Enigma. Carla Cassidy

more specific?”

      “If he’s alive, then we’ll find what I’m looking for,” he replied. Tension rippled through him as she typed in the words eight-point star and then hit Search.

      Immediately results began to fill the screen. How to make an origami star, how to quilt a star pattern, what do stars mean—all of them results that had nothing to do with what he somehow knew he sought.

      If he couldn’t contact Jack then he didn’t know what he would do, where he would go. The only thing he knew with certainty was that he would not be able to remain here with Willa.

      Sooner or later somebody would remember how involved she had been with John Doe. Sooner or later somebody might realize he couldn’t have left the hospital under his own steam and might put two and two together.

      “It has to be here,” he said in desperation. “There!” he exclaimed and pointed to the search result that simply said eight-pointed star. “Click on that and let’s see what it is.”

      She clicked on it and the page filled the screen. “It’s nothing,” she said. “It’s just a picture of a star.”

      “If it’s what I hope it is, then it’s proof that my brother got out alive,” he replied.

      She looked up at him, her eyes radiating with more questions. “Got out of where alive?”

      He ignored her question and pointed to a small icon in the corner of the page. “Look, there’s a place to e-mail a message. Type in ‘birthday parties at the beach are the very best’ and leave your cell phone number.”

      For a long moment she held his gaze. “Please,” he said softly. “Just type it in and send it.”

      She returned her attention to the screen and did as he asked and then whirled around in the chair to face him once again. “Now what?”

      “We wait,” he replied. He had no idea if the Web site belonged to Jack, didn’t know how frequently it was monitored. He wasn’t even sure how he had known to look for it. He only knew that if it was Jack’s site and if his brother read the e-mail, then he would know by the message that it was Jared attempting to get in touch with him.

      There was no soft, warm light in Willa’s eyes as she gazed at him. Instead her eyes shone with a determination that was slightly daunting. “Fine, then while we wait you’re going to tell me what’s going on.” She rose from the chair and gestured him out of the room.

      As he followed her to the living room he knew he was going to have to tell her something. He couldn’t afford to alienate her until Jack contacted him and yet he had to be wary of telling her so much that she wound up in danger.

      A slippery slope, he thought as he sat on the sofa and she eased into the chair across from him, an expectant look on her beautiful face. She looked hot in the yellow T-shirt that clung to her full breasts and he wished he could just sit and appreciate looking at her instead of having the discussion they were about to have.

      “You have to understand, if I tell you too much it could be dangerous for you,” he began.

      “I don’t care. You owe me some explanations,” she replied. “I’ve not only put my job on the line, but also my sense of what’s right. You owe me something. Were you born with the mental telepathy? I’ve heard that twins sometimes share that kind of awareness with each other.”

      “No, we weren’t born with the ability. As twins we were close, but normal. The ability came later.” He’d promised he wouldn’t get into her thoughts without her permission but as her eyes narrowed he wished he could see exactly what she was thinking.

      “You aren’t going to tell me the truth, are you?” she finally asked.

      “Everything I’ve told you is the truth.”

      “But it’s not the whole truth.”

      “I can’t tell you everything.” A deep weariness washed over him and reminded him that he was still not himself, still physically and mentally weak. “Willa, for the past six months you’ve been the most important person in my life. It was your spirit, your optimism and care, that got me through the darkness. Hopefully very soon my brother will contact me and I’ll be out of your life. The last thing I want to do is give you information that, if somehow these men find you, will put you at risk. I care about you too much to do that.”

      Her gaze softened. “It’s hard to argue with you when you use that kind of logic.”

      “Then don’t,” he replied.

      “You’re tired. Your color isn’t good,” she said briskly and stood. “Why don’t you take a little nap while we wait for your brother to contact you?”

      He nodded, too exhausted to argue with her. He stretched out against the sofa cushions. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

      “I’m going to contact the hospital and see if anyone knows anything about your whereabouts. It will seem suspicious if I don’t. Everyone there knew you were a special project of mine.” She blushed at the words and then disappeared into the kitchen.

      He closed his eyes. She wasn’t the only one who had considered him a special project. Despite his weariness every muscle in his body tightened as he thought of the man who had destroyed his life.

      Uncle Ken, that was what he’d had the two orphaned twins call him when he’d taken custody of them after their parents’ deaths in a car accident. He’d taken the grieving boys from the only home they’d known to a small house in a remote area. For the next eight years the boys were isolated from everyone except Uncle Ken, who gave them weekly injections and educated and tested them.

      His muscles began to relax as he heard Willa on the phone in the next room. He shoved away those dark memories of the past and instead focused on the familiar, comforting sound of her voice.

      Within minutes he was asleep and dreaming, and in his dream he stood in the dark, cold forest with his brother, free for the first time in fifteen years.

      Despite the danger he knew they were in, his senses exploded, alive with sensations. The cold tickle of grass beneath his bare feet, the rustling sound of the wind through the last of the autumn leaves, the clean, sharp scent of the air, all combined to give him a heady rush.

      The moment of exhilaration was shattered as the alarm of impending danger thrummed through his veins and rang in his head. Run. Jared didn’t know if it was his own thought or Jack’s, but he followed the command.

      He ran with no thought to where he was going, only the need to get away. Both he and his brother were in perfect physical condition and Jared ran like a marathon man, his only desire to put as many miles as possible between himself and the place where he’d been held.

      In his dream his heart pumped and his legs worked to carry him farther and farther away. Freedom sang through him with each mile he traveled.

      They were going to do it. They were finally going to get away, to be free. Success filled him as his legs continued to pump.

      And then he was crossing a highway and headlights appeared from nowhere and he saw the car and knew he was about to be hit. Then pain—excruciating pain.

      “Jared, it’s okay. You’re having a nightmare.” Willa’s voice cut through the intense pain, her slender hand cool on his forehead as he jerked awake.

      With a ragged breath he sat up. “Sorry,” he said as she stepped away from the sofa.

      “No need to apologize. Want to talk about it?”

      He smiled, as always touched by her concern for him. “It was just a bad dream.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I remember a man gave me a ride in a big truck for a while and then I got out and was walking along the side of the road. I was hit by a car. Do you know who hit me?” he asked.

      She shook her head. “According to the police officer who accompanied