Silent Run

would feel about losing my baby."
    She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to feel. He was accusing her of stealing their child. Why would she have done such a thing? Was she a horrible person? Was she ruthless, conniving, and manipulating, the way he implied?
    Or did she have a good reason for leaving him and taking her baby with her?
    Her dream flashed back, the warning voice -- He looks harmless, with his good looks, his winning personality. Everyone else thinks he’s a prince, but you know better. You’ve seen behind the smile and the mask that he wears.
    Had this man hurt her? Hurt their child? Was that why she’d run from him?
    She saw Officer Manning studying Jake Sanders with the same suspicious gaze with which he’d originally regarded her. Was he wondering the same thing? Did she have a good reason for wanting to take her daughter away from her father?
    â€œCan you prove it?” she challenged. “Do you have pictures of us together -- you, me, and Caitlyn? Do you have a copy of Caitlyn’s birth certificate, naming you as the father?"
    His gaze narrowed. “I have a copy of the birth certificate with my name on it, but not with me. I can get it."
    â€œWhat about pictures of us together?"
    He pulled out his wallet again and handed her another small photograph. “We had this taken in one of those carnival photo booths -- before Caitlyn was born."
    She stared down at the black-and-white photo of the two of them. Jake sat behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. She leaned against him, a broad smile on her face, a laugh on her lips. She looked much younger, far more animated and relaxed than the woman whose face she’d seen in the mirror a few hours earlier. Jake also had a carefree sparkle in his eyes and a sexy grin on his lips. “We look... happy,” she said.
    â€œWe were happy, until you ruined everything."
    His voice was rough with emotion, and as their gazes met she felt the stirring of something deep and painful, a powerful connection between them. Love? Hate? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t look away. Neither could he.
    Manning faded into the background. It was just the two of them locked in a silent battle that she didn’t begin to understand but could feel down to the tips of her toes.
    â€œWhy did you have to take away every single detail of Caitlyn’s existence, Sarah?” Jake asked her, still holding her gaze. “You stripped her bedroom. And ours. You took everything -- the photographs, the toys, all the things we’d bought together. Caitlyn’s crib, her blankets, and the rocking chair I’d made for you. It was as if you wanted me to believe neither one of you had ever been there. Why?” He shook his head in bewilderment. “Did it make it easier for you to leave once you’d destroyed the home we’d made together? Did you think I could forget you? Did you think I could ever forgive you?"
    Sarah bit down on her bottom lip, tasting blood, almost relieved to have a physical pain to go with the emotional ache in her heart. Why had she done the things he accused her of doing? He must have hurt her or Caitlyn. It was the only thing that made sense. What kind of woman erased her very existence from a person’s life?
    Only a woman who was afraid of something or someone. Only a woman who was desperate to disappear without a trace .
    He had to be the reason for her fear. Otherwise she would have turned to him instead of running away. “You did something,” she said. “I don’t know what, but you must have done something."
    â€œI never gave you a reason to leave me.” Jake dragged his hand through his hair in frustration, his green eyes widening in disbelief. “Is that the way you’re going to play it now? Make up lies about us? It won’t work. I never hurt you. And I never hurt our baby."
    â€œI wouldn’t have taken our child and left you without a good reason."
    â€œHow do you know that?” he challenged. “You said you don’t remember anything. Yet your memory is suddenly returning -- just in time to paint me as the bad guy? I don’t think so.” He glanced at Officer Manning. “You can check me out. I’m an architect. I work in San Francisco, and I’ve never gotten so much as a parking ticket. I’m not a dangerous man. My slate is clean. I have nothing to hide."
    â€œI hope that’s