“It would also explain why there hadn’t been a ransom request. If it was her, she intended to keep Dylan and add him to her family. That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?”
“Shannon, stop speculating. Like I said, let the FBI do their work.”
She paused, turning it all over in her mind. “Does Sawyer know?”
“No. Leary wants to verify that Lilly Harris is in fact Jeannette Evans, before throwing this curveball at him.”
“But...”
“I understand what you’re thinking. He has a right to know. Leary’s fairly certain it’s her. Having some time to prepare before they confirm might help him deal with it.”
Shannon nodded mutely, although she wondered if there could be any way to prepare for the shock of his wife not only being alive, but married and with kids. She didn’t even want to think about the abduction.
“This is against procedure.” Logan sighed. “If you want to inform him, I’ll take the heat from Leary, if there is any.”
Shannon glanced down at her hands and noticed that she’d been squeezing them together so hard her knuckles had gone white. She relaxed her grip. How was she supposed to tell the man she was in love with that the woman he’d loved and still had feelings for, the mother of the child he adored, was more than likely alive and living in Arizona? And if so, that she could be responsible for having abducted his son.
Shannon had to question—if she was the messenger, would he hate her for it?
But how could she claim to care about him and not want to be the person to deliver this devastating news?
Either way, it would probably be the death knell for their relationship.
“It’s not your responsibility,” Logan said softly. “I wanted to give you the option, but you don’t have to do it. Leary will tell him what he needs to know in due course.”
Shannon sucked in a huge breath. “I want to do it. Thank you for giving me the opportunity.”
Logan picked up a sheet of paper from his desk, stared at it. With a grim look on his face, he held it out to her.
She took the paper and it fluttered in her shaking hand.
It was a printout of a Facebook page. The woman was smiling broadly, a toddler leaning on her thigh and a baby cradled in her arm.
She’d seen the pictures of Jeannette in Sawyer’s house. She knew this picture was of Jeannette, but in it she looked even more beautiful.
She raised her eyes to meet Logan’s. “This is Jeannette Evans.” She handed the paper back to him.
“As I said, Leary’s certain, too, otherwise I wouldn’t have suggested you say anything to Sawyer. When you do speak to him about this, remember we deal in facts, not half-truths. Tell him only what we know.”
“Understood,” she said and left his office.
At her desk, she collapsed into her chair.
“Problem, Shannon?” Rick asked from behind his desk.
Shannon closed her eyes. “Why did Cal and Jess have to take those two weeks in July to go on vacation?”
Rick laughed. “You’re begrudging Cal time off with his family?” Before she could answer, his face sobered and he continued. “Looking at you, I’m guessing something has come up in the Dylan Evans case and it’s not good news.”
“You got that right. Actually, it’s not so much not good news as...I’m floored.”
“Do you want to go get a coffee and talk about it?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
Rick got up, sat in Cal’s chair and rolled it over to her desk. “Okay, but talking it through might help.”
Maybe he had a point. “The FBI thinks they’ve located Sawyer’s ex-wife—wife, actually, since they never got divorced... If she is alive, it’s probable that she’s behind the abduction.”
“Huh. That’s a tough one.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Hey,” Rick said in a cheerful voice. “I was going to grill a couple of steaks for Madison and me. You interested in coming over for dinner?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll take a rain check, if that’s okay.” She cast her eyes downward. “I need to see Sawyer.”
Rick rose and pushed the chair back. “Okay, but if you want to stop by later, we’ll be there. It’s easy enough to toss another steak on the grill.”
“Thanks,” Shannon said, and watched him walk back to his own desk. A lump formed in her throat. She had wonderful colleagues. Her dream job was hers and she loved it. Maybe she just wasn’t meant to have a relationship. Or at least not with Sawyer.
She felt an ache settle in her heart. Doing her best to ignore it, she reached for the phone to call Sawyer.
* * *
THAT EVENING, SHANNON parked the Explorer in Sawyer’s driveway. She sat for a moment, staring at his house. She loved the look of it. The wide porch with the comfortable chairs. The neat lawn and colorful gardens. Last night when she’d fantasized about a future for them, she’d gone as far as imagining herself in this house with Sawyer and Dylan. That just brought another pang of pain and regret over what might have been. They hadn’t even talked about love, let alone marriage, so she’d been getting way ahead of herself.
In fact, the only time Sawyer had spoken of love, he’d been talking about Dylan...and Jeannette.
“Oh, God.” How was she supposed to do this? Maybe it should’ve been Logan. Or she should have let normal procedure take its course, and left it to Special Agent Leary. Both Logan and the FBI agent had been the bearers of bad news too many times before, but that meant they’d know how to be sensitive. Had she made a huge mistake accepting Logan’s offer to let her do it? Would her inexperience cause her to bungle it and make matters worse for Sawyer? She rubbed at her eyes.
She was thankful that when she’d called Sawyer, she’d at least had the foresight to ask him to have his sister or parents take Dylan for the evening. Sawyer had sounded hesitant but he’d agreed. That was a small blessing, since she couldn’t anticipate how he’d react to her bombshell. She thought it best not to have his son within earshot.
Shannon walked slowly up the porch steps to Sawyer’s front door. She wiped her damp palms on her pants before knocking. She tried to remember the words she’d settled on and had practiced on the drive over, but her memory was suddenly blank. When Sawyer opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, looking rumpled but impossibly handsome, she nearly panicked and ran.
He showed surprise at seeing her in her uniform, but leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.
She wanted to step forward and into his embrace but knew it wouldn’t be right until she’d told him what she’d come to say. And the purpose of this visit was not for him to console her. Just the opposite. If there was any way he could be comforted after the information she was about to drop on him, she’d do her best.
When Rufus bounded over with surprising energy for his size, she squatted down to rub behind his ears. The big goofy smile, lolling tongue and rapidly wagging tail told her he was happy in his new home. Sawyer spontaneously stroked the dog’s head, which conveyed that Rufus had won him over, too.
“There’s something wrong,” he said flatly.
She rose and brushed unsuccessfully at the copious amount of dog hair on her pants. Rufus was a shedder, no question. “Can we go in and sit down?”
Sawyer eased back and narrowed his eyes. “Sure,” he said. “What can I get you?”
“Water would be great,” she responded and followed him into the kitchen. She perched on a stool by the counter and watched him take a glass from the cupboard, fill it with ice and then water.
He passed it to her, rested his palms on the counter and leaned forward. “This isn’t a social call, is it?”
“No. Could you sit down, please?”
“I’m fine standing.” His
words had an edge to them. He must have realized it, because his tone softened when he continued. “You ask me to get Meg to take Dylan for the evening, making me think...well, making me think. You show up on my doorstep in uniform, acting as if you’ve just lost your best friend, and you want me to sit down before we talk? I can put two and two together, and I know this has to do with Dylan’s abduction and it’s not good news. So please get on with it.”
Shannon pushed her glass away and looked Sawyer straight in the eye. “The FBI believes they’ve found your wife.”
The emotions that played across his face could have been comical except that they cut through her like a sharp knife. The expression that settled was a mixture of hope and disbelief. He groped for a stool and finally sat down. “They think Jeannette is alive?”
Shannon nodded.
“Where? How can I contact her?” His words came out in a mad rush.
Shannon hadn’t known how he’d react, but she hadn’t expected this hopeful eagerness. He must never have stopped loving Jeannette—even now, when she was a possible suspect in his son’s abduction.
“Sawyer, you can’t contact her because she’s a person of interest in a police investigation. Normally, this information wouldn’t be shared with you at this stage.” She took a deep breath and went on in a less officious tone. “Contacting her could interfere with the investigation. Sawyer, we have to determine if she was in any way involved in Dylan’s abduction.”
He shook his head and jumped off the stool. “No! I can’t believe that. I knew Jeannette nearly half her life. I’ve thought about it.” His laugh was brittle. “Incessantly, since the possibility was raised. She wouldn’t be capable of doing it. It’s not in her makeup.”
Shannon’s immediate impulse was to ask if he’d thought her capable of deserting him and Dylan the way she had, but knew there was nothing to be gained by that. “The FBI still needs to eliminate her as a suspect. For now, all I know is that they think they found her.”
“What can you tell me?”
“She’s living in Wickenburg, Arizona. Under a different name.”
She watched the realization—and the pain—register on his face. Logan had said the FBI agents were of the opinion that it took some doing to establish her new identity. Sawyer would know that, too. But it wasn’t relevant to their discussion and went against Logan’s advice to stay with the facts. Shannon had an urge to hold him. To give him at least that much comfort. But she didn’t want to blur the line. She was here in an official capacity. “FBI Special Agent Leary is on his way to see her now.” She glanced at her watch. “He might be there already.”
Sawyer stepped back, bumped into a stool, sat down. “Okay.” His face had gone pale. His eyes were shadowed. “Can I see her or maybe talk to her after the FBI has?”
“I don’t know. They might not want you to contact her until the investigation is over, but I’ll ask.”
“Can...can you tell me the name she’s using?”
“Sawyer...”
“I won’t try to find her or contact her. You have my word. I’m a lawyer and I know the consequences if I interfere with the investigation. Just give me a name.”
Maybe she could give him that much. It would be her neck on the line—if he did use the information to get in touch with Jeannette, but she had to trust him. There was no guile in his eyes. Just pain. “Lilly Michelle Harris.”
He rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. “Thank you,” he murmured.
And now Shannon had to deliver the hardest blow of all. She skirted the counter and sat on the stool next to his. Blurred lines be damned. She reached for his hands and felt the chill that must have invaded his whole body.
“Sawyer, she’s married and has two young children.”
His mouth worked as if he was gasping for air as a drowning man might. He withdrew his hands from hers and staggered to his feet. She’d seen him suffering and in grief, but she hadn’t seen him cry the entire time she’d known him despite everything he’d had to bear.
Until now.
A single tear coursed down his cheek.
She closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him. When he held on tightly, she shed silent tears of her own.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAWYER COULDN’T BELIEVE that Jeannette had purposely left him and Dylan, and never bothered to contact him, even if only to let him know she was okay. Worse yet, instead of having the courage to say she wanted out of their marriage, she’d just disappeared, leaving him to search and mourn and finally conclude that she’d died somehow, somewhere, tragically.
And for what? To marry someone else and start another family?
Anger sparked and burned hot and intense inside him.
Sawyer released Shannon, spun away from her and strode to the glass-paned door leading to the backyard. Rufus was sitting in front of it, looking outside expectantly. When Sawyer didn’t slide the door open, the dog gave a little huff and slunk away to curl up on his dog bed in a corner of the room.
Had Jeannette known the man she was with now? Had she left him to marry this man?
And if she had a new family and was happy, would she have taken Dylan?
No. Even if she was guilty of leaving him for another man in the most cowardly and insensitive manner possible, he couldn’t believe Jeannette would be capable of taking their son from him like that.
But he never would have believed her capable of deserting him the way she had, either.
The fury, the recriminations, the disbelief were all churning inside him, threatening to explode. “I need to think all of this over.”
He heard Shannon’s stool scrape back. “Sawyer...”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He didn’t turn around until he heard the front door close behind her.
He called Meg and asked if she’d mind keeping Dylan overnight.
He got a beer from the refrigerator, popped the top, then took it and a framed picture of Jeannette and him on their wedding day outside with him.
He placed the picture on the table and took a long drink.
Why had the woman he loved left him and her child the way she had?
There were no answers. None that made sense.
He struggled even more with the thought of her kidnapping Dylan.
When he finished his beer, he went inside for another. This time he brought Rufus out with him. The dog must’ve been well aware of his mood, since he was reluctant to go with him at first. A large Milk-Bone provided the needed incentive, but Rufus still kept a reasonable distance between himself and Sawyer, curling up in the far corner of the deck to feast on his treat.
Now he was scaring their dog.
Sawyer rose and sat down next to Rufus. “It’s okay, big guy. My mood’s got nothing to do with you.” He leaned back against the wall, handed the dog another treat and scratched behind his ear.
With his free hand, Sawyer reached for the bottle again. He wasn’t someone who overindulged. The only times he’d been drunk in his life were at a frat party in university and the day after Jeannette had disappeared.
Tonight? Well, tonight might be the third time. How much worse could things get? Sawyer pushed off the deck and stalked to the edge of the patio, then back to the table. He lifted up the silver frame.
Jeannette was beautiful. She always had been. He’d remembered thinking she was the prettiest girl in school. But it was her heart, her compassion and decency that had truly captured him.
In the picture, she was wearing a sleek, white gown, with a lace overlay and a long flowing veil. She was gazing up at him and laughing. He remembered that heady summer day six years ago as if it was yesterday.
But looking at her picture now...he no longer felt that all-consuming love.
What if she was alive? Putting aside for the moment that she was married—to someone else—could they go back, he and Jeannette? Were second chances possible?
As he tried to picture marriage with Jeannette—past or future—he couldn’t seem to.
Shannon kept intruding on his thoughts.
And remorse seared through him.
When the doorbell rang, Rufus gave out a machine-gunfire series of barks, and the frame slipped out of Sawyer’s hand, smashing on the deck. “Great. Just great,” he mumbled.
Rufus barked again, and the instant Sawyer slid the patio door open, he raced to the front hall. Sawyer followed him. Opening the door and seeing Meghan standing there, he looked around anxiously.
“Hey, Rufus! How’s he doing?” she asked Sawyer, bending over to lavish the dog with attention.
“Can we talk about the dog later? Where’s Dylan?” Sawyer asked, panic threatening to paralyze him.
“He’s fine. I left him in my car for a moment,” she said, quick to reassure him. “Nice to see you, too,” she added and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“What are you doing here?” Sawyer demanded.
“Shannon called me.”
“What? Why?”
“She thought you shouldn’t be alone right now. But she didn’t say why. Let me bring Dylan in. We’ll get him settled in his room and then you can explain.”
Sawyer went to get Dylan from Meg’s car. Together, they got him ready for bed and left him in his room watching a show on Sawyer’s iPad, Rufus by his side. Sawyer closed his bedroom door and trailed his sister down the hall. She knew her way around his kitchen and wasted no time pouring herself a glass of wine. She held the bottle toward him.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a beer going outside.” He followed Meg again as she headed to the patio.
“So, what’s got Shannon worried enough to look up my number and call me?” she asked, as she stood at the edge of the deck and leaned against the railing.
“Nothing.” Everything. But he didn’t think he had it in him to talk about it right then.