Hidden (Jacobs Family Series Book 1) Read online

  “Let me help you with the door, Dana.” He rubbed the top of his bald head, looking concerned as he pushed the door open.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He offered a weak smile as she awkwardly made her way through.

  The darkness outside surprised her. Somehow she expected the day to stretch and accommodate her.

  “Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

  “No. Thank you. Since it’s my left foot, I’ll be fine. I’m going to the hospital now to check on Sayeed.”

  George didn’t say anything else, but neither did he go back inside. He continued to rub the top of his head.

  Dana smiled at the familiar gesture. “Problem, George?”

  “You look tired, and I’m sure the docs are taking care of Sayeed.”

  “I’m sure they are. Good night, George.”

  “Good night.”

  The drive to the hospital was short, but too quiet. She reached for the radio, found a jazz station, and turned up the volume. Perhaps she could drown out the things that haunted her. Why had this day left her nerves so raw? She felt as if she’d left her skin back on Interstate 25 with the burned-out rig.

  A silver-haired volunteer directed her to the correct floor and waiting room. Maneuvering through the elevator doors, she immediately identified Sayeed’s father.

  “Mr. al-Bakri, I’m Dana Jacobs.”

  Sayeed’s father stood and accepted her handshake. Dana knew Mr. al-Bakri had been raised in Iraq, but had spent the last thirty years in the West.

  “Thank you for coming,” Mr. al-Bakri said. “I did not realize you had been injured.”

  “I’m fine. The doctors have been updating me on Sayeed’s condition. They said he’s doing well and should return to his room soon.”

  “Yes. We’re expecting him anytime.”

  Dana’s eyebrows shot up at the pronoun “we”, but before she could ask she heard an all too familiar voice.

  “Can I get you a soda or cup of coffee, boss?”

  She turned and looked straight into the eyes of the last person she needed to see tonight.

  “Why are you here, Ben?” Dana felt her back stiffen. She had to fight the urge to reach up and squeeze her temples, which were now pounding.

  Instead of answering, he touched her arm. “Can I help you to a seat?”

  “No.” Dana clutched the crutches more tightly, as if he might try and take one from her.

  She’d had to use crutches twice before. Both times she’d hated them. They made her feel like a hunchback. She tried to compensate by standing straighter, which was impossible bent over crutches. The result was a sore back and an intense headache. She could tell this time would be no different.

  Right now she felt a powerful urge to whack something with one of them, and Ben Marshall was standing dangerously close.

  His forehead was bandaged where he’d received three stitches, and his arms were scratched up worse than she realized. Dana noted he must have gone home long enough to change into a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. His skin still glowed with his new sunburn. Why couldn’t he stay home? He should be recuperating, not sitting in a hospital waiting room.

  Ben sat in the chair beside Sayeed’s father and handed the man a Styrofoam cup of hot tea.

  “Why are you here, Ben?” Dana repeated the question softly.

  “I suppose I feel responsible. If I had shot a moment earlier, they wouldn’t have blasted his position with an RPG.”

  The pounding in Dana’s head increased. Her smile felt carved on her face. “Could I speak with you? Privately?”

  “Sure. Absolutely.” Ben set his soda on the table beside his chair and stood with entirely too much energy.

  Dana hobbled down the hall. She didn’t speak until they rounded the corner. Unfortunately, the direction she picked led past the newborn nursery. She closed her eyes momentarily, wondered if this day would ever end, then drew in a deep breath.

  “Are you all right?” Ben put a hand on her shoulder, which was his second mistake.

  “Do not ask me that,” she growled.

  Instead of answering, he merely nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “What were you thinking back there?” She watched Ben, waited for an answer, and wondered why he chafed those places she’d rather keep buried.

  He took a moment before he answered, studying the pink and blue bundles beyond the window. When he finally turned to look at her, she thought she detected laughter tugging at his lips. Surely he knew better than to laugh at her at this hour.

  “Do you mean when I asked you if you’d like a drink?”

  “This isn’t the time to be funny, Ben.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and all laughter left his expression. “Okay. What did I do this time, boss?”

  The look he gave her was challenging. She realized in that moment he would not be one to back down easily.

  “What you did, Ben, is talk about a covert operation to someone who is not classified to know the details.”

  He stepped toward her, closing the short distance between them. “What I did was admit my actions weren’t perfect this afternoon, and maybe they cost the man waiting back there something. At least I can admit my mistakes. What about you, Dana? Is that what’s eating you?”

  He searched her eyes. She told herself to look away, not to be drawn into the depth of his gaze. She couldn’t though. There was something about looking into Ben’s eyes that was eerily like holding up a mirror to her soul.

  He reached out and cupped her face in his hand. His fingers caressed her skin, reminding her of freshly laundered sheets against her body. She wanted to sink into it, into him, and never rise.

  Instead, she took a step back and nearly fell over the crutches.

  Ben dropped his hand and ducked his head for a heartbeat. When he looked at her again, his smile was back in place, his voice husky with emotion.

  “I don’t think anyone expects perfection. Would we like it? Yeah. Every day I wake up praying I can go through twenty-four hours without messing up, or making you angry, but it doesn’t seem possible.”

  He turned away from her, stepped back toward the windows, and crossed his arms. She thought he wouldn’t say anything else and wondered if she should just go.

  “Look at them, Dana. They don’t have anything to regret yet. They’re still in a state of grace.”

  Almost against her will she moved beside him and looked at the faces of those tiny infants. Something she would never have, never hold.

  “Maybe I did break another rule, and I’m sorry. But if by doing so I gave Mr. al-Bakri a measure of peace, if my admitting I’m sorry for not being perfect helps him to look at his son in a few minutes and accept what he sees, I’ll take whatever reprimand you want to dole out.”

  Then he walked away and left her there staring at dreams she’d long ago abandoned.

  Eighteen

  It was a few minutes past eleven by the time Ben and Dana said their good nights to Sayeed and Mr. al-Bakri. Sayeed came out more lucid than they expected. The doctors had been able to repair the damage to his shoulder, but he would not be shooting a rifle for several months.

  Ben had watched Dana grow paler with each passing moment. He’d already decided to follow her home, whether she was aware of it or not. If he could get away with driving her there, he’d prefer that. Suggesting it would probably earn him a rap on the back of the head, so he didn’t.

  “You don’t have to walk me to my car, Ben.” Dana shot him a tired look as they waited for the elevator.

  “What if we’re parked beside each other?” Ben held the doors open as she passed through.

  “I would have noticed your archaic truck. We’re parked nowhere near each other.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  They stepped out of the elevator into the night and a near empty parking lot. Dana’s Honda sat at the far end of the lot, five spaces down from Ben’s old, Chevy truck. At t
his late hour, there were few other cars in the visitor parking.

  “I see you managed to retrieve your car.”

  Dana nodded, but offered no explanation.

  He noticed she seemed to be having trouble with the crutches. He’d used them several times during high school.

  “Ever been on crutches before?”

  “Yes.” She spoke so softly, he had to step closer to hear her.

  “It helps if you relax into them. Did you ever play the game with your father where he picked you up under your armpits and swung you around? You need to relax like that. If you try to keep your posture straight, you’re going to be very sore.”

  Dana nodded once, but didn’t answer.

  As they continued across the dimly lit lot, she stumbled and nearly fell. Ben reached out a hand to steady her. He heard her draw a shaky breath, thought he could see the fatigue weighing on her shoulders. But neither of them spoke.

  Finally, they reached her car. She fumbled through her purse, searching for her keys.

  His first clue she was crying was the sniffling.

  “Dana?”

  She found the keys, beeped the unlock, but didn’t glance up.

  “Look at me, Dana.”

  Her hair had fallen completely out of its clasp. He couldn’t see her face, and she wouldn’t turn toward him. She also didn’t get into her car though. She stood there, frozen, wounded sounds coming from her throat.

  It tore at him more than anything else she could have done. He could handle her reprimands, the cold, hooded look she had perfected so well. But this injured thing standing before him, afraid to move, was more than he could resist.

  He took the purse from her hands and placed it on the car seat. Set the crutches against the car and pulled her into his arms. Instead of quieting her, his actions intensified her emotions. She cried all the harder, shaking in his arms. Her tears dampened his shirt, then wet it completely.

  He didn’t hurry her, made no attempt to stop the flow. Brushing her hair with one hand, holding her with the other, he kissed the top of her head and waited.

  After two minutes the sobs lessened. After three she drew in a few deep, ragged breaths.

  “I am so sorry,” she murmured.

  “I’m not.” He leaned back against the Honda, fitted her to him, and was surprised when she didn’t pull away.

  “This isn’t like me,” she whispered.

  “It’s the adrenaline, Dana.” He thought of how soldiers were trained to handle the destruction and carnage they both saw and wrought in the Army. How their training was sometimes helpful and at other times inadequate. Each man had his own way of coping with the things he did. For Ben, it always rested upon his faith and his family.

  The question was, what did Dana lean on?

  “I could see them,” she whispered. “All of them, on my wall. It was as if their bodies were already in the ground, their pictures framed—Cheryl, Captain, Clay, Sayeed.”

  She drew another ragged breath. “Even you.”

  “One less thorn in your side.” When she didn’t laugh, he rubbed her back and wished he could pull the words back. “You can’t be responsible for what evil men do, and you’ll make yourself crazy worrying about what might have happened.”

  She sniffled again and rubbed her nose against his shirt. He smiled at the gesture and resisted the urge to tease her. When she peered up at him in the near darkness, he felt something inside his chest drop down to his toes. She looked so absolutely guileless.

  “Why were you here tonight then?” she asked.

  He wiped the tears from her cheeks and considered his next words carefully. “Sayeed and I share a bond now. I needed to be here when he came around—for him and for myself. He would have done the same for me.”

  Dana had stopped crying, but she continued to look up at him.

  Ben didn’t have a lot of experience with women, would never claim to understand them. At that moment he only knew what was in his heart.

  He tilted his head and kissed her softly on the lips.

  As he’d imagined, she tasted like the honey his mother had served when he was a child.

  She pulled away slowly, both of her palms pressed flat against his chest. “I should go.”

  “I’ll drive behind you, make sure you get home safely.”

  For once, Dana didn’t argue.

  Nineteen

  Ben had no idea how to go about courting his boss. He was fairly sure it wasn’t called courting. He tried to explain that to his granddad on the phone the night before. Granddad had accused him of splitting hairs and said it all amounted to the same thing. He also insisted Ben take Dana flowers.

  Somehow as he studied her during the Monday morning briefing, he couldn’t imagine walking in with a bouquet of flowers. He’d get demoted faster than his Chevy could carry him out of Taos on Highway 68.

  Which reminded him Dana was his boss, and he shouldn’t even be considering a relationship with her.

  But that kiss. And the way she’d felt in his arms as she’d cried. Those flowers might be a good idea after all.

  “You sure your MRI came back clear?” Red asked as the meeting broke up.

  “Huh?” Ben looked around to see if the old codger was talking to someone else.

  “I’m talking to you, Marshall. Anyone else in this room have a bandaged head?”

  Red threw an arm around him, nearly knocking him over in the process, and walked him to the coffee machine.

  “Uh, no. I’m the only one with a head wound, but I didn’t have an MRI.”

  “My point exactly. Perhaps you should have. You’re looking a little dazed today.” Red poured them both a mug of coffee without asking and slapped one into Ben’s hand. “Drink this. It’s terrible for your stomach, but the acid reflux is bound to wake you up. You heard Dana, staff is split between the school guy and the semi-drivers. Lots of work to do.”

  Ben set the mug down without hazarding a drink. “Hang on, Red. Maybe that’s the point—to split our group in half. What if these two incidents are related?”

  Red ran his long fingers through his beard and took a sip of coffee, staring at Ben over the top of his mug. As he turned the mug in his hand, he shook his head.

  “Now I know you weren’t listening. Dana said at the beginning there were no connections between the two, then she went on to report on each. After that she divided us up. Did you sleep through the entire briefing?”

  “Hang on a minute.” Ben grabbed a napkin from the table and pulled a pen from the crossword puzzle cup. “How long has it been since you’ve seen two incidents of this magnitude?”

  Red sat in a chair and leaned it back on two legs, causing it to creak and groan. “Well, we haven’t had an explosion like Saturday’s round these parts ever, but that was your doing. And we’re grateful to you. Don’t take me wrong.”

  The big man frowned into his coffee, then took another drink. “As far as explosives of that magnitude going through our area, you’d have to go back four years.”

  Ben listed it on the napkin. “And two simultaneous incidents? Big ones?”

  Red shook his head, took another sip of coffee, and grimaced. “Nah. Not since I’ve been here. Heard Clay talk about something in White Sands a few years back, but those weren’t related. They proved it when they caught the guys.”

  “Okay. We’re assuming these are not related. Let’s for a minute suppose they are. How were we first notified about the trucks?”

  “Regional boys called it in.”

  “And how did they hear?”

  “Huh.” Red fidgeted in his chair. “I’ll have to check with Captain, but I think it was an anonymous tip.”

  Ben set the pen down and stared at Red. “How would someone anonymously know what was in those trucks?”

  Red shrugged. “Maybe a third party had a change of heart. It happens.”

  “Yeah. Possibly. But three days ago we had twenty-five people on the school guy’s case. Saturday we get an
anonymous tip and everyone’s pulled off.”

  “Which was the correct call,” Red pointed out. “Immediate danger takes precedent. Dana made the right decision, and you know it.”

  “Exactly my point. She did what she had to do—we know it—and I bet our schoolyard friend knows it too.”

  “He could have done a lot of things to divert our attention. A lot of smaller things than blow up a bridge and kill two people, not to mention injuring several federal employees.” Red stood, walked to the coffeepot, and poured another cup of coffee. “More?”

  “No. Thanks.” Ben tapped the pen against the napkin. “You’re right. This is out of proportion to the schoolyard, unless the schoolyard is a predecessor to something big.”

  Red frowned and shook his head, but Ben plunged on.

  “Something smaller wouldn’t have pulled us away. It wouldn’t have kept us away.”

  Red walked back to the table and sat down. “I’m not convinced, but say you’re right. How would he have known what we’re up to?”

  The pause lasted less than three seconds, long enough for their eyes to meet and their thoughts to follow the same path. Ben felt the instant their minds seized on the same answer. They stood and pushed their chairs back, left behind the coffee cups.

  Ben had reached the door before he realized he wanted the napkin with the notes. He hurried back to the table, snatched it up, and caught up with Red by the time he’d reached Dana’s door.

  “Morning, Red, Ben.” Dana looked at them with a small, polite smile. “You two need something?”

  “We’d like to talk to you,” Red said.

  “At the coffee shop,” Ben added.

  “Down the street.” Red jiggled his keys in his pockets. “I can drive.”

  Dana continued to look at them. When she didn’t accept the offer, Red added, “Or we could walk.”

  “Thank you, both. I appreciate it. I’m not very thirsty though, and if I were I’d probably drink some of our coffee.”

  Ben shot Red a look. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy. Walking across the room, he stepped around her desk.

  Dana popped to her feet the moment he entered her personal space. The woman was at least predictable. Well, she was predictable in some areas—the kiss had caught him off guard.