Frankly, she thought she was pretty good-if not downright outstanding-at faking it. But there didn’t seem much point. She wasn’t that unhappy alone. She liked her job, her life. She had friends, respect in the community. She
But she hadn’t liked that kiss from Justin. Her lips still felt bee-stung, her nerves sharp-stung even more. She didn’t let go like that. Ever. She never went loopy, dizzy, spinning high with any man-and certainly not for a few ridiculous idiot kisses.
What the Sam Hill did Justin think he was
Something was wrong with him, she concluded. Bad wrong. Seriously wrong. The idea soothed her. She set down the empty milk cup and curled up under the covers, immediately starting to relax. She simply should have thought this through earlier. If Justin was acting bananas, there had to be a reason for it. Whatever it was, she’d talk to him. Help him. Like the friends they were.
And she’d reassure him, of course, that she realized he’d never meant that offer of marriage.
Two mornings later, as Justin drove to the site of the Asterland plane crash landing, his mind was on Winona, not business. Weddings, not plane crashes. Love, not problems. But the closer he got to the scene of the accident, the faster his mood turned grave.
As of hours after the crash landing, the sheriff had set up a roadblock, both to protect the evidence and to discourage strangers and gawkers. The cop immediately recognized Justin’s black Porsche, though, and waved him on.
The road ran out within yards, and turned into a desertlike hard pan surface. After spring rains, possibly the land was more forgiving, even decent grazing ground, but right now it definitely wasn’t the most hospitable spot in Texas. Most vehicles could undoubtedly traverse the hard surface, but with his baby, Justin had to slow to a crawl. Finally, the plane loomed in sight. And when Justin finally stopped the car and climbed out, a witch-bitter wind bit his cheeks and stung his eyes.
“Justin!”
He’d already recognized the other two members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club-and their practical, sturdier vehicles-but for a second, the look of the private jet had stunned him into staring. At the sound of his name, though, he promptly pivoted and hiked toward his friends. Typically, Dakota Lewis didn’t seem to notice that the January morning was mean-freezing; his jacket was gaping open. At least Matthew Walker had a red nose and cheeks like his own.
“I’m sorry to be late,” he grumped. “I started out early enough, but the Porsche does what the Porsche wants to do. One of these days, I’m going to turn into a grown-up and get a serious car.”
“We’ve only been waiting a few minutes,” Dakota assured him.
Again, Justin looked around. “Hell. If this isn’t enough to put chills up your spine.”
Just like the others, he’d hightailed it to exactly this site when the plane had first gone down, but it wasn’t dark now; there were no flames, no crying passengers…there was no sound at all but the shriek of a winter wind. Acres of Texas flatland stretched in all directions, bleached of all color and life at this time of year, and in the middle of that ice-gray desert was the mirror-silver of the plane, just sitting there. She was listing a bit, but she didn’t look as if she’d crashed or had an emergency landing. She just looked like an alien vehicle in the middle of a Star Trek episode. Big. Silent. A scream of high technology in a land of rattlesnakes and coyotes. And the door to the small jet gaped open like a mouth waiting for a dentist’s probe.
“I’m still surprised that the cops called us.” Matthew brought up the rear as they all strode toward the metal plane stairs.
“I don’t believe it was the cops’ idea that we were called in. I suspect it was Princess Anna’s family. No one in Asterland or Obersbourg has any real contacts in America except for the Texas Cattleman’s Club, so I think it’s pretty natural they’d want us as part of the investigation. They know us. They trust us.” Dakota led the way inside the plane. “It’d be different if some clues had surfaced as to the cause of the emergency landing. Of course, a fire’s the best way in hell to destroy evidence. But right now, I think everyone’s still worried about sabotage. If some answers don’t surface real soon, I’d be surprised if Asterland doesn’t send over its own team of investigators.”
“Well, I hear you, but you’re retired from the Air Force,” Matthew said to Dakota. “If anyone belongs here, you do. God knows, I’m willing to help, but I can’t imagine anything I can really do.”
“Same here,” Justin said. “But I think the point is to get a fresh pair of eyes on the site. Experts have already been over the place with a fine-tooth comb, but we’re the only ones who knew all the people on board. I think they’re hoping we’ll find something that no one else had any reason to notice.” He frowned. “But I thought Aaron and Ben were going to join us?”
Dakota nodded. “Ben is. In fact, he should be here shortly. He cell-phoned a few minutes ago just to let us know he’d been tied up. Not Aaron, though-Aaron took off for Washington a couple days ago and he isn’t back yet.”
“He went to Washington? Related to this problem?” Matthew asked.
Dakota shook his head. “I don’t really know what Aaron’s doing there, but when he was home over the holidays, I knew there was some problem with his job. I understood that he’d taken a leave of absence from his diplomatic work, so I figure he’s at the embassy in Washington-but all I really know was that he was really unhappy and worried about something.”
“I had the same impression,” Justin agreed. “In fact, I tried to talk to him at our Texas Cattleman’s Club shindig.” But then he’d gotten caught up watching Winona dance. Watching Win smile. Watching Win breathe. And that fast, she stole into his mind all over again. Memories snapped into his mind, of her holding the baby, and then of her holding…him. Kissing him. Coming alive in his arms in a way he’d never believed could happen.
The plane-crash scene, though, slapped him back to reality. And Matthew was still talking about Aaron Black.
“I tried to talk to him the night of the party, too, but then he got dancing with that plain-faced teacher with the sweet smile. What’s her name? Pamela?”
“Pamela Miles,” Justin affirmed. He remembered her, not from the night of the party so much, but from treating her the morning after the plane’s emergency landing. “She was on this plane flight, in fact. Headed to be an exchange teacher in Asterland-at least before the crash.”
“Well, she sure didn’t have her mind on teaching that night. I’d never guess that Aaron would go for that kind of gal, but they were sure glued closer than peanut butter and jelly for a while there. Anyway, I never got a chance to ask him anything about his job. He left early the night of the party. And in the meantime…”
In the meantime, all three of them fell abruptly silent as they slowly walked through the plane. Justin glanced at the other two men, but the view seemed to disturb all of them the same way. The whole group had been here the morning of the crash landing. Justin remembered it well. He’d gotten the phone call, driven here like a bat out of hell, saw the smoke billowing out, hurled out of his car and started working. He’d been a doctor that morning. Nothing else. Trauma medicine used to be his adrenaline flow, his heartbeat.
It wasn’t anymore.
He couldn’t let it be.
But the morning of the crash, for damn sure, all he’d seen were the passengers, their injuries, their frightened faces. Now the silence was eerie and the devastation inside the plane as frightening as a bomb site.
“Hell. What a mess,” Matthew muttered.
“It could have been worse.”
“A ton worse.” Dakota’s gaze riveted on the cockpit, with which he was obviously more familiar than either of the others. “You saw more of this than any of us, Justin.”
“Because I was inside right after the crash? Yeah, I suppose. But I only saw people. Patients. It’s all I was looking for or looking at. I never gave a second look to anything about the plane.”
“Well, let me fill you both in on what I know. This is where the fire started…” Dakota motioned, and then motioned again, “Robert Klimt was sitting here. And Lady Helena across the aisle there. Not surprisingly, those two were hurt worse than anyone else on the flight.”
The three of them had a passenger list and a diagram showing where each person had been seated, but Justin couldn’t keep his eyes off the plane’s interior. The overhead compartments were all yawning open, debris spilled all
