Silent Surrender Read online

  “What are those two?”

  “With the Vibrant Soundbridge, an electronic receiver is implanted behind the ear. A wire leads down to an electromagnet that’s attached to one of the middle ear bones. The brain interprets the vibrations as sound. The cochlear ones are electronic systems that send sound-generated impulses directly to the cochlea. Mine is surgically implanted and not visible like most hearing aids.” She paused and glanced at him, and he urged her to continue. “My father worked on the project years ago, but they didn’t have the technology to make it successful. When the Coastal Island Research Park opened the center on Catcall, the project was revamped. I’m the first person to receive this implant. It’s still in the clinical trial stages.”

  He let that information sink in. Could there be some element of the hearing implant that allowed her to pick up sounds far away? “If your hearing is more acute, why aren’t you being bombarded by constant noises and voices?”

  “I am, but it’s sporadic. The doctor said there may be some residual sounds, even a delayed reaction. Like a stroke patient, my nerves and brain have to learn to work together again.”

  He frowned. “What else did you hear? Did my sister call this man’s name?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did you hear any sounds in the background? Anybody else in the room?”

  She pressed her fingers to her temple in thought— either that or she had a headache—then answered no.

  “Did he say where he was taking her?”

  “No.”

  He cursed in frustration and saw her flinch, then forced himself to ask the question he’d been avoiding. “Did he say what he planned to do to her?”

  Emotions etched themselves on her face. She’d been affected by the woman’s cries, he realized, then found himself wondering why he believed her now when earlier he’d thought she was a kook. He wished to hell she’d talk, too, instead of scribbling on that damned computer.

  Just once he wanted to hear her voice, to see if it sounded low and sexy or if she’d speak in a soft purr or…

  He shook the thoughts away, focusing on her writing.

  “He didn’t say exactly, only that she should shut up or he would kill her. But…” she hesitated, watched his reaction, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to reveal the details of the woman’s attack.

  “Look, don’t hold anything back. If this man has my sister, time might be running out.”

  Her gaze remained glued to his mouth as if she were reading his lips, then she wrote, “When I heard them in the hospital, I thought he knocked her unconscious because I heard a thud as if she’d fallen to the floor.”

  “Meaning the man might have already killed her.”

  “I don’t think so, I heard her moan. Then they argued later.”

  “You went back to the hospital?”

  “No, I heard them—” she hesitated again “—here at home.”

  Was she telling the truth? How was it possible?

  She’d read the questions in his eyes. “I was trying to sleep, but I had a bad headache. The rain, the sirens, it’s too much.” She frowned. “Probably the delayed hearing the doctor mentioned. The voices I heard here must have been part of the conversation I overheard at the hospital and I’m just now remembering it.”

  He waited, his teeth gritted. “What else?”

  “She was begging him not to hurt her. He warned her she’d feel a slight sting, she cried out, then everything went quiet again.”

  “He drugged her.” The realization sickened Adam, but at least maybe Denise was still alive. But why would someone kidnap and drug her?

  The possibilities raced through his mind. A jealous co-worker at the research center? Her husband who’d been bitter about the separation? Or worse, a stranger who’d been stalking her and planned to do God knew what?

  AN HOUR LATER, Sarah collapsed with exhaustion, praying the detective would find his sister and that she wouldn’t hear the voices again. She couldn’t stand the pain in the woman’s cries.

  Then again, if she didn’t hear the woman’s voice, she wouldn’t be able to help her. And she had never backed down from anything in her life. She couldn’t let her fears keep her a prisoner.

  She stared at the card the detective had left on the table with his phone number. Without even knowing Adam Black, he pulled at feelings so dormant she thought they’d died completely after her disastrous relationship with her old boyfriend, Kevin.

  Maybe she was afraid, she admitted silently, but she didn’t want to see Detective Black again. His eyes and body blazed with anger and attitude, the kind of cold, harsh facade that would hold any woman at arm’s length. He was in control and would want to control everyone around him, especially someone he considered weaker. Someone with a handicap.

  But he obviously loved his sister.

  She hoped he found her before it was too late.

  Determined to banish him from her mind, she turned her thoughts to her normal life. To the school for the deaf where she’d been teaching. Pulling out her plan book, she checked the plans she’d penciled in for the substitute teacher. Her class would take a hike tomorrow to collect items for a nature collage. Then they’d watch a film about the seasons and the rebirth spring promised. Just as she thought she’d have a rebirth when she’d regained her hearing. She’d taken a six-week leave of absence following her surgery to recover and acclimate herself to living in a hearing world.

  Now, for some odd reason, she found herself wanting to return to the safety of the silent world she’d always lived in. Back to her teaching job at the school, to her co-workers, who communicated the way she did—with sign language. Back to the safety of knowing she didn’t have to interact with dangerous, sexy men like Adam Black.

  Men who made her want to be whole again.

  Chapter Four

  Adam spent a restless night trying to forget the magnetic pull between him and Sarah Cutter. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something about the woman unleashed his baser instincts. She was troubled, confused and just about the most needy woman he’d ever met.

  Yet, he was the one who felt needy in her presence. As if he might shrivel up if he didn’t touch her. He didn’t like the feeling. Adam Black was a loner. He took care of himself and his sister; he didn’t need anyone else.

  Hell, when had he last woken up in a sweat from wanting a woman? A long damn time.

  Because he’d learned the hard way. The last time he had gotten involved with a woman, a witness, named Pamela, the end had been disastrous. He’d been too distracted by her to focus on his job, and it had cost her her life.

  Now his job, staying in control, was everything— it had to be.

  Determined to squash the emotions churning through him, he took a cold shower and dressed. When he’d arrived home the night before, he’d tried to contact Denise’s research assistant, but supposedly the man’s grandmother had died and he’d flown to Los Angeles for the funeral. Adam had stayed up half the night researching hearing implants on the Internet, looking at the latest developments in technology. But he found nothing on a device that might allow a person to hear through walls or serve as a transmitter.

  Clayton met him at the station. “Uh-oh, Black, you’re not going to like this.”

  Adam stared in shock at the headliner on a local tabloid, his mind reeling as he read the article.

  Hearing Things?

  Cold War spy’s daughter who has been deaf for twenty years claims to have heard evidence of a kidnapping, possible murder!

  Sarah Cutter ended twenty years of silence four days ago when she received surgically implanted hearing aids by doctors at the research center on Catcall Island, the new facility which has been linked with the government-owned buildings on Nighthawk Island.

  Late Thursday afternoon, she rushed to the police claiming that while she was in the hospital she overheard a woman being abducted….

  The article continued to describe what Sarah had told him, then launc
hed into an account of how she’d lost her hearing.

  Twenty years ago, five-year-old Sarah lost her hearing in the explosion that killed both her parents. Her father, Dr. Charles Cutter, a scientist and former Navy lieutenant, had been working on a secret project for the government developing a listening device to be used in the Cold War. Cutter’s technology died with his death. Evidence later verified that Cutter had made a deal to sell the device to the Russians. Reports confirmed that Cutter’s n wife discovered his intentions and had planned to turn him over to the government. When Cutter realized his wife’s plans, he set fire to their house, but was accidentally caught in the explosion and killed as well. Some speculate he might have killed himself to avoid facing a court-martial and prison sentence. A close friend and one of Cutter’s co-workers, Sol Santenelli, arrived just in time to rescue the five-year-old child from the burning home. Dr. Santenelli is now the director of the CIRP, Coastal Island Research Park.

  Although Sarah underwent stringent psychological evaluations, as well as several surgeries which were unsuccessful in repairing her hearing loss, she never spoke afterward. Cutter was buried with a dishonorable discharge.

  Adam scrubbed his hand across his face.

  Why hadn’t Sarah told him about her past? Did she know exactly what her father had been working on? Of course, the CIA and FBI had sophisticated listening devices now, but twenty years ago the technology would have been cutting edge and worth a small fortune.

  Clayton whistled. “Pretty interesting, huh?”

  “Yeah. But why the hell did Sarah Cutter go to the tabloids with the story?”

  “Maybe she wanted the attention. She might have made up the whole story just to get her name in the paper.”

  Clayton might be right. The story didn’t exactly paint a picture of a healthy emotional female.

  Then again, he’d seen the fear on her face when she’d described the kidnapping. Growing up with a handicap, she had to have faced ridicule before. Yet, she’d come to them with the bizarre story knowing they would laugh at her. Either she was lying or she had a great deal of courage.

  He knew that kind of courage. And he had to admire it.

  He had to talk to her again. Crazy or not, attraction or not, she might be the key to finding his sister.

  But if there was any truth to Sarah’s story, printing her name in the papers had put her in danger.

  SARAH HUGGED each of the children in her class, grateful to spend the afternoon with some sense of normalcy.

  “Is it fun to be able to hear?” five-year-old Jason signed.

  “What does music sound like?” curly-haired Claire asked.

  Betty Ann clapped her hands. “And the choo-choo train? I always wanted to hear a train whistle!”

  Sarah waved for them all to pay attention and signed, “My hearing isn’t perfect yet, so I don’t understand all the sounds around me. I feel like a kindergartner again, having to recognize certain sounds and name them.”

  The kids giggled.

  “Some sounds are lovely, but some are harsh and loud, like the horns honking and bulldozers. The fire engine and ambulance siren is loud and screechy and sends a chill up my back.”

  The children’s eyes widened in awe as she eed, many of them unable to imagine what the word sound truly meant. They had been taught that vibrations produced sound, but learning about them and experiencing them were two different things, especially for the children born totally deaf or with a profound hearing loss.

  “I can’t distinguish tones yet so I still haven’t been able to enjoy music, but the doctors say my hearing should improve daily.”

  “Will you come back?” Jason asked.

  “Yes, soon.” Sarah hugged each of them again, then turned to the director of the center, Adrianne Waters. “I miss everyone so much.”

  “Are you adapting to life in the hearing world?” Adrianne asked.

  Sarah forced a stiff smile and signed, “Yes. Take care of my babies here.”

  Adrianne laughed, the first beautiful sound Sarah had heard. Adrianne had suffered her hearing loss when she was a teen, so her language skills were advanced. Maybe she could help Sarah with her speech.

  When she was ready.

  And maybe Adrianne would be the next volunteer for a hearing implant.

  Right now, Sarah simply wanted to go home and lie down. The twinge of a headache wore at her, as did a slight ringing in her ears. Exhaustion crept up on her, too, from her sleepless night. For hours she’d lain awake, waiting for the voices, hoping they wouldn’t come, then hoping they would so she’d know Denise Harley was still alive.

  So she’d have good news to tell Adam Black.

  ADAM HAD BEEN pacing on Sarah’s front stoop for thirty minutes. He’d finally convinced himself to leave when he saw her walking down the sidewalk. She looked pale and tired, but she was alive and safe. He breathed a sigh of relief. Worry had dogged him all afternoon. At the same time, anger made him want to shake her.

  Her steps faltered momentarily when she spotted him, then she raised her chin and strode toward him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to touch her. She looked so damn vulnerable and sexy that his groin tightened. The soft fabric of her dress clung to her subtle curves and that long dark hair was blowing in the breeze, giving him a glimpse of the sultry line of her neck. Once again that magnetic draw between them heated up. He wanted to hold her, just once. To hear her voice.

  But he wouldn’t.

  She faced him with raised brows as if to ask why he’d come.

  “We have to talk.”

  She nodded curtly, unlocked her door and started to step inside, but he pressed a gentle hand on her back to still her and stepped inside first. He glanced around, his breath easing out when he found everything in order.

  She frowned at him, as if she had no idea why he’d go into her apartment first. But old habits were hard to break, and his cop instincts made him suspicious. And cautious.

  She led him to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. But he didn’t want coffee. He wanted answers.

  He spped the paper on the table. “What’s this all about?”

  She startled at the sound of his sharp voice and glanced at the table. But her face paled when she read the headline.

  She didn’t know about the article?

  Her gaze rose to his, shadows haunting her eyes as she toyed with the necklace again. He wondered what significance the locket had, whether she had pictures inside?

  He crossed his arms, determined not to be distracted by her vulnerability or the sizzle of attraction between them.

  “Did you talk to that scumbag?” Adam asked.

  She shook her head no. Then with trembling fingers, she picked up the paper and began to read.

  SARAH COULDN’T believe this was happening.

  Baring It All— Hearing Things?

  Dear heavens.

  She scanned the article, her stomach growing queasy. The reporter had lied to her—he didn’t work for the Savannah Times. He worked for a sleazy tabloid. And he’d printed her life story in the paper for everyone to read. She twisted the chain around her neck, thinking of the picture of her mother inside. Once it had held a photo of her father, as well.

  But she’d taken it out when she’d learned the truth about him.

  How had the reporter gotten this story? And why dredge up things that had happened twenty years ago?

  Her mind raced back to the police station. He must have seen the note she’d written to the detectives. Had they shown it to him?

  No, Detective Black obviously hadn’t. She skimmed the last paragraph and her legs buckled. Robey Burgess made her sound like a lunatic. Sol would be furious. Shaken, she sank into the chair and met Adam’s gaze.

  Obviously, he thought she’d sold her story just to see her name in the headlines.

  “Did you give him the story?”

  She shook her head again and mouthed the word no.

  The detective moved t
oward her. He surprised her by reaching out with one big thumb and slowly wiping a tear from her cheek. “Did you talk to him at all?”

  She inhaled sharply, fighting the strong need to hold on to him. “He followed me to the car after I left the police station, but I told him to leave me alone,” she wrote on a piece of paper.

  “That was the reason you raced out of the parking lot?”

  She nodded and started to scribble an explanation, but her hands were shaking so badly she dropped the pen and it rolled across the floor.

  He sat down beside her, then shocked her by pulling her hands into his larger ones. His touch felt amazingly gentle. His dark eyes watched her, caressing her with a kind of tenderness she hadn’t expected, causing a slow ache to burn in her belly. How long had it been since a man had touched her? Had looked at her in any way ecept pity?

  How long had it been since a man had wanted her?

  But what would a strong, tough man like Adam Black see in a woman like her?

  “I have to warn you, Sarah,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but if you did hear something about my sister, the fact that the story was printed could put you in danger.”

  “LOOK, SOL, I didn’t talk to the reporter. In fact I refused to,” Sarah signed in frustration. As if the meeting with Adam hadn’t left her rattled enough, Sol had arrived on her doorstep the moment Adam had driven away. She couldn’t believe she’d actually mistaken the detective’s concern for her, his interest in the information she had, as interest in her personally. She was a fool. He’d told her to be careful, to call if she remembered anything else. Then he’d left her place like a man on a foxhunt, and for some odd reason, she’d felt very alone.

  “Sarah?”

  Sol’s voice pulled her back to the moment. “He followed me and talked to someone at the police department,” she signed, not wanting to tell him about the note, “or maybe he eavesdropped.”