Page 53 of The Search

He bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face.

“Nice guy.” Susie Phillips sat in the leather seat, her gaze on Logan at the front of the plane, talking to Boyd Medford. “You’d never know he was some kind of tycoon, would you?”

“Look around.” Sarah’s tone was dry. “I think anyone would be able to hazard a guess by this plane.”

“You know what I mean. He’s pretty down-to-earth. Have you known him long?”

“Not long.”

“Then he must be a good guy to volunteer to do this for us. Particularly after he had that accident.”

“Did he tell you he’d had an accident?”

“No, but it was, wasn’t it?”

Sarah changed the subject. “How’s Dinah been doing?”

“Fine. But she misses the searches. She looks so mournful when I take Donegan here out to my pickup.” She reached down and stroked her German shepherd’s head. “She doesn’t understand that retiring after years of service is a reward, not a punishment.” She glanced at Monty. “I know Monty’s nowhere near that point, but it will be hard for him too. Maybe more than any other dog in the group. You should think about it. You’ll need time to train another dog.”

Sarah didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t imagine working with another dog after all these years, and the thought of Monty growing old hurt her. “There’s plenty of time to think about that.” She rose to her feet. “Logan’s looking a little tired. I think I’ll go see if he needs anything.”

Susie nodded. “Good idea.” She took a paperback book out of her tote. “I’ll see if I can read myself to sleep. It’s going to be a long flight, and I’d love to spend it unconscious.”

“So would I.” Sarah could feel weariness dragging at every muscle as she walked down the aisle, stepping over dogs and carry-on baggage on the way to Logan. She couldn’t wait until she was able to curl up and sleep as the other members of the team were doing. Actually, there was nothing to prevent her. Logan didn’t need her. He could take care of himself.

If he was sensible. But if he’d been sensible, he’d have stretched out on one of the couches when the jet had left Tucson an hour before. Instead, he’d continued talking to Boyd, listening politely and growing more wan and exhausted-looking by the minute.

Men.

Boyd looked up and smiled as she stopped before them. “Hey, Sarah. Pretty nice digs, huh? Remember that cargo plane we hopped to Barat?”

“How could I forget?” She gazed directly at Logan. “You look like death warmed over. Go to bed.”

“In a few minutes. Boyd was just telling me about the rescue operation in Nicaragua.”

“He can tell you when you wake up.” She turned to Boyd. “I’m kicking you out of here. He should have that leg elevated. He probably didn’t tell you he had an operation yesterday.”

“Hell, no.” Boyd stood up. “I’m gone. See you later, Logan.”

Logan nodded and watched Boyd walk down the aisle and settle down by Susie. “You know him well?”

“Years.”

“I thought as much. You can be rude only to very old friends.”

“You’d have been better off if you’d been rude to him. He’s a great guy, but he talks a lot when he’s not on a search.”

“I liked him.” He smiled. “And I’m fully capable of being as rude as you, Sarah. He interested me. He was giving me an insight into your work.”

“And?”

“It was like a glimpse into hell. Intriguing to hear about, but I wouldn’t want to live there.”

“You don’t have to live there. I do.”

“Not unless you—”

“Stop talking. I’m dead tired, and the last thing I wanted was to have to run interference between you and my friends because you were too macho to admit you were in pain. Now, will you go and lie down so that I can get some rest?”