was riding in four weeks ago.”
“Wow, your accident wasn’t an accident? That’s not good news.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s not public info, but there’s no way they can keep it quiet for long. I’m planning to do some legwork. I’ll come up with a list of names—passengers and crew, anyone with access to the chopper. I’ll need background info and I’ll need you to go deep. I want to know if I was the target.”
Tabby’s voice tightened. “Get me the names. I’ll get everything you need.”
“Thanks, Tab, I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead and Reese leaned back in his chair. He’d have to find time to go to Houston to start his search. His schedule was packed, so it wouldn’t be easy.
A light knock sounded, then Kenzie opened the door. Her pale scoop-necked sweater hinted at the fullness of her breasts, something he shouldn’t have noticed, but did.
“What did Milburn have to say? Have they found the cause of the crash?”
He didn’t want to worry her, but sooner or later the information was bound to hit the news. He was going to need help with this. He needed Kenzie in the loop.
“Someone tampered with the chopper. The crash was intentional.”
“Oh, my God. Reese, you could have been killed.”
He forced the tight muscles across his shoulders to relax. “The investigation’s ongoing. The FBI is taking over. Eventually, they’ll find whoever’s responsible and arrest them.”
“Eventually? What about in the meantime? What if whoever did it does something like that again?” She began to realize the implications, as he had known she would. “You don’t...you don’t think you were the target?”
“A lot’s been happening. According to Derek Stiles, there have been an inordinate amount of accidents that involve the rig.”
She stiffened. “You need someone to protect you. You have to call your brother.”
“Which one?” he joked. “And the answer is no. I’m not calling either of my brothers. I won’t be cosseted twenty-four hours a day. I am, however, going to find the bastard who crashed the chopper and killed two good men. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
Kenzie just stood there. She handled his schedule, knew about the hours each week he set aside for his martial arts instructor. She had to know he was proficient—more than proficient—in self-defense. She didn’t know about his dark past or his skill with a weapon.
But she should know him well enough to realize he wasn’t going to change his mind.
“All right, then,” she said resignedly. “What can I do to help?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I’ll fill you in as soon as I figure it out.”
“Fair enough.” She took a deep breath, focused back on work. “I assume that means you’ll be carrying on with your schedule for today and this evening.”
“Unless something changes, yes. Remind me...what’s on my calendar for tonight?”
“You have a charity event, the annual Dallas Youth Homes fundraiser. You bought a table for eight that includes your brothers and their wives, Kade Logan, Chase’s friend from Denver, and his date, Marla Steiner.”
“Who am I taking?”
“Andrea Wellington. You mentioned something about meeting her at an event at the governor’s mansion when you asked me to arrange for a limo.”
He remembered now. When he’d called her, he’d already been trying to distance himself from Fiona.
“Follow up. Give her the time the limo will arrive and tell her I look forward to seeing her again.” And he hoped like hell it was true. Hoped an evening with Andrea Wellington would be more appealing than the ones he’d spent with the last few women he’d dated.
“I’ll take care of it.” Kenzie turned and walked out the door and Reese’s gaze followed. Her spine-erect posture should have kept his mind on business, but the sexy sway of her hips sent a rush of heat straight to his groin.
Cursing softly, Reese jerked his thoughts back from where they’d gone and began to formulate a plan that would help him find a killer.
SIX
Kenzie made the phone call, dreading the sound of the woman’s voice. Reese dated the most beautiful women in the world: movie stars, TV personalities, and fashion models, though he seemed to prefer women less interested in the spotlight. Businesswomen, a high school principal, and attorneys like Fiona Cantor had all spent time in his company.
And undoubtedly in his bed.
Though he never dated a woman very long, they usually remained friends and rarely refused to see him again. Perhaps he kept things superficial as a result of his divorce, a