neat so it won’t put your female cleaning hormones into overdrive.”
She followed when he gave her no opportunity to protest. “Sit,” he ordered when she entered the small room.
His idea of neat and hers were worlds apart. Stack after stack of magazines and newspapers from all over the world took up about a third of the floor space and the end tables and coffee table. There was also a medium-size TV, a wall of bookcases stuffed haphazardly with books, a futon and an old beat-up leather recliner. The room fit his personality: rumpled, grumpy and brooding.
She chose the futon and, after picking up and stacking several of the newspapers and magazines into a neat pile, she sat in the newly cleared space.
“You’re already driving me crazy and we haven’t been working together five minutes,” he said, raking his hair off his forehead. “So tell me what all you’ve figured out about Ian Kelly’s murder.”
“He was killed on the flight line.”
“Then it really was about Air Force business.” Travis leaned back in his seat. “Sam thought it was something to do with this influx of drugs that are driving him and the rest of CSPD crazy. In that case, I don’t see what I can do for you.”
She couldn’t very well blurt out that his father was looking pretty good as the kingpin of Diablo, the syndicate she thought was the Colorado Springs arm of La Mano Oscura. She was nearly sure the proof of the connection between the two organizations had been within Ian’s grasp but couldn’t confirm it yet.
“Five or six of our pilots look good for the runners. One of them is the guy I was following yesterday. We can’t afford to trip over each other again.”
“And how on earth do we explain our being together all the time, or haven’t you and your general thought that far?”
Tricia swallowed, and crossed her legs carefully to hide her nervousness. “Well…er…the general has decided on a way to handle it.”
Travis raised one eyebrow. “And what is the general’s brilliant idea?”
“We’re inseparable because—” she tried to make her expression as neutral as she could “—we’re dating again.”
Chapter Four
“What did you say?” Travis bellowed.
And Patricia Streeter, the girl who’d broken his heart and sent his life into a tailspin didn’t even blink at his outrage. Instead she sat back, crossed her long legs once again and settled into the soft cushion of the futon.
“I said we’re supposed to be dating. We have to act as if we’re crazy about each other. You’ll go where I go, I’ll go where you go. Officially, I’ll take leave to give us the time to decide if I want to get out of the Air Force to be with you or if you’ll be following me to my next duty station.”
“And they say I’m crazy,” he muttered, and caught himself raking his fingers through his hair again. Why was it he kept blowing his cool with her? She just plain unnerved him. That’s all there was to it. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. To be near her. See her all the time. It wasn’t going to happen.
But if he didn’t and something happened to her…
Travis had seen the crime scene photos of Major Kelly. The thought of seeing Patty like that… He shook his head. No, she was Tricia now. Major Streeter. That was even better. This woman bore little resemblance to the pretty coed he’d loved to distraction. But it occurred to him that, even with all that had happened and all the years that had passed, none of it mattered. Not in the face of the stark fact that she was searching for the person or persons responsible for Major Kelly’s murder, and that by working the case alone she could very well end up as the major had.
He felt himself start to hyperventilate and jumped to his feet to pace across the room then back to his chair. The idea of those men catching her. Of what they might do to her if they did. South American drug cartels were ruthless, and he’d lay odds the guy he’d been tailing the day before was South American. And Sam thought La Mano Oscura could be involved with Diablo. So it stood to reason the Air Force pilots she was after were probably linked to both organizations. It was the only thing that made sense. But proving it? Stopping it? That was another matter.
And why was she so determined?
Jealousy, hot and angry, reared its unreasonable head once again. “You must have been pretty crazy about Kelly to put yourself in this kind of danger to avenge him,” he growled. “You really think anyone will believe you’re with me only a couple weeks after his death?”
Her lips pressed into a firm line. “Don’t try to make more of this than it is. I said Ian was a friend. He, his wife and daughters made me feel like one of the family when I was transferred here. They deserve justice. I want the man or men who killed him. So does General Fielding. It’s my job and it could mean a promotion for me, too. Those are my reasons.”
Travis stared at her then nodded, feeling like a prize fool for his anger. They’d been apart for years. He’d had a wife and a child. He pushed away those thoughts. He couldn’t think about Allison or Natalie now. He had failed to protect them, but maybe in protecting Tricia he could make up for his failure just a little.
“You like anyone for Kelly’s murder?” he asked, pretending a calm he still didn’t feel. “The pilot you were tailing, maybe?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.” She looked even more troubled. “Maybe someone higher up.”
“How high is high?”
“Possibly as high as a brigadier general. George Hadley is his name. We transferred him and his wing to Peterson where they could be watched. They were stationed at Cascade.”
Travis remembered reading something about all that a few months back. “The base the Air Force is afraid has a major active fault running under it?”
She smirked. “There’s no fault. And no geological survey going on. It’s an elaborate ruse to get Hadley and his wing where we can track their movements better. A handful of pilots under him formed a club called the Buccaneers. There are seven members. They bought into a fifties-era F-100 Super Sabre together. They trade weekends taking her up.”
Travis narrowed his eyes. This was getting interesting. “That jet has over a thousand-mile range, doesn’t it?”
“Sixteen-sixty.”
Whistling, Travis grabbed for a notepad so he could take notes. “They could get to a lot of places with it. Tough places to track them to. How’d the Air Force get wise to them in the first place?”
“One of the Bucs reported an odd talk he had with General Hadley. He got the idea Hadley was feeling him out to see if he’d do anything illegal. At the time he thought he was suspected of something. He got indignant and General Hadley accepted his word that he’d done nothing wrong.”
“And that was Hadley’s misstep?”
“The first we’ve heard about. Within the following month, the pilot, Captain Kevin Johnston, started to notice some odd things about his fellow Buccaneers. Like more flight hours on the F-100 than those they logged. They all tried to pass it off as hotdogging midflight but they all also seemed to have a bit too much money to spend, considering the cost of those long flights and the loan payments on the plane.”
She paused and straightened the magazines, then caught his eyes and stopped, guiltily hiding her hands behind her. Then she cleared her throat and continued. “Then Captain Johnston noticed nearly the same number of miles on each flight the other members took no matter where they claimed to have gone on their time off. He put that together with seeing them looking a little too comfortable around the highest-ranking officer at Cascade, General Hadley. Captain Johnston was in basic with Ian so he came here to Peterson and went to him with his suspicions. Ian took it to Lieutenant General Charles Fielding, the base commander. General Fielding put Ian Kelly on