Anger, maybe?
But it was gone as quickly as it had come.
“I don’t know who killed your father,” she insisted. The riled expression might be gone, but there was a tinge of agitation in her voice.
Jack glanced at Lucille to see if she had an explanation for this change in Caroline’s attitude, and the nurse’s mouth tightened a little. “Caroline found some articles on the internet.”
Well, hell. That definitely explained it. There were plenty of sites that had gobs of sordid details about his father’s shooting. About Deputy Dusty Walters, who’d also died that night, too. And Caroline’s name came up often on those sites. Not in a good way, either. The press had had a field day with her because she’d disappeared. There’d been plenty of speculation that had gone along with questions about where she was and what’d happened to her.
Not many people knew the answer to that.
WITSEC had taken care of shielding her identity so that now she lived and worked in this house. In fact, work was the reason she had a laptop in the first place. The Justice Department had created a job for her where she was reviewing witness testimony in cases where no charges had been filed. It was one step above busy work, but obviously it hadn’t kept her busy enough.
“Yes, the filters are still on the computer,” Lucille assured him.
“I figured out how to get around them,” Caroline quickly confessed. “And no, it wasn’t something I remembered how to do. I just kept plugging away until I found a web page that the filter didn’t catch.”
Jack added another “hell.” He’d need to tell the doctors about this so they could deal with it during her weekly therapy session. A session that would, ironically, be done online, since Jack had wanted to limit Caroline’s visits into San Antonio along with also limiting the number of people who knew the location of the safe house. And he’d managed to do that by limiting that info to his partner, Lucille and his three brothers, who were all lawmen. Jack had wanted them to know in case they needed to make a quick response.
However, even with all the precautions they’d taken, Jack knew that the safe house information could be breached. Their computer filters were more elaborate than the ones on the laptop here, but someone determined to find Caroline could still get around them. A killer definitely fell into the “someone determined” category.
Caroline groaned softly and pushed her shoulder-length blond hair from her face. “I used to have a life. I’ve read about it,” she added in a grumble. “I came from almost nothing. My prostitute mother was killed by a drug dealer when I was eight, and I ended up in foster care.” She looked ready to tack on more to that recap of her childhood, but then she stopped, paused. “I gotthrough all of that to get a job working for one of the top criminal profiling experts.”
Jack nodded. Yep, all of that was true. She’d had a life, all right, and even though she was alive, she might never get that life back. Would certainly never undo the fallout to her reputation because of the work she’d done with that top expert.
What Caroline hadn’t just mentioned in the rundown of her life was her police record. A sealed juvie rap sheet that she wouldn’t have been able to access without the prime hacking skills that she’d had before she lost her memory.
This woman with the angel face and almost fragile-looking body had been arrested when she was fifteen for hacking into multiple state records to find the dealer who’d killed her mother. Caroline had then stolen a car, tracked down the man and managed to bash him in the gut with a baseball bat before calling the cops to come and get him. The cops had gone easy on her because of the extenuating circumstances, but she’d still spent some time in juvie lockup.
“I saw a picture of Eric Lang,” Caroline went on. She groaned again. “I suppose you know all there is to know about him.” But she waved that off. “Of course, you do. You’re a marshal. You’re Sheriff Buck Slater’s son.”
Jack stayed quiet, but he knew Eric all right. Eric had been the research assistant for Caroline and her boss/friend Gemma Hanson at the college where the three of them had been working on a new computer program for profiling serial killers. The irony was that Eric himself had been a serial killer, and neither Gemma nor Caroline had picked up on it. Eric had hidden it from the women. From everyone. Then, Eric had nearly killed both Caroline and Gemma when he’d taken them hostage. That was what had sent Jack’s father to an abandoned hotel, where he’d been killed.
Gemma had managed to escape that night. Caroline hadn’t. Eric had taken her and disappeared into the darkness with her. No one, not even Caroline, was certain what had happened after that, but she’d shown up in Longview Ridge a year later. Because of her amnesia, though, she hadn’t been able to tell them what’d happened to her.
“Eric is dead,” Jack reminded her. “He was shot and killed three months ago, shortly after you came back to Longview Ridge.”
Of course, he’d already told her that, and she had almost certainly read about it in those internet articles, but Jack wanted to spell it out for her that she didn’t have to be afraid of Eric. He couldn’t come after her again.
“Was I stupid?” she blurted out. Man, the anger had returned with a vengeance, not just in her tone but in her expression. “Was that why I couldn’t see a serial killer was working right next to me?”
Jack hated to see her beating herself up like this. “You definitely weren’t stupid. I met Eric, too, and I didn’t make him for a killer. A lot of people didn’t.”
That didn’t seem to appease her one bit. Her forehead still stayed bunched up, making the scar there even more obvious. A scar that she’d gotten during her captivity. Possibly from Eric, when he’d clubbed her on the head that night she was taken hostage. Of course, until Caroline got back her memory, she wouldn’t be able to confirm if that was what had actually happened.
“And what aboutus?” Caroline threw out there.
Lucille’s gaze fired to Caroline, then him. Jack didn’t know what to make of the question, either. In the past three months, Caroline hadn’t asked about them as a couple, but that was because Jack had never stayed around for an actual conversation. He visited twice a week, to check if Caroline’smemory had returned. And once Lucille and Caroline assured him that it hadn’t, he always left.
Just as Lucille did now.
The nurse must have thought they needed some privacy, because she mumbled something about needing to get something from her bedroom and walked out. Jack hadn’t even been sure that Lucille knew Caroline and he had once been lovers.
Had been in love, he mentally corrected.
Jack hadn’t talked about that with Lucille or anyone else, for that matter. Still, maybe Lucille had picked up on something or had been doing her own reading about Caroline. That would only be natural, he supposed, since Lucille and Caroline lived under the same roof, and Lucille was partly responsible for Caroline’s safety.
“There was something aboutusin the articles you read?” Jack countered.
