She glanced up at Chase. “I’m not the least surprised at whatyoudo for a living. Michael always said law enforcement was in your blood.”
Chase’s wealthy father, Bass Garrett, had married down, or so it was said—an Irishwoman named Margaret Devlin, a beautiful dark-haired, blue-eyed secretary in his office.
When they’d divorced years later, Maggie had taken Chase and Brandon to live with her while Reese had remained with his dad. According to Michael, Maggie Devlin Garrett was close to her family, many of whom had law enforcement backgrounds. Police work, in some form or other, was all Chase had ever wanted to do.
Even after Bass died and Chase inherited a third of the family fortune, that hadn’t changed.
“I remember Michael telling me your grandfather was a sheriff.”
“That’s right. Sam Devlin was sheriff of Titus County for fifteen years.” He settled back in his seat. “I guess you could say I’ve found my calling. I’m good at what I do, and I like the challenge. I like making sure people have the kind of protection they need, or helping them get justice.”
Harper just hoped Chase would be able to help her find her brother.
She went back to her drawing, but every once in a while she could feel those penetrating golden-brown eyes on her. Just sitting this close made her stomach quiver.
She was glad he didn’t find her attractive. Chase was a definite temptation, the first man to make her think of sex in months. She was too busy to date very often, and she wasn’t the type for one-night hookups. She hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since she had broken up with Stephen Larsen last year, well before she had moved to Dallas.
She hadn’t really missed the sex. She told herself it was just that she hadn’t met the right guy, but she had heard what people said about her. She had a reputation for being cold and unresponsive.
She almost believed it. Except that when she looked at Chase Garrett, she felt warm all over. Last night she had dreamed about him. She remembered the way he had kissed her in the dream, the feel of his mouth on her breasts, and her skin flushed.
It was a fantasy, she reminded herself, though even now she felt a tug low in her belly.
Harper forced herself to ignore him, pretend he wasn’t sitting right beside her and was finally able to concentrate on her work.
But it wasn’t that easy to do.
Chapter Five
Chase pulled his MacBook out of his carry-on, opened it and went to work. He’d spent yesterday afternoon and most of the night digging up information on Michael Winston and setting up contacts he might need in Aruba.
According to everything he’d read, Michael had done exactly what his sister claimed, rebuilt his life. He was the owner of BUZZ, a successful tech solutions company that dealt in problem solving and computer programming. A happy-faced, buzzing bee was the company logo.
As Chase thought back on it, Michael had always been fascinated with anything digital, from cell phones to computer games. As he read articles describing Michael’s successes, something loosened in his chest.
He’d never really stopped caring about his friend, never completely given up on him. It felt good to know Michael had finally been able to overcome his demons.
Which meant his sister might be right and something bad actually had happened to him.
Where are you, Mikey?It was the nickname Michael had acquired as a kid, one Chase hadn’t used in years. Not since the last time he had found his friend passed out in his apartment, overdosed on heroin—for the third time in six months. The wild ride to the hospital had saved Michael’s life but ended their friendship.
Chase couldn’t deal with it any longer. It was just too painful to watch a man who meant so much to him destroy himself. In a way it had destroyed Chase, too.
After that night at the hospital, Chase had finally come to believe the only person who could save Michael Winston was himself. According to Harper, that had happened. Chase could only hope it was true.
Chase spent the next hour digging around on the internet: Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, all Michael’s social media connections. His last Facebook post was a week ago, photos of a trim, athletic-looking, brown-haired man, lightly muscled, tanned and smiling. Nothing since then and nothing that hinted at any reason for him to disappear.
It was too soon to think about the yacht going down. As Harper had said, Michael was an expert sailor, and she had alerted the authorities to be on the lookout for the boat. In that regard, at the moment, there was nothing else they could do.
Chase turned to Harper. “What about enemies?” The words interrupted the quiet hum of the engines. “Anyone you can think of who might want to do your brother harm?”
She shook her head. “Everyone loves Michael. You know how he is. People are just naturally drawn to him.”
He remembered the popular young man Michael had been, outgoing and always smiling. Though both of them were from Dallas, they hadn’t met until college. Determined to compete with the Garrett family money, Knox had sent his son to Yale, where Chase was enrolled. He hadn’t expected Michael and Chase to become best friends.
Michael had been a happy kid back then—before his mother’s suicide and his father’s constant verbal abuse had begun to whittle away his confidence.
“You said he texted or emailed as often as he could.”
