Alan had dated her on a bet.
That shouldn’t have hurt. Of course he’d dated her on a bet, because why in the world would a man as wealthy, as cool and sophisticated and elegant, as he’d been, be interested in her for any reason other than her father’s money?
But in the end, the laugh had been on Alan, hadn’t it? Because her father’s “wealth” had all been an illusion, and Alan had fallen for that illusion-hook, line, and sinker.
But the deal had been made. He’d married her and forgiven her father’s debt. He’d even given her brother a job when Kenny hadn’t been able to find a direction for himself.
She’d been sheltered from the details, and as a model at the time, traveling a lot, she’d also been fairly clueless. But Alan had always been kind and sweet to her, and after a lifetime of living with her volatile, quick-tempered father, that kindness and sweetness had gone a long way with her.
Very long.
She’d given up modeling to stay in the States to be near her husband, unhappily surprised to realize that he traveled incessantly as well. So she’d gone back to school to pass the time and had found her passion-teaching.
Yes, Alan had been slightly distant during the two years they’d been married, and gone much of that, and yes, he’d held a lot of himself back, including almost all of his business dealings, but she’d told herself that a husband and wife didn’t share everything.
Her parents certainly hadn’t.
Besides, she had her life, teaching second grade, and that was enough for her. She’d been happy.
Or so she’d thought.
But then Alan had left for a hunting trip, first giving her a rare hug, looking her deeply in the eyes. “Whatever you need after I’m gone,” he’d said. “I’ve kept it all safe, Precious.”
She never saw him again.
After his death, she’d sat in his attorney’s office, shocked to the core to find her father hadn’t been the only illusionist.
Nope, when Alan’s will had been read, it had turned out he was flat broke, and worse, owed his investors big-time.
Which had been especially bad news for Bailey, because now she was about to be flat dead if she didn’t come up with some serious dough for them.
They’d come to her, late two nights ago, and had demanded the money, prepared to kill her if she couldn’t provide it. So she’d lied, said she could get it but she needed time.
They’d bought that.
Now if she didn’t come up with the money, they were going to take it out of her skin, and with the scare they’d given her, when they’d broken into what she’d thought was the impenetrable fortress of their Burbank Hills house, she believed every word.
Especially since they hadn’t been nameless strangers, but some of Alan’s longtime friends, his “investors,” led by the smooth, elegant Stephen Stonehelm.
At first she couldn’t believe that Stephen, whom she’d entertained and socialized with on numerous occasions, was going to seriously turn on her.
But he had, with ice-cold eyes and a colder voice, making it clear that if she told anyone, especially the police, then she, along with Kenny and her students, would start appearing as dead as Alan.
It was simple, really-pay them back or die.
Slowly, painfully.
And yet she couldn’t pay back what she didn’t have. She’d called Kenny, terrified for his safety. Since Alan’s death, he’d been moving around, working carpentry here and there, not sticking in any one spot.
Bailey had said nothing about how much she missed him because he seemed content with his new direction or lack thereof. But now she was worried that wherever he was, he wasn’t far enough away.
“Get out of town,” he’d said urgently when she’d told him what had happened. “Get out of town and stay out until this thing blows over. I’ll come back and-”
“No. That’s what I wanted to tell you.” Terror had filled her at the thought of him being anywhere near Alan’s thugs. “You’ve got to stay away. Please, Kenny. I can’t lose you, too.”
“Bailey-”
“I’ll go,” she’d promised him rashly, knowing that was the only way to guarantee he stay gone. “I’ll go if you promise to stay far away.”
“Check in with me,” he’d demanded. “Text me if you can’t call, let me know where you are.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Promise. Promise me, Bail.”
She’d made that promise, and they’d been in touch by text messages at least every other day.
Small comfort.
She’d called into work for a substitute teacher, saying she had a horrible flu and needed at least a week off. No way was she going to endanger the children she’d come to love and care about as her own.
That had turned out to be a good decision, because now she had the feeling that she was being followed-everywhere she went she experienced an itch between her shoulder blades.
They were watching her, waiting for her to find the money.
She needed to get on that.
She’d thought long and hard. If Alan had stashed money-and he’d been just tight enough to do something like that-then where? Their house was too obvious; plus it was now up for sale, and every inch of it had been gone over, cleaned, redone. It had to be at one of his resorts. All had been sold except the ones in Mammoth, Catalina, and Cabo.
Kenny agreed that it was entirely likely that the money was in one of those last places. She’d started with Mammoth simply because when she’d gotten to Sky High Air, that was where Noah had been going.
She’d put out word that she was going to Aspen to throw the thugs off her tail and had hitched a ride with him.
So to speak.
Noah kept his gaze straight ahead, dividing his concentration between the horizon and his controls, flicking switches, doing whatever it was he was doing to keep them in the air.
“The sooner we’re there,” she told him, “the sooner you’re free of me.”
“How did you know my name?”
“I-I don’t.”
“Liar,” he said very softly. “You called me by name a few minutes ago.” Apparently no longer afraid of her, or caring that she had her “weapon” pressed against him, he turned his head and looked right at her.
And she let him.
Maybe it was exhaustion, or the fact that her head hurt from all that was racing through it. Or maybe she simply couldn’t make room for one more fear-that being that he would let them crash.
He wouldn’t. He loved living too much.
She was banking on that.
His gaze traveled from the hood low over her face, to her jeans, to her boots and back, before he looked at the horizon again, jaw tight.
She knew why. He’d looked, but he still couldn’t ID her. That was what happened when she wasn’t all vamped up; she was a nobody. If she lived through this mess, she was going to love being a nobody. She’d spend the rest of her days happily being a nobody.
“You might as well have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the spot at his right. “Now that I can identify you to the authorities.”
“Now who’s the liar?”
He swore, and kept flying. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“I have to.”
He glanced over at her, utterly bewildered and baffled. “Why? Why do you have to do this?”
“It’s complicated.” The understatement of the century.
“You’re late for a manicure?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said grimly.
“Try me.”
She stared at him, wishing she could. Wishing a lot of things…
“I know. You’ve got a hot date on the slopes.”
“No, that’s you.” She knew he planned to ski his brains out, then hopefully screw his brains out. That the thought had given her an odd ping didn’t matter. What he did after he got her to Mammoth didn’t concern her.