Kincaid’s Dangerous Game

deliberately copied his stance. “You are the nosiest guy I ever met, you know that?”

He smiled. “Goes with the job.”

She hadn’t expected the smile. For some reason and without warning, a tightness gripped her throat. Unable to speak for a moment, she looked at the floor and gave a little sigh of laughter, then caught a breath and lifted her eyes back to his. “What are you doing here, Kincaid? I’m not even gonna ask how you found me.”

Without a word, he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” she demanded as she took it. She unfolded the piece of hotel stationery. On it, neatly printed in block letters, was a couple’s name: Corrine and Michael Bachman. Below that was an address in Reno, Nevada. Below that was a name, circled: Hannah Grace.

Billie couldn’t feel her fingers. She stared down at the paper. The words danced…shimmered…blurred.

She didn’t know what to do.

I won’t cry. I can’t cry. I sure as hell am not going to throw myself into his arms, not again! But I don’t know what to do.

“This is her-my daughter?” Her voice felt scratchy, and sounded unfamiliar.

“That’s her.” His voice was gentle-damn him. It would have been better if he’d been brusque. She could have handled that. Gentleness…not so well.

“Huh.” She shook her head, struggled to find breath. Pulled air in, then let it out. “That easy, huh?”

“If you know where to look.” His hands had a strange, tingly feeling, an urgent need to reach for her…touch her. Hold her. He kept them firmly tucked between his folded arms and body.

“Wow,” she said, and he watched her struggle to find something else to say and finally give it up and just laugh, the kind of laugh that meant anything but amusement. Her throat moved convulsively and his ached in sympathy.

“Can I-” she said, at the same moment he said, “Would you like to see her?”

And even though he knew it was what she wanted more than anything in the world, he saw panic flash in her eyes. “From a distance,” he added gently, and she nodded in a dazed sort of way.

A moment later, though, she did a startled double take and said, “Now?”

“Sure, why not? You have the day off so might as well.”

“How did you-”

“I stopped by the garden center looking for you first. They told me you were off today. And tomorrow, too, right?”

“Yeah…” She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, fingered it restlessly, as if she didn’t know what to do with it. Then she tossed it onto the countertop. “It’s so far. It would take forever to drive to Reno.”

Holt smiled. “Who said anything about driving?”

Billie stood on the sun-bleached airstrip and watched the red-and-white plane taxi toward them, sending up puffs of dust that went spiraling away in the midday breeze. The plane looked way too small to hold three people. It looked like a child’s toy.

She sucked in a breath, which did nothing to relieve the knots in her stomach.

It’s happening too fast. It’s too much, first Miley shows up, and now this.

Her past was catching up with her. More than that. It seemed suddenly to be looming over her like a gigantic tsunami wave, one breath away from drowning her. She felt dizzy, a little sick. She wanted to lie down somewhere and go unconscious for a while until the world slowed down, or she caught up with it.

She’d had the same feeling before. Too many times before. In the past, her remedy for this feeling would be to run, to just go, get away as far and as fast as she could.

I should have gone. Should have left the day I saw him there in the garden center, picking out plants. I knew he didn’t belong there. I knew he was bad news.

So, why don’t you go now? What’s stopping you? Nobody’s forcing you to get on that ridiculous toy airplane.

The plane coasted to a stop. Beside her, Holt touched her elbow, then went jogging out onto the packed-earth runway. The plane’s single prop slowed and finally stopped, and the door opened and the pilot crawled out onto the wing, then jumped to the ground. He ambled over to meet Holt, and the two men clasped hands, then went in for the brief back-thumping that passes for hugging among guy-friends. Then Holt turned and beckoned to Billie.

She hauled in another breath she didn’t seem to have room for.

Why don’t I go? There’s the answer, right there. I hate it, but it’s there and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s him-Holt Kincaid. What good would it do me to run? He’d only find me again. I can’t escape the man.

And somewhere way in the back of her mind a voice she didn’t want to listen to was saying, Why would you want to?

“I want you to meet my friend Tony,” Holt said, reaching out to touch her arm, drawing her closer. “He’s the man who’s going to take us to Reno.”

The man’s hand swallowed hers and his smile seemed to light up the already sun-shot day. He reminded her of a Humvee-big and square and formidable, and he made her feel safe.

She nodded and managed a breathless, “Hi,” and his whiskey-colored eyes crinkled with laughter.

“Hey-it’s all good. I promise I’ll get you there and back in one piece.” He clapped his hands together like an enthusiastic child and beamed at her. “Okay. Are you ready? Well, hop in, then.

“You get to ride shotgun,” he told her as he guided her up onto the wing. To Holt he added, “Sorry, buddy-you get to sit on the floor. I took out the passenger seats to make room for my equipment and extra fuel.”

“I guess it’s a good thing it’s not a long flight,” Holt said dryly.

“I’m a photojournalist,” Tony explained to Billie. “So I’ve got lots of stuff. Plus, the places I go don’t always have convenient airfields with fuel pumps.”

“Uh-huh,” Billie said. She had her head inside the plane now, and was trying not to stare at the array of instruments across the front of the cockpit. She glanced back at the two faces smiling encouragement at her from below. “Um…I can sit on the floor. Really. I wouldn’t mind.” Because back there where nobody can see me, maybe I can curl up in a fetal ball and stay there until we land…

The two men chuckled, as if she’d said something funny.

“Never flown in a small plane before, huh?” Tony’s eyes were warm with sympathy. “You’ll be fine-I promise not to do anything crazy. Just buckle up…settle back and enjoy the ride, okay?”

“Okay.” She gave him the smile he seemed to want, but the truth was, she did feel a little better. It was just something about him, the laid-back, effortless charm that made her forget about thirty seconds after meeting him that he had a face resembling a cross between a bouncer in a biker bar and a benevolent pit bull terrier. Whatever it was, she just had the feeling she could trust him.

As she settled into the passenger seat she looked over her shoulder and found Holt’s eyes on her. Something in their watchfulness made a shiver go through her.

What about him? Do I trust him?

Why do I have to ask myself that? I must trust him, or I wouldn’t be making this insane trip with him, would I?

If that’s so, why does he make me feel…off balance? Unsure of myself? Scared?

Yes-scared. The truth was, Holt Kincaid frightened her. She hadn’t thought of it quite like that, until she’d met Tony and realized the difference. Tony was a stranger to her, and yet, he made her feel safe. Rather like having a big brother…

Brother? Wait. No. Could this be…

The thought popped into her head, and just as quickly she rejected it. No, this man had the deep-mahogany skin tones and broad cheekbones that hinted at Native American origins, and besides, Holt had told her her brothers’ names, and none of them had been Tony.

Still…the thought lingered. Brother…I have brothers? Holt says I do. Real ones.

And from the thought, as if from a planted seed, feelings began to grow inside her. Feelings she couldn’t define, because she’d never felt them before. Feelings…like warmth, and…comfort, and whatever the opposite of loneliness was called. Perhaps belonging?

All this went through her mind in the few seconds while she stared into Holt Kincaid’s eyes. Then she drew a shaken breath and turned in the high-backed red velveteen seat and pulled her seat belt across her chest. And as