Ride The Tiger. Lindsay McKenna

general seems to think a local VC leader by the name of Binh Duc probably is responsible for this murder. Find out. If he is, the general will make sure the little bastard’s caught and hung by his—” Parsons waved him away. “Dismissed. When you get the answers, let me know.”

      Gib nodded unhappily. “Yes, sir.” Great. Just friggin’ great. He didn’t want the IO status. Nor did he want to see Dany Villard again. As he left headquarters and walked between the long rows of tents toward operations, Gib frowned. A part of him did want to see Dany—some crazy-assed, better ignored part, he amended. His head was screaming at him that this whole mess wasn’t going to bode well for him emotionally. But he was a twenty-year marine, and if he wanted to continue up the promotion ladder, he had to take assignments like this every once in a while, whether he liked it or not.

      His mouth compressed grimly, Gib tucked the file beneath his arm. First, he’d go to operations and hand the flight over to Pete Mallory. Then he’d head to motor pool, requisition a jeep and drive to the Villard plantation. What a hell of a twist to his life.

      * * *

      Gib couldn’t steady the beat of his heart as he slid out of the jeep. Climbing the wooden porch steps—remarkably swept clean of the constant red dust—Gib found himself feeling damned unsure, almost like a sixteen-year-old boy going out on his first date. It was crazy, he decided as he halted to knock on the screen door.

      Ma Ling, the maid, appeared silently before he could knock, her dark eyes accusing as she grudgingly opened the door for him.

      “Good morning,” he said. “I’m Major Gib Ramsey, the investigation officer on Mrs. Villard’s death. I’m here to talk to Dany Villard. Is she around?” Gib hadn’t called before coming over, assuming that with the funeral for her mother having been yesterday, she would be remaining close to the house.

      Ma Ling’s gaze never flinched from his. She jabbed angrily at him. “You in uniform!”

      Gib was taken aback by the mamasan’s fury. “Of course I am.” What the hell was her problem?

      Ma Ling bristled. “Major, Villard neutral.”

      Gib scowled and opened his mouth to speak.

      “You no come here in uniform,” Ma Ling continued in her stilted English, wagging her finger up at him.

      Anger tinged Gib’s patience. “Look, I’m here to see Miss Villard,” he ground out, “on official Marine Corps business. The sooner we quit chatting and get this over with, the quicker I’ll be out of here and you’ll have your neutrality back.”

      Glaring, Ma Ling stepped aside and allowed him into the highly polished teakwood foyer. Although she was dwarfed by his height, disgust was clearly written on her small features. She pointed her gnarled finger toward the drawing room where he’d taken Dany four days earlier.

      “You go in there. Miss Dany sleeping. She very tired by her mama’s funeral.”

      Guilt stabbed at him. He should have called first, damn it. His mouth quirked, and he nodded. “Tell her I’m sorry, but I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

      Ma Ling glared at him and left him standing alone.

      Out of sight, out of mind, Gib thought perversely as the mamasan disappeared. Wiping the sweat off his upper lip, he sauntered into the room. The plantation was quiet, with a soothing silence that certainly didn’t exist at Marble Mountain. Minutes later Ma Ling returned with a teakwood tray. Dany was nowhere in sight. Ma Ling glanced accusingly at Gib as she placed two dainty white china cups and saucers on the French provincial coffee table in front of the couch. The sterling silver teapot was placed between the cups, as was the creamer and sugar bowl.

      “Miss Dany be down shortly. She said to serve tea.”

      At least she was trying to be somewhat sociable, instead of openly hostile. His hands in his pockets, Gib turned his attention to the walls of the room, beginning to inspect the framed photographs he’d noticed on his previous visit. On closer look, Gib realized that Dany’s mother must have been a Hollywood actress. Two large, colorful movie posters adorned the nearest wall. Reading the credits, Gib saw Amy Lou Rawlings’s name in each of them, although in small print compared to the leading actor and actress. Moving to the next wall, he saw black-and-white photos of Dany’s mother with a dashing, mustached man whom he guessed must be Hugo Villard, Dany’s father. It appeared they had gone to every famous Hollywood spot, including the world-renowned Polo Lounge, where anyone who was anybody met to be seen for lunch or dinner.

      The third wall held photos of Dany’s parents getting married. It was obviously a Hollywood wedding with all the dramatics that Tinsel Town could muster. Judging by the cars and clothes, the wedding had taken place in the 1930s. In another picture, Hugo sat astride a bay polo horse, surrounded by actors, looking proud and typically French with a natural air of aplomb. Gib shook his head. Dany certainly didn’t seem like the product of a Hollywood marriage. The investigation he’d been maneuvered into taking by his colonel had uncovered some interesting information about Amy Lou, however, and Gib didn’t have trouble believing she’d been a Hollywood starlet, based on how she’d lived in Vietnam.

      Frowning, Gib found himself staring at the photos on the fourth and last wall. The Villard plantation was a frequent setting for parties with key Vietnamese officials, it appeared. There was even a photo of the latest Saigon government politicians with Hugo and Amy Lou. In another, the couple stood with Thieu, the latest strong man in Vietnam. The palace showed in the background of that photo, obviously taken in Saigon. The wall of pictures celebrated the Villard power and social life, incorporating one extravaganza after another. In each photo, Amy Lou was dressed in gaudy costumes befitting her earlier Hollywood image.

      But where was Dany in all these pictures? Gib wondered. There were no baby pictures of her, of a proud mother holding her much-loved daughter. At his parent’s ranch in Midland, Texas, Gib poignantly recalled, the top of their television had become a favorite, crowded spot for pictures of each of the four children. Thinking he’d somehow missed the ones of Dany as a baby or a little girl, Gib began to peruse the wall more carefully.

      Gib was standing, hands on hips, critically studying the last wall of photos when he heard Dany enter the room. Unbidden, his heart skipped beats as he allowed his hands to drop to his sides and he turned around. Nothing could have prepared him for seeing her once again.

      Dany was dressed in a pale green cotton overblouse and loose, white cotton slacks, her feet bare. Her eyes still looked drowsy and slightly puffy. Her hair was pinned up haphazardly, ebony tendrils curled and clinging to her dampened temples. She looked like a disheveled girl, Gib thought, vulnerable and innocent. Shaking himself internally, he tried to get a handle on his feelings.

      Today, her lovely golden skin looked more healthy. Her lips were full, he discovered, and delicately shaped, the corners soft and turned slightly upward. She had her mother’s small, fine nose, and as his gaze moved upward to meet her startling green eyes, Gib unconsciously inhaled.

      Dany’s eyes were her most beautiful asset, Gib decided as he offered her a slight smile of welcome. He felt more unsure of himself now than any sixteen year old ever could have felt. She had the most alluring eyes he’d ever encountered, but they were dark with grief, the only outward sign of the tragedy she had endured. Her anguished expression quickly tamped his initial reactions to her as a woman.

      “I’m sorry I woke you. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again. I’m Major Gib Ramsey. I’ve been appointed investigation officer on your mother’s death.”

      Dany felt as if a weight on her shoulders had lightened when she walked into the drawing room and saw Gib standing there, studying the photos on the wall. When he turned, an incredible warmth suffused her, easing the pain she hadn’t been able to escape since her mother’s death. His large, alert hazel eyes broadcast his solicitude, and once again she felt protected and genuinely cared for. The feeling was so foreign to Dany that she was taken aback by it for precious seconds as she stood awkwardly beneath his heated, burning inspection.

      Capturing