again.”
Kelly’s breath caught. “You believe Rachel’s death had something to do with the story?”
He nodded, the muscles of his jaw clenching tight.
They stood in silence for several long moments, eyes locked. Kelly fought the urge to look away, entranced by the depth of emotion evident in Dan’s gaze.
What if he was right? Didn’t Rachel deserve for the truth to be uncovered? No matter what had happened between them, if Kelly had been the one who died, Rachel would have left no stone unturned in her quest for the truth.
Kelly scrutinized the man before her, realizing she’d never seen anyone more sure of what he believed. Unlatching the screen door, she pushed it open. “Maybe I missed something. Why don’t we look together?”
A few moments later, Dan patted the computer monitor in Rachel’s bedroom. “Did you check this?” He squinted, his suntanned skin crinkling into fine lines around his eyes.
Kelly dragged her attention from his appealing features to the computer. “Not yet. I’ve only been through her filing cabinet.”
She sank into the chair as Dan powered on the machine. A welcome screen flashed a box for password entry.
“Any ideas?” Dan leaned close. Kelly stole a glance at the strong angular lines of his profile, mentally chastising herself. So the guy had a good story; the reality was she didn’t know him from Adam.
“Actually, yes.” She typed in a single word. Nellie.
The screen instantly displayed the operating system’s start up page.
“Nellie?” Incredulity tinged Dan’s tone.
“Nellie Bly. First woman reporter,” Kelly explained. “Rachel’s idol.” And one heck of a lucky guess.
Within seconds they both stared at the screen, scanning the list of files on Rachel’s system. Kelly was just losing hope when her gaze landed on two words. Black market.
“Whoa.” Dan spoke at the same instant. “That has to be it.”
DAN WATCHED as Kelly scrolled back, double-clicking the title. He held his breath as the document opened, trying to ignore the creamy expanse of her neck just inches away. She’d swept her long, auburn hair up into some sort of clip, and if he weren’t so intent on finding Rachel’s notes, he might find the sight distracting.
Okay. Truth was, the woman was very distracting, but he’d promised himself a long time ago to avoid matters of the heart. He’d listened to his mother cry behind her closed bedroom door enough to know true love was nothing more than a myth. Besides, all he cared about right now were the words on the screen.
“Frank Jones. Virginian-Pilot,” Kelly read out loud, curiosity palpable in her voice as she skimmed the query letter. “I didn’t find an acceptance letter for this one.” She twisted in the chair, her rich brown gaze jolting Dan’s senses. “Maybe she never got the assignment.”
“Or maybe someone got to her notes but not to her computer files.” Satisfaction filled him. He’d been right all along.
Kelly dialed Information then rang the newspaper’s switchboard. She whispered she’d been put into Frank Jones’s voice mail as she listened.
“All we can do is wait.” Dan shrugged a few moments later as she set the receiver back in its cradle.
The phone rang within seconds, the shrill ring startling them both. Hope uncoiled in Dan’s gut.
Kelly answered the call then frowned. “My sister,” she mouthed.
Disappointment washed through him as he moved away to give her space. No matter. Sooner or later, Jones would return their call, and he’d be one step closer to the truth.
He watched a myriad of expressions play across Kelly’s face as she spoke to her sister.
“Open it,” she said, her features growing tense. She shot him a confused look and his breath caught at the uncertainty in her gaze.
She’d been nothing but cool since the moment she’d first found him in the house, but right now, at this moment, a glimpse of the vulnerable woman within shone through.
“A post office key?” Kelly’s voice grew tight, climbing up at least two octaves. “She didn’t enclose any sort of note?”
He watched as her frown deepened the soft lines that framed her wide-spaced brown eyes. There was an intensity to the woman that intrigued him, a hint of a past pain or secret she kept carefully tucked away.
She hung up the phone and dragged a hand through her hair.
Concern eased through him, and he stepped close. “You all right?”
Kelly visibly started, as if the question had taken her by surprise. She nodded. “Rachel sent me a post office key. My sister’s overnighting it down.”
KELLY COULDN’T HELP but admire the light that sparked to life in Dan’s vibrant, blue stare when she explained her sister’s call. His intensity and determination were characteristics to admire, and to watch.
Her ex-fiancé had taught her all about driven men—ones who stopped at nothing to get their way. Was Dan Steele cut from the same cloth?
He stood close, leaning his full weight against the desktop, eyes wide. “Let’s hope it yields her notes.” He straightened his features, as if consciously working to hide his hope. With a slap of his palm against the wooden desk, he turned toward the door. “We’ll know tomorrow.”
The suddenness of his movements took Kelly by surprise. “Should I call you when the key gets here?”
“FedEx guy hits town by nine-thirty most mornings. I’ll see you then.”
She listened as the door slammed shut behind him, assuring herself she’d made the right decision to believe his story. Packing, however, had lost its appeal.
She connected to the Internet using the remote number from her own account. Now was as good a time as any to study up on Oxygesic. It couldn’t hurt to know exactly what she was getting herself into.
In the middle of downloading the fourth article she’d found, Frank Jones returned her call.
He confirmed Rachel had been working on an Oxygesic story, yet even more intriguing was his question regarding Rachel’s notebook. A crazy looking thing with butterflies all over it. According to Jones, he’d never seen her without it.
Kelly leaned against the chair back after she hung up, rubbing her hands over her face then massaging her temples. Exhaustion seeped into her every muscle.
Rachel had loved to make lists and notes. Always had. So where would she leave a notebook? Kelly searched the house from top to bottom. Between sofa cushions. Under mattresses. Behind chairs. In drawers. In closets. Finally, she retreated to the porch empty-handed, dropping into a rocker.
A gull flew past and landed on the roof of her car. Of course. Kelly raced into the house and dialed Information. She
