A Question of Honor (16 page)

Merry Christmas.

Faith.

He dropped it onto the desk. “Have you seen Dent?”

She looked at him, thankfully not asking him any questions he didn’t want to answer. “Saw him about half an hour ago on his way to a customer who had a flat tire. His wife was holding down the fort at the garage.”

He called and spoke with Dent’s wife, confirming what Mallory had told him. She didn’t know which way Faith was headed. The only other person he could think of was Oscar. If anyone had seen Faith leave, it would be him. Adam ignored the truck and jogged over to the general store. Oscar was locking up, but true to form, he knew everything about everyone. He’d seen Faith leave about twenty minutes earlier, and she’d been going west out of town. Adam checked the clock. Depending how she was driving, she had a decent head start on him.

He ran back to his truck, climbed in, revved it up and turned out onto the street to head west. Since there were only two ways out of town to the west and one headed to the res, she had to be on the state route that cut west, then north and up into Colorado eventually. He drove as quickly as he could, hoping the snow would stop, but the farther he went, the less that seemed likely to happen. Thick, wet flakes made it hard to see the road. Only faint impressions of anyone else were visible. He slowed more and more as the weather deteriorated.

Hindsight being twenty-twenty, he wished he’d just told Faith what he knew about her and let things fall where they may. But he couldn’t have. Not until he’d cleared up a lot with the attorney, and now he was free to tell her everything. Ironically, she was gone, and for all he knew, she wouldn’t ever return. His windshield wipers were laboring to keep the glass clear, and on the curves he slowed to a crawl.

Why hadn’t he just told her that he cared about her? Why hadn’t he begged her to stay? Better yet, he thought, why hadn’t he simply told her the truth? He’d been so focused on her being truthful with him, but he’d done his share of lying to her, small things, but important things.

He pulled over when he lost sight of the road on a curve. The snow let up gradually and he pushed through and came out onto a relatively straight stretch of road that climbed higher. He barely stopped himself from standing on the brake.

A car that looked like the one Faith had been driving was twenty feet ahead, nose down in a ditch. He could see the impression under the new snow where the tires had fought for traction, then sailed out of control. A fear he’d never known he was capable of feeling tore at him as he jumped out of the idling truck and made his way through the drifting snow to get to the disabled car.

He half slid into the ditch, hit the driver’s door with the soles of his boots, barely avoiding putting his foot through the window, and he came to a jarring stop. The windows were iced and foggy, and Adam reached to grab the door handle to leverage himself up to his feet, where he immediately started to sink up to his knees in the snow. He got his balance finally, pulled the handle with a vicious jerk and heard it click and give. He grabbed the frame and forced the door back halfway. He had enough room to look inside.

It was empty and he stood back, looking frantically around, not seeing anything but snow and ice-laden pines. Bracing himself on the driver’s seat, he could see something on the floor of the passenger side. He pushed farther in, awkwardly reaching down to touch the smooth finish of the tiny turquoise teardrop.

Closing his hand over it, he hoisted himself out of the car. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt panic drive him, but it did now. He looked down at the stone in his hand as snow fell on it and he slowly curled his fingers around it. He turned and screamed for Faith at the top of his lungs.

He waited, willing a response that never came. He twisted around, getting his balance, then climbed hand over hand up the sharp incline of the ditch. He made it to the road and almost slipped more than once as he hurried to his truck. He finally made it, reached into the truck to get his cell phone and punched in 911.

“Nine one one. What is the emergency you’re reporting?” a female voice asked.

He quickly told her about the car going off the road, and she cut him off. “Yes, that has been reported, sir.”

He forced himself to keep calm and remain in control. “What was reported?”

“Sir, I can’t give that information out to you.”

Adam didn’t hesitate. “I’m a cop with the Dallas P.D. I used to be a cop in Wolf Lake. There’s been an accident and I need some information. Now, what was reported?”

“A single car went off the road at marker 27. It was found by a patrol car out of the Pine Cross substation about half an hour ago. Went out of control on a curve and was disabled.”

“What about the driver?” he asked, literally holding his breath until the operator spoke again.

“A female was found and taken to Pine Cross.”

He braced himself. “Any injuries reported?”

“No, none on the report. They took the lady to the substation in the town, then got her to the This Is It Motel. They got a tow truck ordered to retrieve the vehicle, but with this weather, it’s going to be a while.”

“Do you have a name for the driver?”

“Yes, sir, Faith Arden.”

He exhaled a breath and closed his eyes for a second before asking for directions to the substation in Pine Cross. When he hung up, he let himself breathe, and then he climbed into the truck, swiped at the snow clinging to the leather at his shoulders. He put the truck in gear and drove toward Pine Cross. Faith was all right. She wasn’t hurt.

His relief was monumental, and in that moment, he understood just a fraction of the fear and loss Jack must have felt the night Robyn had been taken from him. Adam never wanted to feel that way again. Never.

* * *

F
AITH
SAT
ALONE
in a beige-on-beige room, stuck in Pine Cross, waiting for another mechanic to tell her when or if her car could be driven again. Cursing the stupid car did no good, and tears weren’t there for her. Her eyes were dry, and she felt almost numb. She’d known Christmas would be lost to her this year, and she’d been right. Christmas Eve was even worse. In this room, with a prepackaged cheese sandwich and warm cola to celebrate, she stared at the TV that didn’t seem to have sound. Just as well, because she’d watched this particular movie at least a dozen times.
It’s a Wonderful Life.
She almost laughed, but no sound came from her, either.

She clicked off the TV, pushed the sandwich away and vowed to get through this. She’d find a way, another town, another place, and make very sure she kept to herself.

When a knock at the door overrode the whistling wind outside, she assumed it was the clerk bringing her a list of car-rental places that served this area. He’d promised to find it for her when she’d checked in. She got up to pad in her stockinged feet to the door and called out, “Who’s there?”

“Me,” a voice she knew all too well responded.

“No, no,” she whispered.
He can’t be here.

A heavy knock sounded on the flimsy door. “Faith, please, open up.”

She offered up a silent prayer to help her handle this well. When she opened the door, Adam stood there, the snow falling heavily behind him. His hair was touched by the whiteness, the Stetson nowhere in sight, and more snow covered his shoulders. His dark eyes stared at her, and he didn’t say a word for what seemed like forever. Then without warning, he stepped toward her and pulled her into his arms in a fierce hug.

Even though he brought wetness and cold with him, Faith thought that hug from Adam was the most precious thing anyone had given her. She closed her eyes, pressed her cheek to his chest and let him hold her. He must have hooked the door with his boot, because it flew shut, and they were in the silence of the room.

He’d followed her, and she hated him for it. No, she loved him for it, but she hated him doing it. She couldn’t let him be here. She couldn’t. She pushed back and away from his embrace. “Leave,” she said, her voice unsteady and less than convincing.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please, please, just go,” she said, desperate to have him gone.

He quietly came to her, hunkering down, but he didn’t touch her. “Faith, listen to me and believe what I’m saying to you.” There was gentleness in his voice that was almost her undoing.

She couldn’t deal with that. What she wanted was to be alone, but more than that, for Adam to be safe and not involved in the damage from her life. That was all she’d ever wanted since she’d known what she felt for him. But he shattered that hope.

“I can’t go anywhere until we talk honestly. You owe me that.”

She closed her eyes and clasped her hands tightly together. “Adam, please don’t do this.”

She sensed movement and opened her eyes to see him moving away from her. Yes, she was glad that he was going, but at the same time it also hurt her. Then he shattered her thinking by grabbing the desk chair and spinning it around so the back was facing Faith. He straddled the seat and rested his chin on his crossed arms. His dark eyes never left her face.

“There’s nothing to say.” The words almost choked her.

“Okay, you don’t have to talk, but I do.”

He started speaking in a low voice, his eyes narrowing as if he was having trouble saying what he seemed bent on telling her. “I came after you when I found you’d left Mallory’s. Oscar saw you leave, told me the direction and I headed out. When I found your car...” He sat straighter and stared at his hands. “I...I thought you were dead or dying.”

She saw his expression change to heartache. “I have never been so scared in my life.” His voice became hoarse. “Never. Not even on the job. Never.” His eyes found hers again, and she almost flinched at the intensity in the darkness. “I could face down anything, but I couldn’t face the possibility that you were gone. Really gone.”

“I...I had to leave,” she muttered. “I had to.”

His eyes narrowed even more, and she felt as if he could barely endure looking at her. “No, you chose to.” He exhaled in a rush. “You ran because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me why Faith Sizemore was hiding in Wolf Lake....”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

F
AITH
STARED
AT
A
DAM
,
stunned. “You know...you know.”

He didn’t respond, just kept watching her and she felt as if she were suffocating. She moved, bumping her knee against his knee as she stood. The pain shot up her leg, and she jerked sideways, away from Adam.

What was she going to do? Run out into the night with no jacket, no luggage, no wallet?

Her nightmare had come true. Adam knew who she was; there would be no more running. Everything was over.

She had to force herself to look at him, and when she did she admitted that he had to hear the truth.

She moved awkwardly, her knee still stinging. At the window, she pushed the worn drapes aside. The storm was still raging. She kept her back to the room and Adam. She couldn’t do this while looking at him, seeing the repulsion that would surely surface on his face.

He had been worried she’d died, but he had no idea how close she was to dying inside at that moment.

She sneaked one glance at Adam, but it did her in. She slid slowly down, her back brushing the wall, until she ended up sitting on the floor. She hugged her arms around her legs when she drew them to her chest and stared at the faded carpet. “What do you know exactly?”

He didn’t speak, and she had to look up again. He was by the bed, slipping off his damp jacket, tossing it on the abandoned chair. “Why don’t you just tell me the truth? That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you instead of the lies.”

She pressed her forehead to her knees and fought for control. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again. Not now.

What Adam wanted was the one thing she feared the most. But she finally managed to force out words whose power to hurt and destroy increased as she spoke them aloud.

“I left Chicago twenty-four days ago. My father, he’s all I’ve ever had, and I would do anything for him.” Closing her eyes, she kept talking. “And I have, I am. I left Chicago because the grand jury was being seated to get indictments against my father.” She grimaced and continued, the charges against her father burned into her memory. “They were expected to ask for indictments for securities fraud, investment-adviser fraud, wire fraud and international money laundering.

“The grand jury is hearing testimony right now, as far as I know. An indictment is almost inevitable. The prosecutor was going to subpoena me to testify because I worked at the firm. Daughter of a partner.” She shrugged weakly. “I couldn’t do that to Dad. So I took off, changed my name and left—”

“So you ran and figured if you kept moving, the Feds couldn’t find you, at least not soon enough for grand-jury testimony and probably not for actual trial testimony.”

Adam had sat down beside her. “I thought I could make it work,” she admitted, “and I’d never have to testify.”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “What do you know that’s so damning for your dad, or did you leave just in case something you didn’t know about came up and they nailed you?”

She shook her head. “I just didn’t want to hurt Dad.”

“Of course not, but you could have stayed and testified and left the prosecutor holding the bag when it turned out you didn’t know anything.”

“I couldn’t do it.” She wouldn’t tell anyone about what she knew. Not even this man, whom she could finally acknowledge she loved with all her heart. “I just didn’t ever expect to find a place like Wolf Lake and people who didn’t know how to stay away or how to not help someone in need.”

He smiled. “Even Willie G. was worried about you getting your rest and told me to take good care of you.” He saw her surprise, but didn’t say anything about it. “So you landed right in the middle of a gang of people who didn’t understand the concept of keeping out of their neighbor’s business.” He tapped her knee with his forefinger. “I have to tell you, you can’t do anything about them wanting to help or being involved in your life. Wolf Lake isn’t a place where you can blend in and stay low.”

She swiped at his finger to break the contact, then stumbled to her feet. She sat on the edge of the mattress. “You don’t know the half of it. When I lost my wallet, I thought if you found it and looked inside, being a cop, you’d turn me in as soon as possible.” She paused and looked at him. “Is that how you found out who I am? You went through my wallet and pretended to find it by accident?”

“No, I’m not that good an actor,” he said. “I’m just a cop who does the grunt work. Actually, it was knowing your birth date and that you were probably from Illinois that helped me. Enough to get me going anyway.”

She shook her head. She’d never even thought about her birthday. One of the best days she’d had and it had led to this. “Yes, you’re a cop,” she murmured.

“Yep, sworn to uphold the law,” he muttered, coming across to the bed.

“Exactly. You’ve got a job to do, and you’ll do it. I know that.”

“So what scenario is the right one about what’s going on with you?” he asked her, and she drew a blank.

“Just what you said, me running away, getting out of Chicago and staying away as long as I could before they’d find me.”

“I know that. It’s what I would have done if I couldn’t be there. But I’m talking about the reason behind you not being able to stay. What are you hiding? What do you know that you don’t want to give to the prosecution?”

She’d said enough, and anything she said, he’d repeat to the prosecutors sooner or later. He’d have to. “Nothing.”

He paced back and forth for a moment, then came back to where she sat. He was close enough for her to feel his strength, his warmth. “Faith, yes, you can. I’ll tell you why. I talked to Baron Little.”

“What?” she gasped. “How? But he couldn’t talk to you.”

“Oh, he didn’t tell me much of anything, but he listened while I explained my situation, and he gave me some suggestions about what to do.”

“How did you find him?”

“His name was in some of the online coverage of the arrests. I got his direct number and he agreed to hear me out. That’s why I didn’t get to the inn before you left.” He gave her a glance, then said in a low voice, “I thought you’d wait.”

“What do you want?” she asked.

“All I’ve wanted from the first is for you to trust me enough to tell me the truth. Then I realized what you were thinking. I’m a cop, sworn to do my duty, and that would mean turning you in if I knew where you were and why you were there.”

She started to shake and couldn’t stop. “I wanted to tell you, I really did, but I couldn’t.” She felt as if she were drowning and couldn’t even reach for safety. “I’m not good at this fugitive thing, or lying.”

“No, you’re not. You’re too easy to read, and you have the worst possible thing for a fugitive to have—a conscience.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“Hey, in my mind, those traits are good, but for survival, you need more deviousness.”

She thought he was making fun of her, but there was no smile on his face. “Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

“To get you.”

“Are the Feds on their way for me? Did you tell them everything?”

“No one’s on the way. It’s Christmas Eve and only an idiot would be out in this weather.” He pointed to her, then back at himself. “Make that two idiots.”

She’d been an idiot to think she could have escaped merely by leaving Wolf Lake. “You really need to go, get back to your place and forget all about this, everything.”

“And what about you?” he asked.

The room suddenly felt colder to her. “One way or the other, I’ll just go until I can stop.”

“You know,” he said, not showing any signs of leaving, “when I found that car, I understood a bit about what Jack went through when Robyn had her accident. I mean, you’re here with me now, but that fear was debilitating, thinking something awful had happened to you.”

She looked at him, and he was hunched forward, his head down. She touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I had to leave.” Tears were there, so close to falling. “I knew if you found out, you could lose your job if you didn’t let the authorities know, or you could lose your freedom. I couldn’t let that happen to you, not to you, never.” She moved closer to him, her hand slipping down his arm until she was touching his hand. She didn’t care that the tears were very real now, sliding down her cheeks. “Do you understand?” she choked out. “Please tell me you do.”

“Yes, I do.” His hand turned in hers and his fingers twined with hers, anchoring her for that moment in time. “I really do.” He glanced at her, his eyes touched by pain, and it made her heart ache.

“I know you need to take care of this, call someone, report me, whatever, but would you at least give me a head start?”

“Oh, Faith,” he said, pulling her to him, gathering her to his chest.

“Just give me a chance,” she sobbed, balling his shirt in her hands.

“Please, please, tell me the truth,” he said barely above a whisper.

* * *

A
DAM
FELT
F
AITH
break their embrace and he let her go, but she didn’t get up and move away from him. She stared into his face, tears still clinging to her lashes, and she touched a finger to his jawline, tracing it. “Making memories,” she said, then seemed to stiffen as she wiped her eyes. “Okay, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He’d wanted her to trust him, but now she just looked defeated. He hated it.

Staring down at the floor, she told him slowly about hearing her father and his partners six months before the raid, talking about taking care of the account and the client. How her dad was going to fix things.

She looked exhausted when she finished and Adam felt it, too. He touched her cheek, smoothing back the curls that clung to her damp skin as he asked, “Did you ask him about what you heard?”

“No, I couldn’t.”

He understood why. “Afraid he’d lie to you, or afraid you’d heard it right?”

She closed her eyes, and he felt her tremble where his fingertips lingered on her cheek. “He’d never lie to me,” she said.

“So you think you heard it right, that your assumption was correct?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied and reached for his hand, holding it tightly to her as she kept speaking. She told him about her file searches and what she’d found. “It’s the truth. And it’s horrible.”

“So your dad is either a dupe and his partners used him to cover up for them, or he did what you think he did, and you won’t toss him under the bus?”

“You really are a cop, aren’t you?” she muttered.

“No, I’m not.”

Those blue eyes turned to him, but her hold never faltered. “What?”

“I’m not a cop. I resigned, effective the day John stopped you for speeding. I didn’t know anything about you then, not even your real name, which,” he said, “makes me just a citizen with no obligation to do anything about the mess Faith Marie Sizemore got herself into.”

A frown tugged fine lines between her eyes, and when she started to pull her hand free, he held on to her for dear life. “Is this some slick interrogation method to get me to spill even more of my guts than I already have?”

“I quit the force. I told you I was going to make changes, and this is one of them.”

“So you’re not a cop anymore?”

“Not for the moment. I’ve been thinking of talking to John about sticking around Wolf Lake for a while, though.”

“You mean that?”

“I’m not lying. And I don’t and won’t lie to you about anything...ever.”

She exhaled, her hand staying in his. “And are you going to tell everyone in Wolf Lake who I am and what I’ve done?”

“No, that’s up to you, if or when you decide you want to.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet. With inches separating them, he shifted to lay both hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for telling me the truth,” he said. “That means a lot to me. But I have one more question.”

She took a shaky breath. “What’s that?”

This was it. Everything was on the table now. “Why didn’t you ask me why I said I finally understood something about how Jack felt when he lost Robyn?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought you were mad at me for taking off, and when you thought there had been trouble, you...”

“Ask me now,” he said evenly.

She shook her head. “It’s not important.”

It was life-and-death for him. “Oh, yes, it is. Ask me.”

“Okay, what was that all about?”

He didn’t realize that there were other fears in him. Now he was fearful that he’d been wrong about everything, that he’d jumped to his own conclusions. But he couldn’t stop now. “Because I thought I’d lost you forever, and I knew, right then, if I had lost you, I wasn’t sure that I could keep going.”

Her blue eyes filled with tears again as she asked, “Why?”

“Because I love you,” he said, startled at how easy it was to say words he’d avoided all his life.

Faith raised a hand, its touch soft on his cheek and as unsteady as he felt inside. “If things were different, if I wasn’t who I am, if...” Her words faded and she drew back her hand.

“No, I love you, and it’s that simple. It can be that simple, and it is that simple.”

“But what about all that mess in Chicago?”

“What about it?” he asked.

“You can’t get pulled into that, no matter what.”

“No, I can’t, but I can walk into it and help you. I told you I’ve talked to Baron, and—”

“But he doesn’t know what I heard.”

“Seems he’s the best there is. You should go back. Be totally honest with him, tell him everything.”

“No, I can’t.”

He reached up to cup her chin gently. “Trust me. It’s the smartest move on your part to do that as soon as possible.”

When she hesitated, he worried he’d gotten everything wrong, but when she spoke, the worry faded. “Yes, I can do that, and I do trust you. It’s just scary to think of doing the very thing I’ve been running away from.”

“I know it’s scary, but I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he said. “I will never let you down, never.”

He saw that moment in her eyes when she made her decision, and thankfully, it was the one he’d hoped for. Looking right at him, Faith said, “I love you, too. And I promise I’ll never lie to you again.”