“Is that what she said?” For a moment he felt as if he was back on the force interrogating a suspect.
Sara looked up and met his gaze unflinchingly. “We never really talked about it.”
He could tell it was a lie. She knew exactly why her mother had left. Whatever the reason, it had hurt her then. And it was hurting her now.
Over the years Crow had given his own mother plenty of reasons to throw in the towel, but she’d always stood behind him. Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine that Sara had pulled half the stunts he had.
But he reminded himself, Sara’s mother might have left because of other reasons. In his years as a police officer, he’d seen many situations where a single mother had too many children and too little money to care for them. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
She shook her head. “Nope, just me.”
The excuse of too many mouths to feed vanished.
“Then why did she leave you?”
“I told you I don’t know,” she snapped. “I never asked.”
He was getting somewhere now. Any reaction was better than that cool facade that told him nothing. “Why not?”
If his gaze hadn’t been riveted to her face, he might have missed the flash of pain that momentarily clouded her features.
Sara’s fingers tightened around her salad fork. “My mother and I haven’t spoken in years.”
“Really?” Crow took a drink of his tea and ignored the tone in her voice that said the subject was off-limits. “Does she live in the area?”
“Don’t ask me.” Sara shrugged. “We lost contact years ago.”
He took another sourdough roll and studied her carefully. Her nonchalance didn’t ring true. “I could help you find her.”
“No!” She spoke so loudly, several people at a nearby table turned to stare.
Crow restrained a smile. He’d hit another nerve. After a slow start, this was turning out to be a very productive lunch. But he could tell by her bulldog expression that he’d gone as far as he dared today.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, subject closed.”
The first chance he got, he’d start doing a little digging. See what he could find out about Sara’s past. See what skeletons she might have in her closet. And see if whatever she was hiding might not just be coming back to haunt her.
Chapter Five
I could help you find her.
Despite a long midafternoon bubble bath, Sara’s tangled emotions were still as tightly strung as a guitar string. And it didn’t help that Crow’s offer kept running through her head like a broken record.
Sara tossed a still-damp strand of hair back from her face and rubbed the plum-scented lotion onto her legs with a vengeance. She’d known Crow would be trouble the minute she’d seen him.
Who did he think he was, offering to find her mother? If Sara had wanted to see the woman again, didn’t he think she would have done her own search before now?
She slathered the lotion on her shoulders and chest.
Not that she hadn’t considered it. Many, many times in fact. But among other things, the thought of what she’d say once they were face-to-face always stopped her.
The regret that Sara had borne stoically for so many years rose up and threatened to overwhelm her.
Sara swallowed hard. Was she destined to live with the guilt forever? She set the bottle of lotion down on the dressing table.
She should have known better. If she had known the repercussions, she never would have so much as looked at the money. She certainly never would have touched it. And above all she never would have taken it.
Sara sighed. She’d always believed in living in the present and leaving the past where it belonged, in the past.
For the past ten years, she’d successfully done just that. Every time a memory of her former life slipped through and invaded her thoughts, she’d quickly and deliberately shoved it back to the far recesses of her mind where all the sins of her past resided.
Although holidays and her birthday were still difficult, the ache in her heart when she thought of her mother and what had happened lessened with each passing year.
Then the notes started. She’d come back from an exhausting European tour to find the first one waiting. Despite Meg’s insistence that taking care of all correspondence was part of a manager’s duties, Sara still preferred to handle anything coming from the post office herself.
Sara remembered opening the envelope as if it was yesterday, instead of three months ago. Even without closing her eyes she could visualize the words and their placement on the plain white paper.
Would your fans still love you if they knew you were a thief?
Thankfully it was the only note she’d received that mentioned the money. The subsequent ones focused on pride and sin and God’s punishment.
It wasn’t God’s punishment that worried Sara—she knew He’d forgiven her—it was the punishment Gary Burke had in mind. Once she’d read the first note, Sara had known Gary wrote it. She would have given anything if it had been some crazy obsessed fan instead of him. A guy who no doubt blamed her for the time he’d spent in prison. And she knew involving the police would only make matters worse.
Sooner or later Gary would make his demands. Only then would she know what it would cost her to buy his silence.
It wouldn’t be cheap or easy. Gary had a mean streak a mile wide. If he could hurt her as well as take her money, she had no doubt he’d do it. After all, she’d experienced his cruelty firsthand.
That’s why she’d finally given in to Meg’s pressure and agreed to a bodyguard. The memory of what Gary’s knuckles could do to soft skin turned her stomach.
An alarm she’d set earlier buzzed noisily from the bedside stand. Sara shut it off and forced her attention to more immediate concerns.
James would be ringing the doorbell in thirty minutes. Punctuality, he often said jokingly, was his middle name, and he wouldn’t appreciate being kept waiting.
Tonight they were attending a black-tie cocktail party that James said was essential to her career. Last week he’d managed to snag a copy of the guest list. The names read like a Who’s Who of St. Louis. According to James, this would be the perfect opportunity to scout backers for her next tour.
Wait until he finds out Crow is coming.
Just thinking of James’s reaction forced the smile from Sara’s lips. Though she hated to stereotype anyone, Sara knew that Crow was anything but a black-tie kind of guy. With his long hair and menacing appearance, he’d probably stick out like a sore thumb.
But Crow had made a good point. What was the purpose in having a bodyguard if you left him at home?
Surprisingly he hadn’t balked when she’d told him he’d have to wear a tux. But he’d laughed when she’d added, “And cut your hair.”
She wondered where he’d be able to find a tux at this late hour. He’d seemed confident he could, but she had her doubts.
Her gaze shifted to the gold clock on her dresser and her eyes widened. Instead of worrying about what Crow would be wearing, she needed to be making some decisions herself.
Sara moved quickly to her walk-in closet, flung open the door and stepped inside. Her eyes scanned the long rack on the right that held nothing but party dresses.