LEROY PULLED THE plastic bottle from the cabinet and opened it, shaking out two pills into his palm. Then he recapped the bottle and grabbed the water glass. He walked into the dining room, where Ramsey sat amid a pile of papers, rubbing his head.
“Here,” said Leroy. “Take this.”
Ramsey looked up. “What?”
Leroy held out the pills. “It’s aspirin.”
Ramsey stared at the two pills and then reached for them, swallowing them down with the water. “Thanks,” he said.
It was mid-afternoon, and now forty-eight hours into Sarah’s disappearance. After his apparent anxiety attack the previous day, Ramsey had remained at Leroy’s house. For some reason, he’d felt close to Sarah, as if she knew he was there, and in some non-physical way, he’d felt her nearness and didn’t want to lose that connection to her.
Declan’s team as well as those sent by the Council were still out looking, and he continued to hold onto the fact that she would be found, and that Y would not hurt her because his main goal was to hurt Ramsey instead. Ramsey told himself that constantly in order to keep the fear at bay, but as the hours passed, he felt his doubt grow, and it was all he could do to stay put and wait.
He stared at the map again. The search area now extended in a wide circle away from the midpoint, which was Sullivan’s. It was a large area to cover, and he knew it could take weeks to fully check the area. Sighing, he thought of Sarah and sent out his own signal, telling her to hold on and that they would find her.
Leroy sat next to him and looked at his watch. “Declan should be back soon.”
Declan had left to meet with the Council, updating them on their progress. “Yeah,” Ramsey answered.
They heard the front door open and close. “It’s me,” they heard as Hannah came into the room.
They watched her put down two bags and take off her jacket.
“What’d you get us?” asked Leroy.
“Sandwiches. Help yourself.” She pulled out cellophane-wrapped food and placed it on the table. “Anybody thirsty?” She walked into the kitchen.
“Just a water for me,” said Leroy. None of them had managed to eat breakfast, other than coffee. He pulled out a ham and cheese for Ramsey, who showed little interest. “Here, Sherlock. Eat.”
Ramsey pulled himself out of his daze to see Leroy holding a sandwich out to him. “Why are you always giving me food?”
Leroy stared back. “What kind of question is that? It’s the same reason I insist you sleep. You’re not much good without either. Now eat something.”
Ramsey reacted as if on auto-pilot. He took the food and put it in front of him, staring blankly at it.
Leroy reached over and unwrapped it for him.
Hannah returned with two waters and placed one in front of Leroy. Seeing Ramsey had some already, she kept the other one for herself.
Sitting in silence, Hannah and Leroy began to eat. Ramsey took a few bites, but with little enthusiasm. He barely tasted his sandwich, and as much as he hated to think about it, he wondered how much longer he could hold out like this, with no news or indication of Sarah’s whereabouts. Two days had felt like two years. He didn’t want to know what four days or ten days or, God forbid, ten months felt like. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and Declan’s voice in the house.
“Where?” he heard Declan say. Declan walked into the room holding his phone. Ramsey immediately sensed Declan’s energy, and the two of them made eye contact.
“Down by the coast?” Declan asked.
Ramsey stood. Declan made a gesture signaling that he needed a pen. Leroy got him one and Hannah handed him some paper. “Give me the address.” He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and wrote. “Text it to me, too. Thanks, Sylvia.” He ended the call. “They got a hit on the sketch of Yates.”
“Where?” asked Ramsey.
“About an hour away. Down by the coast. Guy in a coffee shop recognized him.”
Ramsey moved to find his keys as Leroy stood to find his jacket.
“He didn’t know his name, though.”
“I don’t care,” said Ramsey. “I want to talk to him.”
“Okay,” said Declan. “Let’s go.” He glanced at Hannah. “You stay and hold down the fort. Call me if you get any updates.”
“You let me know if you learn anything,” said Hannah.
“We will,” said Declan, following Leroy and Ramsey out the door.
An hour later, Leroy pulled into the parking lot of the “The Big Cup” coffee shop. A coffee cup with pink neon steam blinked from the window. Ramsey had the car door open before Leroy could put it into park. Declan jumped out of the back seat and Leroy joined him, and they followed Ramsey in and up to the counter, where a woman wearing an orange uniform shirt with a monogrammed coffee cup on the pocket stood to take their orders.
“I’m looking for a man named Jonah…” Ramsey looked at Declan.
“Jonah Duncan,” Declan finished. “He works here?”
The woman behind the register stared at the three men. “Any of you want any coffee?”
“We don’t want any coffee,” said Ramsey. “What we want is to speak to Jonah Duncan. Is he here?”
Her curious gaze drifted back behind the counter. “I think he’s on break.”
“Can we speak to him?” asked Ramsey.
“You want me to get him?”
Ramsey tried not to show his impatience. “Yes.”
“Please,” finished Declan.
Another employee walked by, and the woman by the register said, “Fran, would you get Jonah?”
The woman named Fran stopped. “Why? He’s on break.”
“Somebody wants to talk to him.” The woman nodded her head at the men at the counter.
Fran narrowed her eyes at them. “You guys want any coffee?”
Ramsey grunted, and Declan answered, “No, thank you. We’d just like to talk to Jonah.”
“What for? You guys the police?”
Ramsey almost launched himself over the counter. “We are not the police. Would you just get Jonah?”
Declan put a hand on his arm, and Ramsey restrained himself.
“Jonah’s not in any trouble,” Declan continued. “We’re just looking for someone, and we’re hoping Jonah can help us.” He flashed a twenty dollar bill. “We’ll make it worth his time.”
Fran studied them and the money and must have decided they were telling the truth. “Fine,” she said. “Hold on.”
The first woman watched the exchange, and as Fran walked away, she looked at Declan. “Someone came in earlier asking questions. Did someone go missing? Is this like one of those CSI cases?”
Leroy sighed as Ramsey rolled his eyes.
“Yes…Linda,” said Declan, finally reading her name tag. “You could say that.”
Linda’s eyes perked up. “I love those shows. You know, I just came on duty. You want me to look at your pictures?”
Just then, a short, pudgy man came around the corner. His baby face gave him the appearance of a teenager, but he had to be in his mid to late twenties. “You guys looking for me?”
“Yes. Are you Jonah?” asked Declan.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, you’re not in any trouble,” said Declan. “You mind if we talk to you for a minute?”
Jonah looked at the clock on the wall. “I got five minutes left on my break.”
“That’s all we need.” Declan pulled the pictures from his pocket. “Someone came by here earlier with these pictures. I was told you recognized this man?” He held the picture out, and Jonah, along with Fran and Linda, leaned over to look.
Jonah studied the picture. “Yeah, I recognize him. He comes in for coffee sometimes in the morning. Wears a nice suit. That’s why I remember him.”
“When’s the last time he came in?” asked Ramsey.
“Uh, I don’t know. Last time I saw him was probably a couple of weeks ago. I only work two mornings a week, though. He may have come in at another time.”
“You know his name?” asked Declan.
“No.”
“Does he pay with a credit card?” asked Leroy.
“No. He always pays in cash.”
“Cash?” asked Ramsey.
“Yup, Big bills, too. That’s another reason he stands out. I have to get change from the safe.”
“What about the woman?” asked Declan, showing them Sarah’s photo. “Have you seen her?”
Jonah looked at the picture. “No. Never seen her.”
Ramsey studied the front of the shop. “What about cameras. Do you have cameras?”
“Are you kidding?” asked Fran. “We can’t get the owner to buy us cups for the employee room.”
Linda snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Ramsey’s frustration mounted. “You mean to tell me that we can’t find out who this man is?”
“I can tell you who he is,” said Linda.
That got their attention. “Who?” asked Declan.
“I was here last week, covering for Manny. You know he got sick, right?” She looked at Fran.
“Yeah, poor Manny,” said Fran, frowning. “I think he’s still in the hospital.”
“I know. And he’s got no insurance,” said Linda, shaking her head.
“You know,” said Fran, “Martin’s thinking of throwing a fund raiser to help him out.”
“Martin? That’s a great idea.” said Linda. She leaned against the counter. “You know, I heard he broke up with Sheila. So sad.”
Ramsey was ready to yank Linda over the counter. “The man?” he asked.
Linda returned to the subject, completely missing Ramsey’s irritation. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Well, he came in and ordered coffee. Then he struck up a conversation, which was odd because the place was busy. I thought he was cute and all, you know? The tall, beach boy thing, but smart with that suit and all.” Her gaze met Declan’s. “You know the type?”
Declan could only stare. “Not really,” he said.
Ramsey thought he’d been tortured enough these past two days, but now he realized how much further torture could go. “And?” he prompted.
“So, he’s talking and I’m answering, thinking maybe he’s interested, but then realizing that he’s just chatty. I mean what guy like that goes for a girl behind a coffee counter, right?”
“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” said Fran. “You’re a great catch.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” said Linda, smiling at her friend.
“Oh, for God’s sake…” said Ramsey.
“Ladies,” interjected Leroy, his own impatience rising. “I apologize for my friend, but the woman in the picture has gone missing and we think this man may be responsible, so we need whatever help you can give us as quickly as you can. Her life may depend on it.”
Both women’s eyes widened. “So this really is a CSI case, huh?” asked Linda.
“The man?” asked Leroy, pointing at the picture. “Who is he?”
Linda finally returned to her story. “Well, when he left, he tipped me.”
“So?” asked Declan.
Linda said flatly, “It was a hundred-dollar bill.”
“What?” asked Ramsey, right along with Fran and Jonah.
“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it, so I says to him, ‘If you’re gonna give me that, you might as well give me your number, too.’ Thought I’d be bold, you know?”
“What happened?” asked Fran.
“He gave me his card.”
“He did?” asked Ramsey. “Where is it?”
Linda shrugged. “I threw it away.”
Ramsey couldn’t believe it. “You what?”
“Why?” asked Fran.
“There was nothing on it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Declan.
“The only thing on it was his name. No contact info or nothing.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I looked him up online, but found nothing, so I threw it away. Guess he was messing with me.”
Fran shoulder’s dropped. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, Linda,” she said.
“The name, Linda,” said Ramsey. “What was his name?”
She stared up at the ceiling, thinking. “It started with a Y. Yane…Yale…no…Yates. That’s it. Yates.”
“Yates who, Linda?” said Declan. “Think.”
Linda tapped her chin. “Yates…Yates…something. I think it had an ‘r’ in it.”
The air in all three men seemed to deflate. Ramsey slumped and gripped the counter.
“No, wait,” she said. “I remember. Yates Reddington. That’s it. Yates Reddington. I’m sure of it.”
**
Sarah watched the waves roll into the shore, break, and rake against the sand. Eyeing the horizon, she admired the hues of pink and orange in the sky as the sun descended. Standing out on the patio of the house, she listened to the seagulls, and the breeze fluttered her hair. She’d spent most of the day just wandering, walking through the house and the extensive grounds and familiarizing herself with her surroundings. Some of it she’d recognized, but other areas were foreign to her. She’d met and spoken with Isabelle, or Izzy as she preferred, who was the cook and housekeeper. She’d met the groundskeeper, a somewhat shy fellow who looked at her as if she’d risen from the grave. She remembered Julian, and she’d made a point of speaking to him as well. If she was going to live in this house, then she ought to know everyone connected to it. Although why she remembered so little concerned her. Yates had explained that they had not spent an extensive amount of time here prior to her accident, which would explain her lack of memory, but as she gazed at the ocean, she realized that there were other pockets of history lost to her, and it began to bother her.
Feeling a presence behind her, she smiled when she felt arms encircle her. After breakfast, Yates had disappeared into his home office in the basement, and he’d reappeared only for lunch. He’d allowed Sarah some time to herself in order to help her adjust back into her routine, although what that routine was, she had no idea. Bits and pieces of flashbacks occasionally sparked, but they made no sense, and she couldn’t put any pieces together.
“What is it?” he asked, sensing her questions.
She sighed. “I still have so much missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t remember things. Things I should know.”
“Like what?”
She continued to gaze at the ocean. “Like how we met.”
“You don’t recall?”
“No.”
He pressed his chin against her ear. “We met in a coffee shop.”
“We did?”
“Yes. I took an empty seat at your table and struck up a conversation.” He held her close. “Remember?”
A vague image of him sitting across from her at a table flashed in her mind. “Yes. I think I have a vague recollection.”
“Good. What else?”
“How long have we known each other?”
He paused. “Honestly? I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life. But if you want to get exact, we’ve sort of had a whirlwind romance.” Taking one of her hands, he began to gently rub his thumb over her palm.
“How long is a whirlwind?” she asked, feeling herself relax. She leaned back against him.
“Six months.”
“Six months?”
“Well, we didn’t get serious until a few months in.”
“Wait. You mean we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months?” She couldn’t help but feel surprised.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned her around and led her to a nearby bench, where they both sat while he continued to hold her hand.
“Sarah, there are a few things I should discuss with you before we go any further with this.”
That made her sit up. “What?”
“I hesitated bringing them up because it upsets you, but if we’re going to marry, you need to know everything.”
Her hand squeezed his as his thumb rubbed over skin. “Tell me.”
Yates looked out over the ocean. “You’ve been through a lot recently. And it’s not just about the accident.”
She felt nervous. “Is this about me being a Red-Line?”
He looked at her. “You remember?”
“That part is hard to forget. I’m still getting used to it.”
“Do you remember when you found out?”
Sarah stared off, her eyes furrowed. “Someone told me, but I don’t remember who.”
“I can tell you who.”
“You can?”
Turning serious, he said, “Sarah, not long after we met, I realized who you were. You were special. I could tell. You and I are basically the only two remaining Red-Lines, plus we have similar origins, so it made sense why we hit it off so quickly. But when it came time to tell you about who you were and what you were about to experience, it was taken out of my hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is a Council made up of members of our Community who were not in agreement with how your case should be handled.”
“Council?” Her memory flashed on a stylish woman with silver-white hair. “Morgana?”
His eyes widened. “See, your memory is improving.”
“What did the Council have to do with it?”
“They did not agree that I should tell you. And before I realized what was happening, they had taken you and assigned a Protector.”
“A Protector?”
“Yes. Do you remember him?” The pressure of his thumb against her hand increased.
She had no recollection of a Protector. “No.”
“His name is John. John Ramsey.”
For a split second, Sarah felt the familiarity of the name, but the pressure on her hand distracted her and the moment of recall vanished.
“I don’t know him.”
“Sarah.” He turned and faced her on the bench. “The Council felt it best if he told you about your impending Shift and helped you through it. He was assigned. I had no idea where you were or how to stop him.”
“Stop him?”
“Yes. He did as he was instructed. He got you successfully through it, but he…”
“He what?”
“He became attracted to you. He developed some sort of obsession. His friends helped him, and I couldn’t get to you because he took you and hid you.”
“Hid me?”
“He wouldn’t let you leave.”
Another brief flash hit when she recalled yelling at a man, feeling intensely angry. She’d gone to her room and slammed the door. She blinked as the memory faded.
“You tried to escape, but he brought you back. Finally, though, you managed to get out. You took a car, but in your haste to escape, you lost control and had your accident. That’s when I found you again. You were in the hospital, and I’ve been nursing you back to health ever since.”
Sighing as if the story exhausted him, he closed his eyes. “It was the worst time of my life. Not knowing where you were, or what he was doing to you.”
She felt his pain as memories of beeping machines and stark hospital rooms crossed her mind, although she had no memory of being ill.
“I don’t remember that.”
His eyes opened. “The doctor said it would be unlikely if you ever remembered the accident or the immediate aftermath. It’s not uncommon with a traumatic head injury.”
She sighed, wishing she could recall the events of her past. “What happened to him?”
“Who?”
“This John Ramsey person.”
“I don’t know. After I found you, he disappeared. Probably realized he’d lost his chance with you.” His gaze drifted. “I hope to God I never see him again. I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Hey,” she said, feeling his anger. “I’m here, aren’t I?” She put her hand on his cheek and watched him relax. “You got the girl, remember?”
He smiled. “Does this mean you still want to marry me?”
Heat slid up her arm, and warmth spread through her midsection. “The sooner, the better.”
His soft gaze revealed his pleasure. “I’ve made arrangements with a justice of the peace. You told me before you weren’t big on large ceremonies. Is that still okay?”
Sarah couldn’t agree more. “Absolutely. The simpler, the better. Can I invite Rachel and Aunt Gerry?”
He gave her a doubtful look.
“What?” she asked.
“Just be prepared. They don’t know about me.”
“They don’t know about you? Why not?”
“You didn’t tell them.”
“I didn’t? Why not?”
“Because when we initially met, we kept it a secret. And then you suddenly learned you were a Red-Line and a member of an alien species, and things became a bit more complicated.”
That did ring a bell. She couldn’t reveal her true nature to her best friend and aunt. “Yes, I can see why.”
“But if you want to invite them, I won’t stop you.”
“Well.” She considered it. “Maybe it would be better to tell them after the fact.”
“Whatever you want.”
Sarah nodded. “Then I guess it’s official.” She leaned in close. “We’re getting married.”
His lips moved close to hers. “How’s this weekend sound?
She kissed him. “Terrific.”