Abduction. Cynthia Eden
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Maybe.
Maybe not.
“Did the FBI send you down here to research Christy Anderson’s case?”
“No, I came down here because I knew it was time to face my own past. You can only hide from the truth for so long.” Her smile felt bittersweet. “After all, you and I both know...we traded my life for Christy’s.”
He swore and advanced toward her.
Jill threw up her hands. “Don’t! I don’t want you touching me, okay, Hayden?”
He flinched, as if she’d hurt him, and Jill realized that she had. Right. Like he never hurt me. One night...ten years ago...he’d ripped her heart right out of her chest.
A woman could do a whole lot in this world without a heart.
“You used to like it when I touched you,” Hayden said.
Oh, no, he had not just gone there. Jill’s hands went to her hips. “And you used to not be a jerk who turned his back on the one person he swore mattered the most to him—”
Pain flashed on his face. “Jill—”
“No!” She squeezed her eyes shut. “This isn’t what I want.” It wasn’t. And she wasn’t just hurting Hayden. She was hurting herself. Jill forced her eyes to open. “I’m sorry.” Time to be incredibly honest. “I didn’t count on seeing you again.” Actually, she’d been sure he was an ocean away. So much for her contact at the CIA. Mr. Oh, Yes, I Know Where His SEAL Team Is. “I wasn’t prepared for you, and I’m...” Her laughter held a rough edge. “I was already raw enough before I came to Hope.”
“Believe me, Jill. The last thing I ever want is to hurt you.”
He seemed so sincere. She wanted to believe him. “Maybe we can call a truce?”
His gaze drifted over her and turned wistful. “I didn’t realize we were at war.”
No? “I could use a friend right now.” A stark admission. “I’ve... I’ve always thought you were my best friend.” And that was why it had hurt her so much when he’d walked away. She hadn’t just lost her lover. She’d lost her friend.
Did he have any clue...she’d used to imagine their wedding? She’d thought they would grow old together. That they would always be an unstoppable team. Because that was how she’d felt when they were together. Unstoppable.
Safe.
She’d always been safe with Hayden. Then he’d ripped away her safety net.
“I will be anything you want me to be,” Hayden promised, his voice a rumble.
Her stare lifted, held his. Did he know why she’d asked him not to touch her? Did he realize just what his touch did to her? Even the careless brush of his fingers over her arm had her tensing. His touch stirred her memories, stirred her. Her heartbeat raced, her breath hitched, and she ached...
For things that she couldn’t have.
“Right now, I need you to be the sheriff who is cooperating with an FBI agent.” Though she had zero jurisdiction. She wasn’t going to point out that fact, though. “I’m in town, you have a cold case, and I want to see if there’s anything I can do to help solve it.”
The faint lines on either side of his mouth deepened. Time had been kind to Hayden. Gone were the boyish looks he’d had years ago. Now, his face was ruggedly handsome, carved and hard.
Sexy.
Especially when he smiled. Hayden didn’t have dimples, definitely not. But he did have hard slashes that appeared in his cheeks when he let himself really smile. Once upon a time, his real smiles had been reserved for her.
A lifetime ago.
“Christy Anderson has been dead a long time, Jill,” he spoke carefully.
“I know exactly how long Christy’s been dead.” She paced toward the window and looked out. She figured this had to be the only sheriff’s office in the country with a view of the ocean. Talk about a prime spot. And, most days, it was a plum job, too. There wasn’t a whole lot of crime in Hope. The occasional bar fight, some drunk and disorderly conduct...nothing too bad.
The last bad thing...well, that had happened to Jill. And to Christy. Because one day—one day—after Hayden and Jill escaped from that little cabin on the edge of the marsh, Christy Anderson had gone missing. Only no one had been there to follow the girl when she was abducted. No one had been there to get her out of that sick jerk’s clutches.
And...less than twenty hours later, Christy’s body had been found on the beach. She’d been found completely dry, covered with a blanket. She’d never touched the water.
Her neck had been broken. Left behind in the dark.
I lived, but she died. And that truth would never leave Jill alone.
“I want to find the man who killed her,” Jill said, nodding her head as she stared out at the waves. Last night’s storm lingered on the surf. “Because if I find him...”
“You’ll find the man who took you.”
Yes. And she’d stop always looking over her shoulder, always wondering... Is he watching? Is he coming back? An FBI agent was supposed to be confident, supposed to fear nothing and no one, but Jill feared far too much.
“You of all people know...” The floor creaked beneath his heavy footsteps. “The odds of finding him—after all this time—it’s going to be nearly impossible.”
She rolled her shoulders back in a shrug. “So maybe I’ll dig into the files. Maybe I’ll spend a few days of vacation searching for evidence that won’t lead anywhere. It’s my time to waste.”
He was behind her. She could feel him. Jill made herself look back. “I need this, Hayden.”
He nodded once, grimly. His hand lifted as if he’d touch her cheek, but then his fingers curled closed as he seemed to catch himself. His fisted hand fell back to his side. “Jill, when are you going to realize that I’d pretty much do anything for you?”
Shock radiated through her. He stalked toward the wide, cherrywood desk that sat in the middle of the office. He pushed the chair back and opened the top drawer. A moment later, he was lifting a yellowed file and offering it to her. “Not a lot is in here, I’m afraid.”
She felt rooted to the spot. “You...you’d already pulled the file?” She knew there was an old records room in the back of the station. As a teen, she’d trailed after Sheriff Peek many times once she’d realized that she’d wanted to go into law enforcement. He’d said she was interning with him...and he’d strode around with his chest puffed out.
The first time she’d met Peek, he’d been tearing into Hayden. It was only later, much later, that she’d come to see the good heart hidden