Blogger Bundle Volume VIII: SBTB's Harlequins That Hooked You Read online

  Nick frowned. “Oh yeah? Maybe not the technical end of it, but we know people, Skipper. We need a list of possible suspects, and then we find a motive. Basic police work.”

  “The suspect list is pretty big. Just about any aircraft mechanic would have unsupervised access to those planes. If it wasn’t a mechanic, it could be one of our cops, because it had to be somebody who could get through security. That’s another couple of dozen people, even if we allow only a narrow time frame. It could be any one of the aircrews, too. So how long is the list now? A hundred? More?”

  Nick scowled. “So we eliminate as many as we can.”

  “Sure. Who do we eliminate? People without any gripes? Every GI has a gripe. Besides, it’s hands-off. I told you.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t think about it, ma’am.”

  “I guess not.” Rubbing the back of her neck, Andrea sighed. “Sorry, Nick. Not enough sleep. You think about it. I’ll think about it. But frankly, I just can’t imagine anyone I know wanting to blow a hole in that aircraft.”

  “Isn’t that always what the next door neighbor says after the ax murder? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Tired or not, Andrea laughed. It was true, of course. Nobody could ever imagine that somebody they knew would do such a thing. “You’re right, Nick. That’s what they always say.”

  Chapter 10

  Several afternoons later, Andrea sat at her desk, studying the list of names her staff had compiled. Finding people with the opportunity to get to that aircraft had been easy. What with aircrews, mechanics, and cops, the list held thirty-three names. Discovering who might have a motive was a different matter altogether. OSI had probably compiled this same list of names weeks ago, and they’d gotten nowhere.

  Absently rubbing her shoulder to ease the faint ache that still plagued her, Andrea leaned back in her chair and stared off into space. She would probably be long gone before they discovered the culprit, if they ever did. There just wasn’t enough evidence to go on.

  Why would anyone do such a thing? Greed and revenge were the commonest motivations among people. It was possible that some airman had been paid to set an explosive on that bomber, but that still left the question of the motivation of whoever had paid him. Greed couldn’t be behind that, because it was against official policy for the Air Force to give in to extortion. That left revenge and terrorism, and she had trouble accepting the notion of terrorism, because nobody had called the local or national news. Where was the point in doing something like this if you didn’t call the news and get your free publicity out of it? On the other hand, if somebody had a grudge against a member of that plane’s crew, then there were easier and surer ways of achieving revenge.

  So what did that leave? No motive at all?

  Frustrated with the circles she seemed to be going in, tired from too many nights of not enough sleep and too much thinking about a certain Colonel who appeared to have forgotten her existence, Andrea decided to leave Dolan in charge for the night. She would have an early dinner at the O-Club, followed by a hot shower, and then she’d hit the sack.

  It wasn’t steak night, and it was too early for the evening crowd, so the dining room was fairly empty. A group of B-52 crew members on alert sat in one corner eating dinner and laughing together. Their flight suits indicated their alert status and gave them precedence, whether in being served dinner or in the checkout line at the exchange.

  In another corner a young couple, looking as if they were barely old enough to be married, argued with quiet intensity. Andrea took a corner for herself and sat with her back to the wall as she nursed a beer and waited for her dinner.

  The room was not brightly lit, and Andrea wasn’t certain how long she had stared absently at the laughing pilots before she realized that one of them, glimpsed occasionally as another pilot leaned backward, was Dare MacLendon.

  What was he doing with the alert pilots? she wondered blankly, and then looked quickly away, unwilling to let him catch her staring. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, not when he’d ignored her since Christmas. But wasn’t that what she wanted? No strings? No messy involvement? Her mind said yes, but her heart kept clamoring for more.

  Which was why she should never have broken her own rules. And why she must be sure never to break them again.

  “Good evening, Burke.”

  Well, damn, she thought even as her heart tripped into high gear. Of course he couldn’t just leave without stopping to say something. She looked up, and up, and thought that nobody with the extraordinary build and looks of Dare MacLendon ought to be allowed to parade around in a flight suit. He was smiling down at her, a pleasant, friendly expression.

  “Good evening, Colonel,” she answered politely.

  “Can you give me a minute?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Good.” He turned, looking over his shoulder to answer a remark from the departing pilots, and then pulled out a chair and straddled it. He rested his arms along its back and studied Andrea in silence as she leaned to one side to allow the waiter to serve her dinner.

  “Just a coffee for me,” Dare said in answer to the waiter’s question.

  Andrea felt pleased with the steadiness of her hands as she sliced into her chicken breast. She would not let him know how his proximity affected her. No way. Absolutely not.

  “You look tired, Andrea,” he said quietly in a tone so gentle that her throat tightened. When had anyone ever spoken to her with so much concern? If anyone ever had, she couldn’t recall it.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ve been busy, sir. Have you been flying?”

  “I took up one of the bombers this afternoon on a low-level run. I hear you’ve started a little investigation of your own.”

  Her hands tightened on her knife and fork, and she looked across the table at him. “Who told you that?” And why did she have to remember so vividly just how soft his mouth could be?

  “One of my people told me that one of your folks wanted to know who in the Wing could have had access to that damaged plane. I don’t need somebody to lay it out like a map for me, Andrea.”

  Anger sparked in her green eyes. Now it would come, she thought. He would tell her to leave it alone and to mind her p’s and q’s. And if he did she’d—well, she didn’t know what she’d do. “So?” she asked, and almost winced at the belligerence of her own tone.

  Dare’s eyes narrowed. His voice turned soft as silk, a dangerous sound. “You have a problem with the chain of command, Burke?”

  “No, sir,” she said swiftly, and then sighed. “I’m sorry. Not enough sleep. Right now I think I’m my own worst enemy.”

  He softened, recognizing her fatigue and admitting to himself that it had been easy for her to misconstrue the direction of this conversation. “I only wanted to know if you’ve come up with anything.”

  “Oh.” After a moment she gave him a sheepish smile. “Actually,” she admitted, “all I’ve done is chase my own tail so far. I decided there were three possible motives for the bombing—revenge, money, and terrorism—and then I came up with reasons why it couldn’t be any of them.” Briefly she outlined her reasoning.

  He smiled, and the expression melted the last of the steel from his gaze. “Well, if it’s any consolation, that’s about all OSI has accomplished so far.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. All that muscle and brainpower, and they’re still standing around scratching their heads. I’m not supposed to know that, of course, so don’t tell anyone else.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I know a few people.” God, how he wanted to reach out and touch her. Wrong time, wrong place. Besides, he’d told her to call him if she ever wanted to be with him again, and she hadn’t called. Because of his position, he felt he had to let her set the boundaries on their relationship. He didn’t want her ever to feel that he was using his rank to pressure her into anything.

  “I can tell you one thing,” he said, and fell silent