You Must Remember This

by Clara Wimberly

She had known all along how it was with him. And somewhere in the back of her mind she’d reminded her- self of it last night. Just before they made love. Just be- fore she realized that she didn’t want to play it safe any longer.

  Hagan wasn’t the one who’d changed. She was.

  So now she’d just have to live with it.

  “Good morning,” she said, stepping out of the bath- room.

  She had showered and was dressed in faded jean shorts and a loose-fitting white cotton shirt that nevertheless emphasized her breasts.

  She smiled at Cord as she walked toward them, but she was finding it difficult to meet Hagan’s eyes.

  She would have liked them to be alone this morning. To have a few moments to adjust to this fragile new relation- ship between them.

  Maybe even to fall back into bed and make love again.

  Hagan was watching her, noting the slight flush on her cheeks and the fresh-scrubbed look of her skin. Not to mention the way her cutoff shorts clung to her hips and emphasized the golden color of her thighs.

  When she met his eyes, he felt as if he’d been punched. Her eyes this morning reflected everything that had hap- pened between them during the long, delicious night. The blue depths sparkled with warmth and a look meant only for him.

  Hagan frowned. He’d seen that look before. Seen blue eyes like that before that gazed at him with desire and longing. A woman with blond hair and blue eyes.

  Was it Cindy he remembered? The sweet, naive young agent who’d had a crush on him? He couldn’t quite grasp a clear vision of her—it seemed to float away almost as quickly as it came.

  Sarah, on the other hand, he couldn’t seem to forget.

  He turned and poured her a cup of coffee, placing it on the table as she pulled out a chair to sit down.

  “I’m sorry about this morning,” Cord said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  Sarah lifted her hand, brushing away his apology with a weak smile.

  “It’s all right.” Her gaze flickered up toward Hagan. “Have you learned anything new?”

  “New?” Cord seemed as distracted by Sarah as Hagan was. He looked at his partner and they both grinned, then sat at the table.

  “Oh, new,” Cord muttered. “As a matter of fact, I wanted you to help me with that,” he said.

  “Me?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “I want you to tell me everything you remember about the guy who followed you home yesterday. Even the smallest detail.”

  Hagan watched Sarah. He liked the way she didn’t hes- itate. The way she pushed her heavy hair back from her face. She seemed to have forgotten the scar and he was glad she felt secure enough with him and Cord to do that.

  He had to look away from her to keep from remember- ing the way her hair felt against his naked skin. This was not the time, he told himself, to be thinking of last night and all the evocative sensations those thoughts brought.

  “It was an older truck,” she was saying. “A Ford, I think. Red, but it was faded..You know, as if it sat out in the sun a lot.”

  “How old?”

  Sarah shrugged. “Gosh, I don’t know. Not as old as Grandpa’s—I think he bought his in the seventies. It was the first new truck he’d ever bought,” she added softly.

  “Eighties then?” Cord asked, taking notes in a small pad he’d pulled from his pocket.

  “Yes, I think so. Probably early eighties.”

  “Describe the man,” Cord said, pencil poised.

  “Oh, heavens,” Sarah said. “I wish I could remember. I was just so scared…”

  Her eyes darted toward Hagan. His smile was sweet and encouraging.

  Suddenly Sarah’s expression changed and she turned to look down the hall toward the front door.

  “I heard something,” she said. “It sounded like a car door.”

  They all heard the footsteps on the porch and then a heavy knock at the door.

  Sarah turned to them, her eyes wide with concern.

  “It’s all right,” Hagan said. He stood up and placed his coffee cup in the sink, then moved silently to the back door. He didn’t open it, but stood in the shadows as he motioned Sarah and Cord to go to the door.

  Sarah’s heart skittered wildly as she walked toward the front door. Cord’s presence just behind her gave her less confidence than she would have thought. She had a sud- den vision of someone barging through the front door and shooting both of them.

  She shook the thoughts away, glancing at Cord once before reaching for the door.

  “I’m a friend, visiting from Valdosta,” he said, his voice a whisper. “In case anyone asks.”

  Sarah nodded and opened the door.

  Her heart was pounding and her mouth felt dry as she faced the man standing on the porch. He was a big man, as tall as Cord and much heavier. His faced was shad- owed by the brim of a ball cap and around his fatigue-clad middle was a belt with a wide leather scabbard. The kind that held a hunting knife.

  “Yes,” Sarah asked. “May I help you?”

  The man took off his hat and made a small, but polite nod to her. His eyes skimmed over Cord, then back to Sarah.

  “Miz James?”

  “Yes, I’m Sarah James,” she said.

  “How do, ma’am,” he said. “Sheriff Metcalf said you had an old truck…wasn’t runnin’ good?”

  Sarah wasn’t sure what she’d expected. But it wasn’t this. For a moment she couldn’t speak.

  “I…well, yes I did have, but…”

  “Said it was a Dodge.”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Well, see, I been lookin’ for an old Dodge to fix up. Me and the sheriff was havin’ a conversation about trucks…kind of a hobby of mine. He just mentioned yours, said you’d been havin’ some trouble with it and thought you might be interested in sellin.”

  “No,” she said. “I really don’t want to sell it—it be- longed to my granddad.”

  “I knowed your granddad,” he said, his voice kind and sympathetic. “He was a fine old gentleman.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sarah relaxed a bit. Was she was becoming so paranoid that even this polite man made her suspicious?

  He continued standing on the porch and Cord stepped forward.

  “She’s not interested in selling,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know,” the man replied. “But I’d like to look at it, anyway. That is if you don’t mind. I just kind of like lookin’ at old trucks.”

  Had the man’s expression changed? Was his glance at Cord filled with suspicion, or was it just Sarah’s overac- tive imagination?

  “Actually, the truck isn’t here right now.”

  “Oh.”

  The man hesitated. He glanced around the porch and out toward the garage and for a moment Sarah wasn’t sure what he intended.

  “Well, thanks anyway,” he said, after what seemed an eternity. “Mornin’ to ya.”

  “Good morning,” Sarah said, watching him go.

  She felt Cord brush against her as he walked out onto the porch. The man had left his truck parked near the road and Sarah couldn’t see it from the doorway. She assumed Cord was checking it out.

  “Say,” Cord called to the man. “We didn’t get your name. Just in case she decides to sell the truck later.”

  The man didn’t hesitate, but smiled and nodded. His actions made Sarah certain that his visit was legitimate.

  “Emmitt Walsh,” he said. “Live just the other side of Wayland, in the Bell Oak community. Name’s in the book.”

  Sarah watched the man disappear around the corner of the house. Then she was aware of Hagan standing behind her in the hallway, his hand at her waist, his chin touching her hair.

  She leaned back against him just for a moment and felt his hands tighten on her waist. She thought she even felt a soft kiss against her hair.

  Cord came back inside and Sarah locked the door.

  “Did you see him?” Cord asked Hagan. “Did his voice ring any bells?”

&nbs
p; “I saw him,” Hagan said. “But no…no bells.”

  Sarah thought he looked pale as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, glancing first at Cord, then at Sarah.

  “I still can’t remember a damn thing about that night.” Hagan’s smile, as he pushed away from the wall, was crooked and a bit wry. “But I do remember the camou- flage getup from being here on surveillance. They all do seem to use the same designer, don’t they? Rambo, if I’m not mistaken. Camouflage fatigues and a great big old knife.”

  “Yeah,” Cord said. He seemed thoughtful and not quite as amused.

  “I don’t think this man had anything to do with it,” Sarah said. “He just seems like a nice, honest man who’s interested in buying a truck. A lot of people around here dress in fatigues. And a lot of men carry hunting knives. This isn’t exactly metropolitan Atlanta.” Sarah added, her smile conciliatory.

  “It does seem like a big coincidence that the sheriff would send him out here to look at your truck,” Hagan said.

  “Did you notice he parked out near the main road?” Cord said. “Maybe where you couldn’t get a good look at his truck?”

  Sarah frowned.

  “But why would he—?”

  “It was a 1981 Ford pickup,” Cord said. “Red and washed-out…as if it had been sitting in the sun for years.”

  Sarah’s mouth opened and she turned to stare into Ha- gan’s eyes.

  “But…but he wasn’t the man following me…I’m sure of it. The man was younger…with darker skin.”

  “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Cord said, rub- bing his chin thoughtfully. “I’m going to check out this license plate. I’m also going to check out Mr. Emmitt Walsh…see what kind of reputation he has around Way- land. May I use your phone?”

  “Yes…sure,” she said, pointing to the phone in the hall.

  Sarah and Hagan listened, not touching or looking at each other, but standing awkwardly as if neither of them knew what to say or do.

  “Hey, Maggie, it’s Cord,” he said into the phone. “Run this tag for me, Will you? Yeah, I’ll wait.”

  A moment later, he wrote something in his notebook and when he turned to Hagan, there was a look of satis- faction in his eyes.

  “The owner of the truck is named Dan Brennan,” he muttered with an arch of his brow. He lifted his finger and began to dial another number. “This is long distance,” he said to Sarah. “I’ll reimburse you. I just want to check in with my wife.”

  “No problem,” she said.

  Hagan reached for her hand, pulling her with him to- ward the kitchen.

  “Come on, let’s have a cup of coffee. I have a feeling this conversation is going to be private.”

  In the kitchen they could hear Cord’s words, even though his back was to them and his voice was lowered.

  “Hey, baby, it’s me.”

  “Yeah, I miss you, too…like crazy.” There was a pause. “He’s fine.” Cord turned and grinned at Hagan. “As a matter of fact he’s standing right here. Georgia says hi,” Cord said.

  “Tell her I still say she married the wrong man,” Ha- gan said, grinning.

  Hagan and Sarah took their coffee and sat at the table, ignoring the rest of Cord’s conversation. He reached to take her hand.

  “This morning didn’t turn out exactly the way I in- tended,” he said.

  “I know,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “But maybe it was best. I didn’t know what I was going to say to you.”

  Hagan turned his head and frowned.

  “You’re not sorry, are you? Because if you are—”

  “No,” she whispered. She reached out to touch his un- shaven face, letting her fingers trace a line along his stub- bled jawbone. “I’m not sorry. Not for one minute.”

  “Your fingers are shaking,” he said. “Are you all right? Did the man at the door frighten you that much?”

  She smiled at him.

  “No, maybe I’m getting used to this craziness. I’m not shaking because I’m afraid,” she said softly.

  “Oh,” he said, with a teasing arch of his brow. “That’s okay then.” He kissed her, then his look grew more seri- ous. “Look, this is all going to be over soon,” he whis- pered. “I promise.”

  Hagan was surprised at just how protective he felt to- ward Sarah. He knew Cord was right when he tore into him this morning. It was hardly professional to go to bed with someone involved in a case. If the agency preached anything, it was not to get involved or get too close, no matter what the circumstances were.

  Funny, but his body didn’t seem to be paying attention.

  He might not be able to remember everything yet, but he still knew himself better than anyone. And he knew that deep down inside he was not one to become involved. For all his outward pretense at charm and camaraderie with the other agents, he was a cautious man, and except for Cord, happiest when he was alone. Distrustful, with barriers and guards to keep people at arm’s length.

  A man who, on one hand, smiled and motioned people in. But on the other hand, a man who always put on the brakes. Who decided when a relationship would begin and when it would end.

  And he wasn’t sure how this woman had slipped past those barriers so swiftly and so easily.

  Was it because he’d been practically dead when he came here? Had it been gratitude at first? Comfort?

  Feeling the way his body responded even now to the touch of her hand, he knew it was more than that.

  This had not been the normal cajoling, teasing game of getting a woman into bed. And although the sex had cer- tainly been just as hot and exciting, something was very different.

  This time he wasn’t playing games.

  Somehow he had let himself become vulnerable. And he couldn’t afford to let that happen again.

  Cord hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen.

  “Sarah, I need your help.”

  “Of course…anything.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Hagan said, bristling. “I thought I made it clear that she’s not to be involved anymore.”

  Cord ignored him and continued talking to Sarah.

  “I really need you to do this. We’re going to find this Dan Brennan and you’re going to tell me if he was the man driving the faded red truck that followed you. If he was and Emmitt Walsh was driving it today, then I have to be- lieve they’re on to us. We need to act quickly before they meet with the rest of the group and put two and two to- gether.”

  “I’m going with you,” Hagan said.

  “No.” The word was spoken by Cord and Sarah at the same time.

  “Yes, dammit,” Hagan said. “I can’t just sit here like—”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Cord said. “You’re the one they’re looking for. Even if they do see Sarah in town they won’t be sure why she’s there. But with you coming out in the open, you’d just be asking for it.”

  “He’s right, Hagan,” Sarah said. “Please…listen to him.”

  Hagan gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Sarah wanted nothing more than to go to him. She didn’t care what Cord saw or what he thought. All she could think about was Hagan and what he must be feeling.

  But something prevented her from doing that. Maybe it was because they hadn’t really had time to talk about what was happening between them. Maybe it was because in her heart she was still afraid that it might have only been a one- night stand as far as he was concerned. Just a passing fling until this case was settled and he moved on to another one.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Cord won’t let anything hap- pen.”

  Hagan opened his eyes and stared up at his partner.

  “He’d damn well better not.”

  “You’re the one who needs to be careful.” Cord said. “You’ll be alone here for a couple of hours at least. When we get back, we’ll decide if we have to move out of here or not. In the meantime, you watch it, you hear?”

  Hagan sighed, but it was obvious he still didn’t like it.

&n
bsp; “I hear you.”

  Cord was discreet enough to go outside for a moment, leaving Sarah and Hagan alone.

  Hagan stood up and reached for her, pulling her up and into his arms with a heavy sigh.

  “I don’t like this, darlin,” he said. “I don’t like it a damn bit.”

  “I know. I don’t, either. But I’ll be all right.”

  His kiss was sweet and tender and when he looked into her eyes, Sarah felt her heart skip a beat.

  “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” she whispered as she reluctantly pulled away.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter 13

  It was late afternoon when Cord and Sarah drove back toward the farmhouse.

  “I’m sorry it took longer than I thought,” Cord said. “Unfortunately, Dan Brennan doesn’t hold down a steady job, so he was harder to find than I expected.”

  “I’m just a little worried about Hagan, that’s all,” she said, gazing hard into the distance, waiting to see the little house come into view.

  “You don’t have to worry about Hagan,” Cord said, glancing at her. “He can take care of himself. Now that you’ve identified Dan Brennan as the man who followed you, we need to get both you and Hagan out of here as soon as possible.”

  Sarah bit her lip.

  “I can’t believe Emmitt Walsh is involved in this. He seemed like such a nice man.”

  Cord shrugged. “He could be a nice man. Some people who join these groups lead pretty normal lives. They’re just easily manipulated and a litile misguided, that’s all.”

  “Dangerously misguided,” Sarah said.

  “In this case, you’re right,” he said.

  When they pulled into the driveway, Sarah had her hand on the door handle, waiting to spring from the sedan.

  “See,” Cord said. “Everything is normal. Although I’d be willing to bet Hagan is wound up as tight as an eight- day clock by now.”

  As soon as Sarah stepped onto the front porch, an odd feeling swept over her. It seemed quieter than usual. The birds weren’t even singing in the trees around the house.

  She glanced toward Tom’s box but he wasn’t there. She cocked her head curiously as she noticed the odd angle of the wooden box and how the old pillow that usually lay inside was partially out on the floor.