Authors: Nicole Andrews Moore
Brian leapt over the edge of the couch and grabbed the answering machine. He shook as he listened to the message.
I knew it!
He said over and over again. He tried to star sixty-nine the number without success. Reluctantly, he called the detectives he had been working with. Ten minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. He was about to pry himself from his leather couch when Jamie peeked her head in. Somehow, he managed a weak smile as he settled back into the couch. “I’m sorry,” he said apologetically as he watched her close the door behind her. She was carrying a take out bag. And it occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten. Even more, he realized he didn’t care. He just wanted the police to go get Sarah. Now. He couldn’t wait any longer.
Sarah’s absence had changed everyone. Jamie felt the need to step up to the plate, take some of the pressure off of Brian and look out for him as Sarah would have. She had noticed the last time they passed in the halls at the college that Brian had seemed thinner, his eyes were dull and dark circled. In short, he was a mess. And she couldn’t have Sarah seeing him that way. Jamie was convinced Sarah would return. It had been two months, this was true, but Sarah’s return was inevitable. And Brian would be taken care of in the mean time. She shuffled around the kitchen, searching for plates and silverware. Annoyed, she yelled, “You can help me out any time. Paper plates. Where are they?”
Smirking, Brian said quietly, “The cupboard to your right.” He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I know I look rough. I mean, I must if you are suddenly overwhelmed with maternal instincts and feel the need to come take care of me, right?”
Placing two plates on the coffee table between them, Jamie sat down. “I’m Sarah’s best friend,” she began sadly. “You are the man she loves. I can’t have you a mess when she comes back.” He raised his head and smiled some. “After all, you wouldn’t want her to question her own judgment. She may turn right around and go back wherever she has been.” She shrugged her shoulders.
Recognizing it as Jamie’s feeble attempt at a joke, he tried to respond with a smile, but couldn’t quite pull it off. He was rescued then as the police finally arrived, rescued from facing another meal that he couldn’t quite taste, and from entertaining Jamie. She was at the door, playing hostess, welcoming the detectives into the loft.
“So,” Detective Green began, “where is it?” He directed his attention to Brian and received a point in response. He turned and found the end table next to the sofa, walked deliberately over to the machine, and pressed the button. He listened to the same message that Brian had played repeatedly. “Who is Evan Winters?” Green asked lazily while flipping open his note pad and poising his pen over the blank sheet.
Sighing, Brian began with a distinct edge to his voice. “My former student.”
“
Your
student?” The detective questioned. “So, how did he know Dr. White?”
Brian was growing agitated. He knew that he must be coming off as a total jerk, but he couldn’t trouble himself with that concern. It seemed clear cut to him. He had a name. He had a city. The police should just go get her. But he could tell they weren’t going to. “He met Sarah when she was covering the first few days of my summer class. I was at my mother’s funeral in South Carolina. Evan took an instant liking to her, asked her out, pursued her shamelessly, and tried to gain her attention.” His mouth snapped shut as he finished relaying the condensed version of events.
The detectives exchanged a look. “Is it possible that she simply went off with this Winters, met him in Boston?”
Brian was ready to throttle them both. He wanted nothing more than to kick the bumbling idiots out of his loft so that he could just do their job and reclaim his wife. He inhaled sharply, surprised by his own realization. Sarah wasn’t his wife yet, but now he knew that once he had her back, he vowed to make it so. He opened his mouth to speak, but thankfully Jamie interceded.
“I think Brian has answered all your questions. He had been more than patient. Now answer one of ours. When are you going to go get her?” She stood with her arms folded across her chest, her eyes ablaze.
There was some hemming and hawing, something about having the tape checked, investigating the new lead, but no clear-cut response. As they moved to leave, they began unhooking his answering machine.
At that, Brian erupted. “Hey,” he growled and stood menacingly. “I may need that! I can’t be here twenty-four seven. What if that guy tries to contact me again?”
The detectives paused and exchanged looks. Brian tried to read their thoughts but found them both curiously empty. Finally Detective Green broke the silence. “Well, in the past we could have left you the machine and simply pocketed the tape…”
“Equally helpful, no doubt,” Brian interrupted sarcastically.
Detective Green continued, indifferent. “But now with these new fangled
machines…,” he shrugged, “we just have to take the whole thing.”
Brian blinked. Did the man really just say ‘new fangled?’ He had never heard anyone that young use that expression in earnest. Feeling defeated, he dropped back down on the sofa and covered his eyes with the crook of his arm.
“I’ll walk them out,” Jamie volunteered, her concern for Brian growing by the minute. She watched, but he made no sound, gave no indication at all that he had heard her. She motioned the detectives to the door. Once outside she felt compelled to explain.
“Sarah is his life,” she began quietly. Detective Green opened his mouth to speak, but Jamie silenced him with a raised hand, just as she might have done in a rowdy lab class. It had the same effect. “I’m sure you hear this all the time, but trust me when I say this is different.” She paused to take a breath. “They both waited forever for this relationship. Sarah had been through so much.” She looked Green directly in the eyes, “Well, I guess you met Josh.” He nodded.
“He hurt her in ways some people never recover from. I thought Sarah might just wither up and die. I thought she’d never trust again.” She sighed. “Or maybe that’s just what I would have done.” She stood quietly looking down at her feet for a moment.
“I highly doubt that,” Green said quietly. He liked her spunk.
Ignoring his comment, Jamie continued. “Somehow she finally allowed herself to love and be loved. She’s my inspiration.” Jamie swallowed some tears. “We all need her back. Please,” she whispered, “please bring her back to us.”
Unable to control her emotions anymore, Jamie’s eyes spilled over and she began to sniffle. The older detective snuck back to the car and pretended to busy himself with papers, or the radio, or both, anything to keep from dealing with an overwrought female.
Green, on the other hand, calmly reached inside his suit coat and pulled out a handkerchief. “Here,” he said gently and wiped away the tears, first on one side of her face, then the other. When he finished, he passed her the damp linen square and tapped his nose as a suggestion.
As Jamie took the proffered cloth and swabbed her nose, he noticed how beautiful she was. Ms. Stratford didn’t get the puffy red eyes and nose so many of the women he had comforted through the years did. No, she was gorgeous with her sexy short hair that emphasized her lovely neck. And when she gazed at him with her hazel eyes, the man in him noticed. Before he even had the chance to analyze what he was doing, the words “Would you like to meet for coffee?” somehow escaped his lips.
Tilting her head to the side, Jamie wondered for the briefest of moments if it was even appropriate before answering. “Sure,” she responded with a shrug. Then her eyes developed a wicked gleam. “We can meet for coffee, just as soon as you find Sarah.”
Groaning, Detective Green smirked. “I guess I walked right into that one.”
Evan had tried everything he could think of to show Sarah how much he loved her. He had loaded her room with beautiful comfort items. Her bathroom held replicas of every toiletry she had in that quaint little farmhouse she lived in. He had even added some of his own personal favorites. She had the best linens money could buy. He had tried talking to her on more than one occasion since their initial meeting to no avail. She seemed to believe she hated him.
No female had ever been able to resist his charms. Well, there was that one time. He grimaced and shook his head to rid it of the ugly thought.
Sarah
would different. He was going to have her. Once he seduced her and made her forget that other life,
things
would be different, better.
And so with the same attention to detail that had resulted in her unchallenged capture, Evan devoted himself to his latest conquest. This time he worked alone. He had become increasingly aware of how sentimental James was when it came to Sarah. The less the old man knew; the better.
Running out of patience, Evan stayed up late planning. He even did something he hadn’t done in two months; he turned off the monitors so that he wouldn’t be distracted. Somehow he felt the walls were closing in on him, he knew that he was running out of time. This was his last chance to wear her down, to truly make her his. And if she refused him…well, what other option did he have? He was too pretty for jail and he wasn’t sure he could count on his father to finance a vacation in a country that would fight his extradition. He shuddered for a moment. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a firm believer in self-preservation.
Glancing at the clock, Evan discovered it was nearly three in the morning. He stretched, set his alarm for six and prepared himself for a sleep that was merely a power nap.
Tomorrow,
he thought to himself.
Sarah was startled awake. She had heard it in her mind.
Tomorrow.
What was so special about the morning? She knew if Evan was happy, it could mean terrible things for her. She took a mental inventory of her resources, found she had few, and returned to a fitful sleep, her hand clasped around her neck where the amulet Brian gave her should have been.