Twisted Shadows by Patricia; Potter

waiting in front of empty conveyors, she was grateful she had managed to get everything into her carry-on. She didn’t plan to stay long. She had a life to return to.
    Something made her turn. She caught a glimpse of the man who had been talking to the airline employee. He was coming toward her, not stopping at luggage claim, all that energy she’d sensed now concentrated on her.
    Then she saw two other men approaching her. They had no luggage. No briefcases. Their gaze was focused on her, too, and they had the same look as the men who had entered her shop days ago and turned her world upside down. Only neither one was Tommy, and she sensed malevolence in their movements.
    She looked toward the door. People out there were waiting for pickups or for buses. Where was the taxi line? There shouldn’t be much of a line at this time of night. For a split second she searched for the first man … the tired one with the arresting eyes. She caught sight of him again and had the strongest urge to run toward him, to ask for help.
    But he was taking a diagonal path in front of the other two men, as if to cut them off. As if he’d known she needed help.
    Her imagination again. Whatever the reason, she sent him a silent thank-you he could neither hear nor see and continued toward the door … and escape.
    She spurted forward, no longer rolling her luggage but holding it, ready to use it as a weapon. She looked for police, for someone in uniform. There was no one. She could yell at tired passengers waiting for luggage, but she had no proof of impending trouble.
    Just the feeling of being stalked and hunted.
    Fear had never ruled her before. Now it did.
    She heard a shout. “Stop!”
    Then she pushed the door open and rushed outside. With a quick glance back, she saw the sandy-haired man cut off one of the two men who had so disquieted her, blocking his way. The other one was looking around, then homed in on her and headed in her direction. There was no mistaking his intent now.
    She bumped someone. A policeman.
    Thank God.
    He looked down at her. “Is there a problem, miss?”
    She didn’t know what to say. I belong to the Merritta family and I think someone is chasing me . Not likely. What if the men had been sent to protect her? What if news got out and destroyed her mother? What if no one was following her at all? Maybe she had just become paranoid.
    â€œI thought someone was following me,” she said, looking back now that she felt safer.
    A shout from inside made the officer look that way, then at her. She saw a line of taxicabs just ahead and nearly crumpled with relief. She had to get away from here. “I’m all right,” she assured the policeman. “It’s been a long day.” Smiling, she backed away and stepped toward the nearest cab, all but lunging inside.
    â€œI have to wait—” the driver said.
    She reached in her purse and grabbed a fifty, handing it to him. “Please.”
    He turned to look at her for a moment that seemed an eternity. Then he pulled away from the curb and sped off.
    Nathan McLean swore long and hard.
    He shouldn’t have waited. But he hadn’t been sure that the tall, dark-haired woman was the one he sought, especially not after another passenger put his arm around her. They had looked as if they were traveling together, the man following her off the plane.
    Then her companion had leaned over and whispered in her ear and she’d stalked off.
    Despite that odd second of attraction that flashed between them, he had no interest in getting involved in a lovers’ spat. He studied the other passengers. At least he had the passenger manifest and phone numbers where passengers could be reached in case of flight changes.
    He damned his inability to obtain a photo. He’d had several people working on the case, going back and checking all the information they had on Tracy Merritta. They’d located one relative—a