Silent Run - Barbara Freethy [25]
“You have a bad habit of wanting to rescue people,” Dylan said. “You spent half our childhood rescuing me, remember?”
“Yeah, well, someone had to. Look, she’s not playing me, all right? I haven’t forgotten what she did. But the situation is more complicated now. It’s not just about Sarah walking out on me. There’s a lot more at stake. Right before Sarah was attacked earlier, she told me that she dreamed she saw someone get shot. If she witnessed a murder, then that could be why someone is after her.”
Curiosity sparked in Dylan’s eyes. “A murder, huh? What else did she see in her dream?”
“She saw the arm of the man who was holding the gun. He had a tattoo of a tiger on his wrist. She couldn’t identify where she was, but she felt like she was in hiding. The man said, ‘I want the girl.’ Jake drew in a sharp breath as the words reminded him that that girl could be his daughter. “Then he took a shot at someone.”
Dylan’s lips tightened. “Is that it?”
“Sarah saw blood, but that’s all she remembers. When she woke up, there was a man in her room trying to smother her with a pillow.”
“Right,” Dylan said. “Well, at least some information is coming back into her head. Although she never seems to remember enough, does she—just little teasing bits. When did this alleged murder happen? While she was with you? After she left you?”
“I think it was before she left me—maybe the reason she ran.”
“If it happened while she was with you, why wouldn’t she tell you, go to the police, ask for help?” Dylan gave a warning shake of his head. “Don’t start giving Sarah reasons for running off with your kid.”
“I’m putting the facts together.”
“Just don’t manipulate the facts to paint the picture you’re looking for. If you let that woman convince you that she’s some innocent—”
“She’s not going to convince me of anything that isn’t true,” Jake interrupted. “But I can’t ignore what Sarah tells me. My daughter’s life is at stake.”
Dylan nodded, conceding the point. “All right. It’s not much to go on, but I can look through the crime files. We might get lucky on the tattoo. It could represent some kind of gang affiliation. If it means something, I’ll figure it out.” He stopped talking as Sarah came through the door. “Was it the right wrist or the left?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“The tattoo on the arm of the killer in your dream.”
“You told him about that?” she asked Jake.
“Why not? It might help us figure out who you are.”
“I guess,” she said. “It was the right wrist, I think . . . I don’t know. It’s hazy now.”
Jake could see that Sarah’s vague reply only deepened the skepticism in Dylan’s eyes.
“Of course it’s hazy,” Dylan said. “What else would it be?”
Sarah’s back stiffened. She shot Dylan an angry look. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not, but I’ve told the truth to every question that I’ve been asked since I woke up in this hospital room.”
Jake was surprised by Sarah’s strong response. It occurred to him that he’d never seen her react with anger toward anyone in the two years they’d been together. She’d always kept her feelings in check, her expression pleasant. She’d been a people pleaser, not someone who liked to stir things up, or even a person willing to continue an argument. She’d done everything she could to avoid conflict, usually by giving in.
But this new Sarah, who couldn’t remember who she was, had also forgotten how to stay neutral, how to keep herself from showing emotion. In some odd way he thought he might be closer to getting to know the real her than he had ever been.
Sarah slipped her feet into her tennis shoes and then sat down on the bed to lace them. Her hands shook, reminding Jake that she’d come very close to losing her life. She certainly wasn’t faking the bruises and the injuries she’d suffered, nor the pain in her eyes. He told himself not to feel sorry for her. Sarah deserved the same kind of pain he’d been living through for the past seven months and more.
Sarah finished tying her shoes and stood up, facing him with determination in her blue eyes.