Out of Uniform

by Catherine Mann

  She reacted with her heart rather than her head, wanting to save Jacob from knowing. “Put the money back, Chase, and we can let this go.”

  With a snap of his head, he flicked a hank of walnut hair from his face. The defensive glint evaporated, a belligerent glare taking its place. “What money?”

  “I’m not stupid, so don’t act like I am. Put it back.”

  Chase sauntered forward. Smugness mushroomed from his every step like an insidious threat. “Even if there was money missing, how’s Jacob gonna know you didn’t take it?”

  He stopped almost toe-to-toe with her. The lobby suddenly seemed small…and deserted. Wind moaned through the eaves while Dee struggled not to flinch. How could she and Jacob both have misjudged this kid?

  Chase didn’t look much like a kid at the moment.

  The phone shrieked through the silence. They both twitched, but Chase didn’t budge.

  “Fine, Chase. We’ll play this your way.” She pivoted away to dismiss him, cowardly, maybe, but she wanted him out of the lobby. Now. She reached for the phone.

  His hand fell on her shoulder. Dee’s stomach lurched as if she’d taken a wrong turn off a mountain curve.

  Show no fear. Regardless of how he looked he was just a kid. Pull out the adult authority, put him in his place and get him out the door.

  Dee plastered her best “schoolmarm frown” in place and shrugged his hand loose. “Chase, step back.”

  His bravado slipped. Dee almost sagged with relief—until his eyes narrowed with a male arrogance meant to intimidate, insult.

  The phone stopped ringing.

  Where was the child who’d swung a shovel at snowballs? The boy who’d chased his girlfriend through the snow, the young man who held his baby tenderly?

  Chase ambled forward, forcing her to retreat until the backs of her legs pressed against the computer chair. He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant or in any way childish. “You have quite a rep around here thanks to all the gossip. No secrets in this town. People aren’t sure what to think of your whacky amnesia claim. You’re not in any position to be talking trash about me.”

  His eyes journeyed a slow drag down her body and back up again, lingering on strategic places.

  A shiver trickled down Dee’s spine like a melting icicle. Without another word, she pushed past him. Maybe she could lock herself in Jacob’s apartment. Chase’s hand snaked out. He grabbed her shirtfront.

  “Not so fast.” He twisted the fabric, yanking her forward. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  The chill iced all the way through her veins.

  Where do you think you’re going?

  His words echoed in her head, deeper pitched.

  Where do you think you’re going?

  A Midwestern twang sounded, rather than Chase’s local lilt.

  Fear gripped her tighter than Chase’s fist on her shirt. Dee’s feet tangled. The shirt pulled taut. Panic frothed, higher, higher still, until she screamed. Couldn’t stop screaming. “No!”

  “Calm down.” Chase eyed her warily. His hold on her still unrelenting, he shook her. “Don’t get wigged out or anything. Hey now—”

  —not so fast, growled the Midwesterner’s voice, a voice from her past.

  Dee jerked. Buttons popped from her shirt. She backed away, her steps clumsy and haphazard, until she slammed against the soda machine. Her teeth jarred. She slithered to the floor and huddled, teeth chattering.

  In her mind, other buttons popped loose. Coat buttons. She swallowed back the nausea and watched pearl buttons spiral across the tile until they blurred into larger, black buttons from her coat.

  You’re not going anywhere with my kid. I’ll kill him before I let you see him again, Deirdre.

  Pain slashed behind her eyes like a needle piercing her skin. White-hot, then frighteningly cold, like a deep sleep or even death. Through the pain emerged a suffocating gush of memories.

  She remembered her name.

  She remembered her child. Her son.

  Both of which might have been cause for rejoicing. Except nausea choked her as, God help her, she remembered her husband.

  Chapter 11

  J acob tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, eager to return to the Lodge, to Dee.

  The rescue operation had been canceled fifteen minutes out of Rockfish. The missing plane had simply been diverted because of weather. The pilot hadn’t closed out his flight plan, and the alert had gone up. Of course, ninety percent of all missing aircraft ended in the same sort of scenario, so Jacob wasn’t surprised. Just mildly annoyed at the waste of Civil Air Patrol time.

  And the lost evening with Dee, a chance to explore whatever had started changing between them.

  The urge to see her crept over him. A quick call to the Lodge to find Chase wouldn’t be out of line. Jacob pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and punched in the number. Five rings later, he disconnected. Why wasn’t Dee picking up? Could things be that swamped?

  He stared ahead at the approaching lodge and the lot looked sparse as usual. Jacob slowed, headlights sweeping ahead as he pulled in beside Chase’s vehicle. Emily would be glad for the extra time together. Jacob looked into the lobby, but didn’t see Dee behind the desk.

  Hmm…Odd. He opened the truck door.

  A muffled scream filtered through the Lodge window. Followed by another. Then unending pain-filled cries.

  Dee. Dread coldcocked him just before old instincts rammed into overdrive.

  His boots slammed to the icy pavement at a dead run. He skidded toward the motel office. A couple of doors down, Emily poked her head out of her suite of rooms.

  He vaulted up the steps two at a time, through the door and came chest-to-chest with Chase, who was leaving. “Chase? What’s going on?”

  Jacob didn’t wait for the answer as he sidestepped to find Dee. Her screams dwindled to a low whimper. She sat with her back against the soda machine, her arms locked around her knees, hands fisted so tightly they trembled. Her eyes stared wide and unfocused.

  “Dee?”

  She fell silent, gasping big hiccuping breaths. Footsteps filled the silence. Chase shuffled his feet. Emily skidded to a halt in the doorway. Jacob motioned silently for her to stay back.

  He approached Dee warily. She’d never looked so fragile, not even when the wind had swept her into the lobby for the first time.

  Why had he ever left her alone? “Chase, what the hell’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, man. She just freaked out.” Chase backed toward the door until he bumped into Emily, still waiting on the threshold. Jaw slack, she gawked at Dee.

  Jacob knelt beside her. He wanted to haul her into his arms and reassure himself she hadn’t been hurt. Not the smartest move at the moment.

  Go easy. “Dee, honey. Talk. You’re scaring me.”

  She turned those wide, wounded eyes to him, but didn’t seem to see him. Never once had he seen her lose it, not when she had a truckload of reasons for turning into a basket case. Something bad must have gone down. Suddenly he wasn’t too steady, either.

  “It’s okay. Just breathe.” Jacob stroked her hair, then tucked a knuckle under her chin. His hand bumped her fist—her fist clutching her torn shirt closed. Buttons littered the floor around her.

  An opaque curtain of denial fogged Jacob’s mind. No way. He couldn’t be seeing what he thought. But Chase had been running away from Dee, not toward her.

  Jacob scooped a button from the tile. “Chase?”

  The lanky teen glanced from the button, to Dee’s blouse and back to Jacob. Chase’s eyes widened. “Uh-uh. Not a chance. It’s not what you think. She flipped out, just the way I said. I tried to keep her from going outside without a coat. That’s how her shirt got ripped.”

  “Then why were you running away when I got here?”

  Chase hesitated. “Uh, I saw you drive up.”

  Jacob wanted to believe him, but his instincts clamored that Chase wasn’t telling everything—shuffling fe
et, refusal to make eye contact, all the typical signs of lying. Jacob’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to wrap his mind around the possibility that Chase had assaulted Dee, or even tried.

  A glance at Dee told him she was still out of it. He needed answers from Chase before he could help her. Jacob pinned Chase with an interrogator’s gaze and continued smoothing a hand along Dee’s hair. “Be straight with me now, or you can talk to the police.”

  Emily gasped, stepping forward. Jacob kept his eyes on Chase but directed his words toward his sister. “Emily, go back to your room and take care of Madison.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wave the nursery monitor but didn’t advance deeper inside.

  “Police?” Chase eyed the door hungrily. “I didn’t do anything to her. She’s just acting or something. Come on, man, you know me. Who’s she, anyway, huh? Just some nutcase claiming she has amnesia.”

  “Enough.” Jacob sliced the air with his hand. “Last chance, Chase. The truth.”

  “Okay.” The teen fidgeted, gulped, tugged at his sagging pants and gulped again. “I hate to tell you this, but when I got here, I found her taking a stack of money out of your cash drawer.”

  Jacob’s hand stilled. His mind turned white-hot. For all of two seconds. Then reason kicked in. Dee wouldn’t steal from him. He wished he could attribute the surety to trust, but logic had saved him from the test. If cleaning him out had been her plan, she could have done so a hundred times over. She was the type who turned over pocket change found in linens while cleaning.

  But what about Chase? Jacob could see it in the boy’s eyes, and the realization made him sick for Emily. He resumed stroking Dee’s hair while he studied the signs of guilt stamped all over Chase.

  The kid had stolen from him. Jacob swallowed the bilious sting of disappointment. “Empty your pockets.”

  “What?”

  “Jacob?” Emily sidled toward Chase. “You can’t really think—”

  “Now, Chase.” A cool core of certainty congealed in him. “If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize. But I’m going to get her side of the story as soon as she calms down.”

  Chase eyed the door again.

  Emily gripped the arm of Chase’s jacket. “Prove him wrong. Please.”

  Chase shrugged free. He jammed his hand into his pocket and whipped out a stack of folded twenty-dollar bills. He didn’t even bother making excuses.

  “No, Chase.” Emily’s chin quivered as the nursery monitor hummed in her hand.

  “Fine.” Chase slammed the wad of cash on the counter. “I didn’t walk out of here with it, so there’s not a damned thing you can do to me.”

  Jacob stared at the money and focused on the feel of Dee’s hair beneath his hand. When would the anger hit him? Logic told him that’s how he should feel. Instead he’d gone numb. Probably for the best, since he had to take care of the mess with Chase and deal with Dee. “Sit down, Chase.”

  “No way, I’m—”

  “Sit,” Jacob snapped.

  Chase dropped onto the sofa. What had Emily seen in this guy? An escape from Clyde? Or more likely choosing Chase because he was surely the sort who would tweak the old man’s nose at every turn.

  Jacob relaxed his jaw, lowered his tensed shoulders and regained control. He needed to distance himself from everything, all of them. Emotions clouded judgment.

  He turned his attention back to Dee and cupped her face in his hands without allowing himself to savor the softness of her skin. “Snap out of it, Dee. You need to talk to me, or we’re heading to the hospital.”

  Her eyes widened, then cleared. “Jacob?”

  “Yeah, Dee.” Relief taunted him, so close. “Are you okay? Are you…hurt?”

  “I remember everything.” Her eyes deepened, darkened, assumed a different quality.

  The look of a different woman. The real Dee.

  Dee? Hell, he didn’t even know her name.

  But she’d remembered. He should be happy. He’d worked with her for this moment, yet somehow wasn’t ready. Maybe because he knew this was it. Now she would leave.

  His hands slid from her face as he let her go. “Tell me.”

  “I remember my child…and my husband. He took my son, Jacob. He stole my baby.”

  Deirdre fingered her “Dee” necklace as she waited for the county police. She’d never so much as logged a speeding ticket in her life, yet lately she’d talked to the cops on a regular basis like some criminal. Like her husband. Thanks to her husband.

  The metal chilled in her hand. Her son had given her the necklace for Christmas. He’d bought it at a preschool Santa’s Gift Shop for students to choose gifts for parents.

  Memories she’d chased so vigilantly hurt. Even the beautiful ones stung because of all she’d lost.

  Jacob stepped into the lobby, leaving Emily and Chase in the next room—silent—with the door open, waiting to make their statements when the police arrived. Dee didn’t care if Jacob pressed charges for her sake, but she didn’t blame him for drawing the line at stealing. Chase had been trusted here.

  He tossed her a blue Air Force sweatshirt.

  “Thank you.” At least she could quit worrying about clutching her buttonless blouse closed. Still she mourned the loss of her pretty flowered shirt, her first gift from Jacob.

  As she tugged the sweatshirt over her head, Jacob’s scent, his warmth, enveloped her, tempting her to seek the real thing. She had to face the world on her own sometime. Dee whipped her hair free of neckline and took what consolation she could from the generous folds of cotton fleece.

  Why wouldn’t he step away from the counter and sit by her, comfort her in that sturdy way of his? In a flash of insight she understood. Because he didn’t know her anymore. While she didn’t feel any different, Jacob saw a stranger.

  It was a night full of losses. So she introduced herself to this man she’d known just under two weeks, a lifetime in itself for Dee Smith.

  “My name is Deirdre Lambert. I’m from Reno, Nevada.” How strange to say that after not knowing so long. How could she ever have forgotten? She hadn’t. It had been stolen from her as surely as Chase had taken that money. As the man she’d married had stolen her child.

  Humiliation swamped her as she forced herself to tell Jacob the rest. “The Mr. Smith who checked me in was my husband—”

  Jacob’s fists clenched, the first visible reaction she’d seen from him since Chase had slapped the money on the counter. Could it be jealousy? What should have given her a tiny rush merely saddened her. They’d found the attraction tough enough before, and now her life had snarled into a bigger tangle.

  “My ex-husband.” She threaded her fingers through her hair and mashed the heels of her hands against her temples. “Maybe I’d better back up. There are just so many images crowding my brain, so many thoughts and memories and moments to relive. I feel like I’m in sensory overload.”

  Dee slumped back on the sofa. Still Jacob stood, unmoving. Maybe it was better they didn’t touch. She might shatter like a brittle icicle.

  “Blane, my ex-husband, worked for a company that manufactured airplane parts.” She tucked her knees up under the overlong sweatshirt as if to insulate herself with Jacob’s innate strength. “His partner was convicted of knowingly selling substandard parts to companies under contract to build military aircraft. After coming across some papers in our old files, I started to suspect Blane might have been involved, too.”

  Now she understood why she winced every time anything military crossed her path. She feared for the people who could be in danger. She couldn’t shake the shame over not having somehow known and stopped her husband.

  Finally Jacob pushed away from the counter to sit beside her. “And that’s when you left him?”

  “Actually we divorced a year ago.” Blane had been cheating on her with a woman at work.

  Dee wondered now how she’d missed the signs for so long. She cringed to think of how she, too, had been caught up in the seeming security
of materialism in those days. She wanted much simpler things for herself and her son now.

  Jacob’s warm body waited inches away, but his gaze stayed focused on the picture of Mount Rainier over the fireplace. Not that she could accept any sympathy from him. He demanded such perfection from himself, how could he ever understand, much less condone how badly she’d screwed up?

  “I found out he’d been cheating on me, not some fling even, but a long-term relationship.” So much for pride. Blane had trounced hers like grapes in a wine vat, and the product had been beyond bitter.

  “I’m sorry.” Jacob transferred his gaze to his hands clasped loosely between his knees.

  “Blane didn’t contest the divorce. I obviously didn’t mean that much to him, but he wanted sole custody of our son.”

  Losing Evan was beyond bearing. She certainly understood that all too well. “I fought him and we ended up with shared custody. Once I found out about his illegal dealings, I got scared for Evan. I knew I didn’t have any choice but to go to the police. I was only a day away from turning him in.” She started shaking again. “Somehow he must have figured out—from my expression, or maybe I wasn’t as subtle in probing for information as I thought.”

  Jacob’s face hardened. “He decided to shut you up.”

  She nodded, still hardly able to grasp that he would hurt her deliberately. Believing he could be capable of stealing had torn a hole in her heart. Discovering he could actually try to kill her…She could still hardly grasp what had happened. The ultimate betrayal by a man she’d once thought she loved. “Blane came by my condo, calm as ever. He had something for Evan in the Suburban, a present for Evan’s fourth birthday since Blane would be traveling for work.”

  Her mind flashed with so many kaleidoscope memories. Evan clutching his favorite blanket with quilted airplane squares, the edges now ragged. Blane’s earnest blue eyes, so like Evan’s.

  How could the father of her precious baby boy be totally bad? Surely his love for Evan was one pure part left in Blane, a symbol of what had been good in their marriage. “A little voice deep inside me whispered that he was up to something, but Evan wanted his toy and Blane. I needed to believe there was something honest left inside him. Do you know what I mean?”