by Lisa Childs
And if so, then she could be strong now. Strong enough to leave the man she loved in order to save him.
She crept across the stainless-steel catwalk, which would have been more appropriate in a warehouse, to the room where Christopher slept. His black curls crushed on the pillow, he snuggled deep into the bed, totally relaxed.
Even in his sleep, Evan had not relaxed. She had watched him for a while, looking for any hint of vulnerability. The man had none, or so she had thought until she’d verbally lashed out at him. Then she’d seen the hurt and how deep it ran.
Would he ever forgive her for not telling him about his son? Would he be able to if she left him their son? Christopher would be safer with his father than he’d ever be with her while Weering ran free.
Could she leave them both and survive the pain?
The mere thought of walking away from them filled her with agony, weakening her knees so that she slumped to the bedroom floor. But she had no time for self-pity.
She was the strong Amanda. She could do this. All she needed were a few things and a place to stay.
She regained her feet and rushed back to Evan’s bedroom, her gaze falling across the rumpled bed where they’d found pleasure again and again in the night in each other’s arms. Her love for him and Christopher would keep her strong, would remind her that she was doing the right thing.
She had to leave before anyone else got hurt.
Because of the early hour, she dialed the number for Mr. Sullivan’s cell phone and got voice mail. She left a message with Evan’s number, begging that he call her back as soon as possible.
Then she quietly searched the house for the things from her van that Evan had said the security team had unpacked yesterday when he’d taken her to the hospital. In the bedroom across the hall from Christopher, she found her sad assortment of crumpled cardboard boxes and garbage bags. She had no luggage. She’d had nothing to pack after the attack and no place to go.
The only thing that didn’t appear bedraggled and pathetic was the garment bag for the last wedding dress she’d altered and should have returned to the bridal shop by now.
Regret sighed out of her. She had worked with this bride, altering the dress to fit more than the young woman’s measurements. The girl had wanted something simpler, more elegant than what had been available in the store.
This was more than an altering job. It was a designer dress. And as an image of her own wedding album flashed into her mind, Amanda realized the image she had designed it to fit was her memory.
Suppressed, not erased.
Hope flickered but she extinguished it. Remembering the past would do her no good, just give her more to regret leaving. Again.
And there was another memory. She had regretted leaving Evan. Perhaps she’d even been determined to return when Weering had attacked her. When he’d destroyed her life then, as he would now, this time without ever touching her.
With trembling fingers she unzipped the bag, white silk and lace spilling out, caressing her skin, reminding her how it once had when she’d worn it on her wedding day.
On a whim, maybe hoping for confirmation of the memories that teased her subconscious, she tugged off yesterday’s clothes that she’d pulled on when Evan had left their bed and she zipped herself into that wedding dress, the square neckline baring some of her shoulders and the upper curve of her breasts—breasts that ached for Evan’s touch.
Had that been what she yearned for on her wedding day? Her wedding night and her lover’s knowledgeable caress?
Desire burned deep inside her. Even after last night and all the times they’d reached for each other, she wanted him again.
From across the catwalk, the bedroom phone jangled. Careful of the full skirt and trailing train, she rushed to answer it. “Hello?”
“Amanda?”
“Mr. Sullivan.”
“Are you all right?”
His concern assured her she had called the right person for help. Still, she would have preferred Evan’s, but she couldn’t risk his safety anymore. Or Christopher’s.
When she had first learned of Weering’s release, she hadn’t been willing to trust the district attorney’s office for protection, not when the safety of her child was at risk, too. But now, to remove him from danger, she was willing to put herself at risk.
“Yes, for now. But I need your help.”
“Anything.”
His easy acquiescence summoned the memory of Evan’s secretary watching him drive away. Despite their age difference, did Mr. Sullivan have more interest in her than a district attorney for a victim?
She hoped not. She had hurt enough people already. “I need a place to stay. A new identity. I need to get lost from Weering and from my husband.”
“Has he threatened you, Amanda?”
“Weering, yes, of course. I told you—”
“Your husband, Amanda.”
“Of course not. But he’s nearly gotten killed over me. And I’m afraid that if I stay here, he will get killed or someone he cares about will. He’s a wonderful man, Mr. Sullivan, and his friends are nice people. I can’t stay here and have my presence put them all in danger.”
“There’s an APB out on Weering, Amanda, in Winter Falls and here in River City. We’re going to bring him in.”
She laughed without any humor and the heavy dress dragged at her quivering shoulders. “For questioning. You don’t have anything to hold him. No eyewitnesses this time. All Evan and I saw was a man in a ski mask and dark clothes. We couldn’t identify him. It wouldn’t hold up in court.”
She might lie to put the animal away, but Evan wouldn’t. He was too honorable.
The D.A. sighed. “You know the system too well, Amanda.”
“And so does Weering. He knows he’s above it or he can buy his way out of it—”
“We can get him this time, Amanda. Your husband’s a powerful man—”
“Alive. But dead he’ll be just as helpless as I am. I need to get out of here. Can you find me a place to stay?”
“You and Christopher?”
Pain tore at her heart, a mother’s heart bleeding for her child. “No, just me.”
“Amanda…”
“It’s what’s best for everyone. He’ll be safe with his father. They’ll both be safe if I’m gone. Help me. Please.”
The D.A. sighed. “I’ll see what I can do and call you back.”
“Thank you.”
She kept the cordless in her hand as she walked back across the catwalk, intending to strip off the wedding gown and return it to the garment bag.
Outside the two-story windows the sun rose higher in the sky, reflecting off the lake below it. On the upper level, she could see above the tops of the trees that lined the hillside as it dropped down to the beach. The water stretched out endlessly, glittering in the early-morning sun.
As she paused to drink in the awesome sight, the phone jangled against her palm. She lifted it to her ear. “That was fast.”
“Not at all, Amanda, in fact it’s taken much too long. But I’m close now, so very, very close.”
The voice jolted through her, filling her with fear and the phone shook in her hand.
“Remember me, Amanda?”
Chapter Ten
Evan nodded at one of Dylan’s deputies and stepped over the police tape at the end of the public dock. “He’s been waiting for you,” Deputy Jones said, gesturing down to where the sheriff stood near a tied-up fishing vessel.
Royce and the coroner stood near the lawman. “He’s only been dead a couple of hours, Sheriff,” the medical examiner estimated.
As Evan approached them, he peered over their hunched shoulders to find a body on the dock. A gray-haired man lay on his side in a puddle of thick blood, empty eye sockets gaping back at those who stared at him.
Horror and rage surged through Evan. “It was Weering. No doubt about it.”
Royce nodded grimly while Dylan jotted down a couple of notes.
&nb
sp; “Who was he?” Evan asked.
Royce shrugged while Dylan answered without looking up, “One of old Sheriff Buck’s friends. A retired schoolteacher. Good guy. Probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“He saw Weering.”
“Only person who has so far in Winter Falls.” Dylan sighed and slapped his pad closed. Then he nodded to the coroner, letting the man take the body away.
“Did you find the murder weapon?” Evan asked.
“Fishing fillet knife was the doc’s guess. Gone.”
Knives were easy to find, especially in a fishing town. But still, knowing Weering was armed already…
“I’ve gotta get back to Amanda and Christopher.” Fear for their safety made him want to race back to his car and then race it back to the house.
Dylan caught his arm, his grasp firm. “This guy’s extremely dangerous, Evan.”
Evan shook off his brother-in-law’s grip and his concern. “Tell me something I don’t know. This isn’t his first victim, Dylan.”
And neither, probably, was Amanda. “Royce, have you turned up anything to link him to other crimes? Any evidence?”
Royce sighed and ran a hand over his weary face. “I’ve been working on it, Evan, working with agents I know. We’ll turn it up.”
But he didn’t guarantee that it would be in time. Royce knew better than to make those kinds of promises.
But Evan had promised Amanda that she was safe. Had he lied?
“There’s more,” Dylan said.
“What?”
“The killer took more than the knife. He took the boat that the victim has had permission to use. It would usually be docked here.”
“The boat’s gone?”
“Yeah, it was Buck’s.” Buck Adams was the retired sheriff of Winter Falls and Dylan’s longtime mentor. “The old friends were meeting here to go fishing.”
“Buck’s all right?”
Dylan’s sigh was full of relief. “Yeah, he’s fine. He was late, but early enough to find the body. He also found some money, a lot of money, lying on the body. It’s already in an evidence bag on its way to the crime lab.”
Evan doubted they’d be able to trace it to Weering. Despite his madness, the killer was too smart to be caught like that. “So he tried to buy the boat. He thinks everything and everyone’s for sale.”
Dylan shook his head. “He’ll find that’s not true in Winter Falls, Evan. This is a good town.”
Evan nodded. “Yeah, but there are always a few who can be bought.” Alone, Weering was too dangerous, but with help…
“Buck didn’t have a gun or anything in his boat, did he?” Evan thought to ask.
“Of course not.”
But Weering didn’t use a gun. Shooting a victim wasn’t painful enough, not personal or vicious enough. He enjoyed torture. Half his pleasure coming from the mental death of his victim, the other half the physical death.
“You have to find him. I have to get home now!” Because with the boat, Weering now had water access. If he could get past the gate and the guard at the beach, he could get to Amanda.
Evan prayed he would get home in time.
AMANDA KNEW HIS VOICE and not just from his television interview or from when she had visited him in prison that once or even from the courtroom. She remembered it reaching out to her from the darkness, wrapping around her, as she lay trapped. Scared. Alone. Praying for Evan to save her.
Then the sunshine blinded her, pain lancing through her head, and the memory was blessedly gone.
But still the voice purred in her ear. “Amanda, are you there?”
Silence was her only response.
He chuckled. “Of course, you are. I can see you. You look gorgeous in that wedding gown. Are you wearing that for me? Will you be my bride, Amanda?”
He could see her. Taunting her. Playing with her.
Where the hell was he?
In the house with her? With Christopher?
She whirled around, checking every doorway for someone watching her with one eye, the other scarred and blind.
No, Evan had assured her that she would be safe here. She had seen the guard at the gate. He couldn’t be inside.
He couldn’t.
Weering chuckled again, obviously delighted at scaring her.
She couldn’t let him win. She couldn’t be his victim again. “I’m already someone’s wife,” she managed to say.
His laughter evaporated. “But that doesn’t count, Amanda. You don’t remember him. I took your memory away. You only know what I’ve let you know.”
Control. He wanted it over every aspect of her life. And she had let him think he had it. She had given it to him. But no more.
She gazed over the railing, down the tree-lined hill to the water. Out on the cresting waves a boat bobbed. Was he there? Far enough away to not touch her physically, just mentally?
He had stolen her memory once. She wouldn’t let him do it again. “I’m remembering now. I’m remembering everything.”
“You lying bitch!”
“No, it’s true.” She continued, her voice growing stronger. “Yesterday, after seeing you in the woods, I saw another shrink, a good one. He thinks it’s just a mental block that I put there. So I can take it away…when I want to, when I’m ready, when I’m strong enough—”
“Shut up!”
“And I’m strong enough now—”
“You’re going to be dead soon, Amanda. The dying are never strong. They’re weak and helpless. They beg for their lives. You’ll beg, Amanda. You’ll beg to be my bride, so that I’ll let you live just a little longer. Just long enough to consummate our vows, my darling. You’ll beg…”
From somewhere she summoned the courage to laugh at him. “I’d rather die.”
Then she clicked the phone off, breaking her connection to him. But she still felt his rage at her impudence.
What had she done? Had she enraged him so that he would act too quickly, before she could get away and get Christopher and Evan out of danger?
Her trembling legs carried her to the doorway of the room where Christopher slept soundly, completely oblivious to the danger his mother had just put him in. “I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.”
For the danger. And for having to leave him. But William Weering had given her no choice. He wouldn’t give up and she couldn’t risk her loved ones.
She backed from her son’s room, closing the door behind herself. At the sound of a footstep on the stairwell, she whirled around, still clad in the bulky wedding gown.
What if he hadn’t been on the boat?
How close had he been? Inside?
Desperate for a weapon she glanced around, grabbing up a heavy steel sculpture from the hall table. With it raised above her head, she approached the stairwell.
But instead of pale blond hair, the person climbing the steps had black. Not short like Evan’s and Christopher’s, but just as shiny. The woman, catching sight of Amanda’s attack posture, staggered back against the railing. “Hey, take it easy!”
Dark eyes widened in an alabaster complexion as the woman drank in Amanda’s whole bizarre appearance. Simultaneously, Amanda realized who the stranger was.
The wedding gown and the weapon were not the attire Amanda would have chosen for her first meeting with her sister-in-law. Because of her resemblance to Evan, Amanda had no doubt that this was Evan’s sister, but a memory teased her subconscious. She had assumed Evan was an only child. But yesterday this woman’s husband and Evan had talked about her, Lindsey.
Amanda lowered the sculpture, her arms trembling with leftover adrenaline from her verbal run-in with Weering. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…someone else.”
“Evan?” The woman’s tone was sharp, her dark eyes full of suspicion.
Amanda gasped. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t hurt him.”
Liar.
She cursed herself for hurting him just that morning with her resentful words and her absurd accusations. “You must
be Lindsey, his sister, right? And I’m his wife.” His wife. She was surprised by how naturally the words rolled off her lips.
“So you’ve remembered?” The suspicion didn’t leave the dark eyes that burned with resentment, also.
Amanda sighed. “Not really, but I believe him. He showed me things.”
Under the other woman’s intense scrutiny, Amanda’s face flamed and she rushed to clarify, “Our marriage license. Our wedding albums.”
“So that explains the dress. Thought you’d try it on to jog your memory.”
“No, I made this…for someone else.”
“I’ve seen those albums, too. It looks like the one you wore.” Lindsey noticed.
“That’s what I thought, too. That’s why I put it on. But I really need to take it off now and pack it away. I didn’t intend to keep it on, but the phone rang…”
Lindsey stepped closer.
She shuddered. “He called.”
“He? Him? That guy who attacked you and that the stupid politicians released?” Rage replaced the suspicion. “But how? Evan’s number is unlisted.”
“Unlisted?”
“Yeah, you see how he values his privacy, how he wants to keep people out. This house is a fortress. So since his number is unlisted, how the hell—”
“Money. Power.” Dread rolled through Amanda’s stomach. “He can find a way. He’ll always find a way to get to me.”
That was why she had to leave. To protect those she loved and that Evan loved. Their safety was much more important than hers.
“He can’t get to you now. Not with Evan standing in the way,” Lindsey said. Then fear flashed in those dark eyes. Evan’s sister had come to the same conclusion that Amanda had. If she stayed, he would get hurt.
“I—I need to change—” Amanda started.
“And I need to call my husband.”
“The sheriff. I met him. I truly appreciate all he and your friends, Royce and Sarah and Jeremy, have done for my son and me.”
Lindsey reached out, her hand squeezing Amanda’s fingers before she took the sculpture from her. “I’ve just learned what’s going on, Amanda, but I want to do what I can to help, too.”
As Amanda had feared, everybody Evan cared about was willing to put himself or herself in danger for her. She had to leave as soon as possible.
