” Jeannie said. “Samantha has certainly taken to you.”
“I like children,” Annie admitted, then ruffled Samantha’s blond curls. “And I especially like this young lady.”
Samantha giggled and scooted closer to Annie. “I like you, too.”
“Have you ever thought of remarrying and having some children of your own?” Jeannie asked.
“Oh, I’ve thought about it,” Annie said. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that neither husband nor children are for me. My career is very important to me and I’m afraid marriage and motherhood would bore me to tears.”
Dane felt as if he’d been sucker punched. For a couple of minutes he couldn’t seem to find his equilibrium. Why the hell did Annie’s statement bother him so much? He barely knew the woman. They’d met only thirty-six hours ago. What difference did it make to him that the idea of marriage and motherhood bored her?
Dane treaded quietly down the hall, needing to get away before Annie and Jeannie were aware of his presence. He had to have a few minutes alone to sort out why he’d overreacted. No big deal, he told himself. Nothing to sort out. It’s just that he thought it unnatural for a woman not to want marriage and motherhood. Annie’s attitude went against everything he had grown up believing in—everything he still held true.
That was all there was to it. Nothing personal. Just a gut reaction. He’d have felt the same way if he’d heard any woman make the comment.
“I’d never think of marriage and motherhood as boring.” Jeannie caressed her son’s head as he lay at her breast, nursing greedily. “Being married to Sam and raising a family together fulfills me as nothing else ever could, not even the most successful career. But then, that’s me.”
Annie understood that it was true for Jeannie Dundee and countless other women like her. But her own disastrous marriage had left her gun-shy. And having a child without having a husband wasn’t something she’d ever considered.
“I need my career,” Annie said. “Perhaps ‘bored’ was the wrong word. It’s just that I wouldn’t be happy and completely fulfilled without my career, no matter how many children I had.”
“Or how wonderful your husband was?”
“Daddy’s wonderful, isn’t he?” Samantha beamed as she looked to her mother to confirm her comment.
“Yes, sweetie, your daddy is wonderful.”
“I suppose, if I were honest…it’s not that I don’t want a child.” Annie chose her words carefully, hoping anything negative she had to say about men in general wouldn’t affect Samantha’s hero-worship of her own father. “My father was very overbearing and so was my ex-husband. Our relationships were doomed because I wouldn’t conform to their wills. I had a mind of my own and I used it.”
“All men aren’t like your father and husband,” Jeannie said.
“I suppose not, but I’m not willing to take that chance.”
“You think Dane is like that?”
“I know he is. Good Lord, Jeannie, he’s a prime example of a Southern gentleman. And believe me, I won’t allow anyone to drag me back into the type of life-style I hated.”
Jeannie smiled sadly, her eyes filled with compassion. Annie couldn’t bear the other woman’s sympathy. She handed Samantha the book, stood hurriedly, and said, “Please, excuse me. I need to pack and get ready to leave.”
“Of course, you go right ahead.” Jeannie motioned for Samantha to come to her. “I’ll see you before you leave. To say goodbye.”
Annie rushed out of the room, trying to escape Jeannie’s tender concern. She didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her, least of all this kind, gentle woman, who had somehow cornered the market on happiness.
Just because Jeannie is blissfully happy as a wife and mother doesn’t mean you would be.
Halfway down the hall, she ran straight into Dane. The unexpected collision threw them both temporarily off balance. Dane grabbed her shoulders in an effort to steady himself and her. They stared into each other’s eyes. Boldly. Hotly. The uncertainty of their feelings and of the moment itself robbed them of rational thought.
Finally, after endless moments of silence, Dane released her and said, “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I’m fine. How about you?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“I was just going downstairs to get ready to leave for Biloxi.”
“Annie…” Dane paused, reluctant to tell her about Matt’s accident. “There’s no need to rush. Matt O’Brien was in a car wreck last night and he’s in the hospital with some cracked ribs and a broken leg.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I suppose that means a delay in sending someone down here.”
“There is no one to send,” Dane told her. “All the Dundee agents are on other cases.”
“Oh.” Annie’s mind tried to assimilate the information and its ramifications. The main thing she understood was that she didn’t have a bodyguard or an investigator.
Dane noticed her frown, the worry wrinkles lining her forehead and the dejected slump of her shoulders. “It’s all right. I’ll take the case and we can return to—”
“You can’t take the case!” Annie said, near hysteria in her voice. “I don’t want you!”
“I realize that, but you don’t have any choice. It’s me or nobody.” He wasn’t going to give her the option of hiring someone from another firm. Dundee Private Security and Investigation was the best and that’s what he wanted for Annie—the best.
Leaning back against the wall, she closed her eyes and sighed. “Damn!”
“I’ll put in a call to Lieutenant McCullough to find out if there’s anything new there, then if necessary, we can dock at Point Clear, check things out and then either drive or fly to Florence.”
Annie opened her eyes and faced him.
“How long will it be before there’s another Dundee agent free?”
“At least a week, maybe two. Why?”
“I’ll agree to your taking the case, if…and this is an important if…you’ll turn over the case to another agent as soon as possible.” She realized she could go to another agency and not wait for a Dundee employee to become available. Her common sense told her that was exactly what she should do. But she couldn’t bring herself to sever ties to Dane and the agency he headed. As irrational as it seemed, even to her, she felt a bond with Dane, and thus with his agency. He had saved her life more than once and that alone made her trust his abilities.
Dane didn’t flinch, didn’t show any response, but she sensed his anger. He wasn’t a fool, she told herself. He had to know the reason she didn’t want him as her bodyguard, at least not on an indefinite basis. He had to be as aware as she was that the sexual electricity between them was powerful enough to light up a whole city. If they ever acted on their desire, the end result could be lethal for both of them.
“Fine.” Dane snapped the word out quickly. “I’ll get our bags and we can set off for Point Clear after I call McCullough.”
“Then we have a deal?” Annie asked.
Dane held out his hand. “Yes, we have a deal. I’ll take the case on a temporary basis, only until another agent is free.”
Annie accepted his hand, shook it and released it as quickly as possible. Touching him was something she had to avoid from now
on. In the days ahead, she would have to remember not to get too close and allow temptation to lead her astray.
Once they entered the police station, Annie ran directly into the young man’s arms. Tall, lanky, and wearing a pair of gold-framed glasses, the guy looked to be in his mid-twenties.
Dane hesitated before he moved inside, crossed the room and stood at Annie’s side.
“Oh, Clay.” Annie patted the man’s back, her actions that of a friend giving comfort. “When did you arrive? How much have they told you?”
“I flew in this morning,” Clay said. “Mr. and Mrs. Robinson were too upset to come down, so I’m acting on their behalf.”
“Calling Halley’s parents was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do,” Annie said. “But after three attempts were made on my life, I knew I had no choice but to let them know that Halley was missing.”
“Somebody tried to kill you?” Clay’s eyes widened in shock.
“If it hadn’t been for Mr. Carmichael—” Annie nodded toward Dane “—coming to my rescue, I might be dead now.”
“Mr. Carmichael?”
“Dane Carmichael.” He held out his hand. “I’m CEO of Dundee Private Security and Investigation. Ms. Harden has hired me to take this case—protecting her and investigating Ms. Robinson’s disappearance.”
Clay shook hands with Dane. “You don’t think the police can find Halley?”
“Even if they can find her, they don’t have the manpower to investigate the story she was working on,” Annie said. “And unearthing the details of that story may be the only way to find her killer.”
Clay’s face paled. “She can’t be dead.”
“I’d give anything if—” Annie said.
Lieutenant McCullough came through the open door, a coffee mug in his hand. He nodded to Dane, then said, “Won’t you have a seat, Ms. Harden?” He gestured toward a chair across from his desk. “I’ll fill y’all in on what we know at this point.”
Annie sat. Clay stood. Dane eased into position behind Annie’s chair. McCullough perched on the edge of his desk.
“The last anyone saw of Ms. Robinson, she left the Grand Hotel with a man and they seemed to be on friendly terms,” the lieutenant said. “We found the man. He’s still at the resort. It seems he was a college friend she hadn’t seen in years. Jarrod Fines.” McCullough checked his notes. “The two went over to Foley for lunch that day and Mr. Fines says that Ms. Robinson stopped by the post office and mailed a package.”
“To whom?” Annie asked.
“Mr. Fines told us that she said she wanted to send her boss a little gift.”
“A gift for me?” Annie asked.
“You didn’t receive anything in the mail from Ms. Robinson before you left home, did you?” McCullough asked.
“No, nothing, but maybe something came after I left.”
“Mr. Boyd got in touch with your mother this morning and she told him that no packages came for you yesterday or today.” McCullough eased off his desk. “I want to apologize for not taking your concerns more seriously when you first came to me day before yesterday, but we don’t have much crime around here and—”
“Did Ms. Robinson mention anything to Mr. Fines about a story she was working on?” Dane asked.
“He said that they just reminisced about old times and about how surprised he was that she wasn’t married and raising a family. She told him that—” McCullough checked his notes again “—she loved being a reporter, that she wouldn’t have her exciting career if it hadn’t been for the encouragement and help of her boss, Ms. Harden.”
“But nothing about a special story?” Dane prodded.
“Only that she told him he shouldn’t be surprised if her name became a household word in Alabama pretty soon.” McCullough flipped his notepad closed. “We picked up Ms. Robinson’s suitcase and computer from the hotel. The maid took the items to the manager once they realized Ms. Robinson had left without checking out.”
“Anything in her suitcase or on her computer to give you a clue as to what happened to her?” Dane asked.
“Nothing.” McCullough sat behind his desk. “There were no fingerprints on the computer or the suitcase. Somebody wiped both clean as a whistle. The computer had been erased—completely. Every program on the thing was gone and all the files. The only thing we found in the suitcase, other than clothes and toiletries, was this key.” McCullough opened his desk drawer and brought out a plastic bag. “Mr. Boyd has identified it as the key to a lake cabin owned by Ms. Robinson’s family.”
“Halley and I went up there sometimes for a weekend, and occasionally she went up there alone when she was working on a story.”
Clay Boyd swallowed, then huffed out a calming breath as moisture coated his eyes. “What the hell has happened to her? Who would want to hurt Halley?” He turned his gaze on Annie. “How could a story for the magazine have endangered her life? Lieutenant McCullough told me that you think somebody killed Halley because of a news story. How is that possible?”
Annie tensed. Clay hadn’t meant for his question to sound accusatory, but that’s the way she’d heard it. Her guilty conscience kicked into overdrive. Whatever happened to Halley was her fault. She should have left the girl alone, allowed her to be swallowed up by the ancestor-worshiping, male-ruled world of her parents and grandparents. Being a reporter, even on a regional magazine, wasn’t really a ladylike career. Dennis and Amelia Robinson had been outraged that Annie had encouraged their daughter to wait before she rushed into marriage at the age of twenty-two. Annie had married at twenty-one, to a suitable young man she had adored, and within a year she’d known it was a mistake. Unfortunately, it had taken her nearly four years to end the farce. By walking out on her marriage to Preston and starting a new life for herself in Memphis, she had turned her back on everything her parents held dear—custom, tradition and male authority over her life.
“Why would anybody have killed Halley to keep her quiet about a story for Today’s Alabama?” Clay’s pleading stare focused on Annie. “What did you have her working on that was so dangerous?”
Dane slid his hand down to Annie’s shoulder and gripped her firmly, a comforting, I’m-here gesture that Annie both appreciated and resented. “None of the stories I had assigned to Halley were dangerous. I think she came upon something else, by accident, through a package that someone sent her. She told me that it was the story of a lifetime.”
“Are you certain it wasn’t in connection to one of the stories she was already working on?” McCullough asked.
“I don’t think so,” Annie replied. “She was working on a story about the upcoming gubernatorial race, interviewing all the candidates and their families, and one on food poisoning—you know, symptoms, what foods are most likely to be affected, any outbreaks in Alabama in the past year—and the third story was on Judge Weaver’s indictment for misuse of state funds. Actually about how it has and will continue to affect his career and his family.”
“None of those sound potentially dangerous,” Dane said. “Unless while uncovering facts in one of those stories, she stumbled across something no one was supposed to find out about, something that could cause major trouble if it became public knowledge.”
“All I can do is try to find Ms. Robinson,” McCullough told them. “We don’t have a body—” he glanced at Clay Boyd, then cleared his throat “—and we have no witness to any foul play. Without some sort of proof that a crime has been committed, we can do only so much.”
Annie jumped to her feet. “I’ll find you proof! I’ll find out what this story of a lifetime was. If someone killed Halley to keep her quiet, I’m going to reveal their dirty little secret to the world and—”
“Maybe she isn’t dead.” Clay’s face crumbled like old plaster, leaving behind a mask of fear and uncertainty. “Maybe they just kidnapped her and are holding her or maybe she did just run off…” Clay stumbled across the room, leaned his arms against the wall and buried his face in his
hands.
Annie went to him, laid her hand on his back and soothed him. “I hope you’re right, but we have to prepare ourselves for the very worst. Halley could be dead. And whoever tried to kill me thinks that I know something about the story, at least they think I know enough for them to want to see me dead.”
Clay turned to Annie. He stared at her with watery eyes. “I’m going to stay here until… But y’all go ahead and check out things around here, then go back home and maybe he—” Clay nodded to Dane “—can find out what Halley knew that put her life in danger.”
“We’re going to find out what happened and why,” Annie said. “I promise you.”
Clay rammed his hand into his pants’ pocket and pulled out his key ring. He removed two keys and handed them to Annie. “Here’s my key to Halley’s apartment and my key to the cabin on the lake. I know Mr. and Mrs. Robinson won’t mind y’all taking a look. Maybe y’all can discover something that will help us find Halley or…or…her killer.”
After two days of following every lead, all of which led to dead ends, Dane told Annie it was time to go home. The post office in Foley hadn’t been able to help them trace the package Halley had mailed because she’d sent it regular mail and hadn’t insured it. Dane thought that, perhaps, they could find some clues in Halley’s apartment or at the Robinsons’s cottage. Maybe Halley kept backup files or notes. Or it was possible she’d discussed her big story with someone in Florence. When Annie called and questioned the other staff members of Today’s Alabama, they’d been unaware that Halley was working on anything other than the three stories Annie had assigned her.
Dane made airline reservations and then rented a car. If someone was keeping tabs on Annie, he wanted to throw them off. Of course, it was only a minor maneuver, but at this point, Dane didn’t know whom he could trust. Until they proved otherwise, all of Annie’s family, friends, employees and business associates were under suspicion, as were the people who had known Halley Robinson. Including Clay Boyd. Although Dane thought that the man’s grief was genuine, he had seen more than one guilty man give an Academy Award winning performance.
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