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From the way his uncle had come rushing after him, she’d assumed he was much younger. ‘A little old, wouldn’t you say, to be kept on a leading rein?’ she jeered, not surprised the young man wanted to break free.
The lift arrived, and they stepped inside before Ryan answered. ‘He has his freedom, within reason.’
‘The boundary of reason being the things you do or don’t like,’ she scorned, finding herself reluctantly empathising with the runaway.
‘I’m not about to apologise for keeping him out of the clutches of female barracudas,’ he informed her shortly, and took her arm as they reached the ground and headed out of the building to where the jeep had been parked earlier.
She resented being manhandled, and tried to jerk herself free, but failed once more. Grinding her teeth impotently, she found herself almost having to jog to keep up with him. Even so, she found the breath to protest. ‘I’ve told you before about lumping my sister in with such people!’
‘Sorry,’ he apologised mockingly, ‘but I’ve yet to hear anything to change my opinion. Get in.’ This last came as they reached the disreputable vehicle.
‘Where did you get this—a junk heap?’ she bit out witheringly as she resisted.
‘Never judge by appearances; this piece of junk is a lot more reliable than you, sweetheart. Now are you going to get in or...?’
Mickey only complied because she knew he would have put her in by force if she had refused, and she wanted to retain at least some dignity. Besides, the quickest way of proving he was mistaken, she hoped, was to get to Grandmother Sophie’s as swiftly as possible. So she settled into her seat without another word, and gave him directions for leaving the town.
Once on Highway 16, her attention was only partially on the journey; the main part of her brain became centered on Leah. When she had first come in search of her father, she had been surprised but delighted to discover she had a half-sister. She had known Leah for eight years now, and loved her dearly, although she hadn’t seen her every day, because she lived with her paternal grandmother. Their father’s death eighteen months ago had been a shock to both of them. He had seemed so fit, but he must have known he had cancer for a long time. It had been then that her sister had decided she wanted to study medicine.
Although they had jointly inherited the house she now lived in, Mickey alone had inherited her father’s business, and that had helped her cope with her sense of loss. It hadn’t seemed a burden, more an acknowledgement of her own capabilities. Although their years together had been short, Mickey had discovered a closeness of spirit with her father which had been totally lacking with her mother. He had never asked her why she had abandoned the only life she had known, but she had told him anyway. He hadn’t judged or advised, but had simply accepted her, and given her an unquestioning love which had gone a long way to healing her wounds. She had developed her own love of flying from being taught by her father. He had been delighted when she had gone on to show her interest in his business, and they had worked together happily, Mickey discovering a capacity for hard work into which she had channelled all her energies.
Leah had a gentler nature, although it was allied to a surprising strength of will, and a deep understanding of the frailties of her fellow humans, both of which she would need if she realised her wish to study medicine and become a doctor. It wasn’t a whim, but a vocation, and that was why Mickey knew it just couldn’t be Leah who had run away with Ryan’s nephew. She was so dedicated, so sure of what she wanted. It would never occur to her to throw it all away on some...playboy millionaire!
‘You’re wrong, you know.’ The statement was an extension of her thoughts, and broke the lengthy silence which had fallen.
He spared her a brief glance, and seemed to know immediately what she was referring to. ‘It’s for sure one of us is doomed to be disappointed,’ he concurred obliquely, and Mickey found herself studying his handsome profile with resentment.
Rather late in the day, a vital point struck her. ‘You never intended to take any photographs, did you?’
She caught the slight flexing of his cheeks which indicated he was smiling. ‘Not this trip, although I do have plans for the future.’
His smugness was so galling! ‘Wouldn’t you call that breach of contract? I could sue you, too,’ she declared, thinking of all the preparations which had had to be made. The company’s outlay had been quite considerable at a time when it could be ill afforded.
‘I take it from your remark that you didn’t read the small print? That was careless, Hanlon,’ he tutted reprovingly, stirring the hardly settled ashes of her anger.
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I contracted to use an aircraft and pilot of Hanlon Air “for an unspecified time”. Which, roughly translated, means if I don’t use you, I don’t have to pay you.’
To his credit, he didn’t sound as if he was gloating, but she felt as furious as if he had been anyway. For she had indeed read that clause, and had taken it to mean the trip was open-ended. In fact she had been working on the probability that he would need her for at least a week, and perhaps even two. Now she knew better, and her hatred of him grew in leaps and bounds. Because he had to have known how she would take it, how anyone would take it.
Although it wasn’t the end of the world, the sense of being manipulated made her feel as if it was. ‘Very clever,’ she said bitterly. ‘I hope you can sleep nights.’
This time he sent her a longer look, laden with scepticism. ‘Trying to tell me you wouldn’t have used my name as an advertisement for more trade?’ he queried softly, and she flushed, squirming a little in her seat, even though it was common practice.
‘At least it would have been honest. You can’t say the same.’
‘War is a dirty business, Hanlon. Take it from one who knows,’ he returned shortly, and clearly brought down a wall between them, concentrating on his driving.
Mickey had nothing to say either, spending the remainder of the journey looking forward to seeing his face when he was proved wrong. It was likely to be the only satisfaction she had out of the whole fiasco. Ryan kept to the maximum speed limit, and consequently it took less time to reach Leah’s grandmother’s house than usual. The lights were on when he finally drew the jeep to a halt outside the faded elegance of the three-storey building, and Mickey wasted no time, jumping down before the vehicle had properly stopped moving and hurrying up the path to knock on the door.
Sophie Trenchard opened the door herself, her statuesque frame swathed in a colourful lounging robe. Her look of irritation changed to a broad smile when she saw who her visitor was.
‘Mickey!’ she greeted warmly. ‘What a lovely surprise. I was in the middle of a book, and just about to throw a tantrum for being interrupted mid-flow!’ she added, with a wicked grin, because her penchant for behaving less maturely than befitted her years was legendary. The grin turned to a look of intrigue when a tense and grim-faced Ryan came to stand in the light issuing from the door.
Mickey returned the hug she had been swept into, feeling quite relieved to have an erstwhile ally within call. Smiling up at the older woman, she realised with a faint qualm that Sophie had apparently taken to wearing pince-nez. ‘Hello, Sophie. I’ve come to see Leah.’
The cheerful smile reappeared on the grey-haired lady’s face and didn’t flicker. ‘Isn’t that nice? Come in, come in.’
Mickey felt her heart surge anew, and threw Ryan an ‘I told you so’ look over her shoulder before stepping inside.
‘Is this your new man, Mickey?’ the old lady asked forthrightly, eyeing the breadth and height of her adopted granddaughter’s companion with unabashed interest, while Mickey stiffened in instant rejection.
‘No!’ The denial shot out hurriedly as she caught a wicked glint of amusement in Ryan’s eyes. ‘No. This is Ryan Douglas. He’s come to see Leah, too.’ Reluctantly she made the necessary introductions.
‘Mrs Trenchard,’ Ryan greeted politely as he shook hands.
‘Dear boy, call me Sophie. Mickey will tell you I’m never one to stand on ceremony. I was the despair of my family!’ Sophie Trenchard invited, leading the way into a cluttered lounge.
‘Will Leah be long?’ Mickey asked firmly, knowing how dangerous it was to let Sophie take the conversation in an altogether different direction. She assumed her sister was out, because if Leah had been in she would have come to greet them before this. It brought a return of that small niggle of doubt to her mind.
Sophie waved an airy hand. ‘She said they would come back soon. Sit, Mickey. Can I get you some coffee, Ryan? Or some brandy, perhaps? Thaddeus left some here when he went away...or was it Matthew? They were twins, you see, and I never can remember which is which,’ she explained, making Mickey stare at her long and hard, because Sophie wasn’t at all dippy; she just pretended she was when there was an advantage to be gained. Just what the advantage was this time, she didn’t yet see.
Across the room, Ryan shook his head. ‘No, thank you,’ he refused with a polite smile, although his eyes narrowed.
Mickey groaned inwardly, well aware of the impression he was getting, whereas the men in question were brothers who had lodged with Sophie one summer when their family home was full to bursting. She was on the verge of pointing this out when Ryan carried on speaking.
‘You say Leah isn’t here?’ The question was mild enough, but Mickey was aware of the steel behind the words.
Sophie dislodged a cat from an armchair and sat down, nodding wisely. ‘Leah and her young man have gone away for a while, but they’ll be back when they’re ready,’ she revealed, seemingly unaware of just what a bombshell she had dropped.
For a moment Mickey was totally speechless, but not so Ryan. ‘Does her young man have a name?’
‘Of course. Peter Douglas. Ah...’ Suddenly she made the connection, although she wasn’t in the least put out. ‘Your son?’
‘My nephew,’ Ryan corrected grittily, and Mickey was very much aware that he was holding a monumental anger in check solely because of the older woman. She knew he was thinking there weren’t just two women involved, but three!
‘A nice boy. I like him. He has a good heart. He’ll do well for our Leah,’ Sophie declared with satisfaction. ‘You don’t find young men of his standing turning up in our neck of the woods every day of the week.’
Ryan’s face became stony. ‘No, indeed you don’t. Only a fool would let a wealthy young man get away,’ he declared grimly, and not very subtly.
It appeared to go right over her head, for Sophie merely blinked at him over her glasses. ‘Fortunately Leah has no need for money, unlike Mickey. I don’t suppose you know of a wealthy man for her to marry?’ she asked, much to Mickey’s horror.
‘Sophie!’ she protested, knowing it was the older woman’s idea of a joke, but knowing too that Ryan was not the man to appreciate it any more than she did. However, just the mere fact of her having said it meant Sophie was covering something up. ‘I don’t need a husband!’
‘But you do need the money, dear.’
Mickey took one look at Ryan’s grim expression and could have screamed. ‘We weren’t talking about me, Sophie. How could you let Leah go off? What about her studies?’
The older woman tutted. ‘There will be time for them, Mickey. Where’s your heart, child? Leah loves this young man, and right now she wants to acknowledge her commitment to him. You’re her sister; surely you must understand that.’
But I don’t, she wanted to shout. How could Leah do this? How could she throw away everything? How could Sophie allow it? Mickey had learnt a great deal about Leah’s grandmother’s rather eccentric views, and had come to accept it as normal—for her. Yet she had never expected her sister would act so recklessly.
However, there was nothing she could say, because clearly the other woman saw nothing to worry about. She sighed. Sophie, for all her worldliness, seemed sublimely unconcerned by all the pitfalls lying in wait for the unwary. Because she liked him, it would never occur to her that this man she saw as estimable might be far from that ideal. Which explained why she was acting the way she was. She had probably even expected such a visitation, and had promised to help! Sophie positively thrived on romantic intrigue.
Mickey knew from past experience that there was little point in trying to pierce Sophie’s dippy persona with a frontal attack. Once in place, she could keep it up indefinitely, especially when the person for whose benefit it was being put on was in the room. There was to be no help in that direction, unless she could get Sophie alone, and that meant ditching Ryan Douglas. Right now, she didn’t know how that was to be done.
‘Did they say where they were going?’ she asked tonelessly, trying to salvage something.
‘The islands,’ Sophie vouchsafed with a smile, unconcerned by just how vague a direction that was.
For the first time ever, Mickey felt her palms itch, and she eyed the other woman in exasperation. ‘Which islands? The Queen Charlottes?’
Sophie shrugged, eyes limpid and innocent. ‘They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask,’ she replied, and Mickey had to stifle a gasp hastily when for a moment their eyes clashed and Sophie’s were as clear as crystal and openly challenging.
‘How long have they been gone?’ Ryan asked with studied politeness, and, although Mickey could feel the tension in him, she had to marvel at his self-control.
The older woman removed her pince-nez and polished them vigorously. ‘Two...three weeks.’
‘And they haven’t contacted you in all that time?’ Ryan challenged disbelievingly.
‘It didn’t seem so long. When you get old, you don’t count the time.’
If Mickey hadn’t already known it, that alone would have told her that Sophie knew a great deal more than she was saying. She might disdain telephones, but she was a keen radio ham. Leah spoke to her grandmother every day without fail, and Sophie was probably waiting for a call right now! Unfortunately, if she was determined to stay close-mouthed, even a can opener wouldn’t prise her open.
Ryan took the statement stoically, rising to his feet agilely. A poker-faced Mickey followed suit. ‘My grandmother used to say much the same thing, but that was because she didn’t want to be held to account for her sins.’
Sophie was not a whit put out, and fairly bounced to her feet. ‘Young man, I’m too old to worry about sin!’
He eyed her steadily for a long time, then said softly, ‘Perhaps so, but I’ll assume you have a conscience. So if by some...miracle...your granddaughter does get in touch, have her tell Peter he’s needed at home. Now I’m sure you’ll forgive us for having to rush off,’ he added with heavy irony.
‘You’ll come again when Leah and Peter return?’
‘Oh, I think you can safely bet money on that, Sophie,’ Ryan drawled with grim amusement, shaking her hand and heading for the door.
Mickey was once more enfolded in a warm embrace.
‘That’s one angry man, Mickey.’
‘Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so angry if you’d told him everything,’ Mickey challenged, looking the older woman straight in the eye.
Sophie laughed. ‘Dear child, what can you mean?’
Exasperated, Mickey sighed. ‘You’re sending me on a wild-goose chase, and I don’t appreciate it.’
‘Then you should. There’s colour in your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye, Mickey. Ask yourself who put them there. Now run along. He’s not the sort I’d want to keep waiting, although you seem to be blooming on it!’ Sophie declared softly, and Mickey sent her a startled look.
‘You haven’t heard the last of it. I’ll be back, on my own, and I’ll expect answers!’ she declared, before going to join the man standing impatiently on the porch.
Ryan didn’t utter a word until they were once more in the jeep and on their way back to the city. ‘She’s quite a character.’
She wondered if he realised just how much of a character Sophie was, and found out in the next second.
‘Getting the facts out of her is like trying to wade through treacle! Those two don’t need an army when they’ve got Sophie Trenchard on their side!’
His perception brought a reluctant smile to her lips. ‘One of a kind,’ she acknowledged wryly, and he laughed, so that it seemed for a moment they were in accord. Mickey found it strangely unsettling.
‘One is quite sufficient. Hell, they could be anywhere, and the only one who knows is pretending she lives in Cloud-cuckoo-land!’ he growled, thumping his fist on the steering-wheel. ‘Not that you seem to be surprised, Hanlon. Were you banking on her running interference for you? Are you still going to insist you knew nothing about it?’
That brief moment of empathy vanished. ‘If I had, we wouldn’t be sitting here now! I don’t know how your sainted nephew managed to seduce my sister, but I’m going to put a stop to it. Damn him; Leah had everything going for her until he came along!’ Mickey cried wrathfully.
Beside her, Ryan laughed grimly. ‘Well, they say it’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow somebody something good. Look on the bright side, Hanlon. I’m going after them, and you’re going to take me. So it looks as if you’re going to get paid after all.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘MORNING, Sid,’ Mickey mumbled as she walked into the hangar next morning, smothering a yawn behind her hand.
The grizzled mechanic sent her a grin. ‘Hiya, Mickey. Up early, ain’t ye?’
A lack of sleep had done nothing to sweeten her mood, nor the dreadful meal she had had with Ryan Douglas after they had returned to his hotel last night. Not that the meal had been bad, just the company. It was as well she had scarcely eaten anything or she would have suffered from indigestion as well as a sleepless night.
‘Mr “God Almighty” Douglas insists on catching the light!’ she grunted irritably, keeping up a fiction which Ryan had insisted on. To all intents and purposes, they would be out taking photographs. For once she had not argued. She didn’t want anyone to know what they would really be doing either. Publicity of the kind this search would produce, if the story ever got out, was the very last thing either of them needed.
Shaggy eyebrows rose at hearing the unaccustomed grumble. ‘Sounds a reasonable request to me, Mickey,’ Sid remonstrated, with the ease of long acquaintance, and she sighed heavily.
‘It is, but he isn’t,’ she snapped, unwilling to concede more than she had to. Over a dinner which she had barely touched, Ryan had reiterated his intentions in no uncertain terms, and, considering they had the same aim, although admittedly differing viewpoints, there hadn’t been anything she could reasonably take exception to. Except his persistence in still seeing Leah as a girl with her eye on the main chance, a charge she had countered by declaring his odious nephew had taken advantage of Leah’s sweet nature.
Her fleeting sympathy towards Peter Douglas had vanished with the knowledge that he had induced her sister to run off with him, abandoning a bright future. She couldn’t believe that Leah really loved him. What did she know about love? She had lived a rather sheltered existence. As far as Mickey knew, she hadn’t even had a real boyfriend. No, she had been seduced into thinking she was in love by a handsome face and a blinding charm! She couldn’t know that love to such men was just an illusion, just a word glossing over needs of a far earthier nature.
What Mickey was so dreadfully afraid of was that Leah would find out too late. She didn’t want her to be hurt and disillusioned the way she herself had been. God, she would do anything to protect Leah from that. She’d get her away from the clutches of that playboy if it was the last thing she did!
Which perversely gave her something in common with Ryan after all. Neither wanted this match, and they were determined to put a stop to it. But first of all they had to find the elusive runaways.
Sid, meanwhile, waved a piece of oily rag in her direction. ‘Ain’t you never heard you catch more flies with molasses, Mickey?’ he observed, and she came out of her reverie with a start.
‘If you think I’m going to stroke his male ego just to keep him sweet, you’re on the wrong track. I’m sorry, Sid, but I just can’t stand the man.’
‘Ain’t that the truth,’ he drawled, and cocked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘You gonna take her for a test run?’
Mickey looked from the float plane to her watch. Time was getting on, and already the sun was rising higher. ‘There won’t be time; I’ll have to check her as we go. Give Amelia her maximum fuel load, please, Sid. I’ll do my checks as soon as I’ve found my charts.’
Sid tipped a finger in acknowledgement, and Mickey hurried into the office, but not before his half-muttered comment reached her ears. ‘Artistic temperament they call it, girl. You gotta learn how to handle it.’
Mickey grimaced as she closed the door and leant back against it. She knew all about artistic temperament, and had spent the greater portion of her life pacifying it.
As a tiny child, Mickey’s earliest memories of her mother were of being kissed goodnight by a glittering princess, or of playing with her dolls on the bathroom floor while this beautiful angel bathed in water that emitted intoxicating scents. Of course, she hadn’t realised then that her mother was Tanita Amory, the Hollywood actress. She had been some god-like creature who had welcomed a little girl into her glowing world.
She had no memories of her real father, knowing only that he had been Michael Hanlon, a Canadian pilot. She had known little more about the succession of men who became her stepfathers for one or two years as she grew up. What she had learned was that her mother was so wrapped up in these men that she had very little time for her daughter. Tanita had lavished love on her by giving her all the things money could buy, but not by giving of herself.
