Sanders 01 - Silent Run (9 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

BOOK: Sanders 01 - Silent Run
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“I'll walk you up,” he said as Sarah got to her feet.

He avoided looking at Dylan, afraid he would reveal too much.

“I'll check with you both in the morning,” Manning said. “Hopefully we'll have some good leads to follow."

Jake put his hand on Sarah's arm as he escorted her out of the room. Dylan fell into step on her other side, the security guard following behind them. They didn't say a word as they made their way back up to the third floor.

Once inside her room Sarah kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bed with a weary sigh. She looked almost defeated, Jake thought. It wasn't just the pain of her injuries that was taking a toll -- it was the fear running through her. And he suspected it was that fear that was keeping her memory at bay. How could he give her the courage to face the demons in her head, especially when he didn't know what those demons were?

She hadn't trusted him enough to tell the truth about herself when they were together, and she certainly didn't trust him now. Nor did he trust her. Where did that leave them?

There was a dinner tray on the bedside table, and Sarah picked up the aluminum cover to reveal a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes. Jake felt his stomach grumble at the sight. The food didn't look all that appetizing, but he couldn't remember when either of them had last eaten. “You should eat,” he told her. “You need to get your strength back."

“I'm not hungry."

“Eat anyway. Do it for your daughter."

She reluctantly picked up her fork. “What about you?"

“He's coming with me,” Dylan said. “Down to the cafeteria. No arguments. The guard is outside, and Sarah isn't going anywhere, right, Sarah?"

“Right,” she muttered. “I wouldn't know where to go, and with someone trying to kill me, it's smarter to stay where I have someone watching out for me. I'm not an idiot, no matter what else you may think of me."

Jake hesitated, but his appetite won out. “Fine. I'll be back in thirty minutes. You'd better be here, Sarah."

“I will be,” she replied, meeting his gaze.

There had been a time in his life when he'd never doubted her. Now he had nothing but doubts.

* * *

“Stop checking your watch. Sarah isn't going to run,” Dylan said about twenty minutes later as he worked his way through a plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

“I'm not just worried about her leaving. I'm worried about who else might show up now that Sarah has gone public."

“What was with her during the broadcast? She looked terrified."

“Right before the interview Sarah told me she had a flash of being somewhere with the media nearby waiting for a story. She was being hustled out of the building in secret. She said she had the feeling she was going to have to disappear, to live under another name."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a scene from a movie."

“Or Witness Protection,” Jake suggested. The idea had been running around in his brain since Sarah had told him about the memory. “Think about it -- if Sarah witnessed a crime, then she could have been asked to testify. Her life might have been in danger. And if her testimony was important, someone might have tried to hide her. Maybe that's why she lied to me about her past,” he added, feeling as if the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to make sense.

“That's a lot of ifs,” Dylan told him.

“True. But we know that Sarah saw someone get shot."

“Or that's what she wants us to think. She drops a few key details here and there and paints a picture that could be true or not."

Jake nodded. “You might be right, but let's go with the theory that her complete memory is lost and the bits and pieces that she's remembering are clues to her past. Do you have any contacts in Witness Protection?"

“I can look into it."

“Good, thanks. I'll stay with Sarah tonight. Tomorrow I want to go out to the accident scene. After that, if Sarah is well enough to leave the hospital, I'd like to take her down to LA. Manning gave me the address on the car registration. Apparently there is no one at that address who knows anything about the owner of the car, Margaret Bradley, or Sarah, but it's an apartment building, and Manning didn't check with everyone living there."

“Sounds like a plan."

“Not much of one, but all I've got,” Jake said. “I just hope we get more leads from the broadcast tonight. I appreciate you setting that up. In fact, I appreciate everything you've been doing."

“It's no problem. I owe you, Jake. We both know that."

“No, you don't,” Jake said quickly.

“Yes, I do,” Dylan replied, meeting his gaze.

Jake saw a flash of pain flit through his brother's eyes and knew that despite his best efforts Dylan would be forever haunted and damaged by their past. What his mother had started with her sudden unexplained departure when Jake was ten and Dylan was seven, his father had finished with his brutal bullying of Dylan, who could never do anything right. Jake had tried to protect Dylan, but he hadn't always succeeded.

“Stop giving me that look; I'm fine now,” Dylan said, reading his mind.

“Yeah, that's what you always say."

“Forget about me. We've got more important things to worry about. We need to get your kid back."

Jake threw a couple of dollars on the table and stood up. “Did you find a motel for the night?"

“I will when I leave here. Be careful, Jake,” Dylan said as he got to his feet. “If someone wants Sarah dead, it's not a stretch to think they'd take you out to get to her."

* * *

Sarah couldn't believe she was actually missing Jake's presence. She'd spent most of the day wishing she could find a way to get rid of him. His never-ending suspicions kept her nerves on edge. But there was also something about his intensity, his determination to find his daughter, his strength and confidence that made her believe that if anyone could bring Caitlyn back to her, it was Jake. Not that he intended to hand his daughter over to her; she'd have to fight him for that. Surely, once her memory returned, she'd be able to do just that. But right now all she really wanted was to know that Caitlyn was safe. The rest would work itself out.

She flipped through the television channels with restless fingers. While her body was tired, her mind was still keyed up from the interview. She had done a terrible job. She'd felt as if every word she spoke was taking her down a path she didn't want to go. She'd gone against her instinct to stay in the shadows because of her desire to find her daughter; but somewhere inside she was terrified she'd done more harm than good.

Jake opened the door, and her pulse jumped at the sight of him.

When he came into a room she never knew what to expect. Most of the time he was extremely pissed off at her, but here and there she saw moments of softening, of kindness, or maybe she just wanted to see something good in him. She needed a friend, an ally, someone to trust, but was Jake that person?

He took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair next to the bed. Then he sat down and stretched out his long legs in front of him, folding his arms across his chest. He looked like he was settling in for the night.

“Are you going to sleep in your clothes?” he asked.

“I think so,” she replied. The hospital gown made her feel far too vulnerable. She wanted to be ready to flee at a moment's notice. “Where's your brother?"

“Looking for a motel. He has his computer with him, so he's going to get on the Net tonight and see what he can find out about some of the clues you've given us -- the tiger tattoo and the idea that you may have been involved in some sort of press-worthy case."

“You told him about that?"

He met her gaze. “He's my brother. I'd trust him with my life -- and yours,” he added.

“He doesn't like me."

“No, he doesn't. He suspected you were lying to me long before you left, but I didn't listen. In fact, I kicked him out of our home and said he didn't know what he was talking about. Fortunately Dylan doesn't hold a grudge. As soon as you disappeared with Caitlyn he came back, and he's worked tirelessly to help me find you."

Sarah looked away from Jake's bitter gaze. She didn't want to talk about her disappearance. She didn't want to hear again how she'd destroyed their lives. Instead she wanted to go a little farther back, find a way to understand the life Jake had told her about. She hit the mute button on the television and asked, “How did we meet?"

He frowned. “That's not important, and I don't want to get into the past with you."

“You're going to have to, Jake. I need to remember my life, and you're the only one who has any information. Maybe something you tell me will bring my memory back. That's what we both want, isn't it?"

Jake sighed and stared down at the floor for a long moment. He cracked the knuckles on his left hand, then his right. As she watched him, something fluttered deep within her. She'd seen him do this before when he was stressed, and she had the feeling that she'd worried about him, which surprised her. Jake was a big, strong guy, smart, more than able to speak his mind and to stand up for himself. So where would the anxiety have come from? Love?

He'd told her that they'd had a passionate romance, but it was difficult to believe, not just because she didn't remember him, but also because he didn't act like he loved her. He was so cold to her. She got a chill whenever he came near. Had his love disappeared with her hasty departure from his life? Or had something happened before that?

“We met in a café down the street from my office,” Jake said abruptly, lifting his gaze to hers. “You'd just started working as a waitress. I used to get lunch there on a regular basis. My architectural firm was down the street."

“What do you design?"

“Commercial buildings. But the day we met I was working on a personal project, a house I was planning to build. You were fascinated by the process and told me how much you loved houses, and you were dying to see some of the famous Victorians in the city. I offered to give you a tour, since you said you'd just moved to town and didn't know anyone. You didn't accept at first, but after a couple of invitations you said yes."

So she'd been cautious at first -- that felt right to her. “Go on."

“The next weekend we spent all day Saturday looking at houses; then we moved on to the Transamerica Pyramid, Coit Tower, and the old bank buildings on Market Street,” Jake continued. “When we were done, we went to dinner and talked for hours.” He paused, an odd light coming into his eyes. “Actually, I didn't realize until after you left me how much I talked and you listened. At any rate, we went out again the next night for dinner, and by the weekend we were in bed together."

His words were so pragmatic, but the actions he described were romantic, passionate, whirlwind, and not at all cautious. “That fast?” she murmured.

“You said I swept you off your feet,” he replied, his voice now laced with disbelief. “In retrospect you must have had an ulterior motive."

“Like what? Are you rich? Was it about money? Did I steal from you when I left?"

“You took a couple hundred dollars out of the dresser drawer in our bedroom, but you didn't have access to my bank account.” He leaned forward, his gaze darkening. “The thing is, Sarah, I wouldn't have cared if you had taken every cent I had, if you'd left Caitlyn with me."

She wanted to defend her actions, but she couldn't.

“I kept thinking you'd have second thoughts,” he continued, “that you'd come back or call or write me a letter. A couple of weeks after you left I received some hang-up calls, breathing on the other end, but no one would talk. It drove me crazy, but I didn't want to change my number in case it was you or it was someone who knew about you.” He paused. “And then there was the break-in."

Her heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about? What break-in?"

“About two weeks after you left, I came home and the back window of the apartment had been broken. Someone had come in, tossed the furniture, stolen some petty cash and my laptop computer. The police couldn't lift any fingerprints. They never figured out who did it.” He took a breath as he met her gaze. “I know what you're thinking, that it was connected to your disappearance. I thought so, too, but another apartment in the building was also broken into. In the end, the police believed it was just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill burglar."

“It seems odd to me,” she murmured, especially since she now knew that someone was trying to kill her. Had they been trying to kill her when she was with Jake, too? Was that why she'd run? Had they broken into Jake's apartment to find out where she'd gone, or to see if she'd left something important behind? If she'd cleaned out the apartment before she left, had she been trying to hide something?

“The timing felt coincidental,” Jake admitted. “But the fact that two apartments were broken into made it seem more random."

“Which might have been what they wanted you to think."

“It's easier to see that now. At the time I didn't have any idea you had a secretive past or were in danger. All I had was a note saying our relationship wasn't working and you were leaving."

She sighed at his unforgiving tone. “Is there anything you can tell me about myself that's good? Just one little thing, like maybe I squeezed the toothpaste from the bottom up, or I made really great popcorn, or anything?"

Jake didn't look eager to comply with her request. “I can't remember."

“I'm sure that felt good to say. A taste of my own medicine, huh?"

He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “It's hard to swallow, isn't it?"

Silence fell between them. She couldn't bring herself to beg for more information, and it was clear that Jake couldn't get past the anger he felt toward her. It radiated off of him in thick, pulsing waves, making the air between them tense and uncomfortable. It was going to be a long night.

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