Читать книгу Enemy Within - AMANDA BROWNING, Amanda Browning - Страница 5

THE Crest Motor Hotel was a well known landmark in Prince Rupert, sitting on its bluff overlooking the harbour. Mickey had only ever admired it in passing. Entering the lobby, dressed in working clothes as she still was, made her feel that all eyes turned her way. Lord, how she hated that sensation! It plunged her back into another time, when every move she made had drawn avid attention, when she had felt the sting of shame burning her flesh and it had been as if a scarlet ‘A’ had been emblazoned on her forehead.

She had done everything she could to make sure that would never happen to her again, down to wearing non-feminine clothes, and yet, with a feeling of almost hysterical irony, she found herself once again the centre of attention. What was everyone thinking? That she and this handsome, incredibly sexy man were going upstairs to...? She battened down hard on the thought. She was getting paranoid. It was guilt talking. Guilt because she couldn’t ignore the attraction she felt. But only she knew that; everyone else was probably thinking she looked a mess!

Shakily she adjourned the mental court inside her brain which constantly sat in judgement of herself. Yes, it was her appearance which caused comment, and for the first time in years she regretted leaving her designer clothes behind. Tonight she could have done with the boost to her confidence that a fashionable suit would have provided.

As she followed in Ryan’s wake, paradoxically comforted by the thought, she quite missed the fact that the reason people turned to look was because of the natural pride and confidence in her bearing.

Ryan’s suite was on the top floor, above the hustle and bustle of the town, and walking into it was like entering a haven of peace. For all of thirty seconds. It took that long for Mickey to walk inside, take an appreciative look at the comfortable furnishings, and turn round. Whereupon she had the fortune, or misfortune, to be in time to see Ryan Douglas turn the key in the lock, before removing and pocketing it securely. The shock had her eyes swinging to his face to meet an expression so grim that her stomach lurched.

‘What are you doing?’ The question came out in a husky waver, and, dismayed to sound so wishy-washy, she dredged up enough steel to add demandingly, ‘Why have you locked us in?’

He chose not to answer immediately. Removing his hat and coat and tossing them on to a chair, Ryan strode menacingly towards her, halting almost painfully close. ‘Not us, Hanlon, just you. We have some talking to do, and I don’t want you running away.’

The statement was hardly designed to ease the erratic thumping of her heart. She had no idea what was going on, but she didn’t like it anyway. It was hard not to think of all those scary tales of kidnapping, but she told herself this was Ryan Douglas, not some thug. All the same, she was determined to camouflage her growing tension at finding herself in the midst of this new and startling situation.

‘Isn’t this a little extreme for talking over flight plans?’ she attempted to joke, while looking for a means of escape. It didn’t take long to realise they were too high up for there to be any safer exit than the door.

A fact Ryan was fully aware of, and, although he had taken the precaution of locking the door, he still kept himself between her and it. Moreover, he didn’t laugh. ‘Cut out the chit-chat and just tell me where they are,’ he commanded, in a voice which could have shattered rock at twenty paces.

If she’d hoped for instant enlightenment, at his words the darkness only deepened. Completely at a loss, she stared at him, deciding he was utterly mad, and wondering why nobody else had ever noticed it. Hadn’t someone once said the way to handle madmen was to humour them? It seemed to her to be a wise course.

She manufactured a faintly questioning smile. ‘You’ll have to tell me more than that. Where are what? What exactly are you talking about?’ she queried with as much concern as she could muster.

It went down like a ton of bricks. An angry hand slashed through the air, cutting her off so abruptly that she flinched. ‘You know damn well!’

Mickey struggled to make sense of it all. She could feel an incredible anger coming at her in waves. She had never experienced such violent animosity before, not even when the news of her involvement with Jean-Luc had broken, making her the butt of universal condemnation. All at once her knees began to tremble, and her heart to race. This sounded like trouble with a capital ‘T’, and she couldn’t even begin to defend herself until she knew the reason. So she had to continue fighting in the dark.

‘All I know is that you’re crazy! You lure me here under false pretences, lock me in, and then make irrational demands! Whatever you’re looking for, I haven’t got it!’ It was good to feel angry, for it smothered her anxiety.

Ryan moved like lightning to catch her by the shoulders and shake her roughly. ‘God, I should have known you’d be bloody perverse. You’re in it too, aren’t you? Right up to your sweet little neck!’

Though nothing made sense, when danger threatened Mickey acted instinctively. Her foot lashed out, the heavy boot connecting with his shin with a highly satisfactory thunk, and as he yelped and released her she had the presence of mind to quickly put herself out of range beyond the couch. From there she watched him rub his sore leg briefly before straightening to glare at her. She held up a faintly trembling hand to keep him at bay.

‘Stay right where you are, or, so help me, I’ll scream blue murder!’ she threatened, fully prepared to carry it out.

Ryan Douglas’s broad chest rose and fell sharply as he took a breath. He stayed where he was, but not because he was afraid of scandal, simply because it suited him better. Mickey swallowed nervously to moisten a mouth which had taken on the aspect of a particularly arid desert. Clearly he was battling a compulsive urge to throttle her, and it appeared to take a great effort for him to sound reasonable.

‘There’s no need for you to scream. If you don’t want to prolong this unpleasant interview, just tell me where Peter is...where they both are.’

There he went again! Did he think she was crazy too? If she had known she would have told him, just to get out of there. Unfortunately, Mickey was as much in the dark as ever. ‘Who is Peter, and who are “they”?’ she demanded helplessly, with predictable results.

Those incredible blue eyes narrowed. ‘You know, this pretence of ignorance is doing nothing for my patience, Hanlon,’ he said testily, then breathed in deeply. ‘OK, OK, if it will get me some answers I’ll go along with it. But be warned, my patience isn’t endless. Peter is Peter Douglas, my nephew.’

He could have said Rip Van Winkle for all the relevance it had to her. ‘Is that supposed to convey something?’ Edgily, she knew what reaction her response would receive.

His jaw clenched. ‘You’re darn right it should, because Peter is the man your precious sister has got her gold-digging claws into!’

Mickey was stunned. Of all the answers she might have imagined, that had never occurred to her. ‘Leah?’ An awful foreboding clenched her heart as she recalled her own concern over the lack of communication with her sister.

At her mention of the name, a grim smile twisted his lips. ‘So you haven’t forgotten everything,’ he drawled nastily. ‘Yes, Leah. Your scheming sister has got Peter so besotted, he’s run off with her! But let me tell you something: if she thinks she’s got a meal-ticket for life, she’s got another think coming!’

Shock rapidly gave way to anger, which welled up like a volcanic eruption. ‘Hold it! Who do you think you’re calling a gold-digger?’ she challenged violently, seeing in her mind’s eye the sweet face of her young half-sister. Gold-digger? If anything, Leah was quite dismayingly unworldly.

‘What else would you call a woman who convinces a man to run off with her after five minutes’ acquaintance?’

She didn’t fully understand the situation, but she knew Leah was under attack, and that was enough. Like a tigress coming to the defence of her young, Mickey balled her hands into fists. ‘Don’t you dare say another word, Ryan Douglas, because you’ve got hold of the wrong girl. My sister Leah has not run away with anyone. She’s studying for her degree at university.’ True enough, but that niggle of doubt increased. Why hadn’t Leah been in touch?

An eyebrow rose mockingly. ‘Really? Well, believe it or not, she’s found a new career,’ he sneered.

The gibe brought an angry growl to her throat. ‘Well, I don’t believe you! Leah hasn’t mentioned anyone to me. I know my sister, and deceit is beyond her. I don’t know this Peter, but, if he’s anything like you, then it’s my belief that any seducing has been done by your own precious nephew!’ Mickey charged back fiercely, rounding the couch to square up to him.

‘Peter isn’t the one who needs money. He has enough of his own, as if you didn’t know!’ he put in caustically.

Mickey felt ready to explode. ‘I don’t know, and Leah doesn’t need money either!’ She had inherited a considerable sum from both her mother and her father, and could expect vastly more from her grandmother.

Ryan remained distinctly unimpressed by her avowal. ‘That isn’t the impression I got from looking around your business this afternoon. If I’ve ever seen a building in urgent need of repair, then that was it!’ He laughed derisively.

Hot colour washed in and out of her cheeks. ‘Damn you, Leah has nothing to do with my business! Which doesn’t need your money either, just a fresh coat of paint and a nail or two! I’ve been waiting for the time, and the money, to do the repairs,’ she lied bravely, only to see his lip curl.

‘Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I didn’t have your financial status checked out? You’re barely keeping your head above water, Hanlon. If your sister has money, which I doubt, then it isn’t in the quantity you need. Only a large slice of the Douglas fortune is going to bail you out!’

Mickey paled at the knowledge of just how much he knew about her lack of funds, but it didn’t alter one basic fact. ‘If you say I need the money, then why are you calling Leah the gold-digger?’ she demanded hoarsely.

The look in his eyes wasn’t flattering. ‘Who would fall under your spell, Hanlon? You needed Leah to bait the trap, and, once you’d caught Peter, your loving sister would hand over all that lovely money to you!’

Her colour rose with her chin. ‘It sounds very plausible, but you’re wrong on every count! There is no plot—at least, not with my family. I don’t know how you came by your erroneous information, but, whoever your nephew has run off with, it certainly isn’t my sister,’ she protested hardily.

Ryan watched her closely for a moment, as if deciding whether he could get away with what he would really like to do, then swung on his heel and went to pour himself a drink. ‘Tell me, did your father have more than one daughter named Leah?’

Never taking her eyes off him for a moment, Mickey crossed her arms defensively. ‘Of course not! But the name Leah is hardly uncommon. Why pick on us?’

Draining a glass of whisky, he walked back to her. ‘Because that was the name Peter gave in his letter. However, as I don’t expect you to believe me, you can read it for yourself.’ He produced the missive from his shirt pocket, rather like a conjurer.

She accepted the letter, but held it as if it might bite her. However, after reading only the first paragraph, Mickey slowly sank down on to the couch, and started from the top. Whoever Peter was, the girl he described certainly sounded like her sister—A black-haired, dark-eyed angel, who loved him for himself. But he knew his uncle wouldn’t approve, so they were going away together. Nobody was to worry; they would come back when they were ready. There was more in the same vein. When she reached the end, Mickey looked up at the now silent man who stood before her.

The heat of anger had died out of her, leaving her, for the moment, uncertain. She clung to the rug, lest it be pulled completely out from under her feet. ‘There has to be some mistake. Leah would never just run off like that!’ She wouldn’t not get in touch either, but you know she hasn’t, Mickey told herself silently.

‘You know her so well?’

Considering she hadn’t even known of her sibling’s existence until eight years ago, Mickey deemed it wisest not to answer that, even though, in her heart, her answer would have been an emphatic yes. ‘You’re wrong. I know you are. Leah is at the university,’ she declared with all the assurance she could muster. If she could use the phone, she’d prove it.

Ryan dropped another bombshell. ‘No, she isn’t. She hasn’t shown up for classes for the past three weeks.’

The absolute conviction in his voice was enough to startle Mickey. ‘Three weeks!’ she exclaimed in dismay, wishing she could argue, but knowing this, at least, had to be true. Because he could only have found out by checking with the faculty.

Ryan, on the other hand, derived no such certainty from her tone. ‘Do you really expect me to believe you didn’t know?’

She glared at him, having had more than enough of his vile accusations regarding both herself and her sister. ‘If you think I’d calmly sit by while my sister ruined her life, you’re very much mistaken!’ Three weeks! Exactly the length of time since Leah had last called her! Surely her sister couldn’t have done anything so foolish as to run off with a strange man?

Ryan snorted disgustedly. ‘Hardly ruined. Peter must be worth half a million dollars at the last count. Not that he can get his hands on it until he’s twenty-five, which might not amuse your sister at all. I imagine she’s been having a whale of a time deciding just how she’ll spend it.’

At that, Mickey shot to her feet, thrusting the crumpled letter back at him. ‘I refuse to listen to any more of this! If Leah isn’t at the university, then she’s with her grandmother.’ That had to be the explanation. She just knew Leah wouldn’t have done any of what this vile man was suggesting. The trouble was, reference to Grandmother Sophie was hardly likely to instil unqualified confidence. Not that she’d reveal her doubts for the world! No, there was a solid-gold reason for her sister not being at the university, and she was going to find out just what it was!

However, before she could say so, her protagonist was exclaiming, ‘Grandmother?’ in a tone which implied she had caught him off balance for once.

Mickey couldn’t hide her look of triumph. ‘You didn’t know about her, did you? It seems you don’t know everything!’

He sent her a stony look, then marched across to the telephone. Lifting the receiver, he held it out to her. ‘OK, ring her and ask her if Leah’s there.’

She would have loved to—anything to rub his nose in it—but it was impossible. ‘I can’t. Sophie doesn’t have a phone.’ Wouldn’t, was actually a truer word. Her eccentricities were as ever, impractical.

With a muttered oath, Ryan crashed the receiver back into the rest, and gathered up his coat. ‘Then we’ll go and pay her a visit. Where does she live?’

He was already slipping his arms into his jacket as her jaw dropped. ‘You’re crazy. She lives clear over in Kitimat. It will take ages to get there!’

For all the notice he took, she might have been saying Leah’s grandmother lived on the moon. He merely proceeded to unlock the door. ‘I came here with the express purpose of bringing Peter home. I have no intention of leaving without him, nor will I give you the chance to warn anyone by waiting until tomorrow!’

It was like batting her head against a brick wall. And Mickey stamped her foot in exasperation. ‘Don’t you listen to a word I say? I’m not involved in a conspiracy. You’ve been reading too many spy novels.’

Over his shoulder, his look was pitying. ‘Having been found out, you’d hardly be likely to admit to anything. Of course, if what you’re trying to do is keep me from discovering Leah isn’t where you say she is, then I’ll just draw my own conclusions.’

Mickey couldn’t think how she had ever thought this man attractive! He was loathsome. Everything she said was turned around to suit his purpose. Nothing would do but to show him how wrong he was to his face. ‘All right, we’ll go,’ she agreed grudgingly, and joined him at the door.

His smile was sardonic. ‘I’m glad to see you’re an intelligent woman, Hanlon.’

She sent him a daggers look. ‘If I’d had any intelligence, I’d have seen you coming!’

‘You’d have to get up very early in the morning to get the better of me,’ he advised ironically, locking the door after them and ushering her back to the lift.

‘It can’t be that difficult, if your nephew managed to do it,’ Mickey observed pungently.

‘He hasn’t got away with it yet,’ he reminded her, and she pulled a face.

‘How old is he?’

‘Twenty-three.’

From the way his uncle had come rushing after him, she’d assumed he was much younger. ‘A little old, wouldn’t you say, to be kept on a leading rein?’ she jeered, not surprised the young man wanted to break free.

The lift arrived, and they stepped inside before Ryan answered. ‘He has his freedom, within reason.’

‘The boundary of reason being the things you do or don’t like,’ she scorned, finding herself reluctantly empathising with the runaway.

‘I’m not about to apologise for keeping him out of the clutches of female barracudas,’ he informed her shortly, and took her arm as they reached the ground and headed out of the building to where the jeep had been parked earlier.

She resented being manhandled, and tried to jerk herself free, but failed once more. Grinding her teeth impotently, she found herself almost having to jog to keep up with him. Even so, she found the breath to protest. ‘I’ve told you before about lumping my sister in with such people!’

‘Sorry,’ he apologised mockingly, ‘but I’ve yet to hear anything to change my opinion. Get in.’ This last came as they reached the disreputable vehicle.

‘Where did you get this—a junk heap?’ she bit out witheringly as she resisted.

‘Never judge by appearances; this piece of junk is a lot more reliable than you, sweetheart. Now are you going to get in or...?’

Mickey only complied because she knew he would have put her in by force if she had refused, and she wanted to retain at least some dignity. Besides, the quickest way of proving he was mistaken, she hoped, was to get to Grandmother Sophie’s as swiftly as possible. So she settled into her seat without another word, and gave him directions for leaving the town.

Once on Highway 16, her attention was only partially on the journey; the main part of her brain became centered on Leah. When she had first come in search of her father, she had been surprised but delighted to discover she had a half-sister. She had known Leah for eight years now, and loved her dearly, although she hadn’t seen her every day, because she lived with her paternal grandmother. Their father’s death eighteen months ago had been a shock to both of them. He had seemed so fit, but he must have known he had cancer for a long time. It had been then that her sister had decided she wanted to study medicine.

Although they had jointly inherited the house she now lived in, Mickey alone had inherited her father’s business, and that had helped her cope with her sense of loss. It hadn’t seemed a burden, more an acknowledgement of her own capabilities. Although their years together had been short, Mickey had discovered a closeness of spirit with her father which had been totally lacking with her mother. He had never asked her why she had abandoned the only life she had known, but she had told him anyway. He hadn’t judged or advised, but had simply accepted her, and given her an unquestioning love which had gone a long way to healing her wounds. She had developed her own love of flying from being taught by her father. He had been delighted when she had gone on to show her interest in his business, and they had worked together happily, Mickey discovering a capacity for hard work into which she had channelled all her energies.

Leah had a gentler nature, although it was allied to a surprising strength of will, and a deep understanding of the frailties of her fellow humans, both of which she would need if she realised her wish to study medicine and become a doctor. It wasn’t a whim, but a vocation, and that was why Mickey knew it just couldn’t be Leah who had run away with Ryan’s nephew. She was so dedicated, so sure of what she wanted. It would never occur to her to throw it all away on some...playboy millionaire!

‘You’re wrong, you know.’ The statement was an extension of her thoughts, and broke the lengthy silence which had fallen.

He spared her a brief glance, and seemed to know immediately what she was referring to. ‘It’s for sure one of us is doomed to be disappointed,’ he concurred obliquely, and Mickey found herself studying his handsome profile with resentment.

Rather late in the day, a vital point struck her. ‘You never intended to take any photographs, did you?’

She caught the slight flexing of his cheeks which indicated he was smiling. ‘Not this trip, although I do have plans for the future.’

His smugness was so galling! ‘Wouldn’t you call that breach of contract? I could sue you, too,’ she declared, thinking of all the preparations which had had to be made. The company’s outlay had been quite considerable at a time when it could be ill afforded.

‘I take it from your remark that you didn’t read the small print? That was careless, Hanlon,’ he tutted reprovingly, stirring the hardly settled ashes of her anger.

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning I contracted to use an aircraft and pilot of Hanlon Air “for an unspecified time”. Which, roughly translated, means if I don’t use you, I don’t have to pay you.’

To his credit, he didn’t sound as if he was gloating, but she felt as furious as if he had been anyway. For she had indeed read that clause, and had taken it to mean the trip was open-ended. In fact she had been working on the probability that he would need her for at least a week, and perhaps even two. Now she knew better, and her hatred of him grew in leaps and bounds. Because he had to have known how she would take it, how anyone would take it.

Although it wasn’t the end of the world, the sense of being manipulated made her feel as if it was. ‘Very clever,’ she said bitterly. ‘I hope you can sleep nights.’

This time he sent her a longer look, laden with scepticism. ‘Trying to tell me you wouldn’t have used my name as an advertisement for more trade?’ he queried softly, and she flushed, squirming a little in her seat, even though it was common practice.

‘At least it would have been honest. You can’t say the same.’

‘War is a dirty business, Hanlon. Take it from one who knows,’ he returned shortly, and clearly brought down a wall between them, concentrating on his driving.

Mickey had nothing to say either, spending the remainder of the journey looking forward to seeing his face when he was proved wrong. It was likely to be the only satisfaction she had out of the whole fiasco. Ryan kept to the maximum speed limit, and consequently it took less time to reach Leah’s grandmother’s house than usual. The lights were on when he finally drew the jeep to a halt outside the faded elegance of the three-storey building, and Mickey wasted no time, jumping down before the vehicle had properly stopped moving and hurrying up the path to knock on the door.

Sophie Trenchard opened the door herself, her statuesque frame swathed in a colourful lounging robe. Her look of irritation changed to a broad smile when she saw who her visitor was.

‘Mickey!’ she greeted warmly. ‘What a lovely surprise. I was in the middle of a book, and just about to throw a tantrum for being interrupted mid-flow!’ she added, with a wicked grin, because her penchant for behaving less maturely than befitted her years was legendary. The grin turned to a look of intrigue when a tense and grim-faced Ryan came to stand in the light issuing from the door.

Mickey returned the hug she had been swept into, feeling quite relieved to have an erstwhile ally within call. Smiling up at the older woman, she realised with a faint qualm that Sophie had apparently taken to wearing pince-nez. ‘Hello, Sophie. I’ve come to see Leah.’

The cheerful smile reappeared on the grey-haired lady’s face and didn’t flicker. ‘Isn’t that nice? Come in, come in.’

Mickey felt her heart surge anew, and threw Ryan an ‘I told you so’ look over her shoulder before stepping inside.

‘Is this your new man, Mickey?’ the old lady asked forthrightly, eyeing the breadth and height of her adopted granddaughter’s companion with unabashed interest, while Mickey stiffened in instant rejection.

‘No!’ The denial shot out hurriedly as she caught a wicked glint of amusement in Ryan’s eyes. ‘No. This is Ryan Douglas. He’s come to see Leah, too.’ Reluctantly she made the necessary introductions.

‘Mrs Trenchard,’ Ryan greeted politely as he shook hands.

‘Dear boy, call me Sophie. Mickey will tell you I’m never one to stand on ceremony. I was the despair of my family!’ Sophie Trenchard invited, leading the way into a cluttered lounge.

‘Will Leah be long?’ Mickey asked firmly, knowing how dangerous it was to let Sophie take the conversation in an altogether different direction. She assumed her sister was out, because if Leah had been in she would have come to greet them before this. It brought a return of that small niggle of doubt to her mind.

Sophie waved an airy hand. ‘She said they would come back soon. Sit, Mickey. Can I get you some coffee, Ryan? Or some brandy, perhaps? Thaddeus left some here when he went away...or was it Matthew? They were twins, you see, and I never can remember which is which,’ she explained, making Mickey stare at her long and hard, because Sophie wasn’t at all dippy; she just pretended she was when there was an advantage to be gained. Just what the advantage was this time, she didn’t yet see.

Across the room, Ryan shook his head. ‘No, thank you,’ he refused with a polite smile, although his eyes narrowed.

Mickey groaned inwardly, well aware of the impression he was getting, whereas the men in question were brothers who had lodged with Sophie one summer when their family home was full to bursting. She was on the verge of pointing this out when Ryan carried on speaking.

‘You say Leah isn’t here?’ The question was mild enough, but Mickey was aware of the steel behind the words.

Sophie dislodged a cat from an armchair and sat down, nodding wisely. ‘Leah and her young man have gone away for a while, but they’ll be back when they’re ready,’ she revealed, seemingly unaware of just what a bombshell she had dropped.

For a moment Mickey was totally speechless, but not so Ryan. ‘Does her young man have a name?’

‘Of course. Peter Douglas. Ah...’ Suddenly she made the connection, although she wasn’t in the least put out. ‘Your son?’

‘My nephew,’ Ryan corrected grittily, and Mickey was very much aware that he was holding a monumental anger in check solely because of the older woman. She knew he was thinking there weren’t just two women involved, but three!

‘A nice boy. I like him. He has a good heart. He’ll do well for our Leah,’ Sophie declared with satisfaction. ‘You don’t find young men of his standing turning up in our neck of the woods every day of the week.’

Ryan’s face became stony. ‘No, indeed you don’t. Only a fool would let a wealthy young man get away,’ he declared grimly, and not very subtly.

It appeared to go right over her head, for Sophie merely blinked at him over her glasses. ‘Fortunately Leah has no need for money, unlike Mickey. I don’t suppose you know of a wealthy man for her to marry?’ she asked, much to Mickey’s horror.

‘Sophie!’ she protested, knowing it was the older woman’s idea of a joke, but knowing too that Ryan was not the man to appreciate it any more than she did. However, just the mere fact of her having said it meant Sophie was covering something up. ‘I don’t need a husband!’

‘But you do need the money, dear.’

Mickey took one look at Ryan’s grim expression and could have screamed. ‘We weren’t talking about me, Sophie. How could you let Leah go off? What about her studies?’

The older woman tutted. ‘There will be time for them, Mickey. Where’s your heart, child? Leah loves this young man, and right now she wants to acknowledge her commitment to him. You’re her sister; surely you must understand that.’

But I don’t, she wanted to shout. How could Leah do this? How could she throw away everything? How could Sophie allow it? Mickey had learnt a great deal about Leah’s grandmother’s rather eccentric views, and had come to accept it as normal—for her. Yet she had never expected her sister would act so recklessly.

However, there was nothing she could say, because clearly the other woman saw nothing to worry about. She sighed. Sophie, for all her worldliness, seemed sublimely unconcerned by all the pitfalls lying in wait for the unwary. Because she liked him, it would never occur to her that this man she saw as estimable might be far from that ideal. Which explained why she was acting the way she was. She had probably even expected such a visitation, and had promised to help! Sophie positively thrived on romantic intrigue.

Mickey knew from past experience that there was little point in trying to pierce Sophie’s dippy persona with a frontal attack. Once in place, she could keep it up indefinitely, especially when the person for whose benefit it was being put on was in the room. There was to be no help in that direction, unless she could get Sophie alone, and that meant ditching Ryan Douglas. Right now, she didn’t know how that was to be done.

‘Did they say where they were going?’ she asked tonelessly, trying to salvage something.

‘The islands,’ Sophie vouchsafed with a smile, unconcerned by just how vague a direction that was.

For the first time ever, Mickey felt her palms itch, and she eyed the other woman in exasperation. ‘Which islands? The Queen Charlottes?’

Sophie shrugged, eyes limpid and innocent. ‘They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask,’ she replied, and Mickey had to stifle a gasp hastily when for a moment their eyes clashed and Sophie’s were as clear as crystal and openly challenging.

‘How long have they been gone?’ Ryan asked with studied politeness, and, although Mickey could feel the tension in him, she had to marvel at his self-control.

The older woman removed her pince-nez and polished them vigorously. ‘Two...three weeks.’

‘And they haven’t contacted you in all that time?’ Ryan challenged disbelievingly.

‘It didn’t seem so long. When you get old, you don’t count the time.’

If Mickey hadn’t already known it, that alone would have told her that Sophie knew a great deal more than she was saying. She might disdain telephones, but she was a keen radio ham. Leah spoke to her grandmother every day without fail, and Sophie was probably waiting for a call right now! Unfortunately, if she was determined to stay close-mouthed, even a can opener wouldn’t prise her open.

Ryan took the statement stoically, rising to his feet agilely. A poker-faced Mickey followed suit. ‘My grandmother used to say much the same thing, but that was because she didn’t want to be held to account for her sins.’

Sophie was not a whit put out, and fairly bounced to her feet. ‘Young man, I’m too old to worry about sin!’

He eyed her steadily for a long time, then said softly, ‘Perhaps so, but I’ll assume you have a conscience. So if by some...miracle...your granddaughter does get in touch, have her tell Peter he’s needed at home. Now I’m sure you’ll forgive us for having to rush off,’ he added with heavy irony.

‘You’ll come again when Leah and Peter return?’

‘Oh, I think you can safely bet money on that, Sophie,’ Ryan drawled with grim amusement, shaking her hand and heading for the door.

Mickey was once more enfolded in a warm embrace.

‘That’s one angry man, Mickey.’

‘Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so angry if you’d told him everything,’ Mickey challenged, looking the older woman straight in the eye.

Sophie laughed. ‘Dear child, what can you mean?’

Exasperated, Mickey sighed. ‘You’re sending me on a wild-goose chase, and I don’t appreciate it.’

‘Then you should. There’s colour in your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye, Mickey. Ask yourself who put them there. Now run along. He’s not the sort I’d want to keep waiting, although you seem to be blooming on it!’ Sophie declared softly, and Mickey sent her a startled look.

‘You haven’t heard the last of it. I’ll be back, on my own, and I’ll expect answers!’ she declared, before going to join the man standing impatiently on the porch.

Ryan didn’t utter a word until they were once more in the jeep and on their way back to the city. ‘She’s quite a character.’

She wondered if he realised just how much of a character Sophie was, and found out in the next second.

‘Getting the facts out of her is like trying to wade through treacle! Those two don’t need an army when they’ve got Sophie Trenchard on their side!’

His perception brought a reluctant smile to her lips. ‘One of a kind,’ she acknowledged wryly, and he laughed, so that it seemed for a moment they were in accord. Mickey found it strangely unsettling.

‘One is quite sufficient. Hell, they could be anywhere, and the only one who knows is pretending she lives in Cloud-cuckoo-land!’ he growled, thumping his fist on the steering-wheel. ‘Not that you seem to be surprised, Hanlon. Were you banking on her running interference for you? Are you still going to insist you knew nothing about it?’

That brief moment of empathy vanished. ‘If I had, we wouldn’t be sitting here now! I don’t know how your sainted nephew managed to seduce my sister, but I’m going to put a stop to it. Damn him; Leah had everything going for her until he came along!’ Mickey cried wrathfully.

Beside her, Ryan laughed grimly. ‘Well, they say it’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow somebody something good. Look on the bright side, Hanlon. I’m going after them, and you’re going to take me. So it looks as if you’re going to get paid after all.’