Hero in the Nick of Time Page 7

  He fixed her with a long, slow look that went way farther and deeper than he’d anticipated. Something stirred inside him, quickened in his belly, but he ignored it.

  “The thought crossed my mind.” Cade waited for her to get in first, then opened his own door. Getting in, he flipped on the headlights before starting the car. A soft-voiced tenor sang on the radio about the upside of heartache as Cade spared Mac a quick side glance. “You always been this single-minded?”

  Since she had no choice at the moment, Mac sat back in her seat. “Pretty much.”

  It was the only way to get difficult things accomplished. Like becoming a dentist when her father initially had a completely different career picked out for her. He wanted her to be a teacher. A noble vocation, but one she had absolutely no aptitude for. He’d selected it purely because it was a traditional career for a woman, never once asking how she felt about it. But she’d let him know.

  Mac briefly entertained the idea of keeping her own counsel, but she was too agitated to be quiet for more than a few bars of the singer’s song.

  By the time they had left the lot, she launched into an explanation. “The way I figure it, Miss-Upstanding - Looking - Citizen - Slash - Kidnapper has enough of a lead on us already. I don’t intend for her to get in another whole night as well.”

  Stopping at one of the three lights on the road to the John Wayne Airport, Cade looked at her. “Ever occur to you that this woman might sleep and eat like the rest of the world-barring you?”

  If that was a put-down, Mac had heard far better ones aimed at her. She was the first to admit that she knew she rubbed some people the wrong way. But popularity wasn’t her goal here.

  “Then that’ll put me ahead enough to catch up, won’t it?”

  Working his way down the road, Cade didn’t bother commenting on her observation. It would only lead him into an argument, and he was beginning to entertain the healthy suspicion that people didn’t win arguments against McKayla Dellaventura.

  They also, he went on to discover less than ten minutes later, didn’t stand much of a chance when she decided to turn on charm mixed liberally with heavy doses of vulnerability. She did both with aplomb and studied artistry.

  Standing at the U.S. Airlines reservation desk now, Cade placed Randy’s sketch in front of a young clerk.

  “Were you on duty last night?” Mac asked the clerk before Cade could make the inquiry. He was getting more than a little irritated at being constantly usurped this way.

  The man struggled to stifle a yawn as he straightened his jacket. “On duty every night, Tuesday through Saturday.” Fingers poised on the keyboard, he looked from one to the other. “Where to?”

  “Nowhere,” Mac told him. “Just some information.” She pressed on despite the disgruntled look on the clerk’s face. “Did this woman book a flight to Phoenix last night? It’s likely she paid in cash. Possibly traveling under the name of Susan Wiley.” She rattled off all the information she had at her disposal.

  Fully conscious and becoming every inch the company man, the clerk squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give out that sort of information.”

  Here we go again. Mac wasn’t about to be dismissed. Digging into her purse, she continued laying a verbal siege to the clerk’s fortress.

  “She was traveling with a baby. An eighteen-month-old girl. Heather.” Finding it, Mac placed the wallet-size photograph of her niece on top of the sketch. “She looks like this.”

  Curious, the clerk snuck a peek at the photograph, even while pretending not to. “Really, ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t—”

  Mac caught his hand, bringing his attention squarely to her face. “Please,” she begged. “That’s my daughter. She has my daughter.”

  As Cade watched, amazed and with growing admiration, Mac changed from what he was beginning to view as a human steamroller to a woman only the man behind the desk could help.

  “She was kidnapped two days ago. Kidnapped during a traffic accident. The only witness said the kidnapper looked like this.” Mac tapped the sketch intently. “My husband and I have been following the trail all day.” She nodded toward Cade, leaving him temporarily speechless. “Please, you have to help me.” The tears that spilled from her eyes landed on the man’s hand as she grasped it.

  Leery, nervous, moved by her plight and her tears, the clerk looked furtively to either side of him before he began keying something into the computer.

  “I think I saw her,” he allowed uneasily, his voice now low. “Going to Phoenix, you say?”

  “That’s what we think,” Mac said eagerly. Without realizing it, she was now grasping Cade’s hand, squeezing it as hard as she was hopeful. Her eyes never left the clerk.

  Cade had the impression that she had stopped breathing as the man’s fingers flew across the keys. The terminal was far from silent, but all either one of them heard were the clicking keys.

  The clerk finally sighed as he pulled up the right screen. “Here, mother and child. Traveling to Phoenix. One way.” He looked up, somewhat confused. “Says here her name is Lucy Carlyle.”

  That didn’t surprise Cade. It was part of the cover. “Paid cash?”

  A quick check provided the answer. The clerk nodded. “Yes.”

  “That’s the one.” Cocking his head, Cade leaned over the counter, trying to see the screen. “What time was the night?”

  Still trying to maintain some semblance of protocol, the clerk kept the screen facing him. “She took the seven-thirty flight out last night.”

  “Thank you.” A sliver of emotion entered his voice as Cade shook the clerk’s hand. “Very much,” he added.

  “Hey, I hope you find her,” the clerk called after them as they left the counter.

  Looking over her shoulder, Mac flashed a smile in his direction. “Thanks, we will.”

  Cade heard the same fierceness in McKayla’s voice as he had in her sister’s hospital room. He didn’t have to be told that McKayla didn’t intend to give up until she recovered her niece. He was well acquainted with that sort of determination. And knew firsthand about the feeling that went with it.

  A strange tingling sensation was traveling up his arm. His fingers, still captured in hers, he realized, were going numb.

  “Not that I find the contact disturbing, but you can let go of my hand any time you decide you’re up to it.”

  “What?” Mac stared vacantly at him before she realized that she was holding on to him. Embarrassed, she pulled her hand back. “Oh, sorry.”

  He flexed his fingers to get back the circulation. She wasn’t as delicate-looking as her sister, but he hadn’t expected her to have a grip like a vise. Cade nodded back at the clerk. “You played him as if he were a violin and you were a virtuoso. Where did you learn how to act like that?”

  A half smile fluttered over her lips as his question unearthed a memory. “Under fire. Came in handy when my father would catch me sneaking in after curfew when I was a teenager.”

  Cade had a strong feeling that Mac had been more than a handful in those years, seeing as how she was turning out to be one now as well, for a completely different set of reasons. He stood back mentally and did a quick survey of the woman who had bomb-blasted her way into the middle of his life this morning. Beautiful in a natural, earthy sort of way, she exuded confidence in her every move. He found her independence an attractive quality, but not when it was running him over.

  “So, now do you want to call it a night?” Even as he asked the question, he was fairly certain he knew what her answer would be.

  Mac looked at him in surprise. “We’re just getting started.”

  Cade had a feeling that she could fly to Phoenix right now on her own power. But that kind of energy had a habit of petering out at the worst time. “Shouldn’t you call your husband?”

  “Don’t have one.” Digging into her purse, she located her cell phone and pulled it out. “But I should call my brother, let him fill in Moira and my parents
while you book us a flight.” As she began to punch in Danny’s number, Cade took the cell phone from her hand. Stunned, she looked at him. “What?”

  He’d been patient long enough. But like a snowball traveling downhill, she was beginning to pick up speed, not to mention mass. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get plowed under unless he stopped her now.

  Closing the phone, he handed it back to her. “Let’s get a few things straight. If you’re paying me to conduct an investigation, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t keep trying to constantly take control.” He saw anger crease her forehead, but continued talking. The last woman he’d been intimidated by had been Sister Michael. She’d been six feet tall, and he’d been eight years old. “If you want a sidekick, call someone else to join you. There’s no need to pay me for my services, which, by the way, don’t include tagging along.”

  It took her a minute to regroup. “Look, if I’m stepping on your toes or your feelings, I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

  “Feelings have nothing to do with it,” he corrected her. “I understand what you’re going through. I was there myself. Am there myself. But you can’t just leap into this full throttle and keep going. If you don’t refuel, your engine goes dry and you seize up.”

  She took exception to the analogy. “I’m a person, not a race car.”

  His hand remained on her arm, keeping her in place. “Same applies.”

  Mac had a feeling that he’d continue holding her until she gave in. Although she bristled at the idea, she temporarily relented. Blowing out a breath, she looked at him. “So what do you propose?”

  Turning, Cade directed her toward the exit and the parking lot beyond. “We get some food. We look at what we’ve got. Call the detective in charge to find out if he has anything else—”

  If the police had had anything to volunteer, they would have gotten in contact with someone in her family, who would have in turn called her. Her cell phone had remained silent. “But—”

  Undaunted, Cade continued as they left the terminal “—or if we have anything for him. You work a lot better in this field if you don’t butt heads.”

  The look she spared him could have sliced a tree in half. “I’m not interested in remaining in this field. I’m interested in finding my niece.”

  “Speaking of which, when did we become man and wife?”

  “The second it played better that way.” Stopping abruptly, Mac turned to confront him. “Look, I’m sorry I grabbed your hand back there, I’m sorry I stepped on your toes. I—”

  He wasn’t interested in getting or hearing apologies. That wasn’t why he’d brought the matter up to begin with. She was beginning to look as if she were operating on the hairy edge. He didn’t want to see her crash and burn and didn’t have the time to take care of her if she did.

  “How long since you’ve slept or eaten?”

  The question took her aback. Mac dragged a hand through her hair. Maybe she did feel a little punchy, but there would be plenty of time to sleep later, when this was resolved.

  “Since my father called me about Moira.” Because Cade continued looking at her, she tried to pinpoint the time a little better—and failed. “Sometime day before yesterday. Evemng, I guess.” She looked at him. “I can sleep and eat on the plane.”

  “Not in that order,” he said, dismissing her glibly. “I’m serious, McKayla. You want me on the case, you have to take a few orders. That’s probably not anything someone like you is used to, but those are the rules.” Finished, he waited for her answer.

  Nobody called her McKayla except strangers and her parents. It always made Mac feel like squirming. Just like the look in his eyes. Maybe the look in his eyes was a little more lethal, she decided.

  She frowned, then threw up her hands. Like it or not, she needed him. That made him the one to call the shots. “Okay. I’ll eat. Maybe sleep a few minutes if it makes you feel better.” She shook her head, then allowed her expression to soften a little. “You’re not as easygoing as you look.”

  With the reins of the investigation back in his hands, Cade unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her. “I won’t ask if that’s a compliment.” And she wasn’t volunteering an answer, he noticed. Watching her slide in, he shut the door for her. “There’s a restaurant not too far from here,” he informed her as he got in on his side.

  Mac pulled on her seat belt, locking it into place. “Do I have to sit at the table until I clear my plate?”

  He grinned at the implication, starting the car. “We’ll play it by ear.”

  Mac hadn’t realized she was hungry until she bit into the club sandwich. They had stopped at the family-style restaurant she’d pointed out to him just outside the airport. He’d obliged by giving her no argument about the choice. She just wanted to get the so-called feeding over with.

  The stomach she’d been patently ignoring suddenly came to life, growling as the plate was set in front of her. Embarrassed, Mac looked at Cade.

  “Don’t say it,” she warned.

  His face was a mask of innocence. It didn’t fool her for a minute. He was enjoying this. “Say what?”

  “ ‘I told you so.’ ” When he continued looking at her, the soul of innocence, she bit back a flash of temper. Was he baiting her? “Don’t tell me you didn’t hear my stomach just now.”

  “Oakland probably heard your stomach,” Cade commented dryly, watching the waitress set down his plate. He picked up his napkin. He would have chosen something fancier, something more in keeping with the woman he was with. But he knew the food here was good. All that mattered was getting something edible down. “But I never say ‘I told you so.’ You lose friends that way.”

  Mac doubted that he thought of her in that category. “How about clients?”

  He took a sip of the soda he’d ordered before answering. “Hopefully, they only remain clients for a short amount of time before the case is resolved.” He smiled at her. “In either case, I still don’t like rubbing people’s noses in their mistakes. That’s not my idea of fun.”

  She had no idea why she wanted to ask him what was. But she shut the question away before it had a chance to advance to her tongue.

  “That would make you an exceptional man, Cade.” A very exceptional man, she caught herself thinking. Mac took another bite, nearly finishing her sandwich. “So, if I’m a very good girl and finish every last bit of my meal, then can we book the flight to Phoenix?”

  Cade still thought it might be a better idea to fly out in the morning. He thought it was an even better idea if he could convince her to remain behind, but he knew he had as much chance of that as he did of stemming the tide during a hurricane. “There’s someone I need to call first.”

  “The detective on the case?”

  He shook his head. “You’re only half right. I’m calling a detective I know. Kane Madigan. He has connections with the Phoenix police department. It never hurts to touch base with the police, especially in kidnapping cases.”

  Mac nodded. He was making sense. She supposed that she might be getting on his nerves, pushing the way she was. She briefly entertained the idea of apologizing to him, then let it go. He’d said he understood how she felt. That was enough. Apologies weren’t easy for her.

  She stared down into her soda, watching the last of the ice melt away in the glass. There was no explanation for why she felt this wave of loneliness overtake her. Mac looked up and saw that he was studying her.

  “Do you think we’ll find her? Your gut feeling,” she added before he had a chance to reply.

  She wasn’t asking for his gut reaction, Cade thought. She was asking him to say yes. It was little enough he could do. “If we keep on going the way we have been, then yes, I think we’ll find her.”

  “If?”

  He wouldn’t have been Cade if he wasn’t somewhat honest with her. “There’s always a chance we won’t.” He brushed that thought aside. “Right now, what I’m thinking is that this operation feels slick.”
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  “Slick?”

  “Well-thought-out,” he elaborated. Cade drained the rest of his drink, then set it on the edge of the table. “The running-off the-road failed,” he pointed out, “so there was a contingency plan that went into effect almost immediately.”

  “If it was such a good plan, why did she need to call a cab? Why not just go off in her car?”

  There was that, and it had bothered him somewhat. He shrugged. “Maybe car trouble. Maybe she felt she was being watched. Or maybe the car’s a rental and she had to act fast. She doesn’t care about the car, but she does about the baby.”

  “Heather.” Mac didn’t like the idea of Heather losing her identity and becoming just “the baby.” There was something almost demoralizing about thinking of her in those terms.

  Cade understood. “Heather,” he corrected himself. “Something tells me that we’re not dealing with a single kidnapping, but just one in a series of kidnappings.”

  Mac felt a cold chill shimmy up her spine. It surprised her that in the next moment, she found herself wanting him to put his arm around her to chase it away.

  Chapter 6

  “Phoenix?”

  The single-word question followed her father’s long pause on the other end of the line. Having finished with the meal Cade had insisted she eat, Mac had gone to the public telephones located between the restaurant’s two rest rooms to call her family.

  “That’s where the trail seems to lead.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  With an inner sigh, Mac leaned against the wall and tried, for the most part, to avoid Cade’s eyes.

  Why did they have to be so dark, like a fathomless ocean at night? It was hard enough, holding her own against her father, when she was focused.

  Holding the receiver in both hands, she tried to concentrate. “Sure that it leads to Phoenix? Yes. For now,” she amended, not wanting to give her father anything to take her to task for later. “Maybe it goes farther, I don’t know.” She knew without asking what was on her father’s mind. He wanted to be sure she didn’t fail him. Not that she ever had, but he was the type who always anticipated the worst in every situation. “But don’t worry, wherever it goes, I intend to follow it. So tell Moira and Mom not to worry. I’ll bring Heather back with me.” Or I’m not coming back, she added silently.