Chapter 1 Read online

  “Sorry,” Hopper said, glancing at Solomon and pulling his legs back.

  I lowered my arms and sat back down, turning my legs away from Hopper’s lethal footwear. “What was the question again?”

  “What did you do in the parking garage?” Hopper repeated.

  “Nothing. I, uh…I read the owner’s manual.”

  Solomon jerked his head toward me like a turkey gobbler. “Excuse me?”

  “To the car. You know, the owner’s manual. When Nick left me, I didn’t have anything else to do.”

  “And what was Mr. Worthington doing while you were ‘reading the owner’s manual’?” Solomon asked.

  An uneasy feeling washed over me. I hadn’t told them Nick’s last name. I reached back to rub the tension out of my neck. I moved slowly this time, so as not to set off Agent Solomon’s trigger-happy hand. “Mr. Worthington didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask.”

  Agent Solomon took a deep breath, blew it out, and rolled his eyes toward Hopper. “I find that hard to believe, Ms. Shields.”

  I shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant. “Believe what you want. It’s true.”

  “How well do you know Nick Worthington?” Hopper asked.

  Why were they asking about Nick? And where was he anyway? “I met him a few days ago when he flew me to Waco. Why all the questions? What’s going on?”

  Hopper peered up at me under dark brows in dire need of a trim. “Let us ask the questions.”

  That did it. I refused to be treated like a criminal, badge or no badge. “Excuse me, but don’t I have some rights, like Miranda or habeas corpus or something?”

  Hopper looked at Solomon, who nodded. Hopper spoke. “I work out of the Dallas office for ICE, that’s U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. We’re the largest investigative branch of the Homeland Security Department. We protect the borders by targeting people, money, and materiel that support terrorist and criminal activities.”

  I wondered if I should be taking notes for a test later on.

  Hopper continued. “We got a lead on a plane, like the one you flew in on.”

  I frowned. “What kind of lead?”

  All at once the metaphorical light bulb over my head flashed on. Nick must be involved in some kind of criminal activity. Drugs? Illegal aliens? Or was it possible Nick was a terrorist? My instincts told me he was dangerous, but not that kind of dangerous. But what about the package he’d picked up at the hotel? Could it be drugs? Maybe he’d taken me along to make it look innocent, a couple taking in the sights of New Orleans. Could the Espositos be using him without his knowledge? Or maybe he was using the Espositos.

  “We’ve got people searching the plane. So if there’s anything you want to tell us, now is the time,” Hopper said. He tugged his tie in a vain attempt to loosen it. I wanted to grab it, pull it tight, and growl in his face I was innocent.

  Instead I leaned forward and tapped my finger on the table in time to my words. “I, don’t, do, drugs.”

  I plopped my purse in front of Hopper with a loud clunk. “Here. Search it.” When he just sat there staring at me, I reached over and turned it upside down, dumping the contents on the table. A box of breath mints flew out and landed in Hopper’s lap, causing him to jerk upright as he grabbed at them. Loose change rolled onto the floor, and dog biscuit crumbs spilled onto the table. Hopper eyed them suspiciously. I half expected him to lick his finger, touch it to the crumbs, and do a taste test for cocaine.

  I stood up and pulled out the pockets of my jeans. “See, nothing here.” More crumbs fell to the floor.

  “Take it easy, lady,” Hopper said.

  “Take it easy? You bring me in here and threaten me and then tell me to take it easy? I demand…I demand a lawyer!”

  If it worked on TV, maybe it would work here. Demand a lawyer and they had to arrest you or let you go.

  “We haven’t threatened you, Ms. Shields. You don’t need a lawyer. Yet. Now calm down, would you?” Hopper pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose with a loud honk. Then he stood up, towering over me. I took it as an attempt at intimidation, so I stood up too. Since I barely came to his shoulders, I felt empowered when he sat back down and sighed. I gathered the contents of my purse and crammed everything back in. Then I sat down, my back straight. “You can’t hold me here. I want to make a phone call.”

  “You sit tight, Ms. Shields,” Solomon said. “We aren’t accusing you of anything.”

  Just then, the door burst open and a younger man, minus the scowl, poked his head into the room, rubbed his eyes, and motioned the men over.

  Solomon and Hopper stood. I jumped to my feet, grabbed my purse, and backed away from them. They weren’t going to take me without a fight. I waited while the two older men conferred with the younger man outside. Finally, Solomon walked back to where I stood. I held my purse in front of me for protection.

  “You’re free to go,” he said.

  “What do you mean, I’m free to go?”

  “Just what I said. You’re free to go.”

  “Don’t I get an explanation?”

  “Nothing to explain. You wanted to go. Now go.”

  He looked at Hopper. “Some days, you know…” Then he turned back to me and hitched up his pants. “Ms. Shields, did anyone ever tell you that you have a vivid imagination?”

  “Mr. Solomon, did anyone ever tell you that you have a big gun and a badge? That’s kind of frightening to a person who’s never even had a parking ticket!”

  He rolled his eyes at Hopper, opened the door, and motioned me through.

  “You wait till my father hears about this,” I said, trying to sound important.

  He didn’t have to know my father had been dead for two years.

  At the end of the narrow hallway, Nick leaned against the wall. When he saw me, he straightened his runner’s body and gave me a small wave, his eyes apologetic. I walked past him without saying a word, leaving him to trail along behind me.

  “Julie, wait a minute. I’m so sorry. This is all a mistake.”

  “Some mistake.” I kept walking, though I had no idea where I was headed. “I’m interrogated about what I’m doing in New Orleans and told they’ve got a lead on your illegal activities, and you call it a mistake?”

  He reached for my arm, but I jerked away and picked up my pace. Lucky for me I’d worn my athletic shoes. Nick might be a runner, but today he wore loafers. I was so angry, all I could think of was getting away from him, but I knew better than to break into a sprint. After my encounter with the feds, I wasn’t eager to have them after me again.

  “Julie, please,” Nick pleaded, as he fell back and I plunged forward. A feeling of power and freedom surged through me, a vindication for his making me wait at the hotel, for having the kind of eyes that always hurt me, and for his role in the Solomon and Hopper charade. My instincts had been right from the start. The Nick Worthingtons of the world were bad news.

  Give me Noche and Blanco any day. They might be unruly, but they weren’t going to get me in trouble or break my heart. I’d been wrong to let Nick charm me. I should have stayed in Waco where I belonged. It was late now and past time for the dogs’ next training session. I had only limited time to teach them, and here I was in New Orleans wasting precious hours. I had a job to do, a marriage to save. But more important, the future of Noche and Blanco was at stake.

  As I turned a corner, I saw a women’s restroom, ducked inside, and took my time. After fifteen minutes or so, I peeked out. Nick was nowhere in sight. I crept down another hallway, found an unlocked conference room, and eased inside. I stood in the darkness a few moments to calm my racing heart before feeling my way further into the room. When I got to the end of a long conference table, I pulled out a padded chair on rollers and sat next to a plate glass window. I leaned over and pressed my cheek against the cool, damp glass.

  Gradually, my eyes became accustomed to the dark. That’s when I saw it. While I’d been in the windowless room with Hopper and Solomon
, fog had enveloped the airport, suffocating all activity. The entire airport was grounded.

  I stared into the grayness as if it held the answer to my dilemma. My choices were limited. I could go back to the waiting room where Nick had left me earlier, hope the fog would lift, and swallow my pride by letting him fly me back to Waco. That is, if he was even waiting for me. Or I could rent a car and drive back, but it was over four hundred miles. Either way I looked at it, I was screwed.

  Then, as if sent by the god of Java, the comforting aroma of coffee wafted through the air, summoning me like one of the Pied Piper’s rats. I lifted my face. My nose twitched. I followed. I found myself in the refreshment commissary.

  The kindly, cocoa-colored face of a man standing next to the counter welcomed me with a smile, providing a stark contrast to the pasty-faced men I’d just escaped.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Please.”

  “You look like you could use a cup. Nwahlins not treatin’ you good?”

  “New Orleans is treating me fine.” I rolled my aching shoulders to loosen the tension. “It’s everything else that’s treating me bad.”

  “Go on now. You too pretty a lady to let the bad stuff get you low feelin’. I know we all got our crosses to bear. Yes ma’am. Bet you got a loved one waiting for you at home and can’t get back to him.”

  His words hit me hard. I’d given scant thought to little Philip in the past few days. And here I was, even farther away, with a man suspected of who knows what, and me not even knowing how I was going to get out of New Orleans.

  The cocoa-colored man poured me a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I said, plucking a handful of creamer containers from a bowl of ice and heading for a dark corner table. I bent my head over the coffee and inhaled the rich aroma, an elixir for my sinking spirits. Then I poured in three containers of Coffee-mate, watching the creamy liquid swirl into the coffee’s darkness, turning the contents a rich, soothing mocha. I took a sip of the strong brew, leaned back, closed my eyes, and drew a breath of relief.

  The respite was short lived.

  “Julie! Where did you go? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  I didn’t have to open my eyes. I recognized the voice.

  Nick was on his second cup before either of us spoke again. We’d sat drinking and staring at each other, a duel to see who would break the silence first.

  Finally, I could stand it no longer. “Okay, tell me your story.”

  “There’s no story to tell.” A muscle pulsed in his clenched jaw.

  I had to admit I took pleasure in knowing I could provoke him.

  “Oh, come on. You really think I believe the federal government is going to haul me in and question me because of a lead? They must have had a better reason than that. What aren’t you telling me?” His eyes bored into mine. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out though his nostrils, his lips tight.

  I took a sip of my third cup of coffee, keeping my eyes riveted to his.

  “Like I said. It was a mistake. Wrong plane. Wrong guy. They got a lead on a Seneca V carrying drug money, but it wasn’t mine. Do you think they’d have let me go if I was guilty?”

  I met his stare head on. “So why did you stop at that hotel? What was so important you left me sitting in a hot car for twenty minutes?”

  “You were counting?”

  I said nothing but looked daggers at him.

  He broke eye contact and stared into his cup. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect it to take so long. Something I needed to pick up. It’s personal.”

  “Ah…personal,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm.

  “What is this, the third degree? Fine. You don’t have to believe me. Let’s get out of here and find a place to stay. First thing tomorrow, I’ll take you back to Waco, and you won’t have to worry about associating with a drug dealer again.” He reached for my arm, then changed his mind. “Come on. There won’t be any available rooms near the airport in this weather, but I know a hotel not too far from here where we can spend the night.”

  Did the man think I was that naïve? “I’m not going anywhere.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  His eyes turned steely gray like the fog. “Don’t be an idiot. You think you’re going to stay in this airport all night?”

  I tilted my head down and looked up at him with lifted brows. “That’s exactly what I plan to do. You go on.” I waved a dismissive hand at him. “When the weather clears up, I’ll be in the waiting room.”

  He gave a wry laugh. “The weather isn’t going to clear up tonight. There’s no way we’ll get out of here before tomorrow morning. So we might as well get a good night’s rest…in a bed.”

  The mention of the word bed renewed my resolve to stay put. “No thanks. You go ahead.”

  I picked up my purse and strode off, not looking back. This time Nick didn’t try to stop me or follow. I found my way back to the empty conference room.

  Remembering my heaven by the lake, I wondered what the Espositos were thinking. Surely Nick had called them. Then I realized I couldn’t trust Nick to do anything. Times like these I almost wished I had a cell phone. Almost. So far I’d resisted my mother’s and sister’s attempts to get me connected to the new century. Let my mother call my sister five times a day, not me.

  I fumbled around in the darkness, found a phone, and managed to punch enough buttons to get an outside operator so I could charge a call to my home number. I was relieved when the Espositos’ answering machine picked up. I left a short message explaining our situation and hoped they’d understand this fiasco was all Nick’s doing.

  By now, the view outside the window had faded into nothingness. No runway or tower lights were visible in the heavy darkness that had settled over us. I found a spot in the corner, half concealed by a potted palm. Curling into a fetal position, I imagined I was home in my own bed with Philip next to me. Using my purse for a pillow, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but adrenaline from the encounter with Solomon and Hopper and the caffeine from the coffee had me wired. At some point I finally drifted off into an exhausted, dream-filled state of unconsciousness.

  The next thing I knew, someone was shining a light in my eyes. I squeezed them tighter and pulled the blanket over my head, thinking how warm Philip felt behind me. Spooning. I rolled over and wrapped my arms around him, snuggling into his familiar warmth. Arms enfolded me and pulled me closer. The lips nuzzling my neck felt as if they belonged there, and the scent of shampoo and bristly skin against my face reminded me the sea, white capped and salty.

  But I wasn’t home. And the body against mine certainly wasn’t Philip’s. It took a few seconds for me to wake up and remember where I was, namely, on the floor in a conference room of an FBO at the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport. Someone had covered me with a blanket in the night, and the light was a streak of sunlight from the window announcing a new dawn. The someone I was pressed against was Nick. A surge of longing made me want to nestle closer to his hard male body.

  Being a born-again virgin wasn’t as easy as I’d thought when I made the vow. I’d like to have a talk with whoever thought up that idea. I summoned all my strength and twisted away, trying to sit up, but my back was kinked. I rubbed my gritty eyes and tried to swallow. My mouth was as dry as a West Texas drought.

  Nick gave me a slow lazy grin and tried to pull me back against him. The man was incorrigible. Any other man, a normal man, would have given up by now.

  “Good morning, Sunshine,” he said.

  Even with a day’s worth of stubble, he looked good. I fought the urge to reach up and touch his face. Then I remembered yesterday’s events, and the old rage returned. I sat up, holding my head in my hands, groaning with both regret and pain. Finally, I managed to stand, slowly and stiffly, and brushed off my clothes, attempting to regain my composure.

  “Have you been here all night?” I croaked through dry lips. “I t
hought you were going to a hotel.”

  “I said we would go to a hotel, but you shot down that idea.”

  “You could have gone by yourself.”

  “And leave you here alone? Not safe.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I wasn’t going to take that chance. Besides, you needed a blanket, so I got one from the plane.”

  So that’s where it came from. My body was still throbbing from Nick’s sleepy embrace, and I needed a distraction. I reached down, picked up the blanket, and began folding it. “I suppose I should thank you.”

  His eyes glinted with amusement. “Oh, I think you already have.”

  My face on fire, I shoved the blanket at him. “What did the Espositos say when you told them we were fogged in?”

  “Berto wasn’t there, so I talked to Carmen. She was not happy the dogs missed their afternoon session. I tried to explain it was my fault.”

  So he had called. “Tried?”

  “She wasn’t in the mood to listen. She just kept going on about Berto’s ultimatum.”

  “Great. Now I’m on her bad side again. If we’re going to get those dogs trained, she’s got to trust me, and this isn’t going to help.”

  ****

  In the air once more, I flipped through the newspaper I’d picked up the day before and pretended to read, but I still couldn’t concentrate. “So what’s the real story on those federal guys?”

  Nick’s jaw twitched. “I told you. Wrong plane. With all the drug trafficking in and out of Mexico, these guys have to follow up on any information they get. A case of mistaken identity. These things happen.”

  I thought again about the package he’d picked up at the hotel in New Orleans. He’d taken it out of the trunk when we got back to the airport. And he’d taken it with him when he left me to ready the plane for our return flight. Where was it now? What was in it?

  “What about the package?” I asked. If he was really innocent, he shouldn’t mind telling me.

  He let out a tired laugh. “Julie, give me a break. You’ve been watching too many crime shows. You think it was drugs? Sorry to disappoint you. Just something Carmen asked me to pick up.” He gave me a pointed look and frowned. “What kind of guys are you used to hanging around with anyway?”