Wish Upon a Christmas Star. Darlene Gardner

      “Nothing. He’s my brother.” Maria tried not to show her frustration. Some people were tougher nuts to crack than others. “I only want to talk to him.”

      “How do I know this man wants to talk to you?” the woman asked, her expression hardening. “We’re very busy. You need to step aside if you don’t have anything to mail.”

      “But you haven’t—”

      “I can vouch for my friend.” Logan was suddenly at Maria’s side, flashing a reassuring smile at the clerk. “She’s been worried about her brother since he went missing.”

      The flint went out of the woman’s features. She looked past Maria to Logan. “This man, he’s really her brother?”

      “He really is,” Logan said. “Could you please take a look and see if you recognize him?”

      She nodded once, slid the paper closer and examined it for a few seconds. “Never seen him before.”

      Maria shoved aside her disappointment and tapped the age progression. “Could you hold on to that and show it around?”

      “Give me a call if somebody recognizes him.” Logan reached into his wallet and handed a business card to the teller. Because he had clearly made a connection with her, Maria suppressed the urge to pull out a card of her own.

      “For you, I’ll do it,” the clerk told him.

      Maria didn’t speak again until they were outside in the sunshine. Even though she hadn’t wanted Logan along, she couldn’t discount his help. “I owe you one.”

      “You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “I’m here to help any way I can.”

      Unexpected tears stung the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t sure if they were due to the stress of searching for the brother she’d long believed dead or the fact that Logan Collier was being kind to her.

      “Where to now?” he asked.

      “Let’s stop at that coffee shop we passed,” she said, nodding back down Eaton Street. “I could use a cup.”

      “A bottle of cold water sounds good to me.” He wiped his damp brow. “I’m not exactly dressed for warm weather.”

      There was a line inside the coffee shop, too. Great, Maria thought. This would work. “I need to use the restroom. Would you order a cup of regular coffee for me?”

      “Sure,” he said.

      She waited until he was in line and his back was turned before slipping out of the store. Guilt, her constant companion, once again descended. She ignored it.

      She could deal with Logan being angry at her. She wasn’t at all sure she could deal with his kindness.

      * * *

      MARIA ZIGZAGGED THROUGH the palm-lined Key West streets, walking quickly and taking peeks over her shoulder to make sure Logan wasn’t following her. Old Town was a mix of retail shops, business offices, small hotels and private residences housed in wood-frame structures painted in pastel shades. Most of the homes had peaked metal roofs, gingerbread trim, covered porches and wreaths on the doors.

      After about a half mile, she stopped watching her back. She continued to work on squashing her guilt over giving Logan the slip when he’d flown a thousand miles to offer his help.

      He was a distraction she couldn’t afford. If her brother were alive, she might have only a short window of time to find him before he took off again.

      Key Carl could help her focus her efforts.

      She spied the other private investigator’s office in a pale green, one-story duplex with a real estate office on the other side. A petite young woman with a mass of curly blond hair tied back in a ponytail emerged from Key Carl’s place. She checked the door to make sure it was locked before walking in the opposite direction.

      “Wait!” Maria called. “You with the blond hair.”

      A tour bus passed by, drowning out her voice. The woman waited until the bus passed before hurrying across an intersection to a block that appeared mostly residential.

      She moved fast for such a small person. Her wedged sandals and snug yellow skirt didn’t even slow her down. Maria ran to catch up, crossing the street against the light and slowing only when she got to within a few paces.

      “You’ve gone and done it now, Kayla,” she heard the woman say. “You wanted him to notice you. Well, he can’t help but notice if you screw up.”

      The roar of the bus might not be the only reason the woman hadn’t heard Maria calling. She was talking to herself.

      “Excuse me,” Maria said in a voice loud enough to be heard at a rock concert.

      The blonde startled, her hand flying to her throat. She whirled, her posture relaxing when she got a look at Maria. “Oh, you scared me!”