Sanders 01 - Silent Run (7 page)

“Maybe that's the person who's trying to kill me,” she said.

“Maybe it is."

“And I won't see him coming, because I don't know who he is."

“Then you'd better get your memory back fast. I'm going to get some air."

Sarah stretched out on the bed and sank back against the pillows as Jake left the room. She was both relieved and terrified to be alone. She didn't know where the danger would come from next, but she was certain that whoever was after her was not through trying. She had to remember. She simply had to.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she searched desperately for a memory. But there was nothing. She knew there was only one way to get into her brain; she had to try to sleep. Her nightmares might be the only way to find her daughter.

The questions were so simple. He wanted to know her name, where she came from, what she did, who she was. He was so handsome, so sophisticated, so clearly out of her league that she couldn't help but hesitate. Deep in her heart she wanted to speak the truth, the whole ugly truth, but she was afraid of the results. Things would change. He wouldn't smile at her the way he was smiling now -- not if he knew who she really was. If she didn't give him the right answers, he'd walk away. It had happened before.

What did it matter in the end? She would be who he wanted her to be. She'd learned that important lesson years earlier. Give them what they want, and then they'll want you.

Sarah woke up with a start, not sure how long she'd been asleep, but the room was filled with dark, late afternoon shadows. Blinking rapidly, she took in the now-familiar surroundings of her hospital room. The clock read five thirty. She'd been asleep for about an hour. She'd been dreaming again -- about a man. He'd been wearing a tuxedo. But his face remained vague, in the shadows of her mind. Was it Jake she'd dreamed about? Was it one of their early dates, when she'd first told him the lies about herself?

For some reason she didn't think so. Was it possible there was another man in her past? Someone else she had lied to? She frowned at that disturbing thought. What kind of a woman lied again and again? The only answer was that she had something to hide. And now she wasn't just hiding the past from others; she was also hiding it from herself.

Sitting up, she put a tentative hand to her head. The swelling had gone down, and her temple was much less painful. The dizziness also seemed to have eased. As she stretched her stiff limbs, she wondered where Jake was and, more important, what he was doing.

The door to her room opened, and she turned her head, expecting to see Jake, but it was another man. He was taller than Jake and thinner, dressed in a navy blue suit with a light blue tie that hung loose about his neck. His hair was brown but spiked and streaked with blond highlights, giving him a bit of a surfer look that didn't quite match his conservative attire. His eyes were a light brown, flecked with the same gold as his hair.

As he approached the bed, she tensed. Her first thought was that he was one of the doctors who had been called in to consult on her case, but there was something about the look in his eyes that bothered her. Her heart sped up.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “How did you get in here?"

Sarah reached for the call button as the man moved closer to her bed.

“Ready to call in the cavalry so soon?” he drawled. “I'm hurt. We haven't even talked yet, Sarah."

“I asked who you are,” she repeated, unsure of what to make of his cynical, sarcastic tone.

“That's right. Jake says you don't remember anything or anyone. Very convenient."

“Not for me. How do you know Jake?"

“I'm his brother, Dylan,” he replied, his gaze never wavering from her face. “Sound familiar, Princess?"

“Only in that Jake told me he had a brother,” she replied. Now that she knew who he was, she threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin. She might have to answer to Jake, but she didn't have to answer to his brother. “And don't call me princess."

“What should I call you? I doubt Sarah is your real name, since I've spent the past seven months looking for you. My gut tells me you've been a number of people over the years, depending on whatever scam you were running. Otherwise we would have been able to track you down. But you were playing a game, a very good game -- I'll give you that. You seemed so sweet and innocent, Jake's perfect blond angel, but that was just an illusion, wasn't it? Underneath that eager-to-please exterior was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing. You figured out everything Jake wanted, and then you gave it to him. You were smarter than I thought. But finally you made a mistake. You drove your car off the road and ended up where we could find you. So, game over.” His gaze hardened. “Why don't you come clean, Sarah? Give Caitlyn back to Jake. Let him raise her. I'm sure a baby must be cramping your style."

“I don't know what you're talking about. What you say means nothing to me, and frankly, the person you're describing doesn't feel like me."

He shook his head, his eyes glittering in disbelief. “Doesn't feel like you -- well, isn't that informative? Fine, you don't know anything about the past, so I'll fill you in. I walked away before. I kept my mouth shut, because Jake was stupidly in love with you, but I will not stand by and let you hurt my brother again. I will do whatever it takes to get Caitlyn back for Jake. And you won't stand in my way. Got it?"

There was no doubt about the threat in Dylan's voice. Sarah had one more enemy to add to the rapidly growing list of people who didn't like her.

The door opened, and Jake walked in holding two cups of coffee. His eyes were weary, his face showing a dark shadow of beard across his jaw. As he handed Dylan a cup, he frowned. “I told you to wait for me before you talked to Sarah."

“I wanted to see her for myself,” Dylan said. “You're right: She looks like hell. But I don't feel one ounce of sympathy for her, and neither should you."

“I don't,” Jake replied.

While they reconfirmed their dislike of her, Sarah eyed their coffees with envy. She could have used a shot of caffeine to raise her energy to face the night ahead, but she wouldn't ask Jake to get her a cup. He'd no doubt suspect some ulterior motive. Instead she asked, “Did you speak to Officer Manning again? He said he was going to come by, right?"

“He's downstairs,” Jake said. “Look, Sarah, I don't know if Dylan told you, but he arranged for the local news channel to send a reporter over here. They want to do a short interview with you, ask for the public's help in identifying you and locating Caitlyn. It will air on the six-o'clock and eleven-o'clock newscasts tonight."

“But we already know who I am,” she said, suddenly terrified at the prospect of going on camera and talking to a reporter.

“Someone may have seen you with Caitlyn at a rest stop or a restaurant, a gas station, somewhere that would help us pinpoint your location before the accident.” Jake's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her hesitation. “Is there a problem?"

“Someone is trying to kill me. That's a problem,” she said, panic rising. “I don't know if it's a good idea for me to go on television."

“It's no secret you're here in the hospital,” Jake said. “In fact, the more public you are, the more difficult you'll make it for someone to get to you."

Everything he said was true, but her mind still urged her to say no. “I think it's a mistake."

“Why?” Dylan shot out. “What are you afraid of?"

“I'm not sure. My instincts tell me to lie low."

“Well, my instincts tell me that we're going to need all the help we can get to find Caitlyn,” Jake said. “You're going to do this if I have to carry you down there and force you to speak. This is a great opportunity for us to get the word out that Caitlyn is missing. I'm not going to waste it. And you have to be there, because you were with her. It's your face someone may recognize, not mine. It's also possible that whoever has Caitlyn will see the broadcast, realize you're not coming back, and step forward."

She knew he was right, and her reluctance was only making Jake and Dylan more suspicious of her -- if that was even possible. She had no choice but to agree.

“All right. I'll do it,” she conceded. “When is it?"

“Ten minutes, downstairs."

She swung her legs off the bed. “I need to use the restroom.” She stood up slowly, her head spinning. Jake started to reach for her, and then thought better of it. Dylan watched her as if he were waiting for her to reveal something. Despite the fact that they weren't leaving her alone, she knew she was very much on her own. The two men were united -- against her.

It was odd, but the feeling of being alone felt very true to her. She sensed she'd been on her own for most of her life. She'd told Jake her parents had died. That felt right. The rest, she had no idea.

When she thought she could move forward without falling, she put one tentative foot in front of the other until she had crossed the room. She reached for the restroom door with relief.

Once inside, she put her hands on the sink for balance and stared at her face in the mirror. The bruises around her eyes were darker, and the small cuts on her cheek were healing. Her brown hair was a mess, thick, tangled, curly, frizzed at the ends, completely wild. She felt a distinct feminine yearning for a hairbrush but settled for running her fingers through her hair, trying to get rid of some of the bigger tangles.

The familiar motion made her pause. She'd done this before. An image flashed through her mind.
Her hair was blond, and there'd been a man in the mirror, coming up behind her, his strong hands slipping around her waist as he nuzzled her neck with his lips. She could feel his warm mouth on her skin, his hard body behind hers. She looked for his face in the glass, but it remained maddeningly out of reach
.

It had to have been Jake. They'd been lovers, obviously. They'd had a child together. But had he been the only man in her life? She was twenty-eight years old, according to Jake. They'd been together two years. That left her early twenties up for grabs. She had to have been somewhere before she arrived in San Francisco. She had to have had friends, relatives. Why was her past so elusive? Had she told so many lies that she didn't know what the truth was anymore?

Lies implied secrets, danger -- had she done something horrific? Or had she seen someone else do it? Was she a victim or a villain?

She stared at her face in the mirror, determined to find something there that jarred her memory. But eventually her features turned into one unrecognizable blur. She didn't know who she was. But someone knew the truth about her. And they wanted to kill her. There had to be a reason why.

* * *

“You're sure Sarah isn't faking this amnesia?” Dylan asked as he dug his hands into the pockets of his slacks and paced around one side of the small hospital room.

Jake sighed. He didn't need his younger brother's overwhelming cynicism to make this any more difficult. “She's pretty good if she's acting,” he prevaricated.

“Well, you already know she's good,” Dylan reminded him.

“It's not just me. The doctor is convinced as well."

“Yeah, well, Sarah has a way of distracting men from the truth."

“Just say you told me so; then we can get it over with.” Jake knew his brother had been biting back the words for the past seven months.

“I told you so,” Dylan replied, meeting his gaze. “I knew Sarah was lying, but you wouldn't believe me, and you should have. I'm your brother. I have your back. And you know women are natural-born liars. But still you ignored all the warning signs."

Jake knew his brother wasn't just talking about Sarah. “She's not Mom."

“She's the same,” Dylan said with a shrug. “She left, didn't she?"

Jake didn't want to go down that path. His brother's bitter feelings about their mother ran extremely deep. “Let's stay focused on the present, shall we?"

“Fine. Maybe something will come of the newscast. Although Sarah certainly doesn't want to do it -- not exactly the actions of a woman desperate to find her child."

“She's scared,” Jake admitted. “She's had a rough twenty-four hours. Someone has tried to kill her twice.” He'd filled his brother in on the events of the past two days, and while Dylan still believed Sarah was no innocent bystander, he was at least beginning to believe that whatever she was involved in was bigger than her.

“Which is why going public is a good idea. We need to find out who has Caitlyn. And if Sarah is in danger, so is your daughter."

“I know,” Jake murmured, his gut clenching at the thought. “I can't stand not knowing where she is."

“How are you handling being with Sarah again?"

Jake couldn't even begin to answer that question. His conflict must have shown on his face, because Dylan's mouth was already turning down at the corners.

“She's getting to you, isn't she? I knew it,” Dylan said.

“Don't be an ass. She's not getting to me."

“I saw the way you looked at her when she got out of bed and stumbled. You almost reached for her. You wanted to help her."

“Reflex action,” Jake said, avoiding his brother's piercing gaze. Dylan had a way of seeing through people's walls. That was why he'd been able to see through Sarah. But right now Jake didn't want his brother analyzing him or his reactions to Sarah.

“You have a bad habit of wanting to rescue people,” Dylan said. “You spent half our childhood rescuing me, remember?"

“Yeah, well, someone had to. Look, she's not playing me, all right? I haven't forgotten what she did. But the situation is more complicated now. It's not just about Sarah walking out on me. There's a lot more at stake. Right before Sarah was attacked earlier, she told me that she dreamed she saw someone get shot. If she witnessed a murder, then that could be why someone is after her."