Читать книгу Paternity Unknown - Jean Barrett - Страница 13

“Why don’t you confess, Ethan? Think of how much better you’ll feel after you tell me all about it.”

The voice that taunted him was as soft as silk. And as deadly as a cobra. It was also familiar. He knew that voice, didn’t he? But how could he match it to a face he couldn’t see? A face that was hidden in the blackness behind the glaring, white-hot lights that blinded him.

If only he could sleep. But they wouldn’t let him sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, they would rouse him. Sometimes by slapping or kicking him awake. At other times by subjecting him to those frigid showers.

The interrogation was endless. But he hadn’t broken. He had been trained not to tell them what they wanted to know.

“We already know the truth anyway, Ethan. Your hands told us the truth. Look at your hands.”

He looked down at his hands. Horrified, he saw that they were covered with blood.

“His blood, Ethan. You have his blood on your hands.”

This time, his tormentor thrust his face down into the light. Ethan recoiled from the sight of it. Koh!

So he had been right about the voice. But what was that monster doing here in Seattle? He had left Koh back in the bleak, North Korean cell where they had held him all those weeks of pure hell.

“Tell me you did it, Ethan. Tell me you killed him, and then you can sleep.”

Lack of sleep. It had him confused. Koh couldn’t be here. Not in Seattle. Whatever the explanation, he held on to his determination. He refused to talk.

His interrogator sighed with a regret that belied his brutality. “You leave us no choice, Ethan.”

He heard the sound of a door opening in the blackness. Then someone stumbling as he was pushed forward into the light. Ethan recognized the figure and was shocked. Hands bound behind him, the man’s face was a mess of bruises and raw cuts. They had beaten him.

It was Zach, of course, who had been on the reconnaissance mission with him. Who had been captured along with Ethan by the North Koreans. Why had they brought Zach to Seattle?

“Don’t tell them, Ethan,” Zach pleaded with him. “Whatever they do to you, don’t tell them anything.”

“Oh, but he will,” Koh insisted. “When he watches what we are going to do to you, he will talk. Won’t you, Ethan?”

Ethan had withstood it all, every punishment they’d inflicted. Was prepared to go on resisting them whatever they made him suffer. But to torture Zach while they forced him to watch—

“Bastards!”

Surging up from the hard stool, he struck out at them, fists swinging in an explosive rage…

“IT’S ALL RIGHT. Ethan, it’s all right.”

A pair of hands. He felt a pair of hands on his tight fists, striving to restrain him. They weren’t cruel hands. They were gentle.

“You were having a nightmare.”

The voice was gentle, too. And deeply concerned. He went still, his fists uncurling as a blessed reality replaced the nightmare. The darkness of another night had wrapped itself around the cabin where he was sitting up on the mattress. Lauren had slipped off the sofa and was kneeling in front of him.

They had left one of the lamps burning on the table above them, its wick turned low. In the feeble glow, he could see her troubled face.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, “you don’t have to tell me about it, but it must have been some awful nightmare. You were shouting in your sleep.”

Awful? Yeah, just about as bad as it could get. His imprisonment in North Korea over a year ago had somehow gotten mixed up in his dream with what happened just days ago in Seattle. Only he was no longer in the service. There would be no one this time to negotiate his release.

Another cell. He couldn’t be locked away in another cell. After what he had endured in North Korea, it would destroy him. But it could happen. It would happen if—

“Your hands are shaking,” she said.

She must have sensed how desperately he needed her comfort in that moment. That’s why she did a wonderful, impulsive thing. Still clinging to his hands, head bent over them, she covered their backs with slow, soothing kisses.

He shuddered over the heat of her mouth on his flesh. She felt so good, so right. A lifeline of sanity in a world that had become demented for him. He didn’t know how he was going to bear leaving her when the time came for him to go.

“Lauren,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion.

She lifted her head and met his gaze. He looked into her eyes and read understanding there. She knew what he wanted, what was tearing him up inside: her. He needed her as he had never needed any other woman.

It was wrong of him to take advantage of her just because she was receptive to that need. He realized that. But, in her generosity to offer him what would bring him relief from his anguish, however temporary, he was unable to resist her.

With a groan of submission, snatching his hands away from hers in order to gather her into his arms, he reached for her. Hauled her softness tightly against his hardness, crushed his mouth over hers.

Alternately fierce and tender. That’s how Ethan kissed her, and how she responded with her own kisses.

They must have shed their clothes between those fevered kisses. He didn’t remember. He only knew that at some point they were both naked, that he was swollen with desire, his senses inflamed by the taste and feel of her.

He should have been beyond all hesitation by then, but some shred of conscience did make him pause. “It’s not too late,” he rasped. “We don’t have to—”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, we do.”

Her own urgency robbed him of all reason then, leaving him with only one scrap of responsibility. At least he had that much, he thought, his hand groping for his wallet on the table beside them.

Fumbling for the condom inside, slitting it open and removing it, he sheathed himself. There was no self-control after that. All the rest was a mindless, rapturous joining. Their two bodies consuming each other, straining for release and finding it in a roaring fulfillment.

Afterwards, holding her securely against his side as she slept, Ethan knew he should regret what had just happened. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

COLD WATER pelted his body, reviving him. He was able to think clearly as he soaped himself and turned under the shower spray.

The first light of morning had revealed that the storm had ended. That meant the plows would soon be out clearing the roads, maybe already were.

Ethan didn’t think there was much chance of one of them spotting his rental car down among the trees. It must be snow-covered by now. But there was always that risk.

And if it were sighted and its presence reported, it would be investigated and identified as a rental car. Its license would be easily traced to the agency in Kalispell. The police would be told who had rented the vehicle. They would run a check on him, learn he was wanted in Seattle. And since the sedan had been abandoned, and the cabin the only nearby shelter in the storm, it was only logical…

It can’t happen that fast. You still have time.

Okay, that was probably true, but he couldn’t waste that time. He was defenseless here. He had to get away just as quickly as possible. How? The rental was useless.

Lauren’s car, he thought. She had told him over dinner last night that she’d left it parked up at the mouth of her driveway where it joined the road, just as she always did whenever there was the threat of a heavy snow that made her lane impassable. He didn’t want to involve Lauren, but there was no other way. He’d have to ask to borrow her car, dig it out of the snow, and drive into Elkton.

Things would be all right if he could just reach Hilary Johnson. He would make them all right.

And then what? What was he going to do about Lauren? Running out on her after last night was unthinkable. But with what he was facing, how could he do otherwise? Anything else would be unfair to both of them.

And just how fair is it to go without a word of explanation, to leave her hurt and wondering? You can’t do that. She deserves to know.

Ethan made up his mind. He would tell her everything over breakfast. She might react very badly to the truth, order him out of the cabin and her life. He wouldn’t blame her if she did, even though it would kill him if she turned away from him now. No other choice, though. He would have to take his chances with her.

It was when he turned off the shower that he was able to hear a kind of reverberating noise somewhere outside the cabin. Sounded like machinery.

A snowmobile? he wondered. Had Lauren fired up her snowmobile?

Puzzled, he flung back the shower door and grabbed a towel. It wasn’t until he emerged from the stall and was swiftly drying himself that he realized what he was hearing was a heavy-duty vehicle of some sort.

The thing suddenly went silent, as if it had arrived at its destination. Seized by a grim understanding, his stomach lurched.

Ethan dragged on a pair of jeans. He didn’t bother with any other clothes. He could hear voices out in the living room. He knew there was no point in trying to make a break for it. He wouldn’t get ten yards.

His chest and feet bare, he left the bathroom, walked into the living room. He had been wrong in his judgment. Time had already run out on him.

There were two of them, both of them with faces like stone. Maybe they were state troopers, or maybe they were from the local sheriff’s department. He didn’t know, didn’t care. All that mattered was Lauren. She stood there staring at him with an expression on her face that chewed him up inside.

One of the uniforms held a gun on him while his younger partner approached him and began to cautiously check his jeans for any weapon he might be carrying.

The officer with the gun addressed him, solemnly intoning, “Ethan Brand, you’re under arrest as a suspect in the murder of Jonathan Mortimer Brand. You have the right to…”

Ethan didn’t listen to the rest, didn’t even look at their faces as he stood there without moving. The only face that mattered was Lauren’s. She still wore that stricken expression.

He tried to meet her gaze, tried to send her a silent message of appeal, imploring her forgiveness. But she turned away from him. He had never felt such a miserable sense of abandonment.

Eleven months later

IT WAS ANOTHER Montana. The mountains and the forests were still there, just as he remembered them. But they weren’t wrapped in deep snow. The gaudy colors of early October tinted them now, the hardwoods ablaze with crimson and gold against the drab green of the pines. The air was kinder, too, almost balmy and wearing a faint autumn haze.

Yeah, it was different, although Ethan was able to recognize the road he traveled, this time in a rental sedan that almost matched the clear blue of the sky. There were familiar landmarks, like the sign that advertised vacation cottages for rent in Elkton.

Elkton. That was why he’d come back to this place. He had unfinished business with Hilary Johnson, who now lived permanently in her hometown.

His grandfather’s former housekeeper had lied on the stand when they’d brought her back to Seattle as the chief witness in Ethan’s trials. Both juries had believed her, but her testimony hadn’t been enough to convict him. Insufficient evidence. He’d been acquitted in the end.

Ethan should have let it go at that, gotten on with his life. He couldn’t. Whatever the final verdict, he knew that the police and the public continued to doubt his innocence. He had to know why Hilary Johnson had lied. Had to do whatever he could to clear himself, or this cloud of guilt would shadow him for the rest of his days.

Hell, why was he playing games with himself? He had realized the moment he’d boarded the plane, even before then, that it was not just Hilary Johnson who was bringing him back to Montana. Lauren. He had to try to make it right with Lauren.

The road climbed the ridge and swept around a bend. Ethan slowed the car. Another landmark. This was the spot where he had skidded and gone over the embankment.

Recollections. And the worst of them was the gut-wrenching memory of Lauren’s face when those two cops had hauled him away from her cabin in cuffs. The look of betrayal on her face had haunted him all those long months they had kept him in jail.

He had to try to make it right with her. If she would let him.

He was seething with that hope when he reached the turn into her driveway and descended the long, winding lane. Maybe she wouldn’t be here. He hadn’t considered that.

Swooping around a curve, he emerged from the trees. Another vehicle, a green compact, was parked at the edge of the clearing. He figured it had to be hers. He pulled in behind it and climbed from the rental.

The ground here had been white when he’d last seen it, the lake frozen. Now the clearing was a golden brown with drifting leaves and the open waters of the lake a deep blue. No wind, either. The morning was tranquil.

Ethan was aware of the stillness as he crossed the clearing to the cabin, mounted the steps of the porch and arrived at the front door. The door was slightly ajar. When he rapped on it, it spread inward.

“Lauren,” he called softly. “You here?”

No answer. The open door was an invitation. He probably had no right to look at it that way, but he did.

Ethan walked into the living room and was immediately assaulted by memories. Some of them were raw and painful. Most of them were good memories. He tried to hang on to those, just as he had clung to them all those months in jail.

The cabin was silent. There was no sign of Lauren. But sacks of groceries stood on the bar that divided the kitchen from the living room, as if she had recently arrived home from the store and hadn’t had time to unpack them.

A movement through one of the windows at the side of the cabin captured his attention. Ethan went to the glass and looked out. Lauren was there in the yard putting seed in a bird feeder. The sight of her slim figure had emotions welling up inside him. They threatened to spill over when she left the feeder and trotted back around the corner of the cabin.

She hadn’t heard his car, didn’t know he was here. He turned away from the window, waiting for her. When she came through the door and discovered his presence, she stopped, a look of naked shock on her face.

Swiftly recovering herself, she challenged him with a sharp, “How did you get in?”

It was not the greeting Ethan wanted to hear, even if he did deserve it. “The door was ajar. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

She set the container of sunflower seeds on a small table just inside the door and then moved away toward the far end of the living room, as if she didn’t trust him to be anywhere near her.

“How long have you been here?” she demanded.

“I just got—” He broke off. He could see she was trembling. She was afraid. Afraid of him. Stung by her fear, he tried to reassure her, saying solemnly, “I told you once, Lauren, that I wouldn’t hurt you. I meant it. I mean it now.”

“You turn up like this out of nowhere just to tell me that?”

She was right. He should have phoned her first, asked if he could see her. Why hadn’t he? Maybe because he’d feared she would hang up on him.

She raked her fingers through her auburn hair. That’s when he noticed she had cut it and that this shorter length suited her. Her action was evidence that she was still apprehensive. He tried again to ease her.

“I wouldn’t hurt anyone, Lauren, and I didn’t. What I was accused of when they arrested me last year…well, I stood trial for that and was—”

“I know. It was all over the news.”

Yeah, given his grandfather’s wealth and prominence, he supposed the whole thing was sensational enough to have been covered even here in Montana.

“Then you know I’m no longer a wanted man.”

“What I don’t know is what you’re doing here.”

This was all going badly. They were stiff and awkward with each other, not what he’d planned. “We’re unfinished business, Lauren. Whatever happened, I cared about us. I still care.”

“You had a strange way of showing that. Eleven months of silence.”

She was angry now. Unable to forgive him. He couldn’t blame her. No, he hadn’t tried to call her or write her. How could he, with a prison sentence looming over him every day of those eleven months?

Almost a year. A whole year locked away in a Seattle jail. Held without bail because not only was the charge murder, he’d been a suspect who had fled the state of Washington with the intention of badgering a witness. Hilary Johnson, who, after her deposition, had come home to Montana until her testimony was needed.

She had testified, but only after lengthy delays that had preceded the first trial, which had ended in a hung jury. Then more delays followed until the second trial, when the jury this time had brought in a reluctant verdict of innocence. The prosecution had failed to prove Ethan’s guilt beyond any reasonable doubt.

And throughout those eleven months, he had made no effort to contact Lauren. He’d been convinced it wouldn’t be fair to her, that with the threat of prison he’d only be hurting her more than he already had. She hadn’t needed him messing up her life again.

This was what Ethan had thought, and he realized now how wrong he had been.

“You’re right,” he said. “I owe you an explanation.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need it. I just want you to go.”

Hoping an appeal would work, Ethan started toward her. She backed away from him. That’s when he realized she was more than just hurt or scared. She was worried about something. Her gaze nervously, briefly slewed in the direction of the door to the master bedroom. Ethan could see that door now. It was closed.

“What is it, Lauren? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing. Please, just go.”

She was protecting something inside that bedroom. Or someone. He was certain of it. She was no longer living here alone.

Who? Another man? Was the guy from Helena back in her life?

He was gripped by a sudden spasm of jealousy. Stupid. He wasn’t entitled to such an emotion. Lauren was a young, vibrant woman. Why shouldn’t she have someone in her life?

But as unreasonable as he knew his jealousy to be, it persisted, resulting in an equally irrational action.

When he changed direction and strode purposefully toward the bedroom door, Lauren tried to cut him off. He was too quick for her, arriving at the door before she could prevent his intention.

“You have no right!” she cried in a panic.

No, he didn’t. No right at all to confront some concealed lover like an outraged husband. He could end up making a thorough fool of himself. Probably would. He didn’t care. He opened the door, walked into the room.

There was no other man. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for a crib located near the window.

Ethan was only dimly aware of Lauren behind him, plucking at the sleeve of his sweater in a futile effort to stop him. Shrugging her off, he moved numbly across the room.

He reached the crib, the breath sticking in his throat as he looked down into its shallow depth. A pair of blue-green eyes, his eyes, gazed back at him innocently.