Sarah's Secrets

Royce braced himself for an ugly confrontation with a man he’d always respected. “So?”

“I’m asking for direction, Royce.”

“What?”

“This is what you’ve built your reputation on.”

Royce squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out a barrage of images from his past. When he’d begun his search for Sarah Mars, he’d never imagined it might lead him back into a past he hadn’t been able to handle. “I don’t do that anymore, Dylan. Give me a missing diplomat in a foreign country, not a kid. I left the FBI a while ago, Dylan. And for a reason. You know that.”

“I know you’re still called in when local law enforcement gets desperate. And I know you still come despite your reservations. You can’t walk away from a child in need, Royce.” Dylan’s fingers squeezed his shoulder, then slid away.

Although Dylan spoke the truth, he didn’t know what it cost Royce.

Another little piece of his soul. And he didn’t have much left to spare.

His gut tightened. If he were smart, he’d walk away now. No, he’d run. Nobody had guaranteed that Bart would come out of the coma. In fact, they all doubted he would. So maybe he’d never know Royce hadn’t kept his promise.

But Royce would know. He sighed.

“Dylan, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m called in after the fact. I’m called in to track down the missing person. Jeremy’s not missing.” He’d kept the Avalanche and the boy in his sight at all times. And a certain red-haired woman, too.

“I intend to keep it that way, Royce, but I need your help. I would handle it on my own, but with what’s going on with my wife…I’m too distracted.”

Another reason he was relieved he was still single, thought Royce, as he saw the agony of worry in the sheriff’s blue eyes.

“I hate to ask because I know you’re already working on something. But Royce, this is my nephew. And the theft of those medical records…”

Royce nodded. “It’s not good.”

“That’s happened before?”

He nodded. “Yeah, kidnappers like to know about the kid’s medical conditions. If they’re not close enough to the kid personally, they’ll steal records. That way they know what meds he’s on, that sort of thing.”

Dylan groaned. “I knew it was a bad sign.”

Royce lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Could be a good sign, too. They want to keep him alive.”

He’d seen other cases where the kidnappers hadn’t cared. His stomach burned, the ulcers he’d left behind with the FBI threatening to return.

“So that note wasn’t the joke Sarah believes it is.”

Royce narrowed his eyes on the red-haired woman who stared back at him, her chin lifted at a challenging angle. “No, Sarah doesn’t believe that.”

A ragged sigh gusted out of Dylan. “I need your help, Royce. I need to keep Jeremy and his mother safe, and with Lindsey’s precarious medical condition, I’m not going to be able to do it alone.”

“Was their address on these medical records?” he asked.

“No, Sarah and Jeremy just moved into a friend’s house. I’m sure their records had the old address.” The sheriff blew out a relieved breath.

“Okay, I’ll drive them home. That’s all I can promise for now. We’ll talk more later.”

Dylan nodded. “I know you have other obligations. I appreciate whatever you can do.” He squeezed Royce’s shoulder again and walked back to his deputy, leaving Royce standing alone in the middle of the lot.

He glanced back at his friend and intercepted the dark stare of the younger officer. Resentment radiated from Deputy Jones. He’d gladly drive the young widow and her son home. Royce could retrieve his keys from Sarah and leave Winter Falls. He could pretend he’d never found Sarah Mars.

“Mr. Graham!” Jeremy called out and called him back to his past. He never could walk away from a child in need. Damn.

“Yeah, Jeremy?” Long strides carried him toward the boy and his mother, who stubbornly hadn’t used his keys to get inside his truck.

“I know you’re busy and all, but a lot of the team stops for ice cream after practice…” Hope brightened the already bright eyes.

Royce’s gut tightened. More exposure to danger. But was going straight to their house the best idea? What if the danger had followed him? Wouldn’t it continue to follow him right to their doorstep?

“Jeremy.” Sarah’s voice carried a note of caution. Something Royce had heard friends’ mothers use on their sons. He couldn’t remember his own mother’s voice.

Jeremy turned those eyes on her. “But maybe Mr. Graham’s hungry.”

Royce suppressed a chuckle, barely. The irritated frown creasing her forehead verified she’d caught it despite his attempt to disguise it as a cough. He liked messing her up a bit, ruffling that serenity she wore like a shield. He’d like to see another kind of passion on her face besides that of anger. He’d like to see her flushed with desire.

He swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m a little hungry.” And a lot crazy. What the Hell was he thinking?

“Really, I think it’d be smarter to just go home,” Sarah protested.

Playing the unfamiliar role of gentleman, Royce opened the passenger door for her while Jeremy vaulted into the backseat. When she moved to climb into the SUV, Royce stepped closer. Her indignant gasp brushed across his cheek. And he dragged in the scent of her again. Orange blossoms.

He dropped his voice and lowered his mouth until his lips brushed the silky strands of hair near her ear. “It might be smarter not to go straight to your house, if you know what I mean.”

Eyes wild, she glanced over his shoulder and around the lot. “You’re saying—”

He shook his head. “I’m not saying anything. But I’m not taking any chances.”

That was a lie. He’d taken a big chance by not running when his instincts had first kicked him.

Sarah’s gray gaze locked with his, searching. He knew she wanted a reason to trust him. She was too smart to take him on Dylan’s endorsement alone. What would she do when he told her he’d come to Winter Falls for her? Dylan had warned him that she didn’t forgive easily.

SARAH SHIFTED on the metal seat of the lawn chair, hoping the sun-heated steel would warm her. A cold wind blew in off the lake as the afternoon wore on. She glanced out over the sparkling surface of the water. Then her gaze returned to Jeremy.

He’d already devoured his ice cream and lingered on the lawn that surrounded the parlor as he talked with his friends. He gestured a couple of times to Royce, and the other boys stared at the man beside her. An ex-FBI agent. Despite not being in hearing distance, she knew her son spoke in awed tones about the stranger to Winter Falls.

She’d been trying to avoid looking at him even though he sat next to her. Still bristling over his and Dylan’s high-handedness, she’d let Jeremy carry the conversational ball during the short ride to the parlor. He’d been full of questions. She was, too, but she couldn’t ask them here. The parents of the other children stood or sat around in close proximity.

Curiosity drew their glances again and again to her and her scruffy escort. A voice dropped into a whisper here and there as they discussed the possible identity of the stranger and his relationship to her. She heard them. And her throat burned with questions of her own.

She wanted to know what the theft of those medical records meant. An ache throbbed behind her eyes. Tension. Stress. As a nurse, she recognized the symptoms. As an ex-FBI agent, he’d know what that theft meant, especially considering what he’d specialized in then and now. Kidnappings.

She turned her attention from Jeremy’s playful antics with his friends to the man who lounged next to her. Despite having glimpsed them earlier in the park, the color of his eyes surprised her again. Pale brown like sun-warmed sand.

Ice cream dripped from his collapsing cone, over his long fingers and onto the lawn between his worn leather shoes. He leaned forward and ran his tongue around the rim of the cone, then over his fingers.

The muscles in Sarah’s stomach contracted, and she shifted against the metal, stiffening her spine against the hard chair back. If she kissed him now, he’d taste like rich vanilla ice cream, and his tongue would be cold against hers.

She jumped, the chair creaking under her. What was she thinking? She’d never kiss a man like him, no matter how long it had been since she’d kissed any man. He was too macho, too controlling. And Sarah had never let anyone control her, not even the parents she’d loved so much.

“You sure you don’t want an ice cream cone?” He’d caught her staring.

A flood of heat surged into her face, and she welcomed the cooling breeze against her fevered skin. “N-n-no. I’m not hungry.”

The corners of his mouth quirked into a teasing grin. “It’d cool you off.”

“What!”

“You’re still mad, right?” He reached around and dumped the dilapidated cone into the trashcan behind her, his arm lingering on the back of her chair.

The nape of her neck tingled where it brushed the skin of his forearm. She leaned forward, breaking away from the disturbing contact. “Mad? Of course I’m mad. I can give directions to where I live. I’m not some ditzy female with no sense of direction.”

He nodded, the teasing grin still playing at the corners of his firm mouth.

“But you weren’t discussing directions, were you?” She sighed over the frustration of having to leave her other questions unasked for now.

“I think you should take us home now. Jeremy probably has homework.” And if he didn’t do it on Friday night, he wouldn’t get around to it again until Monday morning.

Royce didn’t move to stand up, just stretched out those long legs. “He’s having fun with his friends. It’s early yet, and the weekend. Homework’s not due till Monday, right? I don’t mind waiting for him.”

Resentment flared again. “But you’re not—”

Detecting a lull in the flow of conversation around her, she glanced up and found curious gazes focused on her. She bit off her argument and pulled on the mask of calmness she always wore in Winter Falls.

He sighed. “You’re right.”

She dropped her voice. “What are you talking about?”

“You were going to say that I’m not a parent. You’re right. If you think you need to head home so the kid can get started on homework or whatever, we’ll leave now.” He shifted to the edge of his seat.

With his easy agreement, her anxiousness to leave ebbed away. She found comfort in the normal after-practice ritual of stopping for ice cream. But back at the house, she’d have to face the harsh reality of the threat against her son.

“We can give him another few minutes. If you think it’s safe…”

His broad-shouldered shrug wasn’t very reassuring. “As safe as anywhere…”

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and his stare was unfocused. Was he thinking of his past with the Crimes Against Children Division of the FBI? Or was something in the present troubling him?

Despite the questions she wanted to ask him about the stolen medical records, she found herself wondering aloud, “Why are you here? Dylan said that you were on a job but it was personal. What is it?”

The strong line of his jaw grew tauter. “Sarah…”

“I understand that you probably can’t tell me. Confidentiality rules with a client—”

He shook his head, the dark-golden hair flirting with his shirt collar. “Not this client. I’m not doing this job for money.”

For love. He didn’t have to say it; the words were etched in the worry lines bracketing his mouth and eyes. “It is personal,” he added.

“I didn’t mean to pry.” And she was aghast at her lack of manners. She’d made a vow long ago always to respect the privacy of others. And hope they respected hers.

His light-brown eyes swirled with indiscernible emotions. “You’re not prying. In fact, I plan to tell you all about it. I have to tell you all about it. Later.”

She shivered. “I don’t understand…”

“You will.”

A bead of cold sweat rolled down between her breasts. She couldn’t handle anything else right now. Opening her mouth to demand answers, she glanced around at the interested faces of the other ice cream parlor patrons. Then she swallowed her questions.

They didn’t need to hear anything else. They already knew too much about her life. Her teenage pregnancy. Her adopted brother’s crime. Her marriage to a wealthy older man.

They knew enough to resent her. Perhaps enough to send her a threatening letter in order to shake up her composure. But did they resent her enough to harm her child?

ROYCE RUBBED his knuckles over his aching side. Too much ice cream? He doubted it. He’d hardly managed a few licks between watching Sarah and her son. And the townspeople.

While friends surrounded Jeremy, people hung back from his mother as if glass walls separated her from the rest of the world. Maybe she was a snob. He figured she looked down her pert little nose at him, but she didn’t seem to disparage any of those around her. Although a cool smile played around her mouth, she didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

She almost acted as if she were ashamed. Of what? Of her marriage to an older guy? Of inheriting his money? How much money? Enough to make her son a prime target for a kidnapper?

He wished he could accept he had nothing to do with the threat against her son. But he’d stopped believing in coincidences long ago.

He glanced around, meeting the curious gazes of the people around them and searching beyond. The hair lifted on the nape of his neck. He knew someone was watching them, someone other than the parents of the other children.

But nobody would be foolhardy enough to attempt to abduct the boy with half of the town to witness and interfere. And as popular as the kid was, he traveled nowhere without his friends. He was probably safest in public, but in private…

“Jeremy, it’s time to go,” Sarah said, stopping a few feet from her son.

“Mom…”

“Jeremy, we have a guest.”

The boy flashed a smile at Royce. “Mr. Graham, I’d like you to meet my friends…”

Young faces swam before Royce’s eyes. Despite the cooling breeze, sweat beaded on his brow. These lively faces melded with images from the past. Staring eyes in dead faces… He jerked back a step. “I—I’d like to, but I have to make a call.”

The lie came easily but prompted him to remember Dylan. He should let the sheriff know they’d stopped off before heading back to Sarah’s. And maybe he should get those directions.

He dragged his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll head back to the SUV while you say a quick goodbye.”

Sarah’s dark-gray eyes widened, and she took a step toward him. He lifted a hand and gestured with his head toward her son. She nodded and turned back to Jeremy. Whatever concern she’d felt for him had been replaced with a mother’s worry for her son.

He didn’t care. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone’s concern. The only one who’d ever really cared about him lay in a coma.

He rubbed his free hand over his unshaven jaw. He had to get Sarah back to Milwaukee, to a dying man’s bedside. But how would he get her away from Winter Falls?

Because they’d been later than the rest of the team to the ice cream parlor, he’d had to park the Avalanche around the block. He started toward the silver SUV, his finger hovering on the buttons of the cell phone. He’d neglected to get Dylan’s number. Did this little town even use 911?

Underneath the carriage of the SUV a shadow fell across the pavement. Someone crouched on the other side. Waiting for what?

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and slowed his stride. Stealthy steps carried him around the short pickup box on the back of the SUV.

A sweatshirt hood concealed the face of the person who crouched near the rear tire, his back to Royce. Royce widened his stance on the asphalt. He had just reached his arm to wrap around the would-be attacker’s neck when a hand came up.

The blade of a knife flashed, reflecting the afternoon sun. Had Royce’s approach been reflected in the shiny metal of the SUV?

He braced for an attack.

Chapter Three

Royce clutched at the wrist of the hand that held the knife, ramming the knuckles against the side of the truck box.

Curses filled the air, some his. Then the knife clattered across the asphalt.

A high-pitched yelp of pain drowned out his curses. He lifted the would-be attacker, flinging his body against the SUV. Then he dragged back the sweatshirt hood.

Bleached-out hair stood up in spikes, and tears trailed down peachfuzz-covered cheeks. A teenage kid? “What the hell were you doing with that knife?”

The kid trembled. “I—I—”

Royce glanced down, noting the small gash in the tread of the rear tire. “Slashing my tires?”

“You hurt my hand!” The kid’s voice hitched in a sob.

“I’d call us even then. Why my tires? You don’t even know me.”

A warning pain tightened Royce’s gut. He clutched the kid’s sweatshirt, shaking him a bit. Something rustled in the pocket. Royce reached in and drew out a ripped half of a hundred-dollar bill. “Who gave you this?”

Tears dripped off the kid’s quivering chin. “I don’t know, man. Someone slipped it under the bathroom stall. Told me to slash all the tires of the silver Avalanche and I’d get the other half.”

“Where? What bathroom?”

“At the ice cream parlor.”

God, he’d left Sarah and Jeremy alone. From this side of the block, he couldn’t make out the lawn of the parlor. He dropped the kid, letting him sag against the box and vaulted around the SUV. Rubber soles pounding on the cement, he ran down the sidewalk, pushing aside people leaving the gathering spot on their way back to their vehicles.

“Someone call the police!” he shouted.

He searched the crowd around the parlor for a flash of red and gold, desperate for a sight of Sarah and Jeremy.

“Sarah!”

“Royce, what’s going on?” Concern deepened the gray of her wide eyes.

“Where’s Jeremy?”

“The bathroom—”

He clutched her shoulders, nearly shaking her. “Where is it?”

“Around the side—”

He followed the direction in which she swung her arm, tearing around the corner of the brick parlor. He skidded to a halt at the bathroom’s open door. Small clouds of smoke billowed past him. He paused on the threshold, his shadow falling across a small group of pre-teen boys.

A few of them cursed as they jumped. One dropped a cigarette and crushed it beneath the rubber sole of his running shoe.

Jeremy ran up to Royce. “Don’t tell Mom, okay? She’ll freak.” He lowered his voice and sidled closer. “I didn’t smoke, I swear. Did she send you in here?”

Royce’s heart thudded heavily against his ribs. He stalked past the boys and kicked open the stall doors. Nobody lingered inside. He turned to meet the nervous gazes that skittered away from his. “I didn’t see anything, okay? It’s your health. Pretty stupid and I bet the sheriff would love to get his hands on whoever gave you the cigarettes. But I want to know something else.”

“What?” Jeremy asked.

“Did you guys see anyone slinking around here?”

“Like who?”

“A stranger. Or maybe somebody you know acting strange.”

A cocky smile split the face of the kid with the butt under his shoe. “Other than you?”

His patience wearing thin, Royce stepped closer to the boy. “I don’t have time for this. I just caught a kid slashing my tires. While he was inside this bathroom, some guy slipped him half a hundred-dollar bill to do it.”

Sirens echoed off the cement walls, heralding the arrival of Winter Falls’s finest.

“I didn’t see anyone, Mr. Graham.” Jeremy’s voice cracked. Whether with fear or hormones, Royce couldn’t guess. But he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Jeremy was all right.

He had to tell Sarah. He turned to the doorway and found her leaning against the jamb. Her smoky eyes full of questions, she stared at him. “Dylan’s here, talking with some kid who’s a little bruised.”

One of the boys gasped.

Royce dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled a breath of relief. The kid with the knife hadn’t run for it. Any other city, any other kid, and he would have been gone before Royce had released his shirt. The kid had to know more, had to have some clue to the identity of Jeremy’s would-be kidnapper.

Or was there a kidnapper? Was it all the sick joke Sarah was desperate to label it? He hoped so, but the muscles tightened in his gut again. Instinct told him this was no joke. And that it had everything to do with his search for Sarah.

SARAH FUMBLED with the security pad by the front door, very aware of the tall, lean man who hovered too close behind her. His heat dampened the silk of her blouse, molding it to her back. With trembling fingers she flung open the door and stepped inside her temporary home.

Her entire body vibrated with anger she could barely contain. She wanted answers to questions she hadn’t been able to ask in front of Jeremy. While Royce and Dylan had questioned the kid Royce had caught slashing his tires, she had kept Jeremy occupied by helping him with his homework at one of the parlor’s outside tables. For once he wouldn’t have to do it while eating breakfast Monday morning.

Jeremy bounded past the adults, oblivious to the tension radiating between them. For that she could be thankful. For the moment. He skidded across the slate flooring. “I’m gonna take a shower, Mom.”

To wash away the traces of cigarette smoke still clinging to his hair and clothes. She hoped he hadn’t been smoking. A pre-teen rebellion was the last thing she had envisioned for Jeremy. She had thought he would be smarter than she’d been.

“Nice house.” The voice rumbled close behind her.

Sarah jumped, not that she’d forgotten his presence. How could she forget the stranger in her home? “It’s not mine. I’m staying here while I’m having a new place built.”

“You must have good references.”

She braced herself to face him, turning her head and finding him close. The warmth of those sandy-brown eyes wrapped around her, stealing the heat from her anger.

“I…uh…” What had she been about to say?

“Good security system, too.”

She heaved a sigh of relief when he moved away to walk across the slate floor to the security panel by the sliders. She wanted this stranger out of her home. Her questions could wait until Dylan returned from talking to people around the ice cream parlor. “You don’t need to stay until Dylan gets here. Jeremy and I are perfectly safe.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. “No, I need to wait for Dylan.”

For what? To make sure Dylan was here before he left? But somehow she didn’t think he had any intention of leaving. Yet.

“And anyway, I said good system, not great. Not foolproof.”

She shivered and admitted to the fear in her heart. She didn’t want to be alone right now. But perhaps being alone was safer than being with this stranger. She knew his reputation and that most people considered him a hero; Dylan considered him a friend. But he was no friend of hers. Whatever he had alluded to back at the parlor that he had to tell her, she knew she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t care why he’d come to Winter Falls; she just wanted him gone.

“Evan bought the top-of-the-line system,” she said.

He lifted a brow until it disappeared into the hair hanging over his forehead. “Evan?”

“The owner. He’s staying in an apartment in Traverse City right now when he’s not traveling.” She’d lived in the town twenty minutes away, too, before her husband’s fatal heart attack. Afterwards the house they’d shared had seemed too big and empty, especially for Jeremy. Knowing Winter Falls was a good place to raise a child, she’d wrestled her bad memories, buried her pride and returned to her hometown.

He nodded. “Well, Evan bought last year’s security system.”

“Of course…he built this house a year ago.” She wanted to remain in the hall, anywhere but near him. Yet, she needed to see what he saw. Her heels clicked as she crossed the floor to the patio doors. The scent of butterscotch wafted over her when he turned his head.