Dangerous Melody. Dana Mentink

knew someone was there before her ears detected the soft noise directly behind her. Before she could spin around, she was sandwiched against the machine by a man’s heavy bulk, the breath forced out of her along with a cry. As she rallied to push him off, he jerked the laptop from her shoulder and ran down the darkened corridor.

      She ran after him. He was strong and had the element of surprise, but she was fast and as determined as a lioness.

      In a minute she’d caught up with him, his arms pumping as he headed toward the main terminal where she would lose him for sure. There was only one choice. With a surge of adrenaline, she leaped.

      * * *

      Tate was out of his chair as soon as he heard Stephanie’s cry of surprise. He sprinted to the dim hallway in time to see a figure emerging with Stephanie’s laptop under his arm. A moment later, Stephanie hurtled forward, catching the man by the ankles. They both fell, the man’s hat flying through the air, along with the laptop. Tate ran to grab the man, but the assailant shook Stephanie loose with a vicious kick and leaped to his feet, running out the nearest exit door, grabbing his hat on the way.

      Tate was paralyzed for a moment, wondering whether to pursue the laptop snatcher or help Stephanie. He decided on the latter. She was in a sitting position, blood oozing from the corner of her mouth, hair disheveled and cheeks pink with exertion.

      He knelt next to her and a startled Luca joined them, along with an airport security officer who grilled them immediately.

      “He tried to take my laptop,” Stephanie puffed.

      The security man answered a call from his radio. “No sign of the snatcher, but we’ll keep looking.” He gave her a quizzical stare. “I’ve been working here since the new terminal opened six years ago, and this has never happened before. Are you sure you don’t know who that was?”

      Stephanie shrugged. “He was wearing a hat.”

      “Uh-huh. Police will be here in a moment for your statement.”

      Tate and Luca helped her to a chair, and her brother gave her a tissue to apply to her lip. Another airport employee offered her medical attention, which she declined except for an ice pack.

      “Are you sure you’re okay?” Luca said.

      She nodded. “Fine, just a bloody lip.”

      Tate shook his head. “You didn’t think it would be nuts to try and tackle the guy?”

      Her eyes opened wide in exasperation. “He tried to steal my computer.”

      Tate’s stomach tightened as he looked at her, brown eyes glinting, outrage painted across her delicate features. Small woman, with courage as big as any man he’d ever met. He didn’t love her anymore; there was too much anger and hurt between them to ever allow those feelings to take hold again. Still, he wondered why his heart beat unsteadily as he drank her in.

      Luca sighed. “It won’t do any good to tell her it was a dumb thing to do.”

      “Wasn’t going to try.”

      Luca and Tate exchanged a look, probably their first that wasn’t a hostile stare down.

      “I’ll go finish with the rental car then.” Luca looked at Stephanie. “Can you just sit there until I get back?”

      “I’ll try,” Stephanie said.

      Tate reached over and picked a sliver of paper from her hair, smoothing the dark silky strands into place. Soft and fine, just like he remembered.

      She pulled back and finger combed her hair into some semblance of order. “I’m sure I look ridiculous after rolling around the airport floor.”

      “Nope. Same as always. Raindrops on roses.” As the words left his mouth, his face flushed hot. Had he really said that? His mother always maintained that the most beautiful thing she could think of was raindrops on roses, and when he and Stephanie were together, it was his favorite way to tell her in his clumsy fashion how gorgeous she was. Gorgeous, perfect, different...and not his anymore. They were strangers, now and forever. He felt her eyes searching his face as he turned away, awkward as a teen boy.

      He moved aside, pretending to look over the crowd, but inside blood pounded an erratic rhythm in his veins. Go, do something, anything. He pulled out his phone to check for messages he knew weren’t there, then he strolled to the drinking fountain and sucked down some water. When he looked back again, he was relieved to see Stephanie deep in conversation with Luca. The slip hadn’t meant anything to her. Nothing at all.

      The cops arrived to take her statement. She didn’t give them much. They were traveling on business; the would-be thief was a stranger. She provided a number where they could call with any follow-up questions, and that was that.

      Luca and Stephanie retrieved their bags, and the three headed outside into the hot southern California air to pick up their rental car. Tate arranged to follow in the truck he’d borrowed from Gilly. After only a few paces, however, Stephanie stopped them both.

      “I just figured it out.”

      “What?” both men said at once.

      “The guy who tried to take my laptop.”

      “You said he was a stranger,” Luca said.

      “He is, but I’ve seen him before.” Her dark eyes danced in thought. “I remember cutting around his van in traffic.” She looked at Tate. “When we left Bittman’s mansion, right after he flew off with Dad.”

      Tate’s eyes widened. “I thought he seemed familiar.” He snapped his fingers. “The hair. It was Bittman’s pool guy. He followed you from San Francisco.”

      “Who is he?” Luca grimaced in thought. “Someone Bittman hired to keep tabs on us?”

      Tate shook his head. “Seems like he wouldn’t have his flunkies interfere. What good would that do? His pool guy might be working against him.”

      “Why?” Stephanie’s expression was grave. “Who even knows the violin still exists?”

      Luca’s face was grave. “Is it possible Bittman was right about what happened all those years ago at his father’s shop? About the arsonist?”

      “Not just an arsonist,” Tate said. “Remember, the fire killed Bittman’s brother.”

      “He’s returned and he’s after the violin. The person who has it might be able to finger him for murder. He wanted my laptop to see if we’d found anything that could help him.” Stephanie felt her pulse pound. “I think we’d better get moving.”

      Tate was already on his way to the truck. “I think you’re right.”