Page 34 of Running to You

It hadn’t, though. He’d gotten her home. She was safe, for now. Sam pulled in his first deep breath in hours.

Dan stood beside him. “You want to tell us the story?”

He turned and leaned against the railing, crossing his arms to ward off the cold. And the fear he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Camilla, misunderstanding his pause, said, “I can go inside, let you two talk.” She started for the door.

“No, it’s fine.”

She turned back. “If you’re sure…” She settled on the wicker couch, and Daniel sat beside her.

But Sam was too keyed up to sit. He recounted everything that’d happened from the time they’d arrived at Eliza’s mom’s house until they headed home. “She was fine. Talking to me. I knew she was hurt, but I didn’t realize…” He shoved a hand through his hair. “And then she fell asleep, and I thought it made sense that she’d sleep. She was tired and hurt. But when I couldn’t rouse her… I wanted to take her to the hospital, but she’s so scared, and I had just gotten through lecturing her about trusting her instincts, so I didn’t. But…” He forced himself to shut up.

Camilla’s face had paled, her eyes wide.

But Daniel was red-faced. “Who was it?”

“She didn’t know. They must’ve been watching the house. Waiting for her to show up.”

“Why?”

“How should I know?” He pushed off the railing and paced. “That’s the problem. We know nothing. Nothing! Her mom knew she was going to be in town, at least, that’s what we think. But if they were supposed to go to Florida together, then did her mom go alone? Or maybe… What if something happened to Linda?”

He hated to think that. Sam wasn’t Linda’s biggest fan, but she was the only family Eliza had left. No siblings. Her father gone. No cousins or aunts or uncles that Eliza had ever mentioned.

Where was Linda? If they were supposed to go somewhere together, then why would she go without her?

And if they were planning to go together, why would Eliza fly to Manchester? Why not just meet her mom in Florida?

“Did she recognize the men?” Camilla asked.

“She said she didn’t, but I think maybe… She didn’t seem sure.”

Daniel pushed to his feet and walked closer. “You think it’s safe to be here? Those guys probably got your license plate number. They can find the house.”

“The car belongs to the business. Even if they had the ability to trace the plate, the address will direct them to the office in Portland.” Though Sam did most of his work from home, he kept an office in the city. “It won’t lead them here.” He paced some more, then spun to them. “I’m going to call the York police and tell them what happened. Maybe if those goons go back to her house, they’ll catch them. More importantly, we need to find out where she’s been the last five years. I’m going to call Jon.”

“Who?” Daniel asked.

“Grant’s best friend—you remember. From the Army?”

“Oh, yeah. He came up to camp a few times.”

Camp. That was what the family called the multi-level home his parents had built on an island off the coast of Maine when the boys were kids.

“Why would you call him?” Daniel sounded genuinely confused.

“He’s a private investigator. Maybe he can figure out where Eliza’s been the last five years.” Sam grasped at the idea, the first decent one he’d had since the attack. “I’m calling right now.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Only five o’clock in the morning, but Eliza couldn’t sleep anymore. She felt like she’d been in bed for days. She had no idea what time she’d climbed beneath the covers the day before—actually had no memory of doing that—but she did know the sun had still been out when she’d woken up to Daniel’s soft, “Are you with me? I need you to open your eyes, Eliza.”

All she’d wanted was to go back to sleep, but she’d answered all his questions and obeyed all his commands. Then, she’d taken some Tylenol and fallen asleep.

It wasn’t shocking that she was wide awake at five a.m. She showered, washed her hair, blow-dried it, and dressed in the fresh clothes. There was a shopping bag full of them. Bras, underwear, socks, jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters, yoga pants, pajamas. There was even a pair of cushy slippers.

It was enough to last a week or longer.