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Dent turned to face her. “What happened to the dog? Scooter?”
“He lived to be thirteen.”
“Your brother? What’s he doing now?”
“Technically Steven is my stepbrother. I was ten, he was twelve, Susan was fourteen when Daddy and Olivia married. Anyway, Steven left Austin after he graduated from high school. Went to college back east and stayed there.”
All he said in response to that was an indifferent huh.
“What did you mean by ‘my airplane came under attack’?”
He walked toward the desk, then sat—sprawled, really—in one of the chairs facing it, seemingly unaware of or not caring how out of place he looked wearing jeans and a western shirt with the tail out when the dress code for the executive offices called for a jacket and tie.
But then he’d always had a very casual regard for rules.
He linked his fingers and rested his hands on his stomach. “What part didn’t you understand?”
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“Cut the crap, Dent. Tell me what happened to your airplane.”
“Somebody broke into the hangar last night and beat it all to hell.” He described the damage. “That’s what we can tell just by looking. Gall hasn’t checked out the systems yet.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry, but I’m grounded. Grounded means no charters. Which means no income. To you… Hell, you probably don’t even understand the concept.”
His scorn smarted, because the truth of it was that she had never suffered a financial setback. In her family, money had never been a problem.
“The bank isn’t going to suspend my payments while the airplane is being fixed. I’ll be making payments on a plane I can’t fly. That is until I run out of money completely and can’t make the payments anymore, and then they’ll come and get it. If they repossess my airplane, I’m grounded for good. So your being sorry isn’t of much help, is it?”
“I deeply regret this. I do. I know you need the work.”
He focused on her sharply, then laughed drily and turned his head away. But when he looked at her again his eyes were smoky with anger. “So. You checked me out. Discovered that I’m barely scraping by. Took pity. Was that what yesterday was? You threw poor ol’ Dent a bone?”
“I told you why I contacted you.”
He continued to look at her in that searing way until she relented.
“All right, yes. I’d read that the airline released you after the incident.”
“Wrong. I walked after the incident.”
“Pension? Benefits?”
“Had to be sacrificed when I told them to shove it.” He pulled in his long legs and sat forward. “But we’re not going to talk about my financial woes right now. What we’re going to talk about is why somebody vandalized my airplane after breaking into your house and painting a warning on your bedroom wall.”
“What makes you think the two are related?”
He gave her another hard look.
“It’s strange, I’ll admit.”
“No, A.k.a. Let me tell you what’s strange. Strange is that when I got to your house last night, you were scared silly. Petrified, in fact. But you wouldn’t hear of calling the police. That’s strange. And don’t give me shit about publicity, not when you admit to going on TV and hawking your book. Gall saw a prerecorded interview this morning.”
“I didn’t want the publicity,” she exclaimed. She told him about Rocky Van Durbin and EyeSpy. “Ever since he printed my name and picture in that rag, and announced that my novel was based on fact, I haven’t had a moment’s peace. I didn’t want the notoriety.”
“Oh, come now,” he scoffed. “It helps sell books, doesn’t it?”
