opened her eyes and lanced him with her careful stare. “I’m glad you’re here, Ryder. You look good, and I’m glad to see you this way again.”
He didn’t have to ask what she meant by “this way again.” He knew. Healthy. Rested. Fed. The last time she’d seen him, he was a shell of himself, obsessed with the one that had literally gotten away. He didn’t eat or sleep in those days, and he was pretty light on the showers and speech. He’d spent every hour fixated on Timothy Sand and his capture. Ryder raised his mug and blew across the fog of steam. “Thanks. I took your advice. Got some help.”
Agency-mandated help, but still.
He’d lost control and laid a fist into the new kid who’d brought Sand in but failed to keep him in jail because of the flimsy case he’d prepared. Ryder had been temporarily relieved of his badge and sidearm after that. It was the lowest point of his career. The lowest point of his life had been two months earlier, when Kara told him to pull it together or leave.
The suspension eventually opened his eyes to how far he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Mandatory sessions with an in-house therapist had helped him get his life back together. By that time, it was too late to come home to Kara. His mind was clear, and he finally understood how much he’d hurt her. She deserved better than that.
“You ever catch that guy?” she asked. “What was his name—Timothy Rand?”
“Sand,” Ryder corrected. “Timothy Sand. No. I never did.”
She twisted her mouth into a sad smile. As if to say, It was all for nothing, then. A broken engagement. Two broken hearts.
Ryder cleared his thickening throat. “How about you? You’re stunning as ever. Motherhood’s been good to you, I see.”
“Thanks.” She dropped her attention away from him, and a blush darkened her cheeks. When she dragged her gaze back to his, she smiled. “She might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I never expected I’d be a single mother, but she’s worth it, and I know we’ll be okay.”
Kara was strong. He’d never let the kindergarten-teacher front fool him. She could command armies if needed. “And the father?” Ryder forced the last word through his teeth. No one who abandoned his woman and unborn child deserved a title like that. But what else could he call him. Whoever he was.
“Gone.” She pulled in and released a long, steady breath. There was no remorse in her face, no anger. She was a better person than Ryder. The man hadn’t done a thing to him, and he wanted to punch his face.
“Does he check in from time to time or...”
“No,” she interrupted. “Like I said. He’s gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And he was. Because if the guy was here, he could hit him.
“Thanks.”
West had it right on this one. Kara was better off without a man who’d leave her like that. Ryder settled back in his chair, stretching booted feet beneath the table. He and Kara were about as caught up as they could get without unloading the massive elephant from his pocket. He set his phone on the table and flipped quickly through the photos he’d downloaded after speaking with West tonight. “I’ve got a photo of a fugitive I’d like you to look at.”
Kara stiffened. He could almost see the lightbulb flicking on as fear bleached her freckled cheeks. “You think the man who talked to me is a federal fugitive?”
“It might be nothing.” He forced a lazy smile. “Maybe your guy was a run-of-the-mill weirdo.”
She lifted crossed fingers in a show of sarcasm.
“Let’s find out.”
Kara raised her chin in agreement. “Okay.” She opened her hand to him. “Let’s see it, then.”
Ryder turned the little screen to face her. “Do you recognize him?” The photo of Sand was nearly two years old, and the most recent surveillance the US Marshals had. He wore a bushy beard and full head of hair in the picture, nothing like the description she’d just given him.
“That’s him.”
Ryder’s gaze jumped to hers. “You sure?” His heart pumped strong and hard against his ribs. “This is the man who bothered you today? You said he was clean-shaven and wore a hat. How can you tell with the big beard and wild hair?” He even had sunglasses in the gas station photo.
Kara set one pale pink fingernail on the grainy image. “There.”
Ryder turned the screen to him for a closer look.
The photo showed Timothy crossing the parking lot, legs extended in midstep, tucking cash into his wallet. One wrist in full view of the camera, with a small black spot marking him for the marshal.
She leveled Ryder with a no-nonsense look. “I’m willing to bet you’ll see that’s a heart if you blow up the image. Now, it’s your turn.”
Ryder stared at the photo. Sand didn’t have a tattoo. Did he? If so, he’d gotten it since the last time Ryder had laid eyes on him, and he hadn’t noticed it in this photo until now. Because he hadn’t expected it, the spot had seemed to him like nothing more than a digital blemish, but Kara’s description and the placement of that mark were too coincidental.
Ice rolled through Ryder’s veins. Timothy Sand was in Shadow Point, and he knew who Kara was.
“You want to tell me exactly who that man is?” she asked, arms folded on the table. “And why a federal fugitive whom you’re hunting sought me out in a park bursting with people?”
Ryder pulled in a deep steadying breath. “I can only guess at how to answer that last question.”
“And the first?”
Ryder dropped the phone between them. “This man is Timothy Sand.”
Kara’s eyes bulged. Her heart lodged in her throat. “No,” she said, unwilling to allow the vile statement to be true. “He can’t be.” She pressed her pointed finger against the tabletop. “No.”
Ryder rubbed his mouth and lightly stubbled cheeks, a look of apologetic desperation in his eyes. “Kara,” he began.
She shook her head, cutting off whatever he’d planned to say. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are going to be ‘Just kidding,’ then keep ’em to yourself.” Her traitorous lip quivered and tears stung her tired eyes. There had been far too much drama today. Too many men. They were ruining the peaceful, predictable, nearly perfect life she adored. She and Casey were supposed to be safe in Shadow Point. Supported by the community. Surrounded by a tight network of moms she’d met in Lamaze and Stroller Fit classes. Things were going really well, and now...her gaze fell on Ryder’s handsome, bunched up face. “You can’t come strutting back into my life after years of doing who-knows-what and mess it all up. I won’t allow it.”
His jaw dropped.
