Second Chances (124 page)

The tears were streaming unnoticed down her face now.  Her nose was beginning to run, so she sniffled constantly.  This was her life, the life she missed so desperately.  This was her family.  She ached to be loved and held by Brian again.  She longed for him to be a part of her once more.  She was dying to tell him about his baby.  And then there was Chloe.

Her daughter had been two months without her.  In all those years since Chloe’s birth she had scarcely let her out of her sight, and now she had been without Chloe for two whole months.  Her heart ached just to think of it.  How might her innocent child have changed in that period of time?  What if she was irreparably damaged from this?  How many ouchies had she suffered without her mother to kiss them better?  Who had helped Chloe prepare for school in her mother’s stead? 

Her head was reeling.  Her insides felt as though they were being wrenched out of her.  And Sarah knew she was about to be violently ill.  She raced to the toilet, clumsily lifted the seat, and lost the contents of her stomach to the commode.  Evan couldn’t have done more to show her who he was than he did in that moment.  He sat on the bed with a triumphant look on his face and waited for her to brush her teeth and return to bed.

“You need some rest,” he said as he tried to tuck her in.

Exerting every last bit of self-control, Sarah asked evenly, “Why did you show me that?”  She was spent.  Her nerves were raw.  She had been forced to once again face what she was missing.  And she knew that Evan was plotting. This was, without a doubt, supposed to distract her.  She couldn’t allow that, but she would take a moment to rest.  Slowly her eyes closed as she heard his response.

“I thought you might like to see them,” he said innocently.

But she also heard what he wasn’t saying.  Overconfident, bordering on cocky, he had let his guard down. 
This is too easy,
he laughed.
  She’ll be mine by lunch time.  Time to review the checklist. 
He left her then, reminding her that he would check on her shortly. 

Sarah waited until the door closed and she heard his steps receding down the hall.  She stood up and moved to take a quick shower when she heard the door open again.  Peeking out from the bathroom, wearing only her bathrobe, Sarah was relieved to find James preparing to empty out her dresser drawers.  His brow was furrowed, his shoulders stooped.

Immediately, her relief turned to concern.  “What’s wrong, James?” She asked in a whisper.  Moving from the doorway, she squatted near him so that he had to meet her face.  Slowly his eyes settled on hers.

“Something is going on, Miss Sarah,” he murmured.  “Master Evan doesn’t trust me enough to share it with me, but I can tell.”  He swallowed sadly.

“How do you know?”  Sarah asked then realized that she needed to clarify her question.  “It isn’t that I doubt you,” she continued, “I just thought that maybe if you shared what you knew, we might be able to reason it out together.”  She rubbed his forearm in a reassuring manner.

“Of course, miss,” he said.  He took a deep breath before he spoke.  “The staff is distracted today.” He saw her tilt her head questioningly.  “The cook has been sent to market, a task that could take hours as the ingredients are rather…specific and unusual.”

Sarah nodded.  “Okay…”

“Then there are the maids.”  He looked at her intently.

“I’ve never heard about any maids,” she said slowly.

“They’ve been given time off.”  He suddenly remembered the cameras and began to pack up the clothes in a hurried fashion.  “They are never given time off during the day.”  He shut the first drawer and turned his attention to the next one.  “The gardeners are working far from the house today.  And,” he swallowed harshly, “not only does Master Evan’s father not know you are here, but he is out of town on business for the rest of the week.”  He sighed as he finished unloading the last drawer.  “Oh, and once I’m done with this task, I’m to go shopping for a new wardrobe for you.  I should be gone until dinner.”

Standing abruptly, Sarah narrowed her eyes.  She was to be left alone in the house with him.  Sarah thought about the movie he had shown her and the removal of all her clothing.  She was to be made weak and vulnerable and exposed.  Clearly Evan was planning on having his way with her.  She squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply.  “I see,” she said.  “Well, I’d better get ready.”  She patted James on the shoulder.  “I’ll be fine.”  And instinctively, she touched her abdomen in a protective manner.

At ten in the morning, Brian’s plane touched down in Boston.  He emerged from the plane and headed immediately to the curb to find a taxi, grateful that he only had a carry-on.  Within minutes he was speeding toward the address that accompanied the phone he had called earlier.  He paid the driver for the first part of his trip, urged him to keep the meter running, and promised to be back as soon as possible.  The driver smiled and nodded, no doubt mentally calculating his potential earnings and told him very happily to take his time.

Unfortunately, time was something Brian had very little of.  He raced up the stairs and knocked on the door to the A-1 Detective Agency even while entering the office.  The man behind the desk glanced up and fingered the toothpick he had sticking out of his mouth.  “Are you Waite?”  The man asked, studying him.

“Yes,” Brian said breathlessly.  He had taken the stairs by twos for all three flights. 
Sarah was right,
he thought grimly,
I should have taken up jogging months ago.
  His breathing less ragged, he managed to ask the only question he cared about.  “Did you find the information I requested?”

The detective put a hand over the folder in front of him and kept it there; as if he were afraid Brian would grab it and run.  “I did,” he said slowly.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Brian said agitatedly.  “I really just need the address I requested and I’ll be on my way.”  He reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and hand the man some bills.

The detective shook his head.  “Why do you need this information?”

Pausing, Brian felt his concern.  “I’m not some run of the mill crazy,” he said in a controlled voice.  “I’m sure you’ve discovered that the Winters are a wealthy family, own a large estate, are captains of industry, and upstanding citizens.”  He watched the detective for a reaction, but outwardly, nothing was given away.  “That may be true for the father, but Evan, the son, abducted my fiancé.”

The detective leaned back in his seat and seemed to ponder that a moment before speaking.  “How do you know that he has her?”

Brian sighed.  He had no idea it was so hard to find good help.  “I’ve been through this with the police.”  He scowled.  “She’s been held against her will since August.”  He saw the detective’s eyebrows arch.  “Yes.  August.”  He sighed.  “And I just want to get her back.  She had essentially disappeared from the face of the earth until I had a tip from an anonymous caller last night who said that she was being held in Brookline, by Evan Winters.”

“And you flew here right away?  Without going to the police?”  The detective stared at him.

Brian gripped his head in his hands.  He was a man of action, mired in the muck of lethargy when it came to those in authority.  “I can’t do this.  Please let me pay you for the information.  I have to get to Sarah.”

The detective pulled the file onto his lap and reclined in his chair.  Brian’s shoulders slumped.  “Maybe you had better start from the beginning.”

Brian sighed.  If he walked away now, he would have to find another detective and possibly even go through the same rigmarole to get the information that was a mere three feet away.  He nodded and opened his mouth, wondering where to begin.

“Sarah and I are professors at UVM,” he began quietly.  “And Evan Winters was my student.”  The story was revealed quickly after that.  Brian spoke from the heart; spoke of his concern for her safety, his struggle to remain positive, and his effort to locate her.  And finally he revealed his belief in her condition, hoping that even if the detective wasn’t swayed by his tale, the man within might be.  Slowly, Brian could feel he was getting to him.

“Let’s start over,” the detective said quietly holding out his hand.  “The name’s Sam, Sam Shepherd.” 

“Brian Waite.”

They gripped and shook before settling back into business.  “So, you believe he has been conspiring not just to keep you apart, but the have her all to himself?”  Sam’s brows were furrowed as he spoke.

“I’m sure it sounds paranoid,” Brian began quickly, prepared to explain away any lingering doubts.

Instead, he was interrupted.  “It might seem that way to some.”  Sam scratched at his chin and pondered how much to share.  With a sigh, he opened his top left desk drawer and pulled out a stack of files.  He flipped through them and finally paused about the third one in.  Removing it from the stack, he replaced the others in the drawer and closed it determinedly.  “You see that?”  He asked, gesturing to the drawer.

“Yes,” Brian answered, wondering where this was leading.

“Those are my unsolved cases.  I’ve been in business a long time,” Sam said slowly and paused.

“That’s not bad,” he commented, knowing that if he were patient long enough, there would be a pay off.  He could feel it.

The detective nodded solemnly.  “I take pride in my work.”  He flipped open the folder and pulled out a picture.  After staring at it for a moment, he passed it to Brian who took it and studied the young woman who was the subject of the photograph.  She was tall and thin with long black hair, pale skin, and vibrant green eyes.  For all practical purposes, she could have been a younger version of Sarah.  His eyes widened and he met Sam’s gaze once more.

Before he could speak, the detective continued.  “Some cases just stick with me, you know.”  Brian nodded silently and swallowed hard.  “Her name is Sabrina.  Her parents had picked another name for her before she was born, but they say that once they saw her they were so bewitched that Sabrina seemed a more appropriate name.”  Brian’s mouth was completely dry.  “She grew up here in Brookline, product of an affluent family, attended private schools, and finally Harvard.”  Sam rubbed his neck. 

“The picture is from her freshman year.  Her entire life was ahead of her, bright and beautiful, a lethal combination.  Apparently a number of young men found her bewitching as well.  She finally accepted the attention of one in particular.  This young man was incredibly handsome and attentive.  He lavished gifts on her, took her to fancy restaurants, that kind of thing.  Yet Sabrina eventually decided to end the relationship.  She later began dating another young man.”  He pulled another photograph from the folder and scowled.

“The ex didn’t take rejection well.  And now she looks like this.”  He passed the new picture to Brian, who inhaled sharply at this new portrait.

Gone was the smiling carefree fresh-faced teen.  In her place was a grotesquely scarred young woman who hid behind scarves and sunglasses.  Merely looking at her, Brian was filled with pain.  He licked his lips before speaking.  “What happened?  Who did this to her?”  Even as he asked the questions, he was certain he already knew the answer to the second one. 

“She was in the pre-med program,” Sam began seriously.  “Those kind are a determined bunch, begin working late long before they get the degree.”  He frowned.  “The way I understand it, Sabrina was working on a chemistry lab, alone, late one evening.  Her lab partner had suddenly taken ill and Sabrina was determined not to allow that to affect her grade.  Well, security found her when they went to lock up at ten that night.  Acid had been thrown in her face.  She tried to make it to the eye wash station, but collapsed before she could reach it.  She’s completely blind in her right eye, and that side of her face is horribly disfigured.”