Sanders 01 - Silent Run (4 page)

Sarah bit down on her bottom lip, tasting blood, almost relieved to have a physical pain to go with the emotional ache in her heart. Why had she done the things he accused her of doing? He must have hurt her or Caitlyn. It was the only thing that made sense. What kind of woman erased her very existence from a person's life?

Only a woman who was afraid of something or someone. Only a woman who was desperate to disappear without a trace
.

He had to be the reason for her fear. Otherwise she would have turned to him instead of running away. “You did something,” she said. “I don't know what, but you must have done something."

“I never gave you a reason to leave me.” Jake dragged his hand through his hair in frustration, his green eyes widening in disbelief. “Is that the way you're going to play it now? Make up lies about us? It won't work. I never hurt you. And I never hurt our baby."

“I wouldn't have taken our child and left you without a good reason."

“How do you know that?” he challenged. “You said you don't remember anything. Yet your memory is suddenly returning -- just in time to paint me as the bad guy? I don't think so.” He glanced at Officer Manning. “You can check me out. I'm an architect. I work in San Francisco, and I've never gotten so much as a parking ticket. I'm not a dangerous man. My slate is clean. I have nothing to hide."

“I hope that's true,” Manning replied.

“It is. Right now my main concern is finding Caitlyn. How can I help?"

“I'd like to take the photograph of the child with me, so that we can broadcast a description of your daughter. If anyone saw Ms. Tucker with her child before the accident, that would give us a fixed time and location to work from."

“That picture is old. It was taken a couple of months before Sarah left,” Jake said, his voice laced with bitterness. “Caitlyn would be much bigger now, sixteen months and a few days. She'd be talking and walking.” His voice faltered as he drew in a sharp breath. “I missed a lot of her firsts, but I won't miss any more, Sarah. No more. I want my daughter back."

Sarah swallowed hard, his raw, painful words cutting her to the core.

Jake turned back to Manning. “The only reason I have that picture is because it was in my wallet. Sarah took the other photos with her when she left, or she destroyed them. If I hadn't had that one, I would have been left with nothing."

Officer Manning cleared his throat, breaking the thick tension in the room. “I'll give this back to you when I'm done.” He took the photo from Sarah's hand. “We'll have to sort out the rest later. Why don't you come down to the station with me, Mr. Sanders? I can fill you in on our investigation, and you can tell me more about your relationship with Ms. Tucker."

Sarah wanted to protest. Who knew what lies Jake Sanders would tell the deputy? Then again, she didn't want to be left alone with Jake. Maybe it was better if he went down to the station. She would have some time to figure out what to do next.

“All right.” Jake sent Sarah a meaningful look. “But I'll be back. We have a lot to discuss."

As the men left the room, Sarah knew she wasn't going to sleep again. She was going to do what came naturally to her -- run. Her instincts told her to get out of the hospital. She needed to find her daughter.

Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, she gently put her feet on the floor and tried to stand up. Dizziness hit her again like a huge ocean wave dragging her under, and the pain behind her left eye was stabbing and intense.

She took several deep breaths, waiting for the pain to subside. It didn't, so she just ruthlessly pulled the IV needle out of her arm. Then she grabbed her clothes off the end of the bed and began to dress. It seemed to take forever, every movement painful. She had just finished tying her shoes when the door opened, and her heart sank.

“I knew you were going to run,” Jake said, meeting her gaze head-on.

“Where's Deputy Manning?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“I realized as soon as I stepped out of the room that there was no way in hell I could leave you alone. I told the deputy I'd talk to him later. It's just you and me, Sarah.” He shut the door behind him with a definite click. “Just you and me.”

Sarah instinctively backed up until her legs hit the bed and there was nowhere else to go. Jake moved forward until he was inches away from her. He towered over her by at least half a foot. He was too big, too strong, and too male. She felt an overwhelming sense of fear, but she couldn't let him see that she was afraid.

They were in a hospital, she reminded herself. There were doctors and nurses out in the hall. He couldn't hurt her here.

“Why don't you tell me where you're going?” he said.

“To find my daughter.” She refused to be intimidated by this man. At the moment she didn't know if what he'd said about her was true or false. Until she did know, she was going to follow her instincts. Right now her instincts told her not to show any weakness.

“I thought you didn't know where Caitlyn was."

“I don't know where she is, but I can look. I can't just lie here and do nothing."

“Or maybe you're going to get her, so you can take off again,” he suggested.

If she knew where her daughter was, maybe she would do that, because something was off between her and this man. She couldn't imagine behaving the way he'd described -- unless she'd been desperate to escape. However, she couldn't help thinking that to remove all evidence of her existence before she left seemed more premeditated than desperate, more calculating than fearful. But she'd been afraid in her dream, and despite the bravado she was putting on now, she felt a sense of fear. There was danger somewhere -- she just didn't know where.

“Nothing to say?” Jake prodded. He took another step closer to her. His breath whispered against her cheek, drawing goose bumps across her arms. She could feel the power in his body standing so near hers, and the air sparked with tension between them.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to look at him. “I told you I just want to find my daughter."

Jake didn't reply for a long, tense moment, his gaze deep and hard, his eyes searching hers for the truth. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't give in to the temptation. He would only think she was trying to hide something.

Finally he gave a frustrated shake of his head. “I don't know if you're lying or not. I used to believe I was good at reading people, but you... you proved me wrong. I never suspected that you had so many secrets. I was completely taken in, fooled in every possible way."

She was surprised he would admit to such a thing. He seemed like a proud, confident, arrogant man. Or was he playing his own game, trying to make himself look like a victim?

“I imagined seeing you a million times in the last seven months,” he continued. “I thought about what I would say to you -- what you would say to me. I expected that you'd have a big story to tell me, some logical explanation for your departure. I never anticipated a sudden case of amnesia. It's a good defense. You don't have to answer any questions, because you don't remember."

The cutting anger in his voice drew her chin up. She couldn't defend her actions before she'd woken up in the hospital, but she could stand up for her behavior in the past twelve hours. “I'm not faking the memory loss. I don't recall anything before I woke up in this bed. You're no more familiar to me than the deputy who was just here. I don't know you. I don't remember anything about our life together. You could be telling me a boatload of lies. I don't trust you any more than you trust me."

Jake picked up the photo of the two of them that still rested on the bed. “You need proof that we were together. Here it is."

“That woman's hair is lighter."

“You had blond hair when I knew you.” His eyes narrowed. “Come on, Sarah; you can't deny this woman is you."

She couldn't deny it. Despite the different hair color, and the cuts and bruises she now wore, the face was the same one she'd seen in the mirror. “Even if it is me, I don't remember having the picture taken. I don't remember being with you at all."

He shook his head in anger and frustration. “Fine, you don't remember. So I'll tell you the way it was. We had an intense, passionate relationship. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. We were together for two years, and I thought I knew you inside and out. Then I came home one day to an apartment I didn't recognize, a home stripped bare of everything and everyone. At first I thought something terrible must have happened, a stranger had come into our home and hurt you or kidnapped you and Caitlyn. But that didn't jive with the way you'd left the house so neat and tidy and utterly empty. I haunted the police station for weeks. I hung up posters all over the city. I pleaded on television for someone to come forward and tell me where you were."

“I don't know what to say.” She felt damnation in each horrible word he uttered.

“Then just listen. Our friends, my coworkers, even one of the cops, suggested you might have had postpartum depression. No one came right out and said it, but I knew they were wondering if you'd harmed yourself and Caitlyn, too. But I kept telling them that you'd never hurt our child. You couldn't do such a thing."

“I don't believe that I did,” she said quickly. “Officer Manning told me he found fresh milk in a bottle in the backseat of my car. Caitlyn has to be okay. She's just somewhere I can't remember."

“I hope to God that's true, Sarah."

“It has to be true,” she said, hearing desperation in her own voice.

“Then maybe you left me for another reason. I don't care anymore what that reason was. What you did to me was unforgivable. And seeing you now alive and well only makes me remember how many hours I wasted worrying about you. The days kept passing, and I couldn't get any answers. The police gave up. No evidence of a crime, just a runaway girlfriend -- that's what they called you. So I hired private investigators, one after another. They all came up empty. They told me to accept the fact that you'd left of your own volition, and you'd probably had help, because there was no trail whatsoever. Even my friends encouraged me to move on, forget the last two years of my life, as if I could do that. We'd made a family, you, me, Caitlyn. And you ripped it apart. You destroyed everything."

If Jake was faking the raw, bitter pain in his voice, the agony in his eyes, he was an incredible actor. But if he was telling the truth, it sounded like she was a terrible person, cold and so cruel. Sarah didn't know which scenario she preferred.

“I don't understand,” she said helplessly.

“That makes two of us,” he continued. “Because when I went looking for you, I discovered that everything you'd told me about your past was a lie. I ran down your supposed relatives on the East Coast. You said your parents died when you were young, and that you'd gone to live with a grandmother in Boston, but that person didn't exist. You told me you went to Boston College, but they never heard of you. You came into my life out of nowhere, and you vanished exactly the same way. I almost started to think I'd imagined you, made you up. I thought I was going crazy,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“You're saying that I lied to you from the beginning?” she asked in surprise.

“That's exactly what I'm saying."

She put a hand to her temple as her headache deepened in intensity. Her senses began to spin, and her legs felt so weak she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Jake's face began to blur, and she twisted her fingers in the blanket and sheet so she wouldn't fall over.

“Are you all right?” Jake put his hand on her shoulder to steady her, and then yanked it away, as if he couldn't bear to touch her. His forehead drew into tight lines as he frowned. “Or is this another play in your game? Get me to feel sorry for you? Get me to go find the nurse or the doctor so you can leave?"

“I... I just need to catch my breath."

Jake's eyes narrowed. “You're white as a ghost. You look like you're going to pass out. This had better not be an act, Sarah. I can't take any more lies from you."

“It's not an act,” she murmured, knowing that she couldn't faint. She had to stay awake so she could deal with Jake, not that it wouldn't be appealing to escape the fury in his eyes -- if only for a few minutes. His anger and accusations were burning a hole right through her heart.

But some inner voice warned her not to assume that everything he said was the truth. She had to trust her own instincts. Words were just words, and Jake could have an agenda for wanting her to believe that she was a horrible person. He could be the one who was lying.

Jake pushed the call button for the nurse. “Let's get an objective opinion."

“I'm okay,” she said. “It's a lot of information to take in all at once."

“Or you're giving yourself a minute to think up another story."

Before she could reply, the nurse entered the room, frowning when she saw Sarah dressed in her street clothes. “Now, where do you think you're going?” Rosie asked.

“To find my daughter,” she said, even though she couldn't summon up the strength to get back on her feet.

“You need to rest,” the nurse said. “Come on, now; lie down."

“I don't want to lie down,” Sarah protested, but knew she was too weak to win this battle. Seeing the resolve in the nurse's face, she lay back on the pillows, stretching her legs out in front of her.

“That's better.” The nurse untied Sarah's shoes and pulled them off. “Your body has been through a lot. You need to give yourself time to recuperate. Why don't I get you a sleeping pill?"

“No,” she said immediately, hating the idea of losing any more control over her life. “I don't need a pill."