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“After he left, Slick came into my room and I pretended to be asleep, but he caught up with me the next day. Told me if I ever told anyone about what happened, he’d give me a beating I’d never forget. I believed him.”
Her heart hurt for the boy Jim had been, and she placed her hand on her chest. “Was that the end of it?”
“No. Kayla Rush was kidnapped a week later, and then Stevie Carson and finally Heather Brice.”
She swallowed. “Do you think the Timberline Trio kidnappings were related to your botched kidnapping?”
“Yes. I don’t know how or why, but I’ve always felt it—” he pounded a fist against his chest “—here. That means Slick had something to do with the Timberline case or he knew something about it.”
“What about your older brother?”
“He was fifteen at the time. I’m not sure he’d know anything.”
“Have you ever spoken to him about it?”
“Until recently, he was in prison for drug trafficking as part of the Lords of Chaos. I know he’s out of the joint because he dropped me a line through the army, but we haven’t been in touch since.”
“That might be a place to start.”
“I’m hoping Slick’s cabin turns up some clues.”
“Or...”
“No.” He pushed up from the chair and grabbed her empty wineglass from the table next to her. “You’re not going to help me by reading my mind or getting me into some sort of hypnotic dream state. I don’t need that. I remember exactly what happened twenty-five years ago.”
“If not me, how about help from a therapist?” She waved her hands. “I don’t mean with repressed memories, but getting treatment for your PTSD.”
“I had some of that before. I figured I’d kicked those spells—or whatever you want to call them—for good, only to have them crashing back on me in good old Timberline.”
“I know a good therapist. Her name’s Dr. Shipman, and she practices in Port Angeles. I can give you her number.”
“I’ll take it.”
Yawning, Jim stretched his arms over his head and she got a full view of his muscles flexing beneath his T-shirt. But the man had more than sexy packaging.
His life story had given her a whole new appreciation for his fortitude and bravery. He’d faced enough demons to last most people a hundred lifetimes and yet here he was back in Timberline to confront another.
He rubbed a hand across his mouth. “That’s the most I’ve talked since my debriefing. I don’t expect you to care or want to get involved with any of this.”
“I kind of didn’t have a choice, did I? For whatever reason, Rusty decided to make his way to my cabin after someone stabbed him and dumped him on the road.”
“I hope to God it was just a coincidence that led him to you. The Lords of Chaos?” He sliced one finger across his throat. “Not anyone you want to be involved with.”
“You survived.”
“Only by enlisting in the army. Otherwise, I’d be dead like Slick or an ex-con like Dax.”
“I didn’t even realize you were a member of a motorcycle gang. How far were you into it?”
“Further than I wanted to be. It’s like a legacy—club membership is handed down from generation to generation. To escape is to turn your back on your family and your friends. I had to do both.”
“You never regretted it?”
“Never. In the army, with my unit, I found another family.” He flicked the card he’d given her earlier, which listed the name she’d called to get to the attorney in Seattle. “This guy’s someone I can count on in any crisis.”
“You’re lucky.”
Twisting his wrist, he glanced at his watch. “It’s late. You’ve done more than enough tonight. At this rate, I owe you a remodel.”
“I might take you up on that.” She stood up beside him and shoved her hands in her pockets to keep from touching him. “Are you sure you’re okay? That seizure was pretty scary.”
“It’s more like a blackout, and the medical doctors tell me it’s all in my head and there’s nothing physically wrong with me...except my messed-up leg. I’m all right, but I will take Dr. Shipman’s number if you have it handy.”
