by Dora Hiers
Surprise showed in his arched eyebrows.
He didn’t have to spell it out. She was trouble, and she knew it. She sighed, feeling the smile slip, shoulders droop, steps halter. “I’m sorry, Ryker.”
“Sorry?” An arm slipped around her shoulders, leading them through the parking lot. “For what, Danae?”
“For causing you all this trouble.” Her words trembled out.
“You’re not the one causing trouble. Whoever is trying to scare you did this.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. I don’t blame you for this. I’m just glad I’m here with you, so you don’t have to be alone.”
He paused at the back of the rental car, his hand touching her arm, his lion eyes taking in their surroundings, cataloging people, cars, movement. Obviously satisfied nothing was amiss, he angled his head to one side. “How do you think I look at you, Danae?”
Did he not know? Really?
“You know. ‘The look.’” She mimicked his facial expression. Head cocked just so, lips pinched in a flat line, brows bunched together. “The look that says I’m in trouble. Or causing trouble. Or trying to get out of trouble. The look that says I’m just plain trouble. Period.” Pain leaked out in her voice, and tears swelled in her eyes.
His breath caught. Several seconds passed while he stared at her, unmoving, taking slow breaths, his jaw muscle clenching, unclenching. He blinked and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Danae. That’s not how I think of you. Yeah, maybe in the past. But not now. Definitely not now.”
His expression lightened. The lines around his eyes softened, and his lips curved. “Does this look suggest that I think you’re trouble?”
She shook her head, mute, afraid her voice would wobble.
He tugged her against his chest. She slipped both arms around his waist and rested a cheek against the pressed white shirt, listening to the boom-boom-boom of his heartbeat, wishing she had the right to snuggle against his chest. His chin settled on the top of her head, one hand around her back, the other stroking her hair.
She closed her eyes, savored the embrace, Ryker’s touch. Oh, why couldn’t this moment last forever?
He pulled back slightly. His hands framed her face, his thumbs caressing her skin, his lips a breath away. Was he going to kiss her again?
“Ryker?” she whispered.
“Yes?” His husky voice sounded unsure.
“If you’re going to kiss me again, no apologies this time, okay?”
“No apologies, Danae.”
She closed her eyes to the sweet taste of his mouth. Soft lips, with just a hint of peppermint, lingered over hers, teasing, tasting, then came back for more.
Oh, sweet love of God.
The kiss ended too quickly. She felt herself quivering for more. Ryker tugged her back into his arms, against that pressed white shirt, and tucked her inside his suit jacket. He kissed the top of her head.
“Does that kiss give you the impression that I think you’re trouble, Danae?” His voice rumbled against her hair.
She shook her head and burrowed deeper into his chest.
He chucked her chin upwards, forcing her to look up, to read the sincerity on his face. “And I will not apologize for kissing you this time. Is that better?”
She trembled, managed a nod. “Much.”
“Come on. Let’s get in the car and you can tell me what’s on the agenda next.”
He opened the passenger door, and she slid in. “Thanks.”
She watched him walk around to the driver’s side, love swelling in her heart, almost to the point of bursting. What just happened? That kiss didn’t scream, “I miss Jennifer.” That kiss was meant for her. Danae Huntley.
What did it mean? She hadn’t caught him in a moment of weakness like the last time. Was he just trying to make her feel better? Or did he have an ulterior motive? Like keep Danae close to his suit jacket so that when Stephen returned, he could walk away without guilt.
Whatever.
She couldn’t let him see how much she loved him. Nothing like unrequited love to ruin a friendship. But if he kept kissing her, he’d see right through her. Lion eyes, Ryker. He couldn’t help but see love glimmer from her face.
She’d have to put an end to the kisses. If not, she would be kissing their friendship good-bye. Not something she wanted to do, thank you very much.
He buckled in, cranked the engine, and unleashed those golden eyes on her. “Where to?”
Distance. That’s what she needed. Don’t let him get too close. She scooted over, until she hugged the door handle. She unwrapped a butterscotch candy and popped it in her mouth. “Dinner. How about some dinner?”
“Dinner sounds good. Feel like Mexican food tonight? I passed a great looking place just a few blocks from here.”
A Mexican restaurant. Light, spacious, festive. Yeah. That’s what she needed. Not some dark, cozy romantic table for two. “Yeah, Mexican food sounds great.”
Ryker hopped on the interstate for a couple miles, then exited, backtracking, constantly peering in the rear-view and side mirrors. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into a parking lot. A couple blocks? “Satisfied nobody followed us?”
Grinning, the marshal opened the door. “Yeah but wait for me.”
Always such a gentleman. Why would Jennifer give up a man like him? The woman must be crazy.
Ryker curled an arm around her shoulders, holding her so close she felt the cold steel of his weapon. He led the way to the entrance, his gaze moving from left to right, not stopping the scrutiny until they walked through the door.
Blessed light blazed in the reception area. Thank you, Lord!
Danae took a step back, away from Ryker’s arm. Distance, remember? She was only a job to him.
“Two please. A table toward the back if you have one available.” Ryker spoke to the hostess.
“Sure. Follow me, please.” The hostess grabbed a couple menus and gestured for them to follow.
He snaked a long arm out and tugged her close again, linking their fingers. Okay. So much for keeping her distance.
They settled into the booth. Someone placed glasses of water and chips and salsa on their table and disappeared.
Danae studied the menu. A big plastic menu blocking his gorgeous face should help, right?
Oh, this was ridiculous. She was acting like a thirteen-year-old with a crush. She slapped the menu on the table.
Tired eyes studied her. How could she forget the fear he’d faced and conquered today? If her brother—his best friend—had sent him the same text, would Ryker have stepped foot on that airplane? Danae shook her head. She didn’t think so. Guilt, sharp and hot as a sizzling branding iron, speared her conscience.
She draped a hand over Ryker’s fingers, squeezed. “Thank you for being here. For what you had to do to get here.”
His face paled, jaw clenched. He lifted his water glass and took a long gulp. “No problem.”
She wasn’t giving up that easy. “Oh, but don’t you see, Ryker? You battled your fear of flying and won. Congratulations! That’s a huge accomplishment.”
He grimaced and mashed a hand through his hair. “How about we hold off on the celebration until after we figure out what’s going on. Start by telling me about that text. We’ll work our way forward to the incident on the plane.”
She nodded. Back to business. That was for the best. Even better than putting distance between them. “I saw a black SUV with tinted windows outside the airport exit when we left to pick up our patient. I thought I saw it again on the drive to the hospital, but Jacko couldn’t confirm it. And then again when we got back to the hanger, parked a little further down from where I first saw it.”
“Could you determine the make and model?”
“No. We didn’t get close enough.” She scrunched her nose. “All those bigger SUV’s look the same. GMC. Ford. I don’t know.”
“Anything else about it that you can think of?”
“At first I th
ought it was Chris.”
“Chris? Your police officer friend Chris?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he drive a car like that?”
“He drives a big, dark SUV with tinted windows, yeah. But I don’t know the make and model of his car, either.”
Ryker unclipped his phone and tapped out a text. “We’ll find out soon enough if your friend Chris was working.” He set the phone on the table and picked up the menu again. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved. How about we relax for a few minutes and enjoy dinner? Try not to worry about your friends in the hospital. We’ll resume this conversation over coffee. How does that sound?”
“Fabulous.” Danae settled back against the cushion and dunked a tortilla chip in the salsa.
Somebody picked the wrong person to tangle with, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin her evening.
She was in Florida, a peninsula surrounded by beaches, filled with sunshine and laughter. Ryker was with her. It didn’t matter that he’d told Stephen he’d look out for her. Maybe later, it would. But not now.
She would relax for a couple hours. Enjoy dinner. Forget about the black SUV, set aside the worry that someone followed her and possibly poisoned her friends. She would enjoy every second of Ryker’s company. Just like Mrs. Martin said. I’m not wasting a second. Life is in the loving.
****
Ryker picked up the vibrating phone and read the text from Gunner. “Chris wasn’t at work today.”
Danae’s fork, full of chicken enchilada, paused halfway to her mouth. “What?” The fork clanged against the plate. “That can’t be right. He told me he was working every day this week.”
Ryker texted a reply then set the phone back on the table. “Yeah, well, according to his supervisor he didn’t work today. Called in sick.”
Danae picked up her iced tea, swirled it around in the glass. “So you think the SUV belongs to him?”
“I don’t know, Danae, but we’ll find out.” He bit into the steak fajita, mulling the idea that the vehicle belonged to Chris. Something wasn’t clicking. “Why would Chris camp out at the airport in his car? Why wouldn’t he call you? Or stop by your place?”
Danae shrugged. “Maybe because he knows I’ve been hanging out with you?”
He couldn’t figure it out either. “And if Chris was the one who attacked you in your house, you would know that, wouldn’t you?”
Danae nodded. “Chris wasn’t my attacker. The guy in my house was a little shorter than Chris’s six feet or so.”
Ryker didn’t want to ask how she knew that. “Okay. And the guy in the elevator?”
“I have no idea who that was.”
“So let’s lay it all out. First, you return home from a week in Spain to find someone in your home. We know it’s a male. You don’t think anything was taken but you’re pretty sure the person ransacked your desk. Then he came after you.”
Danae’s face paled but not even close to the green his sported earlier.
“Then, at your brother’s wedding an unknown male follows you onto the elevator and holds a knife to your throat, then ties you up. And that guy didn’t say anything to you? Issue any warnings?”
Danae scrunched that cute nose and shook her head. “No. Not that I remember.”
“Moving on. Next we have the Halloween ghost standing on your porch peeping in your window. The trick-or-treater in expensive hiking shoes, minus a bagful of candy.”
“The jury’s still out on that.”
“In your eyes, maybe, but not mine. That jokester better hope I don’t find out who he is, making me run through a dark cemetery like that.”
Danae laughed, color blossoming in her cheeks. Pretty cheeks.
Focus, McLane! You won’t be any good for Danae if you lose your focus!
“I don’t suppose we can count the bomb threat at the football game. Maybe a connection but probably not. Let’s not discount it, though.” He took a sip of water.
“Then someone hurled that imitation grave marker through my front window. With the message, “Stop your stupid crusade or this will be yours.”
“Yep. Keep going.” He drummed his fingers against the table.
“Seeing the black SUV three times. Might or might not be Chris’s personal car. He called in sick to work.”
“Have we left anything off?”
Danae cocked her head. “We saw Chris hanging out in his cruiser at the orphanage yesterday.”
“True.”
“And he also came by to check on me on Saturday when he saw your truck in my driveway.”
“So Chris has been in the picture a few times now. How often do you normally see him?”
“He stops by two or three times a week.”
The guy stopped by three times a week and they were just friends? “Anything serious?”
Her forehead scrunched. “Serious?”
She didn’t get it. How could she not know why Burton stopped by so often? It wasn’t for his health. “Relationship serious?”
Danae hesitated, a scowl lining those gorgeous, full lips. Lips he wouldn’t mind kissing again. He’d taste the salt, salsa, Danae. He gave his head a slight rattle. Focus, McLane. Big picture, remember? “Danae, anything would help us at this point.”
“Nothing serious on my end. He’d like more.”
Old news. Nothing Ryker didn’t already know. “Has he ever made any threats to you?”
Danae tugged on an earlobe. “No. No threats.” She rubbed a hand across her face. “Ryker, whoever is doing this, it’s not Chris.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“The same way I know it’s not you.”
Ouch. She plunked him in the same category as trigger-happy Burton. Not cool. “We can’t rule anybody out, Danae.”
The furrow pleating her forehead proved her disagreement. “I can. I know you didn’t attack me. Chris didn’t do it, either.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Danae reached into a pocket, pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. “It’s Jacko.” With a smile, she connected the call. “Hey, Jacko. You feeling better?”
Ryker popped the last bite of fajita into his mouth. Good thing Danae suggested eating. Getting on that plane had flushed his system. If Danae wanted to go back to the hospital tonight, he’d need his strength.
“So we shouldn’t come back to the hospital?”
Ryker leaned back against the seat, listening openly now. He took a long swig of cool water, feeling his body return to a semi-normal stage.
Danae disconnected and tucked the phone back in her pocket. She pushed her shoulders back. With closed eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, took a deep breath, exhaled, somewhat shaky.
Ryker reached for her hand, caressing soft skin with his thumb. “Are they going to be okay?”
Her eyelashes lifted, dotted with unshed tears. “The tests came back. Both Jacko and Ames tested positive. Looks like you were right. They were poisoned.”
13
“The doctor is keeping them both overnight for observation.” Danae paused, feeling the chicken enchilada stuck in her throat, and tugged her hand out from under Ryker’s fingers. She couldn’t deal with those mixed emotions right now. Worrying about Ames and Jacko was enough. “Ames brought donuts into the shop yesterday. Somebody snuck in and laced them with a drug. Do you think that was meant for me?”
With lips set in a grim line, the marshal crossed arms over his chest. “Who knows? With everything that’s happened to you recently, more than likely. But why? What’s the motive?”
“I don’t know. To scare me? Make me seem incompetent?” Her chin dropped. “Or worse. For the pilot to lose control and wreck the plane?”
She gulped down some iced tea, hoping to soothe her shattered nerves. “My boss wants me to stay away from the hospital. He doesn’t want Lucas in any danger.”
“It’s for the best, Danae. You wouldn’t want whoever’s doing this to harm Lucas, even ind
irectly, which could have happened on the plane.”
She nodded. “I know. And Clem pulled me off the job for now.”
That news probably stung the worst. Sure, somebody was threatening her. Up until now, the danger had been personal. Now, this bozo was endangering the lives of her friends and costing her the job she loved.
She inhaled, slow, deep, cleansing. Then, exhaled. No. She wouldn’t let this creep win. She’d fight to win, even if it cost her everything. “Ryker…”
His eyebrows arched. Worry clouded the golden specks.
“We need a plan. I want to pull this creep out into the open. Is that the best way to fight him?”
His jaw twitched. His hand enveloped hers again, warm, tender. “I’m not sure—”
“I am.” Determination steeled her voice.
He leaned forward, his grip tightening. “Danae—”
“Will you help me?” Please say yes, Ryker. Say yes.
He sat back, letting go of her hand.
She waited for ‘the look’ again. It never came. Instead, his face took on a guarded look, like he was hiding something.
He heaved a sigh. “Yeah. I’ll help you.”
“Great. What about going to an amusement park? Think that will flush this guy out into the open?”
“If he’s here. There’s always the possibility that he stayed in North Carolina.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
He grinned and jotted something down on a paper napkin, folded it, stuffed it in her hand. “Want to bet I know which one you’ll pick?”
How could he know which park she’d choose, if she didn’t even know? She tapped a finger against her chin. “I think maybe the animal park.”
“Open it.”
She unwrapped the napkin and glanced at the words. “How did you know?”
“I’ve known you forever, sweetheart. Give me a little credit.”
Panic swelled in her chest. What did he mean by that? Could he already know that she loved him? How? She hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t given any emotions away, had she?
Oh! The kiss. Make that kisses. Plural.
“Remember when you used to see dead animals in the middle of the road? How you used to yell for Mrs. Crandall to stop and pull over? You always wanted to make sure the poor thing was really dead and not just lying there, injured, waiting for help.”
