She Can Hide (She Can #4)(5)

Was she breathing?

He pressed his ear to her chest.





CHAPTER TWO

Abby coughed and sputtered. Hands rolled her onto her side. Water poured from her nose and mouth, burning her sinuses and throat. A violent quake rattled her bones.

She’d never been so cold. She felt like she’d slept in a snowbank.

“Thank God,” a deep male voice said.

She opened her eyes. Brilliant blue eyes focused on her with laser intensity. She squeezed her lids shut for a second. When she opened them, the rest of his lean features sharpened. Rivulets of water ran from his short black hair down his face. His teeth rattled behind blue-tinted lips, and his body shivered in a drenched police uniform.

“I’m Officer Ethan Hale.” His broad shoulders hunched over her. One hip perched on the edge of the large backseat of his police car, the cramped space creating a few square inches of body contact. Ignoring his own shakes, he spread a blanket over her and tucked it around her torso. “What’s your name?”

She could hear the whoosh of the car heater on full, but the blowing air wasn’t enough to penetrate multiple layers of wet cloth. She harnessed her strength to control her shuddering jaw and spit out a few stuttered words. “Th-thank you. I’m Abby Foster.”

Thank you seemed inadequate, but what else could she say to a man who’d waded into a frozen river to save her?

“Can you tell me what happened? Did you slide off the road?”

It seemed like a reasonable assumption to her, but her molars were clacking too hard for her to answer. A vision of water rising to the roof of her car filled her head. Nausea and creek water churned in her belly as she revisited her panic. Her breaths quickened.

“Easy.” He pulled the blanket up to her chin. “It’s OK. You’re safe.”

Gratitude, suspicion, and a thousand other conflicting emotions crowded Abby’s throat. His soaking wet uniform was a reminder he was a cop. Yes, he’d risked his life to save her, but she’d learned the hard way that the police could never be fully trusted. Most people couldn’t be trusted.

Scratch that. She’d moved to Westbury specifically to leave everything about her past behind. Horrible memories invaded her former home every night when darkness fell. She’d tired of the pitying glances from everyone who knew her story, or thought they knew what had happened to her. The whole story never went public. Most people yearned for excitement, but all Abby wanted was a quiet, normal life.

A complete transformation was necessary to achieve her goal, inside as well as out. Changing her address wasn’t enough. Her suspicious attitude didn’t apply to her new life either. Ordinary law-abiding citizens trusted the police, and Abby was determined to be normal.

A siren approached, saving her from further scrutiny. The cop eased back. He opened the car door. Abby nearly cried as frigid air swept over her freezing body. Her muscles cramped, and her bones and teeth ached. He withdrew from the vehicle to flag down the rescue vehicles.

In short order, she was bundled into the ambulance and wrapped in warm blankets. The paramedic started an IV, the heated liquid warming her from the inside out.

Truthfully, she’d love to answer the policeman’s questions. What had happened? How did she end up in a river? And why couldn’t she remember?




While the paramedics took charge of Ms. Foster, Ethan retrieved his coat and belt from the riverbank. The fact that she was still shivering was a good sign. Conscious and talking, she seemed as if she’d be all right. He stopped at his cruiser to change his soaked shoes for the boots in his trunk. Then he walked toward the waiting ambulance and perched on the rear bumper while the medics settled Ms. Foster inside. One of the EMTs wrapped a blanket around Ethan’s shoulders and gave him a quick assessment.

A dark-blue SUV parked on the shoulder, and Police Chief Mike O’Connell got out. Ethan’s boss swept a knit cap off his red hair and zipped his coat to his chin as he walked over. A slight limp was the only sign of the knife wound that nearly killed him three months before. After several months of recuperation, the chief was nearly back to his collegiate wrestler shape. O’Connell handed Ethan the cap and crossed his arms over his massive chest. Worried pale blue eyes scanned Ethan from head to toe. “Are you all right?”

“Soon as I change I’ll be fine.” Ethan’s teeth chattered, making the words hard to enunciate. “That water is damned cold, though.”

With a relieved sigh, the chief nodded toward the river. “Any idea what happened?”

“No. I’ll have to get her statement at the hospital.” Shivering, Ethan summarized the event while the medic took his vital signs.

The chief scanned the scene. “I don’t see any skid marks.”

“Road’s slippery.” Ethan dug a toe at the asphalt. The surface was more than wet. “Black ice.”

“If she applied the brakes, there should be some sign of a skid.” The chief walked to the shoulder of the road. His critical gaze swept from the snow-dusted road to the car bumper sticking out of the river. He squatted to inspect the tire tracks in the mud and frowned. The car had left twin furrows in the roadside muck. The ruts were too neat and smooth. There were no signs that the vehicle had swerved or slid on its descent down the embankment. “I don’t like it.”

Suspicion slid down Ethan’s back, along with a drop of melted sleet.