Free Sanders 01 - Silent Run by Barbara Freethy Page A

words reminded him that that girl could be his daughter. “Then he took a shot at someone."
    Dylan’s lips tightened. “Is that it?"
    â€œSarah saw blood, but that’s all she remembers. When she woke up, there was a man in her room trying to smother her with a pillow."
    â€œRight,” Dylan said. “Well, at least some information is coming back into her head. Although she never seems to remember enough, does she -- just little teasing bits. When did this alleged murder happen? While she was with you? After she left you?"
    â€œI think it was before she left me -- maybe the reason she ran."
    â€œIf it happened while she was with you, why wouldn’t she tell you, go to the police, ask for help?” Dylan gave a warning shake of his head. “Don’t start giving Sarah reasons for running off with your kid."
    â€œI’m putting the facts together."
    â€œJust don’t manipulate the facts to paint the picture you’re looking for. If you let that woman convince you that she’s some innocent --"
    â€œShe’s not going to convince me of anything that isn’t true,” Jake interrupted. “But I can’t ignore what Sarah tells me. My daughter’s life is at stake."
    Dylan nodded, conceding the point. “All right. It’s not much to go on, but I can look through the crime files. We might get lucky on the tattoo. It could represent some kind of gang affiliation. If it means something, I’ll figure it out.” He stopped talking as Sarah came through the door. “Was it the right wrist or the left?” he asked.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?"
    â€œThe tattoo on the arm of the killer in your dream."
    â€œYou told him about that?” she asked Jake.
    â€œWhy not? It might help us figure out who you are."
    â€œI guess,” she said. “It was the right wrist, I think... I don’t know. It’s hazy now."
    Jake could see that Sarah’s vague reply only deepened the skepticism in Dylan’s eyes.
    â€œOf course it’s hazy,” Dylan said. “What else would it be?"
    Sarah’s back stiffened. She shot Dylan an angry look. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not, but I’ve told the truth to every question that I’ve been asked since I woke up in this hospital room."
    Jake was surprised by Sarah’s strong response. It occurred to him that he’d never seen her react with anger toward anyone in the two years they’d been together. She’d always kept her feelings in check, her expression pleasant. She’d been a people pleaser, not someone who liked to stir things up, or even a person willing to continue an argument. She’d done everything she could to avoid conflict, usually by giving in.
    But this new Sarah, who couldn’t remember who she was, had also forgotten how to stay neutral, how to keep herself from showing emotion. In some odd way he thought he might be closer to getting to know the real her than he had ever been.
    Sarah slipped her feet into her tennis shoes and then sat down on the bed to lace them. Her hands shook, reminding Jake that she’d come very close to losing her life. She certainly wasn’t faking the bruises and the injuries she’d suffered, nor the pain in her eyes. He told himself not to feel sorry for her. Sarah deserved the same kind of pain he’d been living through for the past seven months and more.
    Sarah finished tying her shoes and stood up, facing him with determination in her blue eyes. “Where are we doing this?” she asked.
    â€œThere’s a conference room downstairs. It’s just going to be you, a reporter, and a cameraman."
    â€œYou’re not going to be part of the interview?"
    â€œI don’t want to confuse anyone by suggesting that we were together. We want the public to think about whether or not they saw you alone, or you and Caitlyn together."
    â€œThey’re going to put