Missing: One Bride

Alex leaned forward. “A man in his fifties with long white hair and black eyes?”

“Yes, that’s him,” the clerk said.

Thorn, his hands in tight fists, said, “How long have they been here?”

“Since yesterday afternoon,” the desk clerk answered as he punched up the information on his screen.

“Did they arrive together or separately?”

Alfred gave a pained little smile and sighed. “Mr. Powell, I must assure you that I would not have answered even this many questions if it wasn’t for the fact that you are such a valued guest and Mr. Hanks has left explicit instructions that we accommodate you in any way we can, but really, sir—”

“Together or apart?” Thorn repeated.

The desk clerk must have heard in Thorn’s voice the same note of authority tinged with recklessness that Alex heard. He said, “Apart. Mr. Blackwell checked in several hours before Miss Blackwell.”

Thorn stared at his feet. Alex knew he was reviewing facts in his mind. Then he said, “Where did they go?”

“Now, sir—”

The clerk slid Alex a loaded glance that clearly said, This man is your husband. Get him off my back! Alex smiled and shrugged.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” the clerk said at last.

“And I’m sure you do!” Thorn thundered.

Alex pulled on his arm. “Now, honey, this poor man is just doing his job, protecting the privacy of everyone, you know how it is. Remember when you got that other man fired, what was his name, Phil? Maybe it was Bill. Anyway, we don’t want this man’s job on our conscience now, do we?”

Thorn looked down at her and said, “Sure we do.”

“To the airport,” the clerk blurted out.

The answer surprised Alex and apparently Thorn, as well, for he stared at Alfred a full thirty seconds before demanding, “Why?”

“To catch a plane.”

“Of course. But what plane and to where?”

Another moment of silence as the man thought about his options, threw Alex a glance more furtive than the previous one, then finally heaved a beleaguered sigh. “Miss Blackwell wanted to shop. I overheard them talking. They said something about Seattle.”

“Have they checked out of the hotel?” Alex asked.

“No.”

“Then they’ll be back?” Thorn added.

The clerk nodded. “Mr. Blackwell said they would return this evening.”

Alex mentally prepared herself for a day of lobby sitting, but Thorn took her arm. “Thanks, Alfred.” He looked down at Alex and added, “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

Suddenly ravenous, Thorn ordered a big breakfast of steak and eggs, damn the cholesterol. He was a little surprised when Alexandra echoed his choice. She was smaller than Natalie and he’d expected her to eat the same way her friend did, which meant dry toast and tea for breakfast.

Once the food was consumed, he sat back in the leather armchair and stared out at the ocean, a second cup of coffee on the table in front of him.

“Thorn?”

He turned back to face Alexandra.

“I think I should go home,” she said softly.

He leaned his arms on the table. “I can’t drive you back now,” he said. “I have to see this through.”

“I know you do. But I don’t belong here, and besides, I don’t think you really need me hanging around.”

He stared into her eyes and felt a stab of panic assail him at the thought of her leaving. “Yes, I do,” he said. “You’re Natalie’s friend and you have to be here to keep me from throttling her.”

“You’re not going to throttle her,” she said with a slow smile.

“Okay, I’m not going to throttle her. Still, I wish you’d reconsider. Besides, it’ll be over tonight.”

“But I work tomorrow—”

“I’ll drive you home after we see Natalie.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know—”

“I’ll make the wait worth your while,” he said suddenly.

This earned him another smile. “How?”

“We’ll do something fun today. No reason we have to sit in the lobby when they won’t be back until tonight.”

She regarded him with her steady gaze that reminded him of the stars. “You’re different this morning,” she said.

“How?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. More lighthearted. Less…broken.”

“Well, let’s see. My fiancée is staying here under an assumed name with a man old enough to be her father, who may actually be her father—and if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you. I spent yesterday in a daze, and tonight I’m going to hear her side of the story, but today, here I am at the beach with a pretty girl and a few hours to kill. Let me assure you that inside, I’m still shattered, enraged, perplexed and boondoggled, but damn, I’m tired of wallowing in it. Allow me this charming front.”

She laughed. “Okay.”

“And stay with me, please.”

“As a distraction?” she asked, her eyes now mocking.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Will you? You’ve come this far. Of course, if there’s someone at home who will miss you, parents or friends you need to call, or pets to care for—”

“Nothing like that,” she said, interrupting. “I live alone, my parents are in Arizona and my only plans for today involved laundry. Okay, I’ll see it through.”