Breaking away from that kiss hurt Cara in a completely different way than anything had before. And yet, she knew it was the right thing to do.
She should have left the bed, spent the rest of the night on the couch, but she just wasn’t that strong.
Lying back down beside Simon, careful not to touch him in a way that would weaken their resolve, she laid her head on his chest, felt his arm settle on her and his hand curl against her side, and closed her eyes.
What had seemed like it was going to be an unending night had just become far too short.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE FIRST TIME Simon had shed tears in his adult life had been the night Opus died. The second time was the morning that he drove away from his cabin in Nevada with Cara lying in the back seat covered by his hanging clothes.
Her few possessions were in a bag in the back, beneath his underthings and toiletries.
Their time together was over. It had to end. He’d known all along, just as he knew that his patients, as much as he cared about each one of them, as much of his heart as he put into every single incision he made, would go on without him. Some wouldn’t even remember his name.
In spite of the tension gripping him, they made it into town and out to the highway with no problem at all. The old shopkeeper had been the only person in town Simon had ever exchanged words with, so his goodbyes were quick and he was out of there.
Ten miles down the deserted highway leading back toward California, he pulled over long enough for Cara to move up front with him and buckle in, and then he was moving as fast and as far as he could away from the godforsaken area where Shawn Amos had almost killed his wife.
Miles of endless desert sped by. Ten and then twenty. A sign indicated another twenty until the next town...a burg he remembered from his trip to the cabin. Two gas stations, a couple of small eateries and a few houses along the side of the road—a highway pit stop. Not a place he’d want to stop with Cara.
And then it hit him. They’d head to Vegas. Among the tourists there, they should have enough anonymity to be able to get a room and a tablet, and get on the internet...
“What’s next for you?” She’d been silent for miles and now, breaking into his thoughts, it was almost as though she was reading his mind.
He told her about Vegas. “We need enough time to find out what we can and then determine where you’ll be safest...”
She looked like she was about to argue. Instead, she said, “I mean after me...what’ll you do? Go back to the cabin?”
No way could he stand being there without her. “No,” he said. And told her about seeing the red dot.
Her excitement, the way she squealed, the full-bodied smile that broke across her face—the first one he’d seen on her—fueled his excitement all over again. “I need to get back to my eye doctor. See where we’re at. If the prognosis has changed any.”
And come up with Plan B if he could no longer be a surgeon. Her lack of faith in his ability to see again had gotten to him more than anyone else’s.
“You know doctors can practice medicine with vision in only one eye, right?”
It was as though she’d read his mind again. He considered the idea that all of those mostly silent weeks together had done some kind of telepathic melding of their minds. And gave himself an inner shake for his ridiculousness.
He did know doctors could practice with partial vision. Just hadn’t wanted to open the door to that possibility in case it sucked him in.
“Just in case the next six months doesn’t bring enough of your sight back,” she added.
He nodded. And drove.
Another ten miles passed. He spent them wondering what she was thinking. If being out on the road was reminding her of anything. He thought she wiped tears once or twice and he wanted to share every second in there with her. And knew how wrong that was.
Five more miles passed. The burg was nearing. “Were you dating anyone...you know...before everything happened?”
He got hard just knowing that she was thinking about him in that sense. And calmed himself immediately.
“No.” And because he wanted so much to sleep with her, most particularly after the kiss they’d shared the night before, the one he’d sworn he would not think about ever again, he added, “Most of the women I know are the type who want to settle down. You know, the whole get married, have a family thing.”
Like her. Not that he had any reason to say so.
He could feel her gaze on him. Watched the road. The Vegas turnoff would be a little two-lane road within about the next thirty miles. A truck went by in the opposite direction.
“After the way things happened with Emily... There’s... I was partially responsible for one ex-wife being in jail. I’m not doing that again.”
“She had mental issues, Simon. She needed help.”
“I know. But before that...when Opus got sick again...we both knew we weren’t in love anymore. She drew comfort from us being together. I tolerated her, felt sorry for her. And with her health insurance having been transferred to mine, with our finances joined and the money it would cost both of us to fight it out in court...”
“If you had to do it again, would you?”
Hadn’t she heard what he’d just said? “Do what?” He glanced at her. He wasn’t getting married again...
She couldn’t open that door. Not tempt him.
He couldn’t imagine going through a relationship demise with her as he had with Emily.
“Be Opus’s father.”
“In a heartbeat.” The response took no thought at all. It was a certainty.
Which meant...he’d marry Emily again if he had it to do over.
Cara nodded. “Because loving her for a while is better than never loving at all...” Her voice broke on those last words.
It was like she’d hit him across the forehead. She’d probably been referring to herself, to her marriage to Shawn—who’d given her Joy.
And yet...he had some more thinking to do as he got back to his own life. How did his refusing to open himself up to family, to being a father again, honor Opus?
Glancing over at Cara, he wondered if she knew what she’d just done to him. He could almost hear her whisper. Physician, heal thyself.
* * *
SHE HADN’T AGREED to go to Vegas. But she hadn’t argued, either. It didn’t much matter to her where Simon felt comfortable dropping her off. She’d have hopped out at the first gas station and let him get on his way to California, except that he didn’t stop at one.
As for his insistence that they go on the internet to find out what they could, if anything, before she just showed up after having been missing for two months—she had to admit that she’d like a heads-up on what kind of trouble she was in.
Surely the authorities would be looking for her. She’d disappeared with a...dead child in her wake. If Shawn had returned to Ventura, he’d have told them she killed Joy. And...if Mary was gone...as Simon had reported from town the day before...was she being blamed for that, too? Could she possibly have harmed both of them?
Out on the desert and mountain roads, she didn’t see any police cars, but as they neared town, she started to watch for them.
And felt like a fish in a bowl each time one got close.
Maybe they weren’t looking for her. Maybe Simon had told them she killed herself.
Wait! The thought froze her. Closing her eyes, she could hear his voice. So clearly. She replayed it twice more, and then said aloud, “He told me...that day he dropped me on the ground and left me there...that he’d tell them I committed suicide...”
Simon looked over at her. Grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “The man’s a bastard, Cara,” he said. And then swerved to miss a car that had turned in front of him.
All those weeks in th
e cabin...she’d been considering it—killing herself. Over and over, she’d thought that was what she should do.
Because Shawn had planted the thought?
Nauseous, light-headed, she sat there...watching as Simon maneuvered through traffic...waited in the car as he pulled into one of many electronics shops on the Strip and came out with a tablet...and waited again when he pulled into the check-in lane at an upscale resort just down the street from there.
She saw two cops while she sat there. Figured either of them could come haul her out of the car and slap cuffs on her wrists. The thought didn’t scare her at all.
Living without Joy did that.
And the thought of the time in the very near future when she’d also be saying goodbye to Simon—that scared her, too.
* * *
HE DIDN’T LOOK at the bed. He looked at the desk. Was intent on getting the tablet charged and online.
“You really should distance yourself from me, Simon,” Cara said, standing in the entryway of the hotel room he’d rented, watching him. She’d yet to come fully into the room. Even to go into the bathroom after all their time in the car.
“I’m going to get you to safety and then be on my way,” he assured her. He was not leaving her alone. Period.
“I’m sure I’m wanted by the cops. You need to seriously consider what that’s going to mean for you when they find us together.”
For the second time that day, Simon responded automatically, no need for thought. Getting the tablet plugged in, he said, “In the first place, I’m a renowned surgeon in California and can prove that I treated you for severe head wounds after finding you collapsed on my property. You had amnesia.”
“But you didn’t call anyone and report me.”
Tablet now charging, he held the On button. “You were an adult, capable of making the call yourself. You chose not to do so.”
“But if they determine I was out of my mind, they could try to hold you responsible...”
The screen lit up. He looked for the wireless setting...impatient to get signed on. “If it came to that, I’d rather face the charges than leave you alone to figure this out...”
As he said the words, a rock hit his gut. He’d rather have lost Opus, been stabbed by her mother, than not have been her father...
Because love was worth whatever it cost.
With an uncharacteristically unsteady hand, he moved his finger along the tablet, tapping where needed, typing where needed, until he was online with the browser open.
Cara had come into the room. Was sitting on the edge of one of the two beds, not far behind him.
She was watching. He didn’t have to turn around to know. He typed in her name and Ventura, California. Hit Enter.
And heard her gasp when the headlines popped up.
Woman Missing and Endangered. He scrolled. Took in basic facts with record speed.
She couldn’t possibly see the small print, and didn’t lean in any closer.
“You’re listed as having been abducted. There’s a van model. A license plate number.”
He turned around.
She was staring at him, white as a sheet.
Simon forgot all about the tablet. Taking her hand, he walked her into the bathroom. Used a cloth to put cold water on her face. Remembered telling her that he’d done so for Emily.
And was glad to be doing so again. For the woman he loved.
“Cara?”
“I can’t remember, Simon.” She coughed. Was shaking. “I just remember being more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. I knew someone was going to die...”
“Okay...this is good.” He tried to infuse calm into himself, so she could find some, too. “We need to get you to the police,” he said, and felt her shudder. “I’ll be right there with you, Cara. You aren’t getting rid of me yet. Not until you’re safe. I promised.”
He wasn’t a psychologist, but he was a damned good doctor who knew how to deal with shock.
At the rate she was shaking, he considered the very real possibility that her knees might give out on her. Wet cloth in hand, he guided her back to the chair at the desk. Sat down and took her on his lap, wrapping his arms loosely around her.
“Are you okay to look for more?” Whether it was selfish or not, he couldn’t know, but he wanted to be with Cara when she faced whatever news was to come. Wanted to make certain that if she needed to be held, there was someone there to do it.
She nodded.
Arms still around her, he reached for the tablet and typed in Shawn Amos’s name. Wasn’t surprised when it immediately popped up. But...
“Oh, my God...” Cara said the words, staring wide-eyed. “He’s... That’s a mug shot...”
“There’s an APB out on him,” Simon said, in case she couldn’t see that through the tears that were now falling steadily from her eyes. “He was arrested a few days after I found you. Three hours south of where he dropped you. That’s why they weren’t looking for you up by me. They had no evidence that he’d taken you that far.”
Cara was crying steadily, shaking in his arms. He had to get her through this quickly. Holding on to her, he continued reading.
“He was charged with first-degree murder in the death of his sister.”
Cara let out a wail, falling over his arm, and then righting herself. “Oh, God. She’s really gone...”
He kept reading. They had to know. She needed him to find out.
“He was out on bail and cut off his electronic bracelet Thanksgiving Day,” he said.
The man had jumped bail and come straight for Cara.
Thank God Simon had gotten them the hell out of there.
He scrolled a little bit more. There were several articles, from various sources, about the arrest of a surfing school owner. Including one that gave an account of his release on bail. The man was claiming that his missing wife had killed his sister...
“I need to call a friend of mine,” he said to Cara, praying that she hadn’t read that last bit.
She nodded and started to get up. Because he had to get answers immediately, he led her to the bed. “I want you to lie down, just for a few minutes,” he told her. As a doctor he’d have suggested the same.
Cara didn’t argue. She also didn’t reach for him. Turning over, she hugged a pillow to herself, leaving him with a view of her shaking back as she dealt with her grief alone.
* * *
CARA’S HEAD WAS stuffed up. It hurt, but after about an hour she’d cried herself out. Now, sitting in an armchair in the room with Simon, she looked up at him, prepared to hear that her daughter was dead.
“I’ve been on the phone with a colleague...getting medical records.” His words confirmed what she expected to hear. Pediatric medical records would state time and cause of death.
“Mary died from blunt force trauma to the head.” A new wave of pain came as Cara thought of her sweet sister-in-law. She breathed her way through it, knowing from losing her mother that it would be with her forever. “Records show that she was brought in by ambulance, which was called to a house at 1104 Amber Street...”
Sharp pain hit her head. A flash of light. “Eleven-oh-four,” she said, as if from a distance. Trying to think. To focus on Simon.
“That’s what it says.”
“Eleven-oh-four...” Amber was her street, but...
Hit by a physical pain in her head so intense she cried out, she forced herself to hang on. Thought of her mother. Of Joy.
And...
“My whole head hurts,” she said, feeling like a zombie. Her lips were thick, her face stiff. “There’s a sharp pain in my scalp, not inside, from my neck to the top of my head...”
“Here?” Simon’s touch made the pain go away.
“No...” she said, lo
oking up at him, confused and yet...not. “I mean, yes, but not now. Then. That day. It was like he was tearing my hair out...”
Flashes of memory played in her mind, warring with her attempt to focus on Simon’s steady features.
“I’d told Mary to take Joy and run. He tried to keep her from getting to Joy. He backhanded her again and again...”
She stopped. Swallowed bile. Waited for a second and continued. “One time the diamond in his wedding ring hit her cheekbone so hard it split and blood flew... It hit me. I launched myself on him...”
She tried to remember Mary after that but drew a complete blank. “He threw me off his back and kept backhanding me.” She looked at Simon. “I told Mary to enact the plan. She was supposed to take Joy to the neighbors. She knew them from down at the pier. If that’s where the ambulance picked her up, then...what happened to Joy?”
Simon looked as though he was about to say something, and she just wasn’t ready. Couldn’t bear to hear his words yet.
“He dragged me out of the house,” she said. “I must have passed out. I remember him shaking me. Telling me to stand up. And then he pulled me out of the house by my hair.” She was shaking, and yet felt...stronger, too. She’d gone after a monster to save her child.
She knew that woman. Felt like her.
She looked at Simon. “When I passed out, that must be when he hurt Joy.”
Simon took her hand, pulled her back into his lap.
“I can’t find anything on Joy, Cara. No medical records. No mention of her in the news. Nothing. It’s like...she wasn’t there that day.”
“Shawn wasn’t charged with killing her?” She’d kind of thought Simon had spared her that part.
“If he was, it’s not anywhere public.”
“Because she’s a juvenile?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. Usually, when children are...gone...they’re named. There should at least be medical records. And maybe there are, but I haven’t been able to find them. My colleague and I checked every hospital in Ventura. There’s no mention of her.”
She couldn’t stand it. Her baby. What had happened?
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