Beautiful Storm (Lightning Strikes Book 1) (20 page)

"Yes."

"Did she tell you that her father often flew in bad conditions? That he didn't worry at all about his family when he was risking his life, whether it was in the Navy or flying through a bad storm?" Joanna's lips drew into a line. "Wyatt would be here today if he'd thought more about his family and less about the wild blue yonder and those damned lightning strikes."

"Mom," Jake cautioned. "You don't know what Dad ran into that night. Some storms are unavoidable. He was a good pilot."

"In his younger years, yes, before he let his imagination get the best of him, before he started believing that lightning sprites were sending him messages. That's what he thought," she reiterated, giving Michael a pointed look. "I worry that Alicia takes after her father in that regard. Have you seen her lightning photographs? Has she told you that she jumps into her car and races toward the nearest storm, no matter how dangerous it might be?"

"I've seen some of her pictures. She's an amazing photographer."

"She takes too many chances, just like her father. You'd think she would have learned not to challenge nature after her dad died, but she went the opposite direction." Joanna paused, releasing a sigh. "But I didn't want to start a fight tonight. Maybe I should go talk to her."

"I'll do that," Michael said, getting to his feet.

"Tell her I'm sorry. I won't bring up her father again tonight."

"I'll tell her." He'd just reentered the house when his cell phone rang. He paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Diego, is there any news?"

"Where are you?"

From the tension in Diego's voice, he had a feeling the question was not an idle one. "Who's asking?"

"Kellerman says you're in Texas."

"He had someone follow me?" Michael was angry but not completely surprised.

"What are you doing there? I told you to stay out of the investigation, Michael. And why are you with the woman who found Liliana's ID? Is there something going on between you?"

"She's helping me figure out what happened to Liliana. Did you know she was investigating a double homicide?"

"Yes. Kellerman and Rodriguez reviewed the case and interviewed her coworkers and neighbors. There's nothing in Texas to find. Do you think they didn't ask any questions?"

"I think that they're so determined to find me guilty that anything that doesn't fit that scenario doesn't get looked at closely."

"No one is trying to railroad you, but your actions aren't helping. And none of us, including me, understands why you're suddenly joined at the hip to the only person who might have seen Liliana since she disappeared."

"Alicia wants to help."

"Is that really it? Because most normal people don't suddenly jump into a plane with a man they met a few days earlier and who also happens to be a person of interest in a criminal investigation."

"Well, Alicia would tell you that she is far from normal," he said lightly. "All we're doing is asking a few questions, Diego. There's really no reason for concern. If we find nothing, then all we've wasted is time. And if we find something, we'll get closer to a resolution. Isn't that what we all want?"

"Of course it is. I'm just trying to look out for you."

"Why don't you help me instead? The JAG attorney told us they provided the police with a summary of the investigation Liliana was conducting. Any chance you could send me a copy?"

"No," Diego said flatly. "I've been told in no uncertain terms to stay away from the investigation. They know we're friends. The only time they talk to me is to ask me what the hell you're doing. Sorry."

"I understand. Do you know if the police checked to see if anyone in Liliana's circle bought a plane or train ticket to Florida before or after Liliana left Corpus Christi?"

Diego hesitated. "I'm fairly sure the main players were checked out."

"Fairly sure?"

"Like I said, they don't give me all the details. Do you really think there's a link between this case in Texas and her disappearance?"

"I don't know, but Liliana was investigating a murder appeal, and if the person in jail is innocent, then that means there's someone else who committed murder. And if they've killed two people already, I doubt they'd stop at a third." He hated saying the words out loud, but the truth was staring him right in the face.

"That's why you and Alicia need to come back to Miami. You could be in danger, too. You keep pushing, someone will push back."

"I hope so. That might be the only way we'll get to the truth. Is there anything new on your end?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Which gave him another reason to stay in Texas. At least there were new people to question. "I'll call you if I find out anything. You do the same."

"Be careful, Michael."

"I will."

Despite his promise, he couldn't say that being careful had ever been at the top of his list of things to do, and he wasn't going to put it there now. There was far too much at stake.

But he didn't want to put Alicia in the line of fire and as several people had reminded him in the last few hours, that's exactly what he was doing. He needed to send her back to Florida. While he liked having her as a partner, he didn't have the right to risk her life, and he'd promised her mother he'd protect her. He wasn't stupid enough to think that keeping that promise with a murderer on the loose might be easy. But he also didn't think Alicia would go home without a fight. She was invested in the case. Still, he needed to try to make her see reason. He had a feeling that would not be easy, either.

Fifteen

Michael found Alicia in what was probably her childhood bedroom, judging by the floral bedspreads on the twin beds, the matching white desk and dresser, and posters of boy bands from a decade ago. She was sitting on the window bench, and as he entered the room, she wiped her teary eyes before turning to look at him.

He crossed the room and sat down on the bench next to her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Despite her words, she stared back at him with hurt in her beautiful brown eyes. He felt his stomach tighten and a knot of emotion fill his own throat. He wanted to make her feel better. He wanted to take care of her. He wanted to protect her from whatever was making her hurt, and he hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

He understood passion and heat. Tenderness and this tightening feeling of affection were much more disturbing.

"You've been crying," he said, wiping a tear off her cheek with the tip of his finger. "Were you thinking about your father?"

"Yes, but that's not why I got so stupid and emotional down there."

"Your mother was hard on you."

"She always is."

"She told me to tell you she's sorry."

Alicia's eyes widened. "Seriously? What brought that on?"

He shrugged. "I might have said something about her being out of line."

"You defended me?"

"I said what I thought. I don't stand by and do nothing when people I care about are being hurt."

Her gaze met his, a question in her eyes. "You care about me, Michael?"

"How could I not?" he countered. "Look what you've done for me."

"Well, thank you."

"You're welcome. So are you planning to come back downstairs or hide out up here for a while longer?"

"I haven't decided yet." She let out a sigh. "I don't like myself in Texas, Michael. I come into this house, and I'm not me anymore. I'm the teenage girl I used to be. I'm the one who disappoints my mother. It's annoying."

He smiled, relieved that she wasn't as emotionally distraught as he'd anticipated. But then, Alicia had a way of rebounding quickly when life knocked her down.

"I like you in Texas, Alicia. In fact, I like you everywhere." He leaned forward and cupped her face with his hands.

Her gaze darkened. "Michael, what are you doing?"

"Nothing yet. But I have some ideas."

"Distracting ideas."

"Oh, yeah," he said, his pulse racing at her sweet scent, the thought of her lips under his again. She was so close, so very close.

"We need to focus," she said, a desperate edge to her voice. "Remember why we're here."

She was only repeating what he'd told himself every time her smile made his heart catch, but he didn't care about why they were here at this moment. He only cared about feeding the desire that was running rampant through his body.

"I remember," he murmured. "But right now it's just you and me—and a moment."

Her lips parted in what he anticipated would be a protest, but he kissed away whatever words were hovering on her lips.

She tasted like lemonade, like summer, like his best daydream. His troubles slid away as he moved his hands from her face to her hair, running his fingers through the thick waves, holding her still so he could kiss her the way he wanted to—the way she wanted him to.

Her arms came around his back. Her tongue invited him in. And he was more than happy to deepen the kiss.

Passion hummed between them, lighting up his nerves, tightening his body, making him want much more than just a kiss.

Alicia broke away first, her chest rising with each breath as she gazed at him through eyes that were bright and needy. "Michael."

He liked the way she said his name with an intimate sweetness that made him want to make her say his name over and over and over again.

"We can't do this," she added.

Those words he didn't like nearly as much.

"My mom and brother are downstairs."

She made a good point. He sat back, his hands falling to his thighs. "Bad timing, but great kiss."

"Yes," she agreed. "But—"

He cut her off with a shake of his head. "We don't have time for
that
conversation. If we don't go back downstairs, your mother and brother will probably think we're doing what you just stopped us from doing."

Her cheeks reddened at his words, and she jumped to her feet. "Then we better leave."

"One second."

"But you just said—"

"I need a minute," he confessed.

"Oh." She blushed and then sat back down. "I didn't know I had
that
effect on you."

He smiled at the proud gleam in her eyes. "I think you knew very well."

She smiled back and just like that he wanted to kiss her again.

He needed a distraction. "So this was your room?"

"Yes. I shared it with my sister Dani. This window seat was my favorite spot. I used to sit here and read or draw while I waited for my dad to come home. Things were always better when he was in the house."

Alicia's voice filled with emotion as she turned her gaze out the window. "From here, I could see the planes coming in to land at the airport. The night he died, I sat right here, watching the lightning, feeling the thunder rumble through the house. I think I knew there was something wrong. I just didn't want to believe it. Then the police knocked on the door. Even after they told us the horrible news, it seemed like a dream. I don't think it really hit me that he was gone until a week or so later."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Me, too. I think of my dad often. I wish he could have seen me grow up, graduate from high school, move to a new city. I wish he could have been part of my life for longer than he was, but we don't always get what we wish for."

"No, we don't." He still felt the loss of his mother, and he didn’t remember her in nearly the same detail as Alicia remembered her father.

"The hardest part of losing my dad was the mystery around his death. Because they never found his body or his plane, there was always a little seed of doubt in my mind, hope that went on for months. I know that's crazy, because he was over the Gulf of Mexico when his plane went down, and the search area was huge, but it's hard to let go when you don't have proof." She looked into his eyes. "That's why you can't let go of Liliana, because you don't know what happened to her. And I think there's a part of me that wants to find her because I can't find him. That sounds ridiculous—"

"No, I get it," he said, understanding her motives better now. "You're trying to give someone else closure, even if you can't find it yourself."

"Exactly. And I do believe that the lightning led me to the park so I could help. Maybe that's just so I can rationalize my obsession with electrical storms, but that's the way I feel."

"I want to believe it, too, Alicia."

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

He nodded. "I've never thought much about the weather until I met you."

"Most people don't."

"But my father told me once that people show up in your life when you need them. At the time, he was referring to my grandfather, who hadn't paid me much attention until he decided to bail me out of jail and send me to prep school." He paused. "I feel like you showed up in my life for a reason that I can't begin to understand, but for which I'm incredibly lucky."

She blinked her eyes against a sudden rush of tears.

"Hey, I didn't mean to make you cry again," he said.

"I really don't ever cry—except when I'm in Texas," she said, wiping her eyes.

He smiled at that. "Before we go back downstairs, do you have any photos of your dad?" He glanced around the room. "Or did only boy bands make the wall? The Jonas Brothers? Really?"

"They were cute."

"If you say so."

"I do have some pictures of my dad." She got up from the window seat and walked over to the bookshelf. She pulled a scrapbook off the shelf and brought it back to him. The book was weathered with age.

"This was my dad's book from when he was in the Navy. I took it out of my mom's room after he died, and she never took it back. I don't think she liked looking at it, being reminded of the past, but it brought me comfort." She opened the first page. "Here he is on the deck of a carrier."

"You look like him," he said, noting the man's dark hair and eyes, the lift of his chin, the smile in his eyes. "He looks like he's ready to take on the world."

"He was always ready to do that. He was a fearless flyer." She flipped through several more pages, pointing out important moments from her father's career, including a medal ceremony. "He received the Navy Cross for extraordinary bravery and heroism. He flew his plane into enemy territory to rescue two wounded soldiers. I remember asking him if he was scared, and he said, no, his mind was on the mission. He couldn't afford to be scared."