by Jodie Bailey
“And we’re no closer to finding her family.” Will exhaled loudly. “I told him I’d focus some more on that as soon as I wrap this case up and we put this smuggler away.”
“We all said the same. The team’s committed to finding her son and his family, no matter where he’s hiding.”
Bettina Seaver’s son, Phillip—a committed survivalist—had disappeared into the wilderness outside Anchorage with his family. Locating him was proving to be tougher than some of their actual criminal cases. “When a man doesn’t want to be found, there are plenty of ways to stay hidden.”
Sean nodded. “And our missing groom and best man are a case in point. But you were talking about your smuggler. Any thoughts there?”
Pointing three fingers in a silent command for Scout to lay on his bed, Will stood and walked to the window. He peeked through the curtains at the nearly empty parking lot, then let the fabric fall. He shouldn’t risk being spotted, although he seriously doubted they’d been followed.
Still, two state trooper K-9 SUVs in one place were tough to hide from anyone who knew Jasmine was with them. They’d parked in the back but, if someone was searching, it would only be a matter of time. He swished the curtain with his index finger, then stared at the thin line of light that etched the ceiling from the window. “You want facts or my gut?”
“I know the facts. Let’s hear what your gut has to say. It’s usually a pretty good indicator of where to go next.”
Will grinned. It might sound strange to anyone on the outside, but “gut instinct” was a real thing. It was born out of training and listening to their subconscious minds. The little details in the “back rooms” of their brains were often the ones that yielded the best clues.
Then again, sometimes they were wrong. “So, I’m not a fan of Jasmine’s boss, Keith Hawkins. Something about him didn’t sit right with me.”
“Same.” When Will turned, Sean was lying with his hands laced behind his head, staring at the ceiling. “What’s bugging you could be the way he was more worried about his damaged planes than he was about the woman who was piloting them.”
“Could be.” That had definitely rubbed Will the wrong way.
“Okay, but let me play the opposite side. He did see the planes before he saw her. Maybe he’s one of those guys who can only deal with one thing at a time, and he prioritizes what’s right in front of him.”
“Could be. But it also could have been an act. He seemed a little too smooth.”
“Are you saying that because of your gut or because of the girl?”
Will’s shoulders stiffened. “What does that mean?”
Sean simply shrugged. “Let’s follow the trail with this Keith guy and see where we end up. He operates an air freight service with his brother, so he has the perfect setup for running drugs into the bush.”
“That’s one strike.” Will dropped into the chair by the window and stretched his legs out, studying the toes of his boots. He’d have to polish them tonight if he was going to wear them tomorrow. And he still needed a shower, but all of that could wait. “So let’s think about why he would put Jasmine in the crosshairs with a false tip. It brings us sniffing close to his operation if he’s involved.” He glanced at Scout and smiled. “No pun intended.”
“That was bad.” Sean chuckled but kept his focus on the ceiling. “However, if he didn’t have any drugs on the premises at the moment and he knew Jasmine’s plane was clean, then what better way to throw suspicion off himself than to call in a fake tip on one of his pilots?”
“And based on build, neither of the brothers was the one who attacked me last night. Which means we have nothing to go on except my gut.” Will groaned and, when he did, his stomach growled. “My very hungry gut. I haven’t had a decent meal in two days, and we missed lunch. Although I did have an amazing homemade ham biscuit this morning.”
His breakfast seemed like it had been days ago. He sat up in the chair and dragged his hand down his face, realizing he also needed to shave. It was early evening on a day that had technically begun the day before, and he was ready to feel human again. “Let’s get some dinner sent here for us and for Jasmine. Then after I get cleaned up we can go talk to her.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Sean sat up and pulled his phone from its holster at his hip. “It’s possible she’s seen something suspicious and doesn’t even recognize it. We have to question her.”
Jasmine wouldn’t like it, not as close as she held her personal life to her vest. But Will had to know everything about her if he was going to save her from a smuggler who was intent on silencing her.
TEN
Fluffing her hair with her fingers, Jasmine crossed the small room and dropped into a chair at a small table. With the curtains closed and the lights on, the room swam in a half darkness that felt more like night than day.
She stared at the TV, not really seeing the people on the screen. Her laptop and some books were in her backpack, but a dull headache driven by stress and lack of sleep made the prospect of either feel like unnecessary torture.
Her stomach tightened and a shudder ran through her. Jasmine pulled her knees to her chest and planted her feet in the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs. This was all too familiar. The sudden flight... The out-of-the-way motel. She’d done this before and had spent too many nights praying she’d never have to do it again.
It was times like these when she missed her mom the most. Always her confidant, always the one with the quiet words to calm Jasmine’s heart. The one who had led her to Jesus.
Jesus. Why hadn’t she at least thought to grab her Bible?
A Bible.
Jumping up from the chair, she headed for the nightstand between the beds, praying all the way. She eased open the drawer with her bottom lip between her teeth and...
Yes! A blue hard-backed Bible rested in the drawer. With a quick thank you, she pulled it out and sat cross-legged on the bed, heading for the verse that had gotten her through the last time she’d had to run for her life. She flipped to the fifth chapter of Hebrews and let her finger skim to verses five and six, where she’d camped for so many months. Even though she could recite it by heart, there was something about reading the printed words that solidified the truth inside her. I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.
There was nothing any man could do to her. Breathing in the peace of that truth, she thumbed over to Psalm 18, the one Deputy Marshal Maldonado had suggested on the night she walked away from her life as Yasmine Carlisle forever. He’d called it the “not My baby” psalm, because God came to the rescue of His child, angry at those who came against His own.
Jasmine shut her eyes. Even now, God saw her. Even now, God protected her. Even now—
Three taps on the interior door pulled her eyes open.
“Jasmine?” Her name came quietly, followed by another tap. “Can I come in?” Will’s voice filtered through the door softly, as though he was afraid he’d wake her up if she’d actually taken the nap she’d threatened to take.
Laying the Bible aside, she slid to the end of the bed, planted her feet on the floor and dragged her fingers through her still-damp hair. “Come in.”
Will eased the door open and peeked around it. “Got time to talk for a minute?”
“Sure.”
He stepped into the room and left the adjoining door open. He glanced around, then grabbed a chair from the small table and dragged it over, sitting almost knee to knee with her. Glancing behind her, he tilted his head. “You were reading the Bible?”
“And praying.”
“Didn’t you pray this morning?”
She drew her eyebrows together. “I pray whenever I need to.”
“My day’s too full and moves too fast to pray all the time.”
“That
’s exactly why I have to pray whenever I need Him.” She pulled at a loose thread on the bedspread. While God was a huge part of her life, she wasn’t used to talking about Him quite so openly.
“And that’s why I make sure to never miss my morning devotion.”
“Your devotion? Or your prayers? Because those are two different things. One is learning and listening. One is communicating with—”
Will held his hand up. “Are you about to question my relationship with Jesus?” The words sounded like he was trying to be lighthearted, but something in his eyes was hard.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s personal, between you and Him.” Even though his regimented schedule sounded more like work than a relationship. “I’m just saying you need both in your life. Prayer and—”
“I had a couple of questions, if that’s okay.”
Jasmine nodded. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. And as she analyzed her words and realized how harsh and judgmental they sounded, she probably wouldn’t want to talk to her either. “You can ask me whatever if it will get me home again.”
For the first time, she took a good look at him. He’d showered and exchanged his uniform for jeans and a gray long-sleeved T-shirt. He smelled like soap and shampoo. She couldn’t deny that he looked very different in “civilian” clothes. The whole picture humanized him even more. Will was no longer the state trooper fighting to stop the drug trade. He was also the guy who knew more about her real life than anyone else, the fierce protector who had inexplicably managed to become her friend.
Since she hadn’t looked twice at a man since her new life began over two years earlier, the feeling was too weird to process.
“Jasmine?”
She shook her head, bringing herself back into the present. “I’m sorry. I zoned out on you.”
He looked over his shoulder at the other room before turning to her. “Sean’s ordering food as soon as he gets out of the shower. You have a preference?”
“Not pizza.” She needed a real meal. And the way her stomach tensed, pizza wouldn’t help anything.
“I was thinking a burger.”
“You seem the burger type.”
He arched an eyebrow and smiled. “You think you know me?”
Actually, she did, which was kind of scary. “Maybe. But how about The Cookie Jar? They deliver, and I could go for their country fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. They have burgers, too.”
“Changed my mind about the burger.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and texted something, then leaned forward and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
That move definitely put him in her personal space for the split second it took him to pocket the device.
She tried not to notice and shifted her focus to the real issue. The tranquility she’d felt only moments before shattered. “I think my identity’s been compromised.” Tears stung her eyes, and it hurt her entire body to say it. The ache came from deep inside her heart and radiated outward. “I don’t want to disappear again.” She pushed up and walked to the window, staring at the beige curtains, not daring to peek outside.
“I don’t think so.” Will’s voice was low and soft, almost as peaceful as the words she’d read earlier.
But not nearly peaceful enough.
“Jasmine, I’ve been in touch with Deputy Marshal Maldonado several times, including ten minutes ago. There’s nothing to indicate you’ve been found. He’s had extra eyes put on Anton Rogers in prison. The man hasn’t talked to a soul since long before you started working with me.”
“What about before?” She spun on her heel and walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. He had to understand how terrified she was. “What if—”
Standing, Will closed the space between them and lightly grasped her upper arms. “Look at me.” When she lifted her chin, he dipped his so he could meet her eye. “I’m going to keep you safe.”
“How?” The single word was weak and whiny. She hated the sound.
“I will.” His eyes searched hers, looking deep as though he could force her to believe him. “Trust me.”
But she couldn’t. Something inside drove her to flight. Holding up her hands, she backed away. Her heart skittered and fear coursed through her in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d first agreed to testify. It tingled in her skin and raced through her veins. “I can’t.” She was headed straight into a panic attack. “Why is this all so hard now?” It wasn’t about the shooting or the plane or her apartment. It was something bubbling to the surface, something she couldn’t fight.
Will grabbed her hands. “Breathe in. Take a big, deep breath and hold it.”
She tugged, but he didn’t let go.
“You can do this. Big breath. Hold it while I count. You ready?” His words were low and soothing. “Come on. In...”
Fighting the instinct to break free, Jasmine drew in a shaky breath and held it while Will slowly counted down from four.
“Breathe out while I count.” Once again, he counted from four to one. “Now in.”
It might have been his calm voice. The measured breathing. Or it might have been the desperate prayers her brain heaved toward heaven. Whatever it was, her emotions slowed down until she no longer felt like fleeing into the woods was her only option.
Will squeezed her fingers. “Better now?”
“Where did you learn that?”
“Believe it or not, in the army.” He gave her hands one more squeeze then released them.
Jasmine waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she breathed in another slow breath. “Thank you.”
“I think I know why it’s bothering you now.” Will dragged the chair over to the room’s small table and indicated she should sit before he took the one across from her. He clasped his hands on the tabletop. “You’re feeling overly emotional because you don’t have to keep it inside.”
“I don’t understand.” She’d managed to hold it together for over two years. Falling apart was not an option, especially not when this man and the people on the frontier needed her the most.
“I know your truth, and you finally have an opportunity to be your real self. It’s all bubbling to the surface because it can.”
She looked up from his fingers to his warm brown eyes, which watched her with an understanding she’d never witnessed before, not even from the therapist she’d worked with in WITSEC. This wasn’t just a job for Will. He actually cared.
Jasmine drew her lips between her teeth and let him watch her, trying to untangle her thoughts. “Nobody understands what it’s like to basically die. I look in the mirror, and I still see Yas—” She bit off the name—her name—and started again. “I look in the mirror and I see someone who doesn’t exist anymore. There’s only Jasmine. Who has no memories. Who has no past. Who is alive but is a made up, fictional person.” Sitting back in the chair, she crossed her arms over her stomach. “How do I do this for the rest of my life? It’s like being on stage all the time and never being allowed to step out of character to breathe.”
Without a word, Will waited. Listened.
“I’m so tired of playing a part. And if Jasmine goes away, too, then I’m so terrified I’ll lose myself forever.” The words were a harsh whisper, riding the edge of tears she didn’t want to shed. She closed her eyes to keep them at bay.
There was a soft rustle, then the chair turned slightly. She opened her eyes to find Will kneeling in front of her, his hands on the arms of the chair. “You will always be you. No matter what your name is or where you live, you will never cease to exist.”
“How do you know?”
He brushed a stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, before he rested his palm against her cheek and caught her gaze. “Because I know you.”
The air between them charged with something more than comfort.
When
he laid his other hand against her cheek, everything else fell away. There was only right now.
There was only Will.
* * *
He really did know exactly who Jasmine Jefferson was.
In the moment he talked her down from her panic attack, while his eyes were locked on hers, he’d known. He’d backed away because of the force of that knowing.
But now, kneeling before her with her face cradled in his hands, there was no retreating. There was something about being the one person in her entire everyday world who knew who she really was that reached out and burrowed into his soul. And it made him feel strong. Capable of anything.
Even of trusting someone with his heart again.
She felt it, too, leaning toward him slightly, the expression in her eyes different somehow. She knew—
“So you want a burger? That’s what I’m hearing?”
Will dropped his hands from Jasmine’s face and broke away so fast, he nearly fell backward. Instead, he scrambled to his feet, shaking his head.
What in the world had he been about to do?
Sean appeared in the doorway staring at his phone screen. “I’ve always wanted to eat at The Cookie Jar. Saw it on some food channel once.” He lifted his head and looked between the two of them. His expression shifted into a question, as though he could feel the charge in the air.
“You watch food TV in your spare time? Maybe we could have you cook dinner instead of ordering out.”
Cocking his head like Scout did when he was confused, Sean tried to read Will before he answered. “I watched with Ivy once.” Almost as though he regretted bringing the past up, Sean lifted his phone. “I’ll have them deliver.” He disappeared into the other room, and his voice soon drifted back, placing the order.
“Who’s Ivy?” Behind him, Jasmine’s voice was low but stronger than it had been before.