Wish Upon a Christmas Star (12 page)

“Like a sea turtle,” one of his friends added. The entire group
laughed.

Maria didn’t acknowledge their comments. She couldn’t. Her
throat seemed to close up. Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back.

Logan’s arm came around her, gathering her close. “I’m sorry
you keep getting disappointed.”

She nodded. No matter how certain he was that Mike was dead,
she didn’t doubt Logan was sorry.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, repeating his words from
earlier in the evening.

Maria walked beside him back to the hotel on autopilot, her
mind trying to think through the puzzle. On an island as compact as Key West,
somebody should have recognized her brother’s picture by now. Maybe Sergeant
Peppler had been right about Mike not being a local. If he was a tourist who
happened to be in Key West when he’d mailed the letter, he could be living
anywhere, maybe even on one of the other keys in the island chain. Or maybe he’d
gotten wind that Maria was searching for him and had gone underground again.

“What are you thinking?” Logan asked. They were in the hotel
elevator, with his hand resting against her back.

“Lots of things,” she said. “Mostly I’m trying to come up with
reasons we can’t pick up Mike’s trail.”

Logan appeared about to say something. She held up a palm.
“Don’t say anything about 9/11. I don’t think I can bear to hear any of your
negativity right now.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he said. “Believe me, I don’t like to
think about that day any more than you do.”

She remembered what he’d told her at the restaurant in
Lexington, about talking Mike into going to his job that day. At the time, all
Maria could hear was verification that Mike had been thinking about quitting,
giving her hope that he’d ignored Logan’s advice. Now, however, she identified
the guilt in Logan’s voice.

“You couldn’t have known what would happen,” she said. “Nobody
could.”

“Yeah, but I did know Mike was an unhappy high school dropout a
thousand miles from home,” he said. “I could have talked him into going
back.”

“He wouldn’t have come,” she said. “Not after I drove him
away.”

“What are you talking about?” Logan asked.

Maria dug into her purse, removing a large key chain imprinted
with the hotel’s name. She inserted the old-fashioned key in the lock and pushed
open the door to her room. “Perhaps you’d better come in. I have a story you
need to hear.”

* * *

A
FTER
MUSTERING
UP
the resolve to leave Maria’s
hotel room the night before, Logan had vowed not to put himself in the same
position again. Yet here he was for the second time, alone with her late at
night.

The attraction that still simmered between them, however, was
taking a backseat to what she had to tell him. Whatever it was had her on edge.
He was surprised to see that her room had a minibar, since the hotel was short
on frills. She hadn’t had alcohol all night but went straight there now and
removed a small bottle of whiskey.

“I make a mean whiskey and water,” she said. Even her joke
sounded strained. “Want to share?”

“Sure,” he said, not so much because he was craving a drink but
because he didn’t want her to drink alone.

She poured a glass for him and one for herself before settling
in the armchair at a corner of the room. He’d chosen the chair at the desk. He
was anxious to hear what she had to say, but didn’t prompt her, figuring she’d
tell him at her own pace.

Maria swallowed some whiskey and made a face, telling him she
wasn’t used to it. He heard her sigh.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for anything involving Mike,” she
said at last. Lines of strain bracketed her pretty mouth. He’d switched on the
lamp at the desk and the light picked up the pain in her blue eyes. “If not for
me, he wouldn’t have been in New York in the first place.”

Logan balanced his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward, his
mind on the past and what Mike DiMarco had told him about his reasons for
leaving Kentucky. “I had the impression Mike dropped out of school because of
Caroline Webb.”

“Caroline’s not blameless, that’s for sure,” Maria said. “Did
you know she was Mike’s first girlfriend? He was shy growing up, without a lot
of female friends. I’m certain she made the first move.”

“Mike always seemed sure of himself to me.”

“He was only fourteen when you and I were going out. As he got
older, being the brother of a star athlete was hard on him.” She was referring
to her other brother, Jack, who pitched briefly in the major leagues before he
was sidelined by an injury. “Mike couldn’t keep up with Jack in either sports or
schoolwork. After a while, he stopped trying.”

“I’m sure Mike had other things going for him,” Logan said.

“Oh, he did. He was a really good guitar player and he could
fix anything,” she said. “But his self-esteem was already low by the time he
started dating Caroline. Then it got lower.”

“Getting a girlfriend usually has the opposite effect,” Logan
remarked.

“Caroline was a pretty terrible girlfriend. She was always
bossing Mike around to get her way. She’d get him to do stuff like skip school
to stand in line for concert tickets. Or blow off studying to take her to the
movies. That kind of nonsense. His grades started to suffer and he’d have these
blowout arguments with our parents. It was like living in a war zone.”

Logan thought that was a strange statement. He’d heard that
Maria had moved into an apartment in downtown Lexington with her husband as soon
as they married. “But you didn’t live there, right?”

She looked confused for a moment before she nodded. “Oh, right.
But you know how close my family is. We know each other’s business. And, well,
Caroline reminded me of Jerry.”

“Because Jerry tried to boss you around, too?”

“Exactly.”

“It doesn’t sound like Mike resented that as much as you
did.”

“Caroline’s one of those women who use sex as a weapon,” Maria
said. “Mike was obsessed with her and did whatever she told him to. She even got
him into pot. She wasn’t hooked on it like Mike was, but when I caught him
smoking, he told me he tried it the first time because she wanted to
experiment.”

“So far all I’ve heard is that Mike got mixed up with the wrong
girl,” Logan said. “I still don’t see how you were to blame for him turning up
in New York.”

“I haven’t told you everything yet.” Maria started to take
another drink of her whiskey and water and seemed surprised that she’d already
finished it. “I couldn’t stand the way Caroline treated Mike. She’d blow him
off, then he’d hear she’d been out with friends. When I found out she wanted him
to wear a pink tux to homecoming, I lost it.”

“I don’t get it,” Logan said. “Why would you care about
something like that?”

“It seems silly now, but in high school those things matter,”
she said. “Mike was afraid the other kids would laugh at him. He wouldn’t tell
Caroline how he felt, though. He never did. Not until I shamed him into sticking
up for himself.”

Logan sensed they were getting to the crux of the story. “I
take it things didn’t go well?”

“They couldn’t have gone worse. Mike confronted her about the
pink tux in the cafeteria,” Maria said. “I heard later that Caroline erupted,
calling him a loser and an embarrassment. She said she was sick of him, anyway,
and there was another guy who’d take her to homecoming.”

“Pretty tough stuff for a teenager in love to hear.”

“Mike was so upset he ran out of the cafeteria and drove home.
He sideswiped a car on the way,” she said. “I didn’t know about that when he
came through the door, but I was surprised to see him home. I asked what was
going on.”

Logan was starting to get the impression that Maria had spent
more time at her parents’ house than her own apartment. Maybe her marriage had
been more troubled than she’d admitted.

“Mike started shouting at me. He told me Caroline had broken up
with him. He said it was my fault, that things were going fine before I butted
in. I tried to tell him he was better off without her, but he wouldn’t listen.
He stormed to his room, packed some things and drove off.” Maria wiped at her
eyes and he noticed they were watery. “That was the last time I saw him.”

Understanding dawned. Logan reached across the space between
them and took her hand. It was cold to the touch. “Now I understand why it’s so
hard for you to accept that Mike is dead.”

“I want so badly for a second chance,” she said in a broken
voice. “I need him to know I’m sorry and that I love him.”

“I know you do.” Logan squeezed her hand gently. “But you’re a
private investigator, Maria. You operate on facts, and you haven’t turned up any
evidence that points to Mike being alive. You’ve got to put aside your emotions
and listen to what your investigation is telling you.”

She wiped at her eyes a second time. “I know.”

“You have to go back to Lexington, Maria. Annalise can make
excuses for you only for so long,” he continued. “You don’t want your mom and
dad to get their hopes up that Mike might be alive, too, do you?”

“I wanted to bring Mike home to them for the holidays,” she
said. “That would be the best present I could give them.”

“Your family’s gotten used to holidays without Mike, but they
need to have you there with them,” Logan said. “Let me book a flight back to
Lexington for you. I’ll even pay for it.”

“No, thank you,” she said with a touch of her characteristic
spirit. “I can book and pay for my own flight.”

“Okay. But in the morning, we’ll drive to the airport
together.”

“I’ll probably be flying out of Miami.”

“Then I’ll drive up there with you.”

“No.” She blinked a few times, drying her eyes. “Not only do
you need to get back to New York but I’ve never been good at goodbyes.”

“Me, neither.” He thought about the terrible day she’d finally
realized he had no intention of going to art school and moving in with her. No
matter what he’d said, she wouldn’t let go of her pie-in-the-sky notion that all
they needed was love.

“Then this is goodbye,” she’d told him.

She swallowed now. “It would be easier if we said our goodbyes
right here.”

“Tonight?” he asked. “Don’t you at least want to get together
for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

She shook her head.

He felt moisture in his own eyes. Dropping her hand, he raised
his fingers to her cheek and lightly traced her soft skin. He didn’t need to
memorize her face. It was already burned into his brain.

“Maria DiMarco,” he whispered, “I’m going to miss you.”

Thinking this might be the last chance he’d ever have to kiss
her, he pulled her to her feet and lowered his head. Slowly, so she’d have a
chance to back away. Instead, she strained toward him, clasping his shoulders
and accepting his kiss.

Her lips clung to his. One of her hands snaked around his nape
and she buried her fingers in the hair. She used to do that when they were
teenagers. She’d make soft noises in the back of her throat, too, the way she
was now.

Logan didn’t need to coax her mouth open. She touched her
tongue to the tip of his, then deepened the kiss herself. And then they were
kissing in earnest, her body pressed so close to his that he could feel the soft
outline of her breasts against his chest.

He felt himself grow hard, not surprised that he was getting so
turned on merely by a kiss. He’d experienced the same lightning-quick reaction
years ago whenever he took her in his arms. It had happened the other night,
too. Her tongue teased his and he slanted his mouth to kiss her even more
thoroughly. She rubbed against his erection, and he groaned.

Soon kisses wouldn’t be enough. He’d had the willpower to put a
halt to things the night before. He tried to stop now, lifting his mouth from
hers, but she trailed kisses from the side of his mouth down his neck. He
shivered.

“I...can’t stop. Not tonight.” He could barely choke out the
words. “You...have to.”

She gazed up at him, her clear blue eyes steady on his. “I
don’t want to stop. I want to make love to you.”

Maria ran her hands over his back, keeping her body anchored to
his. She sounded far more in control than he was.

“Are you sure?” he rasped.

“Very sure. I don’t want to keep wondering what it would be
like to make love with you.”

If he wasn’t having problems formulating sentences, he would
have told her she wasn’t the only one who wondered. He’d been fantasizing about
her for years.

“I ask only one thing,” she said.

His head was already lowering again, his mouth hovering above
hers. He wanted to kiss her so badly he could barely restrain himself. “Name
it.”

“You can’t be here in the morning.”

His knee-jerk reaction was to refuse, but was it really such an
unreasonable request? Tomorrow they’d go their separate ways. Tonight was for
satisfying their curiosity about what it would be like to spend a night in each
other’s arms. Once they had, they could put the past behind them once and for
all and get on with their separate futures.

“Okay,” he said and closed his mouth over hers.

CHAPTER NINE

M
AKING
LOVE
TO
L
OGAN
wasn’t like Maria had thought it would be. It was infinitely better.

He unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra, his eyes
darkening when her breasts spilled free. She felt her nipples harden even though
he wasn’t touching her. She reached for the waistband of her skirt and shimmied
out of the garment, reveling in the way his eyes seemed to drink in the sight of
her.

“You’re even lovelier than I thought you’d be,” he
breathed.

“I want to see you, too.” She stepped toward him and reached
for the bottom of his shirt, helping him to pull it over his head. He looked
different than he had as a teenager, his musculature more defined, but of course
he was almost fifteen years older. She felt her lashes grow damp. So many years
had passed.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, brushing a tear from beneath
her eye.

She nodded, swallowing back the emotion. “I’m more than
okay.”

She gently traced the discolored skin under his left eye, where
he’d taken a punch for her. Then she lifted her mouth and kissed him, enjoying
the feel of her bare breasts against the hair-sprinkled skin of his chest. It
seemed as though she’d been waiting forever to be in his arms like this. No
matter how deeply she kissed him, it wasn’t enough. She was plastered against
him but longed to be closer.

The feel of the mattress against the back of her legs came as a
surprise. She hadn’t been aware he was moving them toward the bed. He lowered
her gingerly, kissing her the entire time, until they were stretched out beside
each other.

She drew back slightly and undid the top button of his shorts.
He lifted his hips and she helped him get rid of them and his underwear. He
gathered her against him and her heart stuttered, then galloped.

How had they been able to resist this when they were teenagers?
Maria had been ultraconscious of teen pregnancy because of Annalise, but she
also remembered thinking there was no rush, that she and Logan had all the time
in the world. She never would have imagined she wouldn’t make love to him until
she was thirty-two.

She ran a hand from his broad shoulder to his hip, pulling him
toward her, getting lost in his kiss. His hands seemed to be everywhere,
stroking her breasts, smoothing over her stomach, tracing the outline of her
hips and her bottom. His kisses went on and on, as though they really did have
all the time in the world. Yet she’d waited fifteen years. She couldn’t wait any
longer.

“Now,” she said, reaching down and stroking him, guiding him
toward her. “I want you now.”

“We’ve got time,” he said, strain evident in his voice. “I want
to make it good for you.”

The other men she’d been with had been much more concerned with
satisfying themselves than with gratifying her. She groaned.

“Logan Collier,” she said, “if you don’t make love to me right
now, I’ll have to hurt you.”

He was laughing slightly when he slid inside her. She was wet
and ready even though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made love. Being
with Logan drove thoughts of everybody but him from her mind. She marveled at
how perfectly they fit together, how they seemed to anticipate each other’s
needs as though they were longtime lovers.

Far too soon, her inner contractions started. She closed her
eyes, desperately wanting to prolong the experience, wanting for them to climax
together. “It’s already happening.”

“Not yet,” he said.

He slowed down, instinctively knowing exactly how to prolong
the pleasure. She opened her eyes, watching the strain on his face, knowing he
was holding back because of her.

“We can go faster,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Oh, no.” He kept up his slow, sensual assault. “We only have
one first time.”

Tears pricked her eyes again, but now there was no sadness,
only joy. He rolled onto his back and pulled her over so she was on top of him,
changing the angle, then starting again, all in an effort to make the pleasure
last. She lost all sense of time as he continued to prolong the delight, barely
able to form any thoughts except that nothing had ever felt so right.

“Please,” she finally said against his mouth, hardly knowing
whether she was pleading for their lovemaking to continue or for her
release.

He picked up the rhythm and she matched his pace, clinging to
him and breathing his name as sensations burst inside her. She saw colors
reminiscent of those that had appeared in the Key West sky at sunset. Wave after
wave of pleasure rolled through her, the aftershocks even more powerful than the
initial release.

“Maria,” he groaned, his climax following hers, sending more
ripples through her body. When it was finally over, his arms tightened around
her with their bodies still joined. Neither of them made a move.

“I never imagined it would be like that,” she said, snuggling
against him.

“I did,” he said, and kissed her again.

They made love one more time in the middle of the night. The
lovemaking was as passionate but the tempo more frantic, as though they both
realized time was running out on them. Maria fell into a deep, exhausted sleep
with Logan’s arms still around her.

She dreamed of shooting stars and Rollerblades under the
Christmas tree and her brother Mike throwing back his head and laughing the way
he used to when they were young. She woke up with the images imprinted on her
brain. No, not images. Signs.

She’d made the decision to leave Key West last night, when
things had seemed darkest. Light spilled over her now, clarifying her thoughts
and highlighting the folly of ignoring signs. If she didn’t reach for the sky,
how could she expect a miracle?

She couldn’t leave Key West. Not yet. Not when she hadn’t
exhausted all her resources.

She turned over to tell Logan of her decision, but his side of
the bed was empty. She inhaled sharply before remembering the promise she’d
extracted from him, to not be there in the morning.

Disappointment sliced through her, as sharp as any knife. She
fortified herself against it. Of course it was for the best that Logan was gone.
They’d said their goodbyes last night. Not only did his absence save her from
another wrenching parting but she might make better progress on the case now
that she didn’t have to deal with his skepticism. So why didn’t she feel
glad?

She pushed the hair from her face and stretched out on the
sheets, feeling the slight soreness in her muscles. She could still feel the
imprint of his body on hers. When she turned her head, she could smell his heady
scent lingering on the pillows.

She ran her hand over the side of the bed where he’d slept,
finding the sheets cool to the touch. She sighed. If Logan hadn’t listened to
her, they could be making love right now.

Sitting up abruptly, she swung her legs off the bed and rose.
She’d gone way too long without a man if a single night had her thinking like
this.

Annalise was right. Maria needed to date more. When she got
back to Lexington, she could let her sister fix her up with that guy from church
she was always telling her about.

Everything inside Maria rebelled at the thought and she knew
that she wouldn’t carry through, that no other man could be a replacement for
Logan.

On the way to the bathroom, she passed the spot where he had
kissed her the night before. Before she could fully relive the moment, she
crossed to the sink, turned on the faucet and deliberately splashed cold water
on her face.

She couldn’t think about Logan now. She needed to figure out
the next step in her quest to find Mike.

She hadn’t come up with anything by the time she got out of the
shower. Her cell phone pealed when she’d barely dried off.

“Logan,” she breathed.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she rushed to the bedside table
where she’d left the phone and picked it up.

Not him. The number, which looked vaguely familiar, had a
Lexington area code. Maria shook her head, dismayed at herself for hoping it was
Logan.

She pressed the key that answered the call. “Maria DiMarco
here.”

“Maria, it’s Caroline Webb. I need to know what you’ve found
out about your brother.”

Maria bristled at the other woman’s demanding tone. She’d
managed to be civil toward her during their first encounter but it had taken an
effort.

“Really?” She sat down on the unmade bed. “If my memory serves
me correctly, you weren’t particularly interested in what I found out as long as
Mike left you alone.”

“That’s the problem,” Carolina said in a clipped voice. “He
isn’t leaving me alone. He contacted me again.”

“What?” Maria’s heart raced. Adrenaline shot through her. She’d
been right all along. Mike was alive. “Did he call you again? What did he
say?”

“He didn’t call. I got another envelope. It must have come
yesterday, but I forgot to check my mail slot until this morning.”

“What was in the envelope?”

There was silence at the other end of the line. It stretched
for so long that Maria stared down at her phone, afraid her cell service had
dropped the call.

“Caroline?” she said. “Are you still there?”

More silence, then she answered, “I’m still here. I’d rather
not say what was in the envelope.”

“What? How do you expect me to find Mike if you won’t give me
all the details?”

“Then you haven’t been able to track him down? I thought you
were going to Key West.”

“I’m here right now,” Maria said. “I’m not sure Mike is.”

“He must be,” Caroline said. “This second envelope was
postmarked Tuesday from there.”

Tuesday, three days ago. The day Maria had arrived in
Florida.

“For whatever reason, it seems Mike doesn’t want to be found,”
Maria said. “Caroline, you have to tell me what was inside the envelope. I need
to know everything so I can figure out where to look for him.”

She hesitated again. “My fiancé can’t find out. Neither can
anyone else.”

“I’m not following you,” Maria said, her frustration spilling
over into her voice.

“It was a note.” Caroline cleared her throat. “And some more
photos.”

The photo in the first envelope had been of Caroline
strategically positioned on a bearskin rug. She’d said it was the only one Mike
had ever taken of her in the nude.

“You mean more
naked
photos?” Maria
asked.

“Yes. These are a little more...explicit.”

That explained why Caroline hadn’t told her about them. She was
obviously reluctant to share additional details.

“Was anything else in the envelope besides the photos?” Maria
pressed.

“There was a note, as I said.” Caroline cleared her throat.
“I’ll read it to you.”

Maria heard the rustling of paper, then Caroline’s shaky
voice.

“‘I came close to dying that day,’” she read. “‘You’ll pay or
these go public. Instructions to come.’”

* * *

L
OGAN
WAITED
FOR
THE
elevator in the
lobby of Maria’s hotel, breathing in the scent of pastries and coffee wafting up
from the white take-out bag he carried.

It wasn’t yet 8:00 a.m., which meant that theoretically he had
time to catch the noon flight to New York City and fulfill his obligations that
night. He’d need to get to the airport with plenty of time to spare, because
extra security measures were a reality of life since 9/11. As long as he didn’t
linger with Maria, he should be fine.

He would deliver the breakfast, explain that he couldn’t take
off without a word after the night they’d spent together, and say a proper
goodbye.

If she gave him a hard time, he’d argue that he’d honored her
wishes to be gone from her bed before morning. He was simply coming back.

He pressed the button for the elevator, wondering why it was
taking so long. He should have used the stairs. He would have if they’d been
beside the elevator. He was debating going in search of them when the elevator
doors slid open.

Maria rushed out, nearly plowing into him. Her eyes flew to his
face and grew round in surprise. He got ready to be chastised for not listening
to her.

“Logan! I’m so glad you haven’t left yet,” she exclaimed,
laying a hand on his arm. He felt the connection that had been between them last
night bloom to life.

He held up the bag. “I brought you breakfast. Cuban roast
coffee, pain au chocolat and an apricot croissant.” He’d chosen the foods
carefully, thinking that it would be harder for her to be angry with him if her
mouth was watering.

“I don’t have time to eat right now,” she said. “Caroline Webb
just called me. Mike contacted her again!”

With her long hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail and wrinkles
creasing the cargo shorts she wore with a short-sleeved tee, she should have
looked far from her best. Hope and excitement practically vibrated from her,
however, infusing her complexion with color and making her blue eyes shine.

“Caroline talked to Mike?” Logan asked, hearing the skepticism
in his voice.

“Well, no,” she said. “But he sent her another envelope. He
mailed it from Key West on Tuesday, Logan. That was only three days ago! And to
think that just last night I was ready to give up looking for him.”

“Slow down,” he said. “What was inside the envelope?”

She checked her watch. “I don’t have time to get into it right
now. I’m meeting Kayla at the
Key West Sun.
She’s
going to ask some photographer about the Santa statue, but it’s an opportunity
to see if anybody at the newspaper knows anything about Mike.”

That wasn’t a bad idea. Journalists had their fingers on the
pulse of the community.

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “You can fill me in along the
way.”