Star Bright (24 page)

“I’m sorry,” she whispered shakily. “I never meant to imply—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. I’m not offended.”

She could still see the tenderness in his gaze and knew he spoke the truth. He really wasn’t offended.

“There’s no sin in feelin’ afraid, honey. If you’re feelin’ like I’m feelin’, it’s pretty scary shit. And I haven’t been through what you have.”

So, there, it was out. He
was
developing feelings for her. “What about our being only friends?” she asked, her voice gone thin with anxiety.

“Aren’t we? Friends, I mean? I haven’t kissed you. I haven’t made any physical advances. For right now, all I want is to be friends. That wasn’t a lie.” He pushed at his empty bowl, fiddled with his spoon. “Let’s address each point. I’m only ten years older than you are. I know lots of people, both men and women, who have much younger spouses, and their marriages are great. In a successful relationship, it isn’t about age. It’s about understandin’ each other and enjoyin’ each other, and I enjoy bein’ around you. I really do.”

Rainie enjoyed being with him, too. For the first time in far too long, she’d felt at peace today and in touch with herself. Something about Parker enabled her to let go of all of it and just
be.

“As for me bein’ rich, that was an accident of birth. I’m the son of a very smart, ambitious, hardworkin’ man who was generous enough with his kids to share his wealth
before
he died. It sure as hell isn’t my fault I’ve got money.”

Rainie couldn’t help it. She snorted, trying to smother unexpected laughter. And in that moment, she realized a truly terrifying thing: She’d already fallen in love with this man. An indefinable something drew her to him like a hapless moth to a bug zapper. The relationship could never be. She was a married woman who couldn’t file for a divorce for fear Peter might find her, and Parker was a devout Catholic who wouldn’t even eat without praying over the meal first. Hello? Catholics didn’t believe in divorce, let alone committing bigamy. In short, any relationship between her and Parker was doomed. She could never undo the mistake of her disastrous marriage, and he couldn’t be with her until she did.

And why was she even thinking about that? Marriage wasn’t for her. She’d tried it and hated it. In a very real way, it had nearly been the death of her. The very fact that the thought of marrying Parker had entered her mind should have paralyzed her with fright.

“I can’t do this.” She said it without thought, which was an effect of Parker’s charm. In the beginning, she’d guarded every word she said to him, afraid of his reaction or of telling him too much, but somehow, over time, he’d assuaged her fears and lulled her into thinking it was okay to speak her mind. “I just can’t.”

“I know.”

That was all he said, two simple words, and yet they meant the world to her.
He knew.
She couldn’t do this, and he accepted that. With Peter, that had never been the way of it. When he’d asked her to marry him and she’d expressed her concerns about her internship and her dreams, he’d grown furious and accused her of placing more importance on her career aspirations than her relationship with him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. Tomorrow is another day, darlin’. Right now, you feel overwhelmed. I understand that. You’re fearful about trustin’ again, and I understand that. No pressure. I’ll never ask you to go where you don’t feel comfortable goin’, physically or emotionally. You’ve got my word on that.”

And when he said it, she believed him.

Then he startled her into tearful laughter by asking, “Am I really that opinionated?”

The answer was, “Yes,” only in an inoffensive way. Parker Harrigan had standards and morals and expectations of himself and others. Rainie couldn’t fault him for any of those traits.

“No,” she finally replied. “You do have very cemented ideas about things, but I don’t really have a quarrel with any of them.”

“Not even when it comes to spinach shakes?”

What was it about this man that always urged her to smile, even when her heart hurt? “Not even then.”

He nodded. “So what’s the problem, here, that I’m older than Methuselah, or that I’m just an all-around bastard, like good old What’s-his-name?”

“I can only say there are problems, insurmountable ones.”

He took that in, thought about it for a moment, and nodded. But then he looked her directly in the eye and said, “Nothin’ is insurmountable, honey. Until I can convince you of that, can’t we keep things as they are, with us just bein’ good friends?”

Rainie almost said no, but the thought of doing so made her feel bereft. He
was
her friend, and her world was far less lonely now that he was in it.

“If you promise me that you’ll never try to take it to another level, yes, we can continue as we are, just being friends.”

Mellow light spilled over Peter Danning’s desk as he perused the printout that Riker had just delivered. The list of single female passengers who’d been aboard the
Ocean Jewel
the night of Lorraina’s disappearance was unimpressive. He glanced up at the private investigator.

“It took you this long to come up with a list this short?”

Riker’s lips thinned. “Getting my hands on a passenger log was no simple matter, Mr. Danning. Determining which female passengers traveled alone was even harder. These things don’t happen overnight.”

“How about a list of the crew members?” Peter asked.

“I’m still working on that. The cruise line is stingy with information.” When Danning looked sharply at him, Riker quickly added, “I’ll get a list of names. It will just take a few more days.”

Peter resumed studying the list of female passengers who’d traveled without a companion. His gaze snagged on one name, Anna Pritchard. He whispered it aloud. “My wife’s middle name is Ann.” He glanced up. “How long will it take you to check this Pritchard woman out?”

Riker shrugged. “Probably not long. Why, do you think there’s a connection?”

“The similarity of names may be a complete coincidence,” Danning replied. “But then again, maybe not. If Lorraina created an alias, she might have chosen something similar to her middle name to make it easy to remember.”

Riker held his own copy of the passenger list. He underlined the name in question. “If she’s got a driver’s license and uses a credit card, I should be able to locate her in only a few days.” He gave his employer a questioning look. “What if it’s her? Your wife, I mean?”

Peter’s jaw muscle ticked with suppressed rage. “Then your job will be finished, and mine will begin.”

Chapter Ten

T
he next morning, Rainie was ankle-deep in shredded newspapers and puppy toys, with Mojo hanging tenaciously from the hem of her skirt, when another knock came on the office door. For an instant, she thought it might be Frank, dropping by again for coffee, but this was a decidedly feminine tap. Rainie managed to pry Mojo’s teeth from her skirt and gather him into her arms before calling, “Come in.” She didn’t want the puppy to trash someone’s panty hose or slacks.

When the door opened, she instantly recognized the woman from a photograph she’d seen on Parker’s wall last night. This was the lovely, blue-eyed Loni, Clint Harrigan’s wife.

“Hello,” Rainie said, struck yet again by the incredibly soulful expression in Loni’s eyes, which was even more pronounced in person. She had a gaze that seemed to reach out and enfold you in warmth.

“Hi,” the other woman said with a luminous smile. “I’m Loni, Parker’s sister-in-law. I meant to come over to meet you sooner.” She lightly thumped her temple with the heel of her hand. “Things have been crazy. A short time ago, I was a single professional woman who thought she’d never have kids. Now I’m newly married, have a ready-made little boy, and a baby girl born in March whose sole goal in life is to keep her mama running at high speed. I also think I may be pregnant again.”

“Really? Congratulations.”

“It’s not for sure yet. I’ve just been feeling queasy the last few mornings, and my brain doesn’t seem to be tracking half the time. If I’m not busy with family things, I’m working cases. My husband, Clint, says it best: The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.”

Rainie wondered what kind of cases Loni handled. Though her creased taupe slacks and precision-pressed silk blouse would be suitable corporate attire with the addition of a blazer, she didn’t have the look of a woman on the fast track. There was a quiet serenity and softness about her. She seemed more suited to artistic pursuits or possibly social services, although Rainie could also envision her as a lawyer who worked pro bono for little old ladies who couldn’t afford her fees.

“Cases, huh?” Rainie raised her eyebrows. “Are you an attorney?”

Loni laughed and rolled her eyes in a delightfully girlish way that made Rainie like her even more. “Good grief, no. And trust me, that’s probably a blessing. If I were an attorney, I’d aim for a judgeship so I could sentence serial killers, kidnappers, and child molesters. Not a good thing. I don’t have a very forgiving heart.”

Searching the woman’s gaze, Rainie thought just the opposite was true, that Loni Harrigan had an extremely sensitive and loving heart. It was strange. Since marrying Peter, Rainie was usually suspicious of strangers, but something about this woman instantly breached the barriers that Rainie had erected around herself. Tucking Mojo under her left arm, she stepped forward, offering her hand.

“It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Rainie, Parker’s bookkeeper, but I assume you know that already.” She grinned. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Right?”

“Right.”

Loni regarded Rainie’s outstretched palm for so long that Rainie began to think she would refuse to shake hands with her. But then she smiled and finally clasped Rainie’s fingers. The next instant, her pretty face drained of color, her eyes went oddly blank, and she swayed on her feet. Recalling that the woman might be pregnant, Rainie quickly put Mojo down and moved in to grab Loni’s arm.

“Are you feeling faint? Come over here and sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

Loni sank gratefully onto Parker’s desk chair. “I don’t need water.” She flapped a limp, trembling hand in front of her white face, attempting to smile but failing miserably. Then she bent forward to put her head between her knees. “Oh, sweet heaven,” she whispered. “Oh,
God
, Rainie, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault you feel faint.” Rainie crouched by the chair. “Is it the baby, do you think? I can run get Parker.”

“No, no.” Loni breathed deeply, and then slowly lifted her head. “I’m fine. It’s you who needs help.” Her sky blue gaze clung to Rainie’s. “He’s searching for you,” she whispered. “If he locates you, you’ll be in terrible danger.”

“What?” A chill crawled up Rainie’s spine. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lips chalky, face shimmering with sweat, Loni replied, “You do know what I’m talking about, and you’re in far too much danger to pretend otherwise. Peter Danning doesn’t believe you’re dead. He’s hired a professional investigator. He’s trying to find you. If he does, he’ll kill you.”

Rainie felt as if the floor had vanished from under her. She pushed erect so quickly that the blood drained from her head, making her dizzy. Grasping the edge of her desk for support, she circled to her chair and sank weakly onto the cushioned seat, only vaguely aware of Mojo tugging on her skirt again. Frozen and incredulous, she stared stupidly at Loni’s pale face. Now, when it was too late, she remembered the story Parker had told her last night about his sister-in-law, that she sometimes invaded his privacy by revealing details about his past. At the time, Rainie hadn’t focused on that information, but now, as she searched Loni’s dazed, frightened eyes, she realized that there was something extraordinary about this woman. It was crazy and totally bizarre—but with a mere touch of their hands, Loni had somehow learned things that Rainie never would have revealed to her by choice.

As that realization sank in, Rainie’s first thought was that her goose was cooked. All it would take was for Loni to make one phone call, and Rainie’s new life would be destroyed.
Peter Danning doesn’t believe you’re dead,
she’d said. That meant she somehow knew almost everything, including the fact that Rainie had staged her own demise.

Mouth dry, throat burning, Rainie managed to ask, “Are you going to turn me in?”

“For heaven’s sake, no.” Loni attempted another smile, only with more success this time. “I would never do that. I know what he did to you, Rainie. I know why you ran. And thank God you did.”

This isn’t happening.
The thought swirled through Rainie’s mind like a leaf eddying on the surface of a whirlpool.

“Peter Danning meant to kill you during that cruise,” Loni continued. “You never would have made it back to Seattle. But, of course, you knew that. It’s why you vanished.”

Are we really having this conversation?
Rainie heard Loni’s words, ascertained their meaning, but all of it seemed like a bad dream. She made a fist in her hair. “I’m sorry, but this . . . this is freaking me out.”

Still pale, but visibly regaining her composure, Loni replied, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m clairvoyant, and I often see things when I make physical contact with strangers. I shouldn’t have shaken hands with you. I normally don’t touch people when I meet them. It’s always chancy. I never know when it’ll give me a nasty jolt.” She lifted her slender shoulders in a shrug. “I’m sorry for getting inside your head that way. I know it must be horribly unsettling. I just . . .” She shrugged again, looking as upset as Rainie felt. “You held out your hand, and I didn’t want to offend you by refusing to take it. How rude would that be?”