Sanders 01 - Silent Run (5 page)

“Well, if you find the pain gets worse and you can't sleep, call me.” The nurse glanced over at Jake. “Maybe you should let her get some rest."

Jake frowned but reluctantly nodded. “All right, but I want to talk to her doctor."

“I'll let Dr. Carmichael know you wish to speak to him,” the nurse replied. She moved over to the window and drew the curtains, then flipped off the overhead light as she left, leaving the room in shadows, only a small stream of light coming from the part in the curtains.

Jake moved slowly toward the door. He paused, giving Sarah a long, speculative look. “I'll be right outside. Don't even think of leaving here without me."

* * *

Alone in the dark room, Sarah felt another wave of fear wash over her. Why couldn't she remember anything about her life? She could feel the love for her child deep in her soul, but the only image she had of Caitlyn was the child in the photograph. And Jake -- she didn't remember him at all. Why wouldn't she recall a man with whom she'd been intimate, the father of her child? At the very least, why couldn't she feel the same love for Jake that she felt for Caitlyn? Had she loved him? Or was that just what he wanted her to believe?

Picking up the photograph of the two of them together at the carnival, she saw again the smile on her lips, the sparkle in her eyes. The emotion didn't appear forced or fake. Jake looked happy, too. There was certainly no love in his eyes now. He hated her.

Jake claimed that she'd lied about everything in her past. If she'd done that, she must have had something to hide. There must have been a logical explanation for why she'd left him and taken their child, and more reasons for why she'd been driving a car that didn't belong to her in an area of California in which she didn't appear to live. But what were those reasons?

It was no wonder everyone looked at her with suspicion. She was suspicious of herself. She might not have a memory, but she did have a brain, and adding up all the bits and pieces she'd learned about herself revealed a very disturbing picture. Unless she was a raving lunatic, there had to be someone else in that picture, someone who had given her a reason to do what she'd done. Was it Jake?

Although she'd been eager to get rid of him, now she couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. She didn't like the idea of him talking to the police without her, or even to her doctor. Shifting restlessly on the bed, she finally sat up and made another attempt to stand. She took it slowly, fighting through the dizziness as she got to her feet. Once she felt steady, she walked across the room to the door and opened it just wide enough to take a look around.

Her room was at the far end of the hall. Across from her was a stairwell. At the other end of the hall was the nurses' station, where several people in blue scrubs could be seen milling around. There were other random people in the hallway, but the most important figure was Jake, standing a few yards away with his back to her. He was talking on his cell phone.

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 407 with amnesia resulting from a car accident."

“Yes. 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?

She had to get help. She had to say something, but she couldn't get any air into her lungs.

The scene in front of her faded away, turning to blackness. She strained to see some light, but she was completely blind.

Someone was holding her down, covering her mouth and nose. She was going to be the next person to die. But he wasn't shooting her; he was suffocating her, she realized. In seconds it would be over.

Desperation broke through her paralysis. She pushed against the weight pressing on her, using her hands to swing at anything she could reach. Her fist connected with skin, bone. She heard a grunt, a curse, but the voice... it wasn't the same voice. Who was it?

Sarah's eyes flew open. A man stood over her, wearing blue scrubs and a mask over his mouth and nose. He had a pillow in his hand, the same pillow that had just been covering her face.

He was coming back after her. He was going to try again.

Sarah screamed as loud as she could, raising her hands to fight off her attacker. The man struggled for a moment, then swore and dropped the pillow before running from the room. Gasping, Sarah put a hand to her mouth. Seconds later Jake burst through the door, a concerned expression in his eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.

“A... a man,” she stammered, waving her hand toward the door. “Did you see him? He... he tried to smother me with that pillow.” She pointed to the pillow now lying on the floor, her heart racing in triple time.

Jake looked down at the pillow, then back at her. Disbelief flooded his eyes. “What are you talking about?"

“I was asleep. When I woke up a man was holding that pillow against my face, so I screamed. Didn't you see him? He ran out of the room two seconds ago."

“I saw a male nurse come out of your room,” Jake said slowly.

“That was the guy. He was dressed in scrubs."

“Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

“I know the difference between a dream and reality,” she snapped. But she had to admit there was a small niggling doubt in the back of her mind. She had been asleep. She'd been dreaming of gunshots and blood. Was she wrong? Had she just imagined that feeling of suffocation?

No, it wasn't her imagination. He'd put the pillow against her face. She could still taste the cotton fibers in her mouth. He'd tried to suffocate her.

“Oh, my God!” The reality of what had just happened settled in. “He tried to kill me.” She looked at Jake in confusion, the horror of the past few minutes sinking into her brain. “Why would someone want to kill me?"

Jake stared back at Sarah for a long moment, doubt clouding his gaze. “You tell me."

“Obviously I don't know,” she returned. “Could you at least go look for him?"

“Is this another trick to get me out of the room?"

“Are you out of your mind?” she asked in exasperation. “Forget it. I'll look myself."

“Hang on,” Jake said with a frown. “If someone was trying to kill you, he's not going to be standing in the hall. He'd be long gone by now."

As Jake finished speaking, Rosie rushed into the room, looking worried. “What's going on?"

“There was a man in my room wearing scrubs,” Sarah said. “He tried to smother me with that pillow.” She pointed again to the pillow on the floor.

“What?” Rosie's jaw dropped in disbelief. “Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly. “You do have a head injury. Is it possible you might have imagined --"

“No, it's not possible. It happened. I know it did,” Sarah said, desperation in her voice. Why wouldn't anyone believe her?

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I'll call security,” Rosie said, holding up a reassuring hand. “I'm sure someone will be right up to talk to you about what happened."

“Are there any male nurses working on the floor right now?” Jake asked. “Maybe we could talk to them, see if someone had a reason for being in the room."

Rosie shook her head. “We don't have any male nurses on duty at the moment. But I'll ask at the nurses' station if anyone saw anything. I don't believe there were any further tests ordered, but it's possible one of the lab guys came in here -- perhaps to draw some blood."

“He wasn't here to draw blood,” Sarah said firmly.

“Before you go,” Jake said as Rosie headed to the door, “has anyone called or asked about Sarah?"

Rosie hesitated. “I think there was a call earlier. One of the other nurses took it. Ms. Tucker was sleeping, and we had her phone turned off. The nurse forwarded the call to Dr. Carmichael's office. I can check with him."

“I already asked him if he'd spoken to anyone else, and he hadn't,” Jake said. “However, it would be interesting to know if it was a man or a woman who called. Could you find out that much?"

“Of course,” Rosie said with a nod.

Sarah looked at Jake as Rosie left the room, a half dozen thoughts running through her mind. “That call to the nurses' station could be from a friend, maybe whoever has Caitlyn, or...” She licked her lips as another idea occurred to her. “Or it could have been that man who just tried to kill me. He could have asked what room I was in. Maybe that's how he found me."

Jake frowned. “I don't understand what's going on here, Sarah."

“Neither do I. But until I remember my life, I need to protect myself.” She made a quick decision. “Could you hand me my shoes?"

“You're not going anywhere."

“Look, last night someone tried to run me off the road. And just now when I was sleeping, I dreamt that I saw a man kill someone."

“Whoa, hang on a second,” he said, raising a hand. “You dreamed that you saw a murder?"

“That's what I said."

“And then you woke up and someone was trying to smother you.” He couldn't keep the skepticism from his voice. “I don't know, Sarah. Maybe you weren't all the way awake."

“That wouldn't explain why you saw a man leave my room,” she countered.

“True,” he said slowly. “But you could have misread his intent. The pillow fell on the floor during your restless sleep. He came in, picked it up, and was putting it under your head when you woke up."

“I know that sounds like a logical scenario, but that's not what happened.” She paused, wondering why he was trying so hard to convince her that no one had tried to kill her. He hadn't been the man in her room, but she still didn't trust him. “Show me your arm,” she said abruptly.