“No problem,” he said. Though she could see the family resemblance, the two looked completely different, Edge with his black hair, high cheekbones, leaner face, and blade of a nose. There was a cynical twist to his lips that was missing from Gage’s features.
Edge was hard, dark, and, in a different way, every bit as handsome as Gage. Still, it was the older brother who drew her. Gage was the man to whom she felt connected, had since her grandfather had first mentioned his name and Abby had seen an internet photo of him on a trip to Africa.
“You finished packing?” he asked.
“I’m ready to go. I didn’t have much that would work.”
“We’ll buy the rest when we get there.”
Returning to her room, she made a final check, grabbed her laptop, and slung it over her shoulder, along with her camera. Her backup camera, a Canon Powershot Elph 190, which took surprisingly good photos as well as decent video, was packed in her carry-on. Abby grabbed the handle and wheeled it into the living room.
Gage was there, with a bigger wheeled bag and a black canvas satchel. Edge grabbed the satchel, hoisted it over one broad shoulder, and they headed out, taking the elevator this time instead of the stairs.
Edge loaded her carry-on into the back of the Land Rover next to Gage’s big bag, tossed in the satchel, then helped load the rest of the gear.
“I’ll follow you,” Edge said. “Make sure no one else does.”
Abby climbed into the passenger seat, and Gage backed the Rover out of the garage.
“Which airport?” she asked.
“Rocky Mountain Metro. It’s less than twenty miles from here. We’ve got a Bonanza A36 flying us down, good little airplane for a relatively short trip like this.”
Gage drove out of the alley and turned onto the street. A black Nissan sports car pulled in behind them. Abby recognized the black-haired man behind the wheel.
“Wow, that car your brother’s driving is hot.”
“He just got it. Now that he’s out of the army, he’s living out his fantasies.”
“So I guess he wanted to be a race car driver.”
Gage grinned. “Or an outlaw.”
Gage turned the corner and gunned the engine. The Rover tore down the block, shot through a busy intersection, and roared around a corner.
“If they’re out there,” Gage said, “I’m not making it easy for them.” He slowed to round a curve, then jammed his foot on the gas pedal again. The black Nissan dropped back a few cars but stayed right with them.
Abby flipped down her sun visor to watch behind them in the mirror, saw another car appear three vehicles back.
“There’s a car back there that seems to be staying right with us. But it’s not a dark gray or black SUV. It’s a sedan, and it’s silver.” She turned to look out the back window. “It just pulled in behind us about three cars back.” Her pulse speeded along with the engine. “Maybe the men from last night changed cars so we wouldn’t recognize them.”
“Edge knows what happened. He’ll be watching for anyone who might be following us, no matter what vehicle they’re driving.”
In the mirror, she saw Edge’s Nissan pull up beside the silver sedan, then cut in front of the car and slow, forcing the sedan to slam on its brakes. At the same time, Gage hit the gas and the Rover leaped forward. The Rover careened around a corner, then roared into an alley, raced out the other end, continued down a parallel track for a mile or so, then finally skidded back onto the road.
Abby’s heart was pounding, her fingers digging into the leather seats. They were halfway to the airport when Edge’s black Nissan caught up with them again.
“Edge is back,” Abby said.
“He’s lost them. He knows where we’re going. He’ll keep watch until we get there.”
“Seems like a handy guy to know.”
The corners of Gage’s mouth faintly curved. “You have no idea.”
CHAPTER TEN
A SINGLE ENGINE BEECHCRAFT BONANZA WAITED ON THE TARMAC. Gage drove out to the plane and dumped the gear, then parked the Rover between two cars in an out-of-the-way space at the back of the parking lot.
They wouldn’t be gone more than a week, less if the trip turned out to be a wild goose chase—or if by some miracle they found the spot King had marked on the map. In which case they would be making a second trip for an in-depth search of the area.
He checked in at the terminal desk, and they made their way outside to board the plane. The pilot was a guy in his forties named Christopher Conners. Good solid guy, competent pilot. Gage had flown with him before.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Logan,” the pilot said, sunlight glinting off the silver in his dark hair.
“Let’s skip the formalities, Chris. It’s just Gage and Abby.”
Chris smiled. “Great. I’ve got all your bags loaded. If you’re ready, you can go ahead and board. I’ll make my final exterior inspection and get her ready for takeoff.”
Gage helped Abby into the plane through the double cargo doors that were a nice feature of the A36. The tan leather interior was arranged club-seating style, so Gage sat down across from her, giving them both more room.
He clicked on his seat belt as the pilot strapped himself in and began his preflight check. The engines fired, and in minutes, the plane was taxiing down the runway, then lifting into the air.
It was a mild day in the Rockies, with only a few white cumulus clouds in the distance, which made for mostly smooth air. Gage folded down the table so he and Abby could work.
For the past few days, he’d been researching the history and legends surrounding the infamous gold mine in the Superstitions, as well as the Peralta family, who had originally found it, at least according to the legends.
He’d studied past efforts to find the lost mine, read searches documented in journals and books, and tales passed down over the years. No way to know exactly which stories were true, but it was important to have as much background information as possible. He knew Abby had done similar research before she’d walked into his office.
He allowed himself a moment to study her as she stared out the window. She seemed fascinated by the colors and patchwork shapes of the land below, the shadow of the plane moving over the landscape. She wanted to see things, learn things.
She was a seeker of knowledge, same as he was. She was fiery and independent, and he was drawn to her more every day.
He settled back in his seat. He couldn’t have her. Not now. Not until this was over. Once he did, his constant thoughts of her would end, and she’d be just another memory, something he could file away to take out and savor through the years.
He watched the play of sunlight through the window, setting her burnished hair ablaze. Her sweater outlined her tempting breasts, and his palms itched to cup them.
Not yet, he told himself. He was a patient man, or at least he could be when there was something worth waiting for. Gage had a feeling Abby Holland was a memory worth the wait.
They’d been in the air less than three hours when the plane began its descent into the Scottsdale Airport. Maggie had a rental car, a big white Ford Explorer, waiting at the terminal to carry them to Apache Junction. Though Gage was anxious to get underway, Abby insisted on taking photos of the plane, Gage standing next to it, and pictures of the airport terminal.