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The whole situation was becoming more and more unsettling.
"So now you know my life story," Dylan was saying. "That makes us even."
"I suppose."
He was watching her intently again. "If I can help make this easier for you, let me know."
"I'm not sure that's possible." She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. "When you called the hospital before, was he conscious?"
"Yeah. The police were with him."
"Will they tell him about me?"
"I asked them to stay out of it. I think they'll go along with that. They know we're on our way back to New York. I'm sure they'd rather leave emotional disclosures to friends and family, and stick to solving the crime."
"Do they have any leads?" Sabrina asked. "Anyone who might have a grudge against him? Anyone who stands to gain huge amounts of money or power if he dies? Or are they concentrating on digging up information on Ruisseau's rival companies—checking out people who'd benefit by killing off the competition?"
"They have their suspicions." A muscle flexed in Dylan's jaw. "I don't know how far they've gotten with the investigation. We'll find out soon enough."
Sabrina was taken aback by the hostility in his tone. He was certainly bugged by something pertaining to the investigation. Was he unhappy with the detectives' speed and thoroughness, or was it the direction they were taking that was ticking him off?
She opened her mouth to ask.
He cut her off before she could.
"Do you want to talk to Carson by yourself, or should I be there with you?"
That was enough to startle her back to the face-to-face meeting that was about to occur. "By myself?" She blinked. "Don't you think that's a little extreme? The man is fighting for his life. He has no idea I exist. If I march in there and announce who I am without any preparation from you—God, I can't imagine a shock like that being good for him."
Dylan was shaking his head, his earlier hostility having vanished as quickly as it came. "That's not what I meant. For his sake—and yours—I planned to go in first and lay the groundwork. What I wanted to know is, once I've given him the facts and introduced you, do you want me to stay or leave?"
"Oh." Sabrina hadn't actually thought that one through. Still, it was a no-brainer compared to the other decisions she'd made since yesterday. "Under the circumstances, I think that choice should be his. I'll go along with whatever he decides."
"Good enough. One more thing. As I said, Carson's heavily medicated. I'm not sure he's cognizant of the fact that he's been on dialysis, or that he might need a kidney transplant. It's going to hit him hard when he finds out. So let's not get into it just yet."
"Don't worry, I won't say a word. It's better that way anyway, since I haven't made any decision about what my next step will be—until after I've met him."
The words sounded hollow and insincere, even to Sabrina.
What's more, she realized with an abrupt flash of insight, they sounded equally insincere to Dylan. He'd led her right where he wanted her, acquainting her with Carson Brooks by presenting him in the most likeable, emotionally-compelling light possible. And he'd managed it either totally by chance, through his own opportune, yet genuine affection for the man, or through one of the most cleverly manipulated conversations she'd ever fallen victim to.
Sabrina didn't know why that bothered her so much. Maybe it was because she hated being bested, and she rarely was. More likely, it was because it drove home how emotionally involved in this whole situation she was. She hadn't expected it. It made her feel much too vulnerable. And she had no intention of letting Dylan Newport play on that vulnerability, no matter how worthy his motives were.
She edged a quick, sideways glance at him. He was putting up his tray, then repositioning his seat as the plane began its rapid descent into LaGuardia.
He was either giving her the space she needed to get herself together, or giving her a chance to steep in her newfound personal connection to Carson Brooks—a connection he'd made sure to foster.
Putting her at ease. Sharing his own personal story. A little flirtation. A hint of humor. A touch of compassion.
Nice work.
Sabrina snapped her own seat upright, feeling Dylan's gaze slide over her. He was assessing her, trying to figure out how won-over she was.
Good question.
A meeting was one thing; donating her kidney was another. Especially when donating her kidney meant affecting not only her life but the lives of her family.
Deliberately, Sabrina kept her face averted, busying herself with her seat belt, not giving Dylan anything definitive to go on. She wasn't ready to commit herself. Not yet.
