what to expect, but he’d known Howard since Vietnam. They’d spent a year in a POW camp together. In all the years he’d known him, he’d never heard the other man sound unsure of himself. If it hadn’t been for his friend, he wouldn’t have been able to forge a new identity for Hope. They both owed each other in different ways, though Mac could never repay Howard. He might have saved Howard’s life, but Howard had given him the gift of Hope.
“Have you pulled it up yet?”
“Give me a sec…almost there.” Thank God for fast access internet. He scanned the message and uploaded the first attachment. His throat clenched. “Shit.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
“I’ll call you back.” Unable to say more, he hung up then opened up the rest of the attachments.
Articles and pictures dating back twenty-two years popped up. After a while he just scanned the headlines. Parents of Missing Girl Ask for Closure, Wealthy Family Offers Reward for Any Information… when he got to a current picture of the Santiagos, he thought his heart would give out. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The pixilation of the photo was grainy, taken through a telephoto lens if he had to guess. But the younger of the two women, the daughter, looked like Hope. Too much so for it to be a coincidence that they’d hired her.
Too many questions burned inside him. Hope said she’d grown up in foster care and he had believed her. No, he still believed her. She’d told him more than once she couldn’t remember most of her childhood, just the years in foster care and…after. For years, she’d kept a journal next to her nightstand to record dreams, but she’d given that up long ago. He rubbed a hand over his face and finished packing his suitcase. He might not be leaving now, but he had a feeling that Hope would need him soon and he planned to be ready.
* * * * *
Hope let the shower jets massage her aching shoulders and back. She was used to harder work with her underwater dives, but she’d been in the sun all day and was feeling unusually burned out. She supposed it was because of the nightmare. Whatever it was, a feeling of dread hung over her head that she couldn’t quite shake.
She could have finished a few hours ago, but in an effort to avoid Luke and the uncomfortable emotions he evoked, she’d taken about four hundred extra pictures. At least Mrs. Santiago would have a lot of prints to choose from. That was the reason she was here in the first place. Not to ogle over Luke’s ripped stomach and very kissable chest. While his body was certainly hot, that’s not what drew her to him.
The fact that he’d stayed in her room all night to make sure she was okay had totally taken her off guard. It had been sweet and at odds with what she’d expected from him.
When the water turned tepid she forced herself to get out. The small circular window in the bathroom told her it was near dusk and her stomach was growling embarrassingly loud. She pulled her damp hair into a low twist and changed into a lavender dress with Grecian flutter sleeves. She found Luke in the kitchen standing next to the stove, dicing green peppers.
“A man who cooks. I’m impressed.” She tried to keep her tone casual, hoping her attitude would prevent him from mentioning anything about the night before.
He shot her a quick glance before pushing the peppers to the side. “I don’t have anyone to cook for me so it was either learn or starve…or more likely live on takeout. What about you?” he asked as he pulled mushrooms and zucchini from the fridge.
“I’ve been cooking since I was ten.” The truth was she’d had to learn. At age ten, she’d been placed in a home run by an elderly woman. Looking back, she realized the woman had been in the beginning stages of dementia, but the state hadn’t cared. No one had. Like Luke said, she had to learn or she and the two younger girls living with her would have starved.
“Do you
“Have you pulled it up yet?”
“Give me a sec…almost there.” Thank God for fast access internet. He scanned the message and uploaded the first attachment. His throat clenched. “Shit.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
“I’ll call you back.” Unable to say more, he hung up then opened up the rest of the attachments.
Articles and pictures dating back twenty-two years popped up. After a while he just scanned the headlines. Parents of Missing Girl Ask for Closure, Wealthy Family Offers Reward for Any Information… when he got to a current picture of the Santiagos, he thought his heart would give out. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The pixilation of the photo was grainy, taken through a telephoto lens if he had to guess. But the younger of the two women, the daughter, looked like Hope. Too much so for it to be a coincidence that they’d hired her.
Too many questions burned inside him. Hope said she’d grown up in foster care and he had believed her. No, he still believed her. She’d told him more than once she couldn’t remember most of her childhood, just the years in foster care and…after. For years, she’d kept a journal next to her nightstand to record dreams, but she’d given that up long ago. He rubbed a hand over his face and finished packing his suitcase. He might not be leaving now, but he had a feeling that Hope would need him soon and he planned to be ready.
* * * * *
Hope let the shower jets massage her aching shoulders and back. She was used to harder work with her underwater dives, but she’d been in the sun all day and was feeling unusually burned out. She supposed it was because of the nightmare. Whatever it was, a feeling of dread hung over her head that she couldn’t quite shake.
She could have finished a few hours ago, but in an effort to avoid Luke and the uncomfortable emotions he evoked, she’d taken about four hundred extra pictures. At least Mrs. Santiago would have a lot of prints to choose from. That was the reason she was here in the first place. Not to ogle over Luke’s ripped stomach and very kissable chest. While his body was certainly hot, that’s not what drew her to him.
The fact that he’d stayed in her room all night to make sure she was okay had totally taken her off guard. It had been sweet and at odds with what she’d expected from him.
When the water turned tepid she forced herself to get out. The small circular window in the bathroom told her it was near dusk and her stomach was growling embarrassingly loud. She pulled her damp hair into a low twist and changed into a lavender dress with Grecian flutter sleeves. She found Luke in the kitchen standing next to the stove, dicing green peppers.
“A man who cooks. I’m impressed.” She tried to keep her tone casual, hoping her attitude would prevent him from mentioning anything about the night before.
He shot her a quick glance before pushing the peppers to the side. “I don’t have anyone to cook for me so it was either learn or starve…or more likely live on takeout. What about you?” he asked as he pulled mushrooms and zucchini from the fridge.
“I’ve been cooking since I was ten.” The truth was she’d had to learn. At age ten, she’d been placed in a home run by an elderly woman. Looking back, she realized the woman had been in the beginning stages of dementia, but the state hadn’t cared. No one had. Like Luke said, she had to learn or she and the two younger girls living with her would have starved.
“Do you
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