Missez (Wild Irish Silence Book 4) Read online

  “Gotta go, huh?” he said, grinning.

  Michael grinned back. “Yeah.”

  Skyler looked at his watch. “You got ten minutes while I gas up. The bathroom is that way.” He pointed in the direction of a group of buildings and then got out of the plane. Samantha had already headed off in that direction, so Michael ran to catch up to her. She showed him where to go, and was even waiting for him, leaning against the wall, when he came out of the building.

  “So,” Michael said as they walked back toward the aircraft, “how do you know my dad? Just from missions?”

  “Nope,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “I met him when I was in the academy four years ago. He was teaching the observer class for aviation. I was afraid to fly. He helped me out a lot.” She looked pointedly at Michael. “Your dad’s pretty cool. I’m glad he seems to be doing better.”

  “You noticed that too, huh?”

  “Yeah, he’d been really quiet since, well… you know, and now he seems livelier again. What happened?” she asked, then looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, it’s probably none of my business.”

  “No, it’s cool. He’d kill me if he knew I was talking to you about his heart attack, but he’s been seeing this woman and I think it’s made a difference.”

  “I guess so,” Samantha said, grinning. “You know, I had the biggest crush on him when I was in the academy.”

  “Yeah? What happened?”

  She smiled. “He told me to talk to him when I was about ten years older.”

  “How old are you?” Michael asked. Then it was his turn to look embarrassed. “Oops—my mother told me I’m not supposed to ask a lady’s age…”

  “I’m not old enough to be worried about that yet. I’m twenty-seven.”

  “So you were twenty-three then?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, I hate to tell you this, but the woman he’s seeing is thirty…”

  “Ah-ha!” Samantha said, laughing. “I knew it—he just didn’t want me. Is she a blond?”

  “No, she’s got black hair, and she’s a rock star. Ever heard of Billy and the Kid?” Samantha nodded. “He’s dating Billy Montague.”

  “Well,” Samantha said, sighing dramatically. “I guess I can’t measure up to that, now, can I?” Then she looked at Michael seriously as they reached the plane. “Is he really?”

  “Is he really what?” Skyler asked, walking around the aircraft and opening the door for them.

  Samantha grinned. “You’re dating Billy Montague?”

  Skyler rolled his eyes, then gave his son a sharp look. “Big mouth,” was all he said.

  “So it’s true?” Samantha said as she buckled herself in.

  “Yes, okay.” Skyler shook his head ruefully as he climbed into the pilot’s seat and put on his headset, hoping to delay any further conversation on the subject. But he immediately heard Samantha’s voice in his ear.

  “She’s younger than thirty-three—what’s she got that I don’t? Besides a perfect body and a lot of money?” Samantha’s voice was low, and Skyler glanced over. He noticed to his relief that Michael hadn’t donned his headset yet.

  “Be good,” Skyler told Samantha, grinning back at her.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said, laughing.

  The rest of the mission went off without a hitch. The ground crew ended up arresting the suspect and seizing two kilos of cocaine and $40,000 in cash. On the way back to Sacramento, Skyler again let Michael do a little bit of flying, keeping his hands close to the yoke at all times.

  That evening, Michael looked at his father with more respect, understanding now the job his dad did. They spent the following day much the same way, and Michael met yet another agent who thought aviation was the end all and be all of their cases. On the drive back to Skyler’s house that night, Skyler’s phone rang. He answered and was surprised to hear Theresa’s voice.

  “Skyler?”

  “Terry,” Skyler said, smiling.

  “Have you seen or heard from Michael?” She sounded frantic.

  Skyler looked sharply over at his son. Michael looked immediately contrite, realizing he’d failed to let his mother know he was staying with his father during his spring break. “He’s here, Terry,” Skyler said evenly, still looking at his son. “With me.”

  “Thank God!” Theresa said, clearly relieved. “I’ve been looking all over for him.”

  “I’m sorry, Ter, I figured he’d have called you,” Skyler said, sounding apologetic.

  “It’s not your fault our son’s an irresponsible lout,” Theresa said, her tone joking now.

  Skyler grinned. “He gets that from me.”

  Terry laughed. “Tell me about it. So what are you two up to?”

  “He’s kind of riding along with me, some sort of school thing.”

  “On his spring break?” Terry asked cynically. She knew Michael’s ways even better than Skyler.

  “Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought,” Skyler said, shaking his head.

  “Oh boy.” Terry had caught Skyler’s tone. “You just got rid of one kid, now you have the other one—so much for your social life.”

  “Didn’t have much of one anyway.”

  “Well, if you get tired of him, send him back to campus.”

  Skyler grinned. “You got it, Mom.”

  They talked for a couple of minutes more, then hung up. When Skyler looked over at his son, Michael was watching him. “What?” he said.

  “You and Mom seem to be getting along pretty good.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Skyler said mildly.

  “Nothing.” Michael shrugged. “It’s just different, that’s all.”

  “Different?”

  “I’m used to either cold silence or fighting between you two—this is different.”

  “Pretty rough, huh?” Skyler said, referring to the fighting.

  “Sometimes, like on holidays and stuff. Me and Chelsea feel pulled in different directions, and it’s hard not to feel like someone’s getting the short end of the stick, ya know?” Michael said tentatively.

  “Yeah,” Skyler said, looking thoughtful. “I’m sorry about that. You know, when your mom and I couldn’t work things out, the last thing I wanted to do was to make things hard on you kids. That’s why I gave her full custody. I didn’t want you to feel like you were being pulled apart.” He looked disheartened. “Guess that happened anyway, didn’t it?”

  “It’s not your fault, Dad,” Michael said, looking very adult to Skyler all of a sudden. “Things happen, and you can’t control them. I mean, I know you tried, but I guess Mom just couldn’t forgive you, that’s all.”

  Skyler looked over at his son. “There was a lot to forgive, Michael. I don’t know that any woman would have been able to do it. I was asking for too much.”

  Michael didn’t say anything for a long time, then gave his father a sidelong glance. “Billy’s the reason you and Mom broke up, isn’t she?”

  Skyler didn’t answer at first. Then he looked over at Michael, shaking his head. “No, she’s not. Billy was the last woman I had an affair with, not the only one. It wasn’t that simple, Michael. I do think that my affair with Billy was basically the straw that broke the camel’s back, but she wasn’t the cause of the divorce.”

  “Were there a lot of women, Dad?” Michael asked evenly.

  Skyler looked disconcerted as he nodded. “Where do you think you get it from?” he said tonelessly.

  “Then why was Billy different?”

  Again Skyler hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know that she was. I think your mom had just had it by that time. Can you blame her?” It was obvious to Michael that his father was ashamed of his past behavior.

  “But she’s obviously gotten over it now. I mean, if you two were together again…”

  Skyler shrugged. “I don’t know that saying she’s gotten over it is quite an accurate way to put it.”

  “Well, how or why else would she be with you again?” Michael as
ked, looking very confused.

  Skyler chuckled. “I think there’s a lot going on there. First of all, she saw a chance to get back a little of her own from Billy.”

  Michael looked impressed. “You mean, like take you back from Billy?”

  “Kind of,” Skyler said, shaking his head. “Who understands women?”

  Michael was silent for a while again, then, “Do you love Billy?”

  Skyler looked surprised at the question. “I don’t know if love can be equated to someone like Billy. That would be like saying you love the tidal wave that destroyed your house but spared your car. She’s kind of overwhelming.”

  “Wow…” Michael said, amazed. “Do you still love Mom?”

  “I tell you what I hate,” Skyler said, giving his son a long look. “I hate playing twenty questions.”

  “Okay.” Michael held up his hand. “Just answer me this. If you had a chance to get back together with Mom, would you do it, or stay with Billy?”

  “First of all, I don’t think getting back together with your mom is really an option. We enjoyed each other’s company one night—that doesn’t make a reconciliation, Michael. There’s a lot of water under that bridge. And as for Billy, I don’t know that I’m ‘with’ her. She’s got a lot of problems to work out, and I’m trying to help her because I feel partially responsible for them. Okay?”

  “Does she love you?” Michael asked, going straight to the heart of the matter.

  “I don’t think Billy knows how she feels about anything right now,” Skyler said noncommittally. She had said she loved him the night she’d tried to kill herself, but she had been talking about the past.

  Michael nodded, not understanding fully but aware that his father didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  Skyler went to bed early that night and was awoken at 10:30 p.m. when the phone next to the bed rang. He reached over groggily to pick it up.

  “Hello?” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep.

  “Skyler?” Billy said hesitantly.

  “Billy, hi.” He smiled as he reached up to rub his eyes so he could actually open them. “How’s it going?”

  “Were you asleep?” she asked, sounding different somehow.

  “Yeah, but I’m up now,” Skyler said softly.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you—I’ll just call back,” she said, obviously about to hang up.

  “Billy! Wait!” Skyler was surprised by her mood. “Tell me how you are.” His tone was beseeching now; this was the first time he’d heard from her in the three days she’d been at the center.

  “I’m okay,” she said, and Skyler could almost feel her shrug.

  “Okay? Baby, talk to me.”

  “I’ll call back, Skyler. I just… I’ll call back, okay?” she said, sounding very distant.

  “Well… okay, I guess. Are you really okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Billy said, all business. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” And to his surprise, she hung up.

  Skyler lay back, closing his eyes. He opened them a moment later and picked up the phone. He called the center and verified that she was still there. It had occurred to him that she could have taken off, and that she’d been calling from somewhere else. He was told Ms. Montague was indeed still at the center.

  “I’m glad you called, Mr. Kristiani,” the nurse said. “We’ve been receiving irate calls from a Mr. Rothe. He keeps insisting that he speak to Ms. Montague, but we’ve been following procedure and not allowing him access to her. How would you like us to proceed?”

  “Have you told Billy about his calls?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well,” Skyler said, considering the idea, “go ahead and tell her, and let her decide if she wants to take the calls. I do want you to call me if he tries to take her out of the center, or if she tries to leave on her own.”

  “Okay, Mr. Kristiani. I’ve noted it in the computer. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Ms.…”

  “Hannah. Sabrina Hannah, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sabrina.”

  After Skyler hung up, he lay in bed thinking about the strange call from Billy. He didn’t understand her abrupt manner, unless she was mad at him now for taking her to the center. It wasn’t like Billy to keep her mouth shut though—she was the type of woman to scream. Silent rage wasn’t her style.

  ♪ 　Two ♪

  Jerith and Nicolette spent their week in Hawaii with happy abandon. Jerith took her to all the sites on the big island, as well as the important ones on the other islands. They visited Pearl Harbor, which impressed Nicolette a great deal. She’d been very interested in the Second World War in school, and had always wanted to visit what most people considered the reason America had gotten involved in the war. Jerith had watched her as she read every plaque and looked carefully at every artifact and photograph.

  “You really like this stuff, huh?”

  Nicolette glanced up from the photograph she was looking at. “Oh, yeah,” she said, her eyes bright. “I’m always interested in history. I minored in it, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” Jerith said chidingly. “I haven’t known you that long, yet.”

  “Yet, huh?” Nicolette said, grinning.

  Jerith grinned back. “Yeah…”

  Later that evening, they had a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant. Nicolette was tired from all the running around they’d been doing. Jerith watched her from across the table, thinking she looked incredibly beautiful. She was wearing a peach-colored silk dress; it looked amazing against the tan she’d gotten while on the island. She wore her usual light makeup, with a coral-colored lipstick. Her hair was pulled back from her face with coral combs he’d insisted on buying her that day in Honolulu.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?” he asked, smiling at her.

  “A number of times,” Nicolette said, smiling almost shyly at his compliment.

  “Just checking.”

  Later, when he got back to the room, Jerith called to see if anyone in the band had heard from either Billy or Alan Rothe. The drummer, Tommy Scalion, said he’d heard from Alan, and that Alan was all-time pissed off that Billy was in rehab. It wasn’t the fact that she’d started hurting herself that bothered Alan; it was the fact that she was out of touch with him, and that Skyler Kristiani was apparently keeping it that way. Jerith was pleased that Skyler wasn’t allowing Rothe to talk to Billy. He told Tommy to make sure Rothe didn’t get the number to his hotel unless it was an emergency. Tommy told him he’d die before he told Rothe. Jerith thanked the other man and hung up a few minutes later.

  Nicolette was watching him from the bed. She’d kicked off her heels and was sitting with her tanned legs tucked under her. “You don’t want your manager to talk to Billy? Isn’t he supposed to be on your side?”

  Jerith nodded with a grimace. “The key words there are ‘supposed to be.’ Alan’s a little tightly wound, and he doesn’t like to be out of control of any situation. Frankly, he’s a bit of a pain most of the time.”

  “Then why is he your manager?” Nicolette asked as Jerith sat on the end of the bed. She moved to sit behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders. She felt the tenseness in his muscles and automatically started to massage them.

  Jerith closed his eyes as he felt her hands move to smooth his knotted muscles. “He’s our manager because he’s good at what he does. But he has no concept of good and bad sometimes.”

  “What does that mean?” Nicolette asked as she concentrated on his back, surprised at how tense he was.

  Jerith sighed. “It means that he thinks Billy’s ‘problem’ is great for publicity. Like her arrest—he’d think that was great for the band.”

  “Why?” Nicolette sounded shocked.

  “The band has kind of a cult following, and he’d think that if the kids knew Billy had faults too, it would make us more popular.” He shrugged. “Who knows. He’d find a way to use it though, but I don’t want her weaknesses exploited lik
e that.”

  Nicolette put her arms around his waist and pressed her lips to the back of his neck. “Have I told you what a great guy you are?” she said, in the same tone he’d used at dinner earlier.

  “Yeah,” he said, grinning as he slid his hands along her arms. “But you can tell me again, if you want to.”

  She spread her hands over his chest, resting her cheek against his back. “You are a really great guy, Jerith Kid Michaels,” she said sincerely.

  “I’m kind of fond of you too, Ms. Harris.” Jerith covered her hands with his own. They sat that way for a long time, feeling close and not willing to break the connection.

  Finally Jerith turned around to face her. He reached up and removed the combs holding her hair. She reached up automatically to smooth her hair back; his finger under her chin stopped her. “Don’t,” he said softly, staring down into her eyes. “I like it looking a little tousled. Makes you more real.”

  “Compared to plastic and paint?” she said, staring back into his eyes, one eyebrow raised sardonically.

  “Hardly.” Jerith smiled at her use of his term. “Just not so controlled and orderly.”

  “You don’t like controlled and orderly?” she asked softly, feeling deeply affected by his closeness and surprised that he still aroused her this way.

  “There’s a time and a place for controlled and orderly.” He pushed her back on the bed and propped himself up with one elbow, his face inches from hers. “And on vacation with me isn’t it.”

  “I see, Mr. Michaels. And how would you prefer me to be?”

  “Wild and crazy would probably push you over the edge. How ’bout just wild?” he said suggestively, his grin wide.