I shook my head. “I really don’t know.” I pointed at the screen. “See this?”
His hands tightened their grasp on my shoulders as his face came up beside mine. When I turned toward him, I saw the muscle in his jaw flex.
“It’s an airstrip,” I explained when he didn’t speak.
“Are you looking to do some flying?” he asked, from behind clenched teeth.
“No. See, Dina Rosemont called me about a phone call she received from someone who saw her flyer. She said that the caller told her a story about seeing a woman matching Mindy’s description being carried onto a plane.”
Dylan spun my chair around until our noses touched. “She needs to tell that to DPD, not you. You have too much going on. I’m worried about you.”
I kissed him. “I’m worried about you too. Did you ask about getting time at Christmas? And don’t worry, she did call DPD. Have you heard about it?”
“No, I’m not directly involved with her case.” He shrugged. “You don’t want me to be.”
“You’re right. You’re homicide. I’d rather her case not make it to you.”
“So was that where you were today, following that lead?”
I nodded, though I had been there for my story too. Our agreement was to discuss only Mindy-related work information. Turning back to the screen, I answered, “Yes, I couldn’t find it.”
“Well, I guess that’s why it’s private. Did some lady really say she thought she saw Mindy getting on a plane?”
I shook my head. “She said her children saw a woman, not getting on a plane—being carried onto it. It’s the first news that gives me hope. I mean it scares me, but at least maybe there’s a chance that she’s still alive. Now I want to learn who owns this property.” I shrugged. “I know who owns it. I want to know who’s living there. I guess I didn’t realize the airstrip was on it.”
“What do you mean you know who owns it?”
I put my finger on his lips. “We’re getting into non-Mindy stuff.”
“Stella, please stop. You’re too smart for your own good.”
I brushed his lips to mine. “I love your support, but if I’m so smart, why is none of this making sense? Foster offered to take the story and put a fresh set of eyes on it.” I sighed.
“Do that!”
“You know I can’t. I mean, yes, I was at this property for Mindy, but I’m so close to something—something big—that I can feel it.”
“Quit WCJB. We could use you at DPD. You’re really that good.”
“Oh, I don’t know if we should work together. I get the feeling our styles match better in private.”
Dylan took my hand. “No more computer, pictures, or Google Earth searches. Let’s work on that private compatibility.”
CHAPTER 29
Stella
“Stella,” Dr. Howell said, “I need you to meet me at the medical center—right away.”
I blinked awake at the sound of her anxious voice. “What is it?” I focused on the clock near my bed; it wasn’t even three in the morning.
“I’d rather show you. Can you be here, in the ICU, in half an hour?”
This time of morning there wouldn’t be much traffic, but that was still cutting it close. “I can be there in less than an hour. I’ll hurry.”
“OK, and please don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
I looked to my right, saw Dylan with a pillow pulled over his head, and replied, “If it’s that important, I won’t.”
“Believe me, it is.”
“OK. I’ll see you as soon as I can. Bye.”
The line went dead. Dylan rolled, his eyes blinking in the red glow from the bedside clock. “Jesus, Stella, do you ever get to sleep through the night?”
I leaned down and kissed his lips. “Go back to sleep. You can lock up before you leave. I need to run.”
He huffed, rolled back under his pillow, and muttered, “Shit, I’d argue, but I’ve got a lot happening today. Besides, you wouldn’t listen anyway.”
I hurried to the bathroom and made myself presentable, as presentable as one wants to be this early in the morning. Less than ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and ready to go, I made my way back to Dylan. “I’m sorry this woke you. I’ll leave a key for you on the table by the door so you can lock up.” I bent down to kiss his cheek. His inviting scent combined with his radiating warmth pulled me closer. The outside temperature had dipped the last few nights, making Dylan and my bed a much more compelling option than Tracy and an ICU. Just as I was about to kiss him good-bye, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer.
With a raspy morning voice, he asked, “A key? You’re giving me a key?”
I shrugged in his embrace. “You have to be able to lock up.”
Burying his stubbly face in the nape of my neck, he mumbled, “I’ll give it back tonight.”
It took every ounce of my willpower not to climb back into my bed. “Or you could hold on to it, and then if Fred ever needs something, and I can’t be here, you could swing by.”