By Hook or By Crook by Linda Morris Page B

leg-baring gray dress, all the same. Did the skin behind her knees still sparkle under the utilitarian pants she was wearing now? The thought made his voice feel rusty again.
    He cleared his throat. “I got a call from Sheila. They used Daisy’s card at a gas station in Indian Springs.” At her bemused look, he explained, “It’s about an hour, hour and a half north of Vegas.”
    Discovering that Daisy’s credit card had been used eased Joe’s mind a little. He’d wondered if they’d been the victims of a crime. If they’d been using their own credit card, they were probably okay, although the possibility still remained that someone else had stolen and used the card.
    “Daisy’s still not answering her phone.” Ivy paced to the window and then back again to perch on the edge of the bed. “That worries me.”
    “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She may just still be mad at you, or she may be out of range in the mountains.”
    “Do you think we can catch them?” Ivy asked. “I can contact Dad and tell him to have the pilot draw up a flight plan to Indian Springs. Do you think there’s an airfield there?”
    Now they had a clue about where Daisy and Pock might be, Ivy stalked the room like a fierce cat, intent on her target.
    “No.” Joe instinctively refused. Something inside him chafed at the way Ivy always wanted to turn to her father for help—but he had other reasons, too. “They’ve got a head start on us,” he pointed out. “If we get there and they’ve already moved on, we’ll be stuck until they use their credit card again. And who knows where or when that will be, or if we’ll be able to reach it by air. Being at the mercy of the storm complicates everything. I’ve called for a rental car. The agency is dropping it off in ten minutes.”
    “At the mercy of what storm?”
    He nodded at the TV in the corner, tuned to the live weather forecast. “Western Nevada is due for a heavy snowfall, probably within ten or twelve hours. In the Sierra Nevadas, a snowstorm can turn shitty fast.”
    “But we don’t know that Daisy and Pock are headed for the mountains.”
    “There isn’t a whole hell of a lot in western Nevada besides mountains and desert. They could be headed to Reno, I guess, but that’ll still take us into the foothills.”
    “God knows Daisy would never have thought to check the weather report ahead of time,” Ivy said, brow furrowing. “Neither would I,” she admitted.
    She half intended that as an apology, he suspected. He took it gracefully, not rubbing it in. “It’s my job to be prepared for eventualities.” He clicked the TV off. “We’re going to be cutting it close as it is. I don’t know where they’re heading, but it’s going to be dicey to catch up to them and get off the roads before the storm hits. Snow in the mountains is nothing to screw around with. If you don’t want to come, tell me now.”
    “I’m coming with you.” She didn’t hesitate, and he admired her for it.
    “Are you sure?” His eyebrows lifted. “I can drop you off at the airfield and you can fly home if you want. Hell, you could even extend your stay at the Bellisimo. Learn how to play blackjack or something, or visit the spa. I’ll check in with you after I find Daisy and Pock.”
    Ivy stopped her pacing long enough to glare at him, arms crossed. “No. I’m coming along. She’s my sister. You think I could relax and get a hot stone massage while my sister might be in danger?”
    After a moment, Joe nodded. His suggestion had been a test, and she’d passed. He respected her a bit more for being willing to take the risk. She might be an uptight, snooty, meddling busybody, but she loved her sister enough to venture out into the mountains with a storm threatening, putting herself in danger. Smithson paid him well to take these kinds of risks, but Ivy did it out of love for her sister.
    He had to wonder what it must be like to have someone love you that much. He doubted