He had to take comfort in knowing that Dylan hadn’t been harmed the first time.
He had to trust that he wouldn’t be this time, either. He thought about calling Shannon, but he struggled with what to say to her. He had to take one step at a time.
He had to trust that the police were doing everything they could, and—if Bigelow came through as he’d promised—Sawyer would fly to Arizona as soon as possible to see Jeannette.
* * *
BIGELOW HAD ARRANGED the meeting. At Jeannette’s request, Sawyer was meeting her and her husband at a quiet restaurant not far from her home.
Because of the flight Sawyer had booked, he’d arrived nearly half an hour early. Then, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember what Jeannette looked like. Her hair had been a dark blond. He’d been told that now it was a reddish brown. But her eyes? Were they blue or gray? Were they almond-shaped?
Had he finally lost his mind?
He yanked out his iPhone and almost manically scrolled through his pictures.
Did he have pictures going three years back? Had he had the same phone?
He reached for his glass of water and drained it.
When he came across a series of shots of Jeannette, Dylan and him on the beach at El Coronado, he exhaled heavily.
And the memories came flooding back. Vivid and intense.
Jeannette sitting on their blanket on the sand, laughing up at him, Dylan held tenderly against her chest. She looked happy. And in love. He ran a finger across the screen. Down her cheek.
He remembered the love he’d felt for her, a faint echo now. A memory.
The loss saddened him.
He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.
When he opened his eyes again and saw Jeannette walking toward him, he thought he was imagining her.
Somehow, she looked the same but different. How was that possible?
The same long, straight hair. The lithe build. Her eyes. They were blue-gray.
But, as he already knew, her hair was a different color and parted on the wrong side. And she was wearing lipstick...and high heels. Something she’d rarely done when they were married.
Her face was expressionless, but her movements were stilted. Tense.
His attention shifted to the man walking behind her. He had a proprietary hand on her elbow.
Sawyer felt a stab of jealousy. Unreasonable though it was, it shot through him. Then he read a similar emotion on the other man’s face.
He wanted a confrontation, did he? Immediately, Sawyer felt contrite. Regardless of how it had happened, Jeannette was no longer his wife.
And the man? How must he feel learning that his wife had another, earlier husband and a child he hadn’t known about?
Detective Bigelow had told him the man’s name was Ronald.
Sawyer rose as they reached the table.
What did you do when you met your wife three years later? Your wife who was now a different person... Hug her? Shake her hand?
He settled on the latter.
He’d wondered what he’d feel when she laid her hand in his.
Regret. That was it. For what was and what could have been.
Ronald’s hand, when he shook it, was rigid, stiff. Was he threatened by Sawyer? He had no reason to be. He was Jeannette’s present; Sawyer was her past.
Should he make small talk? he wondered. He was at a loss as to how to start. It felt awkward all around.
“This is awkward.” Jeannette voiced his thought. “I’m sorry about that.” Her voice broke and her husband—Ron, he’d said, not Ronald—slid a protective arm around her shoulders. She glanced at him gratefully.
They loved each other, Sawyer realized. The look that passed between them left no doubt. She’d moved on, and that simple gesture of her husband’s told him he cared about her.
When the waitress stopped by, they ordered coffees, as well.
“Your son...um, our son, is missing?” she said, once they were alone again, with a quaver in her voice. “The FBI special agents didn’t tell me that when we met, but the detective who called me about meeting you said he thought I should know.”
“Yes.”
“He said that he’s been abducted again. I’m not sure how that could happen, but...I’m so sorry...”
“Thank you.” Sawyer didn’t know what else to say. It felt as if he was discussing Dylan’s abduction with a sympathetic stranger.
“Do you...” She turned to her husband, and he squeezed her shoulder. She looked back at Sawyer. “Do you have a picture of him? Of Dylan? The FBI agents showed me one, but they didn’t leave it with me.”
“Of course.” Sawyer ached for her as he got his phone again. The picture of the three of them on the beach was still on the screen.
No. That wasn’t right, to show her a picture of them together. He scrolled through his photographs and found a recent one of Dylan. He offered her the phone.
She took it in both hands and stared at the picture. Ron peered at it, too. Her eyes shone when she passed the phone back to Sawyer with trembling hands.
“He’s a beautiful boy. He looks happy.”
“He is,” Sawyer said, feeling thoroughly discomfited. “He was. Happy, that is...before...”
She nodded and clasped her husband’s hand.
Sawyer took a quick look at Dylan’s picture before he stuck his phone back in his pocket. “I was told a little about you, but I’d like to hear your side of it. Of what happened,” he said.
Jeannette—Lilly, he reminded himself that he had to think of her as Lilly now—went on to explain what Sawyer had mostly known. But she made it personal and his heart broke for her, for them...and for what they’d lost, he and Jeannette. When she was Jeannette.
“I had some bruises and abrasions, but the worst of it was the memory loss. At first, the doctors thought it would come back.”
“Lilly...” Ron said gently. “You don’t have to do this.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I do.” She held Sawyer’s gaze. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you,” Sawyer said again.
“I have permanent memory loss. The doctors ran test after test and concluded that the chances of regaining my memory are virtually nonexistent. Ron works at the hospital.” She sent him a smile. “He was there for me every step of the way. We fell in love. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but that’s what happened. I had no recollection of you or of anything prior to my accident. Ron proposed to me almost six months after I got out of the hospital.” She smiled at her husband warmly. “I accepted, on one condition.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow.
Ron picked up the story. “The condition was that we not get married for another six months. As unlikely as it was, she wanted to take that time to see if her memory would return. We tried to do everything we could to find out who Lilly was and where she’d come from. The police checked the missing persons’ databases. The fact that, unknown to us, she’d crossed state boundaries worked against us. We’ve made some inquiries since the special agents came to see us as to why there was no connection made. We don’t have an answer to that yet.”
“We tried. We really did...” Lilly said.
Sawyer could see how unsettling this was for her, too. “And I didn’t get my memory back,” she went on. “We didn’t discover anything that would have helped me find out who I was.”
Sawyer nodded. Through his pain, all he could think of was that waiting, in case any information came to light, had been decent of them.
“We married and I got pregnant almost right away. We have two children, Amie and Christopher.”
Sawyer couldn’t imagine her having two children but no memory of Dylan.
“Your
hair? Why did you dye it?” It seemed like an inconsequential question, but when he’d first learned of it, he’d wondered if it was because she’d been hiding.
Lilly touched a hand to her scalp. “I’m not entirely sure. Not remembering my past, it might have been a way of distancing myself from it. I used to stand in front of the mirror for long periods, staring at my own reflection, hoping that I’d remember who I was.”
Sawyer didn’t trust himself to speak, so he nodded.
“Can I ask you a question now?” she asked.
Sawyer shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“My family? Other than you and Dylan,” she added in a rush. “Can you tell me anything about my family?”
Sawyer told her as much as he could. Finally, at a loss for anything else to add, he asked to see a picture of their children. Two tousle-haired kids stared back at him from the screen of Jeannette’s...uh, Lilly’s phone. The baby was dark blond, as Jeannette was naturally. The older child, slightly darker haired, like her father. They resembled Dylan. No surprise, perhaps, because they were his half-siblings.
Lilly put her phone back in her purse and took Ron’s hand. “Honey, could you give Sawyer and me a moment alone?”
“I’ll wait in the car for you,” he responded, then rose. He touched her briefly on the shoulder and, with another nod at Sawyer, walked out of the restaurant.
Lilly took her napkin and started shredding it, while her eyes held Sawyer’s. “I want to be very clear with you about something, and I asked Ron to leave because I want you to know that I’m not just saying this for his benefit. I can’t put into words how terrible I feel about everything that’s happened. I can’t begin to imagine what you must be feeling, and I am very, very sorry for that.” She took a deep breath. “But I need you to understand that my life is with Ron and our children. If I had the power to undo what happened to me three years ago, I wouldn’t.”
Sawyer clenched his hands under the table.
“I’m sorry,” Lilly repeated. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful person and I must’ve loved you to have married you, but now—to me—you’re a stranger. I love Ron and our children, and I have no desire to return to a life I can’t remember, even if it was possible for me to do so.” She shook her head and her eyes were sad. “I’m not saying this to hurt you, but to help you move forward with your life, too. I’d like to meet Dylan, if you think that would be all right... When he’s back home with you,” she added haltingly. “Hopefully we can establish a relationship.” She rose gracefully and extended a hand to Sawyer. “I hope the police find him soon, and for Dylan’s sake, I hope you and I can be friends.”
Sawyer watched her walk away. Once she was gone, he signaled to the waitress to refill his coffee. The whole experience had been surreal, and he wanted to take a few minutes before he drove the rental car back to the airport.
Jeannette...Lilly...was no longer his wife. That was clear. She was a different person with a different life. She’d cut him to the bone with her declaration that she wouldn’t go back even if she could, but he had to respect her for it. And hadn’t he concluded that he felt the same way?
He’d watched her carefully when they spoke about Dylan, and he’d shown her a picture of her son. He’d wondered whether a mother’s love for her child could somehow transcend memory loss. But there’d been nothing evident beyond a stranger’s concern for the plight of a child. She’d said the right things. Had expressed interest in meeting Dylan—when he was found.
Sawyer hoped he could give her that opportunity...
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE PLANE TRIP HOME was excruciating for Sawyer. All he could think of was Dylan. When he tried to force his thoughts in another direction, it was either Jeannette or Shannon who came to mind. For two very different reasons.
When his plane landed at San Diego International Airport, he first checked his phone. With no news from the police about Dylan, and with Rufus visiting with his parents for the day, there was no point in going home. There was only one person he wanted to see. Shannon.
He wanted to assure her that Jeannette was in his past. And that he hoped Shannon would be his future.
He’d been relieved to learn that Jeannette—Lilly, now—was alive and well, but that had to do with caring about her as someone he’d loved and as the mother of his child.
He called Shannon on her personal cell. It went to voice mail, so he tried her at the division. The dispatcher told him she wasn’t answering and wasn’t sure if she was on shift. He’d asked whether anyone could tell him if she was working, and Dispatch put him through to the K-9 Unit’s admin, Beth.
Beth told him that Shannon had finished her shift and was at the division’s fitness center.
He asked if he’d be able to get into the center as a civilian. Beth said it shouldn’t be a problem. She said she’d get Logan to authorize it.
Sawyer went to the division straight from the airport and found her in the fitness center’s swimming pool.
On her own in the pool, Shannon sliced through the water like a seal. She was wearing a dark blue one-piece, her hair slicked back with the water, and wet, it looked more brown than the golden-blond he was used to seeing. Her arms and feet broke the water with minimal disturbance.
Sawyer knew that that meant her strokes and kicks were as efficient as they could be, all energy spent on forward motion rather than splashing about.
When she reached the end of the pool, she did a clean, crisp racing turn, hardly making a ripple as she dived and surfaced a good fifteen feet from the wall.
He watched her do six lengths before she made another turn and simply glided to a halt and floated. Her arms were ahead of her but spread out, her face in the water.
Sawyer felt his nerves jump. What was she doing? Had she worn herself out completely?
He paced the edge of the pool, not daring to take his eyes off her. He counted the seconds to see how long she was floating like that, facedown. He tried to remember how long you could hold your breath. What was it? Two or two and a half minutes, max? He called to her, but there was no response.
“Damn it all,” he muttered, yanked off his shoes, tugged off his jacket and dived in. Before he could reach her, she surged out of the water, gasping. She pushed her wet hair back from her face and stared at him.
“Is there news about Dylan?” she asked.
“No. Unfortunately not.”
“What are you doing here, then? And why did you jump into the water with your clothes on?”
He gestured toward her. “You were floating facedown. I thought... I thought you might need help.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You thought I was drowning?”
His fear for her well-being was being crowded out by embarrassment. “Well, yeah. You were swimming and then you just stopped and were lying there with your face in the water. So I...”
“Have you ever seen anyone drown?”
He shook his head.
“They certainly don’t lie still. They thrash around—until they can’t anymore.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Holding my breath.” Her tone softened. “For search and rescue, we sometimes have to go into water. We can’t wait for divers if someone’s life might be at risk. To expand my lungs, I practice holding my breath. I do it after strenuous exercise, the way it would generally be in a real-life situation. After swimming for a while, having to dive down to save someone.” The corners of her lips curved up. “I was also resting.” She checked her watch. “I’d been swimming for over twenty minutes.”
They started to make their way toward the ladder. “You were swimming at that speed for twenty minutes?” he asked, impressed.
She hung on to the metal bars, pulled herself up and out of the water, and glanced back. “Yeah.”
The sle
ek one-piece bathing suit didn’t hide much from Sawyer’s view as he followed her out of the water. Shannon was lithe and subtly muscled. It horrified him that he’d even notice, when all he had on his mind was Dylan.
She wrapped a towel around herself, reached for another and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He tried to squeeze the water out of his clothes, then used the towel to dry off his face and hair.
“So, what brought you here?”
“You.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I just got back from meeting with Jeannette and I wanted to see you.”
Shannon gave him a guarded look. “How did it go?”
“Okay. Good. I’ll tell you about it. Are you finished here? Can you leave?”
She stared at him with clear blue eyes.
* * *
SHANNON DIDN’T KNOW what to make of Sawyer’s showing up at the division. And right after he’d seen his wife. She wanted to believe it was a positive sign, but she couldn’t trust it. One of the reasons she’d decided on strenuous exercise at the end of her shift was to give herself a chance to think and to try making sense of her thoughts.
The conclusion she’d come to was that she couldn’t do the emotional roller coaster anymore. Everyone who’d warned her had been correct.
It wasn’t Sawyer’s fault. It was the situation. And she couldn’t function the way things were.
“Yes, I’m done here for the day,” she said cautiously.
“Can you get changed? Meet me at my place?”
Suddenly, she began to shiver. She took another towel and draped it around her shoulders. “Sawyer, I’m sorry, but this isn’t good.”
“Would you rather go home and change first?”
She lowered her head and shook it. “That’s not what I meant. I think I need to go home right now.”
At his protracted silence, she glanced up again.
He was watching her with hooded eyes. When she didn’t say anything either, he nodded.