Front Page Affair. Jennifer Morey

rarely made big news, but Arizona had been fascinated by the story, by the woman. Her reputation was solid. She was charitable and respected, a role model for young women.

      If something had happened to her, it would make a great story. News of a woman like that vanishing in a place like Tortola would stir up a decent amount of public interest. This could be just the story she needed to boost her career. It would probably wind up in the news eventually, anyway. And Arizona never turned down a chance to fight for victims.

      Noticing her brother’s now very acute discord, she cocked her head in challenge. He was going to try to stop her again.

      Lincoln turned to Braden. “I’ll go with you to Tortola.”

      Surprise drew Braden’s head back. “You will?”

      Clever. So that’s how he thought he’d stop her.

      “Lincoln...”

      “I also know some people I can call—” Lincoln talked over her. “We’ll look into her latest credit card use and other indicators of her whereabouts.”

      “That would be great.”

      Her brother was going to make this difficult for her. She wasn’t going to let him ignore her. “Michael Benson said if I brought him a writing sample, and it was as good as Dad said it would be, he’d hire me.”

      Michael Benson was editor in chief for a prominent news magazine.

      Lincoln sighed as Braden followed what must surely seem a strange turn of conversation. “That isn’t the real reason you want to go.”

      “You want to do a story on my sister?” Braden searched her for answers, disconcerting her. He didn’t sound pleased with the idea.

      “Benson isn’t going to hire you,” her brother interrupted. “He’s just saying that because he owes Dad a favor.”

      And the favor was reading her writing sample. Nothing more. “If I give him quality work, he’ll hire me.”

      “You write about fashion and gossip. Nobody would ever take you seriously.”

      That hurt. Braden’s brow had lowered enough to put a crease above his nose. He didn’t like where this was headed.

      “It’s not what you think,” she told him. “This is an opportunity to do something worthy.”

      “Why are you pushing this, Arizona? It’s not what you really want.”

      She turned to her brother. “How do you know what I want?”

      “This isn’t about being taken seriously. This is about losing Trevor. Anytime you hear someone is being victimized, you take leaps without thinking. It’s what made you have the harebrained idea of becoming an international news reporter.”

      Braden looked from one to the other. “Who is Trevor?”

      “Her fiancé. He—”

      “Lincoln,” Arizona stopped him. It was too personal.

      Braden studied her a moment and didn’t press for details. “I won’t let you exploit my sister for a news story.”

      He said it so matter-of-factly that there was no doubt he meant it. “It’s going to get in the news anyway. Why not let me break it? Besides, I could help you. Publicity will put pressure on police to work hard to find her.”

      “I don’t need that kind of help. This is a private family matter.”

      “You heard the man. You aren’t going,” Lincoln said.

      Now she was getting mad. “Why do you always think whatever I do is a bandage for what happened?”

      “Because everything you’ve done since then has been exactly that.”

      She had to find a way to convince him he was wrong. “Define everything.”

      “You’ve gone overboard in the last few years,” Lincoln said. “If you aren’t saving puppies or volunteering to help natural disaster victims, you’re jumping out of planes every week. Slow down.”

      “I don’t jump out of airplanes every week.”

      “You know what I’m saying, A.”

      She loved it when he called her A. It had begun when she was in school and received the one and only A in twelfth grade. That’s when she’d aspired to go to college. That one A, and her brother making her feel so good about it.

      “I need a good story,” she said simply, pleading.

      “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Braden turned to leave and then froze.

      Arizona looked to see what had stopped him. A white BMW was parked across the street. A man sat inside.

      “Who is that?” her brother asked.

      With all three of them staring, the man in the BMW drove into the street and disappeared under the canopy of trees down the road.

      Braden swore.

      The rough sound captivated Arizona. So did his edgy profile. The translucence of his eyes radiated strength. So did his straight, proportioned nose, for some unknown reason to her. A mouth worth exploring. She didn’t understand the potency of her response to him.

      Who are you? she nearly asked.

      He turned to her, caught what must be her rapturous look, and the tension along his brow tightened. “Do you really jump out of planes?”

      “Occasionally.” She was still drowning in his sex appeal.

      His eyes scanned all over her face, nothing showing as to what he thought of her favorite sport. “Then go do that instead of a story on my sister.”

      While the affront doused the heat simmering in her, he glanced up the street once more.

      Lincoln noticed. “Are you being followed?”

      “I shouldn’t have come.” He started to walk away.

      “Wait.”

      Reluctantly, he faced them again. Arizona began to feel contrite. He’d come for help from Lincoln, and she had interfered.

      She sighed her exasperation. “All right. I’m leaving.”

      Kissing her brother’s cheek, she said to Braden, “Nice to meet you.”

      He just watched her, surprise emerging into his nearly unreadable eyes. He hadn’t expected her to back down. Well, she lived with aggressive reporters all the time. While she intended to do a serious story, she couldn’t inflict the same torture on Braden and his sister. She’d just have to find another opportunity.

      Making her way down the narrow driveway, she started for her car. The street in this old neighborhood wasn’t wide, leaving little room for cars to pass. The houses were big and close together, with mature trees towering above. All part of the charm.

      At the driver’s door, she looked over the hood at Braden and Lincoln, both in an involved conversation. She had to force herself not to go back and insist on Braden allowing her to join him. She could help him. Even if she didn’t do a story, she could help him find his sister. It killed her that she wouldn’t be able to. Not doing anything filled her with that familiar helplessness. She hated that feeling. And she’d do anything to make it go away. Usually that meant being proactive. But she couldn’t now. Braden—and her brother—wouldn’t let her.

      She hoped they found Braden’s sister. Maybe there was a way she could help from here in the States. She’d do something. She had to. She couldn’t back off and do nothing. Not when there was a woman who’d disappeared in the Caribbean. It was too much like her fiancé’s situation to ignore. She didn’t know Braden’s sister, but that didn’t matter. Trevor was gone forever because she’d done nothing to help him. If she could help Braden, in any way, she would.

      Hearing