“Here we are.” The nurse walked in with a glass of juice. Handing Julianne the glass, she looked at Garrison. “Sir, you’ll have to leave. The doctor should be in at any moment.”
He nodded and stood. “Come on, gumdrop. We’ll go back to your room until your mother signs you out.” Emily scrambled off the bed and joined him at the door. “We’ll be back after the doctor speaks with you. If he releases you immediately I’ll be glad to take you home.”
“We’ll see what the doctor says.” Julianne waved and blew a kiss to her daughter. Despite her headache, all she wanted to do was go home. Garrison’s words came back to her. A smoke bomb. Why would somebody place a smoke bomb in her house? Who would have done such a thing? One thing was certain, she would never, ever, forget to turn on the security system again.
It was nearly three hours later when she finally left the hospital, taking a taxi to her house. Not only had she had a lengthy discussion with the doctor, who assured her the only ill effect she could expect was a headache, but she was also visited by a police officer.
Garrison had left with Emily, offering to return to the hospital to take Julianne home, but she’d insisted a taxi would be fine. Garrison and his wife had already done more than enough.
She leaned her head back against the taxi seat, grateful the driver was the silent type. The interview with the policeman had been difficult with question after question about Sam, questions she couldn’t answer. She knew the police wanted Sam found, and she suspected they thought she knew more than she professed about his whereabouts.
Why a smoke bomb? What was the purpose? Who was responsible? Her life no longer made sense and that frightened her.
She sat up as the driver pulled into her driveway. Although Garrison had told her the house was okay, she was still surprised to see it standing with no significant damage.
Paying the driver, she was grateful her headache had abated somewhat. She was also glad Emily was with Letta and Garrison, giving Julianne an opportunity to spend some time alone. She needed to sort through the fogginess of the night before, try to figure out who had carried Emily out of the house. Before Emily had left with Garrison, Julianne had questioned her daughter about the fire. But Emily had been unconscious and had had no memory of the smoke or of being carried out of the house.
The police and fire department had spent much of the previous night and this morning investigating the house. Julianne had been told that the bomb had been set off inside a small metal canister on the floor of her utility room. The police had collected the canister and debris for evidence. There had been no clue as to how entry had been made into the house, and the policeman had warned her that security systems didn’t work unless they were activated.
As the taxi drove off, Julianne unlocked the front door and went inside. She wrinkled her nose as she smelled the lingering scent of smoke, and her heart beat an unsteady rhythm as she remembered those moments of pure panic when she’d awakened in the middle of the night and thought the house was on fire.
She walked into the living room and sank down onto the sofa. A wave of familiar despair washed over her. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.
The events of the night before played and replayed in her mind, along with the thoughts of the lonely nights, the constant worry since Sam’s disappearance. She could still taste the horror that had filled her up inside when the police had appeared at her door on the night of Joseph’s murder. She’d scarcely had time to absorb the fact that her father-in-law had been murdered when she was informed that Sam was the number one suspect in the case.
She knew without a doubt that Sam hadn’t killed his own father. The man she married wasn’t capable of such a thing. The very idea was ludicrous. But where was he? Why wasn’t he here fighting for vindication? She rubbed her forehead, her thoughts disjointed as she shifted through the past.
His absence frightened her, made her wonder if she knew exactly who the man was she had married. In the time of their marriage she’d somehow lost touch of the man, lost touch with her happiness.
“Julianne.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the whisper of her name. She pulled her hands down from her face and gasped in shock. “Sam.”
He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room and once again Julianne had the disturbing sensation of reality shifting, fading away and slipping out of her reach.
For a long moment she remained seated on the sofa, staring at him, afraid he was an apparition created from her dreams. He was achingly familiar, yet at the same time different. His dark hair had grown longer than she’d ever seen it, and he’d lost weight. His eyes, always so blue, always so clear, appeared darker with tiny lines of strain radiating from the corners. Her husband. Emily’s father. Sam. A hauntingly familiar stranger.
In all the time he’d been gone, she hadn’t even fantasized what she would do, how she would feel if and when he finally returned. Intense relief that he appeared safe and sound and a strange unexpected discomfort battled with each other.
“Juli.” He took a step toward her, as if he was unsure whether she would welcome an embrace.
She shook her head, the use of the nickname he’d always whispered to her when they’d made love caused her heart to resound with a mixture of joy and mourning. She realized she didn’t want his embrace, at least not yet. She wanted answers. She wanted explanations. “It was you last night, wasn’t it? You carried Emily out of the house,” she finally said. “I thought…I was afraid I was losing my mind.”
He nodded and eased down into the chair across from where she sat on the sofa. “I thought the place was on fire. Is she all right?”
Julianne nodded, searching his face in bewilderment. “Where were you? How did you get in to get to her?” So many questions fought to be asked. But she wasn’t even sure where to begin.
“For the past couple of days I’ve been staying in the attic.”
Again a startled gasp escaped from her. No wonder she’d thought she’d smelled his cologne, felt his presence in the house. He’d been there…just a mere staircase away from her. “And you’ve been seeing Emily?”
Again he nodded, a whisper of a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. “She caught me sneaking downstairs the other night.” He leaned back in the chair, his gaze remaining fixed on her. Her skin was pale, her eyes still wide with shock, but to him she looked beautiful.
In all the days and nights of running, it had been Julianne’s image that had kept him sane. The mental vision of her face had given him the courage to continue, had created his will to survive.
But the expression she wore now was not the one from his dreams. Sam’s stomach clenched tightly as he recognized the distance that intensified the darkness of her eyes.
He hadn’t known what to expect from her. Anger? Resentment that he’d been gone? “Julianne, I know it’s been difficult,” he began as he leaned toward her.
“Difficult? Oh, Sam, I’ve been worried sick.” Her voice rang with an edge of unsuppressed hysteria. “Dear God, Sam. You’ve been gone over four months. I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive.” She stood and walked over to the window, her posture oddly vulnerable as she faced away from him.
He breathed a sigh of relief, realizing there was no censure in her voice, no anger at all. “I know, but I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of put ting you and Emily at risk. I needed time…“
“I knew that would be the only thing to keep you away.” She whirled around to face him. “Where have you been? Why have you stayed away for so long?” She bit her bottom lip, a familiar gesture that expressed bewilderment. “My head is whirling with questions. I don’t understand any of this.”
Sam frowned. There was nothing he wanted more than to take her in his arms, make love to her, lose himself in her, but he knew she wouldn’t allow that to happen until her questions had been satisfied. And to answer her questions he would have to relive the whole bloody mes
s.
“Julianne, please sit down and I’ll try to tell you everything you want to know.” He waited until she’d sat back down on the sofa, then he raked a hand through his hair and leaned back once again. “You asked me where I’ve been. Everywhere and nowhere. Beneath bridges, in alleys, anywhere I hoped the police wouldn’t find me.”
“But why? Why not turn yourself in? You’re innocent…”
“And innocent men go to prison every day,” Sam replied tersely. “Julianne, somebody killed my father, somebody close to me, within the company. I can’t turn myself in until I find out who did it, who killed Dad.”
“Sam, talk to the police, let them sort out the crime.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I don’t know who to trust, who can’t be trusted. If I turn myself in they’ll throw away the keys, and the real murderer will remain free. The police are looking for a fall guy and I’m him.”
“But surely the police—”
“I called the police from a pay phone booth minutes after the murder. I had every intention of telling them exactly what had happened, what my father had thought was going on in the company and why he was murdered. Before I could get off the phone, somebody in a police car drove by and shot at me. I realized then I was strictly on my own.”
Again Julianne’s bottom lip was caught in her teeth, a frown line creasing her forehead. “What was going on in the company?”
“Dad suspected that large sums of money were being laundered through Baker Enterprises.”
“Why didn’t he go to the police?” Julianne asked.
“You know that wasn’t the way Dad operated. Besides, he knew it would have caused a huge scandal. He was afraid stock prices would drop and the business would be destroyed. He didn’t want to go to the police until he knew who was responsible. He thought he could handle it himself.” Grief tore at Sam’s insides as he remembered the vision of his father dead, slumped over his desk.
Again he fought his need to embrace Julianne, allow her sweet love and warmth to banish the horror of that night and the resulting lonely, frightening nights that had followed. “Julianne.” He pushed himself up out of the chair and took a step toward her, then stopped as she held up a hand in protest.
“Don’t,” she said softly, her brown eyes reflecting her inner turmoil. She sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around herself, as if fighting a chill. “So what’s changed since the night of your father’s murder? What are you going to do now? Turn yourself in?”
“No, I’m not turning myself in.” Instead of sitting back down, Sam began to pace, his thoughts pulled once again to the crime that had not only stolen his father from him, but had stolen a major piece of his own life, as well. “Dad had told me he was closing in on the people responsible for the laundering, and he was keeping notes in a computer file. For several days after the murder, I didn’t know what to do, where to go, then I remembered Bob Johnson.”
Julianne frowned. “You mean the guy who moved out to Kansas several years ago?”
Sam nodded. “Casey’s Corners, Kansas. Bob used to be head of security for the corporation. I knew he had kept in contact with friends in the company and hoped he might know something about what was going on, so I went to Casey’s Corners to see him.”
“But he and his wife were killed in a car accident,” Julianne interjected. “Did you see either of your sisters while you were there?”
“No, I left soon after Bob’s and Mary’s deaths. However, before he died, Bob let me use his computer and I managed to tap into the corporation lines. There was a file in Dad’s computer I couldn’t access, and I think that file holds the clues to his murderer.”
“So what makes you think you can access it now if you couldn’t before?”
Sam stopped his pacing and pulled out the charm that hung on a thick gold chain around his neck. “It’s taken me months to figure it out, but I finally realized the computer access code is on the back of the charms Dad gave each of us kids.”
Julianne stood. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get to a computer and get that file. Finding out who’s responsible for your father’s murder seems to be the only way to clear you of the crime.”
“Wait, it’s not quite that easy,” he replied, and she sank back down, her brow wrinkled as she stared up at him. “A portion of the code is written on each of the charms. All of them are needed to retrieve the computer file. Unfortunately, I only have my charm and Colleen’s. Somebody else has Carolyn’s and Bonnie’s charms.”
“Who?” Julianne asked.
“Somebody who knows the importance of them. Somebody who wants to get into that file as badly as I do.”
“So, what are you going to do now?” She stood and once again went to stand by the window.
What are you going to do now? Not, what are we going to do now? Her words frightened Sam, made him realize that the four months had created an emotional distance between them he hadn’t realized. He’d been living on dreams and feeding on fantasies for the whole time he’d been gone, never realizing until now the repercussions of his absence added to the problems they had been having before he disappeared. It had been easy to forget the precarious position their marriage had been in before the murder, but now he was faced with it.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered truthfully. “I’m hoping if I work at the computer long enough I can break the code without the two missing charms.” He looked at her, drinking her in with his eyes. “In any case, it was time to come home, past time. Oh, Julianne, I’ve missed you.”
This time he didn’t fight his impulse. He walked over to where she stood. Without pause he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in the sweet scent of her hair, breathing in the fragrance that belonged to her alone.
For a moment he lost his pain, felt sheltered from life’s storms. His grief, his fears, the months of running and looking over his shoulder melted away as her body warmth suffused him.
Slowly, reluctantly, he raised his head, aware that she didn’t return his embrace but rather seemed to just endure it. For a moment she remained rigid in his arms, then with a small, almost imperceptible moan, she melted against him.
“We should call Garrison and let him know you’re here,” she said, breaking the embrace all too soon.
“No,” he replied quickly. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m here. I think somebody suspects already. I think that’s why the bomb was set off last night…to smoke me out. But, Julianne, for your own safety, you have to pretend I’m not here, that you don’t know where I am. Until I can break that code and get into Dad’s file, nobody can know I’m here.”
“What about Emily? How can we assure she won’t tell anyone you’re here in the house?”
Sam smiled. “Everyone close to Emily knows she’s given to flights of fancy. She’s already seen me and you didn’t believe her. I can’t imagine that anyone else will.”
Julianne closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t know what was more frightening, not knowing where you were, what you faced, or having you here and knowing you’re still in danger.” She opened her eyes and looked at him and he was surprised at the strength that radiated from her gaze. “You know I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
“At least I’m home now. I can’t tell you how I’ve longed to be back here with you. Every night I dreamed of being in our bed, holding you in my arms.”
“Sam.” Her gaze didn’t quite meet his and she hesitated a moment, as if dreading what she had to say. “I’d rather you stay in one of the guest rooms for a little while.” She raised her chin and he saw a spark of strength he’d never seen before. “Sam, things weren’t great before all this happened. Nothing has changed to make it better in the months you’ve been gone. I—I just need some time…time to adjust.”
Sam nodded, trying to ignore the hurt her words created. It had been easy while he’d been on the run to focus only on the memories that brought him happiness, reaffirmed his emotional bond to
Julianne. But he hadn’t forgotten the fight they’d had the night before the murder, a fight that had been building for months.
No, things hadn’t been good between them, and she was right that nothing had changed. But being on the run had reminded him of his love for her, his need for her and he wasn’t going to let her go out of his life without a fight. Still, he knew better than to push too hard too soon. She needed time. He would give her time, but he would be damned if he would let their marriage die.
He’d lost his father to murder and his reputation had been tarnished by pending criminal charges, but he could live with these griefs. However, he wasn’t at all sure he could stand losing Julianne and Emily. His wife and daughter were all he had left, and the thought of living without them scared him more than he’d been frightened in his months of running.
“Julianne, is it too late for us?” he asked softly.
She sighed, her brow still wrinkled, her expression troubled. “I don’t know, Sam. I honestly don’t know.”
Chapter Four
“Is it too late?”
Sam’s words haunted Julianne as she lay in her bed alone that night. She wasn’t sure where Sam was, whether he had chosen to sleep in one of the spare rooms down the hall or if he’d decided to go back to his hiding place in the attic.
She knew all she had to do was offer and he’d be beside her, sharing their bed, holding her in his arms. If she’d allowed him into the bed, she knew they would make love and her confusion would only increase.
Just the thought of the possibility of making love with him filled her with a deep yearning. Not just for the physical act of making love, but for the way Sam used to hold her afterward, their hearts beating mirror rhythms as if perfectly attuned to each other.
But those times were distant memories, gone long before Sam’s absence. Somehow in the space of living their everyday life, they’d lost each other, and she simply wasn’t sure if they could find their way back to what they’d had in the early days of their marriage.
Daddy On The Run Page 4