She opened the door wider, trying to catch his conversation.
“I found her,” Jake said. “Yeah, she colored her hair, but she couldn’t get rid of those curls—those damn curls. There’s no mistake.” He paused for a moment. “The police have been searching for Caitlyn in the canyon where the accident occurred. What I need you to do is go there and check it out for me.” He listened to the reply and then said, “She claims she doesn’t remember anything. I’m going to check with Sarah’s doctor. I’ll get back to you when I know what I’m going to do about her.”
Sarah shut the door, her pulse racing. Whom had Jake been talking to? And more important, what was he planning to do about her?
* * *
Jake sat down in a chair in the hospital corridor and leaned his head against the wall. The last time he’d been in a hospital was when Caitlyn was born—one of the happiest days of his life. That moment seemed like a lifetime ago.
Closing his eyes, he took a long, deep breath. He’d found Sarah, and the moment he’d anticipated for seven long months had not been at all what he’d expected. He’d prepared himself for a showdown, a battle for Caitlyn. He’d never once considered that he would find Sarah and she wouldn’t be with Caitlyn. Where on earth had Sarah hidden their daughter?
He wanted to shake the answers out of her. He’d never felt such violence or anger toward a woman. Sarah had ruined him. And it appeared that she’d ruined herself too. She’d lost at least ten or fifteen pounds. She’d never been heavy, but now she was so thin she looked fragile, breakable. Her beautiful blond hair was a lifeless brown, her eyes filled with shadows, her demeanor nervous and wary.
Where was the woman he’d fallen in love with?
She was nowhere. She didn’t exist, he reminded himself. The woman he’d lived with was a liar and a thief. He couldn’t forget that. He couldn’t let her get under his skin again. He had one goal now, and that was to find Caitlyn. Sarah was only going to be a means to that end, nothing more. He would stay with her until he had his daughter. He couldn’t take the chance that she would run again.
Still, it took all the strength he had not to walk out of the hospital and join in the search for his child. But the police were doing their job, and Dylan was on his way to the accident scene. It was smarter for him to stay here and keep the pressure on Sarah.
So far Sarah had played the amnesia card exactly right. Her eyes had never once revealed any spark of recognition for him. Was she that good an actress? Could she really hide the truth so completely? Or was she truly without any memory whatsoever? It seemed impossible to believe that she could forget everything that had happened between them. She was probably faking it.
Opening his eyes, he glanced around the corridor and saw a young woman watching him. She had dark hair and eyes, and there was a pinched look about her white face, worry in her expression. When she realized she’d been caught staring, she gave him a nervous smile. “It’s hard to wait,” she said. “I hate hospitals. They’re so depressing.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he muttered shortly. He didn’t feel like making conversation with a stranger. Fortunately they were interrupted. Jake got to his feet as a tall, gray-haired man paused in front of him.
“Mr. Sanders?” he queried.
“Yes, are you Sarah’s doctor?”
“I believe so, if we’re speaking about the woman in four-oh-seven with amnesia resulting from a car accident.”
“That’s right. Her name is Sarah Tucker. I’d like to find out more about her condition. What can you tell me?”
Dr. Carmichael stepped aside as someone pushed a food cart down the hallway. He waved Jake into a nearby waiting room. “Why don’t we speak in private?”
Jake cast a quick look down the hall. Sarah’s door was closed. While he didn’t trust her to stay put, he knew she was too weak to go far. Even if she ran, he would find her.
* * *
”I want the girl,” the man said.
Sarah’s heart stopped as she saw the man pull a gun out of his jacket pocket and take aim. His hand was calm; not a single tremor shook his fingers. She gazed at his wrist, mesmerized by the tattoo of a tiger. She’d seen that tattoo before. Where?
The gun suddenly exploded, and a rocketing blast reverberated through her body, ringing her ears, almost knocking her off her feet. She put a hand over her mouth, muffling her scream of shock and terror.
She couldn’t believe what had happened. He’d done it. He’d actually pulled the trigger. Bright red blood streamed across the tile floor. God, how could anyone bleed so much and stay alive?