by Desiree Holt
She finished her coffee, fixed another mug, and took out her cell. She’d put it on silent at the doctor’s office and forgotten to turn it on. Plus, she’d been so distracted she hadn’t even noticed it vibrated. There were a dozen messages from Ivy, the last one saying,
Call me right now. At once. I’m going nuts.
Sighing, she punched in the speed dial.
“It’s about time. Damn, I’ve been going crazy here. What did the doctor say?”
Methodically, doing her best to remember everything Dr. Moline had said, she gave Ivy the bad news. Although she wanted to say, He’s alive and has the use of his leg. Isn’t that the best news out of all this?
“He has to be destroyed.” Ivy sounded so sad. So distressed. “Without football, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
Erin was finally losing patience with this whole “football is my entire life” thing. “Damn it. He still has his whole life ahead of him, he can still walk on two feet, he has a brain if he’d ever get around to using it, and more money than he knows what to do with. Pardon my language but what’s the big fucking deal?”
She waited for Ivy to answer her. When her friend said nothing, she prodded, “Ivy?”
A heavy sigh swooshed over the connection. “Jake should tell you this himself. Let’s give him until tomorrow. If he hasn’t opened up by then, I’ll open up the family skeleton closet for you. But let’s wait, okay?”
“I don’t know what on earth is so terrible but okay. But if tomorrow comes and no info, you’ll owe me an explanation.”
“Call me later and let me know how he is, will you?”
“Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?”
“Because he won’t want me to see him like this. Jake has always been very good about locking his feelings away. He’ll just shut me out.”
Locking his feelings away? Was that why he always had a certain reluctance to express himself except when they were having wild sex?
“All right. I have to figure out how we go forward from here.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Ivy’s voice was laced with panic. “He needs you now more than ever.”
“Let’s get through tonight and maybe tomorrow,” Erin suggested. “He’ll have settled down enough so you can come over.”
“Good idea. Call me first thing in the morning. No, call me later or even text me, just to let me know how he’s doing.”
“I will.”
Erin disconnected the call, rinsed her mug, and put it in the dishwasher. She was suddenly so tired, the lack of sleep catching up with her. Jake was still barricaded in his bedroom, so she headed for her own room, intending to lie down for just a moment. But she was so tired from last night and exhausted from today’s tension that without realizing it she dozed off.
She came awake with a start, sensing something was wrong but not sure what. She glanced at the little clock beside her bed and nearly screeched. Four o’clock. How could she have slept so long? Her intercom hadn’t yelled at her, so maybe Jake was asleep, too. Or lying on his bed in a comatose state. Or—
She pushed herself to her feet and hurried down the hall to his room. The door was still closed. She opened it gently and stuck her head into the room.
“Jake? Are you—?”
She nearly passed out. Jake was not on the bed. Nor was he any place else. She searched the bathroom, the patio, every room in the house. She worried he’d fallen down and hurt himself, but by the time she finished her search she’d almost have been grateful for an unconscious body. Having looked everywhere else, she opened the door to the garage and nearly had another heart attack. The SUV was gone. She still had the keys she’d used, but obviously Jake had more than one set. If she was grateful for anything, it was that his left leg was the one injured. At least he’d be able to drive.
Where could he have gone? Crap, crap, crap.
Dreading what she was about to do, she pulled out her phone again and speed-dialed Ivy.
“You’d better come over here,” she said as soon as there was an answer.
“Why? What’s wrong? I have to finish this project, but I can be there in a couple hours.”
“No. Now. Come right now.”
“What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”
After taking a deep breath and blowing it out, she said, “I dozed off. I guess I was more tired than I thought. Jake’s gone.”
Chapter 15
While she waited for Ivy, Erin called Scott. She just hoped he wasn’t tied up in something he couldn’t break away from.
He answered on the second ring. “What’s up, Erin? How’s it going? Any better?”
“Not really. Um, I’m not sure how to tell you this but Jake’s gone.”
“Gone?” She could hear the stunned surprise in his voice. “Where could he go? He isn’t in great shape and he hasn’t driven for three months.”
“I know, I know, I know.” She raked her hands through her hair. “It’s my fault.”
But when she told him what happened, he said, “Not your fault at all. People have to sleep, and frankly, this morning, you looked exhausted. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“But he’s not really capable of getting around.”
“One thing I’ve learned about Jake is if he wants to do something, he’ll find a way to do it. Listen, fix yourself a drink so you don’t fall apart. I’m on my way.”
A drink was the last thing she wanted but probably the first thing she needed. Her hands were shaking so much it took her three attempts to shove her phone back in her pocket. When she’d seen Jake’s empty bedroom and discovered the SUV missing, two things had slammed into her brain: She was terrified he’d end up in an accident, and she’d never get to tell him she loved him. Scott had certainly seen it. She’d been so busy protecting her heart that she’d actually lost it when she wasn’t looking. So did that mean he was right that Jake had fallen in love with her, too?
Now she wished she’d had the courage to tell him how she felt, even if he wasn’t ready to hear it yet. So where did they go from here? Right now, she just knew she wanted to find him safe and sound and bring him home.
She had no idea where Jake kept his liquor. In the three months she’d been here they’d only had wine or beer. She tried all the cupboards in the kitchen and the big credenza in the great room without finding anything. Finally she decided to look in the den.
Other than when she’d ushered Lynne Corday and Joe Reilly in to their meetings with Jake and took care of the refreshments, she hadn’t set foot in this room. Jake always closed the door when he left it. It was a typical male inner sanctum. Bookshelves lined the walls, some of them holding awards and trophies going all the way back to high school. A massive polished oak desk faced a bay window that gave a great view of the yard, the extension holding a computer and printer. Two framed pictures sat on the desk. One was the championship Granite Falls football team holding the state trophy. The other was of Jake and Ivy and a woman she realized must be their mother. Erin picked it up and studied it. The resemblance between her and Ivy was very clear.
But where was his father? Why were there no pictures of him? Jake never mentioned him. Ever. Had he died a long time ago? But then wouldn’t there be at least one picture of him?
After setting the picture back on the desk, she continued her search for alcohol. A cabinet mounted on the wall beside the desk looked promising. It opened smoothly at her touch, and she gave thanks Jake wasn’t one of those people who kept his liquor locked up. Of course when you never had company, you didn’t have to worry about hiding anything.
Bingo! A small array of bottles containing gin, scotch, and bourbon. She grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s Black and was about to close the cupboard up again when she noticed a manila folder. It was shoved between the bottles and the wood, almost as if it had been stuck there and forgotten. Curiosity getting the better of her, she pulled it out, set the bottle of liquor
down on the desk, and flipped the folder open.
And caught her breath.
There were three pictures in there, of a woman and two children that appeared to have been taken a long time ago. She recognized a younger version of Jake’s mother, which meant the children were Jake and Ivy. What shocked her was their condition. All three of them were covered with bruises and Ivy’s left arm was in a cast. From the expression on their faces, they looked as if they had been through hell. She also realized these were not the usual type of photos but ones that had been taken for a specific purpose.
What the hell?
Who had done this to them and how long ago had it happened? Was this why Jake never talked about his past?
Suddenly consumed by guilt for prying into Jake’s private life, even accidentally, she closed the folder, replaced it, and carried the bourbon into the kitchen. Now she really needed a drink. After taking down a glass, she filled it with ice and poured the liquor to the halfway mark. Without hesitating, she lifted the glass and took a healthy swallow. She coughed a little and her eyes watered, but as the alcohol coursed through her bloodstream, it steadied her and took the edge off her nerves.
Too nervous to sit still, she carried the glass with her as she went to the foyer to wait for Ivy and Scott. As she sipped it more slowly, she tried to think where Jake might have gone. To a bar? To Lisa and Lucy or a replica of them? She still had his cell phone with all his contacts, but she had no intention of calling everyone in there and alerting them that there was a problem. When Scott arrived, he could pick out the ones to reach out to and maybe do it himself. Yes, it would be a lot better coming from him.
Just as she took another sip of her drink, Scott buzzed her from the gate, and she pressed the button to open it. Ivy had the codes so she’d let herself in when she arrived. She had the door open and was waiting for him when he pulled up in front of the house, leaped out of the car, and jogged into the foyer.
“I have a feeling a lot of this is my fault,” she said at once. “If Jake thought he could talk to me, tell me what he was feeling, maybe he wouldn’t have taken off on his own. I probably should have anticipated something like this.”
“I think you’re heaping too much blame on yourself. If anyone should have expected this, it should have been me. Let’s stop beating ourselves up, sit down, and figure out what’s what here.”
She dumped the rest of her drink and fixed two mugs of coffee for them. They had just seated themselves at the kitchen table when the front door opened and Ivy rushed in.
“Did you hear anything yet?” she asked Erin. “Did he even call you? What happened?”
“Easy, easy.” Scott rose from his chair, gave her a friendly hug, then eased her down next to Erin. “Let’s take this one thing at a time. Erin? How about telling us again what happened.”
“We need to start looking for him,” she insisted, a slightly hysterical edge to her voice. “Right now.”
“We will,” Scott promised her, “but first we need to know what happened here.”
Ivy accepted the coffee Erin handed her and took a sip from it. “Thanks. I needed this. Erin, what’s the deal?”
She told them everything she could, from the time she and Jake arrived home to the moment she woke up and found him gone.
“I left him alone in his room,” she told them, “because I knew he didn’t want anyone around just yet. He didn’t say anything, but it was obvious he was distraught over the news from Dr. Moline.” She looked at Scott. “You were there. What do you think?”
“I agree he was upset. Jake doesn’t rant and rave, he just gets deathly quiet, but it was obvious from the look on his face and the fact he didn’t speak to either of us. Okay, so we’re going to assume he’s out trying to blunt the shock with either alcohol or—” He paused and looked at Erin.
“It’s okay,” she told him. “Go ahead and say it. He could be with another woman.” She shrugged. “Maybe even many women, right now the important thing is finding him and getting him home and through all this.”
Ivy nodded. “We can kick his ass later.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse. “I don’t think he’d go out and get drunk. That’s not how he rolls. But we can’t overlook anything. Jake isn’t a big one for bar hopping, like I said, but he has a few he likes to go to when the urge hits him. I dictated what I remember into my phone on the way over here.”
“Would he go there this early? It’s barely five o’clock.”
“No. Maybe.” Ivy threw up her hands. “Of course not, but we have to start somewhere. He hasn’t reached out to anyone else while he’s been going through this, so I have no idea what he’s liable to do.” She looked from one to the other. “Scott, I’m sure you’re aware he hasn’t really formed any close friendships with his teammates. He’s certainly withdrawn from all of them while he’s been going through this.”
“You’re right,” Scott agreed. “He’s very social and sociable, but inside I think he’s pretty much isolated himself. I always thought that was why he never formed a relationship with a woman.”
“Out of the public eye he’s very private,” Ivy agreed. “Even when he goes to parties he circulates, chats, and then leaves. But maybe today he thought alcohol would be the answer.”
“Let’s have the names of the places,” Scott told her. “We can get the numbers and split up the calls.”
There were ten places on Ivy’s list, and they called all of them but with zero results.
“I knew this would be a bust,” Ivy said, “but at least we tried.”
“Now what?” Erin asked. She drummed her fingers on the table, but when she realized what she was doing, she clutched her hands together to stop herself.
“I’m going to call a couple of the guys on the team I know well enough. Most of them are also my clients.”
“I just don’t want to start the rumor mill,” Ivy told him. “Even if Jake can’t play again, we still want to protect his name as much as possible.”
“I don’t care about that,” Erin blurted. “I just want to find him and bring him home safe.”
Scott put one of his large hands over both of hers. “I agree. But let’s do it sensibly.”
It was hard for her, though, to sit quietly while Scott made his calls, his tone of voice casual, the conversation almost offhand. But in the end he still had nothing.
“Maybe he is with one of his Eye Candy Mandys,” Erin said bitterly, even as she realized she knew better.
“That’s never been his style,” Scott answered. “I’d think you’d know that by now.”
“People do weird things when they get dealt a life-changing blow like this.”
“Scott’s right,” Ivy protested. “Anyway, I wouldn’t know where to start to find out, if that’s what he’s done.”
“What about one of his former lady friends,” Scott interjected. “If you can give me their names, I can get their numbers.”
Ivy sighed. “You’d be surprised at how few of those there have been, none of them what you’d call really serious.”
Erin nibbled on a fingernail. She wanted so badly to believe Ivy, but she had such a painful history that stood in her way. She’d often wondered, since what she called the Trace disaster, if a man could be satisfied with just her. If he could be faithful, or maybe her flaw was just picking the wrong men. Or man.
“You mean his first reaction wouldn’t be to find some female to hook up with? Or go somewhere to get drunk? I thought that’s what football players did.”
“As much as you’ve been around Jake these past couple of months, are you saying you haven’t gotten a different picture, at least of him?” Ivy frowned at her. “I haven’t said much about this, but I’d really like to know why you have such a low opinion of football players. Especially Jake, who in no way fits the image you’ve got.”
“Me, too,” Scott put in. “We need to get past this so we can concentrate on Jake.”
Erin sighed, picked up her mug, and took a sip of her coffee. At the moment, she wished they hadn’t ditched the bourbon. Then she looked from one to the other.
“You know—or know of—Trace McKay, right?”
Scott frowned. “Not one of mine, that’s for sure. How do you know Trace?”
God, this was so painful. “Seven years ago when I was working at a resort and spa in Houston I met Trace. A friend introduced us. I usually didn’t give the teams the time of day. Mostly their behavior turned me off. They were loud, arrogant, and obnoxious.”
“Welcome to my world,” Scott muttered. “Or at least part of it.”
“I guess my hormones overrode my common sense. How trite is it to say he swept me off my feet?”
“Excuse me,” Scott interrupted, “but I wouldn’t think he’s quite your style.”
Erin snorted. “I should have had you advising me then. But what did I know? I was young, impressionable, and excited that a big star like Trace even wanted to date me.” She raked a hand through her hair. “We were hot and heavy for most of the season. It was hard carving time out, what with his playing schedule and my work schedule. We worked it out, though. I managed a lot of Sundays off so I could see him play and then we’d have until Tuesday together.”
“Building a relationship during the season is difficult,” Scott agreed.
“Anyway, moving right along. We agreed to be exclusive, and he gave me every indication that after the season we’d be taking a big step. I assumed he was going to ask me to marry him, idiot that I was.”
“So what happened?” Ivy wanted to know.
“I wasn’t able to get to Dallas for the game they were playing that weekend, but I figured I’d get there that night and surprise him. It was the middle of the evening before I got to the hotel and checked in. By that time the team was back at the hotel and celebrating their win.”
Ivy frowned. “I think I’m not liking where this is going.”
“I was standing at the front desk finishing my registration, just in time to see Trace walk out of the hotel bar with two very busty, scantily clad blondes, one under each arm. Before I could move or even say anything, the reservations clerk helping me laughed. ‘There he goes again,’ she said. ‘We call him Trace Twofer.’”