Running for Cover (5 page)

H
ome.

That was the word Jackson had used to describe Spokane, but it wasn’t the word Morgan would use to describe the place where she’d spent thirteen years of her life. It wasn’t that Richard and Sue Alexandria hadn’t tried to make Morgan feel like she was home. It was more that Morgan had always felt like an outsider. A bad apple in a basketful of good ones. Her parents had adopted three other children before Morgan came along and all of them had adjusted beautifully to their new lives. Morgan, on the other hand, had fought tooth and nail to maintain her independence and to preserve her identity.

She hadn’t wanted to forget where she’d come from. Hadn’t wanted to forget the siblings she’d left behind. Had vowed to find them again. By the time she was thirteen, she’d run away so many times and caused so much chaos in the Alexandrias’ home that she’d been sent to spend the summer with her mother’s sister. Aunt Helen lived in a modern mountain cabin far enough from civilization that running had been impossible. It was there that Morgan had learned to throw a pot rather than a tantrum, and during the four summers she’d spent with Helen, she’d finally settled down and settled in.

But she hadn’t found home.

Maybe she never would.

The flight attendant called for economy class to board, and Morgan followed the line of passengers through the boarding bay and onto the plane. Her seat was in the rear, and she carried her bag through the narrow aisle, ignoring the not-so-subtle stares of the other travelers. Obviously, the makeup she’d piled on before Lacey’s wedding wasn’t doing its job. Neither was the Tylenol she’d swallowed before Lacey’s wedding, but she didn’t dare take the painkiller the doctor had prescribed. The last thing she wanted was to be knocked out cold while two men hunted her down.

She muscled her carry-on into the overhead compartment, scooted past a man already reclining in the aisle seat, and settled into the spot near the window, dropping her purse onto the floor near her feet. A young businessman maneuvered into the seat beside her, flipping open a financial magazine and reading it as more people filed past. The flight was full, and her seat had come at a premium after another passenger had cancelled, but Morgan was on the plane and safe.

That was something to be thankful for.

Unfortunately, she wouldn’t stay safe for long if she didn’t figure out why Cody had been killed.

A disk. That’s what the men had wanted.

Which probably meant information.

Financial information?

Cody and his business partner Sean Macmillan had been financial advisers for some high-powered clients. Could one of them have had something to hide? Something that Cody was privy to?

“Excuse me, sir,” a flight attendant said to the man seated beside Morgan. “Would you like to upgrade to first class?”

He shrugged, grabbed his things and followed the stewardess back up the aisle. Minutes later, the flight attendant returned, another passenger with her. Morgan glanced at the new arrival. Looked again.

Tall.

Rangy, muscular build.

Auburn hair.

Blue eyes staring into hers.

Jackson.

The man who’d saved her life.

She’d touched his hand and felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something she’d told herself she would never feel again.

And now he was on the plane.

Sitting in the seat beside her.

She knew she should be angry that he’d followed her, but all she felt was vague surprise and the strange sense that she’d rather have him travel with her than travel alone.

Which wasn’t the truth.

She had been going it alone since the day she’d walked out on Cody, and that was the way she liked it.

“All settled in? Looks like the flight is taking off on time,” he said, acting as if they were on a trip they’d been planning together for years. Acting as if they’d
been
together for years.

“Not with both of us on it, it won’t,” she muttered, knowing there was nothing she could do about his presence. Not even sure she wanted to do anything about it.

And that worried her.

A lot.

“Are you planning on leaving?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good. Because they’ve already closed the doors. We should be cleared to take off in a few minutes.”

“I’m not even going to ask you why you’re here or tell you you shouldn’t be.”

“There’s no need, seeing as how we already discussed things before we boarded.”

“Discussed things and decided that I didn’t need you along for the ride.”

“Actually, we didn’t decide that. You said it. I listened.”

“And then decided to do what you wanted?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you’re wasting your time. It’s not like I’m in imminent danger.”

“Not now, but you may be while you wait for your connecting flight.” He grabbed the end of his seatbelt, his knuckles brushing Morgan’s hip. Heat shot through her, and she shifted, trying to put some distance between them.

She would
not
be attracted to Jackson. Loving Cody had taken everything she had and left her with nothing but a truckload of sadness and resentment.

She wouldn’t go through that again.

Couldn’t
go through it again.

“I don’t plan to leave the airport, so I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said, a moment too late, and he grinned as if he knew just how uncomfortable he made her.

“You may be right, but I’m not going to take any chances.”

“Look, Jackson—”

“We can argue from now until the plane lands, but it won’t change anything. I’m here. Why not just relax and let me help you?”

“Because I don’t need help.” But the words didn’t sound nearly as convincing as she meant them to, and she turned to look out the window.

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” he said quietly.

He was right, of course, and maybe he was right to think that Morgan was in over her head, that she needed whatever protection he could offer, but accepting that would mean accepting him, and Morgan couldn’t allow herself to do it. “True, but right now, I really am fine. During my layover in Chicago, I’ll
sit in the terminal and wait. What could possibly happen in an airport filled with people?”

“My first case as a homicide detective, I investigated a murder that took place on the New York subway in broad daylight. Not one witness to be found.”

“I’d forgotten you were a homicide detective.”

“I didn’t know you ever knew it,” he said, settling more deeply into his seat, his legs stretched out beside Morgan’s. He looked relaxed and comfortable.

Morgan felt crowded and ill at ease.

Being around Jackson reminded her of all the reasons she’d enjoyed being part of a couple. Companionship. Conversation. The feeling of belonging. Those were things she’d been almost desperate for when she’d met Cody. Now she was older, hopefully wiser, and having those things didn’t seem nearly as important.

“Sheriff Reed mentioned it last night, and Lacey told me that you and Jude worked homicide together a few years back.”

“I’m flattered that you remember.” Jackson grinned, and Morgan’s heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t be. I’ve always had a good memory,” she responded, refusing to look away. Her heart might respond to Jackson’s charming smile, but
she
would not.

“A good memory should help.”

“With?”

“Our investigation. I’m sure you realize that you won’t be safe until we find the disk and figure out what’s on it.”

“
We
don’t have to figure out anything. The Lakeview Sheriff’s Department is investigating. I’m sure the New York police are, too.” And she’d join them in the hunt for the disk.
After
she got rid of Jackson.

And she
would
get rid of him. She had enough trouble to deal with without worrying about Jackson and her reaction to him.

Reaction to Jackson?

She wasn’t reacting to anything but fatigue, pain and fear.

At least that’s what she was going to tell herself. It was that or acknowledge the unthinkable—attraction to a man who was just as handsome, just as charming, and just as likely to break her heart as Cody had been.

“I’ve got no doubt they’re working hard to find answers, Morgan, but they don’t have the inside scoop.”

“Inside scoop?”

“You and your memory.”

“I’ve already told the police everything I know.”

“You’d be surprised how much can lurk just beneath conscious thought. If we dig hard enough, we’re bound to find something interesting.”

Everything he said was completely reasonable. Except the
we
part of it.

Morgan pulled a travel pack of pain reliever from her purse and ripped it open, too tired to argue. There’d be time enough to tell Jackson she didn’t want him digging into her life after the plane landed.

“You okay?” Jackson laid a hand on her wrist, the contact shooting warmth up her arm.

“The problem with bruises is they always hurt worse the next day,” she said, easing her arm away.

“I’ll get the flight attendant to bring you some water.” His hand dropped away, but the heat of it seemed to remain.

“And interrupt her safety spiel? I’ll manage without.” She tossed two tablets into her mouth and barely managed to swallow them down, their bitterness forging a hot trail down the back of her throat as the jet picked up speed and began its ascent. Outside, the world sped by, shape bleeding into shape, color into color until it was nothing but a smudged painting without outline or frame.

When Morgan returned to Lakeview, she’d throw a bowl, let
the clay slip between her palms and slicken her fingers. She could picture it in her mind, large and round with a smooth, wide lip. She’d glaze it with the same smudged colors that passed outside the plane’s window. Blues and greens and gray. Splashes of white. When it was complete, she’d set in on the large table to the left of the gallery door. Maybe she’d sell it. Maybe not, but it would be there. Beautiful, real and solid in a way the world outside was not.

It was something to look forward to when she returned.

If
she returned.

“Looks like we’re on our way,” Jackson said, his words carrying over the sound of the jet’s engine and Morgan’s echoing thoughts.

“Looks like it.”

“You don’t seem all that happy to be going home.”

“Spokane isn’t home.”

“Then where is?”

“I’m not sure I’ve figured that out yet,” she said without thinking.

“No?”

“Or maybe I should say that I’ve had so many of them in my life, I haven’t decided which one I should claim as mine.”

“Now I’m curious.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never met someone who couldn’t identify a particular place as home,” he said, studying her with an intensity that made her feel as if they were alone, two people with all the time in the world to get to know one another.

But Morgan didn’t want to get to know Jackson, and she certainly didn’t want him to get to know her. She needed to keep her distance and guard her heart, or she might find herself in a place she didn’t want to be.

“There are millions of people just like me, Jackson. Not
everyone grows up with loving, stable parents, you know. Not everyone comes home to fresh-baked cookies and help with her homework.”

“Sounds like you didn’t have much of a childhood.”

“Let’s just say I grew up quickly, and change the subject. I don’t enjoy talking about the past.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, because if we’re going to figure out where Cody hid that disk, we’re going to have to talk about it a lot.”

“For all I know, Cody never had a disk.”

“You think he’d lie?”

“If he thought he could protect himself by doing so, sure,” she offered, happy to turn the conversation away from herself.

“Even if it meant throwing you to the wolves?”

“If you insist on investigating Cody, you’re going to find out pretty quickly what it took me nearly six years to discover. Cody’s biggest concern was himself. If he were in enough danger, he’d throw his mother to the wolves.”

“Then I guess the question we need to ask is—what was it he was trying to protect himself from?”

“Or who?”

“That, too. Did he have enemies?”

“Probably as many as he had friends. Cody collected people, used them and then discarded them.”

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“Yeah. He was. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a splitting headache, and I’m going to rest my eyes for a while,” she said, quickly closing her eyes and shutting out Jackson’s rugged face and blazing blue-gold gaze.

He was right, of course. Morgan was going to have to dig into the past, think about Cody and try to figure out where he’d hidden the disk. She’d known that since she’d walked out of
the hospital the previous night. What she didn’t have to do was discuss things with a stranger.

A stranger who seemed as familiar as an old friend.

If she let herself, Morgan could imagine sharing more than facts with Jackson. She could imagine telling him about the years she’d spent desperately trying to make her marriage work, could imagine sharing the grief she’d felt when she’d first realized that the man she loved had never really loved her.

But in that direction lay danger.

Jackson shifted, and Morgan opened her eyes, realized that he’d leaned close, was studying her face with an intensity that stole her breath.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her throat tight with emotions she refused to acknowledge.

“Wondering if I should ask the flight attendant for an ice pack for your jaw. It looks like the swelling has gotten worse.” He touched her jaw lightly, his fingers cool against hot, swollen flesh.

“I don’t think an ice pack is going to help at this point,” she responded, pulling away from his touch.

“It might take the swelling down.”

“The swelling is the least of my worries,” she said, shifting in her seat and trying to put a little more distance between them.

“If you keep moving away from me, you’ll burrow a hole in the side of the plane.”