you?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I don’t know why that bothers me, but it does,” she admitted.
He ran a hand through his long hair, clearing his forehead for a moment. “Everything added up,” he said as though to himself. “I was so sure it was you.”
“I really would like to know how you escaped, Jack. I don’t understand why I didn’t hear about it on the news.”
“Hardly anyone knows I’m back.”
“Didn’t you go to the consulate? Didn’t you need to get a new passport?”
“Not the way I came back into the country.”
“Why would you come back illegally? You’re a hero—”
“I came back under my own terms to find the truth,” he said, looking out to the ocean. “I didn’t want to get lost in red tape and protocol. I’ll do that later. I have this feeling there’s a ticking bomb I can’t find.”
“Oh, Jack, I’m sorry.”
He flashed her a quick glance. “I thought you would have the answers. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“I guess I’ll have to settle for that,” she said. She started to turn again.
“Meet me later tonight,” he said suddenly, reaching for her arm, catching her sleeve.
“I can’t,” she mumbled. “It’s impossible.”
His fingers slid down her arm, lingered on her hand. “Come to Fort Bragg for an hour,” he said, his voice softer now.
Fort Bragg was several miles south of Allota and was the home of the Staar Foundation. She’d just come from there an hour before. She said, “I’m sorry—”
“Please,” he added. “I need to know more about your plans in Costa del Rio. Anything you can remember might help. I have to figure out what’s going on down there, Hannah. It’s more important than I can tell you. It’s bigger than the ambush and a half-dozen deaths. This isn’t just about revenge.”
Glancing down at their linked fingers, she recalled how bereft she’d been when he disappeared the day after their night together. Coming on the heels of David’s death, she’d decided she was a jinx of the worst kind.
After their one wild night together had she anticipated their relationship might continue? The truth? Yes. There was something about Jack Starling—there had been then, there was now. But things had changed and now there was too much at stake to get involved. “I’m sorry,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “It’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, too,” he murmured.
Together, they walked back up the dune. The parking lot had cleared out while she was gone and now Hannah’s car was the only one at the back. She’d been away from it less than thirty minutes. The perishables should be okay. Well, maybe not the ice cream …
The explosion wasn’t the kind that shook the earth, but was so unexpected, it sent Hannah toppling back against Jack. He immediately swiveled her around as if to shield her from danger, the bodyguard in him coming to the forefront, his strong, warm body pressed against hers.
She looked over his shoulder at the black cloud of smoke enveloping her car.
At police request, Jack presented his identity, holding his breath it would pass scrutiny. The last name on it was Carlin instead of Starling. It had stood up earlier in the month when he used it, and he assumed it would hold up again. The cops made notes and handed the false driver’s license back and then proceeded to ignore him.
Hannah had walked away from him to make a call, and now she tucked her cell phone into her handbag as she returned. She’d seemed desperate to make this call after the explosion. He didn’t know if it was because she thought she knew who was behind the bomb or because she was concerned a loved one would hear the news and start to worry.
There was so much he didn’t know about her.
Twenty feet farther along, firemen and police were finishing their investigation. The afternoon was giving way to evening, the breeze of earlier in the day getting serious enough to thrash Hannah’s straight, shoulder-length hair around her neck. She turned her face into the wind to clear a few glistening strands of red-gold from her mouth and eyes.
She struck him as more contained, less vulnerable and stronger than the last time they’d met. Just as attractive, yes. Just as interesting with a spark of naughty in her clear green eyes. He liked the way her nose tilted up a little at the end, he liked the few freckles scattered across her cheeks.
After seeing and talking to her again it was hard to believe she’d been in on something as nasty as what happened in Tierra Montañosa. He had the gut feeling she was telling the truth, but he had just as strong a feeling she was hiding something he needed to know.
“What did you mean when you accused me of watching you?” Jack asked.
“It’s not important,” she said, and then looked over his shoulder as something else caught her attention. He turned to find that one of the police officers had detached himself from the others and was walking toward them. With a hasty glance back at Jack, Hannah quickly moved to meet the officer and lowered her head as they spoke. Jack recognized her attempts to keep her conversations private. He’d operated the same way for most of his life.
He swallowed his impatience with her and closed his eyes, searching for the Zen-like spot inside himself he’d learned to access during his months of captivity. For an admitted control freak, there was nothing more humbling than being at the total mercy of merciless men. He’d found the only way to survive with his brain still working was to adapt.
He relaxed tense muscles in his neck and shoulders as the cool ocean breeze blew in his hair and whipped his shirt around his torso. He concentrated on the caw of gulls, the distant sound of waves. The crowd noise receded. He was standing alone, an invisible shaft of energy running through his skull and out the soles of his feet, connecting him to the center of the earth. He was free.
No wire cages. No chains around his neck. No starvation, no guns jabbed into his gut for no reason. No yelling, no threats, no terror.
Part of him yearned to accept that it had all happened the way Hannah said, to get on his bike and go find the rest of his life and never look back. But it wasn’t a big part and he knew in his heart it would never happen. He was who he was today because of what had happened to him yesterday. That’s the way it worked.
He opened his eyes to find Hannah staring at him. She wore a salmon-colored sweater that somehow matched her lips though he hadn’t noticed any lipstick. Until that second he hadn’t realized he’d even looked at her lips, but of course he had. If he wanted to torture himself, he could relive the taste of those lips; it wouldn’t be the first time. If he wanted to check himself into a mental ward, he could work his memory down each delicious curve and dip of her body.
He’d done that a time or two, as
