The Right Woman

“Why?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m burned out and I’ve had my fill of seeing victims like Brooke Wallace. The good guys are losing and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just have to get away.”

“I hope it’s not because of something I said.”

“Don’t worry, Sarah. I have a very thick skin.” He glanced toward Brooke’s door. “I hope you’re able to help her.”

Sarah followed his gaze. “Me, too.”

His eyes caught hers. “But who’s going to help you?”

She glanced down at her hands. “You’re doing it again.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just part of my nature, but I can see you haven’t dealt with the past.”

“That doesn’t concern you.” She gripped her hands together.

“You’re right about that, too. Just remember that Rudy Boyd isn’t worth the pain you’re putting yourself through.”

“I…”

“Goodbye, Sarah. Have a good life.” He turned and headed for the emergency room doors.

Outside, he sucked the frigid January air into his lungs, letting it cool the heated emotions inside him. For the first time in ages he felt good about himself. He wasn’t exactly clear about the future. He might take a cruise or go fishing on the Texas coast. He just wanted to get away from the darker side of life and to find some sunshine. He wanted to laugh, to feel happiness again. All that was out there—he just had to find what was right for him.

Zipping his bomber jacket, he headed for his car thinking that, at forty, a man shouldn’t have to find himself. He should already know who he was. But all Daniel felt was a discontentment he couldn’t shake. And Sarah Welch had been a big part of that.

Now he planned to put her out of his mind, out of his future.

SARAH WATCHED DANIEL leave with mixed feelings. She didn’t want to run into him all the time, but she didn’t want him to quit his job, either. He was a good cop—even she knew that. An uneasiness settled in her stomach as she hoped she’d had nothing to do with his decision. But she felt she had.

She picked up her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder. She’d had this strange relationship with Daniel since her involvement with Greg and Boyd.

Relationship? She wasn’t sure what else to call it. All of a sudden, he was in her life. He was kind, understanding and supportive of the trauma she’d been through—and that’s what irritated her. She obviously blamed him for Greg’s death. That had become clearer as the years had passed. She knew, though, that it hadn’t been Daniel’s fault. She and Greg had lied to him. Daniel had no idea she’d been living in the apartment with Greg, who had gone to great lengths to ensure Daniel wouldn’t find out. Daniel would never have allowed her to be in that situation. She’d wondered several times over the past years why Greg had. Love. They’d been so in love that nothing else had mattered—not even their safety.

He’d been her fiancé, yet she couldn’t even conjure up Greg’s face anymore. It was a blur, just the way she wanted the past to be. She’d made so many mistakes.

At thirty-one she should have been wiser, should have been more attuned to the danger Greg had put her in. But sometimes emotions were hard to control. Like now, at thirty-six, she was beginning to acknowledge that she’d made another mistake in blaming Daniel for Greg’s death. She’d been more responsible than Daniel. She’d been the one to persuade Greg to let her tag along. And Rudy Boyd… Nauseating feelings welled in her stomach at the mere thought of him. Sometimes when she closed her eyes, she could feel his disgusting hands on her body. She fought the image—as she always did.

She swallowed, admitting something else to herself: Daniel’s kindness irritated her because he shouldn’t be kind to her at all. He should be upset with her for her involvement. Yet he’d never said a word. That was Daniel, though. He was as gentle and caring with Brooke as he’d been with Sarah. If Daniel left, there’d be too many cops like Russ Devers in charge.

Now what did she do? She didn’t want to talk to him yet she didn’t want him to quit his job, either. That left only one option.

Daniel Garrett, why can’t you stay out of my life?

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace came out of the room and Sarah turned her attention to them. Bob Wallace walked off down the hall, a shattered expression on his face, and Lois came up to her.

“I want to stay with my daughter, but she said for me to go home. I’m not sure what to do.”

“If she wants you to go home, then that’s probably best,” Sarah told the woman whose eyes were filled with tears.

“I don’t want her to be alone.” Lois twisted her hands in agitation.

“I’ll stay until she falls asleep,” Sarah offered.

“Thank you. That makes me feel better.” Lois glanced toward her husband. “Bob’s having a difficult time. She’s his little girl, his tomboy. She does everything with her father—fishing, riding four-wheelers and the yard work.” Lois wiped at her eyes. “I’m not sure how to help him. I don’t even know how to handle the rage inside myself.”

“It will take time, Mrs. Wallace. Just be there for each other and for Brooke. Listen and be supportive without being critical.”

“I’ll try. I don’t understand why this happened to my daughter. She’s a good kid. She’s never given us any problems and now…” Her words trailed away.

Sarah put a comforting arm around her, realizing for the first time that this was probably how Celia and Gran felt after her rescue from Boyd. They’d wanted her to talk, but she would only talk to Serena. She hoped they’d be as patient with Brooke as her family had been with her.

“We have two more daughters at home. What do I tell them?”

“Just be honest and reassuring.”

Lois wiped her eyes again. “Please help my daughter.”

Sarah patted her shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”

Lois nodded, walked to where her husband stood, and they left the emergency area.

Dr. Daley motioned to Sarah. “I got the toxicology report back—a very small trace of heroin. Evidently she must have been fighting so hard he couldn’t get a full dose into her arm. I just gave her a sedative so she should be asleep soon.”

“Thanks, Jim. I’ll check on her.”

She took a deep breath and entered the room. Brooke was back in a fetal position staring at the wall. Sarah sat in the chair by the bed.

“Did they leave?” Brooke asked.

“Yes. Your parents have gone home.”

“My father…he…he couldn’t even look at me.”

“He’s just upset at what’s been done to you and your life. You’re still his little girl.”

“No, I’m not.” Brooke pleated the sheet with her bruised fingers. “I’m not a girl anymore. That’s been taken from me. I’m different now. Daddy knows it and I know it.”

“I’m not going to lie and sugarcoat what’s happened to you. Life will be different and it’s up to you how different it will be. I can see you have enormous inner strength, that’s why you fought so hard to live, and that strength will see you through. You have two parents who love you, which will be a tremendous help in the days ahead.”

“Did your parents help you?”

“No. My parents were dead. They died the day I was born.”

“Oh. What happened?”

“It’s a long, complicated story, Brooke.”