“Never mind.” Frank sighed. “Jack, I need you to tell me exactly what happened that night.”
“Again?”
The attorney smiled at his grimace. “Oh, yes, again. And again and again. Brent, would you mind?” he said, motioning him to leave the room and give them some privacy.
He nodded. “Iʼll be right outside if you need me.”
As soon as the cell door closed behind him, Frank turned back to Jack. “Okay, son. Spill it all out.”
With a resigned sigh, he sat down on his bed and started telling him everything he knew. When he finished, half an hour later, his throat was so dry he had to take a big swallow from the cup of water Frank had poured him.
“Is that it?” the lawyer asked, a big notepad open on his lap.
“Yes. Well…almost.”
“Whatʼs that supposed to mean?”
Jack took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can trust you, right? I mean, since youʼre my lawyer and everything?”
The older man gave him a sad smile, watching him stand up and start pacing. “Yes, son, you can trust me. What is it?”
Jack stopped and turned to him, a dead-serious expression on his face “Thereʼs a chance—a good chance—that I might be guilty. There are these pills…some painkillers that Doc gave me after my accident. I only took them twice since I got them.”
“And?”
“They make me feel weird, Frank. Really weird. They knock me out cold… Or so I thought. Apparently, though, they black out my mind, but not my body.”
Frankʼs eyes narrowed. “Iʼm afraid I donʼt understand.”
He dropped back onto the cot and rubbed his face with both hands. “The very first time I took those pills was the night Charlene Whiters died. Have you heard about her?”
“She was killed the night of the Fourth of July Fair.”
“Yes,” Jack confirmed. “When Sara and I came back home from the fair that night, I was exhausted. My leg was sore and my head was hurting like hell, so I tossed a couple of pills down just like Doc told me to do when the pain got unbearable. I didnʼt think much of it, until Sara woke me up, hours later.” He gave him a long look. “I was on the porch swing, Frank, and I donʼt even recall getting there. All I know is that I went for a walk, then everything went blank. Yet somehow I must have made it home. Sara said I looked completely disoriented when she woke me up. I donʼt remember any of that.” Jack stopped, waiting for Frank to say something. When he didnʼt, he took another deep breath, then proceeded to tell him about the second time heʼd taken the pills. The night Carrie was murdered.
Another thick, heavy silence followed his words. He scanned Frankʼs face for a reaction, but the manʼs expression was blank. “Jack, I need to see those painkillers.”
He frowned. “You donʼt think that Doc—”
“I donʼt know what to think right now. All I know is that we need to get those pills analyzed as soon as possible.”
Jack pushed a nervous hand through his hair. “Theyʼre on the table. There are more at home, in the bathroom cabinet. Ask Sara. Sheʼll give them to you.”
“Does anybody know about this?”
“No.”
“Good.” Frank started walking toward the door, then stopped and turned around. “Jack, I know that Brent is your friend, and heʼs a nice guy. But remember, heʼs first and foremost a cop. Just…donʼt tell him anything about this yet.”
Jack lifted his head in surprise. He opened his mouth to protest but clamped it shut as soon as he remembered Carrieʼs words the last night heʼd seen her. Sheʼd warned him not to trust Brent too much. Told him there was something about Richard Hayden in their file. And now that the file had been stolen, heʼd never know what it was.
Drawing in a deep breath, Jack gave Frank a nod. The lawyer was right. At the moment, he could trust nobody.
Including himself.
***
The road was narrow and so dark that the motorcycle headlight hardly helped him see what was right in front of him. The night sky was inky black, and if it weren’t for the lights of the dark Hummer behind him, he would probably see absolutely nothing.
Grunting a curse, he leaned the bike to the side as a sharp turn seemed to appear out of nowhere. The Hummer followed suit, speeding up dangerously right when the turn was at its sharpest and almost careening into his motorcycle. Shit! He swerved the motorcycle to the side again, but the Hummer sped up again and veered off in the same direction, pushing into the rear of his bike―light enough not to crash it but hard enough to make him lunge forward with the impact. Trying to regain control of the motorcycle, he turned hard again―to no avail. Fuck! was his last thought as he lost control of the motorcycle and flew off the road. The world went black.
Suddenly, a gleaming light appeared in front of him, so bright that he had to squint his eyes against it. It was coming from a large, high-vaulted window. Boy, he loved that window! So big, so open, so mind-liberating. And he liked the view outside even more: stretched right before his eyes was the most beautiful land he’d ever seen. His land.
When a gentle hand lay on his shoulder, he turned around slowly. “All this is yours, son. All you have to do is say yes…”
Jack jerked awake and sat bolt upright.
Big mistake. The cell walls swam around him, and he snapped his eyes closed. His head felt as if it were about to explode. Trembling, he swung his legs to the side and struggled to catch his breath. He didnʼt know how long he sat there at the edge of the bed, trying to regain control, but it felt like an eternity. When the cell came back into focus, he stood up carefully and walked to the sink to splash cold water to his face. The reflection he caught in the worn-out mirror made him wince. He looked awful. The top of his jumpsuit was soaked with his own sweat; the mean, purplish shiner on his right cheekbone made him look like heʼd just been in a barroom brawl, and his eyes were so bloodshot he could hardly see any green in them anymore. What the hell had just happened, anyway?
It was just a dream. It had to be. Either that or he was losing his mind.
“Jack? You awake?”
He turned toward Brent’s voice and saw his friend standing at the cell door. “Frankʼs here. He wants to see you for a sec. Is that all right?”
“Yeah.”
The attorney appeared less than a minute later, freshly shaven and wearing his usual impeccable black suit. “Good morning!” An unintelligible grunt was all he got back from Jack―but somehow, it made his grin even wider.
“What time is it?”
Frank glanced at the pricey-looking silver watch on his wrist. “Almost seven a.m.”
“Dear God.” With another grunt, Jack walked back to the sink and splashed his face again.
“Are you okay? You seem a little…off.”
This time the concern in the man’s tone made him force a nod. “I’m fine. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know that I stopped by Sara’s last night and got the painkillers. I’m on my way to take them to the lab, so we should get the results in a couple of days, three at the most.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Sure.”
Jack hesitated a split second, then took a ragged breath. “Did you see Sara?”
“Well, yes. I don’t usually break into people’s houses and go through their medicine cabinets, you know.” Frank shot him a duh look, but Jack was not in the mood for sarcastic remarks.
“How is she?”
“She’s holding up. Way better than you, I have to say,” Frank added, eyeing him up and down. “Are you sure you’re all right, son? You do look a little strange.”
Jack winced and took an instinctive step back. Are you all right, son? This is all yours, son. I love you, son....
“Jack? Is something wrong? Are you in pain?”
The urgency in Frank’s questions broke into his thoughts, and he shook his head hard. Definitely, he was losing his mind. “Sorry, I―I just got up, and I guess I’m not totally awake yet,”
he said with a faint smile, trying to sound natural.
It must have worked, because Frank smiled fondly back at him. “You’ve never been quite the morning person. Iʼll come back later.”
“Frank?” Jack called out as the older man started to walk away. “Thank you.”
Frankʼs expression softened even more. “Youʼre welcome, son.”
***
Sara got out of her car and locked the door, her hand so shaky that she almost dropped the keys twice. Straightening her shoulders, she looked up at the sheriffʼs office and tried to summon the courage to push the doors open and walk in.
She had been so excited when Brent had called her to inform her that he had obtained an authorization for her to visit Jack anytime between eight and noon today. Her watch read 7:52 a.m. now, but she was already here, too anxious to wait any longer. Sheʼd barely even slept at the thought of seeing Jack again after over a week—yet now she found herself hesitating, her stomach tied in a million knots.
Would Jack be happy to see her? After all, heʼd never called her or attempted to contact her since the day he’d been arrested. Heck, he had never even sent her a message through Brent, Nicky, or Frank! Having kept in touch with the attorney during the last week, she knew that he and Jack had met multiple times, and Frank had told her that Jack was grateful for all of her help in finding him. Grateful? Help? Those words sounded so cold and meaningless.
Inhaling sharply, Sara pushed the doors open and entered the lobby as sheʼd done hundreds of times—though never had wild butterflies fluttered inside her stomach before. She forced a smile at Jessicaʼs familiar face behind the reception desk and proceeded toward the sheriffʼs office, currently occupied by Brent. He was sitting at the desk when she knocked on his door but rose with a smile as soon as he saw her.
“Hi,” she said, hugging him. “Is Nicky in her office?”
“Nope, I sent her off to run some errands. Sheʼs going to be so mad when she gets back and finds out that you came while she was out,” he added with a mischievous grin. “But youʼre here to see Jack, arenʼt you?”
Sara nodded, trying to control the crazy pounding of her heart. “If itʼs possible.”
“Sure. Iʼm afraid Iʼll have to ask you to leave your purse and cell phone here, though.”
Sara placed them on his desk, then followed him out of the office, her shaky legs struggling to keep up with his long strides through the narrow corridors. She felt as if they had walked for miles when he finally stopped in front of a closed door with a Visitation Room sign. After unlocking it, he motioned her to enter. The first things Sara noticed as she walked into the fairly large room were the stark walls and the lack of windows. Her eyes then darted to the few stainless steel tables and matching chairs, bolted to the floor and positioned a few feet from one another.
Brent slid an encouraging arm around her shoulders. “You all right, hon?”
“Yes. Sorry, Iʼm a little nervous.”
“Why donʼt you take a seat while I go get Jack, so we can put an end to this torture?” he said with a wink before he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Sara sat down at one of the tables and rubbed her arms as if trying to infuse some heat into her body. She couldnʼt remember ever being so tense in her entire life, but she became even more nervous when the door clanked open a couple of minutes later. She jumped back to her feet, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Jack, on the contrary, sauntered into the room with nonchalance. When Brent told him he had a visitor, heʼd assumed it was Frank, as usual—but his breath caught in his throat the instant he saw Sara.
Unable to move a muscle, he stood perfectly still, staring at her as if hypnotized. She was beautiful, he thought in a daze, with her long dark hair falling on her shoulders in soft waves; her sweet curves were emphasized by her tight jeans and light yellow blouse. And her eyes…ah, those sweet eyes of hers! Heʼd missed them more than he’d even realized. Heʼd missed all of her. If he didnʼt stop looking at her right now, he would likely have a heart attack.
“You have thirty minutes, guys,” Brent announced, but he barely heard him. “Sara, Iʼm right outside if you need anything. Jack, I trust you―you know the drill. And please, try to keep your hands off,” he added with a chuckle.
Only the clanking of the handcuffs snapping closed around his wrists seemed to shake off the numbness Jack had fallen into. The cold reality hit him like a blow to the chest as he lowered his gaze and blinked at them: Sara shouldnʼt see him in jail. She shouldnʼt see him so…dirty! He winced when Brent patted him on the shoulder.
“Sorry, man, itʼs the rules,” his friend said ruefully before leaving the room.
Saraʼs smile died on her lips the instant the door closed behind Brent and she noticed the angry and disgusted expression on Jackʼs face. Apparently, he really wasnʼt happy to see her. It didnʼt matter, she tried to convince herself. She was happy to see him. Studying him from head to toe, she couldnʼt help noticing how drawn and exhausted his handsome face looked. An anguished groan almost rose to her lips at the sight of his swollen eye and bruised cheekbone, but she pushed it back and shook her head.
“Jack Turner, I leave you alone for a few days, and look what happens,” she said with a weak smile, trying to fight the urge to dive into his arms.
“You shouldnʼt have come.”
His words, along with the cold, inexpressive tone in which heʼd spoken them, made her forget all of her good resolutions. Sudden resentment poured inside her as venom, taking over any other emotions.
“Really. I guess I shouldnʼt have been worried about you, either, then? I shouldnʼt have spent endless sleepless nights wondering if you were all right? I shouldnʼt have missed you like crazy every single minute that weʼve been apart? Is that what youʼre saying?”
Jack didnʼt answer but stared at her, his eyes burning, his jaw tight. Suddenly, he stepped backward and fell into one of the chairs. “You shouldnʼt be here,” he repeated, rubbing his face with his hands. “This place is not for you.”
“Who is this place for, Jack?” she asked in a softer tone.
“Criminals. Murderers.”
“Well, youʼre neither.” Sara took a tentative step closer to him—but stopped cold as he snapped his head up and glared at her.
“Isnʼt that nice hearing that from you.”
“What?” She gave him a disoriented stare as he sprang up furiously.
“I saw you, Sara! The morning I was arrested, when that cop slammed me against that car and read my rights, I saw the way you looked at me. I saw the revulsion on your face.”
“Then you need to wear glasses or find a remedy for that darn stubbornness of yours!” she burst out in frustration. “Crap, Jack, you have the eyesight of a mole and the head of a mule!”
He stood up in silence. But when his gaze met hers, Sara caught him biting his lips to stop the treacherous smile lurking at the corner of them. Just like that, her anger melted away, and she lunged into his arms. “I missed you so much.”
Ignoring Brentʼs warnings, Jack lifted his handcuffed wrists and wrapped her in the protective circle of his arms, burying his face in her hair. “God, youʼre a breath of fresh air in here.”
Sara savored his closeness, soaking up his warmth, breathing in his smell, and trying to memorize every instant of his wonderful embrace. Then she tilted her head back just enough to look into those beloved eyes sheʼd feared she would never see again. “Jack, I donʼt know what you saw or think you saw that morning, but I know that I felt like dying.”
“You looked disgusted.”
“For the love of God, of course I was disgusted! I watched you being accused of murder, shoved up against a police car, and handcuffed. What did you expect me to do, jump up and down with joy as they took you away from me?” Her eyes closed as she tried to erase the memory of those horrible moments, but a tear rolled down her cheek.
Jack reached up enough to brush it away with his thumb, ignoring the metal
lic clink of the handcuff that echoed in the quiet room. “Donʼt cry, sweetheart.”
Sara fluttered her eyes open to look at him. Immediately tears welled up again. “I canʼt believe that idiot did this to you,” she whispered, tracing the contours of his bruised eye with her fingertips.
Jack turned his head into her palm and kissed it. “I donʼt care.”
“Well, I do, so you better not get yourself beaten again.”
He nodded solemnly but couldnʼt help smirking. “Yes, maʼam.”
“And youʼre skinny as hell, too. Are they even feeding you in here?”
“Yes, maʼam―but I promise Iʼll eat more if that makes you happy.”
“Good. Now shut up and kiss me already.”
“Yes, maʼam.”
Jack plunged into her mouth with a growl that rumbled deep in his chest. Desire jolted through him as their lips met for the first time in what had felt like a lifetime, shaking the numbness out of his body. He kissed her with tenderness and desperation, trying to lose himself in her and forget the grim reality surrounding him. He kissed with all the frustration, fear, and uncertainty accumulated during the past long days without her. He kissed her until they were both out of breath, and by the time he dragged his mouth away from hers and trailed soft kisses down her neck, he could feel her pulse racing.
As their gazes met again, Sara drew a shaky breath. “Come back home soon, hon. Youʼre a little too roughed up for my taste already.”
He chuckled. “Iʼll do my best, sweetheart. By the way, thank you for finding Frank. Heʼs awesome.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Did you really call Raymond Miller in Chicago in the middle of night?” He shook his head in amusement as she dropped her eyes.
“I, uh, didnʼt realize what time it was. I got the idea of calling him and picked up the phone before thinking about it.”
He grinned. “So I heard.”
“Raymond was very nice, though. He cares about you, and so does Frank.”
Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) Page 30
