Danger In The Shadows (11 page)

He seemed to think her on the verge of breaking apart, for his hold was the gentlest yet firmest grip she had ever felt. His touch spoke of safety…comfort.

She struggled to wrestle back control from the memories. She couldn’t tell him all of it, but she had to tell him some of it. “Adam, I was not the only one snatched. They grabbed my twin sister Kim too. She died during the kidnapping.”

The past slammed into her mind…the terror as she realized Kim was no longer answering her. She had known her sister was dead, but for hours couldn’t accept it. She’d screamed at God for help, even as choking tears depleted her own remaining resources.

She had said it…told him the ugly truth…and it could not be unsaid. She waited for the tightening hold, the reaction.

Nothing.

Nothing but a catch in his breathing. His arm remained firm around her waist, and the hand stroking her arm continued its gentle caress.

And all she wanted to do was close her eyes and get lost in that sensation…to forget who she was, what she’d survived, and all that could never be.

Adam was afraid to move.
Lord, keep me still. Don’t let me lose it. If I react wrong here, I’m going to lose her, and this door will never open again.

He finally took a breath. “It must feel awful to be the one who survived.”

A shudder rippled down her back.

He didn’t bother coaxing her to the couch, he simply led her there. He didn’t try to get her to raise her face or see her expression. He knew what was there—Kim—she had lost her sister. She had lost her twin sister. Nothing prepared someone to hear that. She opened a door for him into those nine days of captivity…and he wasn’t sure he wanted to step inside.

God, give us the strength to get through the next few minutes.

He held her, stroking her arm, waiting.

“We were back in the States with our mom for vacation, visiting friends,” Sara finally said quietly. “We were all at the park—Dave playing catch with a friend, Kim and I on the swings, our mom sitting on a bench reading. The van…it drove right between us and Mom, and two men dashed out. They grabbed us and they threw Dave to the ground when he tried to intervene.”

Adam wished she needed the tissues he had reached for, but Sara was still dry eyed despite the shudders that rippled under his hands on occasion. It scared him, her ability to detach facts from emotions, and she was doing it now.

“It was almost twenty-four hours before the chaos of being moved and taken from vehicle to vehicle was over. We were hooded, our hands bound. And then we were put into hell.”

Her grip tightened around his hand so hard he winced. “I learned much later after we were found that it was a root cellar, sloped, but deep enough a man could stand, built behind a farm in the middle of nowhere. They sat us on opposite sides of the cellar, the ropes binding us so that we couldn’t reach each other. It was dark. Blinding dark all of the time.”

“Was there a ransom demand?”

“Not for the first four days. And then they demanded six million dollars apiece.”

“Twelve million dollars?”

She twisted one of the tissues he had given her around her fingers. “Dad was only willing to pay seven.” Her bewilderment was plain. “Negotiations began and then broke down and then began again.” She struggled to get the next words out. “Kim died on the evening of the eighth day from fear and thirst.”

Adam tightened his hold around her waist, knowing she was in trouble. He tried to get her past the painful memory.

“You were found on the ninth day?”

“Sunrise. I was lifted from the hole in time to see the most beautiful sunrise God had ever created. Brilliant orange, offsetting a turquoise blue that radiated across the full sky. Someone had noticed a pickup coming out to the deserted farmhouse. A local sheriff’s deputy decided it was worth checking out. They left evidence in the house. He saw the new padlock on the root cellar. A $2.49 shiny new padlock. That was what saved my life.”

“Sara.” He tried to stop her story, for the shock was rippling through his own system.

Her head rested against his chest. “My dad ended up paying seven million dollars and getting one daughter back. I don’t know which he hates me for the worst—being the wrong daughter to survive or losing the seven million dollars he paid out, for the money was never recovered.”

Adam closed his eyes. His chin rested against her hair and his hands stroked her back. No child should have to pay the price she had been forced to pay. She had been there when her sister died…. “I should never have put you into the position where you had to tell me this.”

Tears flowed from her eyes now, for he could feel them on his shirt. “Shhh.” He didn’t try to stop the tears as much as he did the pain.

“This is who I am. This is what I live with day after day. You can’t know me and not know.”

“They didn’t catch the kidnappers?”

“They caught one of the two, but he was the extra hand, not the brains behind the kidnapping. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole, but he has never given anything away about his partner.”

She looked up and Adam saw the pain in her eyes that went beyond anything he could comprehend.

“My father did not come back from Britain. He was informed of the kidnapping, and he spoke hourly with the FBI, but he never left his post in Britain, never returned to the States. When we were found, he came back but only to attend Kim’s funeral. He came by the hospital to see me for all of ten minutes.”

Adam framed her wet face with his hands. “I can’t explain his actions, Sara. I doubt anyone could. He must have been in shock.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t think Kim and I were his children. I overheard my parents arguing during the divorce discussions.”

Adam closed his eyes. Did anything in her past ever work out with justice? “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I tried so hard to please him when I was young, but nothing ever seemed to be enough. He could tolerate Kim, but I was too much of a tomboy. The ironic thing is the DNA tests they did for the blood traces proved we were his children.”

Sara rubbed her red eyes, probably hating the fact she had cried. She closed her eyes as she sighed, trying to collect herself. “Kim is buried in the same cemetery as your father; that’s why I knew what inscription you had added to his tombstone. Mom’s family plot is there. Kim’s gravestone has an angel etched on the stone and a pair of ribbons and a little teddy bear.”

She was weary beyond words; Adam could see it in her posture, her cloudy eyes. The memories might be twenty-five years old, but they were still raw. “Thank you for trusting me, Sara. I know how hard it must be to talk about this.”

There was more. There was a lot more. He didn’t think he could handle hearing it at the moment. His own emotions were churning with rage that the man who had done this was still free.

“I think you chose the wrong time to get to know me, Adam.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The memories constantly intrude.”

Adam hugged her, understanding the dilemma. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle bad memories.” He kissed her gently on her wet cheek.

They sat together for another hour, talking quietly, silence stretching between them when needed, words said when they would help. He eased her into his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

Adam intentionally slowed their conversation as Sara grew drowsy. It had been a long day for her, and she had just spent a great deal of emotional energy. He waited until she was asleep before carefully shifting his arm and reaching for the phone on the end table.

“Dave, she’s spending the night. Go on home. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

“Absolutely no way!”

“She told me about Kim. Go home, Dave,” Adam said quietly.

Sara was peacefully asleep in the guest room. Adam carried a cold soda back with him to the den, Henry trailing behind him. Sleep for Adam was a long way away.

Okay, God. What now?

His emotions were boiling, and he wished he had a football game to play, some way to wear off this anger. He wanted to throw something, feel the energy release. They had to catch this guy. It was that simple. A future with Sara depended on it.

Living with these memories was tearing her up inside; she was never able to get closure. It was a living wound in her heart.

Murderers didn’t walk free while victims lived in fear, not in Adam’s view of the world, not if there was anything he could do to change it.

God, I want this guy caught. I want him to pay a price for what he did. I want justice.

No, if he were honest, what he wanted was vengeance. He wanted the man dead. And he wanted it to happen slowly, painfully…to cause the monster as much agony as he had caused Sara and her family.

Adam drew a deep, shuddering breath.
I want vengeance, Lord. I’ll have to settle for justice.

For Sara’s sake, he’d let justice be enough.

C
HAPTER
8

S
ara woke abruptly. Disoriented, her first instinct was to reach for the end table and the gun she kept in the drawer. There was no end table on the left side of the bed. Her adrenaline surged. She rolled in the other direction and was met by sunlight coming in a wide window with sheer drapes.

Sara blinked.

The bedroom was large, beautiful. The comforter over her was soft and peach colored. Four pillows surrounded her—big, soft, with rose-patterned pillowcases. She had instinctively created a shell for herself with them.

Where was she?

Talking with Adam was the last thing she remembered.

How in the world had Dave allowed this? Had there been words between him and Adam last night? She could imagine what that conversation must have been like.

She eased back the covers. In the wrinkled clothes of yesterday, she felt the strong need for a shower and a hairbrush. A look at the time showed it was almost quarter after ten.

Slipping from the bed, she listened quietly to see if she could hear anything from Adam.

She yawned as she opened the bedroom door. There was a bathroom across the hall, and she found fresh towels laid out, a wrapped toothbrush, and a mix of perfumed shampoo samples.

Sara looked over the selections, grateful for Adam’s consideration. She took a long shower and let the hot water free her from the remains of a restless night’s sleep.

She had told him about Kim. In the light of day, she could not believe she had done that.

How was Adam handling it today? Last night he had listened, comforted her, but said very little. But now? After he had a night to think about what she had said? It was hard to know what to expect. Would he say nothing? a lot? She was afraid of the questions he would want to have answered.

She had told him about her past and about Kim, and to tell him the rest would be hard but possible. He would be able to cope with it.

She could never live with the risk that one of her own children would go through what she had endured. Her wealth was so much greater than her father’s, and Adam’s wealth was equal to if not beyond her own. Add the factor he was a public figure, and the risk to any child would be enormous. She would never take that risk.

Sara forced herself to step from the shower. She brushed her wet hair, her hands rough when they encountered tangles.

She knew she was on borrowed time. But she didn’t want to lose the friendship.

She brushed out the wrinkles in her clothes as best she could. The jeans were fine, but the soft sweater was a little more rumpled.

There was no avoiding the inevitable. She walked down the hall, the smell of coffee drawing her toward the kitchen.

“Hello, Sara.”

The voice came from behind her. She spun around on bare feet. “Adam. Hello.”

He stared at her for a moment, then smiled. “Relax. It’s hard to be formal in bare feet.”

She hated the fact he could make her blush so easily.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He was looking for something else in her answer, but she was not sure what it was. He didn’t enlighten her.

“Would you like some breakfast? tea? coffee? I can make an omelet and there are fresh muffins.”

“I am hungry,” she admitted.

“Then let’s eat. I waited for you.”

“Where’s Dave?” she asked gingerly, never having been in this position before, not sure if she should say thank-you for Adam’s hospitality or be upset that he had somehow convinced her brother to leave her with him for the night.

“In the living room. He showed up around six this morning, and it was obvious he doesn’t get told to go home very often.”

Adam’s humor caused her to relax. “Oh m y, I’m sure there were words.”

His mouth curved into a devastating smile. “Actually, he brought the muffins. And a change of clothes for you.”

“Why didn’t you send me home?”

“I liked having you here,” Adam brushed his hand down her cheek, “and you desperately needed the sleep.”

Sara had the awful suspicion she was being treated like a kid sister again. She had to take it from Dave; Adam was a very different matter. “Feed me, Adam. Then I’ll get out of your way and go home.” She started walking toward the kitchen.

“Hey, what did I say?”

“Nothing.”

“She’s a bear before she’s had a cup of coffee.” Dave told Adam, handing Sara the coffee he had just poured.

“Start telling stories, Dave, and you’ll be fixing your own dinners for weeks.” Sara stirred her coffee with a cinnamon stick. “Did you make this?” she asked her brother, suspicious of how strong it looked.

Dave smiled. “Yes. Live with it.”

She grimaced and found the cream. She selected one of the blueberry muffins and her hand covered a yawn. She never felt awake until midafternoon.

She ate, watching Adam fix himself an omelet. She was glad she had passed on his fixing her one. Everything was going into that omelet, including what looked to be very hot red peppers.

Adam looked good first thing in the morning. He was dressed casually in jeans and a soft chocolate sports shirt. His dark wavy hair ended just above the collar.

Dave was watching her. Sara shifted away from the counter.

She refilled her coffee mug and carried it into the living room, settling into a comfortable chair.

King Henry came to join her, the dog choosing to sit by her feet. Sara idly rubbed his coat with a bare foot. The dog flopped down on the floor and rolled over. Sara laughed and rubbed his belly.

She felt a lingering headache from last night. Her sleep had been peaceful, but the memories were still near the surface. Thank goodness the memories had not invaded her dreams last night.

To kill time and to keep from thinking about Adam, Sara picked up the book on the end table. She rarely read science fiction, but she opened the novel to the marked page and glanced at the text. There was a major interplanetary war going on. Having felt like she had lived through a few of them herself, Sara settled back to enjoy the story. It was interesting reading.

She heard her brother return to the living room, and a few minutes later Adam came to lounge against the doorpost.

“You need to eat more than a muffin, Sara. What else appeals? Fruit? A bagel?”

“I’m fine.”

She knew he was coming across the room without having to lift her eyes from the book. Two hands settled on the arms of the chair. She glanced up with a smile into eyes that were inches from hers. Today his eyes looked like those of a wolf, a silver wolf who had his prey caught. The idea had Sara fighting a desire to laugh.

This man she knew, and she was not above flirting with him, even if her brother was present. Times with Adam were going to be few and far between. She planned to store as many memories of their time together as she could.

One of her hands moved to press against the center of his chest; her fingers curled. “I like being a skinny rabbit. It keeps me fast on my feet.”

Adam’s eyes lit with laughter, and his gaze moved down to look her over. “You’re a pretty thin rabbit. Would you like apples or oranges?”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it’s for your own good. I’m an athlete; I know nutrition.”

She wanted to laugh at his expression because he was flirting back with her, but she knew her limits. “May I have a glass of orange juice then?”

“You may.” His right hand lifted to the side of her face and fingered the drying curls. “You look quite beautiful this morning, in case I haven’t mentioned that fact already.”

Sara felt her face grow warm. “Thank you.”

“Now don’t go all formal on me; I think the curls are delightful.”

Her hand still rested against his chest; she gave him a slight push back. “My orange juice, Adam.”

She thought for an instant he was going to kiss her, but he hesitated and backed off. Sara sent a glare to her brother who looked back innocently from across the room.

“So what would you like to do today, now that you’ve managed to sleep through church?”

“You do realize you’ve managed to cost me my attendance sticker for this month.”

“Blame Dave. I wasn’t the only one who let you sleep in. So what
do
you want to do today?”

Sara had no idea how she was supposed to answer that. She looked back at him, raising one eyebrow.

“My nephew has a Little League game at three o’clock. Want to come and have hot dogs and peanuts and meet my sister?” Adam offered. “It will be fun.”

Going to a Little League game fit what she already knew about him. She would dearly love to meet his sister. “Dave?”

“As long as we’re not tailed to the park and there’s not a journalist covering the game, security won’t be a major problem.”

“I would love to go,” Sara decided, and the agenda was set for the day.

“Here, you’ll need this.” Sara accepted one of the lawn chairs Adam handed her from the trunk of his car. He carried two more and a cooler of sodas.

Sara had dressed for the ball game, choosing her casual attire with care: white shorts and an emerald top, her hair pulled back away from her face in a gold clip. She was meeting Adam’s family after all.

“There’s Mary Beth.”

Sara saw a mom and two girls unpacking a sack of food on a picnic table. “How many from your family are coming?”

“Hard to tell. We’ve got three cousins, and a couple of them sometimes come around to see Peter’s games. There’s Peter out in left field practicing. The girls are Rachel and Bethany.”

Sara felt the flutters begin inside. What if Mary Beth didn’t like her?

Dave was walking two yards to the east of her. Behind his dark sunglasses she knew he was scanning the crowds. Dave didn’t like her to be in public places. She understood it and could certainly empathize. The scar from the bullet he had taken in New York was always a reminder when he dressed each morning of the dangers that followed her. The FBI agent Dave had recruited for the day was already mingling with the growing crowd.

Mary Beth looked up as they approached. “Adam, I was wondering if you were going to make it. When you missed church this morning, I wasn’t sure what to think.”

Adam set down the items he carried.

“Hi, Mary Beth.” Adam gave her a hug that lifted her off her feet. “I got held up this morning,” he replied. “How are my two favorite girls?” He swung up Rachel and Bethany, getting giggles from them.

Sara saw Mary Beth’s eyes shift and take in her closeness to Adam, taking in with some alarm the presence of Dave. It was too warm a day for a jacket. Dave had chosen to make his presence as security known up front. He was an intimidating figure in the dark glasses, stiff posture, and visible weapon.

Adam reached over and caught Sara’s hand. “Mary Beth, this is Sara. I believe Jordan has mentioned her on occasion.”

Sara wasn’t prepared for the sudden smile.

“He has told me only enough to ensure I just had to meet her. Sara, this is a pleasure.”

Sara found herself in a hug that surprised her and startled Dave.

“Umm…what exactly has Jordan told you?”

Mary Beth smiled warmly. “That you told my brother no repeatedly when he originally asked you out. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to find out Adam has finally met his match.”

Sara found herself pulled toward the table and kids and away from Adam. She sent a helpless look back at him and he just grinned.

“She’s harmless, Sara; I promise.”

Mary Beth laughed. “I’ve also been waiting to put you to work, Adam. Chet needs an assistant coach for the game. Lisa went into labor this morning, so you’re up next as his replacement.”

Adam hesitated a moment beside Sara, gently squeezing her shoulders. “You’ll be okay here? I could ask a favor and have Frank take my place.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll enjoy watching you be a coach.” Sara leaned her head back against his shoulder.

Adam kissed her. It was a quick kiss, one Sara didn’t expect; then he was gone. She blinked her eyes, then realized if she wasn’t careful she would be looking right into the sun.

He had kissed her.

She wished she were anywhere but here. Mary Beth had seen it. Her kids had seen it. Sara had to pretend it was nothing, when it was exactly the opposite. Big time. Adam had known exactly what he was doing staking that claim in front of his family, his friends. He was issuing her a challenge.

Sara wanted to accept. She would give her fortune, her name, her heart to accept, to kiss him back and match him in a dance toward making this friendship become a relationship.

But she couldn’t do it. Just watching Adam as the boys gathered around him told her how much children meant to him. To deny him part of who he was would be to leave a lasting wound in his heart. She was too close to falling in love, and love required what was best for the other person.

Mary Beth kept her girls busy laying out a picnic lunch and introduced Sara to several families who came by to say hello. It was obvious the Little League games were family events. Rachel and Bethany were soon off playing with friends their own ages.

Sara took a long drink from the cold soda she held. She and Mary Beth had settled into lawn chairs to watch the game begin. Dave was standing nearby, resting his weight against the bulk of a massive oak tree, taking advantage of the shade and the view of the entire area. Sara was beginning to relax. Mary Beth had the ability to put someone at ease, and she was going out of her way to do that with her.

“Peter plays left field because he can’t catch very well. He’s been working so hard at it too, both with Jordan and with Adam.”

“Where is your husband, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Mary Beth looked around, then pointed him out. “Looks like he’s going to be the home plate umpire this game. Normally he’s the official scorekeeper.”

“Were you as active in sports when you were in school as Adam was?”

Mary Beth smiled. “Lettered in track and basketball.”

Sara shaded her eyes and wished she had brought her sunglasses. “Adam doesn’t seem to attract undue attention here.”

“He doesn’t. He’s a known quantity. Besides, he’s autographed just about everything any of these kids own, from their shoes to their hats.”