by Edie Claire
At first, Teagan had welcomed the downtime. Her emotions were all over the place, in highly unprofessional ways, and she had to get a grip. She needed to stop thinking about Jamie’s reactions to Eric in a personal way and move on with the rest of the equation. God knew Jamie could use the services of about ten social workers—not just one irritable, conflicted one. But Teagan had not yet succeeded in getting that grip. And five minutes of staring at a mute and emotionless Jamie hadn’t improved the situation in the slightest.
If anything, Jamie’s “woe is me” demeanor only irritated Teagan further.
“Coming up with anything?” Teagan asked shortly.
Jamie swung her head around listlessly. “Am I supposed to be?”
Teagan fought for patience. “Our goal here is to get you out of danger. We may have found out your workplace and your address, but you can’t go back to that life until we figure out who attacked you and report him to the police. Do you remember him, or not?”
Jamie’s expression was blank. “No. There’s nothing helpful. I saw one flash... but that’s it. I started work here over the summer. I can’t remember anything past fall.”
Teagan’s exasperation erupted. “I don’t believe you!” she barked, unable to stop herself. “Why did you freak out so much over what Richard said? We knew there had to be a man, we knew he was bad news... if you haven’t remembered anything new, then what’s going on with you?”
Jamie’s pale cheeks flared with red. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?” Teagan persisted. “You really think anything you say is going to shock me?”
“No! It’s just that I’m... embarrassed,” Jamie finished quietly.
Teagan’s eyebrows rose. Embarrassed? That was a new one. “Embarrassed about what?”
Jamie’s gaze returned to the window. Snowflakes the size of quarters engulfed the city skyline in an uneven veil of white. Her voice went deadpan. “Richard said he thought the guy was married.”
Teagan blinked. “Yeah? And?”
Jamie spun around, her golden eyes flashing. “You really think I mess around with married men?”
Blood rushed into Teagan’s head like lava. Her mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
“I would never sleep with a married man!” Jamie continued hotly. “How do you think I got here? Why do you think my mother got thrown out of her house? Because of some worthless, faithless, lowlife, married bastard who couldn’t keep it zipped, that’s why! My mother gave up everything to raise me. Everything! She had no life. She never looked at another man, never had any fun going out anywhere. She worked herself into an early grave, all for me, all so I would have the best life she could possibly give me, with no help from him, or from anyone! You really think I would fall into that same trap? Do I seem that pathetically stupid to you? Well, do I?!”
Teagan’s mouth worked as mutely as a fish’s.
“I’ve never claimed to be a saint!” Jamie continued bitterly. “But I do have my code, and I don’t go around breaking it just to get a few things. I’ve never taken gifts from guys! Everything I have, I’ve earned on my own. No one buys Jamie Meadows, and no one owns her!”
“So maybe you changed!” Teagan spat out.
Jamie looked back at her, stunned. “Why would you say that?”
The blood in Teagan’s head neared the boiling point. She shot up out of her chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. “Why do you think?!”
To Teagan’s utter amazement, Jamie looked confused. “What are you so upset about?”
Teagan could only stammer. “What... I...”
“I thought you were trying to help me!” Jamie said accusingly. “You didn’t trust Richard an inch when we walked in here—you thought he might have been the one who assaulted me. Now all of a sudden you take his word over mine? You think I’m some brainless slut who would sell her soul just to get some other woman’s husband?”
The volcano erupted.
“Well, why not?!” Teagan thundered, accidentally banging her thighs against the table so hard the dishes rattled. “You sure as hell threw me under the bus to get mine!”
Jamie’s face paled. It was not the reaction Teagan had expected. Her blood pressure began to drop; the sheen of sweat on her brow felt suddenly clammy.
For several interminable seconds, Jamie said nothing. She just blinked back at Teagan, uncomprehending. But the next words from her lips sent Teagan’s blood pressure straight back up again.
“That was different.”
Teagan closed her eyes. She breathed deeply. When her eyes opened again, she tried to focus on the cast—on the fact that the woman in front of her had been beaten nearly to death just four days ago. She steadied herself; tried to moderate her tone. “How do you figure?” she squeaked painfully.
Jamie had the decency to flush. “I told you, I wasn’t making a play for Eric. Not really. It was just a moment of weakness—I needed somebody. And you have to understand... I did have him first.”
Teagan felt her fingers tightening around a salad fork.
Jamie’s pupils widened. “That’s not what I mean!” she said quickly, daring to step closer. “I’m not laying claim to him, I’m just trying to explain how my stupid brain works! When my head’s all fuzzy and my emotions are all haywire and I look at him, I don’t see another woman’s husband, least of all yours. I see the Eric I used to know. The available one. The one who was so sweet to me, who made me laugh, who respected me. I didn’t get that too often. And when I think now about what some maniac tried to do to me, and I start to feel worthless...” Her voice trailed off.
Teagan’s fingers relaxed around the fork. A little.
“Hell, Teag, I don’t even know where I’m going with this,” Jamie said roughly, turning back toward the window. “I don’t know what to say to you. I told you I’d leave Eric alone from now on, and I will. I can’t make you believe that, and I don’t blame you for not trusting me. But please,” she turned back again, her now-blotchy face imploring. “Can you just try to see the difference? There’s a reason I didn’t know what you were talking about.” She paused a long moment, collecting her thoughts. “The Jamie you’re seeing in action is a brain-damaged emotional wreck. She’s screwed up, she’s freaked out, and she’s weak. But the Jamie that Richard knew... that woman was in her right mind. She was supposed to be strong.”
Teagan watched in amazement as Jamie’s lower lip trembled. “I don’t understand what happened to her.”
Teagan’s pulse rate began to slow.
She did get it, actually. It was humiliating that Jamie had managed to assess herself more accurately than could Teagan, a professional. But that’s what happened when objectivity was lost. And Teagan’s was long, long gone.
“Jamie,” she said finally. “I’m no saint, either. And I can’t talk about Eric with you. I’ve tried. I can’t. So can we just stay off the damn subject?”
Jamie’s expression brightened. “Absolutely. But you brought it up. I didn’t.”
Teagan’s fingers itched back toward the salad fork.
Jamie turned to the door and threw back her shoulders in a gesture of determination. “If you don’t mind, Teag,” she said with obviously false bravado. “I’m ready to go now. I think I’ve remembered all this restaurant has to tell me. And besides, my head is pounding.”
Teagan said nothing, but replaced the chair she’d been sitting in and followed Jamie toward the exit. Unfortunately, the route Jamie chose required her to open a particularly heavy door that seemed stuck in its frame, and as she moved without thought to wrestle it open, she somehow jerked her broken arm. She cried out in pain and pulled the casted arm toward her side.
Teagan sidled around without a word, popped open the door, and held it.
Jamie began to move through, but stopped midway. “Teag?” she said softly, still looking ahead.
“Yeah?” Teagan responded.
Somewhere, far back in the recesses of her mind,
Teagan heard again the lapping of canoe oars on lake water. The buzz of dragonflies. The honking of faraway ducks.
“Thanks,” Jamie offered.
Teagan raised her brown eyes to Jamie’s golden ones, and knew she heard them too.
“You’re welcome,” she answered.
Chapter Twenty-One
“The weatherman said one to two inches,” Teagan groused as she popped open her car trunk, sending showers of icy flakes cascading off in all directions. “And that was supposed to be for all day. Look at this! Two inches on top of the car, at least, and that’s just since we parked.” She pulled out an ice scraper, slammed the trunk closed again, and used the brush side to begin clearing the windshield. “If I’d known we were in for this much I would have waited till afternoon.”
“Sorry,” Jamie apologized, wishing her very existence didn’t seem to be such a burden. She knew she’d been demanding a lot of Teagan lately, but as much as she hated being needy, crap just kept happening to her. “It’s probably just a squall,” she said optimistically, shivering by the passenger door. “You have another scraper? I can help.”
“No thanks,” Teagan responded. She stopped scraping long enough to open the driver’s door, lean in, and start the engine. “You might as well sit inside and get warm.”
Jamie complied. She hated being cold. The bulky polyester coat she was wearing had been the only one of Teagan’s that fit easily over her cast, but in terms of warmth, it left much to be desired. Furthermore, her borrowed bra was way too tight, and if she didn’t get out of it soon, she’d have permanent furrows across her back and shoulders. They had planned to clothes shop today, but now her head throbbed painfully and she wanted nothing more than to return to Teagan’s garage apartment, fire up the heater, strip down, crawl under about sixty blankets, and get unconscious. Maybe if she was lucky, she could stay that way. Then she wouldn’t have to remember.
Teagan finished brushing off the car and got inside, her hair and clothing dotted with melting crusts of white. She pulled the car out onto the unplowed street and its wheels slowly crunched over the new-fallen snow. The once scurrying flakes in the air had thickened to a shower, and visibility dimmed.
“You sure you’re okay with driving back to the North Hills?” Jamie asked, hoping fervently the answer would be yes. “We could always just hang out somewhere until it lets up—or the plows get through.”
“I’ve driven through plenty worse than this,” Teagan replied confidently.
Jamie said no more. She should have known that Teagan would take conquering bad roads as a personal challenge.
They made their way down the side street back to Grandview Avenue, but found that corridor equally untouched by either plow or salt truck. Teagan slogged on, driving slowly and mingling cautiously with the sparse traffic. They neared the intersection with McArdle Roadway, the steep, narrow road that was the quickest way back down the mountain, and seeing that the road was open, Jamie’s anxiety grew. McArdle was usually closed in bad weather, as it had no shoulders and was perched on the edge of a cliff. None of the roads had been treated yet. Already they’d passed one unfortunate SUV with its nose crinkled around a fire hydrant. She opened her mouth to suggest another route, but quickly reconsidered. This was Teagan she was dealing with. Any show of no confidence would only egg her on.
Teagan turned the nose of the car onto McArdle.
Jamie gritted her teeth and winced.
To her credit, Teagan did know how to drive on snow. She kept the car moving forward at a snail’s pace, never fast enough to make slamming the brakes necessary. The powder was fresh and deep and not yet packed down to ice, so the tires did have some traction.
But still.
Jamie tried not to think—as she looked over Teagan’s shoulder at the otherwise pleasing view of downtown from across the icy water—about how far up the cliff they still were, or just how sturdy the concrete barrier was that prevented cars from tumbling down the side of it. She knew that the rocky, forested face of Mount Washington was even steeper and more forbidding than it looked. City crews were constantly rescuing idiots who thought they could climb up or down it, only to find themselves stuck midway and unable to move either direction.
So far, Teagan was doing fine.
No other car had passed them coming up the hill, which made sense, given the greater difficulty of traversing the road in that direction. When they passed the halfway point, Jamie began to breathe easier. Surely, when they reached the bottom of the hill and turned onto Liberty Bridge, the roads would be better. The busiest routes always got treated first. And any second now, this nasty squall was bound to start petering out—
The Hummer flew into view ahead like one of the monster dragonflies that used to accost their canoe. Armored, colorful, speedy... and erratic.
“Oh, hell,” Teagan murmured, tightening her grip on the wheel. “Where does he think he is, Daytona?”
The women held their breath as the Hummer fought its way up the hill in a zigzag pattern, spitting snow out left and right behind its giant wheels. A certain amount of speed was necessary to move uphill on snow, true, but the driver of the Hummer was clearly on a power trip. Unfortunately, his method of tackling the road required at least two thirds of the breadth of it.
“Move over, you idiot!” Jamie ordered the other driver.
Teagan was already inching their car toward the right shoulder, but there was only so far she could go.
“He acts like he doesn’t even see us!” Teagan exclaimed, and the two of them watched with disbelief as the Hummer continued coming toward them, its pattern unaltered. Only when it drew close enough for the women to make out the other driver’s face were they certain that he had spotted them.
His expression of utter shock was less than comforting.
Instead of veering slightly to the right and continuing uphill straight, the man inexplicably slammed his brakes, resulting in an immediate, two-hundred-forty degree tailspin.
Jamie watched in horror as the Hummer slid over the snow-covered road like a bad ballerina, held back in its forward motion by sheer gravity, its weight and sudden loss of power combining to slow it quickly to a ungraceful, sideways halt less than ten feet in front of them.
Teagan did all she could. Her judicious use of the brakes reduced their own speed from fifteen miles per hour down to maybe ten. But there was nowhere for her to steer to, nowhere else to go. Their car certainly wasn’t stopping. Even as Jamie felt her own feet reflexively stretch out and strike the front panel, she knew that slamming the brakes would only make the car go faster.
They were going to collide.
The scene unfolded in slow motion. Teagan’s car drifted forward down the hill with all the grace the Hummer had lacked, moving slowly, easily, and perfectly straight to forge a direct hit broadside against the Hummer’s front wheel. Jamie’s body tensed and her eyes closed as the cab rocked with the impact. The sharp, sickening crunch of crumpling metal met her ears, and the world went white.
***
For one bizarre, fleeting moment, Teagan thought her body had been thrown out of the car and into the snow. Then she realized her face was in an airbag.
She pushed the rapidly deflating plastic pillow out of her way to find Jamie doing the same. “Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, even as she assessed her own body for injury. Everything seemed fine.
“I’m good,” Jamie answered. “But we’d better get out of here. Another car could be coming behind us.”
Teagan swore. She tried to open her door, but found it jammed.
“Come this way,” Jamie urged, stepping through the passenger door.
Teagan scooted over and followed her out.
Her Corolla sat placidly on the road, quiet now except for the occasional creak or pop, fresh snow already beginning to cover its windows. Its entire front end was buckled.
The Hummer didn’t have a scratch.
Its driver hopped down from the other side, walked around,
and stood beside them. He was not some reckless teenager, or even a twenty-something. The man was fifty if he was a day, potbellied, sun weathered, and dressed upscale casual with pricey leather boots. He surveyed the damage to Teagan’s vehicle with a frown, then whistled.
“Little car like that shouldn’t be on the road in this weather, wouldn’t you say, ladies?”
Teagan’s head whipped up. A fire of fury blazed in her toes and spread up through the rest of her like lightning. Her mouth opened, her arms drew back—
All at once Jamie was standing in front of her, facing the man. “Now, don’t go being an asshole,” the sexy voice purred, smooth as butter. “She fights dirtier when she’s angry—besides which, her husband’s a lawyer. Now how about we all get off the road before the next car runs us over?”
Over Jamie’s shoulder, Teagan watched the man blink. He looked up the hill, and his mouth twitched. He then hustled to the side of the road and over the guardrail, spewing profanity as he went.
Heavy breaths rocked Teagan’s chest. The frigid air stung her lungs. “Let me kill him,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please let me kill him.”
“All in good time, Teag,” Jamie answered, pushing her toward the far embankment. “I see another car.”
Teagan hastened along with Jamie to the downhill side of the road, where they scrambled over the concrete barrier but stopped short of the iron fence that marked the end of the level roadbed. One false step on the other side and they’d be tumbling through the treetops, but they could at least move lengthwise till the shoulder widened out. Teagan could appreciate Jamie’s choice of safety zones. As the delivery van chugged toward them, the driver of the Hummer had cause to second guess his position in the three-foot trough that separated the opposite guard rail from a towering wall of rock. Screeching like a girl, he first hopped up and down in place, then turned and frantically tried to scramble up and out of the way by grabbing at snow-covered roots and spindly trees. But he made no progress. The cliff was too steep; the fresh snow too slippery, and as the heavy vehicle bore down upon them he lost his footing entirely and slipped to the ground out of view.
