Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) (31 page)

His brows dipped.
“I’m sorry, is there a problem?”

“Your name,” Kylie
attempted to explain. “It’s Jason.”

He grinned at
her. “Well, actually, I already knew that, but thanks for the reminder.”

If he wasn’t so handsome, she might
have slugged him.

“Never mind.”
Hannah straightened her back. “What I need right now is my ticket. The one I
reserved. I’d appreciate it if you’d process the ticket and let me make my
flight in time.”

His fingers flew
across the keyboard, that same smile spread across his perfect face. Hannah was
ticked at his apparent amusement over their squabble. Kylie continued
schmoozing, hoping to get her way.

“Well, let’s see . . .
it looks like we have a solution to your problem here,” he offered. “The flight
is overbooked. Miss Brooks has a ticket, but there are no more seats
available.” He looked up at Kylie. “Sorry,” he said, obviously meaning it.

“Thank you,”
Hannah breathed, looking up at the ceiling, her appreciation aimed a lot
higher. She closed her eyes, then leveled them at Kylie. Of course Kylie was
still staring at
Jason.
The look on her face was all too familiar to
Hannah.

“Look, I know
there are ways to—”

He cut her off.
“Ordinarily, yes—normally there are ways to get you on that plane. But we’ve
already had to ask for volunteers to give up their seats. We’ve been tweaking
this thing for an hour now. I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do.” He
looked back at Hannah, his fingers continuing to tap the keys. “Miss Brooks, how
many bags will you be checking through today?”

“I can’t believe
this.” Kylie turned and stomped her way toward a seating area across from the
counter. She plopped down into a seat, crossed one leg over the other and swung
it wildly.

“Thank you . . .
Jason,” Hannah said after she completed her business.

“No problem. Your
flight departs in forty-five minutes from Gate 35. Thank you for flying Delta.”

She put her
billfold back in her purse and walked over to Kylie. “Want to grab some coffee
over at that Starbucks before I go through security?” Hannah continued walking,
not giving Kylie a chance to stew any longer. Kylie blew out an exasperated
sigh and caught up with her.

Hannah pulled her
hat down lower over her forehead and avoided looking anyone directly in the
eye. She was disappointed to see a long line at the Starbucks counter.
So
many people.
She slowed her gait as a knot of fear gripped her stomach
again.

“Come on,” Kylie
said softly, pulling her away from the crowd. She led her to a corner out of
the traffic and clusters of travelers.

“You wait here.
I’ll get us a couple of lattes. Just keep your head down.” With that, she
blended into the crowd and disappeared.

Hannah lowered
herself to the ground, leaning against the wall. She pulled her knees up
against her, wrapping her arms around her legs. She closed her eyes, uttering a
prayer for calm.

“Anyone here order
a vanilla latte?”

She looked up,
reaching for the familiar cup with the brown teddy around it. “That was fast.
Did you cut in line?”

“As if?” Kylie
slid down beside her, careful not to spill her cup as she plopped her backpack
between them. “Well, okay, maybe. I saw that hottie from my bio-chem class. Can
I help it if he wanted to chat? Next thing I know, I’m ordering and outta
there. Works like a charm.”

“You’re
incredible.”

“I know. How’s
your latte?”

Hannah lifted the
lid, inhaling the comforting aroma of the espresso blend then took a sip. “It’s
wonderful. Thanks, Kylie.”

“You’re welcome.
Look, Hannah, I’m really sorry.” Kylie spoke quietly, setting the cup on the
ground beside her. “With everything else, the last thing you needed was for me
to pull a tantrum in the ticket line. Geez. When will I ever learn?”

Hannah looked up,
casting a weary smile at her friend. She reached out, squeezing Kylie’s
shoulder. “Never. None of us ever learn. It’s just part of life. But I
appreciate what you were trying to do. I know you just want to help. But right
now, I need some time alone. I need to think all this through. Sort out my
feelings and try to get a grasp on everything. It’s been such a circus.”

Kylie leaned her
head back against the wall. “That’s an understatement. Good grief, Hannah. Your
life has been like that Montu rollercoaster at Busch Gardens. Don’t bother
riding it while you’re in Tampa. It would seem like a kiddy ride compared to
what you’ve been through lately.”

“Kylie, you have
to promise me something.”

“Oh sure—you won’t
let me go with you but now you expect me to make a bunch of promises?”

“Stop it. I’m
serious.”

“I know. I’m
sorry. So what’s this big promise I’ve got to make?”

“You’ve got to
swear to me that you won’t tell a soul where I am. I mean it. Not anybody. Not
Jim or anybody.”

“I’ll cover for
you at work. Don’t worry about that.”

“Just be really
careful not to let it slip, okay? I’m totally serious, Kylie. You saw the
press. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Okay, okay! I
promise! But classes start in a week. This is our last semester. You just make
sure you get back in time. Don’t blow it when we’re so close to graduation.”

She set down her
cup. “Geez. I forgot all about school.” She rubbed her face with her hands,
accidentally knocking off her sunglasses. Butterflies drifted through her as
she quickly replaced them. With the wall of legs and luggage which had quickly
surrounded them, she realized she was still safely out of sight.

“I’ll be back in
time. I refuse to let all this screw me out of graduation. Fortunately I have a
pretty light load this semester.”

“You sure you’re
going to be okay? I’m really worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine.
I’ll call you as soon as I get settled into my room. You’ve got the number,
right?”

“Yeah, it’s here
in my pocket,” she said, patting the pocket of her jean jacket. “And don’t
worry. I won’t tell a soul where you are. Where exactly is this place anyway?”

“Belleair Bluffs.
It’s a tiny little area sandwiched between Clearwater and St. Petersburg. It’s
a family-owned place right on the beach. We used to go there every summer when
we were little. Nothing fancy but quiet and secluded.”

“Okay, but now
it’s my turn to ask for a promise.” Kylie pulled her long red curls back into a
loose pony tail.

“What kind of
promise?”

“You have to
promise you’ll call me every day. Every single day, Hannah.”

“I will.”

“
And
 . . .
if you have any problems or just need some company, promise you’ll let me know.
I’ll be down there in a heartbeat.”

“I promise. You’re
the best, Kylie.”

“Yeah, well if I’m
so special then why are you leaving me here? I could use some sunshine about
now,” she laughed. “Sand between my toes . . . the warm ocean
breeze blowing across me as I work on my tan—”

“Ladies and
gentleman, Delta Flight 495 with service to Tampa is now boarding at Gate 35.”

“That’s my flight.
I better run.”

They stood up
simultaneously, Kylie handing Hannah her carry-on bag. “Just take care of
yourself, okay?” Kylie hugged her.

“I will. And thanks
for understanding.” She blinked the pesky tears gathering in her eyes. “I’ve
gotta go. Love you, Kylie.”

“Love you too,
Hannah. Don’t forget to bring me one of those lousy sea shells, okay?”

They hugged again and Hannah dashed
for the security gate.

Kylie stood
watching her until she passed through the security inspection. Hannah turned to
wave a final time then disappeared down the hall. “Well, back you go to your
dull and boring life,” Kylie mumbled as she turned to leave. “But who knows? Maybe
Johnny Depp will be waiting on your doorstep when you get home. Of course, with
your luck it’d be someone like Dwight from
The Office
.”

Smiling at her
joke, she approached the entrance noticing a flock of people rushing through in
a near stampede.

“You guys head
down that way; Mike—you come with me; Jeff, you and Craig take the other
concourse.” The guy giving the orders handed them each a paper. As Kylie passed
within a couple feet of them, she caught a glimpse of the flyer. There on a
wrinkled page was a color eight-by-ten of Hannah Brooks—a still shot from the
television freeze-frame that turned Hannah and Kylie’s day upside down.

“If you see her,
call me on my cell immediately. And whatever you do, do NOT let her get on an
airplane!”

“But you don’t
understand. It’s extremely important that I talk to Hannah.”

“Yeah, right lady.
You and everybody else in this hemisphere.”

“That’s just it.
I’m
not
everybody else!” Laura looked around the store then back at the
manager. She’d approached the man behind the service counter hoping to find out
if anyone knew where she could find Hannah. “Is there somewhere I could speak
to you in private?”

“Look, lady, I
don’t mean to be rude, but I have a store to run here. So if you have something
to say, you’ll just have to say it right here.” He returned his attention to the
schedule in front of him.

Laura sighed in
frustration. “Fine. Have it your way.” She leaned over the counter, her face
only a foot from his. “My name is Laura McKenzie. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Sure it does,” he
answered, peering over the glasses hanging on his nose. “And I’m Brad Pitt.
Nice to meet you.”

“Oh for heaven’s
sake,” Laura snapped. She plopped her purse on the counter, pulling out her
billfold. She flipped it open to her North Carolina driver’s license and shoved
it in front of him.

“That’s nice, Ms.
McKenzie. You’re the third Laura McKenzie in here today. Not to mention the two
Mrs. Michaels and six Mrs. Greers. You know, I have to be honest with you. If I
was a reporter, I think I could come up with something a little more original
than trying to pass myself off as Jason McKenzie’s
mom
.”

She held her
tongue, projecting steely eyes at the store manager. She jerked her billfold to
the wallet photos, pulled out a picture and held it up to him.

He studied the
picture. “This is real nice, lady, but—” He tilted his head closer for a better
look through his glasses. His face started to redden and he tried to smile.
“Well, now . . . that would sure enough be Jason McKenzie right
there with you. Everybody knows Chapel Hill’s favorite celebrity . . .
and can I assume that’s Mr. McKenzie as well?”

Laura plastered a
satisfied smile across her face. “Yes, that would be me with my husband and my
son
.”

Jim removed his
glasses while handing the picture back to her. He pinched the bridge of his
nose with his fingers. “I am
so
sorry, Mrs. McKenzie.”

“Laura.”

He smiled
sheepishly. “Laura. I hope you understand my position. Hannah’s like one of my
own kids. We’ve been inundated all day with these reporters looking for her,
and—well, I was only trying to protect her. I am truly sorry.”

Laura slowly put
the picture back in her billfold, returning it to her purse. “No problem. In
fact, I must apologize too. I’m not usually so pushy. But I’m terribly worried
about Hannah and she isn’t answering her cell phone. Is she here by any
chance?”

Laura was
touched by the genuine concern in his eyes. Walking around the counter, he held
out his arm, showing her to the break room. As he opened the door for her, a
young redhead ran into them—literally.

“Oh Jim, I’m
sorry! I didn’t—” She stood eyeball to eyeball with Laura. Then, with a sick
grin, she bolted without another word.

“Wait a minute!”
Laura called out to her. “You’re Hannah’s friend—I remember you from the other
day. Please—I need to talk to you.”