“He beat you.”
It wasn’t a question. She knew he’d read the police report. Marissa shivered and pulled the tuxedo jacket closer around her.
“I let him do it. I stayed. I thought if I could get him back on his meds, everything would work out. I was young and stupid.”
Seth placed his hand on hers. She twined her fingers tight in his, not wanting to let go.
“I’m sorry.”
“I wanted a family for the girls, and Rick seemed like a solid guy. I had no idea about his mental health issues and drinking until later. I dragged the girls through hell for nothing.”
“You were young. You’re not that woman anymore,” Seth said. He squeezed her hand gently before pulling away. “I spent weeks in the hospital after the fire.”
It was the first time he’d talked about his past without her dragging it out of him.
“It must have been painful.”
“They had me on some pretty powerful pain-killers when I was hospitalized. After that I self-medicated. I’m an alcoholic, Marissa. Up until a few nights ago, I’d been sober for over a year.”
“God, this is all my fault.”
“You?”
“If I hadn’t gone to your place . . .”
“I was already drunk by the time you showed up, and for the record, I don’t regret what happened between us. I was confused, and I’m sorry. I handled things badly.”
Their eyes locked.
“And now you’re not?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
After all he’d been through, the last thing she wanted was to cause him more pain. He’d lost his job and his sobriety because of her. She was toxic. He’d be smart to get as far away from her as fast as he could before she completely destroyed him.
“I’m just another mistake waiting to happen, Seth.”
He pressed a finger to her lips.
“Maybe it’s time we both stop blaming ourselves for things we can’t change.”
It sounded easy when he said it like that, but she knew it was much harder to do. Still, he was right. There was no changing the past. Maybe all they could do was accept their mistakes and move on. Make better choices.
Marissa leaned her head against Seth’s shoulder. She didn’t remember drifting off, but she awoke to someone gently shaking her shoulder. She blinked. Seth’s face hovered inches from hers.
“What time is it?” she asked, straightening in her chair. Her back was sore from sleeping in such an awkward position. She stretched her arms up high in the air and shifted, lengthening her spine.
“Late. I’m going to grab some coffee. Do you want some?”
She nodded and watched him leave the waiting room. His defenses were crumbling, but he wasn’t defenseless. She would protect him.
Evan trudged into the waiting room and slumped into the chair beside her, looking wasted. His dark hair was mussed, and she noticed his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes. He’d been crying, she realized. Dread pooled at the pit of her stomach.
“How’s Elizabeth?”
“Not good.”
He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his face in his hands.
“Lizzie has lung cancer. It’s spread to both of her lungs and her lymph nodes. There’s not much they can do at this stage except make her comfortable.”
Elizabeth was dying. The news was so shocking it was hard to absorb. It was unfair. The foundation Elizabeth had worked so hard to build would have to carry on without her. She wouldn’t be around to see all the comfort and help it would bring to those who needed it most. And just when Marissa was starting to find her footing, she would lose her mentor.
“How long does she have?”
“Not long. She’s been working too hard and not resting like she should. I’ve been nagging her, but . . .” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.
“And now she can rest,” Marissa said.
Evan stared down at the dirty blue carpet. Marissa squeezed his arm.
“She means a lot to you.”
“When everyone else in the family had written me off as a junkie loser, Lizzie refused to give up. God knows why. I went through rehab three times before kicking the habit. Lizzie helped me get straight.”
“And now look at you.”
He half smiled. “A lawyer who doesn’t practice.”
“You’ve been helping her launch the foundation.”
“I owe her so much.”
Marissa smiled gently. “We both do,” she said.
“She wants to see you.”
“I thought only family could visit.”
He shrugged, flipping his hands palms-up. “So you’re family.”
Marissa rose. On bare feet she left the waiting room and padded along the deserted corridor until she found the right room.
Elizabeth looked fragile. Blue and purple veins were visible beneath her parchment-white skin. A monitor beeped like a metronome counting off time. Marissa checked the digital displays. Pulse rate, oxygen, and half a dozen more readouts she didn’t understand. Elizabeth’s heartbeat arced across the screen in a jagged green line.
Turning back to the bed, Marissa saw Elizabeth’s cobalt eyes open. She inched closer to the bed, fingers curling around the plastic bed rail, and forced a weak smile.
“You gave us all quite a scare.”
“I always did like to make a grand exit,” Elizabeth croaked.
Talking triggered a violent coughing spasm, and Marissa grasped the cup of ice water beside the bed. Elizabeth locked her thin lips around the straw and sipped. Once she was satisfied, Marissa set the glass down.
Elizabeth grimaced and shifted on the bed. Marissa reached to help but was quickly shooed away.
“It was a good night.”
“A very good night,” Marissa agreed.
“Getting Dr. Frank to sign on was quite a coup, Marissa. You surprised me.”
“Money’s good, but I figure the foundation needs more than just donations.”
“Very true. The foundation needs you.”
Marissa shook her head. “I’m just an admin. You need smart people to help you run the foundation.”
“I could have hired an army of smart lawyers and entrepreneurs to fill your position, but I chose you. You are a fighter, Marissa. You are a single mother who defied all of the odds to build a better life for you and your daughters. You did this without an education, without money or resources to help you. Imagine how much more you could do with the foundation behind you. No one else I could have hired would understand what a family goes through when something like this happens. You do. You know what they’re going to need. I can hire people with specific expertise. What I cannot find is someone else like you.”
Elizabeth’s admission overwhelmed her. It was an awesome responsibility, and while she wasn’t sure she could live up to it, she knew she would do everything in her power to ensure the right things got done. She wanted to help other families. She wanted to make Elizabeth proud.
“Evan told me about your condition. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest and let us do some of the work for you while you focus on getting better.”
Elizabeth’s smile faded, and her eyes grew dim. Marissa wondered if she felt time running out. Behind her the monitors beeped in the silent room, like the ticking of a clock.
“I want you to have something.”
“Elizabeth, please. Just rest. We can talk more later.”
She didn’t want to hear another word. This sounded too much like a goodbye, but as usual Elizabeth ignored her. She held out her fisted hand. Confused, Marissa frowned. Elizabeth gripped Marissa’s hand and tipped it over. A warm weight filled Marissa’s palm. Stretching her fingers wide, Marissa found Elizabeth’s golden necklace winking in the cold light above the hospital bed.
“That necklace has been my touchstone, my talisman. It gave me strength through some of the darkest moments of my life. I want you to have it. Maybe it will give you str
ength as you find Brooke and bring her home.”
Tears brimmed over Marissa’s eyelids, scalding her cheeks. Before she could say anything, Elizabeth waved a hand.
“Go home, Marissa. It has been a long night. I need to sleep.”
Marissa squeezed the old woman’s cold hand, feeling the brittle bones beneath her flesh, the necklace gripped tight in her other hand.
“Thank you,” she said.
Elizabeth nodded. Then her blue eyes closed.
#
Seth parked outside Marissa’s house. She fingered the amulet hanging from the long chain around her neck. The size of a silver dollar, it was thin and round, engraved with what looked to be Egyptian symbols. She wondered what they meant.
Clenching it tight, she glanced over at Seth, his scarred profile half illuminated in the dashboard lights. The air between them hummed like a live current.
“I don’t suppose you want to come in?” she asked.
She expected a litany of excuses. I’m tired. It’s late. We shouldn’t. And while all of those things might be true, that didn’t make her want him any less.
Instead he pulled the keys from the ignition. The tightness in Marissa’s chest eased. Their eyes met, and she felt a jolt, like an electric shock, shiver through her.
Hands shaking, Marissa fumbled with the lock. Seth took the keys and unlocked the door.
Inside the darkened kitchen, she could hear the loud hum of the refrigerator. Now that he was here, she was suddenly a bundle of nerves.
“Would you like something to drink? Tea?”
Seth shook his head. He turned her slowly around to face him. Looking up, she saw the soft light burning in his eyes. Her hands gripped his waist. The heat of his skin radiated through the thin fabric of the tuxedo shirt. He ran his hands up her bare arms, and she shuddered. Finally his mouth lowered to hers. The kiss was soft, tender.
“Stay?” she asked, when he eased away.
“You sure?”
“Please.”
Seth nodded. Marissa pressed up onto her toes, and she kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Chapter 48
Seth woke with a start. This dream was different; he didn’t feel the typical panic of trying to rescue Holly from a burning house. While the particulars submerged into the murky recesses of his mind, one indelible image remained—a young man’s face.
Who was he, and where had Seth seen him? He struggled to remember. With everything that had happened—Elizabeth’s collapse, rushing to the hospital, coming home with Marissa—his mind was a jumble.
As the fuzzy edges of sleep cleared, it came to him. The benefit. Last night. This guy had been staring at Marissa. What had made him stand out? Eyes closed, Seth pictured the man’s face.
He’d seen the guy earlier in the night at the bar, where he’d traded banter with Jesse Morgan. But that wasn’t it. There was something else. Seth remembered the expression that had been on the guy’s face while he stared at Marissa. There had been something inappropriate about his look.
Compassion. Empathy. Sorrow. Even boredom. These were normal, predictable emotions congruent with the occasion, and Seth had seen them in spades when he looked out across the sea of assembled patrons. But the look on this man’s face had been wholly different—so much so, it had lodged in Seth’s subconscious.
Desire? Yes. And something else, something more insidious. Seth’s eyes snapped wide as he locked on the answer.
Contempt. Yes.
Experience had taught Seth never to ignore contempt. When suspects lied and proclaimed their indifference to the bad things that happened to their estranged partners—beatings, robberies, deaths—he watched closely for the slightest telltale flash of contempt on their faces. Part anger, part disgust, contempt was often a precursor to violence.
It was the same expression he’d seen on the face of the young man watching Marissa. Seth was certain of it. But why?
A heavy rain pattered on the tin roof above. Rolling onto his side, he saw Marissa in the dim light. The curve of her bare shoulder jutted above the blankets.
In the dark he listened to the sound of her soft, even breathing. Guilt and hope warred within him. Part of him still felt married to Holly, melded to her by the horrible memory of how she’d died. Part of him wanted to stay right here in this moment. Not worry about what would come next. He didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore.
Watching the rise and fall of Marissa’s breath, Seth knew there was no way he was getting back to sleep. Rather than wake her, he eased out of bed. He’d get an early start, dig into the young man’s identity, and figure out what grudge he held against Marissa, if any.
He dressed quietly in the dark and tiptoed out of the bedroom. Leaving before she woke felt wrong, like she was a one-night stand, but waiting was pointless. Sleep would do Marissa a world of good, and he needed to dig into his hunch.
Seth put a fresh pot of coffee on to brew. He scrawled a quick note on the back of an envelope and propped it against the coffee maker where she was sure to see it. Then, as quietly as he could, he closed the front door.
#
Seth arrived at the Holt Foundation just after 5:00 a.m. Looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, Henry Cahill sat slumped behind his computer, bundled in a black North Face fleece. Cahill thrust his arms up over his head and stretched. Long fingers ruffled the disheveled mop of red hair before coming to rest back on the keyboard.
“Tell me, Detective, do you always get hunches in the middle of the night?”
“Not always, but when I do, I go to work. Sleep is for pussies.”
“Is that what they teach you in the police academy?” Cahill smiled dryly. “To roust your colleagues in the middle of the night? We mere mortals cling to the notion of business hours.”
“I need you to access the footage from last night’s benefit.”
“Okay,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “What are we looking for?”
“Just get the video loaded. I’ll know him when I see him.”
“Him?” Cahill grunted. His eyebrows quirked as he stared at his screen.
Side by side they sifted through the footage. Seth found it hard to concentrate. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Marissa, golden and beautiful in her borrowed gown. He watched her greet each guest, making sure everyone’s needs were met.
What kind of a guy falls for a woman whose daughter has been kidnapped anyway?
He didn’t know. He had no idea what would come next, and for a man used to avoiding the unknown, it was a terrifying place to be. But as Seth watched Marissa on-screen, he felt something shift inside him. Right or wrong, there was no way he could walk away from her now. He cared about her too much.
Deep in thought, Seth almost missed the face he was looking for in the crowd.
“There,” he said, pointing at the screen. “That’s him.”
Cahill stopped the video and zoomed in on the young man’s face. It was the same guy Seth had seen at the bar, the same guy Jesse Morgan had recognized from one of the other places he worked.
“That’s him all right.”
Seth eyed Cahill with a quizzical look and Cahill grinned.
“No, Crawford, you don’t get it. It’s him.”
Cahill pulled up the enhanced photograph of Brooke with the mystery man at the bar and placed it beside the video feed. Crawford slapped the desk with his open palm. Dammit. How had he missed the connection?
“It’s the same guy,” Seth said.
“Exactly. Looks like your gut was right.”
Jesse Morgan had seen the guy before too, at the Chapel the night Brooke disappeared.
“I’ll run my facial recognition program to see if I can figure out who he is,” Cahill said.
“What database are you using for comparison?”
“You sure you want to know?”
Seth mulled the question over. If Cahill was going to cross an ethical boundary, how much did he want to kn
ow? Now that he was no longer a cop, he didn’t have to worry about the chain of evidence or fruit of the poisonous tree. All he cared about now was finding Brooke Parker. Still, old habits died hard.
“Tell me.”
“I’m going to use the DMV database as my baseline.”
“You don’t have access.”
Cahill’s grin widened, and Seth waved a dismissive hand, regretting the question. It disturbed him how easily accessible so-called secure systems were to the clever and the motivated.
Seth clapped Cahill on the shoulder and plucked his coat off the back of the rolling desk chair. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have my own low-tech ways of finding information.”
#
The florescent lights buzzed above the nurse’s station. The cold bluish light underscored the stern look on the nurse’s face. Visitors’ hours hadn’t officially begun, and the ICU had strict visitation rules.
“I need five minutes of Ms. Holt’s time. That’s all.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Detective Crawford, SPD.”
Her gaze narrowed, and she eyed him suspiciously. Impersonating a police officer was a felony. Seth knew if he got caught he’d find himself in a whole heap of shit. Still, he maintained eye contact. The nurse looked unimpressed.
“May I see your identification, Detective?”
She’d just called his bluff. A lame excuse wasn’t going to convince her. He couldn’t very well say he’d left his badge in his other pants without looking like a complete, utter asshole.
“I can’t impress upon you enough how critical it is I see Ms. Holt. Two minutes. No more. I promise.”
“Family only. I’m sorry. You need to go.”
The phone rang and she picked it up. She kept her gaze pinned on him, dashing any hopes he might have had about drifting down the hall while she was distracted. If she had kids, Seth was sure none of them put anything over on her. She was sharp.
Frustrated by his lack of authority and disappointed his ruse hadn’t worked, Seth stalked away from the nurse’s station. With a simple wave of his badge, he’d be striding into Elizabeth’s room right now, but without official status, he had to find another way to get what he wanted. He’d wait until shift change—maybe then he could slip past the nurse’s station and find Elizabeth.
In the Dark Page 27
