[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

50 Destiny Blaine
Man, he was cocky. Branson must ve thought his stamina was
comparable to a mountain lion s.
 Looks like you haven t wasted much time taking what you
want, Marco snapped, descending toward me and slipping a kiss on
my cheek in passing.
I hurried by him, agitated when he kissed me, pissed because
Marco knew how to tick me off and often did it with a smile. A kiss
wasn t welcomed right then. First, I d thought I was set to enjoy the
early evening by being romped all over my new bedroom. Then, I
discovered Marco had given up any hope of us returning to our old
lives. And finally, I had to face a truth I couldn t deny I had a
building attraction to Branson Braxton.
What was I going to do about that?
* * * *
Alanzo s plane was late. To make matters worse, when his flight
finally arrived, he wasn t on the 737 jet.
I jogged over to Branson s SUV and Marco rolled down the
passenger window.  Tell Alanzo to move his ass. I feel like a sitting
duck out here now.
He should ve stayed at home like Branson suggested, but
evidently Marco didn t want his buddy to spend any time alone with
me. I couldn t blame him.
I pointed toward the baggage claim area, which was visible
because of the large windows.  He must ve taken another flight. He
wasn t on the one from Charlotte.
Branson jumped out of the large vehicle.  Let me check with
airline personnel. Wait here.
Gripping the side of the door, I stared at Marco.  Do what he
said, he bit out.  Get in.
He rolled up his window about the time I opened the back door
and slid across the backseat.
The Third Promise 51
Marco s rigid shoulders answered plenty of unasked questions.
 This isn t good. Alanzo doesn t just disappear. If he were booked on
another flight, he would ve called.
 Suzy, give me a minute.
I yanked my cell from my purse, hit the speed dial option for
Alanzo, and listened to the continual ringing.  He s not picking up.
 Of course he s not answering! Believe me, Alanzo doesn t want
to be anywhere else right now except in that backseat groping you and
telling you how much he missed you. I realize he s in trouble, Suzy!
I flinched. Marco refused to tell me everything was all right
because everything wasn t okay. Tears filled my eyes and I started
fidgeting. After once believing Marco was dead, I was certain of the
fact I couldn t survive if I lost Marco or Alanzo now. Death and I
didn t get along.
Branson returned. He slid behind the wheel of the Jeep and shot
Marco a sideways glance.  Next flight from Charlotte arrives at six
o clock tomorrow morning. All flights into Tri-Cities generally
connect from Charlotte or Atlanta.
 Maybe he missed his original flight altogether. Maybe he ll be on
a commuter from Atlanta. Did you check the flights from Atlanta?
Branson ran his fingers through his thick, sandy brown hair.
 Suzy, Alanzo doesn t have a booked flight on any plane landing here
tomorrow.
 Maybe you re wrong. The airline employees aren t supposed to
give out passenger information. They may have told you whatever it
took to get rid of you.
I felt like a child. Any minute now, I d end sentences with a
but& but& but.
Branson shifted, threw his arm over the back of the seat, and said,
 Look, doll. Alanzo isn t on a plane headed our way. I talked to gals
at both ticket counters and they pulled up various flights. I generally
get what I want from the ladies. A little cash flashed and the sweet
little flowers wilt every time.
52 Destiny Blaine
 I m sure.
His eyes twinkled with mischief and he showed off a piece of
paper.  And one lovely lady was helpful enough to give me her
number to boot. She told me to call her if I needed anything else.
I snatched the stick-it note and ripped it to shreds. Marco turned
around and raised a brow. Branson chuckled.  That should tell you a
lot right there, Marco.
He grumbled something and started going through his cell phone.
 Suzy, what s Corby s number?
 Try Mark. My ex-husband and Marco had formed a friendship
when Marco played football for the PFC s Dallas Rascals.
 I did, he said wearily.  No answer.
I hurriedly scanned through my contact list and found Corby
Teller s number.  It s 777-555-1111.
Marco dialed and motioned for Branson to start driving. A few
seconds later, he shook his head.  No answer. Shit, this is bad.
We had just pulled onto the state highway when Marco said,  Go
back.
Branson looked over at him.  What?
 Go back.
 Why? He wasn t on the damn flight.
 No, but somebody on that plane knows what happened to my
brother. We re going to find out who. I ll show my face, and the first
passenger to react when they see me will be the first one we
question.
Branson grinned.  Why didn t I think of that?
 It s too risky, I blurted out, fearing for Marco s life. If someone
had taken Alanzo, then could Marco be next?
 Maybe so, but it s a chance I have to take. It may be the only one
we have. We need to find Alanzo. If we re going to find him alive,
every second counts.
* * * *
The Third Promise 53
Marco had been right. He walked into the small baggage claim
area and immediately heads turned.
Regardless of Marco s orders for me to remain in the automobile,
I followed them inside. Branson grumbled,  Get back in the damn
Jeep. Let us handle talking to the passengers.
 Not on your life, I said, approaching an elderly couple overly
concerned with Marco s appearance there.  Excuse me, ma am, sir?
Can I ask you a question, please?
I pointed toward Marco when they stopped.  Ma am, my husband,
who looks like him, was on your flight tonight. Do you have any idea
what happened to him?
The older woman took a deep breath and started to say something.
Her husband grabbed her hand and dragged her off before she had the
opportunity to tell me much. She did manage to say,  Yes, I saw
him.
 Ma am, please! I cried out after her.  He s a father and a
husband. Can t you tell me what happened to him? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]