Fatal Memories

by Tanya Stowe

  She met his level gaze. “Not to mention the fact that others are taking care of me. You’re giving up your whole life. Don’t you have a home, a place to be?”

  “You are my ‘place to be’ right now, Joss.” How she wished that were true. Wished she could relax and enjoy the home-cooked meals, the green-eyed gazes, the smiles and the hymns...especially the hymns. She wondered if he knew he sang. Nothing would make her feel better today than sitting on the couch and watching football with Dylan. Maybe it would bring back other memories...doing the one thing she knew they could do together.

  And then cold washed over her in a shocking wave. Maybe Dylan had a woman in his life. Not a wife, because he wasn’t wearing a ring, but a girlfriend...perhaps a fiancée. Someone he was neglecting so he could take care of her. Someone he had to explain to and make understand why he was spending every minute with a strange woman. Did he sing for her? Did she love his voice as much as Joss did?

  All the times she had clung to him flashed through her mind. All his discomfort and sideways glances came back to her. The almost-guilty glances. Were they guilty because she counted on him so much and he had someone who needed and counted on him even more?

  A rush of guilt overwhelmed her. She was doing it again. Daydreaming about a relationship when so many other things were at stake.

  Why can’t I remember?

  Someone knocked at her door, causing her to jump. Dylan saw her reaction. “It’s just the officers coming to watch over you.”

  Clamping down on the fear tripping along her nerves, she nodded. Dylan answered the door. A man in a green border-patrol uniform stood outside.

  “Henderson, what are you doing here? I thought one of the municipal police would be here.”

  The blond man gestured toward the patio. “He’s on guard outside. I volunteered to take the second watch over Joss today.”

  Second watch. So many people being so kind. Did she deserve it?

  Henderson looked over Dylan’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, Joss. It’s good to see you up.”

  The tone of his voice indicated he was another of the friends she couldn’t remember. She wanted to slink away and pretend she didn’t hear him. Instead she rose to her feet and walked to the door.

  After what seemed to her like a very awkward pause, she put out her hand. “Hello. I take it we’re friends.”

  Henderson’s eyebrows rose in surprise. After a moment he smiled and gripped her hand in a firm shake. “Daniel Henderson. And yes, we are friends. We came up through the ranks together. Had a lot of postings at the same checkpoints. Together we’ve seen more of Southern Arizona than my wife and I have.”

  He grinned at his joke and tilted his head slightly, almost as if he hoped the reminder would get a reaction. But Henderson, Jenny and all the others had disappeared into the gray mist of forgetfulness.

  Henderson’s smile faded. “Don’t worry. You’ll remember soon. We had some epic times together. No way will you forget those for good.”

  Joss smiled. She couldn’t help herself. Henderson was likable and seemed like a good friend.

  “I’ve got to get going.” Dylan grabbed his wallet and keys off the counter. “I’ll return later today. I can’t give you a time, Joss.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, trying to hold herself together as he walked to the door. He hesitated. “You’ll be all right.”

  She smiled quickly. Too quickly.

  Dylan didn’t seem to believe her either.

  “What are you going to do?”

  She lifted her lips in a smile, even if it was a bit shaky. “I’m going to spend the time meeting me.”

  Dylan smiled. All her discomfort washed away in his hazel-eyed glance...a look she already enjoyed too much. She stepped forward and pushed him out the door. “Go on. Get to work. I’ll be fine.”

  After closing the door, she leaned against it.

  If only I believed that.

  * * *

  Dylan said goodbye to Holmquist and turned on the ignition of his vehicle. Pausing to take the call from the supervisor was making him late for his appointment. But it was worth it.

  Finally a real break in the case...and all because of Joss.

  Holmquist had a name to go with the license plate she had identified. The car belonged to a woman named Lena Jones. Maybe they’d finally move forward on this case. He hoped so. They desperately needed a break, because it didn’t appear that Joss’s memory was going to return anytime soon.

  Leaving her this morning was the last thing Dylan wanted to do. He hoped being home would trigger something. And he needed to be there when it did. That’s why he regretted leaving this morning, not because she’d looked at him in fear, with her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to hold it in.

  And certainly not because of the slight cucumber scent that flowed around her. She smelled fresh, clean, reminding him of all the things he loved about summer. Swimming pools. His mother’s garden. He hadn’t thought of that in years. And he certainly didn’t need to think of it now. Joss might be on the verge of remembering, and he needed to be there when she did. That was all.

  But an image jumped into his mind... Joss clutching her arms around herself, trying to stop the trembling. Wincing when the thunder broke outside her window. Looking into his eyes with such trust—trust he wasn’t sure he deserved. Dylan shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to worry. Now was the time to focus. To find answers.

  One of his agents, Manuel Gonzalez, had requested a meeting. Gonzalez had a female contact with important info, but she wanted a deal...something Gonzalez wasn’t able to provide. Dylan had to meet with his agent and hear the info to determine if it was worth committing agency funds.

  He turned into a downtown alley and pulled up to a brick building where neon letters flashed the words The Silver Saddle Saloon. Even in the bright Tucson sunlight, the neon sign was a beacon, drawing attention to the battered old building, which was surrounded by more of the same. Dylan pulled around to a small parking lot. His government SUV stood out like a sore thumb next to the beat-up economy cars filling the slots.

  He looked around, searching each of the cars for occupants. All of the vehicles appeared empty. Still, his senses jangled. Was he walking into a trap? Gritting his teeth, he checked his Glock 17, then slipped it into the holster.

  As he stepped out of his car, a cloud passed, blocking the heat of a hot August morning. The cloud presaged a monsoon shower later. The overcast sky added to the humid heat of a day already heading into triple digits. It also added to Dylan’s tension.

  Pausing at the rear door of the bar, he looked around. When he was sure no one loitered in the surrounding area, he headed inside. He paused, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The room was wide-open, almost empty. The bartender, leaning one elbow on the bar, turned to greet him. A patron with a shaved head, wearing a ball cap, lost interest in the TV above his head and turned to his drink. The bartender called out, “What can I do for you?”

  Dylan ordered a soda and looked around. Gonzalez was seated at a small table that was tucked into a corner of the room...and he was alone.

  Dylan looked around as he sat across from the other man. “Where’s your contact?”

  “She got nervous. She won’t meet you until she’s got your word that you’ll help her get out of town.”

  “I can get her a bus ticket.”

  “She wants protection for her family...a son and her mom.”

  “That’s a lot. Is her info worth it?”

  “She says she knows Vibora’s family and has information about his sister.”

  Dylan could not quell the hope that fired to life inside him. “Is she dependable?”

  “I think so. She tells me she is...was the girl of one of Vibora’s leaders, his second in command, Lucan Caulder. He threw her over for another woman, and left her hi
gh and dry with a kid. She wants out of the gang and she wants to do some damage on her way out. Says she knows Vibora’s sister, who feels the same way. They talked at a party. The sister wants to get her mom and little sister as far from Vibora and his gang as possible. Says her brother’s crazy.”

  “We can vouch for that. Nobody takes the risks he does.” Dylan paused as the bartender walked toward them with his soda. Then he lingered, wiping the table next to them. Dylan waited until he walked away to speak again. “Any chance of a reconciliation between the two? I’m not going to invest in her only to have her run back to her ex.”

  The man shrugged. “I don’t know. But my source says she’s beat up pretty bad, with a black eye and a split lip. I do trust the man who sent her to me. He’s given good information and been dependable in the past.”

  Dylan sipped his drink and took the opportunity to look at the bartender. He was bent close to the man with the baseball cap. From this angle, Dylan got a good look at the man’s neck, where a tattooed serpent snaked its way up and disappeared beneath the cap.

  An image flashed in Dylan’s mind of the night outside Joss’s hospital room. He never got a good look at the man who had tried to kill Joss. But he had tattoos in the same spots. Was this the same man?

  Dylan rose to his feet. The bartender grasped the other man’s arm. Dylan walked toward them. Behind him, he heard Gonzalez’s chair scrape on the floor. The man with the tattoo tensed for action. Dylan did the same. When he was only a few feet away, the man spun around, knocking his bar stool to the ground and pulling a long knife from beneath his loose shirt in one movement. Before Dylan could react, the man lunged at him in the move he’d used in the hospital.

  He is the same man!

  All Dylan could do was dodge the knife, and he fell straight into Gonzalez. Moving quickly, his fellow agent kept them both from falling. Snake Man lunged again, sending Dylan and Gonzalez scrambling, almost tripping over their table. Neither man had time to un-holster his gun.

  The tattooed attacker dove for Dylan, who grabbed for the stool he’d stumbled over and swung. The rungs struck the man’s outstretched hand, knocking the knife to the floor with a noisy clatter. The chair fell as well.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Dylan saw the bartender moving, but he couldn’t take his focus off the attacker in front of him. Gonzalez headed for the bar.

  Snake Man lunged again. Dylan stepped back and then, after only a moment, moved toward the man, preparing to tackle him. But his attacker was ready. He shifted his position and swung his fist at Dylan’s head with such force, it knocked Dylan to the ground. Dazed, he lay still and vulnerable.

  “Hold it right there!” Dylan’s attack on Snake Man had given Gonzalez enough time to pull out his gun. He moved it between the bartender and the man standing above Dylan.

  But Snake Man wasn’t done yet. He snatched the chair beside him and tossed it toward Gonzalez, who moved out of the way just in time. Gonzalez fired a shot, but it was high and wide. Snake Man spun for the door. After struggling to his feet, Dylan chased him.

  Still feeling woozy, Dylan paused long enough to take out his weapon, then opened the door. Those precious minutes had cost him. The man had disappeared. Dylan ran into the parking lot, searched the street and all the nearby buildings, but saw nothing. The man had vanished.

  Back inside, Gonzalez had his gun trained on the bartender. “I’ve already sent for backup.”

  Dylan gestured to the bartender to turn around so he could search him for a weapon. “Good. Now get on the phone and contact your witness.”

  Gonzalez nodded. “Lena Jones.”

  Dylan halted. “Your contact’s name is Lena Jones?”

  Now Gonzalez paused. “You know her?”

  Excitement shot through Dylan. “I know her. Ask her if she owns a white Camry.”

  Gonzalez typed the message and waited for a response. “She says it’s registered in her name, but Caulder took it. She hasn’t seen it since they broke up.”

  Grim satisfaction filled Dylan. “Tell her to grab her son and her mother, pack a few things, and stay put. We’re on our way.”

  Even if he had to go out on a limb, he would get the resources together to get the woman in protective custody. He would break the Serpientes, no matter the cost.

  He took a breath. “But tell her I want that info now. I want the sister’s name.”

  Gonzalez punched the message into his phone. A response came back in minutes. The agent studied the picture that flashed on his screen. Slowly he turned the phone so Dylan could see it.

  Dylan recognized the woman from the files and photos his agents had gathered. Her name was Maria Martinez. She was the missing girlfriend of Jason Walker... Joss’s brother.

  * * *

  Joss washed the breakfast dishes, plopped on the couch and then dozed. She jerked awake...agitated. She couldn’t shake the sense that something needed to be done. Danger was just around the corner. That feeling hadn’t eased since she’d left the hospital. If anything, it had grown stronger. She needed to do something. Now.

  She looked around the apartment, and her gaze landed on the unpacked boxes by the couch. Surely those contained something of a more personal nature. She opened the first, labeled “high school” and found a yearbook from her senior year. She glanced through the pages and studied photos of her with friends. Not one person looked remotely familiar.

  Henderson knocked on her door. He and his partner had been patrolling the grounds, but he’d checked on her frequently.

  She unbolted the door and opened it. Her friend held a pizza box in his hands. “Chekowski...that’s the guy out front...ordered pizza to be delivered. We thought you might want some.”

  The aroma drifted toward her, and her stomach grumbled. “I guess that’s your answer.” She glanced at the microwave’s clock. “I had no idea it was lunchtime already.”

  “Well, this will do the trick. I know how much you like...” His words dropped off.

  Another reminder of what she didn’t know. Her discomfort must have shown on her face.

  “Sorry, Joss. I didn’t mean—”

  Shaking her head, she took the pizza box from him. “It’s all right. It’s good to know I like—” she lifted the lid “—pepperoni pizza.” She gestured him inside. “Come on in. I’ll see if I can find something in the fridge to wash these down.”

  She found cans of soda stacked on one side of the refrigerator. Henderson chose two colas, then moved to the sliding glass door and held up one of them. “Chekowski?”

  Joss joined him at the door. “I have a better idea. Let’s move onto the patio.”

  Henderson stopped her at the door. “I’ll stand out here, but you need to stay inside.”

  “I just...”

  She stopped abruptly. Of course. Standing on her patio would make her an easy target for a shooter. Realization hit her slow and hard. She wanted to crawl into the bedroom and slink beneath the covers. Instead she slumped onto a nearby chair and handed the box to Henderson. Her appetite was gone.

  He pushed it at her. “You need to eat, Joss. You’ve lost weight.”

  She glanced up. “Have I?”

  Henderson grinned. “Yeah, and you were already too skinny. I’ve told you that a thousand times. A border-patrol officer needs to have some meat on them.”

  His teasing tone took the sting off the letdown of being a target. Henderson tossed the soda to Chekowski, who leaned over the outdoor stairwell, looking at them. He popped open the can. The two men chatted about the heat and the changing weather. Henderson talked about his new baby, who was only six weeks old. His wife had turned into a sleep-deprived zombie.

  His descriptions made an image pop into her mind. Wistful images of a home flooded her...at least what she thought would make a good home. A sunny kitchen. Two big dogs sitting on the floor...maybe golden retr
ievers...and Dylan beside her. Green eyes that twinkled when he smiled. Wavy hair that always looked a little tousled. She’d still like to curl up on a couch with him. That thought continued to strike such a deep chord with her. Why?

  Dylan was a friend, a larger-than-life knight in shining armor who’d swept in and wrapped his arms around her in the middle of a tornado. That was a far cry from husband material. At least, not the kind Joss kept seeing in her wishful dreams, the kind who cuddled on the couch, loved animals and got up each and every morning for a normal, sometimes even boring, job just because he loved his wife. That could never be Dylan.

  “You’re awful quiet.” Henderson leaned against the doorjamb.

  A small smile flitted over her lips. “I was thinking how great your life sounds. Like I’d like to crawl into it.”

  Henderson stepped across the room and crouched in front of her to grip her knee. “Listen to me. Your life is pretty great too.”

  “Really? What if I’m guilty?”

  “Not one person on this force—no one who has worked with you—believes you’ve betrayed us. We know you had a good reason for being in that tunnel. That’s why we are all so willing to fight for you.”

  “I’m not sure Dylan believes it.”

  Henderson flinched. “Murphy has his own battles to fight. Don’t let yourself get caught up in them.”

  Too late. She was already “caught up.” How Dylan felt about her already mattered too much. But Henderson’s words reminded her of one thing. She could never allow her budding feelings for Dylan to grow. She could not drag him more deeply into the nightmare her life had become or might be in the future.

  What if what the doctor had said was true and she never regained her memory? What if everything she knew and loved before had changed? What if she was a different person? Dylan deserved better. He deserved a woman who knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.