Eden's Dream (6 page)

They worked together to prepare the meal, and soon the aroma of frying chicken filled the kitchen. Noel, who'd been assigned to set the table, sniffed the air appreciatively. “How much longer?”

“Another few minutes. I just have to put more dough into the pan so that there will be plenty of biscuits. Why don't you grab the honey, butter, and salad?”

“But of course, madam.” He removed the salad from the refrigerator, grabbed the honey and butter, and set them on the table.

Eden placed a basket of crisp, golden chicken next to Noel's tulips. She set down a dish of plump, honey-colored biscuits and went in search of the carton of iced tea.

“I've got wine as well,” she offered.

“Nope. Tea's just fine. Goes well with chicken and biscuits.”

Eden took the seat across from him, glad the tulips provided a barrier behind which she could hide. His closeness made the air around her evaporate.

Her safe spot quickly disappeared when Noel got up, moved the vase to the counter and flashed a cocky smile. “Now isn't the view much better?”

Though her stomach fluttered, Eden refused to acknowledge his loaded comment. For something to do, she passed him the biscuits. “Here, have one.”

Fascinated, she watched him load his plate and pour on honey, before slowly following suit. When she looked up again, a tiny golden glob dribbled from Noel's lips. She longed to reach over and kiss the spot where amber colored the ocher. Better yet, she wanted to lick the honey away.

Noel, oblivious to her scrutiny, said between mouthfuls, “I've been thinking, Eden, didn't your friend Lori have help from her husband getting those logs?”

Eden slowly pulled herself back to earth. She nodded, dreamy-eyed.

Noel took another bite of biscuit. “Wouldn't Lori's husband have relied on someone else to get him the information he needed? You did ask for a couple of years' worth of records.”

This time remnants of flaky biscuit and delicious butter lingered on his lips. Eden chewed carefully before swallowing hard. “There's always the possibility Michael needed help.”

“Let's say I'm one of the rank and file,” Noel speculated. “My boss asks me to dig up two years of mechanical records on a plane that crashed, I'd be real curious. During my break, I might even tell the other guys about my assignment.”

“True. But how do you explain why someone called me here? How would they have gotten my number?”

Noel waved the chicken leg he was holding. He smacked his lips. “Umm, umm, umm. You can cook.” Eden rewarded the compliment with a smile. Unable to resist touching him, she reached across the table to dab his lips with her napkin.

Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist, holding her captive. Noel's eyes, flecks of green-gold, mesmerized. His voice, pure gravel against pitch, said, “Can you be sure that only your mother and Lori have your number? And is it possible that your mom could have given that information to other relatives? Could Lori have given that information to Michael?” Noel's emerald gaze kindled a spark deep within her loins. This was sheer madness. She'd been without a man far too long.

“If your fax and phone number are the same and the Goldmuntz children helped their parents…” Noel continued, seemingly oblivious to her reaction.

His words hit home. Eden finished his train of thought easily. “That means that all three Goldmuntz children had that number…”

“—And whoever else they told about their project. And let's not forget the person who dropped those logs off. Couldn't he have been a Pelican employee?”

Eden didn't want to think about it. Up until that eerie phone call, she'd considered the six square miles or so of Mercer Island her haven. Refusing to voice her fear, she said, “I've got ice cream for dessert.”

Noel made a face.

Eden decided to call him on it. “Now don't get sanctimonious on me,” she jabbed, slipping from his reach and pointing her finger at him. “You've just devoured two pounds of chicken and an equivalent amount of fattening biscuits, so another bowl of cholesterol won't hurt.”

Noel picked up his plate and stood. “How about if I help with the dishes?”

“No dessert, then?”

“No thanks. I'm stuffed.”

As they cleaned up the kitchen, Eden again had the uncanny feeling she'd seen him before. She wondered if he'd tell her the truth if she asked. “Noel,” she began, “why is it I get the feeling I've met you before?” Noel stacked the last plate in the dishwasher and latched the door. He wiped his hands on the towel she gave him. His voice grew serious when he said, “I would have remembered if we'd met, Eden.” He dropped the damp towel on the counter and pulled her closer to him. “I'd have a hard time forgetting.”

She was lost in his eyes, lost in the moment. When he dipped his head to claim her lips, she wound her arms around his neck and brought him closer. As their bodies melded and the kiss deepened, her defenses weakened.

Against her hair, Noel whispered, “Eden, I want to make love to you.”

His hands cupped her bottom, pressing her closer. She felt his arousal and knew he meant business. If she said yes, he would take her right there on the hard kitchen floor, if that was what she wanted. She wasn't ready yet.

“Noel,” she said, “I want—” What did she want? Assurance, that he was who he said he was?

“Anything, baby, anything.”

“I want us to—stop.”

Noel's arms fell to his sides. Eden stumbled.

“If that's what you want. Fine by me.”

“Noel,” Eden pleaded, “I hardly know you.”

He was already at the door, his voice cool. “No big thing. I understand. Would you mind if I took some of those files with me? I'd like to review them before we meet again.”

“Sure.” Eden thrust a stack of folders at him. “Noel, I'm really sorry.”

“No problem.”

Silent messages arced across the space as their eyes held and locked. For a moment she imagined she saw regret there and something more. A ringing phone reminded them of the outside world.

T
he rude intrusion
brought the present sharply into focus. Eden's heart thudded as she glanced in the direction of the sound, then back at Noel.

“Would you like me to get that?” Noel asked.

“Please.” Her voice sounded strained, as if all oxygen had been cut off from her lungs.

Noel quickly retraced his steps, grabbed the ringing phone, and shouted into the receiver. “Listen you…” Embarrassment flashed across his features as he caught himself, and in more amenable tones added, “Yes, Eden's right here.” He handed over the receiver, and with an exaggerated grimace, mouthed, “Sorry. It's your mother.”

Eden's lips twitched as she pictured her mother's shocked expression on the other end. No doubt her cheeks were puffed in outrage. Making an effort to squelch the laughter bubbling below her diaphragm, she braced herself for the inevitable slew of questions to follow. “Hi, Mom. Isn't this somewhat early for you?”

“Eden, who was that man?”

Eden tried her best not to giggle. “What was that?”

“You heard me. That man, Eden. Who is he?”

Noel raised his hand, wiggling his fingers. Having the grace to at least look sheepish, he edged his way toward the door. He paused on the threshold, winked, and stage-whispered, “Call me later. My number's on the table.”

She could kill him, just kill him. He'd abandoned her, leaving her to handle the maternal inquisition.

Her mother's voice penetrated. “Eden, answer me, child.”

“Sorry, Mom. I was saying good-bye to someone.”

“Funny, you never mentioned
someone
before. Are you seeing this man, Eden?” This time her mother sounded leery.

Now where had she gotten such a crazy idea? Eden chuckled nervously, her mouth refusing to formulate words. Seconds later she said, “Noel's my next-door neighbor, Mom. He comes by to help me every now and then.” She quickly shifted gears. “So how are things at home?”

An interminable number of seconds passed before her mother answered. Eden exhaled when the talk turned to family. Then out of the blue her mother said, “Eden, I went to the post office to pick up your mail like you asked me to. It was mostly junk except for one yellow slip. I signed for the registered letter. I thought you'd want me to.”

The idea of certified mail immediately put Eden on edge. “Who's it from?”

“Your job, I think. The envelope's got Pelican's address. Want me to open it?”

“Sure.”

Eden wrapped the cord of the receiver tightly around her fists and eased into a nearby chair. What now?

Through the earphone she heard the rustle of paper and a harrumphing sound as her mother cleared her throat.

“Pelican wants to know when you're coming back to work.”

Eden had expected something like that, except not this soon. The last note from her doctor had granted an indefinite leave of absence, but she'd known at some point Pelican would pin her down to a definite date. Sinclair Morgan, her boss, had been extremely accommodating so far. That goodwill obviously couldn't go on forever.

“What exactly does the note say, and who signed it?” Eden asked.

Her mother read it to her, summarizing with, “You need to call to arrange a physical. It's signed by the director of human resources and your boss is copied.” Eden expelled the breath she'd been holding. The requisite form letter. She'd call her doctor before contacting Sinclair. That should buy her at least another month.

“I'll handle it, Mom,” she hastened to reassure.

After more chitchat, the conversation ended, Eden picked up one of the huge envelopes Lori had sent her and headed for the bedroom.

N
oel snapped
his laptop closed and wearily wiped his eyes. He'd had difficulty concentrating ever since Eden had received that bizarre phone call. No stranger to threats himself, the call bothered him. Was Eden a target now?

He massaged his aching temples, playing back what he'd been through over the past few months. He'd been forced into hiding after the last attempt on his life. The threats had begun when he'd started asking questions about the Pelican Air crash. Then when he'd appeared on the news and done the talk-show circuit, they'd escalated to more than warnings. He'd actually begun to fear for his life.

At one point a letter bomb had been sent to his home. Thank God he'd been smart enough not to open an envelope with no return address. He'd been shot at, narrowly escaped being run over by a car, and the plane he owned with a couple of buddies had been sabotaged. Hell, they'd even killed his cat. More and more this house on Mercer Island had become a welcomed refuge. As an added bonus, he'd been able to rent the house right next door to the woman who might help put those elusive pieces of the Pelican crash together.

He'd moved to Washington State by design, betting that Eden Sommers would soon follow. She'd been described as the gorgeous fiancée of the pilot who'd crashed that plane, and he'd hoped to worm his way into her confidence.

Noel's interest had piqued after reading a newspaper article in which Eden was purported to be the last person Rodney Joyner had spoken to before he died. The pilot's last words could easily reveal his state of mind. Noel had convinced his friends to do a background check on her, and learned about the house she'd inherited. When she'd dropped out of sight, he'd known she would eventually show up like a homing pigeon. The bonus was his ability to rent the property next door. What he hadn't counted on was his irrational attraction to the woman. Now that attraction was sidetracking him from doing his job. He needed to concentrate, get the information he needed, and hightail it out of there before he did something stupid, like fall in love.

Forcing Eden Sommers from his mind, Noel returned to the folders on his desk. The tick tocking grandfather clock in the corner reminded him of the hour. He'd just e-mailed a coded message to his boss, and any minute Gary should be calling.

Even so, when the phone rang, Noel jumped. He'd never been this edgy. As images of Eden's lovely honey-colored face clouded his vision, he reached to answer. He smiled, picturing sparks of outrage flashing from those huge brown eyes as her mother grilled her. Instinctively he knew there would be hell to pay when he heard from her again.

Noel ignored the tug in his groin. His voice was more gravelly than ever when he answered. “Hello.”

A man's voice bubbled over with excitement. “Robby, man, got your message, figured I'd touch base. Your plans seem to be moving along nicely.”

Noel squelched his disappointment and forced himself to say, “Hi, Gary. How are things on your end?”

“Promising. We got a great lead today. We were able to speak to the second officer's ex-wife. She claims he had a drinking problem. Could be she has an ax to grind, but you never know. It's worth a shot. Claims the guy had been a functional alcoholic for more than thirty years. According to her, he'd been known to hit the bottle before reporting for duty.”

“Not good. Don't airlines have specific rules about alcohol consumption before flights? Like no drinking nine-and-a-half hours before a flight?”

“I don't know the exact number of hours—just know they do. Each airline might have a different policy.” Gary paused for a moment. “Doesn't it make you wonder if Captain Rodney Joyner was that engineer's drinking buddy? I mean this accident hasn't made a whole lot of sense so far. The only plausible explanation for experienced pilots to have a plane practically fall out of the sky is impaired judgment.”

Grasping where this was heading, Noel drummed his fingers on the desk in front of him. His voice grew pensive. “That's an interesting theory, Joyner having a drinking problem. Let me see what I can find out.”

Gary chuckled derisively. Noel heard the underlying skepticism. “You're planning on asking the Sommers woman if her man had a drinking problem?”

“Hardly.

“Then exactly how are you going to obtain that information?”

“I have my ways.”

This time Gary snickered outright. “So it's like that, Rob, you sly dog?”

“Like what?”

“Joyner's body's not even cold and you're screwing his fiancée.”

His boss's crude remark angered Noel. Gary made it sound like he was a callous dog, like he was using Eden. That he would do anything to get information, even sleep with her if that's what it took. Not that making love to Eden wasn't something he'd obsessed about lately. What bothered him was that Gary made her sound cheap. Obviously he didn't know the woman. Bedding Eden Sommers would be a definite challenge.

“Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not sleeping with the woman,” Noel snapped. Then in modulated tones, he quickly added, “I'll keep you informed if anything further develops.” He hung up.

Too agitated now to concentrate and too upset to sleep, he went in search of a drink. He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and deciding he needed air, wandered onto the terrace. He leaned against the railing, looking in the direction of Eden's place. Her house was shrouded in darkness, though a flickering flame, followed by a tell-tale glow caught his attention. He knew she was out there, and knew she was smoking those cigarettes. Tempted to fly across space and rip the disgusting thing from her hand, he shouted across the distance, “Hey, I thought you'd quit.”

Silence. Then a smoldering butt flew in his direction, and Eden's defiant tones rang out. “I never said I quit, just that I'd cut back.”

Her petulance actually made him smile. He'd always liked women with gumption. “Touché,” he called, raising his bottle to salute her.

“
C
lasp your ankles
. Keep your heads down.” Eden heard the emergency commands clear as day. She said a quick prayer before hastening to comply. Around her, the cacophony increased. Venturing to look up, she saw the young mother seated beside her scream and clutching her baby to her bosom. Eden tried desperately to tell the woman she held the child in the wrong position, that on impact she would smother the kid. She should be bent over with her arms linked around the infant. Words failed her as her tongue refused to cooperate. She darted a glance down the aisle to see what the flight attendants were doing and noticed Rod heading her way. She exhaled a sigh of relief. He would save her.

“Rod,” she said, sitting up straight, her arms reaching out toward him. “Do something. Make the plane level off.”

Apparently he hadn't heard her since he just kept walking.

The sputtering engines made the passengers scream even louder. Eden yelled at Rod's retreating back. “Help us, Rod! For God's sake, help us!”

Her words were lost in the loud explosion that followed. Billowing balls of fire filled the cabin, obliterating him from her vision. Eden's chest tightened as the lump in her throat rose to choke her and the acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils.

She jolted awake.

It took several seconds before reality returned. Sweat poured off her body, soaking the sheets beneath her. The ache at her temples exploded into a thundering headache; the typical reaction after one of those dreams. Squinting into the darkness, she focused on the illuminated face of the clock on the nightstand. Five-thirty
a.m.
Might as well get up. There would be no more sleep now.

Too wound up to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, Eden headed for the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and waited for the pounding in her head to ease. She searched the medicine cabinet for the aspirin bottle, shook out two pills, and downed them with a glass of tap water. After changing into sweats, she headed for the kitchen to make coffee.

While waiting for her pot to brew, Eden roamed the terrace. A brisk morning breeze cooled her cheeks and provided a soothing balm to her aching head. Vibrant shades of green greeted her in every direction. Emerald lawns, lush olive shrubbery, and jade woodlands reminded her of Noel's eyes when his mood changed. Above, a cloudless sky promised a beautiful day.