best pancakes.”
“They were your favorite.”
“I haven’t eaten them since the morning I left for France.” Her voice cracked, and she looked away.
A rock settled in his stomach. She had been so excited that morning. The Trehans had given her a trip to France to celebrate her graduation from college, and she was bursting at the seams to go. He’d come home to see her off. They had gotten up early so he could cook her favorite breakfast, then he’d driven her to the airport. It was the last time he’d seen her.
The Jules who had left, the ready-to-take-on-the-world girl who wanted to do and see it all, was a far cry from the wounded woman he now faced.
He mixed the batter, adding the ingredients mechanically. At his side, his cell phone vibrated. Wiping his hands, he stole a quick glance at Jules before backing toward the pantry where he would be out of her sight. He snapped up the phone. “Make it quick,” he said in a low voice.
“You get to the cabin yet?”
“Yeah, we’re here.”
“You want what info I have now, or you want to call me back later?”
Manuel expelled a long rush of air. “Let me call you back. I want to hear what she has to say first.”
“Okay, give me a holler when you’re ready.”
“Is it bad?” Manuel asked, suddenly aware that he was holding his breath.
Silence settled over the line. “It ain’t exactly good,” Tony finally said. “By the way. A heads-up. Sanderson is going to give you a call in a few. He wants to know what the hell is going on. I’ve played dumb, but I know he’s not buying it.”
Manuel quietly ended the call and stuck the phone back in his pocket. Why it was so important that he hear it from Jules he wasn’t sure. But it had to come from her. He wanted to be looking her in the face when he found out what the hell had happened three years ago. And maybe he wanted to see how honest she would be with him.
On cue, the phone rang again. Manuel saw it was Sanderson and answered.
His boss cut straight to the point. “Manuel, what do you have to report?”
“Nothing yet, sir. I’m still in Denver.”
“Do you need more agents on this?” Sanderson asked.
Panic crept up Manuel’s spine. “No, sir. I want to do this. I need to. I’ll find her.”
“All right. Keep me posted. You’ve got three days, Manuel. Then I call in backup.”
The phone went dead, and Manuel cursed vividly under his breath. Three days. It wasn’t much time to cover three years. He shoved his phone in his pocket and went in search of Jules.
“Soup’s on,” he called, rounding the corner into the living room. He looked at the empty sofa. Fuck! He glanced around the room, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her standing by the fireplace.
“Jules?” He crossed the floor and put a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, her eyes flaring for a moment.
“Didn’t mean to startle you. Your pancakes are ready.”
She flashed a smile that didn’t reach any higher than the corners of her mouth. “Can’t wait.”
She followed him back and sat down at the table. He put a plate heaped high with pancakes in front of her then took a seat across from her.
He watched as she picked at the food, nibbling a few bites. She looked away most of the time, never at him, never meeting his gaze. Perhaps she knew the time had come.
Still, he waited. He wanted her to eat and relax her guard before they bared their souls. And truth be known, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what had happened to her. How cowardly of him to be so afraid to know what she had been forced to endure.
If she had been forced.
Her last words to him echoed in his mind, the phone call, the last time he’d spoken to her. Her fear, her terror. It ate at him. Had eaten at him for the last three years. He’d imagined the most awful scenarios, and he prayed that none of them were true.
When she finally shoved the plate away, she looked up at him, and he locked gazes with her. “You know it’s
“They were your favorite.”
“I haven’t eaten them since the morning I left for France.” Her voice cracked, and she looked away.
A rock settled in his stomach. She had been so excited that morning. The Trehans had given her a trip to France to celebrate her graduation from college, and she was bursting at the seams to go. He’d come home to see her off. They had gotten up early so he could cook her favorite breakfast, then he’d driven her to the airport. It was the last time he’d seen her.
The Jules who had left, the ready-to-take-on-the-world girl who wanted to do and see it all, was a far cry from the wounded woman he now faced.
He mixed the batter, adding the ingredients mechanically. At his side, his cell phone vibrated. Wiping his hands, he stole a quick glance at Jules before backing toward the pantry where he would be out of her sight. He snapped up the phone. “Make it quick,” he said in a low voice.
“You get to the cabin yet?”
“Yeah, we’re here.”
“You want what info I have now, or you want to call me back later?”
Manuel expelled a long rush of air. “Let me call you back. I want to hear what she has to say first.”
“Okay, give me a holler when you’re ready.”
“Is it bad?” Manuel asked, suddenly aware that he was holding his breath.
Silence settled over the line. “It ain’t exactly good,” Tony finally said. “By the way. A heads-up. Sanderson is going to give you a call in a few. He wants to know what the hell is going on. I’ve played dumb, but I know he’s not buying it.”
Manuel quietly ended the call and stuck the phone back in his pocket. Why it was so important that he hear it from Jules he wasn’t sure. But it had to come from her. He wanted to be looking her in the face when he found out what the hell had happened three years ago. And maybe he wanted to see how honest she would be with him.
On cue, the phone rang again. Manuel saw it was Sanderson and answered.
His boss cut straight to the point. “Manuel, what do you have to report?”
“Nothing yet, sir. I’m still in Denver.”
“Do you need more agents on this?” Sanderson asked.
Panic crept up Manuel’s spine. “No, sir. I want to do this. I need to. I’ll find her.”
“All right. Keep me posted. You’ve got three days, Manuel. Then I call in backup.”
The phone went dead, and Manuel cursed vividly under his breath. Three days. It wasn’t much time to cover three years. He shoved his phone in his pocket and went in search of Jules.
“Soup’s on,” he called, rounding the corner into the living room. He looked at the empty sofa. Fuck! He glanced around the room, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her standing by the fireplace.
“Jules?” He crossed the floor and put a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, her eyes flaring for a moment.
“Didn’t mean to startle you. Your pancakes are ready.”
She flashed a smile that didn’t reach any higher than the corners of her mouth. “Can’t wait.”
She followed him back and sat down at the table. He put a plate heaped high with pancakes in front of her then took a seat across from her.
He watched as she picked at the food, nibbling a few bites. She looked away most of the time, never at him, never meeting his gaze. Perhaps she knew the time had come.
Still, he waited. He wanted her to eat and relax her guard before they bared their souls. And truth be known, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what had happened to her. How cowardly of him to be so afraid to know what she had been forced to endure.
If she had been forced.
Her last words to him echoed in his mind, the phone call, the last time he’d spoken to her. Her fear, her terror. It ate at him. Had eaten at him for the last three years. He’d imagined the most awful scenarios, and he prayed that none of them were true.
When she finally shoved the plate away, she looked up at him, and he locked gazes with her. “You know it’s
Similar Books
