Dark Hearts. Sharon Sala

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СКАЧАТЬ college, he’d enlisted in the army and gone to war.

      After his second tour of duty he’d become a bomb tech, learning to defuse everything the enemy could construct, and then went back to war. Nine months later he came home in pieces, burned over half his body and with PTSD so bad that he didn’t turn on the ringer for his cell phone for three months. When he could move without screaming, he changed the ringtone to the opening notes of “Amazing Grace,” and when the hospital finally released him, he moved into an apartment without telling anyone where he was. He didn’t want his family camped out on his doorstep, bemoaning his condition or treating him like an invalid.

      It took close to a year for the burns to completely heal and for him to get mobile enough to go through rehab. It took even more time for him to accept himself. His family came to see him once he let them know where he was, but he wouldn’t go home. In his mind, Sam Jakes from Mystic, West Virginia, was dead and buried in the sands of Afghanistan, which meant Lainey Pickett was no longer a part of his life. He quit Lainey without giving her a chance to quit him first.

      Ten years and three psychiatrists later, he and PTSD had an unsettled truce, and the burn scars on his body looked like melted plastic. Except for the occasional visits his family made to Atlanta to see him, he communicated with them by phone. He lived for work and very little play, and on this particular day, he was trying to catch up on rest after a six-day stakeout.

      Although it had been raining with soggy persistency for more than six hours, Sam was sound asleep inside apartment 4B, stark naked and belly down on the king-size bed with his cell phone in one hand and a handgun in the other.

      In his dream, he was making love to Lainey. His fingers were tangled into the mane of red hair fanned out around her face, and he was hard as a rock and so deep inside her he couldn’t think. He could hear her short, breathless gasps as he pushed deeper into her, pounding harder until she suddenly arched up beneath him and wrapped her legs around his waist. He felt the climax roll through her and was about to come with her when he began hearing his brother cry out, calling his name. He turned to look for Lainey and she was gone. Then the tone of Trey’s voice changed to one of terror.

      Help me, Sam, help me!

      I’m here, Trey, I’m here! Where are you? What’s wrong?

      Then Sam began hearing music. Someone was playing “Amazing Grace.”

      And then he heard his brother scream.

      Sam woke abruptly, bathed in sweat and shaking. It took him a few moments to realize he’d been dreaming and his phone was ringing.

      He glanced at the time as he rolled over onto his back and answered the phone without checking to see who was calling.

      “This is Jakes.”

      “Sam, it’s me.”

      Sam frowned. Trey had been in his dreams and now he was on the phone? Sam didn’t like coincidences. And because his voice was still husky from sleep, the anxiety in his gut made him sound angry.

      “What the hell’s wrong?” he said.

      Trey started to cry, and Sam sat up with a jerk and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

      “Talk to me, brother.”

      “Mom’s dead, and Trina is hurt bad.”

      Sam grunted. It felt as if someone had just walked up behind him and coldcocked him with a baseball bat. His ears were ringing, and he couldn’t breathe. An ugly little voice in his subconscious was whispering, Dead. Dead. Everyone’s dead.

      He thought leaving the land of blood and sand would get him away from so many people dying, but death had come into his family. How could that be? The room began to spin as Sam lowered his head to keep from losing it.

      “Sam? Sam! Did you hear me?”

      Sam wasn’t sure he could speak, and when he finally did, his voice cracked with the shock of an overwhelming grief.

      “Yes. You said Mom was dead. She can’t be dead.”

      Trey was struggling with his own emotions, but hearing the heartbreak in his big brother’s voice hurt on a whole other level. “She is, buddy, she is.”

      “Oh, my God.” Sam was starting to shake. He had to focus. “Was it a wreck?”

      Trey knew this was going to send his brother over the edge, but it had to be said.

      “No, Sam, she was murdered. We believe she was killed for something that happened when she was a teenager. Come home. I need you. I’ll explain it all after you get here.”

      Sam’s voice went from shock to rage.

      “Teenager? Are you kidding me!”

      “No. We’re almost certain it has to do with the night she graduated high school, but beyond that it’s just supposition.”

      “How can you be sure?” Sam asked.

      “Do you remember the story of Mom being in that bad wreck the night she graduated?” Trey asked.

      Sam frowned. “Slightly. Why?”

      “There were four people in that wreck, and three of them lived. In the past two months, two of the survivors have been murdered, and the killer tried to make both deaths look like accidents. Until today, Mom was the only one still living.”

      Sam’s hands were shaking. “Why—”

      “We don’t know, and now that Mom became the third victim, they’re taking me off the case even though one of the murders happened in my jurisdiction. That’s why I need you,” Trey said.

      “I’m on my way,” Sam said, and hung up the phone, but he was pissed.

      Three victims? Why hadn’t he known this was happening? Why hadn’t they called him?

      He grabbed a suitcase from the back of his walk-in closet and threw it on the bed as reality reared its ugly head. Why would they call him? By his own actions he’d shown them he wanted no part of Mystic. It made him sick to think of Trey knowing Mom was in danger and not knowing how to protect her. Even worse, he couldn’t imagine how frightened his mom must have been as her classmates were being killed.

      Then he remembered a couple of recent phone calls from her that he hadn’t returned. What if that would have made a difference in her living or dying? He wasn’t sure how to live with that question.

      Suddenly his belly rolled and he headed for the bathroom. He got as far as the sink before the feeling of nausea passed. He splashed some water on his face and then leaned forward, staring at his image in the only mirror in the house. He would never hear his mother’s voice again, and that was on him.

      He grabbed a towel to dry his face, then went to the bedroom to get dressed. He was sick at heart and feeling so guilty he could hardly focus as he began to pack.

      The last thing he packed was an overcoat. At this time of year, there was no way to predict what the weather would be like in the mountains. He grabbed the suitcase, and then stopped to get his brown leather jacket out of the hall closet, settled a Stetson the color of dark chocolate СКАЧАТЬ