Wish on the Moon (32 page)

After a few moments, he reassured her again.
"If anything makes you too uncomfortable, you can say so. I'm sorry
I wasn't here when the interview started. I would have laid down
some ground rules." He glared at Tessa as she was studying her
notes.

"When you offered me the opportunity to
publicize Paige's disappearance again, you said Tessa Kahill was
the best. Maybe you should let her do her job. Before we started,
she told me she has to be on a plane out of L.A. tonight to
Afghanistan."

"You like her," Linc noted with a wry
smile.

"We talked before the interview. Yes, I do.
And I respect her."

"Good." He sounded relieved. "Then I'll let
her continue and I won't interfere again. But I would like to
discuss something with you when this is over. Do you have
time?"

What could he want to discuss with her?
They'd spoken at length about what had happened to Paige, the
little bit she knew, and Emma's desire to stay out of the spotlight
for her daughter's sake. But he seemed to have something important
to say and she did want to hear it.

"My next door neighbor is watching Becky.
I'll have some time."

He was quiet for a few moments, but the
intensity of his expression suddenly gave her the knowledge that
Linc Granger was a very different man than Barrett Henderson had
been.

It shouldn't matter.

But she found herself wanting to listen to
Linc, even though she suspected that simple conversation with him
could unsettle her life even more.

#

What a stupid thing to do!

Linc never interrupted the flow of an
interview. When he'd asked Tessa to do this, she'd told him she
could fit it in during a layover in L.A. She'd been in Mexico
interviewing some diplomat, and then she was gone again for
Afghanistan to tape a special report.

So why had he jumped in?

Because Emma Trent Henderson fascinated him.
She and her four-year-old daughter had been through the cable
newsringer when her sister had disappeared three months ago. Yet
she'd somehow retained her dignity and poise. Still, the lost look
in her expressive brown eyes when she spoke about her sister,
Paige, haunted him.

From her first press conference, he'd been
intrigued by her and her story. Maybe because he knew someone who
could help her if she wanted to be helped. Unorthodox means weren't
for everyone, but he had the feeling Emma had exhausted the usual
channels.

The cameras were rolling again and Tessa was
asking more questions. As he listened to the rest of the interview,
he became more sure about the information he wanted to give Emma.
When he heard Tessa end her questions with, "Tell me how you feel
as a widow, with a four-year-old to raise and no idea where your
sister is," he listened hard.

Emma didn't hesitate to say softly,
"Sometimes I feel as if I'm in limbo. I'm searching for answers and
I don't know if I'll ever find them."

Linc knew he had to tell Emma about Gillian
Bradley and her special gift.

#

When Emma finished the interview, she felt
wrung out. Not a new feeling these days. But after she thanked
Tessa, she turned to find Linc waiting for her. It was easy for her
to think of using his first name and she wasn't sure exactly
why.

She'd worn a flowered sundress for the
interview, a dress she often wore when taking sales orders in her
gift basket shop,
Occasional Baskets
. But now she wished
she'd worn something a little more sophisticated...because Linc
Granger in his custom-tailored suit, tie and expensive shirt
shouted sophistication.

Who was she kidding?

She'd never been sophisticated. Hard working
and tasteful, maybe, but never sophisticated.

After the camera lights shut down and she
stood, Linc took her elbow. She felt the heat from his fingers
through her whole body. It was an odd, wake-up feeling that she'd
never experienced with Barrett.

Barrett. He'd only been gone a year. How
could she even be attracted to someone else?

Okay, so that's what this feeling was toward
Linc Granger...attraction. So much for that. He certainly didn't
drive his car in her neighborhood.

Linc glanced around the set where techs were
bustling by and men in suits strode purposefully here and there. He
frowned.

Even frowning, his face was ruggedly handsome
with character lines around his eyes that cut deep. From laughter?
Or worry?

Turning his focus back to her, he asked, "My
car service picked you up, right?"

"Yes, thank you. It was nice to relax for a
change driving into the city."

He smiled, and then the smile slipped away.
He actually looked uncertain for a moment, but only for a very
fleeting moment. "We're not going to find privacy here," he
explained. "Even in my office I'm constantly interrupted. Would you
consider taking a drive? I have a place on the beach—"

At her surprised expression he held up his
hand in a "stop" gesture. "This is not a proposition," he assured
her, his voice lowering. "I can even provide you numbers of a few
good friends if you want to check me out. I just believe we need
privacy for this discussion."

And just what discussion was it? "I checked
you out before I agreed to do this interview," she admitted. "At
least as much as I could."

He looked mildly amused. "So, what did you
find when you checked me out?"

"I found out that everything you do pretty
much turns to gold. You went to Cal State for a degree in Cinema
and TV Arts. You directed a couple of small films, afterward
turning that money over into investments. Then you started
gathering professionals around you who wanted to make the same
films and then TV shows that you did. You've produced cable
documentaries as well as network hits. But that all involves
business, not your character or your personal life."

"My personal life is off limits to
reporters." That was said without any amusement at all.

"I did find a couple of Google images with
you escorting celebrities or models to charity functions and social
galas. But that really didn't tell me much."

His eyebrows arched, thick eyebrows over deep
green eyes that made her feel a little fluttery inside. Okay, maybe
a lot fluttery inside.

"So why did you decide to do the interview?"
he asked.

"Because I found transcripts of other
interviews you produced. They were honest and considerate of
whomever was being interviewed. I also liked your..." She
hesitated. "Your point of view when we talked. I didn't feel you
were going to sensationalize what had happened to me. You proved it
just now when you stepped in."

The nerve in his almost-square jaw worked for
a moment. Then that small giveaway of tension was gone. "I want to
discuss something other than letting the police direct the
investigation to find your sister."

That's all she needed to hear. "Let's go for
that drive."

A half-hour later they were in Linc's sporty
silver luxury sedan, heading toward the ocean. Up until now they'd
made small talk about the interview, about Tessa, about Emma's
daughter who was learning so fast and growing so much. She'd called
Becky's sitter before they'd left to make sure Maris and her
daughter could find something for supper if she wasn't back in
time.

At a lull in the conversation, Emma watched
Linc's large hands on the steering wheel. He'd discarded his suit
jacket and tie and opened the top two buttons on his shirt before
he'd climbed into the car. Sitting beside him like this, the
atmosphere seemed oddly intimate as the day started winding down
and the sun sank lower on the horizon.

"Not much longer," he told her.

She sent him a small smile. "Am I looking
impatient?"

"No, just a little nervous. Are you sure you
don't want to call my best friend?"

That probably would have been wise. But Linc
seemed straightforward. "Tell me about your best friend."

After Linc cut her a glance, he focused on
the highway again. "His name is Nathan Bradley. He's a family man
with two daughters from his first marriage he sees a lot, and a
little boy, Matthew, from his second marriage. He's an internet
security expert who flies all over the country, taking care of
important people's networks."

"I like the fact that you put his family
history before his work."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you
I baby-sit for Nathan? I did before he married Gillian and I do
now. Their kids call me Uncle Linc."

She laughed. "Maybe I should talk to
them
."

He laughed, too, and glanced at her again.
Something intangible passed between them that she seemed to feel in
her heart. How crazy was that?

Fifteen minutes later, Linc turned off the
highway and took a series of turns. After he drove down a long
drive, they exited the car and Emma looked around.

A one-story house sprawled before her and she
could see the ocean beyond. "What a beautiful setting," she
murmured.

"I like it. It's worth the commute. We're
alone here. If you prefer to walk the beach instead of going
inside, I'll understand."

Alone with Linc Granger. Maybe she should
have trepidations about that, but she didn't. She felt excited.
Because they were going to talk about a way to find her sister? Or
because he was one very sexy man?

Because he was going to give her information
to find a way to find Paige, of course.

"I'll shed my shoes and we can walk the
beach," she decided, taking the safer route.

"Give me five minutes to get comfortable and
then we'll walk. There's a deck around back. Would you like
something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Be right back."

Emma found cushy chairs and chaises on his
deck, but she was too fidgety to sit. Instead, she stood at the
railing, looking out at the ocean, wondering if her sister was
still alive and if she was,
where
she was. She'd spent so
many hours while Paige had been gone thinking about that—praying,
hoping and trying to stay positive. But how could she when such
dark visions invaded the others? Paige's car wasn't worth the bald
tires it had been running on, so no one would have wanted to hijack
her car. Had she had engine trouble again, left the vehicle and
started walking? Had someone picked her up and then—

There were those dark thoughts that Emma
didn't want to have, but knew she had to be realistic about.

When Linc emerged from the house he wore a
blue polo shirt and denim cutoffs. His feet were bare.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready to find my sister," she agreed.

She kept her shoes on until they reached the
bottom of the wooden steps where grass and sand began. Then she
took them off and laid them on the step. Seagrass tickled her legs
as they made their way across the sand to the packed beach.

As they walked along the shore, the wind
tossing their hair, Linc asked, "Do you believe in things you can't
see?"

Her gaze met his. "You mean religion?"

He blew out a breath. "No, that's not what I
mean. I'm just going to lay this all out," he said. "If you want to
walk back to my house, get in the car and go home, that's fine. But
I felt this was an option you should consider."

"You're not talking about a private
investigator, are you?" The spray from the ocean misted them as
they left their footprints on the shoreline.

"Sort of."

"Linc, I can't afford one. I hired someone
the first week after Paige disappeared. But he couldn't find
anything and I couldn't afford to have him go on looking. When
Barrett died, he didn't have life insurance. It was one of those
things he kept putting off doing. Thank goodness I had my business,
but with insurance costs and the mortgage, I don't have much left
over each month."

Linc stopped and took her arm. Again his
touch made her tummy somersault and her pulse race. But she had to
focus on what they were discussing, not her reactions to him.

"Emma, this isn't about money. It's about a
gift my best friend's wife has. Nathan's wife, Gillian, works with
another friend of mine, Jake Donovan. Jake used to be a cop. Then
he turned to private investigation. But after he met Gillian, his
life changed. For the most part he and Gillian find missing
persons, especially lost children. They started a foundation for
this purpose. People they've helped have donated a lot of money.
Funds just seem to stream in because it's a good cause."

"So Nathan's wife, Gillian, is a private
investigator, too?"

"No, she's not. Nathan found Gillian through
Jake as a last-ditch effort when his ex-wife disappeared with his
daughters. Gillian found them for him. She has a gift. Some people
would label her a psychic. She doesn't think of herself that way.
She just seems to be able to tune in to missing persons. She gets
sensations and feelings and in themselves they're not enough. But
when family members are questioned, or Jake does research tracking
down information Gillian gets, they've got a 99% success rate."

Emma was astonished by what Linc was telling
her. He was a rational businessman and yet he obviously believed in
what he called Gillian's gift.

"Let's walk some more," she said to Linc,
pulling her arm from his clasp because she couldn't think straight
with his hand on her skin.

Silent as they walked, he glanced at her
every now and then. She could feel that glance, feel his concern
and compassion for her.

Finally she said, "My dad left after Paige
was born. We never heard from him again. My mom was really hurt by
his abandonment. When she felt hurt, she went to church, taking us
with her for the same comfort she found there until she died of
breast cancer."

Linc stopped walking again. "I'm sorry."