by Pat White
“I understand. How long have you been married?”
“Five years,” she answered without skipping a beat.
“And you live where?”
“Exeter, New Hampshire.”
Sean gritted his teeth. She remembered where Raymond kept her locked up as his pet genius. God, it was coming back.
“And what are you folks doing here?” the rookie asked.
“Actually, we were checking out spots for our second honeymoon and we got lost.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry, honey. I forgot. You never get lost.”
She leaned into Sean’s chest and his body tensed.
“These winding roads are hard to navigate,” the cop said.
She smiled at him and Sean fisted his hand. In the last forty-eight hours, she hadn’t come close to smiling like that at Sean.
“Just the same, you shouldn’t be driving without a license,” the cop said. “I’m going to have to ask you to come to the station and fill out a report.”
Something flashed in the kid’s eyes. There was a lot more happening than a rookie trying to help out tourists.
“I’m tired. Can’t we just go home?” she said, taking Sean’s arm and yawning.
“It won’t take long, ma’am,” the cop said. “Why don’t you come in the squad car? I wouldn’t want you to get lost again.”
The kid was cool for a rookie. He obviously needed to bring them in, but wanted to do it with the least amount of resistance. The helpful cop act wasn’t a bad approach. It had worked on more than one occasion for Sean.
He led them to the patrol car and opened the back door. She glanced at Sean and slid into the backseat. This was it. Sean coughed, then fell to his knees.
“Sir?” The rookie leaned over to check on him.
He elbowed the kid in the ribs and took him down with a choke hold.
“I don’t want to hurt you, kid, so just tell me what this is really about.”
“Let go!” the rookie gasped, clawing at Sean’s forearm. “I’m a cop!”
“And a pretty good one. But I’ve been one longer. So let’s have it.”
The kid bucked and thrashed, but wouldn’t give up. Sean applied a little more pressure and the kid passed out.
“Annie, get out of there.”
She slid out. “What do we do now?”
Sean cuffed the rookie and dumped him in the backseat.
“We figure out why he really pulled us over.” He fingered the paperwork sitting on the front seat and froze.
“Hell.”
“What?” She came up behind him. “That’s me. Why do they have my picture?”
He scanned the highlights of the bulletin. Zinkerman had been murdered. Suspect: Mary MacNeil, age 27, dark hair, blue eyes, former patient at Appleton. That explained why Zinkerman hadn’t shown up at Appleton earlier.
Annie’s cheeks paled. With an arm around her shoulder, he led her back to the car.
“They think I killed him?” she squeaked.
“Hatch must have set this up.” He eased her into the front seat.
“I’m getting sick of all this.” She balled her hands into fists in her lap.
“I know, honey.” He clicked her seat belt into place and slid a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. Damn, he wanted to take her in his arms, hold her, warm her until the emptiness in her eyes was replaced by joy.
Right, and who was he kidding?
Marching to his side of the car, he wondered who had really killed Zinkerman. He had to admit it was a clever plan, a way to make it nearly impossible for Annie and Sean to escape.
He slid behind the wheel and tore off in anger. Not smart. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself.
He glanced at Annie. She stared out the window as if she didn’t know where she was.
“Annie, you okay?”
“Peachy.” She shot him a fake smile.
His chest ached at the defeat coloring her pale blue eyes.
“We’ve gotta ditch the car. They’ve got a description of it in the fax. They’ve also described me as your companion. We may have to split up.”
“No.”
She didn’t sound happy about it. He couldn’t blame her.
“You’re going to have to change your appearance,” he said.
“Great, I always wanted to be a blonde.”
Annie stared out the window, more frustrated than ever. She was wanted for murder? And why should they believe anything she said? She hadn’t even been able to remember her own name until Sean had called it out to her.
If she could remember, she could make sense of it all and get some power back. Then, maybe, she would finally be free. That is, if they didn’t lock her up for Zinkerman’s murder.
“Who do you think killed him?” she said.
“Not sure. The same person who set him up at Appleton? Zinkerman failed to keep you under his control. That was his job.”
“He’s dead because of me,” she said.
“Not because of you. He chose his job, Annie. It’s a dangerous business.”
“I want no part of it! Cripes, it’s bad enough that I awakened from a coma with no memory, that I had to learn to talk and write and eat all over again, but now they think I killed someone. I’m being chased by cops and killers and I can’t trust anybody, even you, because you don’t really care about me and yet I think I care about you, but I shouldn’t care about you because you used me and…argh!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I want pizza or nachos or cookies.”
“O-kay,” he said with a smile.
“I sound like an idiot.” She closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the seat.
“You sound scared.” He paused. “And hungry.”
She turned and opened her eyes. “You almost made me smile.”
“Almost? I was hoping for a full-blown, round-cheeked smile, like the one you gave that cop back there.”
“That was my one smile for the day.”
“Too bad.”
“Don’t you feel daunted by all this?” she said.
“Nope. They’re smart but we’re smarter. I’ve got a bona fide genius in my car.”
“I don’t feel very smart,” she said. “I’m terrified.”
He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Heat raced down her arm and danced in her belly. She couldn’t even take innocent comfort from this man without her body lighting on fire.
But it wasn’t just physical. She wished for her memory back, so she could make sense of her connection to Sean. Maybe she could help him heal from his abused childhood and accept that he was capable of loving.
Loving her.
What on earth was she thinking about now? He wasn’t a part of her life and never would be. He’d made it clear he didn’t need anyone, that he was destined to be alone.
But Annie sensed those words were spoken by a hurt child who lived inside a damaged man. All he needed was someone to reach out to him, to help him realize it wasn’t his fault.
She truly was losing her mind. Five hours ago, she wanted to skip out on the guy. But after the conversation in the forest, she realized Sean was driven by a painful childhood. To think that his own mother didn’t protect her son. That she let everything happen around her.
Kind of like me, Annie thought, a feeling of helplessness drifting over her. She remembered going through the motions before, but never really feeling anything. She lived a placid existence, standing outside the bubble of happiness, looking in, but not really feeling.
“Are you remembering something?” he asked.
She glanced at him.
“You got this look on your face,” he said. “You used to get that same look when a research project was frustrating the hell out of you.”
“Did I like my research?”
“It was your life.”
“Didn’t that seem odd to you? That a woman of my age would only be interested in lab experiments?”
“I figured it was what you wanted. If yo
u weren’t happy, you could have done something about it. Everyone has the power to make choices.”
“Not necessarily.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
She fidgeted under his scrutiny. She crossed her arms over her chest wondering when they’d both give in and consummate their desire. It was only a matter of time.
They drove a few hours in silence through land rich with pine trees and rolling hills. She struggled against hopelessness that wormed its way into her brain. Her damn brain had started all this. If only she’d been like the other girls, if only she hadn’t been smart.
You’ve got a talent for figuring things out that no one else can. It’s a gift. Don’t turn your back on it.
Sean’s words. Such wisdom and strength from a man who considered himself one step away from being a monster, but she knew differently. Beneath that tortured soul was a kind man.
“There.” He pointed to a lake ahead.
“Are we going swimming?”
“No, but the car is.”
“I guess this means we’re walking.”
“To a campground on the other side of the lake. That’s where the cabin is. Think you can make it?”
“I guess.” Her hip ached in anticipation.
“It’s not far. I’d rented a cabin for a week, just in case.”
“Just in case?”
“Always have a plan B. I’ve also got an old truck waiting for us.” He parked the car between a thick mass of trees. “I got everything we need in the cabin.”
“Food?”
“Yep.”
“Cookies? I’d walk a mile for a cookie.”
A smile curled the corner of his lips. It fascinated her.
“Come on.” He got out of the car and stuffed his pack with supplies from the trunk.
He shifted the car into neutral, and they rolled it into the lake. The car sank into the black mass. Just like that. Erased. As if it had never existed. Kind of like her mind.
“Let’s go.” He took her hand.
She followed, glancing at their intertwined fingers. If she concentrated on the warmth of his skin, she could block out the fear stalking the recesses of her mind. His hand was firm and solid, and she drew strength from it. Strength she needed to get her to the next step of this nightmare, closer to Mom.
But it wasn’t that simple anymore. Now she had to clear her name before she could contact her mother.
They walked. And walked some more. It felt like forever as he shifted his arm around her waist to steady her. They finally approached the perimeter of a campground and he hesitated, taking her hands in his.
“Wait here. I’m going to check out the cabin to make sure it’s safe.” He handed her his cell phone. “Just in case. I should be back in twenty.”
“You said that this morning, and I ended up having to come get you.”
“Do not, I repeat, do not come to my rescue this time. Got it?” His eyes flared.
“Hey, you’re welcome for saving your butt.”
“We were lucky. Promise me if I don’t come back, you’ll get the hell out of here.”
“And abandon my husband?”
“Look, Annie,” he started to argue. “Never mind.”
He started for the cabin. Panic coiled in her tummy.
“Sean?” she whispered after him.
“Yeah?”
She wanted to call out “be careful” or “don’t take any chances” or “I love you.”
She was completely losing it.
“If you happen to snare a hot dog on your way back, I’d be eternally grateful.”
He nodded and disappeared down the trail.
Slumping to a cross-legged position on the ground, she fingered a pinecone. She couldn’t love Sean. Not really. She just depended on him for her life. There was a clinical term for that.
“Oh, stop thinking like a scientist,” she muttered.
There was something real between them. There had to be. After all, he’d saved her from the assassin, broken into Appleton to get her meds and gone against orders to bring her in, all because he wanted to keep her safe.
Then again, that was his job. Drat.
Staring into the distance, she willed her memory to return.
Images, tastes, smells flared. Sean.
I never thought I could feel this way. Sean’s deep, gentle voice.
I love you, Sean.
Just hold me. Make me know it’s real.
I’m real. I love you.
The bittersweet taste of merlot on his lips. The scent of his maleness. The feel of his arousal pressing against the bare flesh of her thigh.
“Hey!”
She jumped at the sound of his voice.
“You scared me!” She sprung to her feet.
He put his hand to her shoulder. “You okay? Your cheeks are flushed.”
She wanted him to move his hand down, below her jawline, her neck. Beneath her shirt.
“Annie? What is it?”
Her legs felt like oatmeal. “I was just remembering.” And lusting.
“What?”
“Nothing important.”
“Let’s get to the cabin,” he said. “It’s on a back lot, secluded.” He took her hand and led her through the darkness along the lake.
“Cabins don’t have indoor plumbing, but they’ve got showers by the ranger station,” he said. “I could use one of those.”
Sean. Naked. Lathering his lightly haired chest with soap. Running his hands across his stomach and down, washing himself, touching himself.
She stumbled.
“Hey, careful.” He steadied her with a hand to her elbow. “The cabin’s beyond that clearing.”
He kept walking and she was glad he couldn’t see her eyes in the darkness. But she wished she could figure out if his words were real or scripted to get close to her and get answers about a mysterious formula.
They approached the cabin, and he shoved a key into the lock. The door opened with a creak and he flicked the light switch.
“There’s canned food in the cabinet over there, maybe even cookies.”
She just looked at him.
“I thought you were hungry,” he said.
“I am, I was, I…”
He went to her and cupped her shoulders. “What is it?”
“You’re going to hurt me again, aren’t you?”
Chapter Ten
His chest ached as he let his hands slip from her shoulders. She’d figured it out. Would she run again? He went back to unloading his backpack. He should be relieved that she was wise to him. Instead, he couldn’t bear to look at her.
“Sean?”
“Let’s get unpacked.”
“But—”
He closed the distance between them, but didn’t touch her. He couldn’t touch her again. “Look, we’ve got cops and killers on our tails. You should be focusing on changing your appearance and saving your skin, not remembering us, me, whatever.”
“You care about me.”
“I can’t afford to care, not like that. If I do, I’ll lose my focus and won’t be able to protect you.”
“That’s what happened before, isn’t it?” she said. “I cared too much and you…couldn’t allow yourself to care?”
“Please, Annie, we’re hungry and tired, and I just can’t do this right now.”
He turned and she touched his arm. He thought he’d go mad.
“Promise that you won’t hurt me again?” she said.
He sighed. “I promise.”
What else could he say? If he had to lie to keep her safe, so be it.
“Let’s get started on your hair.” He pulled supplies from the wooden bureau next to the bed. Scissors, hair color, a comb. He’d stocked the cabin with essentials in case they had to come here.
They should have been sailing away on the Minerva by now. But he couldn’t risk it. The FBI mole had most likely leaked the location of the boat to Hatch, who would have
men waiting for them. Sean hadn’t told anyone about the rental cabin back-up plan. He and Annie would be safe, for the time being.
Grabbing the scissors and a towel, he led her to the porch. He fingered her hair, silky soft, brown with hint of copper.
“Lean against the railing.” He draped her shoulders with the grayed towel and secured it in front with a tight fold. “Ready?”
He snapped the scissors three times as a warm-up.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Piece of cake. I moonlight as a hairstylist.”
She smirked. Well, at last it wasn’t a glare of hatred.
He started on the right, pulling her hair straight down and snipping away with the sharp scissors. Truth was, he’d done this before for his baby sister and had gotten pretty good at it. Four inches of brown hair fell to the wooden porch. She squeaked and shifted to her other foot.
“Stop fidgeting,” he said.
“Couldn’t I just put it up?”
“Too late. I’ve cut one side. Can’t have you going around lopsided. That would definitely attract attention.”
Another squeak escaped her lips.
He cut straight across the back and around to the left side.
“Almost done.” His fingers brushed against her neck. Her skin felt so warm against his knuckles.
He finished the blunt cut just above her shoulders and stepped around to face her. “How about bangs?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Would be a completely different look for you.”
“Yeah, I’ll look like I’m twelve.”
“Not with a little eye makeup. I’ve got some of that, too.”
“I’ll look like a twelve-year-old delinquent.”
“Have a little faith.”
He combed her bangs down over her forehead.
“What was Raymond like?” she asked.
It was a good thing she couldn’t see his eyes. “He’s rich and powerful.” He sandwiched a section of hair between two fingers.
“You don’t like him?” she said.
He snipped at her bangs, making a straight line across her forehead.
“Not especially.”
“Why?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t trust you,” she shot back.
“Yet you’re letting me cut your hair,” he joked.
