other end. “Forty-eight hours.”
Forty-eight hours?
The deadline seemed both too close and too far away. This man, whoever he was, wanted to hold her sister for another two days. Meredith wanted to see Tamara right that second. To count every hair on her little sister’s head. Forty-eight hours would be tortuous. But on the other hand, the man also wanted her to track down some file she’d never even heard of—and for that, two days hardly seemed long enough at all.
But she made herself speak calmly. “Once I have the file, what do you want me to do with it?”
“I’ll call you with the instructions. Keep this line open. And one other thing, Ms. Jamison... The present company you’re keeping? The ex-cop? Not the best choice under the circumstances.”
What did he mean? Once again, Meredith had no idea. And even if she’d wanted to ask, she couldn’t. The line clicked, leaving her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
* * *
Sam paced the length of the bedroom.
He’d all but chased out the bellhop, and now that the kid was gone, he kind of wished he hadn’t left. It would’ve given him someone to yell at.
Because Meredith sure as hell wasn’t listening.
She was on her damn phone. Her very traceable phone.
“Bloody hell.”
He paused and stared at the bathroom door. He knew exactly who’d called, too. He didn’t even have to ask. He resumed striding back and forth across the room.
“I should be the one asking questions and taking the ransom demand,” he muttered.
It was what he did. What he’d lived for as a cop. And besides that...he wanted to be the buffer between Meredith and whoever had her sister. Had to be.
Dammit.
He moved toward the door, fist raised again. Before he could knock once more, it swung open. Meredith stood on the other side, her beautiful face an ashen mess. She looked truly vulnerable for the first time since they’d met.
“Sam,” she said. “They have Tamara and I don’t think I can do what they need me to do in order to save her.”
Wordlessly, he opened his arms. She fell into them, and for several long moments, he held her pressed to his chest, smoothing her hair and offering what comfort he could. He knew true comfort wouldn’t come until her sister was safe and sound. Which could only happen if they stayed safe themselves.
“Sweetheart, you need to give me the phone,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“You have to. We don’t know what kind of tracking abilities they have. If they’ve got access to police resources—”
“I can’t . This phone is the one they’re going to use to call me back. If I give it to you...”
Sam’s jaw stiffened. Whoever had Tamara Billing had effectively handcuffed them, and at the same time given themselves a perfect way to track them. He leaned away from Meredith, prepared to tell her they had no choice. Instead, the utter heartbreak on her face stopped him short. He knew they’d have to find another way of staying off the radar.
“I feel so helpless,” she said. “So responsible.”
“This isn’t your fault, Meredith.”
“You’ve known me for five seconds, Sam. You have no idea what this feels like.”
“Try me.”
“It’s like you said. I’m proud of her and envious at the same time. More than envious. Crazy jealous. I’ve always resented everything she’s accomplished. So much that the more she succeeded, the more distance I put between us, and now...”
Sam pulled away, this time a bit farther. “Maybe I’ve known you for five seconds, but I know exactly what this feels like. You’re scared and guilty and frustrated and questioning every decision you’ve made for not just the last few hours, but for the last few years.”
Meredith’s face grew speculative, and Sam wished he hadn’t spoken. Or at least not said quite so much.
“You do know, don’t you?” Meredith’s voice was soft. “How?”
“Because...” Sam swallowed. Because I went through it. Because I lost her.
He
Forty-eight hours?
The deadline seemed both too close and too far away. This man, whoever he was, wanted to hold her sister for another two days. Meredith wanted to see Tamara right that second. To count every hair on her little sister’s head. Forty-eight hours would be tortuous. But on the other hand, the man also wanted her to track down some file she’d never even heard of—and for that, two days hardly seemed long enough at all.
But she made herself speak calmly. “Once I have the file, what do you want me to do with it?”
“I’ll call you with the instructions. Keep this line open. And one other thing, Ms. Jamison... The present company you’re keeping? The ex-cop? Not the best choice under the circumstances.”
What did he mean? Once again, Meredith had no idea. And even if she’d wanted to ask, she couldn’t. The line clicked, leaving her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
* * *
Sam paced the length of the bedroom.
He’d all but chased out the bellhop, and now that the kid was gone, he kind of wished he hadn’t left. It would’ve given him someone to yell at.
Because Meredith sure as hell wasn’t listening.
She was on her damn phone. Her very traceable phone.
“Bloody hell.”
He paused and stared at the bathroom door. He knew exactly who’d called, too. He didn’t even have to ask. He resumed striding back and forth across the room.
“I should be the one asking questions and taking the ransom demand,” he muttered.
It was what he did. What he’d lived for as a cop. And besides that...he wanted to be the buffer between Meredith and whoever had her sister. Had to be.
Dammit.
He moved toward the door, fist raised again. Before he could knock once more, it swung open. Meredith stood on the other side, her beautiful face an ashen mess. She looked truly vulnerable for the first time since they’d met.
“Sam,” she said. “They have Tamara and I don’t think I can do what they need me to do in order to save her.”
Wordlessly, he opened his arms. She fell into them, and for several long moments, he held her pressed to his chest, smoothing her hair and offering what comfort he could. He knew true comfort wouldn’t come until her sister was safe and sound. Which could only happen if they stayed safe themselves.
“Sweetheart, you need to give me the phone,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“You have to. We don’t know what kind of tracking abilities they have. If they’ve got access to police resources—”
“I can’t . This phone is the one they’re going to use to call me back. If I give it to you...”
Sam’s jaw stiffened. Whoever had Tamara Billing had effectively handcuffed them, and at the same time given themselves a perfect way to track them. He leaned away from Meredith, prepared to tell her they had no choice. Instead, the utter heartbreak on her face stopped him short. He knew they’d have to find another way of staying off the radar.
“I feel so helpless,” she said. “So responsible.”
“This isn’t your fault, Meredith.”
“You’ve known me for five seconds, Sam. You have no idea what this feels like.”
“Try me.”
“It’s like you said. I’m proud of her and envious at the same time. More than envious. Crazy jealous. I’ve always resented everything she’s accomplished. So much that the more she succeeded, the more distance I put between us, and now...”
Sam pulled away, this time a bit farther. “Maybe I’ve known you for five seconds, but I know exactly what this feels like. You’re scared and guilty and frustrated and questioning every decision you’ve made for not just the last few hours, but for the last few years.”
Meredith’s face grew speculative, and Sam wished he hadn’t spoken. Or at least not said quite so much.
“You do know, don’t you?” Meredith’s voice was soft. “How?”
“Because...” Sam swallowed. Because I went through it. Because I lost her.
He
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