The corner of Sherry’s mouth tipped upward as she handed Sam the glass. “Thank you Charlie was a wonderful husband, but his passion was police work. I like to think he died happy, doing what he loved to do.”
“It must have been hard on you,” Sam said. “And Emily.”
Sherry returned to the refrigerator. Assorted vegetables were piled on the counter. “It was. But Emily kept me busy. If she hadn’t been so sick I might have had a spare minute to feel sorry for myself.”
“She was sick?”
“Acute lymphoblastic leukemia.”
Sherry had her back to her so Sam couldn’t see her expression. But she could hear the stark terror in every word. “That must have been awful.”
“It was.” Sherry took a knife to a head of lettuce, attacking it as if it were her child’s disease “The worst of it was the uncertainty. When Em needed a bone-marrow transplant I thought I was going to lose her.”
No matter what Sam might have lived through, she couldn’t imagine the helpless fear of losing a child. Or the grief of losing a husband. “I’m sorry.”
Sherry looked up from her cutting and gave her a brilliant smile “You know what they say. If it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger.” Her smile faded. “When Charlie died I knew I had to be strong for Em. I was all she had.”
“Well, she’s a beautiful girl. Is everything all right now?”
“She’s been in remission for about eighteen months” Sherry added onions and green pepper slices to the large bowl in front of her. “She’s a normal twelve-year-old now. Her goal in life is to make me crazy.”
Sam laughed. “I remember those years. I don’t know how you’ve handled all this on your own”
“I had to. I was one class short of finishing law school when Em got sick.” Sherry put the salad bowl in the refrigerator and set a pot on the stove. “I was able to finish when she went into remission. After I passed the bar, I lucked out and got a job working for the state.”
“How do you like it?”
“It’s been good for me. Good for Em. Miami had too many memories. I wanted to start fresh.” The can opener whirred as she opened cans and dumped them into the pot on the stove.
The front door banged open and Sam jumped.
“The troops are home,” Sherry said as Jake and Emily came into the kitchen. “Where’s Fletcher?”
Emily and Jake exchanged looks and Emily started giggling. “Fletcher got away from me.”
“He found a mud puddle,” Jake added, pointing to the muddy dog in the backyard. “He needs a bath.”
“Well, you’d better hurry up. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Jake inhaled, then winked at Sam. “What’s for dinner?”
“My famous chili.”
Emily groaned and clutched her stomach. “Can’t we order pizza?”
Sherry’s mock indignation made Sam laugh. She noticed Jake was having a hard time keeping a straight face, too. “Of course not. You will eat my chili and you will enjoy it.”
“Come on, squirt. Let’s wash the dog,” Jake said, slinging his arm around Emily’s shoulder.
“Make it quick,” Sherry said. “Jake?”
He glanced back, looking more relaxed than Sam had seen him in the past couple of days. “Yeah?”
“It’s good to have you here.”
Sherry’s words brought a bright flush to his cheeks. “It’s good to be here, Sher. Thanks.”
The door closed behind him and Sherry shook her head. “He’s a heartbreaker, that one.”
Sam didn’t say anything, but she agreed.
“The last time I saw Jake was at Charlie’s funeral He’s aged so much.”
Sam glanced out the window at Emily and Jake. They were chasing Fletcher around the yard, the big dog evading their attempts to catch him. “Why didn’t you see him?”
“About a month after Charlie’s death, I heard Jake had resigned,” Sherry said, stirring the chili. “I couldn’t believe it. That boy loved police work almost as much as Charlie did.”
Sam wiped droplets of water from her glass while she debated with herself She had no right to intrude into Jake’s life. No right at all. But somehow, in the space of a few short days, their lives had become intertwined. She cared about him. And his past was a part of him.
“He told me he lost his nerve,” Sam said softly.
Sherry’s smile turned into a sad, wistful look. “I don’t believe that. I think he couldn’t live with Charlie’s death. He blames himself.” Sherry nodded toward the window. “He’s got a lot of guilt on his shoulders. But it’s self-inflicted guilt. I know Jake. He wouldn’t have done anything to put Charlie or himself in unnecessary danger.”
Sam nodded. That fit with her image of Jake. “Did you tell him that?”
Sherry tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot before looking at Sam. “Many times. But he wouldn’t listen. Then Emily went in for the marrow transplant and I just didn’t have the energy to focus on Jake.” She walked to the porch door and opened it. “Hey, you two, dinner’s almost ready!”
Emily yelled, “Aw, Mo-om!”
“Five minutes,” Sherry said, in a voice that brooked no argument. Turning to Sam, she smiled. “I’d just as soon not talk about this in front of Emily. She looks tough, but she’s still pretty fragile.”
“Of course.”
“But ask Jake about it. He needs to talk to someone who cares about him. Someone besides me.” Sherry’s expression was pained. “And he needs to know that I don’t blame him.”
“I’ll try to talk to him sometime,” Sam promised, ignoring the dull ache of her heart. She wished Jake would trust her enough to talk to her.
Sherry gave her a brilliant smile, all traces of sadness gone from her face. “Thank you.”
“No,” Sam said. “Thank you for telling me.”
The back door banged open and Emily burst in, with a still-damp Fletcher right on her heels. Jake followed them, his wet shirt clinging to every muscle in his back. It took all Sam’s willpower to look away from him before he caught her staring.
Sherry winked at Sam as Jake turned around. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t tasted my cooking.”
Chapter 16
Something was going on between those two. Jake had sensed it from the moment he’d walked into the house. Sherry and Sam reminded him of his mom and Annie—sharing secrets and leaving the menfolk out of it.
“Let’s eat. Then we’ll talk,” Sherry said as he took a seat.
Fletcher sat at attention beside him, his expression making it clear he was hoping for the leftovers. “After your little stunt, I think you should be outside hunting up your own dinner,” Jake said brusquely.
Emily giggled and coaxed the dog over with a wave of a crouton. “He doesn’t look like much of a hunter.”
Dinner also served to remind Jake of his childhood. Emily kept things lively, regaling them with tales of seventh-grade woe. Jake had to smile. Oh, to be twelve again.
As Sam helped Emily clear the dishes, he turned to Sherry. “She’s something special, Sher.”
Sherry nodded, a wistful, faraway look in her eyes. “I know. I wish her father could see her now. I wish he knew how well she’s doing.”
Jake fought back his emotions for the second time that day. “Charlie knows.”
“Would you like to see my room, Sam?” Emily asked after the table had been cleared.
Sam glanced at Jake and he nodded solemnly. “Go ahead. If you don’t come back in an hour, we’ll send out a search-and-rescue team.”
In that way of preteens, Emily scorched him with a look. “Stop it, Uncle Jake!”
Sherry grinned. “Yeah, Jake, that’s jumping the gun a bit. Give ‘em at least two hours.”
“C’mon, Emily,” Sam said in mock indignation. “We don’t have to listen to this.”
Jake’s emotions careened in an unfamiliar way as Sam favored him with a soft smile before following Emily. He chalked it up to lack of sleep.
Sherry watched him with that knowing look of all mothers. He shrugged. “What?”
“I’m just wondering how much trouble you must be in to darken my doorstep after all this time.” He could tell she was only half kidding.
lake spread his hands over the tablecloth, feeling the smoothness of the pine table beneath it The smoothness came from hours of sanding. Charlie had made the table and chairs, each curve and spindle, every painstaking detail a result of his own two hands. Now all Charlie’s woodworking tools sat in Annie’s garage, unused. Jake didn’t have the heart to give them away.
Jake shook his head, the past settling around him like a tangible presence. Charlie should have been there to enjoy it. Charlie should never have died.
“I don’t know what to say, Sherry. You’re right, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t bad.”
“How bad, Jake?”
Her soft voice echoed from the past. She’d said the same words to him in the emergency room of the hospital. Charlie had been stretched out in the next room, beyond help Then, as now, Jake couldn’t sweeten the truth.
“Pretty bad.” He shook his head again, hating himself for dragging her into this. Whoever was chasing them had no compunction about killing innocent people. But like he’d told Sam, he didn’t know where else to turn.
“Are you in trouble?”
“It’s Sam, really I got caught up in her mess.”
Sherry’s expression remained neutral. “She seems like a nice enough person. How long have you known her?”
Jake let out a bark of laughter. “A couple of days.” When Sherry arched her brows in surprise, he added, “It’s been a really long couple of days.”
Sherry sighed. “Jake, honey, I’m not your mama and I’m not your wife. But are you sure you need to be getting yourself involved in Sam’s problems?”
Anger flared for a moment but quickly faded. This was Sherry. Outside of family, she knew him better than anyone except Charlie. Margo had never really known him and she’d never let him forget it, either. It didn’t surprise him just how few people he’d allowed into his life. What bothered him was why he wanted to add Sam to that short list.
“I’m in it as deep as she is now.”
He left it at that, but it wasn’t easy to rationalize his relationship with Sam even to himself. She had gotten to him in a way no one had before. This whole situation should have been strictly business. But where Sam was concerned, he had a hard time separating business from pleasure.
“That’s my Jake. Loyal to the last.” Sherry softened her voice. “Fine, sugar. You do what you have to do. And you know I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“I know you will.” Jake cleared his throat, unable to meet her eyes. “The thing is, Sher, I don’t know how safe you’ll be if we hang around here.”
“What do you mean?”
“People have already died because they got between us and who’s after us,” Jake told her, trying to give her the facts without scaring her. “I would never put you and Emily at risk, but you may be in danger just because we’re here.”
He should have said it differently. Tact had never been one of his strong suits.
Instead of flying off the handle, Sherry simply asked, “Should I send Em to stay with someone?”
Jake looked up then, not sure whether he should thank her or shake her. “And you accuse me of being loyal? You should probably run me out of town on a rail.”
Her smile reminded him of happier times. “You’ve done far too much for this family for me to run you off without hearing you out first.”
“It’s a pretty far-fetched story,” he warned.
“Save it for later, okay?” Sherry said as the sound of footsteps on the stairs signaled Sam and Emily’s return.
Sherry ushered him and Sam into the living room while Emily went off to the garage to gather her softball gear. “My friend and her daughter usually pick us up, but I’ll let Emily go on ahead so you can tell me what’s going on,” she said as soon as Emily was out of earshot.
“You don’t have to do that,” Sam protested.
“It’s all right. We go early to watch the game before ours,” Sherry said. Glancing at her watch, she added, “I’m yours until eight.”
Outside, a horn honked. Emily came tearing into the room, her hot-pink T-shirt emblazoned with the name Amazons. She carried a well-worn softball glove and a bat. “Kelly and her mom are here,” she said breathlessly.
“Honey, I need to talk to Jake and Sam for a bit,” Sherry told her. “You go on without me. I’ll catch up with you.”
Emily’s face clouded over and Jake felt like a jerk. Hadn’t he done enough to them already? He was on the verge of telling Sherry to go, when Emily smiled. “All right. But don’t be late for the game”
“I won’t,” Sherry promised.
At the sound of the horn again, Emily went to the door, slinging the bat and glove over her shoulder. She glanced back at them before closing the door. Her serious features reminded Jake so much of Charlie. “You’ll be here when I get back?”
Jake knew the words were for him, and his dose of guilt doubled. “Yeah, kiddo. I’ll be here.”
Emily nodded solemnly. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too.” The door closed and Sherry smiled at him. “She’s missed you.”
“I know,” Jake said gruffly, uncomfortable with the way Sam was looking at him. “I missed her, too.”
Sherry left the room to get coffee and Jake eyed Sam suspiciously. “What’s that look for?”
“What look?”
Jake didn’t have a chance to argue the point Sherry came back into the room carrying a tray of coffee mugs. “The two of you look like you could use this.”
Sam nodded. Sipping the steaming contents of her mug, she smiled wearily. “More than you realize.”
“Well, who’s going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve only got an hour.”
Jake exchanged looks with Sam. “Why don’t you explain how this started?”
Sam nodded and Jake could see her bracing herself. It wasn’t an easy story for her to tell. He offered her an encouraging smile. “I’ll pick it up from the time we met in the Everglades.”
Sherry’s eyes widened at that. “This sounds like it’s going to be a doozer of a story.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Jake said.
Jake watched Sherry’s expression shift from interest to amazement to horror With the exception of a few questions to clarify points they made, she listened to their story in silence.
When Jake finished explaining what had brought them to Tallahassee, Sherry sat back in her chair. With a strangled laugh she said, “I wish I hadn’t quit smoking. I could really use a cigarette right about now.”
“I wouldn’t have dumped this on your doorstep,” Jake said, feeling both guilty and relieved to be sharing their story with someone else. “But I didn’t know where else to turn.”
Sam leaned forward on the couch, her eyes on Sherry. “I don’t want to drag you into this, Sherry. If you can’t help us—or don’t want to—just say the word. We’ll figure something out.”
Jake’s admiration for Sam grew. He knew as well as she did that they were out of options, but she was still willing to let Sherry off the hook.
Sherry shook her head. “It’s a lot to digest at once. This is straight out of the movies.”
“Tell me about it.” Jake leaned back and sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of beard. He had a sudden thought. “Are you hooked up to the Internet?”
Sherry grinned. “Are you kidding? Between work and Emily, I’m wired to the limit.”
“What are you thinking, Jake?” Sam asked.
Jake headed for the office. “It’s been a while, but I think I can find out who Manning works for.”
Ten minutes later, the hum of Sherry’s computer was the only sound in the room. Despite his expired police credentials, Jake was able to hack into the national database o
f motor vehicle records.
“Read out Manning’s driver’s license number,” Jake told Sam, his fingers poised over the keys.
Sam read out the numbers. Fifteen minutes later, the database spat out five pages of information. “What did it give you?”
Jake scrolled through the documents. “Nothing too informative. But he was at Quantico. There’s a bunch of government gibberish, but I don’t see any mention of FBI or CIA.”
“Wait, what’s that?” Sherry asked, pointing to a notation toward the end of Manning’s file.
“‘BOCTA,’” Jake read “Never heard of it. How about you?”
Sherry shook her head.
“Could you cross-reference it?” Sam asked.
Jake nodded slowly. “Maybe. If I knew someone who could get me into the government’s records.” He looked at Sherry.
Sherry shook her head. “That’s illegal, you know.”
“I know.”
She sighed. “All right, move over.”
It took Sherry even less time to access the federal government files because she had clearance. “Here you go. BOCTA. Bureau of Organized Crime and Terrorist Activity.”
“Sounds like CIA to me,” Jake said, leaning over Sherry’s shoulder to read the brief bio. There wasn’t much to go on.
“Maybe it’s a branch of the CIA,” Sam said.
“Maybe.” Jake wondered just who was behind BOCTA and why it was such a secret. “Could you print that up for me, Sherry?”
“Sure thing.”
“How does this help us?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know, but at least we know who Manning works for.”
Sherry pulled the pages from the printer, her brow drawing into a thoughtful frown. “I might be able to help. I think I know someone you can talk to. Someone you could trust.”
“We’re grateful for anything you can do,” Sam said.
“Remember Joe Lafferty?”
Jake nodded. “We worked together on the Smithson case.” To Sam, he said, “Joe’s FBI. Not a close friend, but he was a good guy.”
“Still is,” Sherry said “A straight arrow.”
Sherry glanced at her watch. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll call Joe. He moved up here a few months ago to take over operations”
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