It was still pouring buckets outside, but she no longer cared. Escape was more important than comfort. Pulling open the doors, getting slapped in the face by the icy wind and rain, she stepped into the night, where there were no recriminating stares from stepsiblings, no couples kissing beneath the mistletoe.
No sexy pilots.
God. She’d wanted a diversion, she’d wanted to feel something, wanted to need, to yearn and burn, and man, oh man had she needed, wanted, yearned and burned for him . . .
The kiss had been amazing. So had their second one.
It’d been more than amazing, it’d created a souldeep longing for things she knew she couldn’t really get in a closet with a stranger, but there for a second, for one single tiny mindless second, she’d been so willing to try—
Nearly plowing into a figure standing there in a dark cloak, the hood up, she staggered to a surprised halt. “Sorry,” she said, pushing her wet hair from her face. “I’m—”
There wasn’t one person standing there, but two. And one of them was slowly slipping to the sidewalk, just as something flashed from beneath the first person’s cloak.
A gun.
Chapter 4
Shayne closed his cell phone on Maddie and eyed the mistletoe still lying on the floor. It made him smile, for no real good reason other than Dani had been right. Insane or not, those kisses had been every bit as wow as she’d said.
For the second time in as many minutes, his cell vibrated, making him sigh. This time it was Brody. “What?”
“Maddie says you’re abusing yourself in there. Dude, the porn is in the mechanic’s bathroom, not the closet.”
“Funny.” Brody was more than a partner, he was his best friend, and had been since that fateful day in middle school when the three of them had landed in detention. Noah had been fighting, Brody had been caught with a girl four years his senior, and Shayne? Cheating in chemistry. “What do you want?” he asked, crouching down to clean up the things that had fallen from the shelves.
“Maddie said you gave her a raise. Tell me that’s not true.”
News always traveled fast at Sky High Air, mostly due to the fact that they were all apparently still in high school. “She signed the Clarks’ three Lears for six months.”
“Thought that was your job. Maybe we should switch your job descriptions. You’d look good in that pink miniskirt Maddie wears.”
“Shut up.” They were all equals at Sky High, him, Brody, and Noah. And all pilots, though Brody handled the majority of their flights. Noah specialized in personalized adventures, finding and fine-tuning them for their clients. And though Shayne loved to fly and did plenty of it, as the people person of the group, he handled the business end of things; bringing in new clients, acquiring new planes, leasing said planes, etc. Together, they made the whole package, and whether that meant flying a turboprop or a jet on a moment’s notice, taking a charter flight to Santa Barbara, or a business group to Alaska, it got handled, efficiently, discreetly, and luxuriously.
Not a bad gig, especially for Shayne, the black sheep of an affluent family who’d always seen him as the youngest, the daydreamer.
The weak link.
His family would be surprised to know that every single one of Sky High’s clients had been brought in by him. Because of him.
But now Maddie had brought in a client, a big one, and Shayne was nothing but grateful. For the first time, he wasn’t the sole provider, and damn, that was a relief. “She deserves a raise, Brody.”
“We already pay her a fortune.”
“So now we’ll pay her a fortune and a half.”
“Can’t bleed a turnip.”
Brody had been born poor, had grown up poor, and starting Sky High Air had nearly gutted him. He couldn’t stand the thought of debt, couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that they were on their way to making it, and making it big.
They were going to do it, shocking as that seemed for three fucked-up kids once headed directly for juvy without passing go.
But it was more than money on the line and they both knew it. Brody, the ultimate guy’s guy—and commitment-phobe to boot—had allowed Maddie to get beneath his skin.
Not that the big guy would ever admit it. Hell, no. Show a weakness? Brody? He’d rather gnaw off his own arm. “She’s saved our ass time and time again,” Shayne reminded him.
As he knew this to be true, Brody fell silent. Maddie had been a godsend. At twenty-six, she was a few years younger than them, and probably a helluva lot more mature, even with her current choice of magenta hair. She’d been going through a biker stage lately, and with that came a lot of black leather, which he had to admit had been fun to look at. She was more than their concierge and assistant, she was an all-around miracle worker. The woman could get her fingers on anything and have it delivered before the client even knew it was needed. “We can vote on this,” he said. “But I know Noah will agree with me.”
“Shit. Noah’s so pussy-whipped he can’t even see straight. They’re still in his office, you know. Him and Bailey. Someone’s going to have to send food in there to sustain them.”
“Jealous?”
That made Brody laugh. “Of having a wife? Are you kidding me?”
“How about for having sex whenever you want it?”
“You don’t need a wife for that, so why should I? And who are you in there with anyway? Not Maddie, not Michelle. Kathleen?”
“Left the country.”
“Dude.”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s what a girl says when she dumps you.”
“I did not get dumped.” He’d so been dumped.
“So you’re in there with someone new, then,” Brody decided. “Big surprise.”
“Hey.” Shayne might have the reputation for going through women like some went through fine wine, but he’d always used discretion and was careful to be only with women looking for the same thing he was—a good time.
Dani had certainly seemed to fit that bill. She’d come on to him, always a fun bonus, and had seemed lucid enough at the time, but now that he knew who she was and that the world in general considered her to be crazy, he felt uncomfortable, as if he’d taken advantage of her somehow. “I thought you said I was in here alone.”
“Well if you are, self-gratify on your own time. You’ve got at least fifty socialites out here, drinking and being merry, all way too close to million-dollar planes.” Brody was extremely protective of the planes. “People are all over them, carrying flutes of champagne and tiny plates of fancy shit masquerading as food. So please, get your ass out here and flash that poster-boy smile as you tell everyone to watch the damn planes. Ah, shit—”
“What?”
“Maddie, three o’clock,” he hissed. “Heading right for me.” The big, badass Brody sounded terrified. “She’s got that look in her eye too. The gonna chew me up and spit me out look.”
Shayne had to laugh. “She’s a whole foot and a hundred pounds lighter than you. Suck it up, you chicken shit.”
“You have no idea—Fuck. Gotta go.”
Shayne slipped his phone back in his pocket and had no sooner reached for the closet door to go out and rescue the planes when it opened and someone slipped inside.
Dani.
“Oh, thank God you’re still in here.” She gulped. “Houston, we have a problem.” She was drenched, shaking, and sobbing for breath as she turned and slammed the door before whipping back around, eyes so wide there was nothing but white all around her dark irises. If he thought she’d looked like a mess before, it was nothing to now, with water streaming down her face, her hair plastered to her head, her dress sucked up against her like a second skin. “Ohmigod, Shayne—”
“Dani.” Jesus, what had happened? With no other choice, he put his hands on her, drawing her close even though she was wet as hell, and making him the same. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, but”—she gulped again, pointed to the door—“out th
ere—” Burrowing against him, she shuddered.
She felt so small and cold, and her whole body was racked by her next shiver. He tried to warm her up with his body heat. “What happened?”
“I saw—I need to call the police but I don’t think I can dial. Can you dial?” Pulling free, she patted herself down.
He saw the exact second that it registered, she had no pockets in that little black dress, and most likely no cell phone.
“My phone’s in my car,” she whispered. “And my car’s in the shop. I need a phone. He needs help. We have to help.”
Her eyes were fully dilated, twin balls of horror, and he pulled out his cell. “Who needs help? Tell me, and I’ll call.”
“There’s a dead body. I saw the gun.” She covered her face. “I saw it happen, ohmigod, Shayne, I saw it happen.”
His gut went cold. “Where?”
“Out front.”
Jesus. “Wait here.” Sounds from the large party filtered over him as he ran down the hallway; laughter, music, talking, sounding all so surreal as Dani’s words ran through his head.
A dead body.
A gun . . .
Passing a server who tried to offer him a tray of hors d’oeuvres, he headed out the double front doors. It was raining like a mother, coming down in slashing sheets that blocked out much of the light from the two lamplights on either side of the walkway. As the doors closed behind him, shutting out the sounds of the party, all he could hear was the rain slapping the concrete.
There was absolutely no one else around. No engines running, no people, nothing. Turning in a slow circle, he took a second look, and a third. He even moved down the steps, directly into the rain, getting soaked within seconds as he walked into the parking lot, up and down the aisles of parked cars, looking, searching . . .
Finding nothing.
Slowly heading back, he blinked past the water in his face, taking in the parking lot one last time before the front doors opened.
Dani.
“Did you call the police?” she demanded, hugging herself. “We have to get them out here right away.”
She needed a coat. And a warm room.
And possibly, a straitjacket. “Dani.”
She stared at him with dark, tormented eyes, then turned to look at a spot only five feet from him, her gaze glued to the sidewalk.
The empty sidewalk. “But . . .” She didn’t say what he’d already discovered.
No dead body. No gun. No bloodstains.
Nothing.
As if to emphasize this, the rain increased, hitting the ground like bullets, pounding into him with painful velocity.
Shoving her hands into her hair, Dani pushed the strands off her face, then stepped to some invisible mark and slowly turned to him. “It was here.” She hunkered down to get a closer look at nothing. “Right here.”
“What was that, exactly?”
Straightening, she turned and hobbled into the parking lot, limping on her one high-heeled sandal.
“There’s nothing there, Dani.”
“But only a few minutes have passed. Not long enough to dispose of a body and all the evidence, right?” Standing in the downpour, she turned in a slow circle as he’d done, taking in the parking lot, the area all around them, her bare limbs gleaming with rain water, pale and shimmering as she hugged herself.
“Dani—”
“There were two of them,” she said hoarsely, eyes still wild. “They were . . . fighting, I think. Or maybe not. One of them shot the other. I saw the gleam of the gun. I saw that person fall.”
Again he eyed the spot she was talking about. Nothing but wet pavement. No bloodstains, no sign of trouble . . . “Did you hear the gun go off?”
“No. The rain is too loud. I think.” Lifting her head, she leveled him with those eyes. “I know how it sounds, but I swear it, Shayne. I saw somebody die.”
He wanted to believe her. Her terror was genuine. But then there was his reality. Half of the people inside had heard about her. Her own mother had told them.
The girl was crazy.
Was this how she was crazy? Did she get perfect strangers to kiss her and then make up wild stories? If he went off sheer odds alone, he’d have to admit, the cards were stacked against her.
She was staring at him, clearly reading the thoughts all over his face. “Damn you.” She covered her mouth, her hand shaking. “Damn you.” Then as if she couldn’t quite get enough air, she bent over and breathed like a person on the very edge.
“Dani.” He put his hand on her back, and she straightened. Glared at him.
“I am not making this up, Shayne.”
Maybe not, but she was in full panic mode, complete with near hyperventilation, dilated pupils, possibly going into shock. Keeping his hand on her, he pulled out his cell, hitting Brody’s number.
“Hey,” Brody complained. “I’m in the middle of a plate of food here.”
The only thing Brody loved more than his planes was his food. “Is everything okay in there?”
“I don’t get these little appetizers. They’re just teasers. We need some real food in here, you know? Want to get a pizza?”
“Jesus, forget the food. There’s no problem in there, nothing at all?”
The good humor dropped from Brody’s voice. “No. Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure.” He watched Dani, who walked away from him, again crouching down, peering at the sidewalk, rain pouring down her face.
“Shayne?”
“Stay tuned,” he said, shutting the phone, walking toward Dani.
“I’m not crazy,” she said, without looking at him. “I’m not. I saw someone die, right here.”
She absolutely believed it. Which begged the question—did he believe it too?
Chapter 5
Dani shivered as she kneeled on the sidewalk, the rain pouring down over her. She was so wet now it no longer mattered. All she wanted was to get to the bottom of what she’d seen.
But that wasn’t going to happen, she could tell by the look in Shayne’s eyes. Oh, God. He thought she was nuts, and for one beat in time, she felt nuts. But she’d seen what she’d seen.
She knew it.
Still, with no evidence, what could she do? Nothing. Nothing at all.
Knowing that, it was time to get out of here, time to get back on solid ground. She needed to go home, back to her comfort zone.
Shayne had been talking on his cell phone while carefully watching her, but he closed it now and slid it into his pocket. He was as drenched as she, his hair plastered to his head, his whiskey-colored shirt and dark pants clinging to his long, hard body, and yet he somehow managed to look as elegant and sophisticated as he had perfectly dry.
Pushing the hair from his brow, he came toward her, his eyes giving nothing away of his thoughts. “Dani.”
A few moments ago, she’d been able to read him like a book. But that had been when he’d been holding a sprig of mistletoe above her head, his eyes bright with wicked fun and enough heat to melt her bones.
He’d delivered on the promise of that heat and then some.
But she didn’t expect him to deliver now, not with that unfathomable look in his eyes, and could she blame him? She had a reputation for being a loon, and she’d just told him she’d witnessed a murder.
Without evidence even remotely supporting such a claim.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning away before he could see how shaken she felt. “I’m just going to go.”