Missing in the Mountains Page 6

  Emma inched inside. Her pulse quickened and her breaths grew shallow. Seeing the policemen and crime scene people picking through Sara’s things was like losing her all over again. The blood on the wall and windowsill reminded her of the broad smear she’d cleaned off the living room floor.

  “Hey.” Sawyer moved in front of her, the toes of his shoes bumping hers. “Take your time.”

  She snuggled Henry tighter and forced her gaze around the room. The items on Sara’s vanity, bookcase and nightstand were scattered. The floor was covered with the contents of her closet. Her mattress was askew from the box spring. “Maybe if I clean up,” she said. “It’s too messy right now. I don’t know where to look.”

  “All right,” the detective said. “We’re almost done. You can let us know once you’ve had time to reorganize.” He handed Sawyer a business card, then drifted back down the hallway.

  More than an hour later, the house was finally, eerily still.

  Sawyer double-checked the door lock, then turned to face her. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  She shook her head, heartbroken and mystified. “I have no idea.”

  He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and raised them beside his handsome face. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

  * * *

  HE DIDN’T HAVE to ask Emma twice. When he’d offered to take her and Henry to his place for a while, she’d packed two bags without hesitation. Inside the cab of his truck, Emma watched her family ranch until it was swallowed by distance and darkness.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked when the curiosity became too much.

  “I don’t know where you live,” she said with a small laugh. “I was thinking that two days ago I would never have agreed to go home with someone without asking where they lived.”

  Sawyer locked his jaw against the complaint that he wasn’t just someone. He was Henry’s father, a man she’d called in to protect her and someone she’d once claimed to have loved.

  She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I suppose you don’t still live on base with four other rangers.”

  “No,” he said. “They tend to cut off our housing once we’re discharged.” He glanced her way across the dimly lit cab. “I bought a place in the next county. We won’t be more than an hour away if the police call with new information and you want to get back.”

  Emma turned curious eyes on him. “Where in the next county?”

  “Lake Anna,” he said, nearly crushed by a wave of nostalgia.

  She swiveled in her seat, eyes wide with interest. They’d met at Lake Anna, and Emma had loved visiting the lake when they’d dated. She told him once that she wanted to live there someday, and he’d promised to buy her a home with a dock and lots of privacy so they could make love under the stars anytime they wanted. Sawyer assumed the rising color in her cheeks meant that she hadn’t forgotten that conversation either.

  He checked the rearview mirror as they moved along the desolate highway, one of only a few dozen cars traveling just before dawn. He passed his exit and got off on an unlit, extremely rural ramp instead, checking again for signs they’d been followed. By the time he backtracked several miles and made a few unnecessary turns to confirm they were still alone, the sun was rising.

  Emma straightened and rubbed her eyes as they bounced down the pitted gravel lane to his simple A-frame cottage. The motion light snapped on as he settled the vehicle outside, welcoming him home. The lawn was still dark, shaded by the surrounding forest, but the lake before them was the color of fire, reflecting the sunrise over its glassy surface.

  Sawyer bypassed the wide parking area near his back porch in favor of a smaller, narrower patch of gravel near the home’s side entrance. He used this door as his front door, because the actual front of his home faced the lake.

  Sawyer climbed out and grabbed Emma’s things from the back, then met her on the passenger side. He took Henry’s bulbous car seat carrier from her hands. “You’ll be safe here,” he promised, stepping onto the wide wraparound porch. “We weren’t followed, and I’ve barely moved in, so even if the man I shot managed to get my name somehow, the only people who know where I live are my teammates in Lexington. The home is technically owned by the company, for privacy reasons, so it will take some time and know-how to track us here.”

  He unlocked the door and hit the light switch inside, then motioned for Emma to pass. Sawyer keyed in the code to the silent alarm system, then caught Emma’s eye as she took the place in.

  She folded her arms and made a circuit around the living room, stopping to look at the photos on his mantel, then out the stretch of windows facing the lake.

  Sawyer set Henry’s car seat near the couch and went to join her. “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Thanks.” He gave the space a critical exam. Packed boxes filled the corners. Stacks of paint cans and piles of new fixtures lined the walls and nearly every flat surface. He’d gotten the place at a steal, planning to use it as a safe house for Fortress until he fell in love with it. Unable to separate the cabin and its location from his memories with Emma, he’d decided to move in. That decision had led to a lot of unexpected work and added costs. Like updating everything and getting the place a mailbox and address. For the past fifty or so years, it had been little more than a cabin in the woods. Someplace someone had built to spend weekends, but never intended as a home. “It needs a lot of work, but they say it’s all about location, right?”

  “That’s what they say,” she said softly, still focused on the lake and rising sun. “I can’t believe you’ve been this close and I had no idea.”

  Sawyer had thought the same thing the moment she’d told him he had a son. He was just one county line away, and he’d still missed the kid’s entire life so far.

  “How’s Cade?” she asked his reflection in the glass. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my messes that I haven’t even thought to ask you about your little brother.”

  Sawyer smiled at their reflections, side by side in his new home. “Cade’s good. He’s finishing up with the Marines soon, and he’ll join Fortress when he gets out.”

  “Sounds like your security firm has become the family business.” She nodded appreciatively, a note of pride in her voice. “You had your doubts about going big right out of the army, but I knew,” she said. “I’ve always known you could do anything.”

  Sawyer stepped closer and put his hands back into his pockets to stop them from reaching for her. “Wyatt put everything in motion.” Sawyer had been scheduled for discharge with Wyatt, his closest friend and brother in arms, but his captivity had kept him from it and forced Wyatt to do everything on his own. Another case of Sawyer leaving loved ones to fend for themselves.

  Wyatt, like Emma, had done a fine job without him.

  Emma erased the final few inches between them, bringing her foot and leg flush with his. She linked her arm through his and tipped her head against his shoulder.

  Sawyer raised the opposite arm across his chest and set his hand over hers on his arm.

  Soon the sun gleamed orange and was well above the horizon, looking as if it might have risen from the fiery water’s depths. Sawyer couldn’t resist it any longer. He slid the patio door open and ushered Emma outside. She gave their sleeping son a glance before moving onto the deck, where Sawyer had spent every early morning since he’d moved in. If there was an upside to insomnia, it was that he never missed a sunrise.

  “Where are all the other lake houses?” Emma asked, scanning the scene in both directions. “I remember there being so many.”

  “Those are closer to town. We’re on a finger of the lake, tucked between a privately owned hundred-acre property and the national forest.”

  “Wow.” She pushed a strand of windblown hair behind her ear and surveyed the scene again, this time with a look of remarkable
appreciation. Pride swelled nonsensically in Sawyer’s chest once more. Her approval of his home probably meant more to him than it should, but he didn’t care, he liked it.

  Emma turned to him; there seemed to be a question in her eyes, but she didn’t ask it. “I should set up Henry’s crib,” she said. “I hate to see him sleeping in the car seat.” She headed back inside and lifted the portable crib off the floor where Sawyer had left it. “Where do you want us?”

  Sawyer bit his tongue against the truth, that he wanted her and Henry right there, with him permanently, but he knew that wasn’t what she’d meant, and it was much too soon, not to mention unfair, to spring something like that on her. What he needed to do was find Sara. Complete the mission. Prove himself.

  He showed Emma to the spare room across the hall from his, and watched as she expertly unpacked and set up the portable crib, then changed Henry and got him back to sleep with only the smallest cry of protest. She really was great at being a mother. His son was a lucky boy.

  Sawyer’s father had been a real son of a gun, and Sawyer had sworn long ago to never repeat any of his varied and extensive mistakes. If he ever had a family of his own. He’d already started off on the wrong foot by not returning Emma’s calls. Even if he thought he was doing her a favor. He should’ve let her make that decision for herself. Now he could only hope that she’d forgive him. She might understand logically why he hadn’t called, but the pain of feeling rejected and unwanted was a lot to overcome, and there was nothing logical about the process.

  “Sawyer?” Emma asked, pulling him from his reverie. “Are you going to lie down awhile?”

  “No.” He bristled at the thought. He had far too much to protect under his roof now, and too much work to be done in the meanwhile. “I’m going to have another look at Sara’s notebook.”

  Emma crossed her arms and frowned. “I thought you gave it to Detective Rosen.”

  He nodded. “I did. Right after I photographed the pages.”

  She smiled. “Okay. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep, but I’m going to try. Once Henry wakes, he’ll need me.”

  “Of course.” Sawyer moved toward the door, longing to tell her she wasn’t alone. She didn’t have to carry the weight of single parenthood anymore. He could make bottles, change diapers, shake rattles. He was hardly a professional at those things, but he was a quick study and he wanted to learn. Instead, he settled for “I’ll be here if you need me.”

  Emma curled her small hand over his on the doorknob. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Sawyer’s body stiffened at her touch, with the urge to pull her against him and kiss her the way he’d dreamed of doing for a year. “For what?”

  “For coming to my rescue the other night. For protecting us now.” She removed her hand from his and slid her palm up the length of his arm and over his shoulder. When her fingers reached the back of his neck, a firestorm of electricity coursed through him.

  She rocked onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

  Sawyer nodded once, then pulled the bedroom door shut between them while he could still bring himself to walk away.

  * * *

  EMMA WOKE HOURS later to the sound of Henry’s laughter.

  Her bedroom door was open and his portable crib was empty, but his laugh was brightening her day even before her feet had hit the floor. According to her phone, it was nearly lunchtime. She’d had more sleep than she’d expected, given the circumstances, and she felt almost hopeful as she padded down the hall of Sawyer’s lake house toward the living area.

  The sliding patio doors were open, and Sawyer was on the porch swing with Henry, a near repeat of a similar situation yesterday. Funny the difference a day made. Emma couldn’t find it in her to be irritated now. A cool breeze blew off the lake, tousling her hair as she emerged onto the wide wooden planks and joined them. “Sounds like you guys are having a good time.”

  “We are,” Sawyer answered. “We’ve already been down to the dock to feed the ducks and fish,” he said. “Henry had a bottle and is on his third diaper. It’s been a busy morning.”

  Emma stroked her son’s cheek. “When did you learn to make bottles and change diapers?” she asked, enjoying the warm, easy smile on Sawyer’s face. He looked at ease, even peaceful, holding Henry to his chest.

  “YouTube,” he said. “I considered asking you for instructions, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Well, that was one way to do it.” Emma smiled at the sunlight winking across the water. She’d always wanted a place just like this one, and Sawyer had found one, complete with a boat dock and canoe. Now here they were, in the place they’d wanted to be, but time and circumstance had changed everything. Was there a way back for them, after all they’d been through? The electricity continually zinging in the air between them suggested there was, but was chemistry enough? She had Henry to think about now.

  “I made coffee if you need a pick-me-up,” Sawyer said. “Creamer’s in the refrigerator if you want it.”

  “Thanks.” She turned for the house, suddenly desperate for the caffeine.

  Sawyer stood with Henry. “Why don’t we make lunch and watch the twelve o’clock news? Maybe there will be coverage of Sara’s disappearance. Cops can be tight-lipped, but reporters rarely are.”

  Emma nodded. “Good idea.”

  Sawyer beat her to the refrigerator and passed her the creamer. “How about BLTs?”

  “Sounds good.” She poured the coffee while Sawyer made the sandwiches and Henry bobbed in his portable high chair, attached to the side of Sawyer’s table. She scanned the utilitarian space and smiled. Sawyer’s decorating style was a clear reflection of himself. The only valuable items in sight were above the fireplace. In the event of a robbery, the television was the best a thief would do here. In case of a fire, Sawyer would go straight for the line of framed photos below the flat screen. She pulled her purse off the back of the chair and dug inside for another priceless photo and carried it to the mantel. “Do you mind?” she asked, setting the picture of her parents with her and Sara in line beside Sawyer’s photos. “I took it from Sara’s desk and put it in my purse for safekeeping. Luckily, that psychopath didn’t get it when he took the diaper bag.”

  Sawyer moved into the space behind her and powered on the television. The heat from his torso warmed her chest as he reached around her. “You can put anything of yours anywhere you like around here.”

  She let herself lean back and rest against him a moment before returning to the kitchen. She had to stay focused. Had to remember what was at stake. Sara was missing, and that was why Sawyer was there, not to fulfill some long-suffering fantasy of Emma’s. Her heart was already a mess of tattered shreds without giving in to a desire that would only leave her hollow and ruined.

  Sawyer set the table, and they settled in to a quiet meal of chips and sandwiches when the local news began.

  “Do you think they’ll mention the break-in at my place last night?” she asked. “Or my mugging outside the credit union?” Did the whole town know what she was going through?

  A woman in a gray pantsuit stood before the camera. “Here at the scene of an early-morning hit-and-run on Main Street,” she began.

  “A hit-and-run,” Emma groaned. “What is going on in our town lately? Has everyone gone mad?”

  Sawyer’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move his attention from the television. He lifted the remote and pumped the volume up to ten. “That looks like Sara’s credit union in the background.”

  “What?” Emma set her sandwich aside and peered more closely at the flat screen over the fireplace.

  “According to authorities,” the reporter continued, “assistant branch manager Kate Brisbane was on her way to work this morning when a white sedan struck and threw her, leaving Kate with extensive injuries. She was taken by ambulance to Mercy General Hospital, where docto
rs have admitted her to the ICU for treatment and observation.”

  Emma covered her mouth with both hands. She’d just spoken to Kate yesterday before she was cornered outside the credit union, mugged and hit. Kate’s accident couldn’t have been a coincidence. Could it? She turned her gaze to Sawyer, who was still glaring at the television.

  “Kate Brisbane is the one you spoke with yesterday before you were assaulted?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He pushed to his feet, plate in hand. “You want to go to the hospital?” he asked. “Pretend to be family so we can talk to Kate and see if she remembers anything more than the color of the car that hit her?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Seven

  Emma fought her surging emotions all the way to the hospital. The last few days were taking a toll on her both mentally and physically. Any one of the things she was experiencing would normally have been enough to keep her busy overthinking for weeks. Piling them up day after day without a moment to breath or process was making her half-ill, jittery and desperate for a break.

  Sawyer watched his mirrors diligently, his gaze making a continual circuit from rearview, to sideview, to the road, then back again. She presumed the exercise was to be sure they weren’t being followed, and for roughly the thousandth time since Sawyer’s arrival, she was struck with overwhelming gratitude to have him there with her.

  He followed the hospital signs to visitor parking without a word, then helped her out of the truck before reaching for Henry’s car seat. “Are you ready for this?” he asked.

  “Not really,” she admitted. She hadn’t been ready for any of it, but here she was. She took Sawyer’s arm as he beeped the doors locked on the truck and turned for the hospital entrance. She tried not to imagine they were a real family as passersby smiled at them. Though it was certainly a nice thought.

  She let her mind slip past the reminder that this was only temporary as she stepped through the hospital’s automatic doors, and she refocused on the reason they were there. Someone had tried to kill Kate this morning, and anything Kate could remember might be the key to finding Sara.