But the thing that was really tearing her apart was Ash.
He would hate her. If she’d told them straightaway that she’d recognized Adams, maybe they could have found Tara before they’d harmed her. Christian Roth had a lot of contacts. He might have at least been able to kick up enough fuss to ensure that Tara wasn’t tortured.
But she hadn’t told them, because she believed the system.
She’d been a naive idiot.
Ryan once told her that there were no such things as bad guys and good guys, only shades of in-between. She hadn’t believed him then. And she still didn’t. Not really. She still believed there was good and bad, she was just no longer sure of who was what, and the uncertainty left her floundering.
Ash would hate her for this. But again, did it really matter? In some ways, it would be better that way. He was starting to care for her, the fact that he’d come to her last night when he was in need of respite from his worries, told her that.
She didn’t know how long she had left, but she certainly wasn’t in a position to offer any man “forever.” Better their growing relationship get cut off now, before Ash got in any deeper and lost her anyway. And at least he wouldn’t have long to hate her.
Who would have thought that dying could be considered a positive?
Freeing Tara was the next order of business. Maybe the first thing was to check how good her new security clearance was. As she came out of the restroom, she glanced across at the colonel’s door. It was closed—a sure sign he was in residence.
She headed back the way they had gone earlier. Last time, the colonel had opened the doors; this time she used her own card and bent her face to the panel for the retinal scan. Each time the doors slid open.
By the time she hit the lower corridor where Tara’s cell was located, she was a juddering wreck of nerves. Maybe she shouldn’t have risked this—it might only draw attention to her. But she wanted to check she could make it through on her own.
A guard stood at the door. Faith didn’t recognize him.
“I wanted to check—is she conscious?”
“Yes, ma’am”
She peered through the glass at the front. Tara was huddled in her corner, but she raised her head as though she could sense someone watching her. Did she know who had her imprisoned?
Faith backed away. “Do you know where her personal effects are?”
“Down the corridor. In the office on the left.”
She found the office staffed by another young priest. He seemed unfazed when Faith flashed her ID and asked to see Tara’s things. He handed her a clear plastic bag. It contained Tara’s clothes, a small handbag, a watch, and the pendant Tara had been wearing that night. Faith went through the bag. Was she still trying to find some justification for this, some evidence that Tara was not the innocent, young woman she appeared? But there was nothing. Finally, she picked up the pendant and dangled it from the silver chain. And she realized that was why she had come here. To get this one thing.
Tara had told her the necklace was a gift from her father. From Ash. Faith glanced up, the priest was immersed in a game of spider solitaire, and she slipped the pendant in her pocket.
There was nothing here to help her or change her mind about what she had to do and she made her way back upstairs. She headed to the main entrance instead of back to her desk. Guy, her babysitter for the day, sat in the coffee shop across the street. He didn’t acknowledge her as she appeared, but she made her way to where he sat.
She didn’t want to use her cell phone; she wasn’t sure that it was private anymore. There was a queue in the coffee shop. As she took her place at the back, she sensed Guy come up behind her. She turned and spoke quietly, “Can I borrow your phone?”
He looked at her for a few seconds, then pulled it out of his pocket and slipped it to her discreetly.
She took it to the ladies’ room and stood thinking for a moment.
Who to call? She had three choices. She pulled out her own phone for the numbers and dialed Ash first. Feeling distinctly queasy as she waited for him to answer, she forced herself count the rings. She wasn’t allowed to end the call until it reached twenty and she was sure he wouldn’t answer. But in fact, voice mail kicked in at ten.
“It’s Faith, call me. It’s urgent. About Tara,” she added the last as she suspected that if it wasn’t about Tara right now, it wouldn’t be urgent to Ash. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a child. She’d never thought about children of her own. She’d always been too involved in her career.
No point worrying about what could have been.
She tried Ryan next. This time praying he would pick up. Because next on her list was Christian Roth, and she so didn’t want to make that call.
But Ryan picked up almost straightaway. “Guy? Is there a problem?”
Caller ID must have come up. Ryan sounded sleepy. What was he doing napping in the afternoon?
“It’s Faith,” she said.