Reluctant Runaway (4 page)

A tint of red crept out of Tony’s collar.

“See?” She settled back. “You don’t know the whole story, Mr. Jump-to-Conclusions. And yes, I still ran the risk of injury but not any more out of reason than for you to chase some crook through a back alley. We do what we do.”

Tony pulled her close. “Okay. I’ll grant I didn’t know about the bungee cord or your shot at competing in the Olympics. Impressive. But I’m still not 100 percent with a balance beam act between skyscrapers. I need you safe.”

Desi leaned her head against his shoulder. The smooth weave of his suit jacket welcomed her cheek. “I’d trust you with my life. Now you have to trust me. And when you can’t, you’ll have to trust the Lord to take care of me.”

She felt as much as heard his chuckle.

“How did I find such a wise woman?”

Desi sat up and smoothed her hair. “All right, oh trustworthy male, now you owe your wise woman a piece of juicy trivia about
you
. We still have a lot to find out about each other.”

“What would you like to know?”

Desi tapped her upper lip. “How about this? Fair is fair. Max has exposed the shady side of her family tree—their rotten record at wedded bliss. And you already know my tree is more like a stick. Few relatives and none close.” She laughed, but a lump rose and cut off the sound. She swallowed the haunting loneliness. “Maybe that’s why I’m so impressed with your abundant family, branches shooting out all over the place to hear your mom talk. So who is the most disreputable member on your particular bough and why?”

Tony lowered his eyes, brows sucked together. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the fingers tapping his knee signaled nerves.

His hand stilled. “Those marriage statistics in Max’s extended family bug me. So far out of normal range. There’s got to be a reason.”

“Have you figured it out?”

He shook his head. “Not enough data to be specific, but I do have a thought. This isn’t science, more like an observation. I investigate a lot of people, and I’ve noticed that a bad choice at a critical moment by one family member can set off a chain reaction that destroys generations.” His lips settled into a thin line.

“You mean like the tendency to alcoholism being in the gene pool?”

“Not exactly, though it’s a related issue. More like the day Esau decided it was more important to have a bowl of stew than his inheritance. So Jacob, the sneaky younger son, got the inheritance, and Esau, the elder, cut himself and his descendants out of the lineage of Jesus.”

“But Esau’s problem went a lot deeper than one bad decision. It was a whole mindset of immediate gratification—the Bible version of the fast-food mentality. Literally.”

Tony laughed. “Bingo, babe. A mindset leads to a certain result. If Max digs deep enough into her history, she might find out where this marital self-destruct sequence originated.”

Desi shook her head. “That doesn’t explain all the widows and widowers in her family. Max’s dad passed away from cancer a few years ago, so her mom is single, but not a divorcee.”

“Maybe we haven’t gone far enough with the theory yet.” He shifted in his seat. “Lots of times I’ve wished I could put this stuff in an investigative report, but there’s only room on those for what can be observed and quantified.” He shook his head. “Not
many years ago, I would’ve laughed anyone out of the office for thinking something like this.”

“Okay, spit it out. I won’t laugh. I promise.”

Tony met her gaze. “By taking the attitude that marriage is temporary—a throwaway option—the members of Max’s family may have attracted spiritual forces that make sure their ‘curse’ happens one way or another.”

Desi let out a long breath. “Yikes! That’s scary.”

“Tell me about it.”

She stiffened with sudden realization, then glared in his face. “No,
you
tell me about it. You’ve dazzled me again with what a deep man you are, but you still haven’t shared that juicy tidbit off your family tree.”

“Rain check.” He echoed her words about the kiss they didn’t share the night before. “We’re at the airport.”

“Airport!” Desi looked around. She’d assumed they were headed back to the hotel.

“Yep, your all-purpose FBI agent not only packed your belongings—er, paid hotel staff to do it—but he booked you and Max on the earliest flight to Albuquerque.”

“You didn’t show up this morning to talk me out of going?”

“I don’t want to control your life, Des.”

They got out of the taxi. Bustle and noise surrounded them as the driver lifted luggage out of the trunk. Desi recognized one of the bags as Tony’s. He must be returning to Boston. Or maybe … no, he wouldn’t … Would he?

“No, I’m not going to Albuquerque,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m headed back to Boston.”

“Are my thoughts that obvious?”

“Sometimes. You can’t help your expressive face.”

His grin raised her hackles sky-high. Someone please
inform her when she had made up her mind whether to kick this guy or kiss—

“Jabba the Hutt!” The name burst out before she thought better.

“What?” Tony whirled in the direction of her stare, and his face went hard.

An enormous man in a sports jacket and chinos flowed up the sidewalk toward them.

“Ms. Jacobs.” Hamilton Gordon stretched a puffy hand toward Desi. “Pleasure to run into you again.”

Her fingers slid in and out of his dry grip. Not Jabbalike at all. She’d expected a mauling or at least a little dampness. Tony edged a shoulder between them, smooth and irritating at the same time. Gordon’s smile widened to include Tony, though he didn’t offer a handshake. Just as well. Her agent-man didn’t look receptive.

He jerked a nod at Gordon. “Tony Lucano. You were dressed as Darth Vader last night.”

“What did I say about powers of observation?” Gordon angled an amused look in Desi’s direction. “Hamilton Gordon. Meat packing’s my game, so folks call me Ham.” He ho-hoed, mottled skin flushing.

Desi dredged up a smile. The subject of their conversation at the party hit her afresh. Tony was being groomed for more than what Boston could offer.

“I take it you’re returning to Santa Fe this morning,” Tony said. “A booming interstate business can’t do without its CEO for long.”

His tone prickled the hairs on the back of Desi’s neck. What was going on here? She glanced at Gordon.

The man frowned. “I was acquitted of those RICO charges. You weren’t even an agent on the case.”

“A buddy of mine was, and you were guilty” The men glared at each other. Then Gordon’s shoulders lowered, and he spread massive hands. “The Lord had mercy. I’m not the same man I was then.”

“Yeah, I heard you got religion.”

“No, I found the Lamb of God. The body and blood cleansed me of sin. The Lamb will do the same for anyone. Even an FBI agent.” A smile wrinkled folds around his eyes.

Desi laughed. The curdled-cream look on Tony’s face was too rich. She hooked his tense arm with one of hers. “Tony and I are believers, Mr. Gordon.”

“Ham.” He nodded. “One of you may be a believer, but the other seems to be a judge.”

Desi braced for eruption, but Tony’s muscles relaxed under her fingers.

“I’m all for getting right with God, Mr. Gordon. Provided your faith is real, but I’m the kind of guy that requires proof.”

Gordon inclined his head, though Desi noticed Tony wasn’t invited to call him
Ham
. “Perhaps if you watch my pastor on his television broadcast, you’ll be assured of the soundness of my conversion. Reverend Archer Romlin has a powerful ministry. Here’s his card.”

Gordon produced a rectangle of stiff paper from his jacket’s inner pocket. Desi took the card. “We don’t want to keep you from your flight, Mr. Gor—Ham.”

“I leave in my corporate jet in an hour. I came to the public terminal hoping to speak to you, but I see that now is not the moment to bring up—” He paused and a grimace that approximated a smile passed over his lips. “Let me just say I’d like to discuss mutual history that may offer business opportunities to both of us.” His gaze bored into her. “Perhaps we might connect during your stay in Albuquerque.” He nodded
to her, measured Tony with a look, and walked away.

“That was … interesting.” Desi stared after him. “You could have been nicer to a new Christian.”

He snorted. “Jabba the Hutt. You made a good call.”

“People can change.”

He frowned.

“They can! Jesus changed both of us.”

Tony’s expression softened, and he touched her cheek. “Hey, you’re cold. Let’s get inside. For now, believe me, I’m neither paranoid nor overprotective where this guy is concerned. I’ll tell you what little I can when we get to your departure gate.” He handed her an e-ticket. “Meet you at the security checkpoint. My flight is with a different airline.”

Desi watched him head for an outdoor baggage kiosk. The wind picked up strands of hair and teased her cold cheeks with them. She headed for the indoor check-in desk.

While she waited her turn, she kept an eye on the doors. As she reached the counter, Max came puffing inside.
Wonder if I look as disheveled as she does?
Desi glanced down at her field-work jumpsuit. Not her usual travel attire. No doubt her hair was still goofy from all the pins and the headdress from the party. Oh, well.

Max was waiting for her when she finished checking her bag.

“I did mine outside. C’mon.” Max jerked her head toward the security line.

Tony joined them and pulled out his credentials for a quick hustle through the checkpoint. He walked with them to their gate. The attendants were already boarding passengers. Max headed for the entrance ramp like she’d bowl over the first fool who got in her way.

Desi gazed up at Tony “I appreciate you doing this against your better judgment.”

He smiled, but unease showed through narrowed eyes. “Please stay away from Hamilton Gordon. He operates out of Santa Fe, and that’s barely a skip and a jump from Albuquerque.”

“You said you’d tell me about him.”

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets. “I can’t say much, just what’s public record. You’ll have to listen more to what I don’t say.” He met her eyes. “Three years ago, Gordon was acquitted of RICO charges involving the transportation of stolen livestock across state lines, money laundering, and other financial offenses. The case against him was solid until a couple of key witnesses disappeared.” One hand popped from his pocket and chopped the air. “The setback hasn’t taken the Bureau’s eyes off him. We’re good at patiently waiting in the weeds.”

Tony’s gaze softened, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The brush of his fingers tingled her skin. This man could kill as easily as caress with his touch. The hand slipped back into his pocket. He rocked on his heels, frowning.

“And now?”

“Can’t go there.” He shook his head. “But isn’t it strange that this man knew where and when to find you this morning, including where you’re headed? I’m tempted to ditch my job and hop on this plane with you, or else throw you over my shoulder and drag you back to Boston. Promise me, darling, that you’ll call me right away if Gordon approaches you.”

Emotions swirled through Desi. Dismay. Yes, it was weird that some stranger knew her last-minute movements. Delight. He’d give up his job for her! Well, almost. Disgust.
Uh, Mr. Caveman, I’ve got two feet
. She’d smack him for sure if he hadn’t called her
darling
.

“Last call for Flight 859 to Phoenix,” the loudspeaker blared.

“I’ve got to board. I’ll do my best to avoid trouble. And, yes,
if Ham—uh, Mr. Gordon—contacts me, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” Tony moved toward her. “Now, what do you say I collect a down payment on that rain check?”

She let him pull her close. Hey, if he wanted to kiss a messy-haired woman in a Mylar jumpsuit, who was she to stop him? And the man could kiss.

A few minutes later, lips still warm and happy, Desi boarded the plane and spotted her first-class seat beside Max. The redhead was asleep, or at least imitating slumber as well as she’d done a faint. A rush of tenderness filled her. For her friend. For Tony. He was a first-class man. He’d made a big dent in his credit card to provide them with a comfortable ride. She’d find a way to pay him back later.

Right now, she was going to fall into that butter-soft chair and shut her eyes. Soon enough, she’d be thrust back into the madness of a missing niece, an enormous criminal with a mysterious agenda, and a boyfriend who was so good at his job that he could get transferred right out of her life. And let’s not forget the museum theft.

She yawned as she dropped into the seat. What was taken? If she knew that, she might be able to—Her head hit the backrest, and exhaustion snuffed out thought.

Desi left the plane in Albuquerque after two o’clock that afternoon, Max beside her. She wasn’t rested. Sleep lasted the three hours until their layover in Phoenix. But the Arizona stop allowed her to clean up in the bathroom, brush her hair and her teeth, and put on the change of clothing from her carry-on. Oh, and call the office to inform them of her unscheduled detour. Max had cleaned up the same way, after she called her sister to tell her when they would arrive.

As they hustled toward baggage claim, a large poster of Georgia O’Keeffe grinning from the passenger seat of a motorcycle caught Desi’s eye. Too bad she wasn’t here for pleasure. A stop at the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe would top the sightseeing list.

At the baggage claim, they found their carousel still empty, but lots of people milled around. Max pursed her lips and craned her neck. “Where is she?”

“If Jo were here, she’d just have to stand and wait for the plane to cough up our bags.”

“You’re right.” Max fidgeted with a button on her blouse. “But she should’ve been here by now.”

She said the words again after they’d collected the luggage. Then in another fifteen minutes, while they sat and watched others get bags from different flights and trot merrily off. Max got on her cell phone again, anxiety lines punctuating the space between her brows.

Max flipped the phone shut. “Still the answerin’ service. Something must have come up. I hope … ” Her voice trailed off.