Someone Safe. Lori L. Harris

of the door, many of them the same ones that had lined her father’s office.

      “I always liked this one the best,” he commented.

      The black-and-white photo commemorated her first solo at age nine. She was perched atop her father’s shoulders, her bare knees hanging from beneath her dress, both skinned. Her smile wide and happy, a duplicate of the man who held her aloft.

      She wondered if Nick had actually expected her to play nice, to act as if they were old friends. She shook her head in amazement. “I didn’t catch the evening news. Did hell freeze over?”

      He gave her a tight smile. “I would have thought starting up an airline was a high risk proposition. Seems every time I open a newspaper, one has hit the dust.”

      Turning away, Kelly caught sight of the satchel on the floor. Her satchel. The full impact of the situation hit her. After all, Nick was with Customs.

      Maybe she should have thought of it when he’d first shown up, but she hadn’t. And there was no way he could know about the bag’s contents, was there?

      She just needed to remain cool, go on pretending she had nothing to hide. She would have liked to kick the bag under her desk, but knew the action would only serve to draw Nick’s attention.

      “Okay. Logan’s business strategy one-oh-one. Some smaller commuter lines try to make a profit in a saturated market. Too much supply for the demand.”

      “And the Abacos aren’t a tough market? Seems quite a few of the big hitters serve the area. Must make it rough at times.”

      “You’re right. They’re not as wide-open as they once were. Making a buck isn’t quite as easy.”

      “There are other ways to make cash. Easier ways.”

      Given their history, she would have to be a complete fool not to realize where he headed with that comment. He thought she was smuggling. Which meant this was undoubtedly some kind of fishing expedition.

      Kelly folded her arms across her again. “I think it’s time you left. If you don’t, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.” Her gaze level with his, she picked up the phone as if to make good on the threat.

      He waited to move, long enough to let her know he was more amused than worried. Nick pushed away from the wall and walked toward her, his dark gaze never leaving her face.

      It was then she realized she wasn’t immune to him. Maybe no woman ever could be.

      He stopped just in front of her. “Okay. We’ll play it your way.”

      She lifted her chin, tightened her arms and spine. Her heart battered the inside of her ribs, and it wasn’t just fear this time. “I do have the home court advantage.”

      She sensed the tension in his lean body. Felt a more potent one uncurl deep in her own. Being this close to him, the hint of his aftershave reminded her just how grubby she was. Not that she gave a damn. She didn’t care what Nick thought of her as long as he left her alone.

      She forced herself to keep her gaze level with his. She could see the small flecks of midnight scattered through steel. He wasn’t here to leave her alone. He wanted something. From her.

      He smiled slowly, until it was raw and sexy and knowing. “I’ll be staying over at the Hopetown Hotel.”

      “Tell someone who cares.”

      “I’m just mentioning it because I want you to know I’m not going very far.”

      “Whatever it is you think you know, you’re way off base, Nick.”

      “I doubt it, Flygirl.”

      At the door, he picked up his duffel. “Next time you pull a gun, make sure it’s loaded. And be ready to use it.”

      “If I ever have you lined up in my sights again, I won’t hesitate.”

      IT WAS PAST MIDNIGHT when Kelly placed the last crate of bronze castings on the scale. She listed the weight and contents on the manifest, then used a marker to number the top.

      At several points during the past hour, she’d caught herself worrying about the reason for Nick’s visit.

      Obviously he suspected she was involved in some type of smuggling. Not the Ocularcet, she reasoned. The FDA would be more interested than Customs in the unapproved drug she carried in the side pocket of her bag. For Customs to get involved it would have to be something with a financial payoff. If she took their previous history into account, the answers would be guns.

      Which meant she had nothing to fear. He wasn’t going to find anything incriminating. There were no guns stashed beneath the lounge sink or in the luggage compartments of the King Air.

      If Nick wanted to waste his time investigating her, that was his problem and not hers. She’d just keep to business as usual. And as far as the Ocularcet, come morning, she’d deliver it as planned. If she got caught at Customs going in, so be it. The cause was a worthy one and, with any luck, she wouldn’t get jail time. The way she saw it, with a child involved, she didn’t have any choice. At least, none that she could live with.

      “Hey, there.”

      Kelly jumped at Ben’s greeting. Her earlier irritation rose again. “I thought you were coming back to load the plane.”

      “And here I am,” Ben Tittle stated simply. He was fast pushing sixty. Most would call him scrawny, but that was just an illusion. In the past year, he’d gone native, taken to wearing shorts and T-shirts and often looked as if he’d slept on the beach. Despite his appearance, he was still the best aviation mechanic on the islands. And, after her aunt, the closest thing Kelly had to family.

      The stink of stale Scotch and cigarette smoke reached her. She noticed the grin on his face remained uncontrolled, loose, and his eyelids drooped over his watery blue eyes.

      Confronting him now about his drinking would be a waste of time. Morning would be more productive. Maybe, after some sleep, she might actually feel up to it.

      Kelly secured the luggage compartment on the King Air. “I loaded the foundry’s shipment.” When Kelly crossed to the desk, Ben followed and stood just behind her as she checked over the flight plan.

      “Why take the King?”

      “It’ll handle the weight well enough, and I have a passenger to pick up. World’s most obnoxious passenger, Superjerk, is making another round trip. He’s scheduled to go back on Sunday. Bringing a friend with him this time. I can’t wait to see if it’s male or female. Care to make a small wager?”

      She almost wanted to chuckle at the sour expression the news brought to Ben’s features. She didn’t like Jeff Myers any more than Ben did. Occasionally, when she was out over the Atlantic and the attorney started in on just how rough the ride was, how the beer nuts were stale, how the fare was out of line, she fantasized about opening the door and booting him out.

      She flipped through the manifest, thoughts of the lawyer fading. “Nick Cavanaugh dropped by tonight.”

      She looked up to catch Ben’s expression. Though he seemed to be surprised, was he?

      “Why would he do that?” Ben asked.

      “I thought perhaps you might be able to tell me?”

      His eyes narrowed in what appeared to be confusion. “What do you mean?”

      “He said you told him where to find me.”

      “Then he lied.”

      She nodded. “Which doesn’t come as a complete surprise, does it?”

      Ben looked relieved at her easy acceptance. He glanced down at his flip-flops. “Did he say what he wanted?”

      “No. He didn’t come straight out and ask if I was smuggling, but he sure as heck was doing some serious trolling.”

      “Did