Sanders 01 - Silent Run (24 page)

“The Red Cross is offering temporary shelter. I'll probably check that out. Why don't you come with me?” Amanda suggested. “Let your ex hang on his own for a while, just in case he's not who you think he is."

“I can't do that,” Sarah said, not sure why Amanda was trying to get her on her own. The fact that Amanda had lied to her once concerned her. “Let me make sure I have your cell phone number in case I need to reach you."

“I'll put it in my phone,” Jake said as Amanda gave him her number. “And why don't you take mine as well in case you think of anything else that might help us find Caitlyn.” He recited his number for her.

Amanda turned to leave. “Stay safe, Samantha."

“I'm going to try."

Sarah waited until she heard the front door of the house close before she spoke. “What do you think?"

“That Amanda was hiding something,” he said. “None of her emotions ring true."

“I agree. Her apartment just went up in smoke, and she didn't seem all that concerned."

“She knew Mrs. Murphy but wasn't that upset about what had happened to her."

“Maybe she's just had time to come to terms with it,” Sarah said, not sure what they were both trying to get at. Obviously Amanda had rubbed them the wrong way.

“She had an explanation for everything, but no real answers,” Jake said. He put his hands on his hips and let out a sigh. “I certainly wasn't expecting her to show up here. Let's take a look around. If you came here with Caitlyn, maybe you left some other clue behind as to where you were going next."

They walked back into the living room. Sarah stood in the middle of the room. Her gaze moved to a music box on the end table by the window. The lid was up. She crossed the room, knowing what she was going to find. “It's empty,” she murmured.

“What was in it?” Jake asked

“Money. Mrs. Murphy always kept cash under the fake bottom. It was for emergencies -- for her kids.” Sarah looked at Jake. “This wasn't open when we first got here."

“Maybe that's why Amanda came."

“You're right. She wasn't looking for me; she was looking for cash. Let's go to the hospital. I want to see Mrs. Murphy."

* * *

An hour later Sarah walked into a room on the third floor of St. Francis Hospital. Eleanor Murphy was lying on her back in a bed by the window. Her brown hair was streaked with gray. Her eyes were closed, but her lids were purple with the same bruises that filled the space across her cheekbones. Her skin was fair and dotted with freckles. Her arms and legs were immobile. If it weren't for the faint movement of her chest, Sarah would have thought Mrs. Murphy was already dead.

It was her fault the woman was in a coma. Someone had wanted to find her, and they'd used Mrs. Murphy to do it. Had they tortured the woman to get the information out of her? It certainly looked like someone had used her face as a punching bag.

It was suddenly too much for Sarah to take in. She turned into Jake's embrace, resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes against the pain and guilt sweeping through her.

Jake put his arms around her body and gave her a reassuring squeeze. He stroked her hair and said, “It's going to be all right."

The words echoed those she'd heard over and over again in a lilting Irish brogue.

“You're going to be all right, Jessica. You're going to grow up and have a happy life, and one day you'll have a family of your own. I can see it now as clearly as I can see you. You just have to have faith, child. The bad times will pass. There's only good coming your way."

Tears filled her eyes as Mrs. Murphy's words rang through her head. The voice was so loud, she turned her head to make sure Mrs. Murphy wasn't actually speaking to her, but she was as still as she'd been before.

“She used to take care of me in between houses.

She'd be the one to pick me up and buy me an ice cream or a hot chocolate, and then we'd go somewhere else. She'd always tell me it was going to be all right. I just had to wait and see.” Sarah paused. “I believed her every time. I couldn't stop believing. Catherine and Teresa used to tell me that I had to give up making wishes, but I couldn't stop."

“Not even when you were an adult,” Jake cut in. “You wished on everything -- birthday candles, stars that were probably airplanes, but what the hell, you wished on them anyway. You were superstitious, too. You couldn't walk under a ladder, and when a black cat crossed in front of us, I thought you were going to have a heart attack."

“I remember throwing salt over my shoulder and knocking on wood,” Sarah continued. “Catherine said I was a fool; no one was listening to my wishes or prayers, and it was a waste of time. Teresa said dreams were for suckers, and she wasn't going to let me be a sucker. The two of them were going to make me into a street kid."

“Sounds like you're remembering more and more."

“I hear their voices now in my head.” She gave him a quick look, hoping he didn't still think she was holding out on him, but there was no more suspicion in his eyes, just weariness and perhaps a little bit of hope that they were getting close. “But those girls, Mrs. Murphy, they were from a long time ago. I was with you at least two years, and before that I was in Chicago or God knows where. I'm not remembering anything important -- anything that's going to get us closer to Caitlyn."

“You're getting your memory muscles warmed up,” he said.

“Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?"

“Am I? That wasn't my intention."

“You just can't help it. You're a good guy."

“You used to think so,” he said roughly, his voice sending a ripple of awareness down her spine.

She turned away from his gaze, rattled by the sudden spark of attraction between them. She couldn't let herself get sidetracked. Drawing a deep breath, she focused on the woman in the bed. A moment later she said, “I remember Mrs. Murphy from my past, but not from last week or last month, even though it's clear I was in her house with Caitlyn at some point, and she obviously helped me get an apartment. I must have kept in touch with her over the years. I wonder why I didn't mention her to you. I wonder why I kept the foster-care stuff a secret from you."

“Whatever put you in danger happened before you met me,” Jake said. “You didn't want anyone to be able to trace your past. Apparently that included me."

Even though she wasn't looking at him, she could hear the pain in his voice, and she could feel the anger in the tight muscles of his body, just inches from hers. She knew her memory lapse was driving him crazy, and she suspected patience was not his strong suit, but she had to give him credit for hanging in there.

“You also knew Mrs. Murphy was hurt before you ran up the coast. Maybe she's part of the fear that's keeping your memory away,” he added.

“I'm trying to face the fear, Jake,” she said, looking back at him. “I keep telling myself that whatever it is, I just need to remember so I can find Caitlyn and protect her. I really wish this had worked."

“Well, it was worth a shot. I suspect there must be a police report on the break-in. Maybe I'll give Deputy Manning a call, see if he can find out what happened from the local cops."

She put a hand on his arm. “I don't think we should involve the police."

“Sarah, this is too big for us to figure out. We need some help, and we need to get you protection."

“Not the police,” she said, sudden terror running through her veins. “They can't protect me. If you call them, I will find a way to run again. That's a promise."

His eyes narrowed. “I won't let you do that."

“You can't watch me twenty-four hours a day."

“Sarah --"

“No, Jake. No cops. You're going to have to trust me on this."

“That's asking a lot, after what you did to me."

“I'm still asking."

She saw the indecision flicker in his eyes, but finally he nodded. “All right. We'll play it your way for the time being."

“Thank you. I guess we can go.” She took a step closer to the bed and covered the older woman's hand with her own. “Get better, Mrs. Murphy. I need you to be alive.” It was an odd thing to say, she thought, but deep in her heart she knew that this woman was important to her.

“We need to find a mall or a computer store,” Jake said as they left the hospital. “I want to buy a cheap laptop with Internet access. Then we can do some groundwork. We have more information now, and clues to follow, including Amanda and your other friends."

“What do you want to find out about Amanda?"

“I don't know, but like you I don't have a good feeling about her. It could be that she's just a cagey ex-foster kid like you and plays her cards close to her chest, or maybe there's still something she's not telling us."

“You don't think she has Caitlyn somewhere?"

“No, I don't, but I want to make sure she's the good friend and neighbor you thought she was, and not someone working for the bad guys."

“Whoever they are,” Sarah said.

“Whoever they are,” he echoed.

After picking up a laptop at the computer store, they found a small motel and checked into a room on the second floor. Their front door opened onto an exterior hallway with a view of the parking lot. They wouldn't be caught in another ambush if anyone tried to set fire to this place. Although Sarah sincerely hoped that no one knew where they were. They were miles away from her apartment in a different city, and Jake had taken a circuitous route, making sure that no one was following them. Hopefully they were safe for the moment.

The room had two queen-size beds and the basic hotel furnishings. Sarah set her duffel bag on one of the beds, suddenly very aware of the fact that she and Jake would be spending the night together. They'd done the same last night, but she'd been in a hospital bed with a guard outside. Now it was just the two of them. She knew why Jake hadn't requested two rooms. It was safer for them to stick together. Safer in one way anyway... But the night loomed long in front of her.

When they were running she didn't have to think about their relationship. There was noise and chaos and clues to distract her. Now there was only silence.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

Jake set the computer box on the table. “Nothing yet. I need to set this up."

“Maybe I'll just stretch out for a minute then."

“Yeah, take a rest."

She sat down on the bed and kicked off her shoes, then leaned back against the pillows. It felt good to let the tension out of her tight muscles. She closed her eyes, almost afraid to sleep, because her dreams were as scary as her reality, but she had to face her fears. She couldn't keep running. She simply had to stop and let the terror catch up to her. Then she would deal with it. She would beat it, she told herself firmly. She was a survivor, a scrapper. She knew more about herself now, and while her time in foster care was still hazy and vague, she remembered the nights of loneliness, the uncertainty of the next day, the bad people who wanted to do bad things, and the knowledge that she was taking care of herself from here on out, because there was no one else to do it for her.

But Jake had wanted to take care of her. He'd told her that he'd asked her to marry him. He was building a house for her. And she had screwed it all up.

Maybe she was destined to live a rootless, homeless existence. But what about her child? Why had she dragged Caitlyn along with her?

She knew the answer to that question, and it didn't come from her head but from her heart -- because she couldn't bear to leave her child behind. Growing up alone, without any family, she'd finally had someone who shared her blood, who was part of her. She couldn't give her baby up, not even to Caitlyn's father.

Restless, Sarah turned over on her side, putting her hands under her face, trying to stop thinking so much. But with the thought of Jake came a singing rush of blood through her veins. With every passing second she had become more acutely aware of him. She'd seen every side of his personality, from anger and bitterness to kindness and caring. He hated her, but he'd saved her life. Maybe he'd done it for Caitlyn, but he'd done it all the same. He was a good man -- a man who claimed to have loved her.

She wanted to open her eyes, to call him over, to replay that explosive kiss they'd shared earlier. She couldn't lie to herself: She wanted Jake. She didn't know if her feelings came from the past or the present, but with each passing minute she became more acutely aware of every little thing about him: the tenor of his voice, the lingering scent of his aftershave, the strength of his hands when he held her.

She had to bite back a sigh. She couldn't let Jake get any closer. They were skating along the edge of a cliff, and the last thing she needed to do was make another mistake. So she squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her fingers in the pillowcase. Sleep, that was all she was going to do.

* * *

Jake was relieved to see that Sarah had fallen asleep. Maybe he could concentrate better now. Since they'd walked into the motel room, his body had gone on high alert. They hadn't checked into the motel to have sex, and that was definitely the last thing he wanted to do with Sarah... well, maybe not the last thing, but it certainly wouldn't be the smartest thing. They simply needed a place to spend the night. And there were two beds, thank God. He wouldn't have to worry about her rubbing her body against his the way she'd done every night of the two years they'd been together. He wouldn't have to be afraid that he'd wake up with her head on his chest, her arm around his waist, her hair tickling his nose, her scent teasing him into hardness, her legs wrapped around his.

Dammit
. He ran a hand through his hair. He shouldn't be remembering the good times, the way she couldn't keep her hands off of him while she slept, as if she had a desperate need to keep him close to her.