There was a wedge-shaped sweat stain on the front of his tank top. His boots and jeans were dusty. He had left his hard hat outside, but not his sunglasses. He was twirling them by the stem. Rather than looking like an idle, relaxed gesture, it conveyed pent-up frustration. His lips were firmly clamped beneath his mustache.
He hadn’t touched her since that day at the deserted plantation house. Their conversations were kept strictly to business. Nevertheless, what he had said before they parted company was still very much on Jade’s mind. If she doubted the resolution behind his, “No way,” all she had to do was look into his eyes now.
“Did you want to see me about something in particular, Dillon?”
“Yeah, dinner.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dinner. Let’s have dinner.”
“Fine. I’ll call Cathy. I’m sure she won’t mind setting an extra place.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He approached her desk. “Let’s go to dinner together. You and I alone.”
“You mean like a date?”
“Exactly like a date.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Their eyes made sizzling contact.
Jade raised a hand to her throat and fiddled with the broach she had pinned there. He planted his fists, knuckles down, on the edge of her desk and leaned across it. “Well?” he asked crossly. “Is there something wrong with us having dinner together? Or don’t you like it if the man is the one who’s buying?”
She took affront at that. There was a distinct chill in her voice when she said, “I’ll check with Cathy and see which night would be best for her to stay with Graham. Then I’ll—” She broke off and stood up suddenly. “Dillon, is Graham here yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You haven’t seen him?”
“Not today. Not since he got sick, in fact. Were you expecting him?”
She rounded her desk and rushed to the door of the trailer, throwing it open. Loner was dozing in the shade on the step. He raised his head and regarded her indifferently. If Graham were around, no matter how hot it was, Loner would be tagging after him, not napping in the shade. She scanned the immediate area but saw no sign of Graham or his bicycle.
“What time is it?” She was surrounded by clocks and was wearing a wristwatch; her question was reflexive.
“Going on five. Why?”
Sidestepping Dillon, she returned to her desk and picked up the telephone. “It’s been over an hour since Graham called me,” she said as she punched out her home phone number. “He should be here by now.”
“Maybe he didn’t leave right after he called.”
She shook her head. “He was chomping at the bit to get here before the crew knocked off for the day…. Hi, Cathy. Is Graham there?” Hearing the dreaded answer, her fingers tightened around the telephone cord. “Yes, I know he called, but he’s not here yet.”
“What did she say?” Dillon asked when Jade hung up.
“Exactly what I was afraid she would say. He left as soon as he called. Cathy was standing right there. She waved him off. She’s leaving now on her way here to see if she spots him along the way.”
“Maybe one of his friends waylaid him.”
“He’s conscientious. He knew I was expecting him. He would be here… unless something has happened to him.”