Touch of Betrayal, A Read Online Free PDF Page B

tears away. Missing him left an ache in my chest.
    I worried my bottom lip, trying to decide if I should jump right in and attack the lock on the cockpit door, or if I should run my fingers over the rest of the plane first.
    Fingers won. I wanted privacy to do my sleuthing, and Nameless or Pierce could wander through the door any minute looking for more coffee or food. Maybe they had some of those microwaveable meal packs in the galley. Surely neither of them was going to cook.
    First step: explore the kitchen area. Hopefully, I’d learn more about the DB who used to be a living, breathing spy until she set foot on my property and started collecting flora specimens. Like Millie had been, according to my earlier ESP images.
    Heading back to the galley with new purpose, I clenched and flexed my fingers rhythmically. A bit of warm-up for the task ahead. A systematic approach would ensure I didn’t miss anything important. The rear wall of the kitchen was an emergency exit, just like in a commercial plane. I kept my touch light, because I didn’t want to accidently bump into anything that might set off an alarm.
    Images of Nameless flashed through my fingertips, checking and re-checking the lock system. That was good news, unless there had been a glitch and he wanted to be sure it worked right. At least I was reassured that it would open should I have the opportunity to exit galley-door-left.
    I moved to the above-counter cupboards, running my hands over the outer surfaces, then inside. A lot of pictures showed up, but most of them were blurry and didn’t hold enough promise for me to try and push deeper into the energy—until I touched the microwave. I bumped into a private moment between Pierce and the female spy, before she became a corpse, of course.
    It was a kiss. Only not like the ones he used to share with me before Mitch proposed. No, this was warm, more than friendly, but it wasn’t hot. It was nice. When Pierce had kissed me—way back when—I’d never have described it with a mundane word like nice. Toe-curling, heart-thumping, how-fast-can-I-get-your-clothes-off would have been a more accurate description—not that I ever did so much as unbutton his shirt, much less jump his bones. There had always been Mitch, and he came first. He was my rock, and the safe home for my heart to give and accept love. If I hadn’t fallen for Mitch first, well, things might have been different, but I’d never know for sure. And that was…okay.
    So, what was with this kiss between Pierce and the woman who’d been stalking my property? Friendship? Respect? Lust? Yeah, that fit. And his eyes had darkened with sadness and resignation when I told him who the DB was. And underneath, there was a flash of temper that burned hot.
    I had an irrational dislike of this woman with the dimples, and not just because she turned up dead on my property. I wrapped my arms around myself and ran a video of my stored images. Tripping on her hand had been a shock, but under that I was sad. When she stalked my gardens and took samples of the plants, that’s when my anger flared. Okay. Not irrational, then. She had been on my property, and was basically stealing. Yeah. That didn’t sit well with me at all.
    I finished checking out the galley without discovering any more interesting revelations. Working my way through the cabin area, I skimmed my fingers over the surfaces of the chairs and tables, but there were only faded images, nothing to sink my spidey senses into. Until I faced a closed door at the rear of the cabin, and wrapped my hand around the doorknob.
    I’d prepared. Figured it was probably a bedroom, and there might be some x-rated pics of Pierce and Miz Stalker. Just friends or not, the man came with hefty dose of testosterone and magically skilled hands. Plus they were stuck together, forty-two thousand feet in the air, in a contained space without much to do, large screen television aside. And didn’t super-spies live on the edge,