Читать книгу Tailspin - Cara Summers - Страница 11

Five minutes earlier…

WITH NERVELESS FINGERS, Bianca Quinn handed the keys of her car over to the valet.

“Welcome to Fortune Mansion, Miss Quinn.”

At her surprised look, he smiled. “Ms. Fortune said you’d be arriving right about now. She asked us to keep an eye out for you. Just follow the lighted path around the side of the house. The party’s in the garden and you’re in plenty of time for the birthday cake. Enjoy.”

Enjoy. Maybe she could once she got through this first meeting with Nash Fortune. The path was only a few feet to her right, and she could hear the sound of laughter and the faint strains of Vivaldi. But for a moment she simply couldn’t make herself move.

She’d read about déjà vu, but she’d never before realized the physical impact it might have. For just an instant she felt transported back in time to that fateful day eleven years ago when she’d stood on this very spot. She’d sensed then that her life was about to change.

It had.

And she felt the same way now.

As ridiculous as it was, she couldn’t immediately shake off the feeling, nor could she seem to drag her gaze away from the Fortune Mansion’s stone and glass facade.

But she would no longer allow it to intimidate her. The new bargain she’d struck with Maggie Fortune was entirely different from the one she’d made eleven years ago when she’d promised to disappear from Nash Fortune’s life. The new one was strictly business. She was going to research and write a history of the Fortune family in Colorado.

A family saga wasn’t the type of book she usually wrote. And as lucrative as Maggie’s offer was, she would have turned it down if it hadn’t been for two things. First, she was intrigued by the story, sketchy as it was, of the two Fortune brothers who’d discovered gold in the 1860s and started a dynasty. She had a gut feeling that if she just dug a little deeper, she would find something, and her hunches were seldom wrong.

Her second reason for accepting Maggie’s deal was one that the woman had pointed out to her—she could kill two birds with one stone. She had to come to the Denver area anyway to begin seriously researching her latest true crime book—the real story behind the disappearance of Cadet Brian Silko from the Air Force Academy more than a decade ago. Just as she had with her first book, she would visit the scene of the crime, so to speak—in this case, the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.

Not that she was sure a crime had been committed. But she had a strong hunch that there had been some kind of cover-up. And it might still be going on. When she’d called the superintendent of the Air Force Academy to ask for an interview concerning Brian’s disappearance, he’d refused to even speak with her on the phone. In her experience, when someone didn’t want to talk, it was because they had something to hide.

And the person who’d sent her the three anonymous notes agreed.

She hadn’t thought of Brian Silko in years. Not until two months ago when she’d been doing a book-signing in a Barnes & Noble in Chicago. Out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen a tall young woman with dark hair slip a note under a pile of her books. The message had been concise: “For your next book, why don’t you find out the true story behind Cadet Brian Silko’s disappearance from the Air Force Academy eleven years ago?”

Of course, she’d recognized the name right away. Brian had been a year ahead of her in junior high and she’d interviewed him for an article in the school newspaper. It was right before his family had moved to Phoenix. Her story had focused on Brian’s love of flying and his dream of one day attending the Air Force Academy.

Brian Silko had achieved his dream. He’d been in Nash’s class their freshman year at the academy. They’d both played for the Falcons, the academy’s football team. Then in the spring, Brian had stolen a small plane from the airfield and completely vanished.

It had been all over the news. She and Nash had talked about it, of course, but they’d been too involved with each other to pay much notice. No one had discovered why Brian had done what he’d done. And no one had ever found him or the wreckage of the plane.

The second anonymous note, postmarked from Denver, had been sent to her editor a few days later. He’d urged her to at least do some preliminary research. But she’d already started on that. Brian’s mother had died a year ago, and she’d hadn’t been able to locate his sister yet. What she’d found in the press coverage hadn’t been anything more than she’d known at the time. No one seemed to know why Brian had suddenly stolen that plane or where he might have gone. And within a month, the press had forgotten about him.

So had she for over a decade.

Bianca had been well and truly hooked when the third note arrived bearing the postmark of the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs—it stated that Brian was alive. If that was true, why hadn’t he been found or come forward? And what had made him give up his dream of graduating from the Air Force Academy? There was a story here all right, and she was going to start by locating the people who’d known Brian the year he’d disappeared. One of those people was Nash Fortune.

And you’re afraid to see him again.

Bianca drew in a deep breath and let it out. She was being ridiculous. She had nothing to fear from Nash Fortune because she was no longer that naive seventeen-year-old girl who could be completely swept away by what she felt for a man. Nor was she that young girl with a dream of one day becoming a published writer.

She was a writer. “A top-rate investigative journalist,” one of her reviews had read. Her first book, Cover Up, had made the Times extended list and her publisher had already accepted the proposal for her second book on Brian Silko.

Straightening her shoulders, she shifted her gaze to the path leading to the garden. All she had to do was focus on her work. Nash’s current teaching assignment at the Air Force Academy could prove to be very helpful. At the very least, he could share his insights into the kind of person Brian had been. And like his grandmother, Nash could open doors for her by putting her in contact with others at the academy who might know something. What had happened between them had ended long ago. Water under the bridge. He’d certainly forgiven her by now for running away.

Perhaps he’d even forgotten her. They’d been young and foolish and totally unsuited for one another. Her Aunt Molly, the woman who’d raised her from the time she’d been orphaned at the age of three, had been a cleaning woman at the St. Francis Center for Boys. Nash Fortune had been the grandson of one of the richest women in the United States.

But you haven’t forgotten him, nagged that little voice again.

Maybe not. Nash had been her first love. A woman always remembered her first. There was the guilt factor, too. She’d been the one to call things off. She was the one who’d run away.

That was why she was making the whole thing into a mountain—and Nash would be viewing it as a molehill. Surely, now that they were both adults who were living their dreams, he would see that she’d made the right decision.

Still, she’d taken money for what she’d done. She might not have signed the papers and taken Maggie’s check if Father Mike Flynn hadn’t been there standing at the older woman’s side. And they’d made it so easy for her. All she had to do was leave a note for Nash near the statue of St. Francis in the little prayer garden at the center.

And it wasn’t just money Maggie had offered her. It had been an acceptance letter from a college in the Boston area where she could major in writing. There’d also been a job for her Aunt Molly in one of Maggie’s companies that had a branch office in Cambridge. Maggie Fortune was as skillful as the serpent in Eden when it came to offering the right bait.

Bianca fisted her hands at her sides. Bribe or not, she’d been right to do what she’d done. She’d gone off to college and Nash had been able to continue at the Air Force Academy without the burden of a teenage wife in Denver.

No matter that it had hurt so much at the time. Nor that there was a little place in her heart that still ached.

The important thing was that they’d both achieved their dreams and might not have if she hadn’t made that bargain eleven years ago.

So what are you so afraid of?

Good question.

She pressed a hand to her stomach and willed her nerves to settle. She had a plan. She’d arrived in Denver two days ago, settled herself in a hotel, and even visited the Colorado Springs Police Department to look over their files on the Silko disappearance. Tonight’s meeting with Nash was just another step. She’d set up an interview with him and use the time to probe his relationship with Brian as well as his position as the sole heir to the Fortune riches.

A few days from now she was going to laugh about what a non-issue meeting him again had turned out to be.

Stepping away from the willow tree, she strode down the path toward the laughter and the music. The important thing was to find out what had really happened to Cadet Brian Silko and write his story.

The moment she stepped onto the flagstone terrace, Bianca paused to scan the crowd. She had to hand it to Maggie Fortune. The woman knew how to throw a party. At the far end of the pool, she caught a glimpse of the musicians, and she thought they’d switched to Mozart. But it was hard to tell above the laughter and conversation.

White-jacketed waiters carrying trays of fluted glasses cut paths through the clusters of guests. She spotted a senior state senator whose name frequently made the news. She was pretty sure she recognized an aging film star she’d had a crush on when she was thirteen, and there were at least two men who’d retired from hosting network evening news.

“Miss Quinn?”

Bianca turned to a tall, very distinguished-looking man at her side. She guessed him to be in his early seventies. He had gray, thinning hair, and in his perfectly tailored gray suit, he reminded her of the actor Walter Pigeon, who’d appeared in the original Thin Man movies.

“I’m Grady, Ms. Fortune’s house manager. She’s stepped inside for a moment and she asked me to greet you in her place. You’ll find Father Flynn and some other people you might remember over on the other side of the pool.”

“Thank you.” Bianca started to thread her way in the direction that Grady had pointed, but it took her a few moments before she spotted Father Mike. The instant he saw her, he smiled and waved. At once, something inside of her eased.

She’d originally met him through her Aunt Molly. On Saturdays, she’d frequently helped her aunt to clean the St. Francis Center. At the end of her junior year in high school, Father Mike had offered her the job of writing the newsletter for the center. It had been her first official writing job, and she could never thank him enough for the opportunity.

Working on the newsletter had also given her the opportunity to get to know him, and he was the kindest and most truly holy person she’d ever met. He’d even taken the time to fly east to visit her and her aunt during the first few years she’d been in college. And when her aunt had passed on two years ago, he’d flown in to say the funeral mass.

As Bianca began to weave her way toward him, she shifted her gaze to the people he was with. That was all it took to set her nerves dancing again. The pretty young woman was a stranger, but in spite of the passage of time, she recognized the two men immediately. Gabe Wilder and Jonah Stone had been Nash’s best friends at the St. Francis Center.

Gabe wore black. That had been his favorite color in high school, but the shirts hadn’t been silk back then. But Jonah’s clothes also had her taking a second look. He’d been a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of boy, but the suit he was wearing today had been tailored to fit his tall, lanky frame perfectly, and she was pretty sure it boasted a designer label. He definitely wasn’t the rough-edged street kid she remembered.

As she drew closer, Father Mike held out his arms and she walked right into them.

“Welcome back,” he murmured. “You must come and visit me soon so we can catch up.”

“I will,” she promised as he released her. It was at that precise moment she felt the hairs on the back of her neck spring to attention.

Nash.

She could feel the heat of his gaze on her skin, and the moment she turned her head, she saw him. He stood next to his grandmother on a balcony overlooking the terrace and pool. Her heart started to pound, her breath caught in her throat. He was tall and blond and just as handsome as the image she’d had in her mind all these years.

The fact that he was wearing his uniform did nothing at all to lessen the intensity of his effect on her senses. But it wasn’t until she met his eyes that she felt the full impact. Everything inside of her heated as her mind emptied and simply filled with him. Pleasure shot through her, along with the beginnings of that same primitive and urgent desire she’d felt for him all those years ago.

With it came the impulse to forget every thing else and just go to him. She was not naturally impulsive, but he’d always had that effect on her, making her want to toss the world away and go into freefall just to be with him. He still had the power to make her feel that way. Baffled, she fought hard to keep her feet firmly planted where they were. But she might have lost the battle if he hadn’t chosen that moment to turn to his grandmother.

Even then, it took all of her concentration to turn her own head and focus as Father Mike said, “You must remember Gabe and Jonah.”

“Yes.” The word was barely audible and Bianca reminded herself to smile.

“Welcome back to Denver,” Gabe said.

Jonah merely nodded.

In spite of the friendliness of Gabe’s words, cool wariness was what she saw in the eyes of both men. Of course, both of them had been close to Nash when she’d run out on him. Clearly, they hadn’t forgotten. But when Father Mike introduced her to Gabe’s fiancée, Nicola Guthrie, the young woman’s handshake was warm, her smile genuine. “Are you the Bianca Quinn who wrote Cover Up?”

“I am.”

“What a delight to meet you. Gabe mentioned he knew you when I starting raving about your book.”

“Nicola’s a true fan of your investigative technique,” Gabe said.

“I was going to write you a letter,” Nicola said. “I told my father that we ought to recruit you to work for the FBI.”

“I’m a researcher and a writer, not a crime fighter,” Bianca said.

“We could still benefit from your skills.” Nicola turned to Jonah. “You have to read Cover Up. It all takes place in this little town in upstate New York, not far from Cornell University. The last place you’d expect there would be a home invasion and grisly murders. And the police solved it in record time—or they thought they had. One suspect was shot to death by the police, the other tried, convicted and sentenced to jail. The real killer would have gotten away if Bianca hadn’t decided to write about it.”

Nicola turned back to Bianca. “How did you come to choose that particular story?”

“Someone brought it to my attention when I attended a conference in the area, and I got a feeling, a hunch, that there was a story there.”

“I knew you’d make a good agent. Following hunches is essential in good investigative work.”

Jonah turned to Bianca. “What brings you back to Denver?”

It didn’t surprise Bianca one bit that Jonah was the one to ask that question. He’d let her know eleven years ago that he hadn’t approved of her relationship with Nash. The rough kid from the streets was territorial when it came to his friends, and he never believed in beating around the bush.

“I’m working on two projects.”

“True crime again?” Nicola asked.

“One of them is.” Though her back was turned, she could sense that Nash and his grandmother were approaching. The tingle of awareness moved through every cell in her body. She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she kept her eyes on Nicola. “But I’m also here at the request of Mrs. Fortune. She’s commissioned me to write the history of the Fortune family.”

“Indeed I have,” Maggie said as she and Nash joined the group. “I’ve just been telling Nash, and I think he’s a bit nervous about pulling all the family skeletons out of the closet.”

Bianca barely had time to turn when Nash took her hands in his and leaned down to touch his lips to her cheek. She felt the imprint of each one of his fingers on hers as if they were a brand. The brush of his mouth on her skin was brief, a simple social contact, but her heart skipped a beat, then raced.

“Bianca, it’s wonderful to see you again,” he said. “You’re even lovelier than I remembered.”

He released her in the time it took her to meet his eyes. All she read in his was the warmth one might expect to see in the eyes of an old and dear friend. Nothing that came close to matching the flash of heat his touch had ignited.

“Good to see you, too,” she managed to say, and wondered that her nose didn’t grow like Pinocchio’s for telling the lie. There was no way that her reaction to seeing Nash Fortune again was good. Even after he’d released her hands, she’d wanted badly to throw her arms around him.

She wasn’t the girl she’d been at seventeen—so willing and eager to toss caution to the winds. She was no longer Juliet to his Romeo. What was wrong with her? She was an adult, for heaven’s sake.

But for a few minutes the conversation around her was just a buzz of noise, and she simply couldn’t pick up the thread.

It’s the Nash Effect, the little voice said.

She couldn’t argue with that assessment. She was so aware of him standing near her. It was as if her entire body remembered him. And recalled his touch. When he laughed at something Gabe said, the sound rippled along her nerve endings.

It wasn’t until he stepped closer to Gabe and Jonah that she felt her brain cells click on. She had a story to research, she reminded herself again.

Two stories. In a few more seconds, she’d even remember what they were. Bubbles of panic erupted and cleared her brain. Now, if she could just stop looking at him.

“Are you all right, dear?”

Father Mike. Gratefully, she turned to face him. “I will be.”

“Yes.” He took her hand in his and patted it. “You will be.”

How often had he said those words to her before? The first time had been when she’d worked on the first newsletter for the St. Francis Center. She’d been so nervous about seeing something she’d written in print for the first time. Father Mike had taken her into the small prayer garden tucked in between the center and a basketball court. A statue of St. Francis sat on a dais in the small space, and he’d told her that saying a prayer to the statue would help.

It had. But so had Father Mike’s calm belief in her, then and over the years. She would be all right this time, too.

When she turned back to the others, she could finally follow what they were saying. And she could look at other people besides Nash. The men were discussing an upcoming basketball tournament at the Boys and Girls Club and settling on a poker night since Jonah was in town. Their easy camaraderie matched perfectly with her memories of the three of them.

“I know that you’re busy,” Nicola said to her. “But I’d love to get together with you for lunch?”

Bianca smiled at her. “I’d love that.”

“I’ll call you,” Nicola said before she turned to respond to something Gabe had said.

When a passing waiter offered a flute of champagne, she took one. On the bright side, she’d discovered the answer to one question. Nash was definitely not going to be a non-issue for her. Because he stood in profile, his attention focused on what Gabe was saying, she was able to study him objectively for the first time. His face was leaner, the laugh lines more pronounced. His body was still tall and lanky, but it looked harder. His hands had certainly seemed harder, too, in the moment they’d clasped hers.

They’ll feel different on your skin when he makes love to you.

Bianca took a sip of her champagne. She was just not going to allow herself to go there. Second thing on the bright side—what she was feeling was one-sided. He hadn’t glanced at her since he’d moved away. The fact that he seemed to be treating her as an old friend was a good thing. She’d find a way to handle her feelings. She was older now. And she could still use his help with both her projects. When she interviewed him as the current heir to the Fortune dynasty, she’d also ask him about Brian. They’d been classmates. At the very least, he could provide deeper insights into the kind of person Brian had been. At best, he could save her a lot of time by putting her in touch with others who’d known Brian personally that year. She just had to keep her focus.

“Having second thoughts?”

Bianca turned to see Maggie stood next to her. She met the older woman’s eyes. “No.”

“Good.” Maggie took her free hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “How did your visit to the Colorado Springs Police Department go?”

Bianca smiled at her. “Very smoothly, thanks to you. Mayor DeBlois sends you his best. The sergeant there had the files on Brian Silko’s disappearance all ready for me to read. Unfortunately, I didn’t discover anything new. The detective who did the investigation has retired. No one seemed to know his current address. My next move will be to locate him. But first, I intend to get started on the book you’re paying me for.”

“Good. But I knew when I convinced you to take on the scandalous Fortunes that you were also here to research your next book. You’re free to juggle your work load any way you see fit. I’ll be out of town for a few days, but I’ve arranged with Grady, my house manager, for you to have access to the library and the family archives whenever you wish. He has instructions to let you in and out—at any hour.”

“I’ll start tomorrow.”

“Good.”

“Maggie, sorry I’m late. Happy birthday.”

“James.” Maggie turned to hug the man who wore a dress uniform that matched Nash’s.

“General.” Nash nodded at the man.

Maggie introduced General James Winslow to the group. When it was her turn, Bianca grasped the hand the general extended. She was a little surprised when the current superintendent of the Air Force Academy showed no sign of recognition. It had been less than a month since he’d refused to meet with her or even speak to her on the phone. After that, she’d received the same refusal from everyone else she’d phoned. No one wanted to talk about Cadet Brian Silko.

There was a story to uncover, all right.

When the string quartet segued from Brahms to a lively rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Maggie laughed. “I think that’s a hint that I should cut my birthday cake.”

As the group was dispersing in the direction of the cake, Bianca drew in a deep breath. She had a plan to complete before Nash drifted away. Taking a step toward him, she said, “I’d like to set up an appointment for an interview.”

When he met her eyes, she could read nothing in them. “Grams told me as much. Are you free tomorrow morning around eleven?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be in my office at the academy. Do you have transportation?”

She nodded. “A rental car.”

“Then I’ll have someone meet you at the main gate and show you the way.”

“See you then.” As Bianca watched him move ahead to fall into step with his grandmother and General Winslow, she thought she’d handled that well.

He could still arouse feelings in her, but she would deal with them. She would just have to keep their relationship on a professional level.

As everyone burst into “Happy Birthday,” she settled her gaze on Nash again. And her heart bounced hard and high. She might just as well have been seventeen again.

Keeping things professional will be a good trick if you can pull it off.

Bianca had no comeback for that.