Courting Trouble (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 3) (9 page)

Diedra had just enough time to make two calls. The first was to Heather, begging her to cover things at the herb shop. Then she asked Bert to give Heather his key to the shop.

"No problem. I'll make sure everything is covered on this end," Bert reassured her. "Now go find your sister."

She hung up. Alec practically dragged her out of the office. He called Meagan and Jeff on the drive to the airport. Again, no response from either of them.

Before Diedra knew what was happening, she found herself seated on an airplane, taxiing to the runway, headed for New Orleans.

Her head hurt. She couldn't think clearly. All she could do was go over and over in her mind the last she'd seen of Meagan. Jeff's irate voice and gestures. The look of bewilderment on Meagan's face when Jeff had slung her into the car. The red tail lights as the car had sped off. Why hadn't she had the presence of mind to stop him before he'd run off with Meagan?

Was Meagan lying hurt somewhere? Had he kidnapped her? Why had he flown to New Orleans if something hadn't gone badly wrong? According to Alec, Jeff didn't have any legal business to attend to in New Orleans. So why were they going to another state to track him down?

Maybe they should have stayed put and contacted the police. Alec had called in all his favors and asked for more. If Meagan had been hospitalized, he would know, he insisted. So where was she?

The flight attendant pushed her cart down the narrow aisle and served them coffee. The hot drink, black as a night sky, stimulated her frozen blood.

Yes, they were doing the right thing. They'd find Jeff and learn that Meagan was fine. She turned and smiled at Alec. He'd been kinder than she had any right to expect, even from a family connection.

It didn't matter so much anymore that she found him wildly attractive, because she'd now learned he was also a very nice man. Gentle and dependable. She placed her hand on his wide palm. "Thanks."

He raised a brow. "You're welcome. Anyone would do it."

"No." She took a moment to consider her words carefully. She wanted to tell him exactly what she meant. "Not everyone would care and go to all the trouble you've gone to. They'd tell me to relax and not panic. You took action and shared my concerns. I appreciate it."

Not everyone would act as he had. Before, she'd been attracted by his looks, by his charm. Now she liked him very much for the kind of man he was.

And, boy, did she love the feel and taste of his kiss.

Suddenly, they heard a high-pitched sputtering sound, and then a deafening silence from the left side of the jet. Oh, no, this couldn't be happening. She'd flown several times before without any problems. Was it possible her personal black cloud had followed her up here? The engine had gone out. Were they going to crash? Had she risked not only herself but Alec and every single other person inside the jet?

The captain's voice crackled on the intercom system. "Don't worry, folks. Our left front engine has stalled out but we still have plenty of power. No need to panic. The tower has cleared us for priority landing. We ask you to take the precaution of fastening your seat belt until we've landed."

Diedra loosened her death grip on the seat arms. Maybe it had nothing to do with her. After all, engines failed all the time. Accidents did happen. It was merely coincidence that she was on this flight. She hoped.

The flight attendant came back down the aisle, collecting unfinished beverages and reminding everyone to put on their seatbelts. When Diedra handed her coffee cup over, the spoon flew off her saucer and dived into Alec's lap.

He shot her an accusing look as he picked it up and placed it in the attendant's outstretched hand.

As soon as she'd gone on, Alec whispered in Diedra's ear, "What the hell is going on? First the collar and now the spoon. Where'd you put the magnet this time?"

"Can this wait until after we land?"

Alec shook his head. "You put me off the last time I asked. I want some answers."

"I promise to give you an answer but you aren't going to like it or me. Just let me get onto solid ground and you'll have it."

Alec nodded and took her hand. Why did he have to do that? Didn't he realize that telling him without hoping for more from him was hard enough? His every gesture made it harder and harder to come clean with him. It was inevitable, though. As were the consequences.

She pulled back her hand.

He'd drop her faster than a hot ember. He'd drop her so fast that not only her head would spin but also her heart. Every moment in her past, every experience, every relationship she'd ever had or almost had led her to believe this with every fiber of her being.

It was so good being with him. Why did it have to end before it got started? She leaned forward and placed her arms on the seatback in front of her, fighting tears. She didn't want him to see her like this.

Sure, Alec would help her find Meagan, help her get through this mess, but there wouldn't be any more hand holding, hugs or hot kisses in cars. Instead, he'd keep his distance because distant was the only safe place to be if he valued his safety.

She caught movement out of the side of her eye just as she heard a clang and deep grunt from Alec. She was afraid to look too closely, but she peeked at his face. His eyes were clenched shut. Her gaze drifted downward. Oh, hells bells.

No wonder he was in pain. Glancing at the seat in front of her, she realized that somehow she'd managed to release the AirFone from the seatback, and it had tumbled down. Now it hugged Alec's crotch.

Chapter 9

Both A.C. and Diedra powered up their cell phones as soon as the jet hit the tarmac, but neither of them received a call. A.C. had to curb his impatience getting off the plane. It wouldn't do to climb over the first people to disembark. Jeff had damn well better turn up fast. Perhaps Hawkins, or one of his employees, would be waiting at the gate with information about Jeff's whereabouts.

It was the first time A.C. had hired Hawkins, a private detective based in New Orleans, but the man had come well recommended. A.C. had a tough time letting go of control, especially when releasing it to someone he didn't know. He just hoped Hawkins would live up to his reputation as one hell of a hot shot, do-it-or-die investigator.

As A.C. and Diedra impatiently awaited their chance to enter the crowded airliner aisle, the aroma of old air and scented perfume almost overpowering his senses, she turned and gave him a nervous smile.

She should be nervous.

Right now, when they were chasing down Jeff, trying to find out what had happened to Meagan, wasn't exactly the best time for Diedra to have chosen to play games with him. He'd had more than enough of her practical jokes.

When they finally stepped away from their seats and got off the plane, he gripped his jacket in one hand and her hand in his other. She had a wild look, like a deer about to bolt. She might not know it yet, but she wasn't going anywhere without him. Not until he had an explanation.

"We're supposed to meet Hawkins here at the gate."

Diedra nodded and swallowed, as if stiffening up her courage. She opened her mouth to speak but a man stepped toward them and asked, "Mr. Sparks?"

"Hawkins? Got anything for me?"

"Yes, sir. If you and the lady will follow me, there's a bar around the corner where we can talk."

Hawkins's gaze lingered over Diedra, assessing, admiring. For the first time in A.C.'s memory, he rated another man on his attractiveness. Hawkins had a lanky build and blond-haired boy-next-door good looks. He scored highly, which didn't please A.C. at all. He didn't like the idea of attractive louts checking out Diedra.

Hawkins had better be damn good at his job.

Entering the well-lit bar, they sat down without placing orders first. That could wait. "Have you located Jeff?"

"Yes, sir."

Sir??? While Hawkins pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket, A.C. glared at him. So, okay, he was a few years older than Hawkins, but the lad didn't have to rub it in.

"Call me A.C. All my—" he shot a warning look at Diedra "—business associates do."

"Sure, A.C. I found Jeff. He's on flight 409 back to Dallas."

A.C. jumped from his seat. "What?"

"Have a seat, A.C. I've booked you on the next flight. It leaves in over an hour. That'll give me enough time to fill you in on what I've learned before you have to go through security."

A.C. sat. What the hell was Jeff up to? He'd been in New Orleans for less than four hours. Why make a trip at all if the business could be accomplished in such a short time?

"Did you find out where he went?"

"No. I do know he took a cab to the French Quarter, but beyond that, I don't have anything else to tell you."

"Mr. Hawkins." Diedra reached out and placed her hand on the detective's wrist. "Tell me you know where my sister is."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I can't help you there."

The detective had given A.C. more information than he'd expected to receive. Hawkins was good, he had to grant him that, but if Diedra didn't remove her hand from the man's wrist, A.C. would be extremely tempted to break Hawkins's arm and any other body part he could manage to body slam.

Diedra must have sensed the tension. She sat back and primly folded both her hands in her lap.

A.C. stood to shake hands. "Thanks for what you were able to glean on such short notice."

"My pleasure. Anytime you need some help in the New Orleans area, feel free to give me a shout." He laid two airline tickets on the table and left.

"Let me call my office to see if someone can catch Jeff at the airport, and then we'll hop on the next flight."

Diedra paled. "You go, Alec. I—I need a little time. I'll rent a car and drive back."

What was she talking about? Did she have some idea of what Jeff was up to? Is that why she wanted to stay? "I thought we were in this together."

Her brows narrowed. "Of course we are. At least, that's what I'd hoped."

"Then why do you want to stay in New Orleans?"

"It's not so much that I want to stay in New Orleans. It's more that I don't want to fly back to Dallas."

A.C. rubbed his face with his hands. Sometimes talking with Diedra was even—impossible as it might seem—more confusing than following a conversation with his mother. He rubbed his eyes. He rubbed his forehead. He rubbed his neck. Then he scowled. "Talk. Now."

"I don't know where to start."

"Try the beginning." So far, A.C. had managed not to grit his teeth. His mother always made him grit his teeth.

"All these rapid-fire questions. I wish you'd stop talking to me in lawyer-speak. It makes me nervous."

"I'm sorry. It just comes naturally." He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

"Well. I have this problem."

"Go on. No stalling. I'll miss the next flight if I have to."

"What you see before you is Murphy's Law in action. If I'm anywhere in the vicinity, anything that can go wrong always does." Her voice came out low, almost whisper-like and wavery. He felt guilty about forcing her to say whatever she was going to say, but what choice did he have?

Diedra, meanwhile, knew she was done for. Once she told Alec the full truth, he'd want even less to do with her than he had before. But she had to do it.

"I'm electromagnetically impaired. Lights go out. Watches stop or speed up. Machinery does things it was never intended to do. Engines..." She couldn't continue.

He took one of her hands into his.

Diedra was nervous enough already, without that physical contact. She figured he intended to be reassuring, but he was making her nerves ping-pong around in her chest. So much was at stake here, at least for her and the state of her heart.

"You're holding hands with a SLIder, Alec. It's short for people who have Street Light Interference Syndrome. I'm not the only person to have this problem. But it seems to be getting worse."

Why didn't he say something? Why did he just sit there, waiting for her to go on?

She'd rather get up and run for the nearest ladies room. That wasn't a real option, though, because sooner or later it would come to this again and he'd tell her sayonara. He'd say it had been fun and he'd disappear from her life as soon as possible. No one wanted to hang around with someone who was deluded—or worse, a professional jinx.