Wish Upon a Christmas Star (13 page)

A few minutes later, he was in the passenger seat of Maria’s
rental car as she drove through the narrow streets of Key West to the less
touristy side of the island. He listened without interrupting while she relayed
her conversation with Caroline and the other woman’s fear that the nude photos
could hurt her fiancé’s chances of becoming a congressman.

“I remember when Samuel Tolliver was govenor, but I don’t know
anything about his son,” Logan said.

“Austin Tolliver has a squeaky-clean image,” Maria said. “He’s
running on a family values platform.”

“That explains why Caroline is panicking,” Logan said. “If
those photos get out, it could wreck Tolliver’s campaign.”

“Exactly.” Maria braked for a red light, turning to look at
him. “But the important thing is that the envelopes Caroline received were
postmarked almost a week apart. Even if Mike doesn’t live in Key West, there’s a
very good chance he’s still around.”

“I don’t know, Maria,” Logan said, shaking his head. “I’m not
convinced Mike sent the envelopes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Caroline said he took those nude photos.
Who else could have sent them?”

“Mike could have given the photos to somebody before he left
for New York,” Logan argued.

“I can’t see him doing that.”

“It doesn’t make sense that he had the photos with him that
morning,” Logan said.

“Sure it does,” Maria countered. “He always carried a backpack.
The photos could have been inside.”

Logan couldn’t remember what Mike had taken with him that
morning when he left for work, but it was possible he’d had a backpack. Logan
had shipped Mike’s other belongings to his parents’ house after the tragedy.

A horn sounded from a car behind them. The light was green.
Maria refocused on the road and stepped on the gas. She traveled half a block
before she spoke again.

“Let’s say you’re right and Mike did give those photos to
somebody,” she said. “Why would this person contact Caroline pretending he was
Mike?”

“He’s a blackmailer, Maria. There could be lots of reasons to
remain anonymous.”

“Not all blackmailers care if you know who they are,” she said.
“Some of them just want what they want.”

She kept her eyes on the road. Appropriate, he thought. She had
tunnel vision where this subject was concerned.

“We’re talking about your little brother, Maria,” he said. “Do
you really think Mike would have it in him to blackmail somebody?”

“Not Mike the teenager, no,” Maria said. “But who knows what
he’s been through in the last eleven years or what his life is like?”

Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “Sorry. I don’t buy
it.”

“That’s because you can’t open your mind to possibilities,” she
said, restating a familiar refrain. “I told you how Caroline broke up with Mike.
If he was going to blackmail someone, it would be her.”

“Does Caroline have a lot of money?” Logan asked.

“She says no,” Maria said, “but her fiancé is loaded.”

“If she wants to keep Tolliver in the dark about the nude
photos, she won’t ask him for money.”

“She won’t have to ask anybody. Once I find Mike, I’ll convince
him Caroline’s not worth getting into trouble over. If he needs money, I can
give him some. I know our parents would be glad to help, too.”

She was talking as though any doubt in her mind about Mike not
having survived 9/11 was gone.

She pulled into the parking lot in front of the nondescript
two-story building that housed the newspaper office and switched off the
ignition.

“Hey.” She turned and gave him a sharp look. “Shouldn’t you be
on your way to the airport?”

“I’m not leaving today,” he said, realizing he’d made the
decision the moment he’d stepped into the car.

“But I thought you had dinners with clients lined up,” she
said.

“I’ll cancel them.” Logan would need to figure out something to
tell his boss that wouldn’t jeopardize his possible promotion. “If you’re not
leaving Key West today, then neither am I.”

Wasn’t that the real reason he hadn’t checked out of his hotel
this morning or purchased the return plane ticket? Hadn’t he known deep down
that Maria would remain on the island and continue to search for her
brother?

She stared at him, pressing her lips together as if trying to
decide something. “Why are you staying? Is it because you want to sleep with me
again?”

“I told you why,” he said. “I don’t like thinking of you in Key
West all by yourself so close to Christmas.”

“Then it’s okay with you if we forget what happened last
night?”

His body already craved her again. “Why would we forget
something so amazing?”

“Circumstances have changed,” she said. “I wouldn’t have slept
with you if I knew you were staying. I’m not getting involved with you, Logan.
If we keep sleeping together, I’ll just get hurt.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he protested.

“Not deliberately,” she said, “but we don’t fit. Maybe we never
did. I’d hate New York and you’ll never move back to Kentucky.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Really? So if you get that promotion, you’ll pass it up?”

He’d been working toward the promotion for years, putting in
untold extra hours, never complaining because he knew the payoff was coming that
would solidify a secure future. “No,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t.”

“Now that we understand each other, let’s go.” She got out of
the car, as though that was the final word on the subject.

It wasn’t, not by a long shot. At the moment, however, Logan
couldn’t come up with an argument to counter what she’d said.

* * *

T
HE
PHOTOGRAPHER
WHO
HAD
arranged to meet her at the newspaper office
this morning was late.

Kayla blinked her gritty eyes and took another hit of the
coffee that had helped her stay awake all night.

When morning dawned and she’d survived another night without
the Santa statue being defaced, she probably should have gotten some shut-eye.
Instead, she’d called the newspaper to get a contact number for James Smith, the
photographer who’d taken the photo of Zombie Santa. She figured he was the same
guy she’d seen at a distance the other morning. Smith happened to be in the
office. He’d been preoccupied but a coworker relayed the message that he could
meet her as soon as she got there.

So here she was, slumped in a tiny reception area at the
Key West Sun,
waiting on him. James Smith had left
word with the security guard that he needed to step out of the office. He hadn’t
said when he’d return.

Kayla had elected to wait for James instead of going into the
newsroom with Maria and her ex-boyfriend. A metro reporter had agreed to look at
the age progression photo of Mike DiMarco and answer Maria’s questions. After
giving them visitor badges, about fifteen minutes ago the security guard had
admitted them to the newsroom.

The door to the inner offices opened and Maria and her ex
emerged. Logan Collier, that was his name. Aside from Alex Suarez, Logan was the
most appealing man Kayla had seen in a long time. He had thick brown hair shot
through with gold, and pretty hazel eyes that lingered on Maria. He stood closer
to her than he would have if they were merely acquaintances.

Whatever had once been between them, Kayla thought, wasn’t
over.

“Was the reporter helpful?” she asked.

Maria gave a quick negative shake of her head. “Neither were
the other employees he introduced us to. I should have tried later, when more
people are in.”

“You can come back,” Kayla said.

“I intend to.”

Kayla directed her attention to Logan. “It’s great Maria has
you helping her. Have you done this kind of thing before?”

“Hardly,” he said. “I’m a financial advisor, but I’ve got a
vested interest in her case. Mike was staying at my place before the towers
fell.”

“Such a terrible, tragic day.” The memory was so vivid in
Kayla’s mind, it was as though it had happened yesterday. She’d been in English
class at her high school. After the news hit, students had huddled around
televisions, tears streaming down their faces. “To think that Mike could still
be feeling the aftershocks.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Logan said.

“Maria told me what a good kid her brother was. Troubled, but a
good kid,” Kayla said. “It makes you wonder what happened in his life that he
might be resorting to blackmail.”

“I’m not convinced he is,” Logan said. “It seems out of
character for Mike.”

“That’s my point. Is it out of character?” Kayla asked. “Think
about how it would mess with your mind if you were supposed to be at the World
Trade Tower that day. Who knows how that would change you?”

“I’d never thought of it that way,” Logan said.

“That’s why they pay us private investigators the big bucks,”
Kayla quipped, wishing it were so. Not so much the compensation part, although
big bucks would be nice. She longed to be a full-fledged investigator and not a
girl on a tryout.

“Are you making any progress on the Santa case?” Maria
asked.

“Not much. I’m hoping this photographer will know something.
He’s the one who got the photo of Zombie Santa,” Kayla said. “How about you?
What’s your next step?”

“More of the same, I guess,” Maria said. “We’ve pretty much
exhausted the search in the tourist area. I thought we’d concentrate on the
quieter part of the island.”

“Did my mom have any suggestions?”

“Only that I talk to your uncle,” Maria answered. “She said he
knows everybody on the island.”

“Oh, my gosh, he does,” Kayla said. “Why didn’t I think of
that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Maria said. “I already faxed Mike’s
picture to your uncle Carl. He didn’t recognize him.”

“Uncle Carl does know a lot of people, but I think my mom was
talking about Uncle Frank. He’s retired now, but he delivered mail on the island
for forty years.”

Maria’s face brightened. “I didn’t know you had two uncles.
Where can I find Frank?”

Kayla gave her the information and sensed Maria’s eagerness to
check out the new lead as soon as possible.

“Why don’t you give me one of those age progressions of Mike to
show to the photographer?” Kayla offered. “That way, you and Logan can get out
of here. Uncle Frank’s a creature of habit. He’ll be exactly where I told
you.”

Maria and Logan took her suggestion, and moments later Kayla
was alone again, the age-enhanced photo clutched in her hand. She tilted her
head back and let her eyes close.

“Kayla Fryburger, it sure is good to see you.”

Kayla’s eyes snapped open at the pronouncement. She must have
fallen asleep. Standing in front of her was a man about her age who looked
familiar. He resembled a surfer in long baggy shorts, a Hawaiian shirt and
flip-flops. His sandy-blond hair was tied at his nape and a few days’ growth of
beard offset features that were almost pretty, especially his long-lashed green
eyes.

“James Smith.” He tapped his chest and gazed at her
expectantly. She squinted, trying to think how she knew him.

“You’re hurting my feelings here,” he said with a lopsided
smile. “You might remember me as Jimbo.”

“Jimbo Smith?” Kayla’s mouth dropped open. They’d gone to high
school together. He’d even sat beside her in a number of classes. “How much
weight have you lost?”

She covered her mouth with her fingers and grimaced. “Forget I
said that. It’s none of my business.”

“No, I don’t mind.” He waved a hand. Slung over one of his arms
was a digital camera. “Eighty-five pounds.”

Jimbo—no, James—was way taller than Kayla but probably no more
than five feet eight. Subtract eighty-five pounds from a man of that size and no
wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

“You look great.” She ran her eyes down the length of him,
taking in his tan, toned limbs. He was just right, neither too fat nor too
thin.

“You do, too,” he said. “But then you’ve always looked
fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Kayla said, surprised by the effusiveness behind the
compliment. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since high school. You’d think we would
have run into each other before now.”

“I only moved back to Key West a few months ago, when I got the
job at the
Sun,
” James said. “I jumped at the
chance. I never forgave my parents for moving when I was a junior in high
school.”

He hadn’t graduated from high school with her? Why didn’t she
remember that?

“It’s nice to have you back.” She injected enthusiasm into her
voice to make up for not noticing he’d left town.

“Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” he said. “A motorboat crashed
into the dock and another ship last night. I needed to get the photo before
somebody cleaned up the damage.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Kayla said. “I’m thankful you could
meet with me at all.”

“For you, anything,” he said with a wide grin. “You want to get
a cup of coffee?”

She picked up her cup from the table beside her and held it
out. “I’m good on coffee. What I need is information.”

“Cool,” he said. “Nobody will be in Photography. We can talk
there.”

Aside from the blown-up photos lining the walls, the
photography department looked as bland as the rest of the place. Beige carpet,
beige walls, desks nestled inside cubicles beside photography equipment.

James rolled out a desk chair for her, waited until she sat
down and hoisted himself up on the edge of the desk. His calves were nicely
toned, she noticed.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Two things, actually.”

First she asked if he recognized Mike DiMarco and discovered
Maria had beaten her to the punch. She and Logan had run into the photographer
when they were leaving the newspaper office. James was already in possession of
an age-progression image Maria had asked him to show around the office.