Ten minutes later, Mark slid into a booth at Ruby’s Diner and ordered eggs and toast and a mug of coffee. In another thirty minutes, the place would be hopping. Ruby’s was just as busy on Saturday as it was on a weekday. For now, only he and two other nonstaffers were inside.
Outside, dawn cracked the night sky and weak sunlight spilled through. Arrogant of the sun to shine such soft pinks and yellows when everything that most mattered to him was in danger. The sky should be striped with jagged slashes of red.
Something in his pocket stuck into his thigh. Keys? He reached in and pulled out the little box, then opened it. Lisa’s and his sand dollar.
Memories assaulted him. The warm breezy night at the beach when she’d first given it to him. Nora had called and insisted he go to the annual singles’ event at church. He’d refused until she mentioned that she had insisted Lisa take a break from studying and go. After she left, Nora was worried Dutch might find out and give her trouble. He seemed to know where Lisa was all the time.
That’s all it had taken. Mark went. He flipped the shell over in his hand, studied it. Now he was so glad he had. Lisa had looked amazing in the moonlight, her face glowing from the heat of the bonfire. But as he approached, he could see she was wary, watching the crowd, checking back over her shoulder …
She spotted him, and her wariness disappeared. “Mark. I’m surprised to see you here.”
He shrugged. “It’s a nice night. Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
At the water’s edge, Lisa held on to him, removed her sandals, and let them dangle from her crooked finger. He took his shoes off, and they let the incoming waves curl over their feet.
They’d walked for miles and talked the entire way. He told her about Jane—something he’d never told anyone outside the team who had lived through it with him.
“I’m so sorry.” Lisa dropped her sandals, nudged him to drop his. When he did, she laced both their hands. Her eyes were luminous, large and wet with unshed tears. “You loved her.”
“Yes.” He lightly squeezed her fingers until their palms pressed flat. “She was the best friend I’ve ever had.”
The wind teased Lisa’s hair, blowing it back from her face. “You weren’t a couple?”
“No, no.” He lifted a strand caressing Lisa’s cheek, let the backs of his fingertips brush against her skin. So soft . “She was the little sister of my heart.” Did that sound silly? Probably. But it was true .
“Did she feel that way too?”
“She did.” He nodded, too emotional to say more.
Lisa brought their joined hands to her face, held them tightly to her. “I’m so sorry, Mark.”
“Me too.” He swallowed hard, rebuffed the urge to turn for safer, less charged ground.
Lisa must have understood. With gentle strokes of her thumb, she soothed his hand, stepped closer, and hugged him.
Mark’s heart thundered against her ear. She smelled like he imagined heaven would smell: sweet and pure, fresh and clean. Traces of the fire’s scent lingered and mingled with that of the tangy salt water. But they blended and faded, and her scent was the only one noted. Familiar and good, and uniquely Lisa.
She smoothed the back of his shirt in long arcs that burned his skin beneath the cotton fabric. Caressing that sank deep into his skin and beyond through flesh and muscle until its tenderness touched his heart. He’d never felt such care or comfort in a woman’s hands. Hands that could heal wounds he couldn’t see but carried with him every day of his life.
“Jane was a lucky woman.” Lisa lifted her chin, sincerity shining in her eyes.
“I killed her, Lisa.”
“No, you didn’t.” She pressed a kiss over his heart. “You loved her and you were stuck. Sometimes people we love get into situations where they’re just stuck, Mark.”
“I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”
“For good reason. You were pinned down.” Lisa cupped his face in her hands. “If you’d gone to her, what would have happened?”
“We’d both have been killed.”
“And what purpose would have been served in that?”
“I wouldn’t feel.” He couldn’t say it. Wouldn’t.
“Guilty?” Lisa studied his face, and compassion burned in her eyes. Finally, he nodded and she went on. “I feel the same way about my mother. But I know I can’t be all and do all; I’m human and I have limitations. So do you.”
“I should have tried.”
“You’d be dead.” Lisa hugged him hard, as if trying to take his pain into her and relieve him of it. “You couldn’t die then because if you had, you wouldn’t be here now.” She pulled back, picked up a sand dollar, dusted the sand from it with her fingertips, and then passed it to him. “Whenever you think about this, I want you to think about me holding this shell. When I do, it’ll be because I’m scared or worried.”
“I don’t want to think about you being scared or worried, Lisa.”
“I wasn’t finished.” She tapped his chin. “Think about me holding this and it reminding me that you’re here, and because you are, I’m not so scared. I’m not so worried. I’m not alone—and neither are you.”
It was more than he dared to dream he’d receive from her. Far more. “You’ll be there for me?” He tried but failed to keep his surprise out of his voice.
“Yes.” She sounded as breathless as he felt.
He wanted to kiss her. Needed to kiss her, and she looked as if she wanted to be kissed, but— He hesitated, weighing the costs. He didn’t dare.
The moment was gone.
She bent down and lifted her sandals. He got his shoes and they walked on.
Two steps, and Lisa reached over and clasped their pinkie fingers.
He looked at their joined hands and smiled. “This is new.”
She smiled over at him, a little bittersweet. “It’s special.”
“Meaning just for me?” he asked, then kicked himself for it.
“You and my mother.” Her voice softened even more. “From the time I was little, it was our way of saying we were there for each other.”
Touched, he stopped and stroked her face. “I’m here for you, Lisa. I’ll always be here for you.”
“Hey, Mark, are you okay?”
Startled, Mark jerked himself from the memory and looked into Megan’s questioning eyes. “What?”
Smacking her chewing gum, she tilted her head. A riot of red curls sprang out in all directions. She was about Mel’s age, but they were nothing alike. Megan thrived on gossip. “I said do you want a refill on your coffee?” She motioned with the pot.
“Um, no. Just the bill.”
She fished it out of her pocket and pressed it down on the table. “I was real sorry to hear about Annie and Lisa. How are they doing?”
“No news.”
Megan nodded, frowning. “Keep us posted. Everyone’s waiting for word.”
“I will.” Mark paid the bill and covered the tip, then slid out of the booth. On his way to the door, he dropped the sand dollar back into its box, then pocketed it. When had the place filled up?
He nodded to those he recognized, then left Ruby’s and headed back to the hospital.
Back on the second floor, he spotted Joe in the hallway. “I’m fine,” he said before Joe could ask.
Joe dipped his chin and glared at him. “You’re not resting.”
“I need to check on Annie first, then I will.” Mark stepped around the edge of the station desk, dumped some trash from the car into the can, and then headed for the big wooden doors to the unit.
Rose stood inside the hub with one hand on the emergency buzzer. When she saw Mark, she relaxed and went back to entering something in her computer.
Glad to see her on her toes, Mark glanced over. Sam stood beside Annie’s bed, his cap low over his eyes, his back to the wall. Annie lay still on the narrow bed. Battered and hooked up to machines with tubes and wires everywhere, she seemed so small and frail. What kind of man could justify hurting a woman like that?
Pity and rage warred in Mark, and he had to get his emotions under control. They didn’t go down easy, but when he sealed them up, he walked over to her bedside.
“No change.” Sam kept his voice just above a whisper.
“Take a break and get some breakfast. I’ll stay until you get back.”
“Any word yet on Lisa?”
Mark shook his head. “None I care to repeat.”
“Think steel, bud. She’s tough and smart. She’ll help us find her. Joe’s working the phones, calling everyone short of the president. If there’s info to be had, we’ll get it.”
Sam meant well. Thinking steel was good advice. Getting emotional during crises led to mistakes. Mistakes led to deaths. But this was about Lisa, the woman who held his heart. And he wasn’t sure he’d want to be the kind of man who under these circumstances could follow that advice anyway. But he kept those thoughts to himself. “Thanks, Sam.”
“You bet, bud. Back in fifteen.” He clapped Mark’s shoulder and then left the unit.
Mark studied Annie, praying Sam was right and they’d get a break. He pulled Lisa’s ring out of his pocket. “I’ve got your ring, Annie. Lisa left it for me to find. She’s smart, you know. Sam’s right. She will find a way to help us locate her.”
As he searched her pasty, still face, a fresh wave of regret washed over him. It seeped deep inside and soaked his bones. Lisa’s voice sounded in his mind. “My mama says a lady never attends a social gatherin’ without a proper manicure.”
Annie’s nails were cracked. Several were broken down to the quick until they had bled.
She’d fought and fought hard.
“You were counting on me to keep you both safe, and I let you down.” His throat went thick, his voice hollowed. He blinked hard and fast. “I’m sorry, Annie. If I had come after you myself, we wouldn’t be in this position. What’s happened to you and Lisa—it’s my fault.”
A tear trickled down his cheek. “I love your daughter, you know. I’ve been in love with her since the first time I saw her. She was at the center, and a guy came in demanding to see his wife. Mel called Lisa, and she came out of her office. He gave her a hard time and took a swing at her. Before I could get to her, Lisa had cleaned his clock and I’d fallen in love.”
The memory burned bittersweet. “I love you too, Annie.” He lightly skimmed her short gray curls, careful not to bump the tubes jutting out from her body. “They say you have a weak heart, but your heart is the strongest one I’ve ever seen. It was strong enough to protect Lisa when it meant giving her up. I don’t know how you stood that, but I know you did it for her, to protect her from Dutch. And loving her as much as you do, I’m sure you’ve cried a lot of nights.”
He studied the thin gold band, his blurred vision distorting it. “I promise, I’ll find her, Annie. If I have to spend the rest of my life looking for her, I will. I’ll never give up. Never. You have my word on that.”
Needing the reassurance of touch, he crooked his little finger and clasped it with Annie’s. “Lisa loves you, you know. At the party, for the first time I thought maybe one day she could love me too. Now the odds of earning even a little of her love, well, they’re shot.” His big body quaked. He rolled his shoulders, stretching to absorb the pain pounding through him in waves.
He cleared his throat, his anguish billowing. “I don’t know why I fail the women I most care for and destroy their lives, Annie—Jane, Lisa, you.” Guilt slumped his shoulders. “But I will bring your baby back to you. So help me, I will.” Another tear leaked from his eye and splashed on his cheek, then rolled down his face. “You have to do your part and be here, okay?”
He bent low, whispered close to her ear, “Remember how strong your heart is. Annie, wake up. Please, wake up and tell us what happened to you. I need to know what you don’t want Lisa to remember. Don’t you dare give up, you hear me? You have to fight for you and Lisa.”
He looked down at their hooked fingers. “And don’t die, Annie. Please, don’t die on me too. I’ll never forgive myself, and Lisa will live every day of her life believing she’s to blame.” Mark whispered that with the authority of one tormented by living it. “She’ll hate me forever, and I’ll have lost all of you.” Oh, God, please . Mark sniffed, forced strength into his voice. “Your days as Dutch’s prisoner are over. You can live your life any way you want. You’re free now.”
Her finger bumped against his.
Startled, he jerked up straight. “Annie?” He stared down at their hands. Hers rested against the white sheets so still. Had he imagined the movement? God knew he wanted it, begged for it, prayed for it. Maybe he imagined it. “Annie, did you move your finger?”
He waited. And waited. “Annie, please. Please.”
Again, the tip of her little finger curled and touched against his.
Relief burst inside him. He swung his gaze toward the nurses’ station and called out, “Rose, come quick! Annie moved!”