Hide and Seek

by Lynette Eason

  His jaw never softened. “Maybe we would have been better off if they had. Given us up, I mean.”

  “I refuse to dwell on it. The past is the past.”

  He stared at her, suspicious and curious. “This seems awfully sudden.”

  Erica picked at the blanket. “They were crazy about Molly. You saw that yourself. At Christmas they overspent. They treated her like they never treated us. I don’t understand it, but maybe it’s because they’re finally grown up and want to make amends.”

  “You do what you want. I don’t want them back in my life.”

  “Let go of the anger, Brandon. It won’t do you any good.”

  He grunted. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee.” He strode out the door without looking back.

  End of discussion.

  Erica shook her head then looked at Max. “I need to call Denise and tell her I’m not going to be able to meet her at five thirty.”

  “Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What was all that about letting the past be the past?”

  She sighed and leaned her head back against the pillow. “I’m just tired of being angry with them. Sometimes you just have to let things go.”

  Max nodded, a pensive look on his face. “Yeah, I guess sometimes you do.”

  “What is it?”

  He shrugged. “At least she cares.”

  Erica stared at him. Her mother would win Mother of the Year award compared to his. “She does, and it’s time for Brandon and me—and Peter—to understand and forgive.” If Peter wasn’t the one trying to kill her. Pain shot through her at the thought, but almost instantly, she realized she didn’t believe it. “I want to talk to Peter.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t believe he would try to hurt me.”

  “I know that, too.” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “You’re an amazing woman.”

  Erica placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Then she smiled at him. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

  Max cleared his throat and stepped toward the door. “I’d better let you get some rest.”

  “I’m not sleepy.” She yawned and he laughed.

  “Right. I won’t be gone long.”

  Erica nodded and closed her eyes. Maybe she would just rest her eyes for a bit.

  Just a short nap while she felt safe and the person who wanted her dead couldn’t get to her.

  *

  Max watched Erica sleep, his emotions in turmoil. Someone had tried to kill her. Just like someone had killed Tracy. His heart shuddered at the memory, and his fingers curled into fists.

  But the person after Erica wasn’t someone she’d worked with at the homeless shelter.

  This was worse.

  This was someone she knew.

  But who?

  He didn’t know her well enough to mentally make a list of people close to her who would know about her allergy.

  But he thought it odd her mother would decide to pay her a visit. It was such an out-of-the-blue thing. And yet, maybe not. After all, the woman worked at the hospital and she really did care about her children.

  And then there was Peter.

  A light rap on the door caught his attention. He rose to open it and found Denise Tanner. She frowned, as if surprised to find him in Erica’s room. “I got your message. Is Erica okay?”

  “She’s all right, but she’s sleeping right now.” Max stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

  Denise twisted her fingers together. “My dad’s taken a turn for the worse, but I wanted to run up and check on Erica.”

  “It could have been a lot worse. But she’ll make a full recovery.”

  Denise placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  “I’ll tell her you came by. And I’m sorry about your father, Denise.”

  She nodded. “Thanks. I’m going back down to be with him, but please call me if you need anything.”

  Max thanked her and she left.

  He went back to Erica. He’d stay with her until Rachel arrived to spend the night. After the doctor had filed her report with the police, and Max had spoken with Chris, an officer was posted at Erica’s door. She would have protection tonight.

  Her auburn curls lay spread around her, looking like they could set the pillow on fire at any moment. Long, pale lashes lay against her cheeks. She looked peaceful. Untroubled.

  He ran a finger down her arm. Please keep her safe, Lord. My heart’s in too deep. If something happens to her, I don’t think I’ll recover.

  Max vowed to stick as close to her as possible and catch the person responsible for the chaos that had become their lives.

  No matter who it was.

  *

  The next morning Max beat Brandon to the hospital and into Erica’s room by mere seconds. He flashed his ID to the officer standing outside her room, glad to see he was still on duty. As he knocked and pushed open the door, Brandon rounded the corner.

  He held the door for the man then stepped in at Erica’s welcome. She sat on the bed looking much better than the night before. In fact, she looked great. Alive. Whole. Healthy.

  Beautiful.

  He wanted to grab her into his arms and never let her go.

  She looked up and gave him a wan smile as he stepped in. Rachel sat in the chair frowning. “I’m trying to talk Erica into going home,” Rachel said. “But she wants to work her shift at the homeless shelter.”

  Max felt his heart hit his toes. Holding on to Erica might not be an option. Not if she insisted on continuing her work with the homeless.

  Maybe that was selfish, but how could he forget the past and move on? Tracy had gone to work at the shelter that evening, just like she did every Thursday night. Max had been working and when she didn’t call to let him know she was home, he’d wondered, but had been knee-deep in a drunk driving accident and hadn’t had time to call her until two hours later.

  She hadn’t answered. Chris Jiles had been called to the scene of her murder then had been the one to break the news to Max.

  The investigation had found that Tracy’s murderer had followed her from the shelter. He was one of the regulars. He’d also been in need of a fix. At the trial, he’d wept. He hadn’t meant to kill her, but she’d fought him when he’d tried to rob her. He’d pushed her down and she’d cracked her head on the sidewalk. She’d died from a broken neck.

  Every time Erica walked out the door, he’d wonder if she’d be back. He couldn’t live like that. And it wasn’t that he still thought every person at the shelter was a criminal or a murderer. It was just his memories of Tracy and how she didn’t make it home, memories that still haunted him. It seemed the closer he got to Erica, the more he thought about what had happened to Tracy, and how he was sure he could never go through something like that again.

  He tried to hide his reaction to Rachel’s announcement. “Why don’t you get some rest first? If you collapse at the shelter you won’t be doing anyone any good.” He paused. “And besides, who’s to say your attacker doesn’t know your schedule? He could be waiting at the shelter.”

  “Or he could be down in the lobby waiting for me to walk out the front door. I have no doubt he knows I’m here.”

  “You have an officer on this room,” Max argued, feeling his protective instincts kicking in. “When you leave here, you won’t have police protection.”

  She bit her lip and her forehead creased. Her cousin nodded. “He’s right, Erica. You need to stay safe and stay away from the shelter until you find out who’s behind all this.”

  This time Erica scowled. “You don’t like me working there, either.”

  Rachel sighed and shrugged. “Just think about it.”

  “I have.” She rubbed her face and looked at Rachel. “Will you call and tell them I’m not coming?”

  “Sure.” Rachel pulled her cell phone from her pocket and excused herself from the room.

  Max couldn’
t deny the rush of relief he felt at her sensible response. But what about the next time? What about after her attacker was caught and she didn’t have to worry so much about her safety?

  Brandon spoke for the first time since entering the room. “I think not going to the shelter is a wise decision. You need to go home and rest, Erica.”

  “But there’s so much to do. Lydia’s still missing. And Peter. And Molly.” Tears welled in her eyes and Max had to hold himself back from taking her in his arms right there. Instead, he reached for her hand.

  Squeezing her fingers, he said, “The cops are looking for Peter. They’ll find him. And we’ll find Lydia. I’ve got calls in all over the place and friends are looking for her. She can’t stay hidden forever.”

  “It feels like she can,” Erica said.

  From the door, Rachel said, “I forgot.”

  Erica looked at her. “Forgot what?”

  “Peter called, looking for you yesterday. I told him you were heading for the mall. That’s how he knew how to find you.”

  “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “No. And I didn’t ask.” She cast her eyes toward the floor then back up. “I figured he just wanted money.”

  Erica swallowed hard, and Max wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her. But since he couldn’t do that, he did the one thing he could.

  “Come on and I’ll take you home.”

  Brandon lifted a brow. “Well, since I’m not needed as a taxi, I’ll check all of Peter’s known drug connections.”

  “And you’ll let me know as soon as you know something?” Erica asked.

  “Of course.”

  She sighed. “Then all right. I’ll go home.”

  Max saw her frustration, felt her impatience. After Brandon left, he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his once again. “Everyone is fighting hard to make sure you stay safe.”

  Her eyes softened and she nodded. “I know and I appreciate it.”

  He leaned in and placed his forehead against hers. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Erica met his gaze then shifted so she could give him a light kiss. Max raised a hand to cup her chin and deepened the kiss, needing to tell Erica how he felt about her without words. Then he pulled back and gathered her close.

  He relished the moment with her in his arms. But he couldn’t help but wonder how long she would stay home before thoughts of Molly sent her searching once again—and right into the arms of danger.

  FIFTEEN

  Erica woke in her own bed with a start. Heart pounding, she listened. Footsteps, the hardwood creaking, a drawer closing. Anger surged.

  Peter.

  How had he gotten past the officer sitting outside watching her house? Max had dropped her off so he could continue searching for Lydia. And Peter.

  Only it looked like Peter had come to find her before Max could find him.

  Erica snagged her weapon from her bedside table and shoved it in the back of her sweatpants. She had no intention of shooting her brother, but if he was high, there was no telling what kind of trouble he’d be.

  Maybe the gun would be enough to scare him.

  On silent, bare feet, she padded down the hall toward the noise, ignoring the slight dizziness and residual weakness she felt.

  At the entrance to the den, she paused. Listened.

  And heard voices.

  Her rushing adrenaline slowed, but her pulse skittered as she recognized the first voice. Max.

  Then Brandon and Jordan.

  Erica leaned against the wall and closed her eyes as her blood pressure returned to normal.

  It wasn’t Peter.

  She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her curls. Then did it again and again until she felt presentable. Max didn’t need to see her with the rat’s-nest, just-rolled-out-of-bed look. Then she felt heat invade her cheeks and wondered why she cared.

  But she knew exactly why. There was no denying it.

  In spite of their conflicting interests in finding his sister and his issues with the homeless shelter, she had feelings for Max Powell. And she wanted to look nice. She turned and walked back down the hall to her room where she changed into a pair of denim capris and a green shirt she knew brought out the color of her eyes.

  With one final look in the mirror and an eye roll at her vanity, she headed back to the den.

  Max sat on one end of the couch and Jordan on the other. Brandon sat in the recliner. He looked up when she walked in. “You decided to join us?”

  “Didn’t know there was anyone to join.”

  “You were snoring pretty good in there,” Brandon teased.

  She resisted the urge to revert to her childhood habit of sticking her tongue out and simply rolled her eyes at him. “What’s with the good-morning welcoming committee?”

  “Wanted to make sure you were safe,” Jordan said.

  “So all three of you had to come over?” She crossed her arms. “What gives?”

  Max quirked a smile at her. “We got a lead on Lydia.”

  Erica dropped her arms. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go get her.”

  “Bea called and said Lydia got in touch with her and is going to come by her house,” Max said.

  “When?”

  “In a couple of hours.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “We just finished setting that up,” Jordan said and stood. “I’m going to Bea’s house. I’ll let you know when I have Lydia.”

  Jordan walked right out of the room without another word as Erica gaped. “Wait a minute. What’s going on?” She looked at Max. “Aren’t we going?”

  He shook his head. “You and I are being watched. Brandon, Jordan and I discussed this and we think it’s best if the two of them grab her. I don’t want to take a chance on leading anyone to Bea’s house.”

  “And you don’t think someone will follow Jordan?”

  Brandon stood. “That’s where I come in. I’m going to make sure he’s not followed.”

  Erica swallowed. “And you’ll call the minute you have her?”

  “Of course.”

  She nodded. “All right. I don’t like it, but I have to admit it might work. She won’t be looking for you guys.”

  “Exactly.” Brandon leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Take care.”

  “You be careful. You’re still healing from one gunshot wound—you don’t need another.”

  He grinned at her and flexed his arm. “Good as new.” But she caught the slight grimace before he turned his back.

  “I mean it, Brandon.”

  “I know you do.” He looked at Max. “Keep her safe.”

  Max nodded and Brandon left.

  Erica slumped onto the couch next to Max. “I hate this waiting. It reminds me so much of the first few weeks after Molly disappeared.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and leaned in to place a kiss on the top of her head. “I know. But hopefully this time it’s going to pay off.”

  “I miss her so much,” she whispered. “Even after three years, I miss her with an ache that feels like it’ll never heal.”

  Max pulled her close so that she could rest her cheek against his chest. He smelled good. Woodsy and spicy all at the same time. She appreciated his attempt to comfort her. She looked up to find him gazing at her. Their noses touched and she drew in a deep breath. Then his lips were on hers. She reveled in the softness, the comfort he was trying to express. When he lifted his head, she wanted to pull him back. Instead she sighed and snuggled against him.

  His hand stroked her hair and they sat in silence for several minutes. Then he said, “I noticed your Bible on the end table by the recliner.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Is that how you’ve stayed strong through everything?”

  “Yes.” She picked at a piece of nonexistent lint on his shirt. “I don’t understand why God allowed Molly to be kidnapped. At first I thought maybe it was be
cause I wasn’t a good enough mother, that I was doing something wrong and that He was punishing me by taking her away from me.”

  His arms tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  “I kept reading the Bible, trying to find out how I could make things right. How I could make God love me again so that He would send Molly back to me.” She felt a tear slide across her nose. She sniffed.

  “What did you find?”

  “I found that God didn’t take Molly away because I’d done something wrong or been a bad mother.” She raked a hand through her hair. “And I learned that if God loved me enough to send His son to the cross before I was even born, then He loved me unconditionally.”

  “How long did it take you to discover that?”

  “It took about a year for me to believe it. Especially after Andrew walked out.”

  “What finally convinced you?”

  She smiled against his chest then pulled back to look into his eyes. “One of the most well-known verses in the Bible. John 3:16.”

  “‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son…’”

  “‘…that whoever believes in Him will never die, but have everlasting life,’” she finished. “It hit me that He died for me before I was even born. For me. Molly’s disappearance didn’t take God by surprise. Could He have stopped it? Yes. But He didn’t and I have to admit, that hurts. I don’t always understand his ways, but I choose to believe Him when He says He has a plan for everyone. And that includes Molly.”

  “What if she’s…”

  “Dead?”

  “Yeah.”

  Erica heaved a sigh. “I know it’s possible. It’s possible she died the day she disappeared.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’m not out of touch with reality. I know the statistics when it comes to missing children. So…if she’s dead, then I’ll have to figure out how to move on. Somehow, I’ll have to let God be my strength, because I’m not strong enough to do it on my own.” The last sentence was a mere whisper. She wasn’t even sure she’d said it aloud.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said, “I want to be here for you, too, Erica.”

  Longing gripped her. “I want that, too, Max.” She leaned back from his embrace, immediately missing his warmth. “But let’s see what happens with Lydia before we go any further.”