Silent Run

name through her brain, but it meant nothing to her. “The name isn’t familiar."
    â€œAnd you don’t know how you happened to be driving her car about a hundred miles north of L.A?"
    â€œNo.” She paused, not liking the tone in his voice or the frown on his face. “What are you implying? Do you think I stole the car?"
    â€œI hope not."
    â€œWell, I’m sure I didn’t,” she said quickly.
    â€œHard to be sure of anything when you don’t know who you are."
    Was she the kind of person who could steal a car? It seemed unlikely, but how could she know?
    â€œIf you’re in trouble, if you’re mixed up in something, it’s not too late to set things right,” the deputy said, his gaze hard and direct.
    â€œI don’t know if I’m in trouble. I don’t know who I am. I wish to God someone could tell me."
    â€œI can tell you who you are. I can tell you exactly who you are,” a man said from the doorway.

Chapter Three

    Her heart sped up as a tall man wearing faded blue jeans, a gray knit shirt, and a black leather jacket strode into the room with a purpose that couldn’t be denied. Broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, he moved like an athlete intent on reaching the goal line, no matter who got in his way. His dark brown hair, wavy and windswept, brushed the collar of his jacket, and as he drew closer she saw his eyes -- a fierce, fiery green filled with accusation and something that looked like hatred. She sat up straight, feeling the instinctive need to protect herself.
    Who was this man? And why was every nerve in her body going on full alert?
    â€œWho are you?” she asked warily.
    â€œWhat do you mean, who am I? You know who I am, Sarah. It hasn’t been that long since we’ve seen each other.” His gaze burned into hers. “Did you really think changing your hair color would stop me from recognizing you? If you wanted a disguise, you should have covered up those beautiful, lying blue eyes of yours."
    She swallowed hard, trying to make sense of his words. “Is that my name? Sarah?"
    His gaze sharpened, darkened. His lips drew into a tight line, and his hands clenched in fists at his sides. “Of course that’s your name. What the hell is going on? Why are you acting like you don’t know me? And where is Caitlyn?” He turned to Officer Manning. “Where’s my daughter?"
    â€œI don’t know,” Manning replied. “The paramedics reported only one person in the car after the accident -- this woman you’re calling Sarah."
    â€œWhat do you mean, Caitlyn wasn’t in the car?” He turned back to her. “What have you done with my daughter?"
    He gripped the bed railing, his knuckles turning white. She had the feeling it took all of his self-control not to put his hands on her neck and squeeze the answers out of her.
    â€œI have a head injury,” she said. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t know who you are, or who I am, and most important, I don’t know where my baby is."
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about? What is she talking about?” he demanded of Manning.
    â€œAccording to the doctor, she has amnesia."
    â€œNo fucking way,” he replied.
    â€œIt’s true,” she said, but her words didn’t begin to dim the utter disbelief in his eyes. At least she had a few facts to work with now -- her own name, Sarah. And this man had confirmed that she had a child. “Caitlyn,” she murmured. “Is that my baby’s name?"
    â€œOf course that’s her name. And she’s not your baby. She’s our baby,” he said grimly. “You had no right to take her away from me, to keep her for so long without a word. Now you’re pretending not to remember anything? This is absurd.” He turned back to Manning. “Where is my child?"
    â€œThat’s what we’re trying to figure out. Why don’t you back up and tell me who you are and who she is?” Manning replied.
    â€œI’m Jake Sanders. She’s Sarah Tucker,” he said impatiently. “We have a daughter, Caitlyn.” His voice roughened with emotion, and he sent her another harsh glare. “You don’t remember Caitlyn? What kind of a mother doesn’t remember her own child?"
    The accusation ripped her heart apart. She closed her eyes against the pain and the sense that he was right. She must be a bad mother, a very bad