The man who still stalked her would probably be surprised to learn his victim now pitied him more than hated him. God had been good to her in that respect. What hatred had festered, God had lanced early. Sara now simply longed for him to be caught, for justice to be done, for her nightmare to be over.
There would be a final H. Q. Victor book someday. Her book. Kim’s book. That book would be a final sign that she was truly free.
It was too complex to even approach the topic. She said nothing as Adam directed her from the den, his hand warm on the back of her sweater.
There were three bedrooms and two baths in the condo; the master bedroom was large and spacious; the guest rooms looked as if they had not been disturbed since his housekeeper had last dusted.
Back in the kitchen, the short tour completed, Adam reached for coffee mugs he had set out. “There is cream in the refrigerator and sugar in the bowl on the counter.” He poured her a cup.
“Thanks.” Sara accepted the drink, glad to have something in her hands.
His refrigerator was covered with snapshots of the lake, his family, men who were obviously teammates, even baby pictures. “That’s an impressive collection,” she commented as she stirred a small amount of cream into her coffee.
“I keep in touch with most of the guys I ever played football with and their families. Anyone who has a kid knows to send me a picture.”
The man had a sentimental streak. Not many men she had met did.
“The living room?”
“Sure.”
Dave had silently slipped away, Sara realized. She was grateful for that.
Rather than sit when they entered the living room, Sara wandered around the room, looking at photos.
“That one is my dad.”
Adam was beside her.
There was a wealth of sadness in his voice. Sara looked up in surprise. Adam’s attention was in the past.
He shook off the memories. “He died ten months ago.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“So am I. He was my best friend.”
She absorbed that comment, knowing how that pain must feel. She moved on down the wall of pictures, asking about them.
It was obvious his family was special to him, especially his sister’s three children. He talked about what they were doing for the summer, what they each liked to do for hobbies. Sara wasn’t surprised to find out he often spent Saturday afternoons playing ball with them.
When they were both on their second cup of coffee, Sara finally found a seat. She chose a comfortable chair across from the couch. Adam settled down on the couch.
“It took about an hour for me to figure out you and Dave had arranged today’s riding date well in advance,” Sara commented.
King Henry was at her side, his head resting on her knee, gazing up at her with adorable eyes as she stroked his head.
Adam smiled. “When you know going straight ahead means meeting a blocker, that leaves doing an end run. Dave knew you would eventually make the suggestion, although you certainly kept me waiting long enough.”
“You could have told me what you had in mind.”
“You would have said no.”
Sara had to concede Adam was right.
“Don’t start thinking about security for the next time we meet,” Adam warned. “Tonight is coffee, a video, and cheesecake for dessert. Tomorrow can take care of itself.”
“It’s habit.”
“Why don’t you decide on a video while I cut the dessert? That is, if Henry will let you move an inch or two. He’s in love.”
“So am I,” Sara replied with a laugh. She got up to review the tapes in his entertainment center.
Adam returned with two plates balanced in one hand, a refill for her coffee in the other. “So what movie have you selected for us to watch?”
She held up a videotape.
“Sara, please select something else.” He set down the dessert plates.
“Nope. My choice. This is what I want to watch first.” It was a tape labeled Adam’s Thirty-Fifth Birthday Party. She was amused at his discomfort.
“My dad was taping the entire thing and adding commentary as he went along.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. You don’t need this kind of reminder of what you’ve lost.”
Adam’s hand covered hers. “It’s okay. It will probably be good in fact. Put it in.”
She bit her bottom lip.
“I’ll stop it if I decide it’s too much,” Adam told her firmly. Sara reluctantly did as he requested.
They shared the couch.
The video had been filmed in his condo, a surprise birthday party with all his family and about thirty other guests present. The tape began with hurried calls to be quiet; the photographer caught Adam’s startled expression when he opened the door.
Adam narrated parts of the video while they ate their cheesecake, introducing people to her, most of whom had familiar names.
Sara was relieved that after a few tense minutes, Adam seemed to relax and truly enjoy the video.
Adam and children? Sara felt a growing sense of dread as she realized the number of interactions the tape had captured with Adam and his extended family. From the oldest to the youngest, the children all adored him. The affection was mutual. During the tour he had given her of his home, Sara had seen some of the children’s handmade birthday gifts still on display.
Adam had been holding a baby during the last clip of film, carrying the infant around as he would cradle a football, the only one at the party apparently able to stop the infant’s crying.
Sara felt cold. What have I let develop?
“What’s wrong?”
Adam’s hand dug into her forearm, keeping her steady, his other hand removing her coffee mug.
“I got dizzy for a second.” She forced a smile back on her face. “It’s already passing.”
“You’re white as a ghost.”
Because you would want—no need—children in your marriage. And I can’t have children. Can’t even consider adopting. The coffin lid on their relationship had just been nailed shut, and it made her physically sick. Lord, I should have known. He’s at that age. He’s a natural family man. And I never even considered it. What have I done?
“Let me call Dave.”
“No!” She took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute,” she pleaded, seeking a grip on his hand to stop his movement and also to still her own tremors. She scrambled to buy herself more time. “Tell me more about your father.”
She could see that Adam didn’t want to change the subject, but he did so at her insistence.
“He believed there was nothing impossible if you desired it enough to work for it. He loved helping people live up to their potential. He loved the outdoors and traveled all over the world, was into ecology concerns long before it became fashionable. He loved to have fun.”
Sara slowly loosened her grip on his hand. “It sounds like he was a wonderful man.”
“He was.”
His hand brushed back her hair. “Come on, Sara, trust me. What just happened?”
“A memory, with consequences that reach far into the future.”
She needed to say, “I can’t have children.” She needed to end this relationship before she hurt him. She couldn’t do it.
The entire subject tore at her, shredding her heart, her hope.… She rose and walked toward the windows. She rarely if ever let herself think about children…about all that had been sacrificed in her life.
She knew what it was like to grow up surrounded by security. She couldn’t do that to her own children. She couldn’t put them at risk either. Which left one choice: no children. She had faced that fact years before. It cut deep into who she longed to be, but she had no choice.
It was late—dusk—and the city lights dominated the skyline.
She couldn’t tell him.
Adam joined her, his arm encircling her waist. She was drawn back against his strength and held.
; He seemed to think her on the verge of breaking apart, for his hold was the gentlest yet firmest grip she had ever felt. His touch spoke of safety…comfort.
She struggled to wrestle back control from the memories. She couldn’t tell him all of it, but she had to tell him some of it. “Adam, I was not the only one snatched. They grabbed my twin sister Kim too. She died during the kidnapping.”
The past slammed into her mind…the terror as she realized Kim was no longer answering her. She had known her sister was dead, but for hours couldn’t accept it. She’d screamed at God for help, even as choking tears depleted her own remaining resources.
She had said it…told him the ugly truth…and it could not be unsaid. She waited for the tightening hold, the reaction.
Nothing.
Nothing but a catch in his breathing. His arm remained firm around her waist, and the hand stroking her arm continued its gentle caress.
And all she wanted to do was close her eyes and get lost in that sensation…to forget who she was, what she’d survived, and all that could never be.
Adam was afraid to move. Lord, keep me still. Don’t let me lose it. If I react wrong here, I’m going to lose her, and this door will never open again.
He finally took a breath. “It must feel awful to be the one who survived.”
A shudder rippled down her back.
He didn’t bother coaxing her to the couch, he simply led her there. He didn’t try to get her to raise her face or see her expression. He knew what was there—Kim—she had lost her sister. She had lost her twin sister. Nothing prepared someone to hear that. She opened a door for him into those nine days of captivity…and he wasn’t sure he wanted to step inside.
God, give us the strength to get through the next few minutes.
He held her, stroking her arm, waiting.
“We were back in the States with our mom for vacation, visiting friends,” Sara finally said quietly. “We were all at the park—Dave playing catch with a friend, Kim and I on the swings, our mom sitting on a bench reading. The van…it drove right between us and Mom, and two men dashed out. They grabbed us and they threw Dave to the ground when he tried to intervene.”
Adam wished she needed the tissues he had reached for, but Sara was still dry eyed despite the shudders that rippled under his hands on occasion. It scared him, her ability to detach facts from emotions, and she was doing it now.
“It was almost twenty-four hours before the chaos of being moved and taken from vehicle to vehicle was over. We were hooded, our hands bound. And then we were put into hell.”
Her grip tightened around his hand so hard he winced. “I learned much later after we were found that it was a root cellar, sloped, but deep enough a man could stand, built behind a farm in the middle of nowhere. They sat us on opposite sides of the cellar, the ropes binding us so that we couldn’t reach each other. It was dark. Blinding dark all of the time.”
“Was there a ransom demand?”
“Not for the first four days. And then they demanded six million dollars apiece.”
“Twelve million dollars?”
She twisted one of the tissues he had given her around her fingers. “Dad was only willing to pay seven.” Her bewilderment was plain. “Negotiations began and then broke down and then began again.” She struggled to get the next words out. “Kim died on the evening of the eighth day from fear and thirst.”
Adam tightened his hold around her waist, knowing she was in trouble. He tried to get her past the painful memory.
“You were found on the ninth day?”
“Sunrise. I was lifted from the hole in time to see the most beautiful sunrise God had ever created. Brilliant orange, offsetting a turquoise blue that radiated across the full sky. Someone had noticed a pickup coming out to the deserted farmhouse. A local sheriff’s deputy decided it was worth checking out. They left evidence in the house. He saw the new padlock on the root cellar. A $2.49 shiny new padlock. That was what saved my life.”
“Sara.” He tried to stop her story, for the shock was rippling through his own system.
Her head rested against his chest. “My dad ended up paying seven million dollars and getting one daughter back. I don’t know which he hates me for the worst—being the wrong daughter to survive or losing the seven million dollars he paid out, for the money was never recovered.”
Adam closed his eyes. His chin rested against her hair and his hands stroked her back. No child should have to pay the price she had been forced to pay. She had been there when her sister died…. “I should never have put you into the position where you had to tell me this.”
Tears flowed from her eyes now, for he could feel them on his shirt. “Shhh.” He didn’t try to stop the tears as much as he did the pain.
“This is who I am. This is what I live with day after day. You can’t know me and not know.”
“They didn’t catch the kidnappers?”
“They caught one of the two, but he was the extra hand, not the brains behind the kidnapping. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole, but he has never given anything away about his partner.”
She looked up and Adam saw the pain in her eyes that went beyond anything he could comprehend.
“My father did not come back from Britain. He was informed of the kidnapping, and he spoke hourly with the FBI, but he never left his post in Britain, never returned to the States. When we were found, he came back but only to attend Kim’s funeral. He came by the hospital to see me for all of ten minutes.”
Adam framed her wet face with his hands. “I can’t explain his actions, Sara. I doubt anyone could. He must have been in shock.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t think Kim and I were his children. I overheard my parents arguing during the divorce discussions.”
Adam closed his eyes. Did anything in her past ever work out with justice? “I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I tried so hard to please him when I was young, but nothing ever seemed to be enough. He could tolerate Kim, but I was too much of a tomboy. The ironic thing is the DNA tests they did for the blood traces proved we were his children.”
Sara rubbed her red eyes, probably hating the fact she had cried. She closed her eyes as she sighed, trying to collect herself. “Kim is buried in the same cemetery as your father; that’s why I knew what inscription you had added to his tombstone. Mom’s family plot is there. Kim’s gravestone has an angel etched on the stone and a pair of ribbons and a little teddy bear.”
She was weary beyond words; Adam could see it in her posture, her cloudy eyes. The memories might be twenty-five years old, but they were still raw. “Thank you for trusting me, Sara. I know how hard it must be to talk about this.”
There was more. There was a lot more. He didn’t think he could handle hearing it at the moment. His own emotions were churning with rage that the man who had done this was still free.
“I think you chose the wrong time to get to know me, Adam.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The memories constantly intrude.”
Adam hugged her, understanding the dilemma. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle bad memories.” He kissed her gently on her wet cheek.
They sat together for another hour, talking quietly, silence stretching between them when needed, words said when they would help. He eased her into his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder.
Adam intentionally slowed their conversation as Sara grew drowsy. It had been a long day for her, and she had just spent a great deal of emotional energy. He waited until she was asleep before carefully shifting his arm and reaching for the phone on the end table.
“Dave, she’s spending the night. Go on home. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”
“Absolutely no way!”
“She told me about Kim. Go home, Dave,” Adam said quietly.
Sara was peacefully asleep in the guest room. Adam carried a cold soda back with him to the den, Henry trailing behind him. Sleep for Ad
am was a long way away.
Okay, God. What now?
His emotions were boiling, and he wished he had a football game to play, some way to wear off this anger. He wanted to throw something, feel the energy release. They had to catch this guy. It was that simple. A future with Sara depended on it.
Living with these memories was tearing her up inside; she was never able to get closure. It was a living wound in her heart.
Murderers didn’t walk free while victims lived in fear, not in Adam’s view of the world, not if there was anything he could do to change it.
God, I want this guy caught. I want him to pay a price for what he did. I want justice.
No, if he were honest, what he wanted was vengeance. He wanted the man dead. And he wanted it to happen slowly, painfully…to cause the monster as much agony as he had caused Sara and her family.
Adam drew a deep, shuddering breath. I want vengeance, Lord. I’ll have to settle for justice.
For Sara’s sake, he’d let justice be enough.
CHAPTER 8
Sara woke abruptly. Disoriented, her first instinct was to reach for the end table and the gun she kept in the drawer. There was no end table on the left side of the bed. Her adrenaline surged. She rolled in the other direction and was met by sunlight coming in a wide window with sheer drapes.
Sara blinked.
The bedroom was large, beautiful. The comforter over her was soft and peach colored. Four pillows surrounded her—big, soft, with rose-patterned pillowcases. She had instinctively created a shell for herself with them.
Where was she?
Talking with Adam was the last thing she remembered.
How in the world had Dave allowed this? Had there been words between him and Adam last night? She could imagine what that conversation must have been like.
She eased back the covers. In the wrinkled clothes of yesterday, she felt the strong need for a shower and a hairbrush. A look at the time showed it was almost quarter after ten.
Slipping from the bed, she listened quietly to see if she could hear anything from Adam.
She yawned as she opened the bedroom door. There was a bathroom across the hall, and she found fresh towels laid out, a wrapped toothbrush, and a mix of perfumed shampoo samples.
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