The day that happened, Jake had cut out early and gone home to find his wife on her way out the door with her suitcases. “I deserve to be happy,” was all she’d said when he’d pressed her for reasons. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it; plainly, she’d meant to be gone before he got home.
It didn’t matter-he knew the reason. And he knew the fault was all his. For too long, all his time, energy and passion had been focused on getting Cisneros; he’d had nothing left over for his wife. What he’d told Eve-that it had happened overnight-had been a lie. The simple truth was, Sharon’s love for him had died a long, slow death by starvation. And it was a whole lot easier to blame Sonny Cisneros than his own shortcomings as a husband.
He swore inaudibly and closed his eyes, wrenching himself out of the past and back to the present. Which for the first time in a long while was looking like it might just give him a future to look forward to. After Hal Robey had drowned in that hurricane last summer, he’d been ready to pack it in. He’d actually looked into it-leaving the Bureau-but something had held him back, kept him from taking that final step. And now, by God, it looked as if he was being given another shot. He had a witness, and this one he wasn’t going to lose. He’d be careful, take it slow and easy…one step at a time.
He still had to convince Eve to go along with the program, but he was confident she would. Of course she would; she knew what the stakes were as well as he did-better than he did. It was her life that was on the line, after all, though the risks, if they were careful and she did what she was supposed to do, should be minimal. Minimal, he told himself. At worst, they’d get nothing concrete enough to take to court, she’d bide her time and break off the relationship, and that would be that But if things went the way he hoped…at last, Sonny Cisneros was going down.
The tap on the bathroom door sent a shot of adrenaline through his system.
It was Shepherd. The moment Jake opened the door Matt said tersely, “He’s gone. I told him we needed to run more tests, get her fitted with the collar before she can be released tomorrow morning.”
“He’ll be here with the limo to pick me up,” Eve put in. Beyond Shepherd, Jake could see her sitting upright against the pillows, one eye purpling and bloodshot, the other glittering like moonlit water. In spite of the bandages she had a pugnacious look-a beat-up prizefighter on an adrenaline high.
Jake flashed her a sharp glance, then said to Shepherd, “Where? He’s not taking her back to Vegas-”
Eve shook her head, then caught herself. “Oops-gotta remember not to do that, don’t I?”
“The collar’ll help you remember,” Dr. Shepherd said cheerfully.
“I hope so. Anyway, no-actually. Sonny’s being really sweet about this-he says he figured I’d want to be close to my doctor and my family, so he’s made arrangements for us to stay at this new resort he’s building on Hilton Head. That’s not far from Summer and Riley’s place-”
“Really,” said Jake thoughtfully.
“And just a hop and a skip from my brand-new office here in Savannah.” Dr. Shepherd aimed his FDR grin at Eve and began gathering up the scattered X rays. “Well-I’ve got things to attend to, looks like. I’m gonna leave you two to work out details between you. Jake, I’ll have that collar ready by this evening, if you want to-”
“Yeah-fine.” Jake silenced him with a surreptitious hand gesture and the smallest twitch of his head toward Eve.
“Right-see y’all later.” With a wave and a wink, Shepherd tucked the X rays under his arm and bounded from the room.
The silence he left behind was thick as cobwebs. Jake felt it settle around him as he turned, so that he seemed to be moving through a sticky, gauzy curtain of his own guilt.
“What was that all about?” Eve demanded, not quite suspicious, just wary, watching him with her head cocked to one side, and that bright-eyed, titmouse look about her again.
“What was what?” he countered, about as convincing as a cookie thief with crumbs on his chin.
“That.” She mimicked his little warning head jerk, then grimaced. “Oh, shoot-I’ve got to quit doing things like that.”
“Like the doc said, that’s what the collar’s for,” Jake said sourly. “To keep you from doing things like that.”
“Uh-huh… He said he’d have the collar ready by this evening. He said that to you, Jake. He said he’d have the collar ready for you. What have you got to do with my neck brace?”
She sure didn’t miss much. Which, he reminded himself, was exactly what was going to make her one helluva witness.
Instead of answering her, he walked over to the window where he stood for a few minutes looking out at the parking lot, slowly filling up now, with Sunday-afternoon visitors. Then he turned, leaned against the wall and folded his arms.
It was a small room; he could almost have reached out and touched her, and yet he felt that she was far, far away from him. Which was, of course, the way he wanted it. Detachment, that’s what he had to have if he was going to make this work. Keep a professional distance, keep the operation and its goal in front of him at all times. Care about her safety-that went without saying. But beyond that-stay away.
But as he stood there staring at the Eve lying just beyond his arm’s reach in her hospital bed, he couldn’t keep himself from seeing instead all the other Eves he’d met over the course of the last twenty-four hours, the Eves from which he hadn’t managed to keep that critical distance.
The battered bride, reeking of garbage and tanked on vintage champagne, taking him by surprise in his van and then turning to him with terror and pleading in her eyes…
The sleeping beauty he’d had no choice but to undress… and it had been like Pandora opening her box, revealing every adolescent male’s fantasy… Lush femininity wrapped in creamy skin and all tied up in garters and lace… Long, smooth legs in silky white stockings that he could feel wrapped around him-hoo boy, and how was he supposed to put that mischief back in the box? Tell himself he hadn’t seen it? Order himself not to remember?
Oh, and for God’s sake, don’t remember the brave but doomed princess who’d stood with her head trustingly bowed, like Anne Boleyn baring her neck to the headsman, while he relieved her of her jewelry. And why was it he could still feel that mouth-watering sensation he’d gotten when he’d thought-just for an instant-of putting his mouth on the little red mark the clasp had made on her skin?
Why was it he could still feel the weight of her body in his arms, the warm, moist pool of her breath against his shoulder as he’d carried her into the hospital? The shivers of suppressed laughter-mostly nerves, he knew, but dangerously contagious nonetheless-that had made him think of tumbling her into something soft and near and romping with her there with the mindless abandon of puppies and children and very new lovers.
And finally, the one image that had brought him back to her room last night and kept him company through the hours of his vigil while she slept…one solitary tear slipping down her cheek, leaving its trail of silver…
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Her voice was quiet, not accusing, just accepting. Waiting.
Jake shook his head, not in answer to the question, but to chase the images of those other Eves from his mind. And he frowned, not at her, but as a means to force himself to concentrate on the Eve that faced him now with her bruises and bandages and a bright, intelligent gaze. Finally he took a breath, let it out slowly and said, “That time I just bought you-I said it’s up to you what you do with it?”
She nodded, her face grave. “I understood what you were saying. I have to find a way to break up with Sonny without making him suspicious.” She looked away before she swallowed. “It’s not going to be easy.”