"I just want to keep from crashing into into the horizon." the horizon."

"Not a problem. Just settle back and enjoy the ride."

"Which was exactly what I was doing before you put this thing on red alert."

"Yeah. It really got the old blood rushing, didn't it?"

There was nothing about this woman that didn't get his blood rushing. Absolutely nothing.

But now, in the aftermath of adrenaline shooting through every molecule in his body, he'd relaxed into a pleasant kind of state where his awareness felt heightened-colors seemed brighter, sounds sharper, and he swore he could smell the peach shampoo that Lisa had used this morning drifting across the c.o.c.kpit. In the past couple of days, in spite of everything that had happened, or maybe because of it, he felt more alive than he had in a very long time.

"So do you do that to the doctors you fly into Santa Rios?"

"No. I figured if I scared the h.e.l.l out of them they might not come back."

"So what led you to fly for a humanitarian organization, anyway?"

"Adam was the one who recruited me. He was my gynecologist, and he hit me up during my annual exam. He told me it wasn't often he got a woman with a pilot's license in a compromising position, one who just might be crazy enough to fly a handful of doctors seven hundred miles into the middle of nowhere. I thanked him for the left-handed compliment and started to get up. He grabbed my feet and told me he wasn't going to let me out of the stirrups until I said yes."

Dave grinned. "I thought I had power as a cop. Maybe I need to consider gynecology."

She smiled. "You know, I might not have let any other man live long enough to get those words out of his mouth. But Adam . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know. There was something about him. I'd always thought that all doctors were egotistical sn.o.bs, but I liked him from the beginning. These days most women would rather go to a woman gynecologist, which has hurt some of the male ones. But Adam had patients lined up around the block. And you should have seen him at the clinic. His patients loved him, and little kids hung on him like fleas on a dog." She paused. "Listen to me," she said quietly. "I'm talking about him in the past tense."

"We don't know for sure that he's dead, Lisa. We don't know what happened to him."

"Yes, we do," she said. "Robert got to him. I know he did. But I don't know how he could hurt Adam. He's one of the few people I've ever met who was really good at heart, and that b.a.s.t.a.r.d b.a.s.t.a.r.d killed him. Just like he tried to kill me." killed him. Just like he tried to kill me."

"Adam must have really been a good friend."

She glanced at him, and he was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. "The truth? Maybe my best friend."

Her best friend? He knew she was worried about Adam but didn't realize just how far that concern went. "You didn't tell me you were so close to him."

She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "I know."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," she said helplessly. "I just . . . I guess I was afraid of this."

"Of what?"

"Falling apart." She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. "I can't do this," she said, tightening her grip on the yoke. "I've got a plane to fly here."

"You and Adam," Dave said. "Were you ever . . . ?"

She glanced at him as if she didn't understand, then shook her head. "N-no. It was nothing like that. It was just . . . he was like a brother, I guess. Or how a brother should be."

"Almost like family."

"Yeah. He was. I even spent a couple of holidays with him and his sister's family in San Antonio. They were such nice people." Her eyes dropped closed. "Oh, G.o.d. I can only imagine how his sister feels right now. And she thinks he died in an accident. She needs to know the truth about that. But I guess I'm not sure exactly what the truth is."

Dave reached across the tiny c.o.c.kpit and took Lisa's hand in his. She clung to it tightly.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm doing this," she said.

"Because he was someone you cared about."

Lisa closed her eyes, her jaw tight, and he could tell she was trying desperately not to cry.

"You okay?"

"Yes. Of course."

Closing her eyes, she drew herself up with a deep breath, then slowly let it out. When she opened her eyes again, her tears were under control.

"It's just a fact of life I need to accept," she told Dave, slipping her hand away from his. "People come. People go."

"Don't make light of it. You loved him."

"Yes, and sometimes I think it's just not worth it."

"Would you have traded not knowing him just to spare yourself the heartbreak of losing him?"

"I don't know. I only know how I feel now." She turned to him. "Is it worth loving somebody, even if he can be ripped away from you in the blink of an eye?"

"Yes. Of course it is."

"So is that how you felt when Carla was killed?"

Dave physically recoiled at the mention of Carla's name. "I felt a lot of things when Carla was killed. And I don't want to talk about any of it."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what you told me last night."

He felt her gaze on him, and suddenly the c.o.c.kpit of this plane felt way too small.

"You must have loved her a lot," Lisa said.

Dave's jaw tightened involuntarily. "Of course I did."

"Everyone said you were the perfect couple." She paused. "I remember being so jealous of her in high school."

"You? Jealous of Carla?"

"Of course. Everybody liked her. She was pretty. She was popular. All the guys wanted girls like her." She paused. "Including you."

He stared out the windshield, his heart beating wildly, memories flooding inside him that he wished would disappear forever. "Sometimes things aren't always what they seem to be."

She gave him a sideways glance, and he could see the questioning look on her face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Carla and I had our problems just like everyone else."

"Like what?"

He was silent.

"You don't want to talk about it."

Yes. He did. He wanted to tell her everything about their marriage. All of it. But most of all, he wanted to tell her about the night Carla died-what he'd thought, how he'd felt, every dark, horrible detail. G.o.d, he wanted to shout shout it. But he'd never voiced any of that. Not once. To anyone. How was he supposed to explain something that he could barely acknowledge even to himself? it. But he'd never voiced any of that. Not once. To anyone. How was he supposed to explain something that he could barely acknowledge even to himself?

"Never mind," Lisa said, turning away. "It's just as well. It's really none of my business."

"Lisa-"

"No. Really. I mean, who am I, anyway? Somebody who popped into your life for a few days and is going to be popping right back out of it? Why would you want to spill your guts to me?"

"That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

What was it? Maybe it was the fact that she had no idea who she was talking to. Her image of him was so skewed that she'd probably never believe the truth. But she wasn't the only one. His friends, his family, his coworkers-not one of them understood what was inside his head. Not one.

"You think I'm a pretty nice guy, don't you?"

Lisa shrugged. "Of course you are."

"Think again."

She looked at him with surprise. "Sorry. You've lost me."

"A few days ago on the job," he said, "do you know what I did?"

"What?"

He stared straight ahead. "There was a guy sitting on a highway overpa.s.s, threatening to commit suicide. I asked him what the h.e.l.l he thought he was doing sitting on that G.o.dd.a.m.ned bridge, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up traffic and making life h.e.l.l for half the cops and paramedics in the city." He paused. "Then I told him to go ahead and jump."

Lisa turned to him, blinking with surprise. "You what?"

"You heard me. I said every word of that, and more. At that moment, I didn't give a good G.o.dd.a.m.n if that man lived or died." He turned to her. "So what do you think of me now? Am I still Mr. Nice Guy?"

He could tell she was stunned, but she held her gaze steady. "Why did you say those things?"

"Because I can't stand dealing with helpless, needy people looking for attention who expect me to solve all their problems. That's why."

"You solved mine. How do you feel about that?"

The difference was so radical that he couldn't believe she was even asking that question. He saw nothing but a tremendously capable woman who had a setback but leapt right back on her feet the moment he gave her a hand up.

"You're not helpless and needy," he told her.

"I was two nights ago."

"Temporary situation. Big difference."

"How do you know the guy on the bridge wasn't going through a temporary situation?"

"I know. Believe me."

"Yeah. I guess you've seen a lot of that as a cop. So what happened? Was the guy okay?"

"Yeah. I pulled him back."

"Did he really want to kill himself?"

"Probably not."

"You've got years of experience. You knew that guy wasn't really going to do it. And you've had years of frustration, too, I'm sure, so you blew off a little steam. Quit beating yourself up about it."

"It was more than blowing off a little steam."

"Sorry. I'm going to need a little more convincing than that. Anyone who drops everything and travels seven hundred miles into the middle of nowhere to help me makes it to the top of my Nice Guy list every time."

If only she knew. If only she knew that what happened on that bridge was only a symptom of what had been eating away at him for the past four years.

No. Not four years.

Eleven years.

"d.a.m.n," Lisa said, checking her watch. "I've got to radio U.S. Customs and let them know we're coming into the country, or I could get hit with a h.e.l.l of a fine."

"You have to do that?"

"It's protocol. But it means that the customs officers will be there shortly after we land."

Good. And that was exactly what they wanted. The drugs were in Lisa's backpack in one of the rear seats of the plane. Dave wanted to have them close at hand to surrender just as soon as the plane landed. After he and Lisa told their story, there was no doubt that an investigation would ensue that would take Robert Douglas down and send him to prison for a very long time.

Thirty minutes later, Dave saw the city of San Antonio stretching out in the distance. Lisa radioed the tower at the commuter airport, and a few minutes later she was bringing the plane in. Dave looked down to realize that he'd grasped his knees so hard his knuckles had turned white.

Lisa turned to him. "Landing make you nervous?"

"Just watch where you're going, okay?"

She laughed softly.

"And none of that stall stuff."

"You sure? I could pull up a little-"

"Lisa!"