Part 10 (1/2)
”No problem. We don't really need the strap.” Jack leaned down to scoop the suitcase up from the sand. With its waterlogged contents it was very heavy, but that would give him a chance to show off the muscles she'd been admiring.
He'd taken several steps toward the shade of the overhanging lava rock before he realized she wasn't following him. He turned and discovered her still standing there looking at the broken strap. Then her shoulders quivered.
Good Lord, she was crying. He plopped the suitcase back down on the sand and sprinted back to her. ”Gen? What is it?”
”Something stupid.” She wouldn't look at him.
”Try me.”
”That ugly pink suitcase!” she wailed. ”I thought I hated it because it was so old and out of style, and . . . and now it's broken.”
He thought about his Corolla, which was also old and outdated. Sometimes he cursed it and considered getting a new car, but he hadn't done that, and if it ever got wrecked. . . . He slid an arm around her shoulders. ”We'll fix the suitcase.”
She looked up at him, the gla.s.ses magnifying her teary eyes. ”But the metal part pulled right out of the side! I don't think you can fix something like that, Jack.”
”I do.” He had no idea how, but he'd find a way, once they got back to Honolulu.
”You do?” She sniffed and wiped her hand across her nose.
Suddenly he had no problem picturing her as a little hillbilly, a sc.r.a.ppy kid who nevertheless had a sentimental streak a mile wide. ”Sure. Maybe an insert inside to reinforce that part. There has to be a leather shop in Honolulu that could do it.”
Although her cheeks were still wet with tears, she began to grin. ”Do you realize how dumb that is, to fix this suitcase?”
”Not if it means something to you, and it obviously does.”
She sniffed again. ”I didn't think so yesterday. Yesterday I was ashamed to take it on this trip, but look what it did for me. It survived the plane crash and came floating in with all my stuff. When I saw it out there in the water, I felt so happy that I hadn't lost it.”
”You were ashamed of it? Why?”
”Because it came from the Goodwill, and I thought Nick would see that it was at least fifty years old.
I didn't know that it had become a part of my family until I saw it bobbing out there in the waves like a big pink marshmallow.”
He stroked her soft arm. ”Then if it's a member of the family, it deserves to be fixed. So keep the strap, and that can be the first thing we do when we get back.”
”Yeah.” She gazed up at him. ”You're very sweet, Jack. Did you know that?”
He didn't know how to respond, but he was afraid sweet wasn't a good thing to be if he wanted to make it with Gen. He was better off when she commented on his muscles.
”It's a crime a sweet guy like you doesn't have a girlfriend,” she added.
Yep, sweet was a bad thing. It was what she called guys who were nice but boring. He gave her a quick squeeze and released her. ”I'll go get your suitcase now.” In the process he'd flex his muscles. Then he'd let her rub sunscreen on those same muscles. And even when he had access to a razor again, he'd let his beard grow so he'd look more like a pirate. He might even get contacts, although he hated the idea of putting objects in his eyes.
But tough times called for tough measures. No more Mr. Sweet.
Chapter 8.
While Matt Murphy talked to the folks at the Maui airport, Annabelle watched him like a chicken hawk circling the henhouse. His expression gave him away, but then she'd known the plane wasn't there. She'd prayed that she was wrong, but she knew.
Matt hung up the phone. He looked a good ten years older than he had when she'd walked into his office. ”I'm sure he's taken it upon himself to land at a different airport,” he said. ”Maybe he had engine trouble and put down at Molokai.”
”Call there, then.” But Annabelle didn't think Nick had put down at Molokai. She wished to h.e.l.l that he had, but they had telephones on Molokai. Genevieve would have called her the minute she had a chance.
Muttering under his breath, Matt picked up the phone again. ”Kendra, I want you to contact the airport at Molokai and find out if the Rainbow Systems plane landed there this morning.” He paused. ”And if it didn't, then check with Kauai and the Big Island. Let me know what you find out.” He dropped the phone back in its cradle and stared at it without moving.
”They won't be at any of those airports.” Annabelle's heart beat so fast she wondered if she should sit down and put her head between her knees. She couldn't afford to faint. Time could mean the difference between life and death.
He glanced up, his jaw tight. ”What are you, psychic?” ”Yes.” She didn't usually admit that to strangers, but her daughter's safety depended on Matt Murphy taking her instincts into consideration. ”Not as psychic as some of my kin, but sometimes I see things. I saw danger in this trip, but I thought it was my fear of planes talking. It wasn't. Something is terribly wrong and we need to alert whoever can call out the search parties.”
Mart's jaw muscles worked. ”Until I check with every airport within flying distance of Honolulu, we're not calling anyone. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this. Nick's a good pilot, and the Sky King's well maintained. The weather's good, and he didn't have far to go. Whatever your Ouija board told you, I'm sure Nick, your daughter, and my top programmer are all just fine.”
”If Genevieve's fine, she would have called me!” ”She's young! She could have forgotten!” ”No.” She stared him down. ”Not my Genevieve.” He met her gaze for several long seconds. Finally he sighed and leaned against his desk. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler. ”Maybe she did call. You're here instead of wherever she'd be trying to reach you. Can you check for messages?”
Annabelle flushed. He had a point, although she doubted here were any messages for her at work or at home. Still, she leeded to pull herself together enough to find out. ”Is there mother line I can use?”
”Sure.” He punched a b.u.t.ton on his phone and turned he instrument to face her before picking up the receiver nd holding it out to her.
As she took it from him she reminded herself that Matt rasn't her enemy. In fact, he might turn out to be her most important ally. First she checked the beauty shop. She must have gotten her hopes up, because when Elena told her Genevieve hadn't called, her stomach heaved as if she'd eaten something bad.
Genevieve would have called the shop first, so there was no point in checking at home, but Annabelle did, anyway. Lincoln was at the Parks and Rec basketball camp every afternoon this week, so he'd turned on the answering machine before he left, like she'd told him to. There were no messages.
She was trembling again by the time she put the phone back in its cradle.
”Nothing?” Matt asked.
”Nothing.”
The buzzing of his phone made her jump.
He grabbed the receiver. ”Kendra? What did you-oh.” He paused and cleared his throat. ”Okay, let me think.''
Annabelle clenched her hands together and waited for what else he planned to say. It had better be the right thing or she was taking over.
”Listen, Kendra, I'm not sure what protocol is here, but start with the Coast Guard.” His voice shook. ”Yeah, it looks like the plane's missing.” He replaced the receiver and squared his shoulders before facing Annabelle again. ”We'll find them,” he said, looking resolute and determined.
She was encouraged by his air of confidence. Apparently he wasn't the type to fall apart during times of trouble, and she could use someone like that right now. ”I know we'll find them,” she said.
”We will. And now the best thing for you to do is go home and-”
”Not on your life, Matt Murphy.”
He blinked. ”Um, you want to stay here? That's fine, of course, but I was just thinking that under the circ.u.mstances-”
”You don't have children, do you?” ”What's that have to do with anything?” ”If you had children, you would never suggest that I go home and sit on my hands while everybody goes out looking for my daughter.” Power rose within her. She'd felt this kind of power once before, and it had allowed her to conquer her fear of airplanes and take Genevieve out of the poverty-stricken life of the Hollow.
Matt looked sympathetic. ”I can understand that you want to do something, but this process is best left to the experts. They may need to talk to you and get a description of Genevieve and . . . what she was wearing this morning.”