Hidden Twin. Jodie Bailey
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from it. It sounds like Jesus. A lot of athletes who are injured, especially at the levels I was shooting for, have their whole lives change when they’re injured. Entire careers get derailed. Dreams die. There are psychologists and counselors for that sort of thing, but I know a lot of people talk to their physical therapists and open up more on the table than while sitting on a couch in a counseling session. I figured I should know something about how to help someone whose world has been completely rocked and their dreams shattered in a way they never saw coming.” She trailed off and ran a finger along the stitching in the seat between them. “I never realized when I was taking all of those classes that all those things I learned would apply to me someday. Or that I’d never get to use my real training. I got to gather up all of my knowledge and teach instead.”
“Has teaching been that bad?”
“I’ve actually enjoyed it, but I miss me. I miss having goals and plans and dreams. It’s been three years and I’ve never figured out what I want to do with this new life. Good thing, since it’s gone now too.” She pulled her hand into her lap and balled her fists between her knees. “Maybe that’s why I never came up with a new dream, because some part of me always knew this day would come and it would all be snatched away again.”
“I’m sorry.” He truly was. Somehow, this whole detour in her life felt like his fault.
“Thanks, but you’re trying to protect me. This is Grant Meyer’s fault. All the more reason to see him locked away forever.”
Sam exhaled a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Sometimes, when things got too heated, a witness would back down and decide not to testify. While Amy had turned over enough evidence to condemn Meyer without her testimony, federal prosecutors needed her to be willing to testify if any questions came up about those documents and how she’d obtained them.
“I have no regrets about my decision to turn my boss over to the authorities. A lot of people were freed from a terrible man’s clutches.” Her expression turned pensive, and she fingered the antique watch on her wrist. The leather band was scratched and worn, and the crystal over the gold face bore a small crack near the bezel. “I just hope they got far enough.”
“There something special about that watch?”
Amy blanched, her cheeks going pale as she laid her hand over the watch’s face as though she could hide it and possibly even erase it from Sam’s memory completely.
Something was very wrong here. He’d merely asked because the way she absently ran a finger across it made it appear to be some sort of security blanket. He’d thought it might have belonged to her husband or someone in her husband’s family. Now, his radar pinged on high.
Innocent people didn’t have things to hide. The way she was protecting that timepiece, there was no doubt...
Amy Brady was hiding something big.
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