Twice Kissed. Lisa Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ windows. Sunlight danced over the patches of snow that clung to the ground, and the room was suddenly awash with bright morning light. But as Maggie looked out the window, she saw the storm clouds gathering in the distance, gray and threatening, promising more snow than had been left in the middle of the night.

      Becca, groaning, rolled over in bed, and the ice bag, a Ziploc plastic container now filled with water, tumbled to the floor. Fortunately, it didn’t burst open. “What’s so lucky about it?”

      “You’re flying to California.” Maggie picked up the bag.

      Becca’s eyes sprang open. She pushed herself into a sitting position. “What happened?” she asked suspiciously as she rubbed her eyes and yawned.

      “I decided you were right. I have to go to Denver.” Maggie sighed and sat on the window ledge as the bright morning began to fade and the storm clouds encroached. “I don’t know what happened to Mary Theresa,” she admitted, staring at the clear sagging bag of water that had once been ice. “And I’m the only family she has left, so I’m going to Denver.”

      “Cool.” Becca didn’t seem too worried about her missing aunt.

      “Now, let’s look at that ankle of yours.” She walked to the bed and Becca willingly showed off her bruised and swollen foot. Gingerly, Maggie ran a finger over her daughter’s skin. Becca didn’t wince.

      “It’s better.”

      “It is?”

      “Much,” Becca assured her. It seemed as if the swelling had, indeed, gone down, though the area around Becca’s ankle had turned an even uglier shade of green-blue this morning and the discoloration had spread, running down to the back of her heel.

      “If you say so.” She forced a smile as she straightened, then walked to the bathroom, where she dumped the contents of the bag into the sink and tossed the used plastic into a wastebasket. “This isn’t the greatest time for you to visit Connie and Jim,” she said, returning to Becca’s room. It looked as if the proverbial cyclone had hit with the clothes, towels, books, and magazines scattered helter-skelter on the floor and every other available surface.

      “Sure it is.” Becca wasn’t going to relinquish her mother’s promise. “You can’t change your mind.”

      “I won’t.” Maggie hated leaving Becca while the kid was still struggling with crutches. Not that she had much choice in the matter, considering the circumstances. “So, I’ve already called Connie, and the airlines, and your teacher at home,” Maggie said, updating her daughter and ignoring her unease at leaving Becca with Dean’s relatives, who sometimes seemed more interested in the family money than they were in their own daughter. “We’ll pick up your assignments from school on the way to Boise, and you’ll fly from there to L.A. Connie will meet you at the airport. She told me Jenny is beside herself. She can’t wait for you to get there.” Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, Maggie opened the closet and, standing on her tiptoes, dragged down an athletic bag that was precariously balanced on the top shelf. “I guess we’d better both get packed.”

      Becca threw back the covers and, using one crutch, hobbled to her dresser. “This is so great,” she said, her eyes bright, any groggy little hint of sleep long vanished from her eyes. “I mean, I’m worried about Marquise and all, but nothing’s really wrong with her. She’s just missing. Like before. She’ll turn up, don’t ya think?”

      “Sure.” No reason to dampen Becca’s suddenly bright spirits, though Maggie wasn’t certain of anything. True, Mary Theresa was flighty and had, over an argument with her agent, a fight with a lover, or a battle with the production company of the few movies she’d acted in, been known to walk off the set, take off for a few days, only to return refreshed and ready to do battle. Since working in Denver, Mary Theresa hadn’t been much happier, though Maggie hadn’t heard of her temper tantrums and never before had Maggie received an anguished, silent call from her sister. More to the point, never before had Thane Walker shown up on her doorstep.

      This time was different.

      “If you need any help in the shower, just let me know,” Maggie said. “Breakfast’ll be on the table in fifteen.”

      ”’Kay,” Becca mumbled, but Maggie doubted if the information registered in her daughter’s brain as she was into sorting through T-shirts, shorts, and jeans—warm weather wear for Southern California.

      Maggie paused at the door. “Pack enough for a week.”

      Becca’s head snapped around in her mother’s direction. “A week?” She couldn’t hide the delight in her eyes. “Really?”

      “I don’t know. But you know my motto—better safe than—”

      ”‘Sorry,’ yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before.” Rolling her eyes expressively, Becca once again dug through her underwear drawer.

      Maggie had already showered, dressed, and packed. Her suitcase, laptop computer, briefcase and oversize purse were piled near the front door. She’d listened to the weather service and, upon hearing that the area was in for an early snowstorm, thrown her ski jacket, gloves, and hat onto the growing pile.

      The coffee had perked, and she popped two waffles into the toaster. Nothing fancy this morning. Just the basics. She heard the creak of the water pipes as Becca turned on the faucet and a few seconds later Becca’s off-key singing floated down the hallway over the rush of water as she showered.

      How long had it been since Becca had sung spontaneously? How long had it been since she’d been truly lighthearted and happy? It seemed like ages. Stop it, Maggie warned herself. No good comes of second-guessing yourself.

      The waffles popped up, and Barkley, ever vigilant under the table, lifted his head and cocked an ear. He let out a low, warning “woof” about the same time as Maggie heard the sound of a truck’s engine rumble up the drive.

      Thane.

      Her heart knocked in a stupid cadence as she spied his old Ford nose through the trees. Get a grip, McCrae, she told herself as she watched him stretch out of the cab, his legs seeming even longer than she remembered. He was wearing reflective aviator sunglasses and a stern expression that Maggie was certain would sour milk. He’s just a man. Nothing more. So what if he lied and betrayed you? So what if he got involved with your prettier sister, so what if he married her and now is wanted for questioning in her disappearance?

      She swallowed hard.

      This was all so damned bizarre. And scary.

      Barkley began making a racket in earnest.

      “Shh! Barkley, hush!”

      Careful not to burn herself, she plucked the waffles from the toaster and dropped them onto a plate about the time she heard the pipes groan again as Becca turned off the water.

      Thane rapped loudly on the front door.

      “It’s open,” she called over Barkley’s disgruntled growls.

      “Hey, don’t you remember me?” Thane stepped into the cabin, and the stupid dog’s rear end went into immediate motion. His apprehensive growls turned into an embarrassed snort. “I thought so.” Thane paused to rub Barkley behind his good ear.

      “Looks like you won someone СКАЧАТЬ