sit down,” Victoria urged, no doubt noticing the paleness that fear and exhaustion had painted on her skin. “Tell me what’s happened.”
Tasha had always known her future mother-in-law had uncanny instincts; she only prayed that she could keep being pregnant a secret from her. Not that she wanted to hurt Victoria or to keep things from her, but she didn’t want to tell anyone else until after she’d told Jim.
She couldn’t tell him last night.
Not even after he’d begged her to forgive him for the slip back into the darkness of his alter ego. He’d bathed her, made her hot chocolate and hovered over her for hours afterward in an attempt to make up for his slip. He’d promised it wouldn’t happen again.
But he’d been wrong.
Eventually, his sweet coddling had turned sensual and they’d made love. It was then that she’d felt Seth again. Just little glimpses…but he had been there, as real as if she’d been making love with two different men.
Tasha trembled even now, felt guilty for thinking such negative thoughts. It wasn’t that she hadn’t cared about Seth, loved him on some level, even; she just couldn’t live with that ruthless part of who and what Jim had once been. No one could.
“It’s Jim,” she said, knowing Victoria waited for some kind of explanation. “He’s suffered a regression.”
The look on Victoria’s face said it all.
Regression. The single most dreaded word known to the family members of a therapy patient.
Victoria sank back into the luxurious chair behind her desk. “Please, tell me exactly what happened.”
Her fingers twisting together in apprehension, Tasha’s knees pretty much gave way on their own, bringing her bottom in contact with the closest chair. Having said it out loud made the whole situation even more real. Tasha swallowed in an attempt to dampen her dry throat. She wasn’t sure exactly how to begin. There were parts she simply couldn’t share with Victoria. Parts she would be the first to admit that maybe she’d imagined. Tasha closed her eyes. No, she hadn’t imagined his ruthless touch, the brutal way he’d taken her even after his drawn-out apology for the way he’d greeted her when she’d come home.
Something was very, very wrong.
What could have happened to trigger this kind of sudden regression? The doctors had insisted from the beginning that any possible regression would be triggered by something. That’s why they’d all been so careful and followed every order of the team of psychiatrists studying Jim’s unparalleled case. They kept no liquor at home, not even wine.
And yet, here she sat, about to tell his mother the worst news possible.
“Last night when I came home from dinner with Martin,” Tasha began, then hesitated, scarcely able to utter the rest, “Seth was waiting.” Vivid images from their encounters last year—when she’d been working undercover in an attempt to determine the true identity of the hired assassin named Seth—fluttered one after the other through her weary mind.
Please, don’t let this destroy Jim, she silently prayed.
Color visibly drained from Victoria’s face. “Dear God, no.”
Tasha managed a nod. “I’m afraid so.”
Unable to hide as much as she’d like from the perceptive woman, Tasha sat helpless as Victoria surveyed her closer, no doubt noting the turtleneck sweater she wore, though the early fall weather hadn’t cooled enough to warrant sweaters just yet.
“Did he hurt you?”
The pain underscoring the question ripped at Tasha’s chest. Victoria had only had her son back for one year; even the vague idea of losing him again had to be killing her, just as it was Tasha.
“Not really,” Tasha allowed, hoping to spare her feelings. But Victoria was not one to be fooled so easily.
“Bruises?”
Tasha nodded. “And a couple of scratches.” She would not, under any circumstances, mention the other soreness. It was far too intimate. Tears crowded behind her lashes when she considered again how scared she had been for the baby. She quickly pushed aside the memories, couldn’t risk Victoria seeing it in her eyes.
Victoria nodded. “Shall I call Dr. Pendelton?”
Tasha shook her head. “I’m all right.” Dr. Kyle Pendelton was a longtime client of the Colby Agency. He was also a good friend of Victoria’s. “But Jim is missing or hiding.”
“You’ve been looking for Jim,” Victoria guessed, her worry visibly mounting.
“Yes. I’ve looked everywhere I can think of. Checked with the clinic. No sign of him.” Tasha swallowed tightly. “I guess this means you haven’t heard from him, either.”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t.”
Tasha felt her heart sink further. What could they do now?
“All right,” Victoria said, her voice offering hope and the kind of sheer determination that Tasha should not have doubted even for a second. “We have to assume, then, that the situation has progressed into darker territory.”
Tasha had to give her full credit—Victoria’s strength was incredible. Her ability to hold her own under the circumstances was more than Tasha could say for herself just now. She was crumbling inside. But that wouldn’t help Jim.
“What do we do about it?” Tasha asked, feeling hollow and impotent.
“We assume the worst and go from there,” Victoria said bluntly, almost—almost—sounding completely objective.
Tasha watched, feeling numb, as Victoria instructed Mildred, her personal secretary, to convene a staff meeting in the conference room.
Most of the agency’s investigators didn’t leave until around six, which meant everyone would be there.
Tasha wrung her trembling hands and ordered herself to be calm. She had to deal with this just as Victoria did. She owed it to Jim. Anything less was unacceptable. He needed Tasha right now, more than ever. The beginning had been tough, but coming this far only to fail would be devastating to him. To all of them. Tasha had to be strong for Jim.
For the baby.
Minutes later, as Tasha and Victoria entered the crowded conference room, Tasha had about pulled herself together. She surveyed the room, feeling her nerves settle a bit as she acknowledged the strength in the faces she knew so well. Ian Michaels and his wife, Nicole. Simon Ruhl. Ric Martinez. Zach Ashton. Ethan Delaney. Maxwell Pierce and Doug Cooper-Smith. Amy Benson-Calhoun. Incredibly—or maybe it was pure luck—this was one of the few times that all the investigators were actually in town at the same time.
Her gaze shifted to the plaque that held center stage in the massive room and paid tribute to those who had once served the Colby Agency but had moved on for personal reasons. The names listed included: Katherine Robertson, Nick Foster, Trevor Sloan, Alexandra Preston, Ryan Braxton, Trent Tucker, Heath Murphy. There was a special tribute to the agency’s founder, James Colby.
There
