Midnight Heat Page 12

  “Colbourne here. Get Eliot on the line.”

  Almost a minute passed during which every worst-case scenario Dane could think of raced through his mind.

  “Eliot here.” He sounded somewhat out of breath. “Hey, man, I got the one piece out, the other one is gone.”

  “Did Forster say anything?”

  “That’s why I called. He didn’t come. He sent an aide.”

  “Who? What was his name?”

  “It was a woman.”

  Dane gripped the phone tightly. “Average height, brown hair, very short, midforties?” he asked, repeating the description Adria had given him.

  “Yeah, that’s her. She flashed her ID. Said her name was Mary Ellis. I think I saw her out at Indian Head. You know her?”

  “Not as well as I’m going to,” Dane muttered under his breath. To Eliot, he said, “Yeah, I think so. I appreciate your keeping me up to date.”

  “One more thing. I asked where Forster was and she said something about him meeting out at the FAA building with the media.”

  Dane tensed. “Thanks. Let me know when you hear from metallurgy.”

  “Will do.”

  Dane hung up and scanned the lobby. He hated feeling hunted, and didn’t appreciate the irony of the Predator’s role being reversed.

  He had to get in touch with Jarrett. He had to talk to Adria, let her know they were getting closer. Let her know he loved her. At the very least he had to tell her there was finally evidence that could prove the existence of the third plane. If Forster didn’t destroy it first.

  And Forster was talking to the media.

  Not without me, Dane thought. He now had enough to convince Forster into giving him more time. And he could think of no better place to do the convincing than in front of the media.

  He headed out to his car. There was no time to call Adria. But that was okay. He’d have more to tell her after he’d had his little chat with the old colonel.

  By then, this whole thing might just be over.

  ELEVEN

  Adria slipped into the bathroom, intent on a long soak in the tub. Rae was out in her shop, crafting another one of her intriguing metal-and-gem creations, and Jarrett had gone on a hike with Wolfman, the couple’s adorable husky puppy. If you could call almost forty pounds of barely contained exuberance a puppy.

  Adria’s hosts made an interesting couple. Rae was friendly and very direct. Jarrett was as intense as Dane, very enigmatic, cordial, but not overt like Zach. Heat almost bounced off the walls whenever Rae and Jarrett got within two feet of each other, underscoring how deeply Dane’s absence was affecting Adria.

  She switched on the small radio on the shelf above the commode, then flipped through the stack of magazines next to the radio, needing something—anything—to take her mind off Dane and how he was faring in her case.

  Under the top magazine, she found a pamphlet on baby names. No one had told Adria a baby was on the way. She thought about the baggy sweats and big T-shirt Rae wore. “Could be,” she murmured.

  Pamphlet in hand, she stepped into the tub and sank into the warm water. She leafed through the pages, half musing if she’d find any names underlined and, if so, what they’d be. Somehow she ended up picking out names she liked. Would Dane like them or hate them? Startled, she almost dropped the book. Baby names? “A bit premature, don’t you think?” she asked herself. But as she gently tossed the book on the floor, she found her gaze slipping down to her stomach. She gave in to the urge and let her hand smooth over the area beneath her belly button, wondering what it would feel like to have a child inside of her. Dane’s child.

  It seemed so right. In fact, she’d admit the whole thing made her feel like grinning madly and hugging herself.

  She’d fallen in love with Dane Colbourne.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, opened them, then gave in to the satisfied grin. Yep. There was no denying it. Dane was compulsive, able to focus on things to the exclusion of the rest of the world, intent, always right—or thought he was—all the things she’d never look for in a man. Yet she loved them all. Just as she loved the way he turned that focus on her, the way his eyes would lose their remote expression when he looked at her, the way they’d heat up and flash like heat lightning when he was making love to her, or when he just wanted to make love to her.…

  When this whole thing was over, she decided, come hell or high water, she was taking that man away someplace where they could be all alone, to do whatever they wanted. For as long as it took.

  Dear Lord, what was she setting herself up for? But it wasn’t as if she had a choice. She fought for what she wanted now. And she wanted Dane Colbourne. “Please want me back,” she whispered.

  “And now for some late-breaking news.”

  Mired in her thoughts, Adria barely heard the announcer on the radio.

  “Retired Colonel Roy Forster of the National Safety Transportation Board made an announcement today in front of the FAA building that the report on the incident that occurred over Metropolitan Airport several weeks ago, where an AirWest and a Liberty plane clipped wings, has been completed.”

  Adria sat up so fast water splashed over the edge of the tub and soaked the floor.

  Forster’s voice filled the small room. “It appears that the probable cause in this incident is not instrumental or mechanical, but human error on the part of the air-traffic controller on duty that night. Our recommendations are now in the hands of the FAA, who will make the final judgment on this. The controller in question, Ms. Adria Burke, has been suspended from duty since the night of the collision.”

  Oh no. Adria clambered out of the tub. What happened? Dane, I have to contact Dane. She struggled to shut out the voices shouting in her head and listen to the rest of the report.

  “I would like to commend our lead investigator in this case, Mr. Dane Colbourne, for his quick, thorough work. Without dedication and commitment like his, this case could have dragged on for months. It was a clear-cut situation almost from the first, but he took the time to look into every aspect of the incident.”

  The newscaster broke back in. “The investigator Mr. Forster referred to, Dane Colbourne, made an appearance toward the end of the announcement, but didn’t make any comments of his own.”

  It was a good thing the toilet was behind her. She had to sit down.

  The newscaster went on to other news, but Adria barely heard it. Her mind screamed with suspicions and doubts while her heart cried no, it couldn’t be. Dane wouldn’t have manipulated her.

  He’d believed in her.

  He kept you from interfering in his report.

  No! He’d made love to her. Revealed things about himself to her, shared more than his body with her …

  He could have been behind the calls all along. He kept you away from the media, away from anyone who might have really helped you.

  She couldn’t have been fooled by him this badly.

  But he’d stood there and watched Forster present the report. His report. Publicly condemning you. With you conveniently hours away, where you could do nothing.

  Her heart’s cries were slowly extinguished by the greater, more insidious force of doubt. What more proof did she need?

  The Predator.

  She quickly yanked on her clothes, and walked into the kitchen. She lifted the phone, dialed directory assistance. “I want the number for the Washington Post please, Metro Section.”

  When she reached the Post, she said, “Sarah Greene, please.”

  “What in the hell do you mean she’s not there?” He tightened his grip on the phone against the overpowering need to send it straight into the nearest wall. “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know,” Jarrett responded. “I took Wolfman out, then stopped in Rae’s shop on my way back to the house.”

  “How did she get off the mountain?”

  “She took Rae’s Jeep.”

  “She what?” Why would she do something like that? Then a sickening thought occurre
d to him. No, she couldn’t have heard.… Oh God.

  “Dane, listen, I’m—”

  “Was the television on when you came back in? Or the radio? Anywhere she might have heard the news?”

  “Yeah, in the bathroom. I searched the house immediately when I saw Rae’s truck gone. She took a bath or something just before she left. The radio was still on in the bathroom.”

  Dane swore. She’d heard Forster’s little surprise speech. And Dane knew just how damning that must have sounded. She’d moved fast; the broadcast had been less than an hour before. And it had been a very eventful hour.

  “Tell me where you want me and I’m there,” Jarrett said.

  “No, thanks. You did more than enough. It’s not your fault.” Dane paused, half-afraid to ask the next question, but knowing he had to. “Did she leave any kind of message?”

  “Not intentionally. But she did use the phone and scribble the number on the pad next to it. I found it in the trash.”

  “Who does it connect to?” he asked.

  “The Washington Post.”

  It was worse than Dane had thought. She hadn’t even been willing to talk to him first. If Adria got to the press before he got to her, everything he’d spent the last hour achieving would go straight to hell. And Adria would be in more than a little danger.

  “Connect with Beaudine for me. Tell her I’ve got it under control and don’t need her to keep looking. Thank her for me. I’ll explain it all to both of you later.” Right now he had to figure out how to play the situation with Adria.

  “Sure thing. Is there anything else I can do?”

  That’s when Dane realized exactly what he was going to do. “You still got that Post number handy?”

  TWELVE

  Adria pushed the truck to the limit. “Why in the hell does Jarrett have to live so far out in the boonies?” she grumbled for the millionth time since leaving the mountain cabin.

  Hurt and betrayal began to creep in on the anger again. The tears she refused to shed stung her eyes.

  “Damn him,” she whispered raggedly. She was such an idiot! She’d been lying there in the tub, fantasizing about having his baby. God, how humiliating. She sniffed and frowned hard, trying to stop the renewed threat of tears.

  A car pulled out from a side road and zoomed in right behind her, almost on her bumper. She hit an open stretch of remote country highway and slowed down a bit, hoping the jerk would pass her. He didn’t. He got alongside of her and hung there. She slowed down some more, but he also slowed. Irritated, she tried to see into the small gray sedan. “What the hell—”

  Dane.

  Instead of lifting her foot off the pedal, she floored it. They were coming to another incline, but Dane didn’t back off or pass her. He stayed right beside her.

  A truck was coming toward them, barreling down the incline. Directly toward Dane. The truck was applying its brakes; she could see the smoke from the tires. The driver was blowing his horn.

  Adria had no idea what sort of game Dane was playing now, but she wasn’t going to be a party to it. The solution was simple. She pulled off the road, slamming to a complete stop.

  Dane immediately pulled into her lane, then swerved to a halt off the road fifty yards in front of her. The trucker barreled by, blaring his horn and giving Dane the finger.

  Adria was breathing hard, but thinking very clearly. Perhaps more clearly than she had since she’d heard Forster’s statement.

  She looked up and saw Dane fling open his car door, climb out, and begin stalking back toward her. Adrenaline was drilling through her veins and she relished the feeling. It gave her the strength to do what had to be done. If Dane Colbourne wanted a showdown, she’d give him one he’d never forget.

  With deliberate calm, she opened the truck door and slid her feet to the gravel-strewn roadside. She closed the door, leaned against it, casually crossing one foot over the other.

  As Dane closed the distance between them with long, ground-chewing steps, she realized two things. He was furious.

  And he’d finally lost his inimitable control.

  It should have scared her. It didn’t. It thrilled her, excited her. Made her feel more alive, more a participant in life, than she’d ever felt.

  She’d planned to let him get about ten feet away before speaking, but her nerves were badly frayed and it took her a few seconds to make certain her voice would be level and emotionless when she spoke.

  He was within touching distance now, and when she looked straight into his eyes, what she found there wasn’t unmitigated fury. No, the green-and-gold eyes were filled with hurt.

  How dare he hurt, she thought furiously, more than a bit confused. I’m the one who got hurt here. But her knees began to shake.

  He stopped less than a foot away from her, breathing hard. His hair was windblown, his jaw unshaven. His tie was gone and his jacket forgotten. His sleeves were rolled up and the collar wilted.

  Where was the Predator, the man who had coldheartedly manipulated her? This Dane Colbourne looked fierce and vulnerable, fatigued and energized.

  Her fingers dug into her palm, the pain there a welcome diversion from the pain in her heart. She’d had no idea of how ripped up she’d feel upon seeing him again.

  “I loved you.” She flung it between them as an accusation.

  “You sure as hell have an odd way of showing it.”

  “I heard your press conference,” she said. “Congratulations on filing your report on time. Guess the system always wins.”

  He said nothing. Simply stared at her for a long, very uncomfortable while. Adria spent her last bit of control facing him directly, letting him see that she would not be broken, not be devastated by what he’d done to her.

  But when the last bit of energy drained from her, leaving her hollow and empty, he still stared at her, relentlessly holding her gaze, daring her to look away.

  Daring her to let him see her truth.

  As he was letting her see his.

  But his truth confused her. His hurt, his anger.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” she demanded. “That you could just keep me tucked away until it was all over? Did you really expect me to take this lying down?”

  “Get in the car,” he ordered. The mask was firmly back in place. It shone in his eyes, in his face, in his posture.

  “Why should I? I can’t just—”

  “You’ve proven quite effectively you ‘can just’ whenever you see fit. Now it’s my turn.” He turned and walked away. Knowing she’d follow.

  Only when they were back on the road did she attempt to speak. “Am I allowed to ask where we’re going?”

  “You have an appointment to keep,” he answered.

  She didn’t waste time questioning how he’d found out. “It won’t do you any good to try to stop me,” she announced.

  “I have no intentions of stopping you.”

  “I’ve already told her about the third plane,” she lied.

  “I know exactly what you told Ms. Greene. I spoke to her shortly after you did.”

  Was he being honest? She couldn’t tell a damn thing from his blank expression. “Then why take me to her? I’m certain the last thing you want right now is for me to discuss my theory about that third plane.”

  He suddenly swerved the car off the road and shut the engine off. He turned to her, his face no longer expressionless, the intensity of emotion in his voice unparalleled. “You don’t have any idea about what I want.”

  Startled, she spoke without thinking. “Until a few hours ago I thought you wanted me.”

  For a split second his eyes looked bleak. “So did I,” he said. Then he did something totally unexpected. He turned away from her. He sat there, silent, staring through the windshield to the empty roadway ahead.

  Adria couldn’t recall a single time when Dane hadn’t faced her down, no matter the circumstance—or consequence. He might hide behind his emotionless mask, but he never hid completely.


  And then the truth struck her. His emotionless mask hadn’t been a mask at all. He’d actually closed down, locked away all his feelings, relying only on sharp instinct and dogged determination to deal with life. Which in his case was his career. A career that revolved around finding out why planes collided, crashed, or blew up. Usually, if not always, taking innocent lives with them.

  How could anybody cope with such violence? Exactly as Dane had. By shutting down.

  Shame and embarrassment flooded Adria. For her, he’d let down his walls, compromised his integrity, and put his faith in her when every piece of evidence pointed otherwise.

  And how had she repaid him?

  Shaking, she reached out, knowing he was well within his rights to pull away from her touch. She covered the hand tightly gripping the steering wheel with her own. He didn’t flinch.

  Somehow that was worse. As if she didn’t matter at all.

  “Dane, please look at me.” When he made no move other than to tighten his jaw, she took a breath and added, “I need to say some things to you and I think it serves me right to have to look you in the eyes when I say them.”

  He released the steering wheel and slid his hand from under hers. But she persisted.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I know I hurt you. Please let me apologize. Whatever you want to do after that is up to you.”

  He turned to face her. She’d expected his shields to be up and doubled in strength. Instead she found him open, all the way to his soul. No protection. His pain, his anger, his dashed hopes—all were laid bare for her to see. The enormity of what he had given her—of what she’d so hastily tossed back in his face—hit her with a force that literally shook her.

  “Dear God,” she whispered. “What have I done?” Eyes burning, voice shaking, she lifted a badly trembling hand toward him, but couldn’t quite touch him. She wondered if she’d ever truly touch him again. “I was so busy protecting myself,” she began hoarsely. “So busy making sure no one ever took advantage of me again. No,” she said, ruthlessly digging deeper. “That’s not really true. I was trying to make sure I didn’t allow anyone to take advantage of me. And then the incident happened.” She let her hand drop lifelessly to the seat between them, then slowly curled it into a fist. “I was scared. Scared that I’d lose the one thing I had control over—my career. I had made the mistake of thinking that control extended to my whole life.” She laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “Then you came along. I got to know you, to want you—” She took a shaky breath when heat flared in his eyes, almost, but not quite, vanquishing the bleakness and anger. Still, it gave her strength to go on. “And I realized I was fooling myself. I had no life. Just a career.”