Bridal Reconnaissance (7 page)

Once she had Christopher they would head out of River City, the only home she remembered. And according to the man who claimed to be her husband, the only home she’d ever had.

Fingers numbed from the cold slid the key into the ignition and turned. A spinning noise and metallic clank drifted from under the hood, but no rumble of the motor springing to life.

Nothing.

Not again.

She shifted against the seat and a corner of the business card stabbed into her leg. No flimsy paper for him. Unbendable, just like the man.

Of course.
He’d had his friend sabotage the van. Anger bubbled up and threatened to explode in a scream. She contained it but slammed the door after jumping down from the driver’s seat.

Unlatching the hood was a familiar action, which she did by rote. But looking at the motor revealed no secrets. This time the cables were attached to the battery. What else could he have done to prevent it from starting?

Out of habit she reached for the diamond necklace, but it was gone. Pawned that morning. Now she had money—money she’d intended to use to start a new life for Christopher and herself—and she’d have to use it to repair or replace her vehicle. Doing either would take time, time she didn’t have.

She blinked back tears of frustration and turned to Mrs. Olson’s house across the street where a curtain swished at a window.

Stubborn, Evan had called her. He had no idea. And until now, neither had she. She wasn’t going to lose another day of running. He could chase down leads. She would chase freedom from the animal that was getting out of prison and freedom from her “husband.”

T
HE STOP WAS UNSCHEDULED
. Not that she’d really scheduled anything.

She certainly hadn’t anticipated the extra time and expense of begging Mrs. Olson to coerce her mechanic son to get the van in right away to his repair shop. But for an extra fifty, he’d quickly replaced the worn-out starter, something he’d warned her some time ago had to be done—something she wished she had gotten fixed before.

And something Evan Quade could not have tampered with.

So she had judged him a bit too harshly. She didn’t intend to apologize.

What she had intended was to get the heck out of town once her van was running again.

So why had she gone to the D.A.’s office? Could it be she had some faith in Evan Quade, that she be
lieved he could prevent the release of the prisoner who had stolen her life?

Only the D.A. would know for sure.

Peter Sullivan closed the office door behind his back after stepping into the hall with her. Amanda peered around his shoulder through the glass door and saw her son bent over, furiously scribbling on a legal pad at the D.A.’s desk. When she’d picked him up from school, he had refused to talk to her. He didn’t want to leave his home. Neither did she.

“Who
is
he?” Amanda asked, turning her attention to the D.A.

“Evan Quade?” Sullivan jerked at the knot of his paisley tie. “Who he says he is.”

Her breath caught and burned in her throat. “My husband?”

“Yes.”

“So I am Amanda Quade?”

“Legally Caroline Quade, but you never used your legal name. That’s why we couldn’t match you to the missing person report he’d filed on you. The police in Chicago hadn’t filled out the report completely. They hadn’t included your nickname. And because of the attack and your memory loss, we didn’t release any information about you. For your safety. You’re so vulnerable.”

Because she’d lost her mind.

“We really didn’t go looking for people to claim you. We felt it would have been better if your memory had returned on its own. Safer.”

Safety. An oxymoron. She’d never be safe once authorities set a killer free.

“Maybe we should have divulged more information. Maybe we should have looked for a husband.”

But she’d never suspected she’d been married. She’d even told him so—on several occasions. Even now she couldn’t accept that she’d been that wrong. Couldn’t accept that she belonged with Evan Quade.

Absently she lifted her hand to her neck but pulled it back when she remembered the necklace was gone. Just like the life she’d lived as Mrs. Quade. But that was the past and now she had to concentrate on the future. “He wants to help me. He’s trying to find the guy who broke into my van.”

Sullivan nodded. “He has more resources than the city does. He’s hired all the experts and I’m sure he will find him. Now getting the man to testify…”

“So he hasn’t found him yet?”

The D.A. shook his head.

She swallowed her disappointment that his lead hadn’t panned out. “There isn’t enough time. I have to leave.”

“You’re going with him?”

She shivered. “No. I can’t trust him. I still don’t remember him.”

Sullivan’s eyes widened. “What does it matter when he’s offering you protection, Amanda? He can protect you.”

“From Weering. But who will protect me from him?”

“He’s an honorable man. I checked him out. His brother-in-law is the Winter Falls sheriff.”

“Brother-in-law?” Why did that seem wrong to her? Could the past be as locked away in her mind as she believed?

“You think he’s lying? I called and spoke directly with the sheriff, who swears Quade’s who he says he is. Quade is something of a hero in that town, brought it financial prosperity. Not only would your husband protect you, but the local law enforcement would, too. You would be safe there.”

Physically. But once again, where her husband was concerned, her fear was of the emotional harm he could do her.

She glanced up to see the D.A. had turned toward his office again. A smile softened his lined face. “And Christopher would be safe there.”

Hearing his words left her no choice. Reluctantly she shoved her fingers into her pocket and fingered the card—her means of contacting a husband she couldn’t remember.

But she dialed other numbers while Mr. Sullivan and Christopher ate cookies in the hall. She double-checked the D.A.’s assessment, calling the sheriff he’d talked to as well as Evan’s office number. His secretary verified his identity.

Maybe she could trust him to protect her and her son from physical harm at a madman’s hands. But the only person who could protect her from emotional harm from her husband was herself, and she doubted she was strong enough. She doubted she had ever been strong enough to handle him, his powerful personality or the powerful feelings he inspired.

He’d said she ran away from him once. She must have had a reason to run. When the threat to her and her son’s life was gone, would she be able to leave him again?

Now that he knew about Christopher, would he let
her walk out of his life as she once had? Or would he fight her for his son?

Tension throbbed at the base of her skull as she accepted that only one person could answer her questions: her husband.

Chapter Four

Evan stared out over the river as he idly ran a diamond necklace through his fingers. “This makes sense.”

He gestured toward the murky water many floors below the hotel-suite window. The diamonds glittered in the late-afternoon sun and bounced back shards of light at Royce’s reflection in the glass.

“Hmm?” Royce didn’t glance up from the report cradled in his hand, but he leaned back in the chair at the small cherry-wood table.

“River City. City named for the river. I’ve lived in Winter Falls a couple of years now and I don’t know why it’s named that. Do you?”

“Must be a reason… I’ll ask Sarah tonight. And instead of wasting time reading these reports and transcripts, you should tell me what’s in here. We wasted enough time today chasing down that dead end. Martin ‘Snake’ Timmer hasn’t showed up at the warehouse for work in over a week.”

Evan dragged in a deep breath, refusing to let the frustration overtake him.

“Tracking his social-security number didn’t show
where he’s applied for another job, either,” Royce continued, anger sharpening his tone.

Someone had paid off the “witness.” Evan didn’t need confirmation of what he knew in his gut.

Royce sighed. “Damn it! So just tell me what’s in these reports. Finding something in here to link that bastard to other crimes might be the only way to keep him behind bars. You glanced at these, they’re permanently in your mind now.”

And that was the curse of Evan’s photographic memory. Those words from the trial had already become images in his head, images he wouldn’t forget as Amanda had.
As she’d forgotten him,
he thought to himself.

He concentrated on his breathing as he sought calmness, control. He should have broken his neck for what that bastard had done to her.

“He kept her in that trunk for hours, at least. Maybe a day or more…”

Royce tossed one file down and grabbed up another. “One of the shrinks says that she’s terrified of the dark. Can’t say I blame her.”

“She was so dehydrated, she should have been weak. Pliable. That’s what he was counting on…” Evan’s voice trailed off. But that wasn’t what the animal had gotten. She’d fought. For their child. When she’d awoken in the hospital days later, the one thing she hadn’t forgotten was her pregnancy.

Had she known when she’d left him? Had she known then that she’d carried his child? And if so, why had she left?

Because she hadn’t loved him, he realized. Hadn’t loved him enough to even remember him now…

Evan shook off the self-pity and said, “Let’s forget about what’s done already, Royce, and concentrate on now.” The diamond necklace gnawed at his fingers as he wrapped it around his knuckles. “You trust this security firm?”

Royce nodded, but his eyes narrowed and scrutinized.

Evan turned away from his too perceptive friend and focused on the river again. “They’ve been watching her?”

“Yeah, that’s how they knew she’d pawned the necklace this morning. And tomorrow when he’s released, they’ll be watching him. You have it all under control, Evan.”

Evan laughed, but no humor lifted the heaviness from his chest. “Control? I haven’t had that since I knocked on her door yesterday.”

“You’re doing everything you can—”

“Everything she’ll let me.” Despite her loss of memory, she was the same stubborn woman he’d been married to, was still married to.

Until death did them part, he’d vowed at their wedding. But since then he’d learned the truth about himself, about
what
he’d come from. After what she’d been through, how would the truth affect her?

Royce expelled a ragged sigh. “If only we’d gotten Timmer…”

“Snake slithered away from us.” Evan resisted the urge to smash his fist against the glass in an expression of the anger and frustration churning inside him.

“But at least we know who gave Amanda the warning. We need to track down where he moved to next. We can still find him in time. We have people
watching his daughter’s house to see if he shows up there.”

Evan groaned over Royce’s positive new attitude. Marital bliss had stolen some of the tough cynicism that Evan had first admired about the ex-FBI agent.

“You think his message was a warning?”

“Yeah, Sullivan wasn’t going to tell her the creep was getting out. He figured she’d freak and run off.”

“Exactly.”

“Ah…” The chair creaked as Royce jumped up and joined Evan at the window. “So you think Weering set this up? Probably paid his old buddy to warn Amanda, so she’d run.”

Evan nodded. “Control. He wants it over her. Fear. He thrives on that. He wants her scared and he wants to orchestrate her every move. And the bastard’s winning right now.”

Royce settled a hand on Evan’s shoulder, squeezing. “But he didn’t count on you.”

He closed his eyes, and an image of the half-blinded convict sneered in his mind. “I’m not so sure.”

“You mean because he knows things…”

“Things only people close to me know, Royce.” Things Evan wished he didn’t know himself. If only…

No, “if only” would have kept him from the family he loved. His sister, his sweet baby niece and the friends he had made when his adoptive parents had disowned him after Amanda’s disappearance, which they had considered too suspicious. They had even shared their concerns with the local police depart
ment. If the people who had raised him had thought he could harm her…

Royce rationalized, “We aren’t the only ones that know about your biological father. There’s a trail. There’s always a trail.”

He hoped Royce was right. “We have to find Weering’s.”

“We’re checking the files. If we can link him to other crimes… Damn, why wouldn’t they wait on releasing him?”

Evan curled his hands into fists. He had tried bribes, threats, but nothing had swayed the bureaucrats. “They’re trying to justify what they’ve done. They refuse to believe they’re releasing someone who hasn’t been fully rehabilitated.”

“And when he hurts someone? How are they gonna save face then?”

Evan’s knuckles turned white. “He
won’t
hurt Amanda…or the boy.”

The boy. His stomach pitched. His son. He had a son. Their one brief meeting played again and again in his head. The child with the dark eyes full of lively intelligence peering up at him…

His son.

But would the kid look up to him if he knew what only Evan’s friends and a soon-to-be released prisoner knew? If not for an act of violence Evan wouldn’t even exist. How would Amanda, a victim of violence, ever accept that her husband was a product of that? Accept he had a rapist’s blood running through his veins?

“You’re doing everything you can,” Royce said.

But Royce’s reassurance didn’t calm Evan’s fears.
“I can do more. I have to get through to her this time.”

He turned from the window, grabbing up his camel overcoat from the back of a chair before heading out. Full of fierce determination, he yanked open the door and nearly bowled over the small fragile woman and the little boy standing in the hall.

“Amanda?” Evan asked, shocked by her appearance at his hotel room.

“Did you find him yet?” she asked, her eyes full of tentative hope.

He didn’t need to ask of whom she spoke. Although he hated to dash that hope, nevertheless he shook his head. “No. It was a dead end. Bad lead.”