Authors: Ginna Gray
"Max." Erin's voice quivered with fear. Unconsciously seeking support, she groped behind her for Max's hand, her fingers closing tightly around his on contact. She stared at the jumbled mess, unable to tear her gaze away, and slowly shook her head. "It wasn't this bad earlier. Someone has been here."
Max grew instantly alert, his body braced as though for battle. He dropped Erin's suitcase and pulled her behind him. "Stay here." His sharp gaze darted about the room as he gave the terse command.
"Where are you going?"
"To search the rest of the apartment. Whoever did this might still be here. If you hear anything, I want you to run like hell."
Erin leaped forward as though someone had touched her with a cattle prod. "Oh, no you don't!" she cried. "You're not leaving me behind." She scuttled up as close to Max's back as she could get, grabbed a handful of his shirt and hung on tight.
"Erin, do as—"
"Forget it, Delany. Where you go, I go."
Max glared at her over his shoulder, but Erin stuck out her chin and met the look with stubborn defiance. After a moment he bit off a curse and, muttering something under his breath about willful women, led the way.
A thorough search produced nothing other than the discovery that the rest of the apartment was in the same state of chaos as the living room.
"Whoever did this was looking for something."
"But what?" Erin asked shakily, still hovering close to Max as they surveyed the wreckage in the bedroom.
Max shrugged, his expression grim. "Who knows? Could be they're afraid that Elise got her hands on some incriminating evidence. Or maybe they were just looking for a clue as to where she's gone."
"Then you do believe that I told you the truth? That Elise saw something she wasn't supposed to, and her life is in danger?"
"Yeah, I believe you. Finally," Max said in a voice that was harsh with self-condemnation. "And so will the police when they get a look at this mess."
He started for the bedside table and the phone, but Erin grabbed his arm with both hands, stopping him. "No! You can't call the police!"
Max looked astounded. "Erin! What the devil's the matter with you? We have to report this," he insisted, waving his arm at the wreckage. "And once you tell them your story, they'll find Elise for you."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"What?"
"Max, when I suggested to Elise that she go to the police, she became hysterical. She insisted that someone on the police force was involved, and she made me promise not to contact them."
Max hesitated, frowning.
"Please, Max," Erin pleaded, clutching his arm. "We can't. Elise was terrified. Don't you see? If she's right, we'll only be making things worse for her."
Expelling a heavy sigh, Max raked a hand through his hair and dragged it down the back of his neck. Looking up, he scowled at the ceiling as he massaged his taut muscles. "All right. We'll do it your way. At least, for now. But we're getting the hell out of here. And don't argue," he commanded as he took her arm and marched her toward the door. "If you think I'm going to leave you here, think again. This place isn't safe. Whoever did this might decide to come back for a second look."
It gave Erin the creeps to think about some faceless criminal invading her sister's home, going through her things, and she didn't argue when Max hustled her out of the apartment.
In the car it was a different matter.
"I have to find her," Erin stated the instant Max turned the key in the ignition.
"We'll talk about it in the morning." He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled away from the curb. "After you've had a good night's sleep we'll discuss this whole thing with clear heads and decide on the best course of action."
"No, Max, I—"
"If you're going to tell me to take you to a hotel, think again. You're coming home with me."
"You don't understand. I don't want to go to a hotel. I have to start looking for Elise. Right now."
Max shot her a hard look. "I assume you're talking about hiring a private detective," he said cautiously. "Please tell me I'm right."
"No. I'm going to find her myself. The fewer people involved, the better."
"Oh, God."
This time the look he flashed her was one of extreme irritation. "Dammit, woman—" he began, but when Erin responded with a quick, defensive tilt of her chin he bit off the tirade. Gripping the steering wheel more tightly, he stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched. She had the uneasy feeling he was grinding his teeth.
At the next intersection Max turned onto a side street and pulled over to the curb. He doused the lights and shifted the car into Park but left the engine running. Turning sideways, he crooked his knee on the seat, draped one arm along the back and the other over the steering wheel and fixed his gaze on Erin. In the dim light from the street lamp she could see that his handsome features were etched with concern, his blue eyes intent beneath a worried frown.
"Erin, you can't be serious," he said in a more reasonable tone. "Whatever's going on, these people aren't playing games. You could find yourself—"
The buzz of the car phone cut him off. He snatched it up with a terse "Yeah. Delany."
He listened intently to the person on the other end of the line, and as she watched his expression harden, Erin grew more and more tense.
"I see. Okay, thanks for the information. Oh, and keep this under your hat until I check it out, okay?"
Max hung up the phone and gave Erin a long, thoughtful stare. "That was Charlie. It seems that the brake line on Elise's car had been cut."
Erin felt suddenly weak and cold, as though all of the blood had been sucked out of her body. She'd had a hunch, of course, that the near tragedy had been no accident, but to have her suspicion confirmed was chilling.
"Not quite all the way through," Max continued. "But close enough so that the first time you stepped on the brake you ruptured the line. After that, all it took was a little more pressure to empty it. By the time you got to the first curve all the fluid was gone."
Clasping her hands together in her lap, Erin struggled to subdue the quivering sensation in the pit of her stomach. "I see," she said in a shaky voice that was little more than a whisper.
"You have to give up this idea of finding Elise yourself," Max insisted. "It's just too dangerous."
"No," Erin replied at once, shaking her head. "No, I can't do that."
"For Pete's sake, Erin! What does it take to convince you? There's already been one attempt on your life because someone mistook you for Elise. Don't you realize that that's why she called and warned you to stay away? Because she was afraid this very thing would happen?"
"Of course I realize it. But that doesn't change anything. I still have to find her and help her if I can."
Frustrated, Max sighed and looked at her in amazement. "Lord, woman, do you always rush in where angels fear to tread?"
A weak smile claimed Erin's mouth. "So my family tells me."
When Max made a harsh sound she placed her hand over his, where it lay knotted in a tight fist on the back of the seat. "Oh, Max, don't you understand? Elise isn't just my sister. She's my identical twin, and she's very dear to me. She's also soft and... well... fragile. The thought of her alone and terrified is more than I can bear. I have to do what I can to help her.
"It will be all right, I promise you. I left a message for my brother, explaining what was going on. He was with the FBI for years. When he catches up with us he'll know what to do."
Max did not look reassured. "I don't suppose there's anything I can say that will make you change your mind?"
Gazing at him regretfully, Erin shook her head.
"That's what I thought." Max looked away and stared into the darkness beyond the pool of light spilling from the street lamp, then turned back to her and heaved a sigh. "I probably need my head examined, but... okay. Where do you suggest we start?"
"We? But—"
"If you think I'm going to let you handle this alone, you're crazy."
Erin was touched, and a part of her—the cowardly part— very much wanted his help and support. Still, she couldn't in good conscience involve him, especially since he claimed to have no personal relationship with Elise. "Oh, Max, that's very sweet of you. But, really, there's no reason for you to get involved in this."
Max raised his hand and cupped her cheek. Warm and caressing, his gaze moved over her face, lingering a moment on her lips before returning to delve deeply into her eyes. Holding her gaze, he touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb and smiled a crooked little smile. "Oh, yes, " he said in a strange, soft voice. "I'm afraid there is."
The sharp surge of excitement caught her off guard.
One moment they had been arguing, and the next, without warning, the air was charged with electricity, a taut, quivering awareness that pulsed between them and made every nerve ending in her body stand at attention.
His nearness, the warmth in his gaze, the husky timbre of his voice, all had a devastating effect on Erin. Her heart beat faster; her chest tightened. She was acutely conscious of the light touch of his hand against her cheek. Beneath it, her skin grew flushed as a tingling heat radiated outward from each tiny point of contact.
Her breathing was suddenly shallow, almost painful, and as she gazed at him in the shadowy dimness, she felt an insane desire to turn her face into his palm and kiss it, to run her tongue over that ridged, sensitive flesh and taste him.
The thought shocked her, and she swallowed hard, thrusting it away. The attraction was strong—she felt it humming between them—but she knew that she couldn't, she mustn't give in to it. No matter what Max's feelings were, Elise was in love with him. She had to remember that.
Erin edged back just enough to pull free of his hand. "Well, since you insist, I have to admit that I'm grateful for your help," she said, striving to keep her voice polite and friendly, unaffected. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure whereto start."
Max allowed the retreat, but the look in his eyes promised that the matter was far from forgotten.
He settled back against the door, drummed his fingers on the seat and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That would depend on whether or not you think she left town."
"I'm almost certain she did," Erin replied, relieved that the moment of sensual tension had passed. "Elise avoids stress or trouble of any kind. Something like this would send her—or anyone, for that matter—running, just as hard and as fast as she could go."
"Well, at least she didn't take her car. That was a smart move, and it shows she's not so panicked that she can't think straight. If someone on the police force is involved, it would be a simple matter to run a check on it. She'd probably have been picked up before she made the city limits."
Erin shivered, recalling the trouble she had attracted by using Elise's car.
Determinedly, she pushed the chilling memory aside and forced herself to think. "Which means she must have left by bus. Even if she managed to get on a flight, she would have taken a bus to the Albuquerque airport."
"Not necessarily. She could have taken a taxi or rented a car, or had a friend drive her." Max shrugged. "She may have even hitchhiked, for all we know."
Erin gave a startled little laugh. Then, realizing he wasn't kidding, she cocked her head to one side and studied him curiously. "You really don't know Elise very well, do you?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you all evening."
"Yes, well, believe me, it would never occur to my sister to stand by the side of the road with her thumb out, not even in a dire situation like this one."
Max grinned, his teeth a flash of white in the dimness. "No, that'd be more your style."
"That's right," Erin replied with a wry grimace. "If someone were after me, I'd light out of here any way I could."
"Then let me remind you that, indirectly, someone is after you. With that face, you're in just as much jeopardy as Elise."
Erin drew in her breath and clamped down on the spasm of fear that rippled through her. She could sense a lecture coming and was determined to dodge it. "All the more reason to hurry," she said briskly. "The sooner we discover where Elise went, the sooner I can get out of here. I think we should start at the bus station. I have a hunch she would have felt safer traveling in a group of people rather than being by herself in a rented car."
. Max fixed her with a hard look. She could feel his anger and exasperation simmering just below the surface, and she braced herself for an argument, but after a moment he heaved a sigh and straightened in the seat. "God, you're a stubborn woman," he muttered as he flicked on the headlights and put the car in gear.
She chose to ignore the remark, and after a moment Max said, "You do realize, don't you, that this will probably be a wild-goose chase. She could have caught a bus for the airport at any of a dozen or so hotels."
"Yes, I know. But we've got to start somewhere. If we don't have any luck at the bus station, then we'll try the airlines."
"Okay. Whatever you say. Just don't get your hopes up."
Falling silent, Erin turned her head and looked out the window. Hope was all she had at the moment. Since she'd arrived in Santa Fe her concern had grown steadily into worry with the passing hours. Now, knowing that someone out there was intent on harming her sister, that worry had burgeoned into outright fear. Without hope, it would overwhelm her.
A car darted in front of the Continental. Max cursed and slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward against their seat belts. Erin looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring straight ahead, intent on negotiating the narrow congested streets, but as Erin studied the grim set of his profile she felt a fresh rush of guilt.
She knew that Max was concerned for her safety and still not convinced that they were doing the right thing. She felt guilty for having involved him. It wasn't his problem.
But even more, she felt guilty for being attracted to the man her sister loved, guilty for the way she responded to him, for the feelings she couldn't seem to control. For those reasons alone she should have refused to let him help her.
It was strange, really, when she thought about it. She and Elise had never been attracted to the same type of man before. Erin smiled to herself as she recalled her brother-in-law's sandy-blond hair and ail-American wholesome looks. Tommy Holman had been an easygoing, loving, uncomplicated man with an endearing boyish charm. Even she, once she had stopped thinking of him as the nerdy boy next door, had realized that he was the perfect mate for Elise. But he'd been a far cry from Max Delany.
Erin had always been the one with a weakness for good-looking devils. The kind with that intriguing air of recklessness about them. Once again, she cut her eyes toward Max. Yes, he was definitely of the breed—a bit wild, a bit dangerous, a man of unbridled masculinity and passions. It was there in the roguish gleam in his eyes, the honeyed, slightly wicked drawl and that devil-may-care smile that played havoc with a woman's breathing and scattered her common sense to the winds.
Andre was such a man, Erin thought with a touch of sadness. Or at least, he had been in the beginning, when love was new. But he had changed, had become more and more conservative. Rigid. Demanding. What he had once found exciting and delightful had become an irritant, an intolerable flaw.
Erin had thought that her marriage and its demise had cured her of her penchant for dashing devils. Even for men in general. Since her divorce she hadn't been in the least attracted to any man... until Max.
And her sister had first claim.
A small, bemused smile tugged at the corners of Erin's mouth as she gazed past her own reflection in the side window at the darkened storefronts flashing by. In all honesty, she wasn't sure whether she should curse the fates or count her blessings.
Max pulled into a parking space by the curb and cut the engine. Erin glanced around and saw that they were stopped in front of a nondescript, darkened building. "Where's the bus station?"
"A couple of blocks down the street. Do you have a picture of Elise with you that I can show to the ticket agent?"
Erin gave him a dry look and reached for the door handle. "I don't need a picture. I've got this," she said, tapping the side of her face with her forefinger.
"You're not going in," Max stated. However, Erin was already climbing from the car, and the words bounced off her back.
"Oh, yes I am."
"Dammit, Erin! Will you— Oh, hell." The damaged door gave a protesting groan as he shouldered it open, and another when he slammed it shut. Max skirted the hood of the car at a lope and caught up with her before she reached the corner.
He stepped in front of her to block her way, but Erin kept going, and he found himself backpedaling as he argued. "Erin, listen to me. It would be better if you stayed out of sight. Can't you see that? What if whoever is looking for Elise is watching the station? Why do you think I parked so faraway?"
"I am not going to sit in a dark car like a frightened little mouse while you do everything, so just forget it, Delany. Besides, I doubt that they would still be watching the station. It's been hours since Elise took off."
Grim-faced, Max accepted defeat. "All right, you win. I just hope you're right," he muttered as he took her arm and fell into step beside her.
Despite her brave words, Erin's stomach muscles tightened as they stepped inside the brightly lit terminal, and when Max slipped a protective arm around her she didn't object. Alert and wary, he held her close against his side, his hard gaze making a continual sweeping search of the waiting room as they made their way to the ticket counter.
At that hour the terminal was not crowded, though it was far from empty, containing the usual assortment of weary travelers and people awaiting arrivals. Some were milling around, but many were reading or attempting to nap, while others passed the time in desultory conversation. A few just sat slumped in their seats, idly watching the ebb and flow of humankind around them.
A piercing wail rose above the low hum of voices. Erin felt Max's body tense as his head snapped around in the direction of the sound, then relax fractionally when he spotted a harried young mother struggling with an infant and two restive older children.
Ragged nerves and apprehension, both her own and Max's, put a fine edge on Erin's sensory perception, making her aware of every minute detail. The click of her heels against the floor, the staleness of the air, the rumble of engines and the hiss of air brakes beyond the glass doors, the ringing of the phones—each sound, each smell, each individual movement around them imprinted itself on her consciousness with sharp clarity.
A Marine, looking serious and young in his spit-and-polish uniform, paced slowly in front of the wall of lockers and glanced at the clock every now and then. In a corner a pair of lovers held hands and stared into each other's eyes, their faces somber and sad. Two elderly ladies sat side by side, nimble fingers working and knitting needles clacking, never missing a stitch as they chattered away. Across the aisle from them a derelict hunched down in his seat, trying to make himself invisible to the policeman standing by the door.
Three yellow Caution signs marked off an area where a custodian was swinging a wet mop across the floor in lazy arcs, and with each swipe the caustic odor of disinfectant rose from the damp surface to mingle with the other smells of cigarette smoke, cold coffee, diesel fuel and human bodies.
There were several ticket agents behind the counter, all of them busy with customers. Max steered Erin toward the shortest line, and while they waited he turned sideways and kept up his cautious surveillance. Finally their turn came, and they stepped forward. At the same time the clerk looked up.
"Good evening. Can I help—" He stopped, his eyes widening when they fixed on Erin. "Well, hello there, young lady," he said in mild surprise. "What are you doing still here? I thought you'd be halfway to San Francisco by now. Don't tell me you missed the bus?"
Erin's heart leaped with excitement, and she glanced at Max hopefully before answering. "No. That is.. .that wasn't me. It was my sister who caught the bus. Which is why we're here." She glanced around, then leaned closer and continued in a lower voice. "You see, it's important that I find her. Very important. Obviously she bought a ticket to San Francisco, but could you please tell me when she left, and what time she will arrive?"
"Well, I don't know. I'm not sure I should give out that kind of information."
Max made an impatient sound and reached for his wallet, but before he could get it out Erin leaned over the counter and placed her hand on the man's arm. "Please. This is a matter of life and death," she said, gazing at him beseechingly. "You have to help us. Please."
The man frowned, hesitating. He looked down at the delicate hand on his arm, then into her eyes, and apparently he read the desperate entreaty in her face. At last, coming to a decision, he glanced at his co-workers on either side and began to flip through the schedule book. "Well, now, let's see. If you were to take the 6:25 a.m. bus, you'd arrive in San Francisco—" he ran his finger down the timetable "—the following morning at 9:20." Keeping his face deadpan, he looked up and gave them a conspiratorial wink. "How's that?"
Erin's answering smile was brilliant. "Fine. Just fine. Thank you very much. You've been most helpful."
Max added his thanks and took Erin's arm. As they were about to leave he turned back to the man. "One more thing. Has anyone else made inquiries about a woman fitting the same description?"
Once again the man glanced at the people on either side of him. "Not that I know of. But then, I just work the night shift. And there are a lot of other ticket agents."
"I see. Thanks."
As they hurried from the terminal Erin could hardly contain her excitement. "Can you believe our luck?" she crowed. "We picked the right agent on the very first try. And he remembered her! Without our even asking!"
"It's that red hair," Max muttered, glancing at the short mop of curls that glittered in the artificial light. "It makes you stand out in a crowd." Plus, a man would have to be half blind or senile to forget a face like that, he added to himself, unreasonably irritated.
He hustled her toward the door so fast that Erin practically had to skip to keep up. Just before they reached it she dug in her heels and hung back.
"Max, wait! I want to use the phone to call the airport. If I can get a flight out right away, I can get to San Francisco in time to meet Elise's bus."
"Not here." Max looked around. His gut had been eating him alive ever since they stepped into the terminal. "C'mon. We'll find someplace less public," he urged, but Erin was already tugging him toward the row of pay phones.
Left with no choice, he stood beside her, facing the waiting room and impatiently tapping his foot as she made the call.
When she hung up the phone she was beaming. "There's a flight to Las Vegas with a connection that will put me in San Francisco hours before the bus arrives. If I leave right now, I'll just be able to make it. As soon as I get my bag out of your car, I'll take a taxi to the Albuquerque airport." She sighed and closed her eyes for an instant. "I can't believe we found her."