Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (28 page)

That was what he’d say …

“Shit.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Is that the right thing to say?”

I knew you didn’t want to go … and I didn’t want you to have to go alone if I could be with you
 …

This relationship crap was way too complicated. And they’d just gotten started.

He made it to the airport in record time. Now all he had to do was find Shay.

Lorna had already taken care of the ticket, but he wanted to make sure Shay was actually
on
this flight before he checked in. That way he could change it if needed.

With his duffel bag at his feet, he sent her a text, scanning the crowd every few seconds, hoping he’d see her.

Thirty seconds passed before she answered.

Just over two hours. That had to be the same flight. But just in case …

She texted back and added:

Then he tucked the phone away and went to check in. It took a while to get through security, but forty-five minutes later he was heading down the walkway, phone in hand. Once he saw her bent head, he sent her another text.

He watched her from the side of the corridor and as a faint smile curled her lips, it punched him straight in the gut. She texted him back.

He glanced down to read the message.

As she lifted her head, he shoved off the wall and started toward her. He saw the puzzled expression on
her face as she looked around, then the look in her eyes as she saw him—at first, delight, followed by dismay. Then she slumped back into the seat, her eyes closed. By then, he’d reached her. Dumping his duffel bag on the floor by her feet, he crouched down and rested his hands on her knees. “So. Are you mad?”

Shay scowled at him. “You make it kind of hard—being so understanding and all. I’d look like an ass if I got angry at you. Although where in the hell were you when you texted me?”

“Getting ready to check in.” He shrugged, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her knee. “I wanted to make sure I had the right flight—if it wasn’t, I’d change it.”

“That’s cheating.”

“We’re not really playing a game.” He studied her face another moment and decided she wasn’t mad. Moving to the seat next to her, he took her hand. “You don’t want to leave. I could hear it in your voice. I don’t want you leaving here if you’re not comfortable doing it. And I don’t really want to go a few days without seeing you.” He paused, and then softly, slowly, added, “Besides, all of this shit is crazy, and it’s getting crazier. I’d feel better if I could sort of watch your back.”

Shay glanced at him, that scowl still twisting her lips. “Don’t be so logical. I’m still trying to sulk here.”

“Why?” Stroking a hand through her hair, he cupped the back of her neck, digging his fingers into the tight muscles.

“Because I had myself all psyched up to do something that terrifies me and I was ready to do it, all by myself. Now I’m not. It feels like I’m being a coward.”

“Well, you didn’t ask for my help. If it makes it any easier, consider me an intruder or something.”

She made a face. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” With a groan, she shifted in the seat, leaning against him as well as she could with the armrest between them. “I’m kind of glad you’re here, though. If I had to be honest, I have to say I’m really glad you’re here.”

SIXTEEN

I
N SOME WAYS, THE NORTH OF
M
ICHIGAN LOOKED A
hell of a lot like Alaska.

And it was cold. Like Alaska.

As they came out of the terminal to find their rental car, Elliot sucked in a deep breath of air. Then he glanced at her. “Man, it feels like home.”

Shay shivered in her jacket and stared at the rows of cars. “She should have lived in Florida. That would have been a nice change.”

“Nah. That would be too easy.
Too
nice,” he told her, ambling toward the cars. “So did you find a nice, sexy little convertible for the balmy weather?”

She was pretty certain she had icicles dripping from her nose. “Since I wasn’t expecting this to be an
us
when I landed, sexy wasn’t on the brain. It’s an SUV.”

“Oh, even better. We can get some blankets and snuggle up in the back somewhere. I hear Michigan’s got some prime waterfront.” He gave her a playful leer and despite herself, she laughed.

“Are you trying to talk me into going somewhere to make out with you?”

“Yes.”

Shay grinned at him. “That could be fun.” Actually, she was rather certain it would be. It might be the only
fun they managed to get in, too, because she wasn’t expecting her confrontation with Darcy to go well.

“There it is,” Elliot said, pointing toward a rather bland-looking SUV. At least it was clean and in a few minutes, it would be warm. That was good enough.

“This is one boring-ass drive,” Elliot muttered. “I thought we’d at least see some lakes.”

Shay glanced at him. “Sorry.”

He smiled. “Hey,
you
didn’t tell her where to live, did you?” He jerked the wheel to the right, barely avoiding a pothole in the road. “Shit, this road
sucks
.”

“Yes.” Absently, she shivered. The cold really wasn’t bothering her—she was used to it. But as she and Elliot drove over that miserable, rutted excuse of a road, Shay realized she was shaking. Not from the cold, but from the fear. She wanted, so much, to knock on the door of the upcoming house and see Darcy with her own eyes, ask her if she was behind any of this.

Face to face, Darcy wouldn’t be able to lie, would she? She’d never been very good at it before. Shay had always known when her friend was being less than honest—it had shown on her face.

“This is killing me, you know,” she said quietly. Sighing, she rested her head on the back of the seat and fisted her hands in her lap. “It’s killing me.”

He reached over and laid a hand over hers, his thumb stroking her white knuckles.

“If I get there, and I see her, is she going to be able to actually lie to me? To my face?”

Swinging her head around to look at him, she asked again, “Is she?”

He sighed. “Shay, I don’t know. I’ve never met her … but some people can do it. Is she one of them?” He glanced at her for the briefest second before diverting his attention back to the road. “Some people can. Some
can’t. But is that why you’re going out to see her? Or is it because you need to look at her? Do you really need to ask her if she’s doing this … or do you already know?”

In the pit of her stomach, she felt very cold.

Closing her eyes, she drew her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to answer that. Not at all. “I want to be wrong.”

Blowing out a breath, she added softly, “I want to look at her and somehow know that I’m wrong.”

“But that’s not going to happen. And you know it. So why are you here?”

“Because I want to know why. Because I just have to see her.” No matter how much it hurt. At least she’d feel some sort of closure. Plus, she was going to get it through Darcy’s head that this shit would stop. Here and now. Because if Darcy didn’t stop, Shay was going to go postal on her.

“You got any idea what you’re going to say to her?” he asked.

“No. I don’t have the slightest clue.” With a nervous laugh, she added, “I gotta admit, I’m playing this thing completely by ear.”

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer, straight up, no thinking it through. Okay?” He slid her a glance.

Shay nodded.

“How do you think she’ll play it … assuming you’re right, and she is behind this?”

“She’s going to lie.” Then she groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Shit … 
shit
. This is a friend of mine. And I’m sitting here talking about something that could tear my life apart if she got away with it. How can that woman be a
friend
? And I’ll tell you this … if you’d asked me two years ago? Three? I’d tell you that there’s no way we’d be having this conversation.
But lately … lately, she’s just different. She’s the
same
, but she’s not. And the Darcy I know now would lie in a heartbeat.”

“What makes you think that?”

She looked down, staring at the hand he had on her thigh. Resting her hand on his, she twined their fingers and closed her eyes. “She … manipulates. She wasn’t always like that, but lately …”

With the knot in her throat trying to squeeze out the ability to speak, Shay paused to take a deep breath. As she did, Elliot turned over his hand and tightened his fingers around hers. “She manipulates me … or tries to. It wasn’t like that before, but over the past few years, she started doing it. She was so
obvious
about it, I could see it. I even called her on it a few times, told her to chill out. Now, thinking back, I think there were other things … subtler things that I didn’t see, and part of me wonders if she didn’t use the obvious shit to hide the subtle shit. Now here’s the really crazy part … it doesn’t make
sense
. Because that’s not the Darcy I remember. She couldn’t have manipulated me for anything. It just wasn’t in her.”

“Except that’s just what you said she’s doing.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand.

Amazing how such a light touch could be so soothing, so comforting.

“I know.” Closing her eyes, she gripped his hand in hers, squeezing it. “I feel like I’ve been played, and I never even knew it. You can’t imagine how sick this makes me feel.”

“You might be surprised.” Elliot’s voice went gruff, tight.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring out the windshield with a dark, distant expression on his face. “I might be able to understand better than you think.”

“How?”

He shook his head. “We’ll go into that later.” Nodding, he said, “I think we’re here.”

They came to a stop in front of a small house—small and run down but well cared for, it seemed—and got out. Shay could see what looked like flower beds, although it was hard to tell under the snow. That was weird. Darcy said she hated gardening shit; it was something they had in common—Darcy wouldn’t do it and Shay rarely tried, because of her allergies.

As the cold lashed them, she pulled up her hood and shoved her hands into her pockets.

“What do we do if she’s not here?” Shay asked. The driveway had a little red Corolla, but Darcy had said she drove an old, beat-up truck she’d had since high school.

“Then we come back,” Elliot said. He came around the car to stand beside her and hooked an arm around her neck. “Quit stalling.”

She couldn’t seem to move her feet, damn it. Wheezing out a choked breath, she forced herself to take one small step. Then another. Remembering what the porter had said back at the airport about baby-stepping it, she took bigger steps, and each one got easier.

By the time they hit the beat-up little porch, she’d found her resolve, and when she reached to knock on the door, she knew she’d done the right thing.

“You ready for this?” Elliot asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’ve got to know—even though in my gut I
do
, I have to ask her. I have to look at her face … I have to see what she has to say. And …”

He slid his hand inside the hood of her parka and touched the back of her neck. “You need to know how she knows your name. If she’s connected.”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him and murmured, “I’m glad you decided to show up at the airport, you know.”

If Darcy wasn’t here, then Shay would just come back. They’d get a hotel, and come back. It might be … interesting, she decided. She’d never stayed at a hotel with a guy—hell, she
rarely
stayed at one, period. Room service, sleeping in. Assuming she could sleep.

Why don’t you stop trying to distract yourself and just get this over with
?

Lifting her hand, she braced herself and knocked.

The door opened.

Shay froze as a pair of dark eyes, set in a wizened old face, met hers. “Yes?” The woman’s voice was soft, heavy with a Spanish accent.

“Ah, I’m looking for Darcy Montgomery.”

The woman frowned, puzzled, shaking her head. “There is no one by that name here …”

The pit of Shay’s stomach crashed, even though she’d been expecting this. All too aware of Elliot’s presence at her side, she kept the smile on her face as she said, “I think there’s some confusion going on with deliveries I’ve had coming here. I send packages here, regularly. My friend Darcy gets the packages, but if she doesn’t live here … did she move?”

The woman’s warm, honey-brown skin paled and something flickered in the dark depths of her eyes. “Ah, yes. The packages, yes. I receive packages, but I only hold them. They get picked up. There is no Darcy Montgomery. I’m sorry.” She tried to smile, but the smile wobbled and fell flat.