Wish Upon a Christmas Star (3 page)

“Mike didn’t call any of us after the plane hit,” Maria said.
“What if that was because he wasn’t there?”

“Oh, sweetie. Lots of other reasons make more sense. His phone
might have been dead. Or maybe he was looking for a way out and couldn’t take
the time to call.”

“His remains were never identified,” Maria reminded her.

“Neither were the remains of more than a thousand other people.
That’s about forty percent of the victims,” Annalise said. “The authorities did
the best they could, but it was an impossible task.”

“So we can’t completely rule out that Mike wasn’t at the
restaurant that day,” Maria said.

“Yes, we can,” she insisted. “If he were alive, wouldn’t he
have contacted us in the last eleven years to let us know?”

“I admit that part doesn’t make sense, but Mike was angry at
the world when he left for New York. He wasn’t getting along with any of us.”
Maria could tell that her arguments weren’t swaying her sister. She tried
another tactic. “Don’t you want to know what I found out about the phone
number?”

“Sure.” Annalise didn’t sound optimistic.

“The calls came from a prepaid phone, as if whoever made them
doesn’t want to be found,” Maria said. “He must be in Key West, though. That’s
where the envelope was postmarked.”

“I’ll admit the entire situation is strange,” Annalise said
slowly, “but Mike didn’t make those calls or send those photos.”

“Then who did?” Maria asked. “It seems out of character for
Mike to have given that nude photo of Caroline away.”

“C’mon, Maria. Someone else might be behind this.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, “but I think it’s worth looking into the
possibility it might be Mike.”

Annalise held up a finger and got her cell phone out of her
purse. She appeared to be scrolling through a list of numbers before she pushed
one.

“Hey, this is Annalise,” she said after a moment and turned
away, walking to the other end of the room so it was harder for Maria to hear
her.

That was fine with Maria. She already guessed that her sister
had Jack on the line. Their surviving brother had moved to Virginia’s Eastern
Shore earlier in the year to be with his girlfriend. Maria suspected Annalise
was trying to enlist Jack’s help in convincing her she was wasting her time. A
part of her didn’t blame her sister for trying to protect her. If Maria raised
her hopes too high and came up with nothing, it would be like losing Mike all
over again. But if she found him...

She went back to the computer and entered her brother’s name in
a search engine. She got quite a few hits, each one of which she’d need to check
out. Figuring there was no point to delay in making her airline reservation, she
called up another tab and went to a travel site.

“Promise me something.” Annalise suddenly stood beside her,
looking over her shoulder at the computer screen. Maria hadn’t even realized her
sister had gotten off the phone. “Promise me you won’t make that reservation
until you talk to him.”

Annalise’s eyes looked tortured. She’d lost a brother, too,
Maria reminded herself. All three of them had. If Annalise wanted her to talk to
Jack before she started her investigation, it was the least she could do.

“I promise,” she said. “I won’t make the reservation until I
talk to Jack.”

“Jack?” Annalise shook her head. “That wasn’t Jack on the
phone. It was Logan Collier.”

CHAPTER TWO

L
OGAN
SPOTTED
A
NNALISE
DiMarco the instant he entered the noisy Italian
restaurant, which was decorated for the holidays with strung holly and tiny
white lights.

He barely had time to breathe in the scents of spicy tomato
sauce and baked bread before she sprang to her feet. After pausing to say
something to her dining companion, a black-haired woman with her back to the
door—who had to be Maria—rushed to his side.

“Hey, Annalise.” Logan leaned down to kiss her cheek. He’d
barely connected when she grabbed his arm and dragged him off to the side of the
hostess stand, nearer the exit and the coat rack.

“Hey, Logan,” she said conversationally, as though she hadn’t
just hijacked him. “Thanks for coming.”

Annalise had the dark hair and light eyes common to the
DiMarcos, except her hair was brown and her eyes green. The oldest sibling, she
was also the only one with children. With Logan’s help, she and her husband had
invested wisely enough that they should be able to fulfill their goal of paying
for their two sons’ college educations.

“For a minute there I thought you were going to push me out the
door.” He would have gone through it eagerly if Annalise had changed her mind
about what she’d asked of him.

“Nothing like that,” she said. “I was getting you out of
Maria’s field of vision. You know, in case she turns around to see if I really
went to the restroom.”

He groaned. “I thought Maria knew that I was meeting both of
you here.”

Annalise shook her head. “Not exactly. You know how I called
and asked if you needed directions to the restaurant?”

“Yeah.” He’d thought that was odd considering Donatelli’s had
occupied the same location for twenty years.

“I was supposed to tell you not to come. Maria practically
ordered me.”

“Ordered you? That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not good,” she confessed. “Her exact words were something
like, ‘No way in hell am I talking to him.’”

Logan winced. He should have anticipated that. The days were
long gone when Maria would jump into his arms and kiss him whenever more than
twenty-four hours went by without them seeing each other.

“Don’t let it bother you,” Annalise said. “Maria doesn’t want
to talk to me about this, either. She hasn’t changed, you know. She’s still
hardheaded when she makes up her mind about something.”

Logan cleared his throat, preparing to ask the question that
had been uppermost in his mind since Annalise had phoned him. “Does she really
believe Mike’s alive?”

His voice broke on Mike’s name. Logan hadn’t spoken the
youngest DiMarco’s name aloud in years. He’d thought about him, though,
especially when the anniversary of 9/11 rolled around. On those dates, Logan was
consumed by memories of Mike DiMarco.

A teenage couple entered the restaurant hand in hand, their
eyes locked on each other, the corners of their mouths lifted in smiles. It
wasn’t only the girl’s long, straight black hair that reminded Logan of Maria.
It was the way she looked at her boyfriend.

“She’s a private investigator,” Annalise said. “She has to know
there could be another explanation. And the way she was talking, it sounds like
she’s leaning that way.”

He nodded once, fully understanding why Annalise had phoned
him. Mike DiMarco was dead. Period. Nothing but pain lay ahead for Maria if she
let herself believe otherwise.

“Okay. I’ll do my best to convince her she’s on the wrong
track.” He swept a hand to indicate Annalise should precede him into the dining
room, where the young couple was following a hostess to a table. “Let’s get on
with it.”

“Oh, I’m not going back in there.” Annalise walked past him to
the coat rack and rummaged through a number of winter garments before pulling
out a black leather one. “I left my jacket over here so I could sneak out.”

Everything inside Logan went still. “Maria won’t like
that.”

“Maria hasn’t liked anything I’ve said to her for the past
hour,” her sister said. “She wouldn’t have come to dinner if she hadn’t promised
to treat me. If I stay, it’ll seem like we’re ganging up on her.”

“If you go,” Logan said slowly, “I won’t like it, either.”

“Thanks for coming to help out,” Annalise said, shrugging into
her jacket, which looked too thin to keep her warm. She headed for the exit but
turned before she reached it. “Almost forgot to tell you, I drove. Maria’s car
is at her office. You can take her back, right? Thanks!”

She whirled and fled, leaving Logan to gather his courage for a
conversation he should have had in the aftermath of the terrorist attack.

There was something about that day he’d never told anybody,
something that had been eating at him ever since.

If the information would help Maria, it was time he got it off
his chest, even if it made her dislike him more than she already did.

* * *

A
NNALISE
WAS
TAKING
AN
awfully long time
in the restroom. If Maria had insisted on them both driving, she could have
jotted down an apology on a napkin and sneaked out.

She regretted coming to dinner at all. She itched to be at the
computer, squaring away her flight, or on the phone working the case instead of
listening to Annalise tell her not to go to Key West.

At least she’d gotten it through her sister’s thick skull that
she had no intention of meeting with Logan Collier.

The text tone on her cell phone buzzed. She rummaged through
her voluminous leather purse on her lap, annoyed at herself for not putting the
phone in the zippered compartment. The text was from Annalise and consisted of
one word:
Sorry.

“Hello, Maria.”

Logan. She jerked her gaze from her sister’s apologetic text to
the man she’d once loved with her whole heart. The breath left her, exactly as
if she’d been punched in the stomach.

He wasn’t quite six feet tall yet seemed taller because of his
excellent posture. He was nearly as lean as he’d been as a teenager but more
muscular. His thick brown hair was shorter, although it still sprang back from
his forehead and the strands at his nape still curled. Age lent his regular
features character and added fine lines that bracketed the hazel eyes she’d
always thought were so pretty.

Maria had to consciously tell herself to stop staring and start
breathing again. “Hello, Logan.”

“Mind if I join you?” He nodded to the chair Annalise had
vacated after their waitress had cleared away the dinner dishes. Despite the
apologetic text, Maria didn’t want to believe her sister had cut out on her.

“Annalise is sitting there,” she said.

“Was sitting there,” he corrected. “She’s gone.”

“I can’t believe it.” Maria shook her head as it sank in that
her sister had abandoned her. “I told her I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“For the record, I thought you knew I was coming.” He indicated
the chair again. “So can I sit down? You might want to say yes, because I’m your
ride.”

Maria’s pulse skittered. It was all her sister’s fault.
Annalise was going to pay.

“By all means.” She worked on composing herself while he took
off his black wool car coat. Underneath he wore a burgundy long-sleeved shirt
that made him appear vibrant and engaging. He settled across from her.

Before either of them could say a word, their young blonde
waitress arrived with two cups of coffee and two slices of chocolate cheesecake.
Annalise had remarked earlier in the evening that the girl looked as if she was
having a bad day. Not anymore. A smile stretched across her pretty face.

“Well, hello there,” she said to Logan. “You must have just
arrived. I couldn’t have missed you.”

“You’re right. I just got here.” One corner of Logan’s mouth
lifted in a way that used to make Maria melt when they were teenagers.

The half smile appeared to have the same effect on the
waitress. It had been that way in the old days, too. Females found Logan
attractive. Maria had always thought it was because he didn’t seem to realize
exactly how good-looking he was.

“My sister left,” Maria announced to get the waitress’s
attention. “We won’t be having dessert and coffee, after all.”

“Are you sure?” She tilted her head and chewed her bottom lip.
“I’m not certain I can take them back. You did order them.”

“Then just leave everything on the table,” Logan said. “We’ll
be here for a little while longer.”

“Great!” Her enthusiasm was out of proportion to the situation.
“Hope you enjoy!”

“Didn’t mean to step on your toes there, but she doesn’t seem
real experienced,” he said when the waitress was gone. “Besides, I can always go
for a piece of cheesecake.”

He’d always had a sweet tooth. In high school, when they were
dating, Maria used to make it a point to have home-baked chocolate chip cookies
on hand when they studied together at her house.

“By all means, dig in,” she said.

He took a bite of cheesecake, and her eyes arrowed straight to
his mouth. With lips that were slightly full for a man’s, he had a gorgeous one.
She shifted in her seat, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. They hadn’t been alone
since they’d broken up, senior year of high school. In all that time, she’d seen
him only once, at her brother’s memorial service. If, that is, she didn’t count
the time she’d spotted him at the mall and ducked into a children’s clothing
store to avoid him.

“How long are you home for?” she asked.

“Just a few days.” He’d never had much of an accent—most people
who lived in the Lexington area didn’t—but any trace of Kentucky in his speech
was entirely gone. “My parents are leaving for a cruise on Wednesday and I’ve
got to get back to work.”

Ah, work. It defined him. If not for his insistence on going
out of state to the University of Michigan to get a master’s degree in business
so he could make the almighty buck, they’d still be together.

She’d wanted him to stick closer to home—and to her—by pursuing
his dream of becoming a painter at an art school in Louisville. They could have
moved into an apartment together, with Maria getting a job that would have paid
the rent.

He’d called her proposal too risky, refusing to consider art
school and declaring that he needed to be financially secure before he’d live
with anyone.

The fact that he hadn’t loved her enough to take a chance on
them still stung.

“Are you at the same firm in New York?” She didn’t know why she
asked when she already knew the answer. The financial giant had hired Logan
right out of college, where he’d managed to get both his bachelor’s degree and
MBA in four years. If he’d changed jobs, Annalise would have mentioned it. She
and her husband still used Logan to manage their finances. Since the firm where
he worked was such a powerhouse, Maria was sure Logan kept them on as a
favor.

“The same one,” he answered.

“And still conscientious, I see.” Maria couldn’t hold back the
rest of her thought. “You’re rushing to get back to work when most other people
are going on holiday.”

His shoulders stiffened. “It’s a good job.”

“I’m happy for you, then.” She wanted to know if he was still
painting, except that was another volatile topic of discussion. Better to leave
it be.

“How are things with you?” he asked.

“Can’t complain.” She picked up her fork, then put it down.
She’d barely been able to choke down dinner. She wouldn’t be able to eat the
dessert Annalise had talked her into ordering. “I quit the police force four
years ago to go into private investigation. I’m a one-woman show, but I like it
that way.”

“I heard you got divorced,” he said.

She was probably imagining the edge to his voice. He hadn’t
cared enough to hang on to her, so why would her ex-husband be a sensitive
subject?

“That was a while back,” she said. Before she’d left the
sheriff’s office but after she’d made the decision to quit. “We weren’t a good
match.”

Logan nodded, saying nothing, and added two creams and two
sugars to his coffee.

“How’s the family?” he asked before he took a swig.

She avoided looking at his mouth, determined not to get
sidetracked. “Everybody’s good. You keep up with Annalise. My parents are still
working, and Jack’s going back to school to work with developmentally disabled
kids. I think he’ll be engaged soon.”

“Glad to hear it.” Logan licked a drop of coffee from his lower
lip. He put down the cup and rested his wrists on the table. “Do they know you
think Mike might still be alive?”

The conversation and background music that had created a
constant hum since she’d arrived at Donatelli’s Restaurant seemed to fade. Her
ears rang with the question. No way could she avoid the subject any longer.

“No,” she stated. “I thought it would be better not to say
anything until I know something definite.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s pretty obvious. Losing Mike was hard enough the first
time. I don’t want them to have to go through that pain again.”

“That’s why I agreed to talk to you when Annalise called.”
Logan leaned forward slightly, pinning her with his gaze. “Mike’s dead,
Maria.”

She dragged her eyes away from the certainty in his. “How much
do you know about what’s going on?”

“I only know what Annalise told me,” he said.

“Then I’ll fill you in.” Once she shared the details, maybe
both Logan and Annalise would leave her alone to conduct her investigation. She
relayed the day’s events, omitting nothing.

He listened in silence with his arms crossed over his chest.
When she was through talking, he released a harsh breath. “Someone’s playing a
sick joke. But it’s not Mike.”

“How can you possibly be sure of that?” Maria snapped.