Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,102
me nervous.”
“Langham’s in custody.”
She stared at him.
“We arrested him in Corpus Christi this afternoon.”
“We?”
“The Marshals arrested him. I observed.”
“You drove all the way down—”
“Yes.” He stepped over and rested his hands on her hips. “I needed to be there.”
Bailey’s heart was racing. She didn’t know why. She felt cold all over.
“Hey.” He frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I’m just . . . are you sure he’s in custody?”
“He’s in custody.”
She blinked up at him, not sure why she felt dizzy all of a sudden.
Jacob held her steady with one hand while he moved her crutches aside. Then he slid his arms around her and eased her against him.
“Take a deep breath.”
She did.
“I didn’t mean to spring that on you. I should have called you.”
“No, it’s fine.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “I’m just glad it happened. All the waiting and wondering has been making me crazy.”
And the anxiety attacks. And the insomnia. She’d been a wreck for three weeks, and it had been getting worse. She knew that it wasn’t only her mobility issues that had prompted Max to put her on desk duty for a while. She’d been distracted at work and making careless mistakes.
She leaned back against the counter and looked at Jacob. He cupped his palm against her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“How’d they track him down?” she asked.
He just looked at her, and she knew what that meant. He couldn’t talk about the details yet. Or maybe ever. And they’d agreed to respect each other’s work boundaries.
“Tell me this,” she said. “Do they have enough to keep him?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and sighed.
“You okay?”
“I didn’t realize how relieved I’d feel. It’s like there were these sandbags on my shoulders and you lifted them off.”
He smiled down at her, but his eyes looked concerned. She’d been trying not to let him know how stressed she’d been, but she hadn’t done a very good job of it. During the day was one thing, but nighttime was harder.
“Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll make us some plates?” He kissed her. “I’m starved.”
“Me too.”
She crutched into the living room and lowered herself onto the sofa. Boba Fett rubbed up against her leg. She scratched him behind the ears, and he let out a mew.
“Should I feed him?” Jacob asked from the kitchen.
“I already did. Don’t be fooled by his pitiful sound effects.”
She rested her crutches by the sofa and stared at her cast. She’d learned to get around pretty well on it. She was taking an Uber to work every day, and her editor had carved out plenty of phone assignments for her until she was able to drive again. The limitations were frustrating, but whenever she felt exasperated, she thought of Seth, and a deep sorrow overtook her self-pity.
The desk work was temporary. Bailey knew that. The series she’d written with Nico had garnered national interest and praise for the Herald. Practically overnight, Bailey had established a name for herself as a formidable investigative reporter. For the first time in months, she could go to work in the morning without the nagging fear that she would be summoned into a conference room and handed a cardboard box.
But her feelings of relief alternated with intense guilt over the human cost of what had happened. Tabitha’s life had been saved, but Seth’s was gone. Would one have happened without the other? Bailey would never know. But Seth had been determined to help Tabitha disappear, determined to give her back the anonymity that his company had stolen.
Would it work? Would Tabitha be able to create a new life for herself? Bailey had no idea where she was, and John Colt would never tell. Maybe she was in Barbados or Baja California or Nova Scotia. Bailey figured he’d helped her slip away to someplace remote where there weren’t surveillance cameras on every street corner. The world was running out of places like that.
Jacob set two plates of pizza on the table, along with their drinks. Then he sat down next to her.
“Come here.” He pulled her against him, and she rested her head on his chest.
“I thought you were starving.”
He sighed. “I need this first.”
She slid her arms around him, breathing in his familiar scent. Having his arms around her had become the highlight of her day.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“If it weren’t for you—” A hard lump clogged her throat. She swallowed it down. “I keep thinking about Seth.”
“Me too.”
“And Robin, and Scott Rydell,”