The Color of a Promise (The Color of Heaven Series Book 11) by Julianne MacLean Page A

house do your parents own, if you don’t mind me asking?” I had to get my mind back on track, remember the investigation. “It would help us to know exactly where the camera was filming from, to determine angles, trajectory…”
    “It’s the blue one right behind the Kettle Cove Parking Lot,” he replied. “We’ll fly over it in a few minutes. I’ll show you.”
    “That would be great. Thank you.”
    We sat in silence for a moment, waiting, and I had to work hard not to keep staring at him, which wasn’t easy. He was like some sort of human magnet for my eyes.
    “Do you know anything about the arrival of the families?” I asked.
    It was common practice for the airline to fly victims’ families to the crash location and put them up in a hotel somewhere nearby. Once they arrived, members of our team and other authorities would meet with them for daily briefings—which was never easy.
    “A few are already here,” Jack said. “The rest are on their way.” He shook his head. “It’s going to be difficult for them over the next few weeks, and beyond.”
    “Yes.”
    His eyes turned to me, and I felt like a deer caught in headlights as he studied my expression intently.
    Then he leaned forward to peer out the door, probably looking for the other reporter, who still hadn’t arrived. Jack sat back in his seat. “Mind if I ask how you came into this job?”
    I shifted slightly in the seat. “It may seem a bit strange to you.”
    “Now I’m intrigued.”
    Something stirred in my veins. Maybe it was the way he was looking at me with those penetrating blue eyes.
    I suddenly found myself struggling to keep a cool head when my entire body was responding to the nearness of him. It was as if there were some kind of electric current in the chopper, buzzing all around us. I’d never felt anything quite like it before. But then again, I’d never met anyone so famous.
    Clearing my throat, I tried to get my thoughts in order to form a proper reply. “Well…” I cleared throat again. “I grew up with a terrible fear of flying, from a very young age. I don’t know why. By the time I reached university, I had no choice but to fly back and forth across the country if I wanted to see my boyfriend, who was in medical school at the time. He was in California while I was at Princeton.”
    “What did you study there?” Jack asked.
    “Structural engineering,” I told him, “but even then, I didn’t know this was where I would end up. I thought I’d be building skyscrapers or something. Sometimes I thought I might become an architect and build houses. That was my intention, originally, when I was younger, but then I got sidetracked by aviation.
    “Anyhow, my brother happened to be a pilot, and he took me up in a private plane one summer to try and get me over my phobia. Oddly enough, it worked— eventually —and I ended up becoming a pilot myself. Pure stubbornness, I guess, to conquer that fear. Anyway, in my last year at Princeton, I got a summer job at the Safety Board, and that was that. I was hooked and I knew this was what I needed to do with my life.”
    Jack nodded. “What happened to the boyfriend?”
    I laughed nervously. “We’re still together, though we live in different cities. We don’t see each other all that often, but it works because we’re both addicted to our jobs and we work a lot of hours. He’s a surgeon now, and I do a lot of traveling.”
    Jack was still watching me with interest, and I felt an inexplicable urge to explain further, even though I knew I was starting to ramble.
    I waved my hand through the air. “A situation like this could mean we’re away from home, living in hotels for weeks at a time, maybe months. Even when I’m back in the office, I practically eat, live and breathe whatever investigation I’m working on. I’m kind of obsessed.” I paused. “But Malcolm’s the same way, putting in a lot of hours at the hospital, and I always knew he would never leave the