Twice Kissed. Lisa Jackson
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replaced by purposeful strides that ate up the gravel-strewn lot that separated the house from the barn. With a countenance as harsh as the windswept Wyoming plains he’d once called home, his features were grim and set, his jaw clenched, his eyes, even in the darkness, drilling into hers.
“Thane,” she said, not bothering with a smile as he stepped into the small circle of light cast by the porch light. “Will wonders never cease?” Somehow she hoped to cover up the fact that she was shell-shocked, that her heart was racing, and a dozen questions blitzed through her mind. “You know, Walker, you’re about the last person I expected to ever darken my door.”
He didn’t crack a smile. “Guess you’re still sharpening your tongue, eh, Maggie?”
“Always,” she lied.
His lips flattened over his teeth for just a second. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? We’re gonna trade insults?” After all these years, he still had the ability to make her feel like a fool. “Right now I don’t have the time, the energy, or the desire.”
“Neither do I.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
“What’re you doing here?”
The intensity of the man didn’t let up one iota. He hesitated just a second. “I need your help.”
“My help?” she repeated, not trusting him as far as she could throw him. He was trouble. She’d learned that painful fact a long time ago; the last person she wanted in her life in any way, shape, or form. “I can’t imagine why.” Already shaking her head, she forced herself to stay calm. Just because she thought she’d heard Mary Theresa’s “voice” was no reason to panic. But the fact that he was here had to be more than simple coincidence. Didn’t it? Besides, she wasn’t one to believe in coincidence. Folding her arms over her chest, she met his narrowed gaze with her own. “You know, Thane, you’ve got a helluva lot of nerve. After everything that happened between you and Mary Theresa, I can’t imagine why I would ever consider helping you.”
“Because, if I remember right, that’s the kind of person you are. Even after what happened.”
She stiffened, felt a jab of undeserved guilt, and refused to rise to the bait. Some things were better left dead and buried. She forced a cold smile. “Maybe you’d better explain.”
“It’s Mary Theresa.”
Her heart nearly stopped, though she’d expected as much.
“I don’t know how to say this but to do it straight out,” he admitted, rubbing his hand over a jaw that was in dire need of a shave. “Brace yourself.”
“Oh, God—”
“She’s missing, Maggie. Been gone at least three days. No one knows where she is, but…” He glanced away toward the shadowy hills, then took a deep breath. “It looks bad.”
“How bad?” She held on to the rail of the porch for support, felt the slivers in the tips of her fingers that she hadn’t bothered working out yet.
“Real bad. I thought she might be here.”
“No.” Her stomach twisted.
“I’m surprised the police haven’t called you yet.”
She felt the breath of something cold and sinister against the back of her neck. “You know Mary Theresa,” Maggie heard herself saying, denial running circles in her mind. “This could just be one of her stunts. It’s not like she hasn’t run away before.”
A shadow flickered in his gaze. “This time she doesn’t have a husband to run from.”
“For the love of God, Thane, listen to you. Mary Theresa is fine. She’s just…hiding.”
“But not here? Not with you?”
“No—”
He looked tired. Weary. As if he hadn’t slept in days. As if he really believed that this time Mary Theresa had gotten herself into thick, dire trouble.
“There’s more,” he said and his tone of voice—so flat and guarded—told her to beware.
“More?”
“The police and that television station she works for don’t think that she just ran off. At least they’re considering other possibilities.”
Dread sliced into her soul.
“They suspect that she’s been kidnapped or worse.”
A soft cry erupted from her throat. “No—”
He held her gaze with eyes that were, in the gathering darkness, a dangerous shade of midnight blue. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”
“Look, Thane, I don’t want to hear this. It’s nonsense. It…it just can’t be. Mary Theresa is fine. She’s in Denver and—”
“I was there. At her place. She wasn’t there. Hadn’t been for days. Thursday she stormed off the set, then Friday she didn’t show up for work and missed a meeting with her new agent.”
“New agent?” Maggie repeated. “She’s not with Merle?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard the news. Merle Lafayette’s out. Ambrose King is in.”
“But she was with Merle for years…”
“Until she fired her about six months ago. King made her promises. Anyway, she stood him up.”
“She could just be out of town. You know how she is.”
His teeth clenched and a muscle worked in the corner of his jaw. “The police will be calling.”
“Oh, God.” She shook her head. “No,” she said with new determination. “You’re wrong. Something’s going on, sure, but—”
“Why would I lie?”
The question stopped her cold. She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed.
“Why would I drive all this way just to tell you a lie?”
Her head thundered as night descended. She felt detached and alone, as if she were watching a drama that she was a part of. “I—I don’t know. You’ve lied before.”
“Not about this.”
“No, but—”
He grabbed her hand, held it in a strong grip that squeezed hard. “I didn’t come here to freak you out, Maggie. But I thought you’d want to know, to hear it from me face-to-face. So just hear me out.”
He looked so beleaguered she half-believed him, and then the pain began in earnest, the agony of what he was saying plunged deep into her soul. Tears burned in her eyes. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“And, believe me, I don’t want to say it, but Maggie, you’ve got to listen. There’s a detective with the Denver police who thinks that she…” His voice trailed off to be replaced by the sounds of a calf bawling for his mother.
“What?”
His lips turned down at the corners. “That she might be dead.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus, no—” This was all happening too fast; Maggie was getting too much information, too much horrible information, too quickly. Her guts turned sour, and she thought she might be sick. “Why? What would lead him to believe…” She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat.
“I don’t know. They haven’t found her body, at least not that I know of, but they keep searching.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t believe you, Thane. This is all too crazy. Mary Theresa is alive, dammit! If something had happened to her, I would know.” She hooked a thumb at her chest and jerked it in the direction of her heart. “I would feel it.”
“How?”