by Debra Cowan
“Where was it?”
“Just north of One Fiftieth Street on Western. There’s a hard curve there.”
He nodded. “On the edge of Edmond city limits. I’m familiar with it.”
Just two weeks ago, a man had made the local news for taking that curve too fast and flipping his car forty feet into the ravine below. Liz could’ve done the same thing.
“So,” Kit said, “Tony did what Alexander wanted while he was in prison.”
“Using the prison’s computer? How long did it take the warden to catch him?”
“Never.”
Rafe’s eyes widened.
She glanced over. “He’s that good, Rafe. A computer guru.”
He nodded, prompting her. “But when he got out, Tony refused to help Alexander?”
“Yes.”
“So you think Liz’s accident was deliberate. And now she’s disappeared with Tony. I can see why you’re concerned,” Rafe said gently. With some surprise, he recognized a flare of anger. Liz was always pulling stunts, putting Kit through all kinds of hell and expecting her to ride to the rescue. “Doesn’t Tony think Alexander will look for him?”
“I really don’t know what he thinks.” She stepped away from Rafe and pulled a tissue from her purse.
Rafe’s hand fell to his side, and he moved back to his chair. Jaw tight, he shrugged off the insidious thought that she’d once again rejected him.
“I begged Liz to meet me somewhere, but Tony said those men might be following me, too. I haven’t seen anyone, though.”
If someone from the mob was really tailing her and they knew what they were doing, Rafe knew she wouldn’t see them. “She could be with Tony on a lark, Kit. Look at her track record.”
“I know her track record!” Her gaze shot to his.
“Would I be here asking for your help if I thought this was a joyride?”
Ouch. “You have to admit she’s done this before.”
“This is different, Rafe. I can tell. I heard how frightened she was.”
“Of Tony?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Did anyone at the hospital hear or see a struggle? Did Liz scream?”
“No, nothing.” Worry carved deep lines beside her mouth.
“She probably went with him voluntarily, Kit.”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
He hated the torture in her soft blue eyes. “So why would she do that?”
“She believes him, I guess.”
“About Alexander?”
“And Tony’s claim that he’s turning his life around. He’s called her every night since he got out, trying to mend fences. I thought she’d stand firm this time.”
Kit said this last half under her breath, causing Rafe to narrow his gaze. She’d never said anything less than supportive about Liz before.
“He knows he made a stupid mistake and he’s trying to fix it. He was doing well in his new job.”
“If Liz went willingly, and it sounds like she did, there’s really nothing you can do.”
“I’ve got to find her.”
“She’ll come home. She always does.”
She stared at him, her eyes huge in a face gone pale as chalk. “Tony said he could disappear, invent whole new identities for both of them. He can do it, Rafe. The FBI said it was a fluke they ever traced him to that computer scam in the first place. But running isn’t the answer. Tony should confront the problem, not spend his life looking over his shoulder. Or forcing Liz to do the same.”
Anger blunted her words. “I don’t know if I should believe Tony or not, but can I afford not to? I’ve got to find Liz and help her, in case Tony is telling the truth about the mob being after him. I can’t just turn my back on her.”
She never had been able to, and Rafe knew she probably never would. Due to the death of their mother when Kit was fourteen and Liz eleven, Kit had taken on the role of mother rather than sister.
“I went to the police,” she said. “They said there was nothing they could do. But I remembered that your uncle Wayne was with the FBI and he worked organized crime.” Her gaze, pleading and somber, locked with his. “That’s why I came here.”
Besides his uncle, Rafe had other contacts in the FBI. Which was why he knew the mob was moving into Oklahoma. “Why doesn’t Tony just go to the FBI himself?”
“He doesn’t have any evidence yet.”
“Kit—”
“He told me he snatched Alexander’s computer on the way out of town, that he’s going to get the evidence off of there, but right now he doesn’t have it.”
“Tony’s parole officer can go after him. Have you contacted that person?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ll do that.” Rafe made another note. “The more people looking, the more pressure, the better chance of finding them.”
“So you’ll help me?” The hope in her voice, her face, latched on to his conscience.
He knew he should pass this case off, but he couldn’t.
She’d been his first love. That connection would always be there, always mean something.
Bottom line—Rafe had never been able to turn his back on her.
“Please say you’ll help me.” Kit’s voice rasped. “You know how to find people. I don’t. Please, Rafe.”
Her whispered plea raked up memories of another whisper.
I can’t marry you. I want a partner, not a master.
She had always equated his proposal to giving up her independence. Ten years ago, Rafe had been exactly what she didn’t need. Or want. Resentment burned through him as he ran a hand over his face. And yet… Kit needed his help. Their past shouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it. “Yes, I’ll help you.”
Chapter 2
Relief washed through her, and Kit let out the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you. Where do we start?”
Something sharp flickered in Rafe’s eyes, and she was painfully reminded of their ending, the last time they’d seen each other. Regret flared, but she squelched it. Breaking things off with him had been best for both of them. She refused, as she had for the last ten years, to second-guess that decision.
“Start by telling me where Tony might go.”
“I don’t know. His parents in Davis, maybe.” She could still feel Rafe’s touch on her shoulder, a gentle comfort, yet it branded her skin. She began to pace again, thrusting a hand through her hair.
He spared her a glance, scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. “Any place he and Liz might go together?”
“His apartment, but I already checked it out. No one was there.”
She couldn’t help staring as Rafe continued jotting notes. The lush eyelashes, the too-straight patrician nose he’d inherited from his white mother. The high cheekbones, dark slash of brows and burnished skin testified to his Choctaw father. Rafe’s blatantly male features were leather dark, lined by confidences she’d never shared, smiles she’d never seen.
While waiting for him in his office, she’d steeled herself against the old attraction, but she hadn’t been prepared for the actual sight of him. The sleek black hair trimmed military short. The sculpted lips that had once turned her bones to water. Corded neck and biceps bared by the khaki T-shirt that loosely covered his hard, rangy chest. Lean runner’s legs gloved in worn, starched denim. And scuffed tennis shoes.
“Where’s his apartment?”
She dragged her gaze from Rafe, resumed her pacing. The movement helped dispel the warmth that had started to creep into her blood.
She gave him the name and address of a complex on the north edge of Oklahoma City, only a mile from her own house. The warmth of spring clung to him, as well as a mysterious scent that belonged solely to him. Not musky, not woodsy, but something in between.
Kit’s pulse throbbed heavily, and her throat grew tight. He was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. For a moment, her worry over Liz was pushed aside in a sudden surge of emotion—regret, sharp and b
itter. Affection, uncertainty.
Questions tumbled through her mind. What had brought Rafe back to Oklahoma City? Why had he left the Air Force?
The shock in his face upon seeing her had unnerved her, but not nearly as much as that instantaneous sultry heat in his eyes. Those black, smoldering eyes were now obsidian hard, remote.
Kit squared her shoulders, trying to push away everything except thoughts of her sister. She became aware that Rafe watched her impersonally, waiting for her to continue.
“Liz lives with me. She has for the last couple of years, since Tony went to prison.”
He nodded, making another note.
Her heart squeezed at his distance. What did she expect? That he would greet her as if she were an old friend? Kit had ruined that when she’d refused to marry him. Rafe’s matter-of-fact announcement that they would marry hadn’t been the first unilateral decision he’d made, but it had been the one to unleash a long-buried panic.
Since her mom’s death, Kit had made all the decisions in her family with the exception of a few financial ones. Her dad’s work schedule prohibited him from spending much time at home, and Kit had stepped into the void left after her mom’s death, taking care of the house and her sister. At first, she’d thrilled to Rafe’s take-charge attitude, to the fact that she’d found someone willing to shoulder her burden. But when he’d expected her to move east with him so he could attend Navy flight school, just up and leave her father and sister, she’d realized she couldn’t marry someone who made those decisions alone. She wanted to be his partner, not his insignificant other. So she’d said no to him.
The years had made a noticeable difference in him. He had always been lean, but now there was a whipcord strength in that leanness. A soberness in his eyes and face. A sense of…unpredictability that had Kit’s pulse kicking up a beat. She shoved an unsteady hand through her hair again.
His cool black gaze urged her on.
So Rafe was gorgeous. And as remote as a stranger. So what? He was going to help her find Liz. That was what mattered.
A memory clouded his eyes. For an instant, some of the tension in his face melted away. “You said you were a flight attendant for TransAmerica?”
“Yes.” On one of their first dates, they’d discussed the fact that Rafe wanted to be a pilot and Kit wanted to be a flight attendant. High with the exhilaration of new love, they’d declared it fate that they’d met and become involved.
Kit swallowed the sudden lump that rose in her throat.
His face closed again. “Where did Tony work?”
“For a major computer manufacturer.” She gave the name. “He developed software for them.”
“This was his most recent job? The one he started just out of prison?”
“Yes. I called there yesterday and left a message with the answering service for a friend of his, Mike.”
“I’ll check that out tomorrow.”
“I also went down to Davis and spoke with Tony’s parents. They haven’t heard from or seen him.”
“Could they be lying? Maybe hiding him?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Kit realized her hand was in her hair again and lowered her arm. Inhaling deeply, she took in the slight tang of Rafe’s scent. Though quiet and often reserved, there was a steadiness, an intensity about him that filled a room. “They were very upset when I told them what was going on. They haven’t seen Tony since he went to prison—they were too embarrassed and angered by what he did.”
His gaze narrowed on her long enough to make her skin prickle with an unwelcome heat. Apprehension and a hint of anticipation swirled inside her, emotions that had nothing to do with her sister and everything to do with the man across from her.
“What if they’re off in Las Vegas or some place like that?”
“I still need to find her.”
“Would Tony hurt her?”
“I don’t think so. I think he really did take Liz with him out of concern for her safety. I mean, we can’t discount that, right?”
“I won’t discount anything. I’ll look at every angle. I’ll start by going to his apartment, checking things out.”
“I went there and couldn’t find anything.”
“I might know other things to look for.”
“Of course.” Kit couldn’t help the stiffness of her tone.
His silent scrutiny, the stoic face all combined to make her want to squirm. Through the years, she’d learned to handle some fairly intimidating men, and she didn’t appreciate the way just one measuring look from Rafe could make her feel as if she were in his way.
“I’ll also check with his parole officer.”
“I didn’t think to do that.” She shook her head. “This whole thing has knocked me for a loop. I’m so upset I probably did miss something at Tony’s apartment.” She forced a smile, her chest tight and aching.
“That’s what I’m here for. I’ll look for anything that might give a hint to where Tony could’ve gone. Check with the airlines and the bus depot, see if he bought a ticket using a credit card, though I doubt it.”
“I can do that.” Kit pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse.
“No.”
Hand poised over her purse, her gaze snapped to his. “What?”
“I’ll do all the checking and call you when I’ve found something.”
She stiffened, crumpling the paper in her fist. “I want to help.”
“I know what I’m looking for. You don’t.”
His voice was gentle, but steel rimmed the words and sent a shaft of irritation through her. She’d hoped the years might’ve mellowed his insistent control. “I’m coming with you.”
“None of my other clients—”
“I’m coming.” The old anger swept in along with a flash of panic. Telling herself Rafe simply didn’t understand how important this was to her, she took a deep breath. “I need to be there when you find her.”
“I don’t know anything about this Alexander character. If he actually is connected to the mob, he could be dangerous. Besides, you need to be safe and sound so Liz has someone to come home to when I do find her.”
“She’s supposed to call me. Wouldn’t you rather be around to hear it?”
“You’ll let me know.”
She hesitated, then blurted, “Do you not want me along because of the past? Because of what I…what happened?”
His lips flattened. “No.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I said no.” Rafe bit out the words.
Kit took in the steel jaw, the piercing, narrowed eyes. Had he ever forgiven her for refusing him? “I won’t get in your way.”
She couldn’t tell if she was reaching him or not. The Rafe she’d known—loved—hadn’t had those black eyes that hardened to marble. Hadn’t been able to disappear beneath a stoic mask of indifference. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. Panic sawed at her.
“I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“I don’t like working with anyone,” Rafe said bluntly.
“Well, I didn’t love coming in here, but I did it.” She clenched her fists, stepping toward him. “Liz is in danger. I have to find her. You don’t know what it’s like to feel helpless, to feel—”
“I do know.” His voice lashed the air as he pushed out of his chair, tension coiling in his broad shoulders.
Kit took a reflexive step back, frowning at the harsh emotion beneath his words.
“I know helplessness, second-guessing, uncertainty—” He broke off, anger vibrating from him. “Don’t tell me I don’t.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”
“Don’t presume to know anything about my life, Kit. Don’t make assumptions about me.”
What had happened? She swallowed the question. She had no right to know anything about him, no right to care. She’d given that up long ago.
He leaned across the desk toward her, eyes blazing, a muscle
flexing in his jaw. “Just because we were involved once doesn’t mean you know me now. Doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”
“I could say the same to you.”
The air snapped tight, hummed with old anger, past hurts.
Fury tautened his carved features; his throat worked. “Let’s agree to stick to this case,” he said hoarsely. “And facts about this case only.”
She nodded, her mouth dry, her heart hammering with the same wildness it had the first time she’d ever noticed him. He’d been running to class, up the hill past her. Long, lean legs bared by denim shorts, moving with a muscular fluidity that slowed her steps. The wispy image of his burnished flesh sliding against her pale skin floated through her mind.
She slammed the door on those thoughts. She wasn’t going to let her hormones—or her memories—get in the way of finding Liz.
“It’s not a good idea for you to come along,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Still think you ought to be calling all the shots, don’t you, Blackstock?”
Surprise widened his eyes a fraction. “This is how I do business.”
“This is why we didn’t work out ten years ago.”
Says you. His hands fisted as he studied the opposite wall. “I can move faster if I’m alone. And there will be situations where people might not talk to me if you’re around. This really is best, Kit. Take it or leave it.”
Ten years ago, she’d walked away from this very thing, but she didn’t have that luxury now. “Maybe my sitting around doing nothing is not best for me. Or for Liz.”
“Let me do my job. I’ll check in with you as often as you like, every step if you want, but it’s best if I’m solo.”
She set her jaw, her gaze burning into his. “I’m paying your fee. I should get to call the shots.”
“Not with me.”
Frustration hardened her voice. “How did you get in this line of work, anyway? It’s got nothing to do with flying jets.”
His face closed. “Long story.”
One he plainly wasn’t going to tell her. Swallowing against a sharpness in her throat, she said, “Fine.”
He tapped a finger on the desk, his gaze scouring her face. “No more talk about the past.”
