Interrogating the Bride

Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Tabla of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Copyright

About the Author

CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. she’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Chapter One

In and out, he told himself. That was his job. Get in, get what he was after, then get out before there were any problems.

Micah Stone stood on the deck of the small ferry that would carry him to the tiny island of Fortuna just off the coast of Louisiana. The island, touted as a playground for the rich, was lit like a gaudy Christmas tree rising up from the sea.

This was the last ferry of the night, carrying wealthy tourists from the Louisiana coast to the island that had been transformed by a smart businessman into a semi-private escape for the wealthy and bored. The ferry would begin running again at eight in the morning, but by then Micah would be long gone.

Despite the warm July night air, a faint mist cooled his face and forearms as he leaned on the deck railing and mentally prepared for the job ahead.

As an ex-Navy SEAL he knew all about mentally preparing for an assignment. He drew a deep breath, centered himself and envisioned success. If all went well, within an hour he’d be in a small Cessna 192 plane on his way back to Kansas City.

His partners Troy and Luke would be happy. The bank would be happy. The only unhappy person in the mix would be Jason Worthington, who had managed to get the plane on credit with the power of his family name, and then neglected to make a single payment. The young man refused to take phone calls from the bank about the payments and ignored the letters sent to him.

Loser, Micah thought. It hadn’t taken much research to learn that Jason Worthington was a trustfund brat with few morals and no direction. The bank that had financed the plane had been patient, not wanting to stir the ire of Jason’s father, Grant Worthington, a mover and shaker in the Kansas City area. But after almost a year of no payments and no excuses from the young man, the bank had hired Recovery Inc., the business run by Micah and two of his best friends and ex-Navy SEAL buddies.

That morning the men of Recovery Inc. had gotten word that three days ago Jason and his personal pilot had flown from Jason’s home in Kansas City to the island of Fortuna for a weeklong visit. The plane now sat on a private runway outside the private residence owned by Jason’s grandfather, but if Micah had anything to do with it, the plane wouldn’t be there for long.

“Looks like Las Vegas,” a female voice said from just behind him. “All the sparkle and glitter out there.”

He turned to see a tall, attractive redhead eyeing him with a predator’s gaze. He fought a sigh of irritation. He’d come up here on deck to be alone, hoping that nobody would notice him, nobody would be able to identify him if things went bad.

“Yeah,” he replied and turned back to face the glittering island, hoping to discourage her from any further conversation.

She sidled up next to him at the railing, engulfing him in the scent of expensive perfume, and placed her hand far too close to his on the railing. A cocktail ring the size of an orange rode one of her fingers. “Staying at one of the hotels?” she asked with a distinctly seductive tone in her voice.

“No,” he replied, not giving her any more information.

“I’m staying at The Fountains,” she replied, obviously not put off by his disinterest. “My name’s Miranda Killory. Just give me a ring if you feel like a party.” She smiled and slid her gaze from the top of his head to his feet. “I’m always ready for a party.”

Thankfully she drifted away when Micah remained silent. It wasn’t the first time an attractive woman had come on to him, but it was definitely one of the most inconvenient.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the ferry approached the dock. He had all that he’d need for the recovery of the plane on his person…. his gun and a flashlight. The rest of what he needed was in his head.

He’d memorized the terrain of the island and had plenty of experience in covert operations. He anticipated no trouble as he knew how to get in and out of a situation like a shadow in the night.

Once the ferry had docked, Micah slipped off and disappeared into the thick brush that hugged the bank. According to the maps of the area he’d studied, the Worthington estate was less than three miles away, an easy jaunt for a man in his physical prime.

He took off at a fast pace, the air filled with the noise of the nearby resort and the tangy scent of the sea. Music poured from open doors and the sounds of people rode the faint light breeze.

Micah stayed near the shoreline and moved with the stealth of an animal, creeping forward to where his sources told him the private runway existed at the back of the Worthington estate.

It never failed to amaze him how many wealthy people didn’t pay their bills. Recovery Inc. didn’t go after the little fellows who got strapped for cash and didn’t make a couple of car payments. They were in the big league, repossessing boats and planes and occasionally people who found themselves in trouble.

He shoved all thought of the business aside as he approached the Worthington estate. Despite the fact that it was after midnight, lights shone from the windows of the two-story mansion.

Micah skirted the house and headed for the back where he hoped his sources were right and the Cessna would be sitting on the runway. He didn’t expect a guard, but if there was one, Micah knew a dozen ways to incapacitate a man without killing him.

As the runway came into view, a sliver of moonlight danced on the wings of the small plane. Bingo, Micah thought with a sigh of satisfaction.

He crouched down in a stand of brush to one side of the runway and waited. He remained there for just a few minutes to make sure there were no guards, no patrols of any kind for him to encounter.

He never went into an assignment without planning for every contingency. If things went badly he knew not to expect help from any law enforcement agency. At best, the relationship between the men of Recovery Inc. and the local police force was one of strained tolerance. He had a feeling the authorities on Fortuna wouldn’t look kindly on him either.

After a few minutes had passed, he was certain that the plane was unguarded, ripe for the picking. Piece of cake, Micah thought as he moved forward.

He’d worn black clothes that would allow him to blend in with the night and he moved across the tarmac at warp speed.

Jason Worthington was so arrogant, so certain he was above the rules that guided ordinary human beings, he not only hadn’t posted guards but he also hadn’t bothered to secure the plane.

Micah opened the door and climbed into the pilot’s seat, pleased that it looked as if he were home free. Within three or so hours of flying, he’d have this little baby back in Kansas City in a hangar owned by Recovery Inc., ready to go back to the bank it now belonged to.

The most dangerous moment would be when he started the engine and prepared for takeoff. If there were guards in the area then the noise of the engine would alert them that something was amiss.

Hopefully he could get in the air before anyone got hurt or an alarm sounded. That was the way these operations were supposed to happen.

It took him only minutes to check that the plane was ready for flight. There was enough gas in the tank to get him back home and he was ready to get out of Dodge.

Troy and Luke would be pleased that the mission went without a hitch and Micah would be home in plenty of time to rest up for his date the next night with a statuesque blonde named Heidi. She was the only woman he knew who wanted a committed relationship less than he did.

He revved up the engines and took off, the euphoric pleasure of flight pulling a smile to his lips. But the smile froze as something poked him in the back, and he felt the warm breath of another person on the nape of his neck.

“I don’t know who you are or why you’re flying this plane, but if you don’t take me back to Kansas City I’ll shoot you.”

Micah shot a quick glance over his shoulder and fought his surprise. He’d planned for every contingency except the one in which a beautiful, dark-haired woman in a bridal gown held a gun to his back.

“That’s exactly where I’m heading,” he replied evenly. “Why don’t you put that gun away before it accidentally goes off and somebody gets hurt?”

The pressure in the center of his back didn’t move. “Who are you?” she demanded. “What are you doing here? Do you work for Jason?”

“My name isn’t important and no, I don’t work for Jason.”

“Then, what are you doing in his plane?” She had a nice voice, low and melodic. And despite the fact that she held a gun to his back, Micah felt no fear. If her intention had been to shoot him, she would have already pulled the trigger. She wouldn’t have waited until they were up in the air. Unless she was a skilled pilot, she wouldn’t shoot the man behind the controls.

“I work for an agency that recovers items when they haven’t been paid for,” he replied.

There was a long pause and the “barrel” of the gun bent slightly, letting him know it wasn’t a gun at all. “Oh my God, I’ve been rescued by a repo man,” she exclaimed just before he banked the plane sharply to the left.

CAYLEE WARREN cried out as the plane tilted and she was thrown across the small cabin into the wall on the opposite side.

She fell to the floor and then fought her long, frilly lace dress as she tried to sit up. “What did you do that for?” she complained as she finally righted herself.

“Because I don’t like backseat drivers who poke a finger in my back,” he replied.

She frowned in dismay. So, he knew it wasn’t a gun but rather her finger that she’d used on him. But when he snuck into the plane and prepared to take off and she realized it wasn’t Jason’s regular pilot, she’d been terrified. It was a state of mind she’d experienced for the past three days.

Once she was on her feet, she scooted into the copilot’s seat and looked at the man who, at the moment, controlled her life. “Okay, I don’t have a gun,” she confessed. “Are you really flying to Kansas City?”

She stared at him. His curly black hair did little to soften his lean, dangerous features and she hoped and prayed she hadn’t jumped from a frying pan into a roaring fire.

All she wanted to do was get back to her little apartment in Kansas City. She’d never go off on a trip with a man again unless they were married. In fact, she might never date again, she had so badly misjudged Jason Worthington.

“I’m really flying back to Kansas City,” he replied. He turned his head and looked at her for the first time. His eyes were a startling pale blue and narrowed in cool unfriendliness. “Now you want to tell me who you are and why you were hiding out in the plane? And I’m not even going to ask why you’re wearing a wedding gown.”

A flush rose to her cheeks. “My name is Caylee Warren. Three days ago I flew down here with Jason to be his guest for a weeklong vacation.”

“So how did you get into the back of the plane?”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” she replied. The last thing she wanted was to tell anyone how foolish she’d been. And God, she’d been foolish going off with a man she barely knew.

“Did you marry him or were you playing some kind of fantasy game? You know, doctor and nurse, cheerleader and quarterback, bride and groom.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, once again a flare of heat warming her cheeks.

“Hey, I’m not the one dressed like a wedding cake topper and hiding in the back of a plane,” he replied.

“No, you would be the one stealing a plane,” she retorted.

“Not stealing, recovering,” he replied. “And if you’re going to sit there, buckle in.” It was a command rather than a request.

She did as he said, buckling the seatbelt around her. “I told you my name, now why don’t you tell me yours.”

“Micah Stone.”

Micah Stone. She rolled the name around in her head. It suited him. Hard and solid.

It had taken them a little over three hours to fly from Kansas City to the small island of Fortuna, so she was stuck with Mr. Micah Stone for at least the next couple of hours.

She stared out the plane window where the darkness was profound. It was impossible to see landmarks or anything of interest. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself into such a mess. She’d acted uncharacteristically impulsive with crushing results.

Micah was obviously a man who didn’t care much for conversation. The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable, until finally she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“This is what you do for a living? Take back things from unsuspecting saps who haven’t paid their bills?”

“Jason Worthington isn’t exactly an unsuspecting sap,” he replied. “He’s worth a fortune, but he’s not above the law that governs normal people. If you don’t pay your bills you lose your toys.”

“Jason Worthington is a psychotic creep,” she blurted out and then bit her lower lip to stop herself from saying anything more.

Micah cast her a glance that told her he thought it was possible she was one of the toys Jason had bought and paid for. She stiffened her back, deciding she didn’t much like Micah Stone.

What she wanted to do was explain the events that had brought her here, the craziness that had resulted in her hiding in the back of a plane clad in a wedding dress. But Micah Stone deserved no explanation for her behavior.

Once again a tense silence descended between them. She tucked a strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear and cast him a surreptitious look.

He had massive shoulders, and even though he was seated, she could tell his legs were long and lean. Physically he was the type of man who had always made her heart beat just a little faster. But she sensed something dark inside him that told her she didn’t want to get to know him any better than what the circumstances warranted.

But she needed something from him, so when he glanced at her with those cool, pale blue eyes, she offered him a friendly smile. “I was wondering if maybe you could do me a favor when we get back to Kansas City?”

“What’s that?” he asked, although his tone let her know he didn’t particularly like the idea of doing her any favors.

“I don’t know where you’re dropping off this plane, but would it be possible for you to drive me to my apartment on the north side of town? I don’t have my purse with my ID or any money, so taking a cab is out of the question.”

“Before I agree to do anything you have to tell me how you ended up in here—dressed like you are— without your purse or anything else.” Those arctic eyes of his gazed at her curiously.

Caylee frowned. She wanted to tell him again that it was really none of his business, but she also needed a ride home. The last thing she wanted to do was call any of her family members and confess her stupidity to them.

“I met Jason about a month ago at the jewelry store I own, Rings and Things. It’s in the Oakridge Mall. Ever been there?” It was a stupid question. He didn’t look like a man who spent much time in a mall. “Anyway, he seemed charming and bright and when he asked me out, I didn’t see any reason not to go. So we’d been seeing each other for the last month, and then he suggested this trip to Fortuna. He told me his family had a place here and that I’d have my own suite of rooms.”

She realized she was rambling. She always chattered too much when she was nervous and it suddenly struck her that she had no idea what kind of man Micah Stone was, had no idea if she’d escaped from one psycho into the arms of another.

“Go on,” he said curtly.

He didn’t look like a psycho. But then Jason hadn’t looked like one either, and that man was positively certifiable. She sighed, realizing she really didn’t have any other choice but to trust the man in the pilot’s seat.

“Anyway, we got there and things were okay, even though I started noticing things about him that bugged me. By the next day I realized he wasn’t anyone I wanted to be with, but I figured I’d finish the trip and once we got back to Kansas City I wouldn’t date him anymore. Then tonight he brought me this dress and insisted that I try it on. Then he started talking about how we’d be married as soon as possible and he’d never let me leave his side. That was when I knew I had to get out of there.”

She paused a minute, remembering the glint of madness that had shone from Jason’s eyes. She’d never been so afraid in her life.

“Anyway, when I went into the bathroom to change out of this dress, I snuck out the window and ran,” she continued. “I hid in the plane because I overheard Jason telling his pilot to fly back to Kansas City first thing in the morning and pick up some personal items Jason wanted from his house. I figured I could hide out and be back home before Jason realized I was gone from Fortuna.”

She waited for him to say something, to say anything but he remained silent. He probably thought she was all kinds of a fool to go on a weeklong holiday with a man she didn’t know well.

“So, are you going to give me a ride home when we get to town or are you going to force me to call one of my relatives and let them know how utterly stupid I’ve been?” she finally asked.

“I’ll drive you home,” he said and those were the last words he spoke to her for the duration of the flight.

Caylee spent the time staring out at the night sky and wondering how she’d been such a bad judge of character. Jason had seemed so nice, so normal during the six dates they’d had before going to Fortuna.

Of course, she’d been out of the dating game for years before she’d met him. Since taking the helm of the jewelry business five years ago, she’d been focused solely on the shop with no time for socializing.

She glanced back at Micah. God, the man was a hunk. Jason had been handsome in a boyish, charming kind of way, but there was nothing boyish about Micah Stone.

The dark clothes he wore only enhanced an aura of hardness, of danger. He looked like a man who could handle anything life threw at him. But just because she liked the way he looked didn’t mean she’d like him as a man. In fact, she’d only been in his presence a couple of hours, had only exchanged a few sentences with him, but already she had a feeling that she didn’t like him.

But at the moment she needed him. Once he got her safely to her apartment, then she could put him and this entire fiasco behind her.

A sense of relief filled her as the plane descended quickly and she looked down and saw the lights playing on the Missouri River. She assumed he was landing at the downtown airport rather than Kansas City International Airport, which was to the north of the city. The downtown airport with its shorter runways and close proximity to the river better suited small planes for landing and taking off.

They had just touched down and taxied into a hangar when she heard the distinctive ring of a cell phone. Micah cut the plane engine, reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone.

“Yeah. Just landed and hit the hangar,” he said into the phone. He listened for a minute, then cast a narrowed glance toward Caylee. “I picked up a passenger along the way. I’ll explain later.”

He listened some more, and even though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, his features tightened, appeared to grow more lean and dangerous as he stared at her.

“Yes, I understand. Okay. See you in half an hour.” He hung up the phone, his gaze still intent on Caylee. “Jason Worthington was found stabbed to death in his family home on Fortuna Island an hour ago. The police are looking for you for questioning.” Micah’s pale eyes narrowed to slits. “You want to tell me what really happened there tonight or should I just drive you directly to the nearest police station?”

Chapter Two

Micah had to hand it to her, she was either the best actress he’d ever seen or she was genuinely stunned by his words. Her green eyes stared into his as if seeking a punch line to a very bad joke.

“Jason is dead? Murdered?” Her voice was little more than a faint whisper as her face turned as white as the wedding gown she wore. “But that’s impossible. He was fine when I left the house.”

“That was my partner Luke on the phone. The details coming out of Fortuna are sketchy at the moment, but he thinks it’s a good idea if I go underground for a couple of days until we see how this thing shakes down.” She stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “Did you kill him?”

His question obviously cut through the fog that had momentarily gripped her. She straightened her back and lifted her chin, her eyes burning overly bright. “I certainly did not.” She released a small gasp and shook her head so vehemently her long, dark hair flew around her face. “I just wanted to get away from him. I just wanted to go home. I certainly didn’t want him dead.”

He unbuckled his seat belt. “We need to get out of here. Luke left his car for me. I’m supposed to meet him and Troy at a safe house our company owns.”

He opened the plane door but she grabbed him by the arm, her face still a sickly pallor. “But, what about me? What am I supposed to do?”

Micah had no idea if she was guilty as sin or as innocent as she appeared, but he definitely knew the worst place they could be at the moment was in the plane that had disappeared from Jason Worthington’s place on the night he’d been murdered.

“I’m going to meet my partners,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned you have two choices,” he said, a bit reluctantly. “You can either come with me or I can drop you at your apartment where I imagine you’ll be visited by some of the men in blue within the hour.”

She frowned, the gesture tugging her dark, perfectly formed eyebrows closer together on her forehead. “I look really guilty,” she said more to herself than to him. “I snuck out of a window and ran. Whoever killed him probably did it while I was hiding in the plane, which means I have no alibi.” She caught her full bottom lip in her teeth. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Make up your mind quickly because we need to get out of here,” he said tersely.

“Maybe I should come with you until we know more about what happened.”

He could tell it was a decision she didn’t feel comfortable with, but it obviously beat an arrest for murder. “Then let’s do it,” he replied.

He left the plane and waited impatiently for her to climb down from the passenger side, the wedding gown hampering her movements. The gown fit her small-framed body perfectly, hugging her slender waist and accentuating the thrust of her breasts against the lacy material. She would have made a beautiful bride.

He had no idea if she was guilty or not. Her story had been far-fetched, but her shock when he’d told her Jason was dead had looked very real.

When she had her feet on the ground they left the hangar and he closed the door and secured the lock before turning to look toward the nearby parking area. His car was there, but he headed toward Luke’s sleek sports car, which was parked next to it.

Luke had warned him that it was possible the police would be looking for him, too, and that it might be dangerous for him to be in his own car. How on earth had a simple operation gone so wrong?

As he slid behind the steering wheel, Caylee got into the passenger seat, the gown threatening to engulf her in the narrow seat. Beneath the floor mat he found the keys, just where Luke had said they would be.

He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Caylee was silent until they were on the highway heading north of the downtown district.

“My apartment is in this direction. I live in the Rockport Apartments. It’s a nice place, has a great pool and clubhouse, although I almost never use them because I spend such long hours at the store,” she said.

Terrific, not only were things seriously messed up at the moment, he was now trapped in a car with a chatterbox. He cast her a quick glance. She stared out the front window, her pretty features strained as her hands folded and unfolded in her lap.

He could smell the scent of her, a pleasant, slightly exotic fragrance. He hadn’t noticed it in the plane but he noticed it now. He gripped the steering wheel more firmly, realizing his hot date with Heidi was probably off.

“This trip with Jason was the first vacation I’ve taken in five years,” she continued. “I can’t believe he’s dead. Maybe your partner is wrong. Maybe this is all just a terrible mistake.” There was more than a little bit of hope in her voice.

“We’ll know soon enough,” he replied, wishing she’d be quiet for just a minute so he could think. He had a bad feeling in his gut. What should have been a simple mission had suddenly become much more complicated. If Jason Worthington was really dead, then he and Caylee Warren were definitely in trouble.

“Why does your company have a safe house?” she asked.

“Because we occasionally need one.” There was no reason for her to know that there were times when Recovery Inc. worked for the government and needed a place to stash a witness or a person in trouble.

He hoped that within the next hour or two she’d go back to her life and he’d go back to his. He had a workout scheduled at the gym in the morning and he wouldn’t mind keeping his date with Heidi.

But there was no question that he wasn’t feeling good about this whole mess. A lump of uneasiness sat heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He knew without doubt that she was in trouble, but he had a feeling he was deep in the muck as well. He knew there had been surveillance cameras on the ferry and even though he’d tried to stay away from them, he couldn’t be sure how successful he’d been.

There was nothing Chief Wendall Kincaid of the Kansas City Police force would like more than to have a reason to arrest Micah. He’d once slept with the chief’s sister, but had made the mistake of not proposing marriage. God help him from women who had the Wedding March and a biological clock resounding inside them.

He glanced over at Caylee, who appeared to be growing more nervous with each passing mile. She’d stopped folding and unfolding her hands in her lap and now twisted a strand of her hair around one of her fingers.

She sat up straighter in the seat as he turned off the highway and onto a gravel road lined by tall trees.

They had left the city behind and her nervous tension was palpable in the small car as she cast him furtive glances.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not taking you out in the woods to hurt you. The house is an old farmhouse on twenty acres of land.”

“That’s good because I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.” She eyed him with another lift of her chin, then sighed. “I just feel like I’ve had enough weirdness to last me an entire lifetime.”

He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he’d certainly categorize finding a bride hiding in the back of a plane right up there on the weird scale.

He released his own sigh as the farmhouse came into view. Majestic oaks flanked the one-story, three-bedroom house, their thick foliage blocking out the moonlight. Lights blazed from the place, and he saw that Troy’s car was parked in front.

Good. Both his partners were there. Surely this whole mess could be sorted out in a matter of minutes. He parked next to Troy’s car, then doused the lights and unbuckled his seat belt.

Within a couple of hours dawn would break. The long night was beginning to weigh heavy on him. He looked at the woman seated next to him. She really was quite pretty with her heart-shaped face and bright green eyes. But any woman who would buy what Jason Worthington was selling obviously wasn’t too bright or was a gold digger with an eye to the Worthington fortune.

As he got out of the car, she fought the ridiculous dress and managed to escape the confines of the car as well. The night air was just as hot, just as humid here as it had been in Louisiana.

“I’m sure this is all just a terrible mistake of some kind,” she said again, looking up at him as they headed for the front door.

“We’ll know soon enough.” He opened the door and ushered her inside. The large living room was decorated like an impersonal hotel suite. The beige sofa was flanked by glass-topped end tables, a coffee table and a matching overstuffed chair set off to one side. An entertainment center held a television, a DVD player and several dog-eared paperback novels.

Caylee followed close behind him, thankfully close-lipped for the moment. He headed for the kitchen where he could hear voices. Troy and Luke would have the most up-to-date news out of Fortuna.

As he entered the kitchen both men stared in his direction. They weren’t looking at him but rather over his shoulder to the petite Caylee in her wedding finery.

“Oh man, we’re in serious trouble here,” Troy said softly, his words tightening the ball of uneasiness in the pit of Micah’s stomach.

CAYLEE DIDN’T know what she found more intimidating, being the only woman in the company of men who looked fit enough to take on an entire army all by themselves or the tall blonde’s words as he gazed at her.

Micah ushered her into a chair at the table as he made the introductions. Troy Sinclair was an inch or so shorter than Micah who she figured stood at least six foot two. His blond hair was cut short and his eyes were the cool gray of a cloudy day. He was dressed in a crisp, white shirt and a pair of charcoal slacks. A suit jacket hung over the back of his chair.

Luke Washington was about Micah’s height with black hair that hung long. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, and looked more biker than businessman. Although both of the other men were attractive, she thought Micah was the most handsome of the three.

She nearly laughed at this thought. She was in trouble. Deep trouble by the sound of things. And yet she was pulling a purely female act by comparing the physical attractiveness of the men she hoped could get her out of this mess.

“What’s going on?” Micah asked once all four of them were seated at the table.

“For one thing her picture has been all over the news,” Luke said. “Although they’re calling her a person of interest, it’s pretty clear they think she had something to do with Jason Worthington’s murder.”

“That’s crazy,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t kill Jason. All I did was run from him when I got the chance.” She felt as if she’d been thrust into a bad dream and couldn’t wake up.

“What’s equally bad is that they’ve already tied you to it, too,” Troy said to Micah. “Kincaid called my cell an hour ago looking for you. Apparently one of the surveillance cameras on the ferry caught your image and because Jason’s permanent residence is here, the locals down there contacted Kincaid. I’ve got to tell you, it was the first time I’ve ever heard any real joy in that man’s voice.”

“Kincaid? Who is that?” Caylee asked.

“Chief of Police. He hates Micah’s guts. There’s nothing he’d like better than to have a reason, any reason, to lock him up,” Troy said.

Caylee looked at Micah, but he offered no further explanation. “Who found the body?” he asked.

“A maid,” Luke answered. “Apparently Jason liked a nightcap right before he went to bed and there was a standing order for her to bring him a glass of brandy before he turned in each night. She went to deliver the drink and found him stabbed to death in bed.”

All three men turned their attention on Caylee. “I don’t know how many ways I can tell you all that I had nothing to do with it.” Blood filled her cheeks, warming them in a blush of frustration. “Do any of you see any blood on me? Surely if I’d stabbed Jason I’d be covered in his blood. Or maybe you think I stabbed him, then changed into this wedding gown to make a run for it.”

“I meant to ask you about the gown,” Luke said.

“Don’t ask,” Micah replied darkly. “What I want to know is what we should do with her.” He thumbed a finger in Caylee’s direction as if she were an unsightly wart that had suddenly appeared on the back of his hand.

“Maybe I should just go to the police and tell them I’m innocent,” she said. “I mean, surely they would be reasonable.”

Micah laughed, a dry bark that held no humor. “The murder took place on Fortuna, which means Louisiana law enforcement will be in charge of the investigation. If you’re going to turn yourself in, then be prepared to spend some time there. And you’d better have a great criminal defense lawyer in your corner because right now you look good for this crime.”

Each word he spoke filled her more and more with concern. She’d like to believe that no innocent person was ever sent to prison for a crime not committed, but she’d watched enough television to know that simply wasn’t the case.

She’d had the means and the opportunity to kill Jason Worthington. More importantly, if she told them that he was acting weird and she’d been frightened of him, then she also had what could be defined as a motive.

“Okay, give me another alternative,” she finally said.

“What I recommend is that both of you stay here until we have more information to make some reasonable decisions,” Troy said. “The news reports of the murder have been sketchy at best up to this point. It’s only been a couple of hours since the body was found, but needless to say because of the Worthington name, things are going to move fast.”

Caylee looked at Micah, who returned her gaze with those pale blue eyes that revealed nothing. “Did you meet Jason’s father, Grant?”

“No, there was no reason for me to meet him. Jason and I were just casually dating,” she replied.

“And you always agree to go off with a man you’re casually dating for a weeklong vacation?” Micah asked.

It was obvious by the tone of his voice that he either didn’t believe the story she’d told him or he didn’t like how she conducted her life. But she didn’t care what Micah Stone thought of her or her story. She just wanted this nightmare to end.

“This was my first time to agree to a vacation with a man I was dating. Trust me when I say it will definitely be the last time,” she replied.

“Look, I know it’s been a long night,” Troy said as he got up from the table. “Why don’t we all get some sleep. In a couple of hours we’ll have more information and we can decide what should be done then.”

Luke stood and covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “Why don’t we plan on meeting back here around noon?”

Caylee wanted to tell them both to sit back down, to solve this mess right here, right now instead of leaving her alone with Micah, who looked none too happy with the situation.

She remained seated at the table as Micah walked his two partners to the front door. Staring out the window into what was left of the dark night, she thought of the moment she realized she’d needed to escape from Jason.

He’d had her model the wedding gown in his suite of rooms. It had been the last thing she’d wanted to do, but had capitulated in order to keep the peace. After all, Jason was her ride back to the States. As she’d walked into the room his eyes had lit with a fervent light of desire that had pushed her over the edge and made her realize the relationship was going to end badly.

She’d had a feeling that Jason was a man accustomed to getting his own way and it was about to get ugly. She certainly didn’t know him or love him enough for a commitment. She hadn’t even wanted to sleep with him.

When she’d gone back to her suite of rooms to change, she’d gone directly into her bathroom and it was there she’d decided not to waste another minute. Every internal alarm she possessed was screaming at her to run, to escape. So she’d gone out the bathroom window.

And now he was dead and she was in trouble.

She looked at Micah as he entered the kitchen. “There are three bedrooms. You can pick where you’d like to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep,” she replied. “I keep going over everything in my mind, trying to figure out what I should have done differently.”

“I suggest you try to get some rest. I have a feeling things are only going to get more stressful from here on out.”

“I should call my family,” she said thoughtfully.

“No phone calls tonight,” he said firmly.

She straightened in the chair. “But, they’ll be worried about me.”

“They’ll just have to stay worried for now,” he replied. “If it was just you here I wouldn’t give a damn who you called, but I’m in this mess, too, and I don’t want a slip of your tongue to allow anyone to figure out where we are, so no calls tonight. Now I’ll show you the bedrooms.” He looked at her expectantly.

She got up from the table. The wedding gown felt as if it weighed a million pounds. “I don’t suppose you have a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in my size hanging around.”

“No, but I can probably find you a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in my size,” he replied as they walked through the living room and down a hallway.

“Bathroom is there,” he said, pointing to a doorway on the right. She peeked in to see blue towels and a matching shower curtain. “Bedroom one, two and three.” He pointed to each of the next three doorways.

She walked into the nearest one where there was a double bed, a dresser and nothing else. “This is fine,” she said, suddenly more weary than she’d ever been in her life. She sat on the edge of the bed. “If you could just get me those clothes, I won’t bother you anymore.”

He nodded and disappeared from the doorway. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that Jason was a man who liked to get his own way and she had a feeling Micah Stone was cut from the same cloth. Well, he’d know soon enough that she was a woman who wasn’t pushed easily.

He returned with a black T-shirt and a pair of gray jogging pants. He also brought with him a length of rope. “I figured you could use the rope as a belt. I doubt you’ll be able to keep those pants up without one. There are new toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom. Feel free to use anything else in there that you need. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

He left the room and closed the door behind him. She got up and locked the door, although she had a feeling if Micah wanted to come back inside, no simple lock would keep him out. Still, pressing the button on the doorknob gave her a small sense of control.

Control. She nearly laughed at the idea as she unzipped the hateful gown and stepped out of it. The laughter never materialized, and instead tears burned hot in her eyes.

What a mess. Agreeing to go off with Jason had been uncharacteristic of her, but he’d been charmingly insistent and she’d been too long without both a vacation and a boyfriend.

She pulled on the T-shirt over her bra, instantly engulfed by the fragrance of Micah’s faint cologne, a clean scent mixed with a bit of spice. She found it oddly comforting as she pulled down the bedspread and crawled beneath the sheets.

That was her last thought before sleep overtook her. When she woke up, sunshine danced into the nearby window, and by the cast of the sun she figured it must be late morning.

Surely by now the authorities in Fortuna would have caught Jason’s killer and her name would be cleared. She could go home, get back to work at the store and put this entire nightmare behind her.

She got out of bed and pulled on the jogging pants, finding them ridiculously big, but certainly better than the damned wedding gown. Using the rope as a belt, she managed to secure them around her waist, then she opened the bedroom door and peered out into the hall.

The scent of coffee rode the air and the sound of voices came from the living room. After listening just a moment she realized the voices were coming from the television.

She went across the hall into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. The makeup she’d worn the night before hadn’t magically disappeared through the long night. Mascara smudged the skin beneath her eyes and gray eye shadow had found the crease in her eyelids and clung heavily.

She eyed the shower longingly and gave into temptation. She’d face the day better if she could wash the night off her. She stood beneath a hot spray of water and wished the events of the night before had been nothing more than a crazy nightmare. She wanted to step out of the shower and be back in her apartment, getting ready for a day at the store.

But of course that didn’t happen. She redressed in the sweats and T-shirt, brushed her teeth with one of the new toothbrushes and worked the tangles out of her hair. Finally she felt prepared to take on whatever the day might bring.

Vindication, that’s all she wanted—That and a return to her normal, boring life. It was going to be a long time before she’d be interested in an exotic vacation again.

Micah sat on the sofa, looking more stern, more dangerous than he had the night before. A weight of dread filled her stomach. He didn’t look like a man pleased with the morning news.

“Good morning,” she said.

His head moved in a curt nod. “Coffee is in the kitchen and there are some doughnuts as well.”

“What’s happened since last night?” she asked.

“Go get your coffee and then we’ll talk,” he replied. His eyes gave nothing away, but she knew the news wasn’t good.

In the kitchen she found the coffee pot half full and a box of glazed doughnuts on the table. She poured herself a cup of coffee but ignored the doughnuts. Her stomach was twisted in too many knots to eat.

With coffee cup in hand, she returned to the living room and sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Micah. Once again she was struck by his handsomeness. He wasn’t a pretty boy—his features were too bold, too lean to be considered handsome in the classic sense.

She ignored the slight flutter in her stomach just as she’d ignored the doughnuts. The last thing she needed at the moment was to feel any kind of attraction for another man. It was a man who’d gotten her into this debacle.

“Unfortunately things look less promising for us this morning than they did last night,” he said as he pressed a remote control button that muted the television.

She glanced at the screen where an attractive blonde stood in front of a weather map, then looked back at Micah, dreading whatever he was about to tell her.

“What do you know about the maid who was in Fortuna with you and Jason,” he asked.

She sat back and frowned. “Not much. Her name is Marie. She’s about my age, maybe a little older. I got the impression she’s worked for the Worthington family for years. Why?”

“She’s been all over the news, telling every reporter who will listen that she knew you were nothing more than a gold digger when she met you, and that she knows you killed poor young Mr. Worthington, then stole valuables from the house.”

Caylee gasped. “But that’s crazy. I didn’t steal anything from there except the gown that I wore out. As far as me being a gold digger, that’s utterly ridiculous. I have my own money. I didn’t need any from Jason Worthington. My jewelry store was financially successful when my father owned it, and when he died five years ago and it passed to me, I managed to increase profits tenfold. I’m a wealthy woman in my own right.” She stopped her tirade to draw breath. “If anything was stolen last night then I would suggest they check the maid’s luggage.”

“The general consensus seems to be that you and I were in this together.” His pale eyes bore into hers with a hint of acrimony. “The theory is that you killed Jason and stole a bunch of stuff and I was there as the getaway driver, so to speak.”

“This is all crazy. How can this be happening,” she said more to herself than to him.

“The how doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice terse. “What does matter is that as of ten o’clock this morning, arrest warrants were issued for both of us.”

Once again Caylee released a gasp. She grabbed hold of the sofa’s arm, feeling as if the world had suddenly tilted and she was about to fall off. “I don’t understand, how could they have done that already? What happened to an investigation?”

“It’s called a rush to judgment,” he said. His gaze left hers and focused on the television where the words, “Murder in Paradise” danced across the bottom of the screen. He hit the remote button to bring up the sound to hear a male reporter speaking.

“… Marie Carvel made a grisly discovery. Curled in a fetal ball beneath the gold and pink bedspread was the body of her employer. Jason Worthington had been stabbed three times with a knife that has yet to be recovered.”

Caylee shot up rigid, her heart pounding in stunned surprise. “Mute it,” she exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?” Micah asked, hitting the mute button.

She stared at him. “The gold and pink bedspread they just talked about, that wasn’t in Jason’s room. The bedspread in his room was navy. The pink and gold, that was the bedspread in my room.” She frowned. “While I was in the bathroom escaping out the window, Jason must have come into my room and gotten into my bed.”

“Wouldn’t the killer have seen his face?”

Caylee frowned. “Not necessarily. Maybe he had the blanket up over his head. He was childish like that.”

Micah stared at her for a long minute. “So, that means one of two things,” he said slowly. “The killer had to have followed him from his room to your room.”

“You said two things,” she said, her heart began to beat in an unsteady rhythm as she anticipated his next words.

“Or Jason wasn’t the intended victim at all,” he said, his words causing an arctic chill to crawl up her back.

“You were.”

Chapter Three

Micah watched as Caylee jumped up from the sofa and began to pace back and forth in front of him. He couldn’t help but notice how attractive she looked this morning with her freshly scrubbed face and her shiny dark hair.

He found it more than a little irritating that despite the fact that she wore a T-shirt that was far too big and jogging pants that engulfed her, the thrust of her full breasts was evident as was the sexy sway of her hips.

“Who would want to kill me?” she said, her voice almost a full octave higher than normal. “I don’t have any enemies, I try to be nice to everyone I meet. I’m a thoughtful employer, I don’t owe anybody money and I don’t have any crazy ex-boyfriends.” She stopped pacing and stared at Micah. “Why would anyone want me dead?”

“Maybe because you talk so much?” he said dryly.

Her cheeks colored with a blush and she shot him a cool frown. “I always talk too much when I’m nervous,” she said. “And excuse me, but the possibility that somebody tried to kill me definitely makes me more than a little bit nervous.”

“Why don’t you sit down. You’re starting to make me nervous,” Micah said gruffly. He was irritable this morning. He’d gotten little sleep the night before and the news of the day certainly hadn’t made him feel better about the mess he’d stepped into when he’d gotten on that plane in Fortuna.

He frowned as Caylee flopped down next to him. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked, her glittering green eyes looking at him questioningly. “Maybe we should just turn ourselves in, explain to the police what happened and that we didn’t have anything to do with Jason’s death. Surely we can make them see that we’re innocent.”

“You’re free to do that if you want. Unfortunately it’s not the path I intend to follow. There’s a bit of bad blood between me and Chief Kincaid. If I turn myself in, he’ll make sure I don’t see the light of day for a long time to come,” Micah said.

He could see the questions in her eyes, questions he didn’t intend to answer, so he continued. “However if you do choose to turn yourself in, let me remind you of what I said last night—I hope you have somebody good to run your shop and plenty of money to hire a high-powered criminal defense lawyer. A murder trial steals time and money from everyone involved except the lawyers.”

She should never play poker, he thought as he watched the myriad expressions that played on her features. Shock, disbelief and fear, they were all there in her eyes, on her face.

“I can’t leave my store indefinitely with my manager in charge of things,” she said. “I mean, she’s a nice young woman, but I need to be there making the decisions and keeping things running smoothly. I haven’t spent the last five years of my life working my butt off to make it a success for it all to go to ruin because of this…. this mistake.”

She leaned toward him and placed a hand on his forearm, the icy cold of her fingers telling him she wasn’t as composed as she was trying to appear. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked again.

Micah shifted positions, dislodging her hand from him. He didn’t want her looking to him for answers. He’d spent his entire life consciously choosing not to be responsible for anyone but himself. He definitely didn’t want to be responsible for a woman he didn’t know, a woman at the center of a murder case. He had enough problems of his own.

And yet, what was he supposed to do? Throw her out of the house? Leave her to flounder on her own because her eyes were too green, her face was too pretty and her very presence made him slightly uncomfortable?

“Micah?” She held his gaze intently, looking as if she were waiting for him to fix her world.

Before he could formulate an answer, the front door opened and Troy and Luke came in. They carried in their arms several bags of groceries and wore the same grim expressions they’d had the night before.

Both Caylee and Micah followed them into the kitchen where they began to unload the food and put it away. “It doesn’t look like this is all going to resolve itself easily. There’s talk that the officials on Fortuna are going to give the investigation into Jason’s death to the Kansas City cops,” Troy said as he shoved a couple packages of steaks into the freezer.

“Why would they do that? The murder took place in their jurisdiction.” Micah sat at the table across from Caylee.

“Officially the reasoning is Jason wasn’t a resident at the time of his death and they’re certain that the people who committed the crime, you and Caylee, have returned to Kansas City,” Troy replied.

“Unofficially, it’s probably because the Fortuna police force is a handful of glorified security guards,” Luke added. “Murder wasn’t supposed to happen on the glittering island on the sea.”

“Besides, by handing it over to the Kansas City cops they manage to distance the island from the murder. The last thing the officials on Fortuna want is for the island to be in the news as a place where the rich and infamous might not be safe.” Troy put the last of the meat they’d brought into the refrigerator, then joined them at the table.

“So, what does that mean for us?” Caylee asked.

“It means every cop on the Kansas City police force will be looking for you two.” Luke flung himself into the last chair at the table, his dark eyes glittering.

“We discovered something interesting when watching the news,” Micah said. He told them about Jason being murdered in the bed where Caylee had been sleeping. “We think it’s possible Jason wasn’t the intended victim.”

Both Luke and Troy focused their attention on Caylee, whose cheeks blossomed pink beneath their intense scrutiny. “I can’t imagine who’d want to hurt me,” she said.

Micah leaned back in his chair. “But we have to consider the possibility that she was the target, not Jason.” He looked at Caylee once again. “And that means I’m going to get very well acquainted with you and your lifestyle.” His tone of voice was harsh, making it sound more like a threat than he’d intended. So much for staying uninvolved, he thought to himself. “The only way to clear my name is to clear yours.”

His interest in her was purely self-serving. At the moment he needed her because she was the answer to getting himself out of this mess.

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to,” she said as she sat up straighter in the chair. “I just don’t know where to begin. This is all new to me, being accused of murder and staying with three repo men.”

“Recovery experts,” Micah corrected her.

“Whatever,” she exclaimed.

“It looks like the only way to get you out of trouble is to solve the crime ourselves.” Troy raked a hand over his short blond hair, a gesture Micah knew indicated a certain level of stress.

Troy and Luke had become the family Micah had never had, brothers of the heart bonded by the experience of war, mutual respect and that indefinable element that forges lifelong friendships.

He knew he was putting them at risk as accessories to murder. They could face charges of aiding and abetting. But he also knew not to protest their involvement, knew that they would have his back whether he wanted them to or not.

“We’ll spend the day digging up what we can on Jason Worthington,” Luke said. His dark eyes glittered with the thrill of the chase. “By the end of the day we’ll not only know who his friends and enemies were, we’ll also know what he had for breakfast the day he died and what his favorite color was.”

“I can tell you what he had for breakfast,” Caylee said. “Marie served us fruit cups and croissants. We didn’t want to eat anything too heavy because he’d planned on us spending the day on the beach. I’m not a huge beach person, but I was eager to get out of the house and spend the day among other people because Jason was giving me the willies.”

Troy and Luke looked at her as if she were a creature from another planet. “She talks too much when she gets nervous,” Micah explained dryly.

“I’d plan on the two of you being here for at least a week or longer,” Troy said, once again looking at Micah. “You know investigating anything like this takes time.”

“Is there any way I can go to my apartment and get some clothes and things?” Caylee asked. She grabbed the bottom of the T-shirt she wore.

“You can’t,” Troy replied. “I’m sure the cops are probably watching the place.”

“I can get in and get you what you need,” Luke said.

“Really?” The smile that curved her lips tightened a ball of tension inside Micah’s stomach. Her smile immediately disappeared. “I don’t have my keys,” she said with obvious dismay. “Surely it would be easier just to pick up a few things from the store.”

“I’d rather break in someplace than shop for a woman,” Luke replied.

“Luke doesn’t need keys,” Micah replied. One of Luke’s strengths was that he’d never met a lock he couldn’t pick or an alarm system he couldn’t disarm. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’ll get in tonight after dark. Just make a list of things you want from there,” Luke said.

Micah got up and moved to a cabinet drawer where he pulled out a legal pad and a pen. He gave them both to Caylee, but remained standing, knowing instinctively that within minutes Luke and Troy would be leaving.

Troy scooted his chair back. “So, we’re all on the same page?”

Micah nodded as Caylee hurriedly wrote out her list for Luke. When she was finished she handed the sheet of paper to him and together Luke and Troy stood.

Micah walked with them to the front door, surprised to realize he was dreading the moment they’d walk out and leave him alone with Caylee.

“Anything you need us to take care of for you?” Troy asked as they paused just inside the door. He grinned. “I mean other than the obvious.”

Micah had no family to contact, nobody who would care if he disappeared off the face of the earth forever. Even Heidi, the tall blonde he was supposed to meet tonight, would quickly find another man to fulfill her basic needs. The only people who might notice his absence were his neighbors, and then only to bitch and moan about the fact that he wasn’t keeping up with his lawn.

“Let’s just get to the bottom of this as fast as we can so I can get back to my life,” Micah finally said.

“We’ll also see what we can dig up on the maid, Marie Carvel. She’s doing a lot of mouth flapping to reporters,” Troy added.

“I’ll be by late tonight with Caylee’s things,” Luke said and with that, Micah’s two partners left the house. “You have spare clothes, right?” he said to Micah, who nodded.

Micah watched them as they got into a car he’d never seen before. They were being careful, aware that Chief Kincaid would be watching them. Micah tightened his grip on the door as he closed it. Kincaid would probably love to have an opportunity to put a bullet through Micah’s heart.

He also noticed dark storm clouds gathering in the southwest, portending rain in the near future. Micah hated rain. Everything bad that had ever happened in his life had happened during a storm.

He returned to the kitchen where Caylee had poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and had indulged in one of the doughnuts. Her upper lip was dusted with a fine coat of sugar and for just one moment of temporary insanity, Micah wanted to lean across the table and lick it off.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

He grabbed a napkin from the holder in the center of the table and thrust it at her with more force than necessary. Her eyes widened as she quickly ran it across her full lips.

“What happens next is that I learn everything there is to know about you and your life, and we try to figure out who might want you dead.”

It had been a long time since he’d been so acutely conscious of a woman. Even now he was aware of the scent of her, the clean, fresh fragrance of the soap they kept in the bathroom. The smattering of freckles across her nose was now evident without the cover of her makeup, but rather than making her look young and vulnerable, the freckles looked oddly sexy.

At that moment a boom of thunder shook the windows, and the ball of dread that had been inside Micah’s belly since the moment they’d heard about Jason’s murder tightened into a hot pool of fire as he fully realized the danger of the storm around them.

“I HATE STORMS,” Caylee said as she looked out the window where the sunny sky had been usurped by dark, angry clouds. “Especially summer storms.” She looked back at Micah, her eyes darker green than they’d been a moment ago. “When I was eight years old, my mother died of cancer. The night she finally passed there was a terrible storm. My dad came out of the hospital room and told me she was gone. For a long time afterward I thought the storm had taken her away.”

Micah reached in front of her and pulled the legal pad and pen in front of him. “So, your father raised you?”

She smiled. “My father loved me, but for all intents and purposes, he didn’t really raise me, my Aunt Patsy took care of me.”

“What’s Patsy’s legal name?” He picked up the pen and she noticed that his hands were big and looked strong. There wasn’t a single part of the man that seemed soft or vulnerable.

“Surely you don’t think my Aunt Patsy has anything to do with this,” she protested. She couldn’t imagine the plump, loving woman who’d taken her and her cousin to play in the park, the woman who had gone shopping for Caylee’s first bra and had taught her the facts of life, being in any way responsible for the murder.

Another rumble of thunder sounded, and Caylee jumped in her chair. Rain began to pelt the windows and she wasn’t sure if it was the storm that stirred the darkness inside her or the very idea that somebody close to her might want to kill her.

“This has got to be about Jason,” she said fervently. “His killer must have followed him from his suite to mine. I just can’t imagine this has anything to do with me. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She desperately wanted him to agree with her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right.

Unfortunately platitudes didn’t appear to be a part of Micah Stone. “What’s Patsy’s last name,” he repeated.

“Jackson, Patricia Jackson,” she said and wished her Aunt Patsy was with her right now, and could wrap Caylee up in her plump, loving arms.

“Any other family?”

“Just my cousin, Rick. He’s twenty-eight, two years younger than me. We were raised more like brother and sister than cousins.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a computer and electronics geek and runs a repair shop out of his house.” She sighed with frustration. “Look, there’s no way these people would hurt me. They’re my family. We love each other. We’ve never exchanged a cross word between us.”

“I’m just getting background information,” he said, his voice emotionless and his pale eyes making her want to scream.

“Why don’t you tell me a little of your background,” she said. “For the moment it looks like we’re stuck here together, it would be nice if I knew something about you.”

For just a moment a touch of humor shone from his eyes. “All you need to know about me is that I’ll never take you to an island, buy you a wedding dress and force you to run and hide in the back of a plane.”

“Very funny,” she exclaimed. She knew from his answer that he had no intention of telling her anything meaningful about himself.

“This isn’t about me,” he continued. “I was just there to recover a plane. This is about you and Jason Worthington. Troy and Luke are picking apart his life, and it’s my job to pick apart yours.”

She twisted the napkin between her fingers. She wanted to be angry with Micah for not being reassuring or sympathetic, for not taking her into his arms and holding her until the chill inside her warmed.

But she supposed if he was going to find the killer it was better that he was single-minded, objective and on her side. Of course she couldn’t forget that he was on her side for one reason only. Until he cleared her name, his wouldn’t be cleared either.

“What else do you want to know?” she finally asked, resigned that she had to get through this line of questioning.

“You mentioned that you hadn’t been dating, that Jason was your first boyfriend in a long time.” This time his facial expression was one of disbelief. “A pretty woman like you surely had men interested in a relationship with you.”

A feminine flutter of pleasure swept through her. He thought she was pretty. The flutter lasted only a moment, then halted as she reminded herself she didn’t care what Micah Stone thought of her. He was merely the means to an end.

“Like I told you before, I’ve focused solely on work the last five years. There hasn’t been time for romance or men.” She twisted the napkin around her ring finger. “I’m not one of those women who needs a man in my life to feel complete. A relationship would be a wonderful addition to my life, but it’s not a necessity.” She winced, recognizing she’d given him more information than he’d asked for. “Anyway, the answer is no, there are no crazy boyfriends lurking in my past.”

She got up from the table and grabbed another one of the doughnuts in the box. Sugar. Maybe a taste of sugar would ease the edge of despair that threatened to consume her.

“What about coworkers?” Micah asked, watching her with slightly narrowed eyes as she returned to the table, the doughnut in hand. “Have you fired anyone recently?”

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