Читать книгу The Right Woman - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 8

SARAH BRACED HERSELF as Daniel sat beside her. What did he want? Why couldn’t he just leave? It had been a horrific night and she didn’t want to talk. If she looked at him, she’d see that expression he always wore when he was around her.

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked softly.

There it was—that worried tone. She restrained herself from gritting her teeth. “Yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” She raised her head, but didn’t look at him. She just wanted him to go away and to leave her with her thoughts.

“Well, a young girl’s life has been altered forever and I can see it has affected you.”

This time Sarah gritted her teeth; she couldn’t help herself. Then she calmly answered, “I’m human and what Brooke Wallace has just endured would affect anyone.”

“But for you it’s different.”

She clenched her jaw so tight that it hurt. Go away, Daniel. Please go away.

Daniel could sense that she wanted him to leave and normally he would, but not tonight. Tonight they were going to talk even if those frosty blue eyes chilled him to the bone.

He took a deep breath and clasped his hands between his knees. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You’re stiff as a board and you won’t look at me. That’s not a positive, happy-to-see-you reaction.”

A tangible pause followed.

“Okay, Daniel.” Those cool eyes looked directly at him. “You make me uncomfortable, but it has nothing to do with you personally. You remind me of the past and when I see you, I relive that awful time. I just want to forget it. But you’re always there with your worried glances, asking how I am. I don’t need you to be concerned about me. I’m fine, and I think it would be best if we stayed away from each other.”

He’d asked and he’d gotten his answer. It was the reaction he’d been expecting so he didn’t understand why he couldn’t leave it alone—leave her alone. But he couldn’t wait any longer. Everything had to be brought out into the open then maybe he could let go of whatever the hell was bothering him.

“There’s another reason, isn’t there?”

“Like what?” Her eyes never wavered from his.

“Greg.”

She looked away.

“You blame me for his death.” He said the one thing that had stood between them for the past five years.

She bit her lip. “You were his boss, his leader. Why wasn’t someone there to help him? Why wasn’t someone there to save his life?”

“Greg volunteered to go undercover in the strip clubs to nail Rudy Boyd. A personal bodyguard doesn’t come with undercover work. It’s dangerous. We all know the risks and we gladly take them to get scum like Boyd off the streets.” He took a long breath. “You’re right about one thing, though. Greg’s death is my fault. I should have been on top of his activities, but I didn’t have a clue you were with him. That’s something I’ll never be able to forget.”

When she didn’t say anything, he stood. “So we’ll agree to stay out of each other’s lives. That shouldn’t be too hard because I’m quitting the force.”

Her head jerked up. “You’re quitting the force?”

Daniel hadn’t made his final decision until this very moment. Talking to Sarah, hearing the pain still evident in her voice, he made his choice—one he’d been wrestling with for months.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m burned out and I’ve had my fill of seeing victims like Brooke Wallace. The good guys are losing and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just have to get away.”

“I hope it’s not because of something I said.”

“Don’t worry, Sarah. I have a very thick skin.” He glanced toward Brooke’s door. “I hope you’re able to help her.”

Sarah followed his gaze. “Me, too.”

His eyes caught hers. “But who’s going to help you?”

She glanced down at her hands. “You’re doing it again.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just part of my nature, but I can see you haven’t dealt with the past.”

“That doesn’t concern you.” She gripped her hands together.

“You’re right about that, too. Just remember that Rudy Boyd isn’t worth the pain you’re putting yourself through.”

“I…”

“Goodbye, Sarah. Have a good life.” He turned and headed for the emergency room doors.

Outside, he sucked the frigid January air into his lungs, letting it cool the heated emotions inside him. For the first time in ages he felt good about himself. He wasn’t exactly clear about the future. He might take a cruise or go fishing on the Texas coast. He just wanted to get away from the darker side of life and to find some sunshine. He wanted to laugh, to feel happiness again. All that was out there—he just had to find what was right for him.

Zipping his bomber jacket, he headed for his car thinking that, at forty, a man shouldn’t have to find himself. He should already know who he was. But all Daniel felt was a discontentment he couldn’t shake. And Sarah Welch had been a big part of that.

Now he planned to put her out of his mind, out of his future.

SARAH WATCHED DANIEL leave with mixed feelings. She didn’t want to run into him all the time, but she didn’t want him to quit his job, either. He was a good cop—even she knew that. An uneasiness settled in her stomach as she hoped she’d had nothing to do with his decision. But she felt she had.

She picked up her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder. She’d had this strange relationship with Daniel since her involvement with Greg and Boyd.

Relationship? She wasn’t sure what else to call it. All of a sudden, he was in her life. He was kind, understanding and supportive of the trauma she’d been through—and that’s what irritated her. She obviously blamed him for Greg’s death. That had become clearer as the years had passed. She knew, though, that it hadn’t been Daniel’s fault. She and Greg had lied to him. Daniel had no idea she’d been living in the apartment with Greg, who had gone to great lengths to ensure Daniel wouldn’t find out. Daniel would never have allowed her to be in that situation. She’d wondered several times over the past years why Greg had. Love. They’d been so in love that nothing else had mattered—not even their safety.

He’d been her fiancé, yet she couldn’t even conjure up Greg’s face anymore. It was a blur, just the way she wanted the past to be. She’d made so many mistakes.

At thirty-one she should have been wiser, should have been more attuned to the danger Greg had put her in. But sometimes emotions were hard to control. Like now, at thirty-six, she was beginning to acknowledge that she’d made another mistake in blaming Daniel for Greg’s death. She’d been more responsible than Daniel. She’d been the one to persuade Greg to let her tag along. And Rudy Boyd… Nauseating feelings welled in her stomach at the mere thought of him. Sometimes when she closed her eyes, she could feel his disgusting hands on her body. She fought the image—as she always did.

She swallowed, admitting something else to herself: Daniel’s kindness irritated her because he shouldn’t be kind to her at all. He should be upset with her for her involvement. Yet he’d never said a word. That was Daniel, though. He was as gentle and caring with Brooke as he’d been with Sarah. If Daniel left, there’d be too many cops like Russ Devers in charge.

Now what did she do? She didn’t want to talk to him yet she didn’t want him to quit his job, either. That left only one option.

Daniel Garrett, why can’t you stay out of my life?

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace came out of the room and Sarah turned her attention to them. Bob Wallace walked off down the hall, a shattered expression on his face, and Lois came up to her.

“I want to stay with my daughter, but she said for me to go home. I’m not sure what to do.”

“If she wants you to go home, then that’s probably best,” Sarah told the woman whose eyes were filled with tears.

“I don’t want her to be alone.” Lois twisted her hands in agitation.

“I’ll stay until she falls asleep,” Sarah offered.

“Thank you. That makes me feel better.” Lois glanced toward her husband. “Bob’s having a difficult time. She’s his little girl, his tomboy. She does everything with her father—fishing, riding four-wheelers and the yard work.” Lois wiped at her eyes. “I’m not sure how to help him. I don’t even know how to handle the rage inside myself.”

“It will take time, Mrs. Wallace. Just be there for each other and for Brooke. Listen and be supportive without being critical.”

“I’ll try. I don’t understand why this happened to my daughter. She’s a good kid. She’s never given us any problems and now…” Her words trailed away.

Sarah put a comforting arm around her, realizing for the first time that this was probably how Celia and Gran felt after her rescue from Boyd. They’d wanted her to talk, but she would only talk to Serena. She hoped they’d be as patient with Brooke as her family had been with her.

“We have two more daughters at home. What do I tell them?”

“Just be honest and reassuring.”

Lois wiped her eyes again. “Please help my daughter.”

Sarah patted her shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”

Lois nodded, walked to where her husband stood, and they left the emergency area.

Dr. Daley motioned to Sarah. “I got the toxicology report back—a very small trace of heroin. Evidently she must have been fighting so hard he couldn’t get a full dose into her arm. I just gave her a sedative so she should be asleep soon.”

“Thanks, Jim. I’ll check on her.”

She took a deep breath and entered the room. Brooke was back in a fetal position staring at the wall. Sarah sat in the chair by the bed.

“Did they leave?” Brooke asked.

“Yes. Your parents have gone home.”

“My father…he…he couldn’t even look at me.”

“He’s just upset at what’s been done to you and your life. You’re still his little girl.”

“No, I’m not.” Brooke pleated the sheet with her bruised fingers. “I’m not a girl anymore. That’s been taken from me. I’m different now. Daddy knows it and I know it.”

“I’m not going to lie and sugarcoat what’s happened to you. Life will be different and it’s up to you how different it will be. I can see you have enormous inner strength, that’s why you fought so hard to live, and that strength will see you through. You have two parents who love you, which will be a tremendous help in the days ahead.”

“Did your parents help you?”

“No. My parents were dead. They died the day I was born.”

“Oh. What happened?”

“It’s a long, complicated story, Brooke.”

“Tell me, please,” Brooke begged. “Just keep talking. You have a nice voice and if you’re talking, I can’t think.”

Serena was the only one who knew her full story. Talking to people, sharing her feelings, had never been easy for Sarah and she knew it was because she and Celia, her adoptive grandmother, had moved around so much while she was growing up. She’d never had a chance to form lasting friendships. It had always been her and Celia against the world.

“I have an identical twin sister,” she found herself saying.

“That had to have been fun when you were growing up.”

“We didn’t grow up together. I met her for the first time five years ago.”

“Oh,” Brooke murmured. She was falling asleep, so Sarah kept talking.

“When our mother, Jasmine, was eighteen, she fell in love with an older man, John Welch. He’d dated Jasmine’s mother, Aurora, in high school. Since Jasmine and Aurora had a tumultuous relationship, her dating John only added to the discord in the family. Finally, Jasmine ran away to be with John, who separated from his wife Celia. Then Jasmine got pregnant.”

She paused, thinking Brooke was asleep, but the girl opened her eyes. “What happened next?” she asked.

“Jasmine lived with John above his mechanic’s shop, but as the babies started to grow inside her, she became miserable and wanted to go home. John always talked her out of it. In her ninth month, she called Henry Farrell, her father, to tell him she was coming home. But she never made it. When she’d told John, they’d argued and he managed to get into the car with her. They crashed not far from their apartment.”

“And they died?”

“Not right away. Jasmine lived long enough to deliver my sister and me. John was able to talk to his wife, Celia, and ask her to raise his daughters. Jasmine agreed, signing papers to that effect before she died.”

“Why did they want Celia instead of Jasmine’s parents to have you?”

“As I said, the relationship was not good between Jasmine and Aurora, and Jasmine felt that her mother couldn’t truly love her daughters since John was the father. John felt the same way.”

“Did it happen that way?”

“Partly. Henry, Jasmine’s father, couldn’t live with that decision so he went to talk to Celia and they made a deal. Henry and Aurora would raise one twin and Celia would raise the other.”

“Who raised you?”

“Celia. Aurora and Henry raised Serena.”

“You never saw each other after that?”

“No. Celia and I never stayed in one place long because she feared Henry and Aurora would hire an attorney to try to take me, too, since they were the biological grandparents. And the Farrells worried that Celia might change her mind and want Serena back since she actually had custody. For over thirty years they avoided each other and Serena and I never knew of the other’s existence until…”

Brooke was breathing heavily—she was finally asleep. Sarah started to get up, but the story kept running in her head. Until Ethan Ramsey saw me stripping in one of Boyd’s clubs. That one night had saved Sarah’s life.

Ethan, a private investigator, was now Serena’s husband. That night he’d come to Dallas to try to persuade his brother, Travis, to come home for a visit. Travis played in a band and liked the nightlife. Ethan hated that lifestyle, but went out to a strip club hoping to persuade Travis to come home.

Two months earlier Sarah had fallen madly in love with Greg Larson, a narcotics cop, while she’d been working on her Masters in psychology. She’d worked as a waitress when she wasn’t in school. She’d met Greg at the restaurant and the attraction was instantaneous. At the time she’d been deep into her thesis on the lives of strippers, what made them do it and why. She’d felt it was bland and needed more—she’d wanted up-close-and-personal experiences. When Greg had told her about the undercover mission he was about to undertake, she’d thought it a great opportunity for her research. He’d resisted at first, but had eventually agreed because they hadn’t wanted to be apart.

She’d gotten a job as a waitress in the strip club without a problem, but she’d been unprepared for the seedier side of life. The job was degrading and disgusting and nothing like working in a restaurant, as she’d thought it would be. But as long as Greg was there, she’d felt safe. Then Rudy Boyd, the owner of the club, had taken an interest in her. When she’d rebuffed him, it had made him angry.

She and Greg had decided it was time for her to leave, to go home to Celia. The night she was packing, Boyd and two of his men had shown up at the apartment. Boyd had somehow found out that Greg was a cop out to get him. He’d shot him without a second thought, right in front of her. She’d never been so scared or horrified in her life. Holding Greg’s limp body, she’d waited for the sound of a bullet to end her life, too, but Boyd had had other plans.

He’d also learned of her thesis work and had taken the disks from her computer, telling her she was about to get a real first-hand look at a stripper’s life. She’d said she would never strip. He’d laughed, and put a knife to her throat, and said she had a choice—death or stripping.

She’d kept thinking that if she could stay alive, she might manage to get away and go to the police to tell them what had happened to Greg. As days turned into weeks, she hadn’t known how much longer she’d be able to continue to do something so humiliating, so repulsive. It had taken all her strength to go on, but that strength eventually waned. Then a miracle happened.

Ethan Ramsey had come to the club. Seeing how nervous she was on stage, he’d sensed something was wrong, though he hadn’t thought much about it at the time. The very next day he’d met Serena in Fort Worth. Looking suave, polished and beautiful, he couldn’t help but recall the familiar, distraught face of the woman of the night before. He’d given Serena his card, telling her that if she needed help, to just call him.

Serena had thought it a come-on line. But Ethan’s story about the stripper that looked just like her, had haunted Serena’s mind. She’d eventually hired Ethan to find the stripper—and he had. Serena and Sarah had found each other, too, learning they’d been deceived by the people who’d raised them.

In the end it had all worked out. Sarah now lived with her grandmother, Aurora Farrell, forming a relationship they should have had years ago. Sarah finished her degree and Rudy Boyd had been convicted of capital murder. The best part was that Serena and Ethan had fallen in love, gotten married and now had a three-year-old daughter, Jassy, named after Jasmine, their mother.

The connection between her and Serena was unlike anything Sarah had ever experienced. They were identical—looking at Serena was like looking in a mirror. It was as though they were the same person, yet different. At times, they could read each other’s minds, which was scary to Sarah, who had always been a private person. It was also wonderful to have someone who knew her so well. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t tell Serena and vice versa.

Sarah stood and brushed Brooke’s hair back from her face. The medication had finally taken effect and Brooke would be out for a while. It was what she needed—lots of rest. Sarah picked up her purse and the chart, and made her way from the room.

She couldn’t have made it through that terrible time in her life if it hadn’t been for Serena. Daniel had been there, too. She brushed that thought away as she wrote in Brooke’s chart. Handing the chart to the nurse, she walked to the doors and out into the night.

The cold wind blew against her and she shivered. She’d been in such a hurry to get to the hospital that she’d forgotten her coat. She ran to her car and quickly started the engine, hoping it would warm up quickly.

It was late so there wasn’t much traffic. Stopping for a light, she thought back to the day Ethan and Daniel had pulled her out of Boyd’s closet, where she’d been hiding from her captor. She had passed out, but had come to as Daniel checked to see if she was still breathing. All she’d had on was a robe and a pair of bikini panties… His head was on her chest… Her robe was open, her breasts exposed. Every time she’d seen Daniel after that day, she’d remember his face against her naked skin and it filled her with shame and embarrassment.

She’d taken off her clothes in front of men. It was hard for her to believe that now, but she had done what she’d had to do to stay alive. It was a debilitating memory forever etched in her mind. The reality of what had happened to her was still hard to understand. And Daniel was part of that reality. He’d seen her at her worst. She didn’t like being reminded of that.

Her hand went to the silk blouse buttoned at her neck. She never let anyone see her body anymore. After all this time, she still didn’t want a man to see her, to touch her. Maybe that part of her life was over.

The thought upset her. She didn’t want to be this repressed for the rest of her life. As a professional, Sarah recognized that her behavior wasn’t healthy.

She had the urge to talk to Serena, but it was too late to call so she would wait until the morning. She also had to tell Serena and Ethan about Daniel—that he was quitting. Then maybe she’d lose these guilty feelings.

Again, she knew that wasn’t going to happen until she faced whatever was between her and Daniel; guilt, blame, irritation or something deeper. There was an undeniable tension between them and until it was resolved, she’d have no peace.