THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

lives? Had she stepped right back into the fire? Her head hurt from so many conflicting thoughts.
    Who was the real Zane Black?
    She sifted through everything she knew about Zane and could put her finger on a couple of odd coincidences, but nothing of significance. He had an edgy, dangerous side, but that could be attributed to his protective nature mixed with a military background. He watched over his sister, worked hard at whatever he did, and had shown Angel an unprecedented kindness.
    Her conscience took issue with the direction of her thinking.
    He’d told her that he couldn’t abide drugs, so he couldn’t be involved with drugs. How could she fault a man who’d opened his home to a woman he knew absolutely nothing about? His elusiveness about his schedule might be little more than reluctance to trust an alcoholic sister with sensitive business information.
    Angel felt she owed it to Zane to speak up on his behalf. She knew that Trish was completely loyal to Zane, but he wouldn’t want his sister worrying. “From what I’ve seen, he’s doing a great job of building Black Jack Airlines. Look at today. He’s flying on a holiday weekend.”
    “My point exactly. Who needs something flown at the last minute on a holiday weekend that’s not a medical emergency?” Trish shrugged again. Preoccupied with the squiggles and boxes she was drawing, she mumbled, “I don’t know. You have to be around for a while to see it the way I do, but it doesn’t matter. He’s the best man to ever come out of the Jackson bloodline.
    “Jackson bloodline?” Angel queried. “Who’s that?”
    “Us.”  Trish slowly lowered her mug and stared.
    “Are you saying Zane’s last name is not Black?”  Angel’s temple pounded. She waited to hear a simple explanation, that Black was a middle name or a nickname or Zane had changed his name.
    “Ah, I see what happened.”  Trish visibly relaxed, then continued, “You misunderstood. The name of his company is Black Jack.”
    Angel hadn’t misunderstood. Zane had introduced himself as Zane Black. She remained silent while Trish mused in a curious tone.
    “I suppose Jack is short for Jackson or maybe he named the business Black Jack because he’s always been good at cards. He never said why he named it that, but I didn’t ask.”  She took a sip from her mug and grinned, Zane’s grin. “Anyhow, now you know. Our last name is Jackson, but if you called him Zane Black in front of someone he wouldn’t have corrected you. He’s too nice to embarrass you.”
    Too nice or too sly. Which was the apt description?
    Angel fought the urge to pound on the counter top.
    He’d misled her from the beginning.
    Why would he use an alias last name? Her heart started beating double time. She began to understand why Trish interpreted her brother’s activities as mysterious.
    That’s because Trish would never make the leap to think of her brother as a true criminal. Not that Angel could blame her because she couldn’t think of Zane that way either.
    She’d heard enough. Curiosity would serve no purpose but to waste time and right now it was time to go. The minute Angel pushed Trish out the door, she was gone, too.
    But she had to get Trish out of here first. Zane might have dark secrets, but he cared about his sister and had trusted Angel to make sure Trish was passed off safely to Heidi.
    A whine from the laundry room announced the spin cycle on the washing machine. Trish had changed to fresh clothes from the ones stored in Zane’s closet, opting to wash the smelly ones from the night before while she waited on Heidi.
    Thunder rumbled, and rain didn’t sound as though it would let up anytime soon.
    Snagging the receiver from the wall phone, Trish switched topics as she dialed with more vigor than before. “Heidi should be home with this crummy weather. Wish she’d left the answering machine on. I’d take the bus, but I left my pass somewhere.”
    If Heidi showed up soon, Angel might leave with them after all. First she’d have to come up with a viable reason for wanting to be taken to the beach and dropped near the marina. No one would believe she wanted to go for a run in this downpour.
    She could barely hear herself think over the noise of the rain pounding the building.
    “Still can’t find her,” Trish complained, hanging up the phone.
    Angel wished she had enough money to offer Trish bus fare, but she’d need every penny of her pitiful resources once she found the