Watch Me (Last Stand #3)(10)
Author: Brenda Novak

“I’m guessing you weren’t in town very long when this happened,” Cain said. “Where were you staying?”

“My uncle’s house,” she replied at the same time Ned said, “The old Bancroft place.”

Yes, the old Bancroft place. She could picture it. She seemed to be getting her bearings, remembering more and more. “Uncle Perry died a few years ago and left it to my mother,” she told Cain. “My folks have been renting it out, but the man who lived there since Uncle Perry died moved two months ago and my mother doesn’t want the responsibility anymore. When she heard I was coming, she asked me to clean it up and put it on the market.”

“Did you notice anyone watching you? Following you?” Ned asked.

She focused as hard as she could on what she’d done after packing her bags, but the details she’d recalled were already slipping into the shadows. “I—I can’t say.” She didn’t even know where her car was. Had she left it in Sacramento and rented a vehicle once she flew into Nashville? Had she flown into Nashville? That was the most logical place, but most of the practical considerations of the past few days—or was it weeks?—were lost to her.

She’d never realized how much those details mattered, how much they grounded a person, until she couldn’t remember them.

Cain studied her closely. “It’ll come back,” he said as if he understood that losing those memories was nearly as terrifying as the violence that had put her here.

It’ll come back. She clung to those words as she closed her eyes. She needed to block out the fear and uncertainty growing stronger inside her.

The phone in her room rang, and Ned picked it up. “It’s for you,” he said, holding the receiver out to Cain. “It’s Owen.”

As Cain spoke to Owen—telling him she’d just awakened and was going to be fine—Sheridan let herself drift off. She was almost beyond the fear and discomfort, almost at the dark, quiet place where she’d spent the past week. But then she felt a heavy hand on her arm. “Sheridan?”

She opened her eyes to see Ned’s ruddy, freckled face only inches from her own. “I’m pretty sure Cain’s the one who did this to you,” he whispered while Cain continued to talk on the phone. “Can you tell me why he might want you dead?”

She thought of one very obvious reason. She’d been trying to make him jealous when she encouraged Jason to take her to Rocky Point. She’d only wanted Cain to see her with his stepbrother, to make Cain regret not calling her. “M-maybe he blames me for…for Jason.”

“Why would he?”

The sedatives were getting the better of her again. It was difficult to make her mouth form the words. “Because…I…was…there.” She sounded like a CD player with the batteries running on low.

“Because you and Cain had some sort of secret relationship, right?”

She heard Cain’s voice in the background. I’d appreciate it if you’d call Janice Powers and Juan Rodriguez and let them know I won’t be around today. They both have appointments with me for their dogs….

Sheridan wanted to listen instead of struggling to find an answer. “What?”

“He shot Jason out of jealousy, didn’t he?” Ned insisted. “Then he did this, because he’s afraid you might reveal his motives.”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

She didn’t like the change in Ned’s voice or manner. But, with effort, she managed two more words. “I’m…sure.”

Was that a frown creasing his forehead? Sheridan squinted to clear the blurriness in her vision. But he was too close—and only leaned closer, his breath smelling of stale coffee as it fanned her cheek. “Do you have any idea who did?”

The dark form with the ski mask emerged in her memory as if suddenly stepping out of a fog.

“What do you want?” she cried. “What have I done?”

He wouldn’t respond. He was afraid she’d recognize his voice. That had to be it. She could tell he wanted to speak. The way he jerked her around, used any excuse to inflict pain, showed his contempt, his derision.

“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” she asked.

Filled with a hatred that was palpable, his eyes gleamed at her through the holes in the mask. But, again, he didn’t answer. His hands closed around her throat for the second time, cutting off her air. She was going to die. She…couldn’t…get…free. He was…too…strong. Again. No…air… NO…AIR!—and then he let go.

Gasping, she stumbled, and he kicked her, knocking her to the ground. That was when she came up fighting. It was her only choice. She used her feet, mostly, and her teeth, when she could. She even used her head as a battering ram—knocking him off balance once.

That was her only victory. Besides getting loose, of course. She’d been pulling and twisting on the rope that bound her hands behind her back ever since she’d regained consciousness. He thought he could do this to her and get away with it? No! She fought for the rights of victims every day; she was determined to fight for her own, to resist each blow.

And then, by some miracle, the ropes came loose and fell away. She dragged in one gulp of air—that was all she had time for—hit him in the face as hard as she could and lunged toward the trees.

But she didn’t escape. He caught her by the hair and dragged her back. And then he spoke, but it was such a low growl she still couldn’t identify the voice. “Stupid bitch! Now you’re going to pay.”

She did pay, but not the way she thought she would. He didn’t try to rape her. He just kept striking and striking—

“Do you?” Ned pulled her back into the present. “Are you going to answer me?”

Sheridan had begun to shake. She didn’t want to face any more. But she had to. If she wanted to catch the man who’d hurt her, she had to give Ned more.

God, she longed to remember some detail about her attacker’s body or movements. But the whole episode became one terrifying blur. He was simply a man of medium height dressed in black. “N-no.”

“Then how do you know it wasn’t Cain?” he asked.

The heart monitor revealed how fast her heart was beating. Beep…beep…beep, beep, beep…

Cain was still on the phone. I’ll come by tonight and say hello, see what you need on that alternator. Might be late…