Fatal Memories

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Fatal Memories Page 7

by Tanya Stowe


  “I have to get out there. Chekowski’s been in the heat too long. He needs a break.” Henderson rose to his feet.

  “I have to get to work too,” she murmured.

  Her friend smiled at her. “What’s your work? Still meeting you?”

  She gave him a wry twist of her lips. “Yep.”

  “Don’t work too hard. You look like you could use some rest.”

  There would be no rest for her. Not until she figured out what was behind the ticking clock driving her crazy.

  Henderson closed the door. She locked it behind him and then flopped onto the couch. The school yearbook lay open where she had left it. She flipped the page, and right in the middle was a picture of her in a long pink formal dress, with a crown on her head. She had her arm linked through that of a tall, good-looking, dark-haired man. The caption read “Prom Queen Jocelyn Walker Accompanied by Her Brother, Jason Walker.”

  She had a brother!

  She flipped quickly through the rest of the pages, searching for another picture, but found nothing. Many people had signed the book but they were all generic statements like “best wishes.” Nothing personal that said anything about the real Joss Walker. Apparently she hadn’t had many attachments in school. That explained why her brother had accompanied her to the prom and not another young man.

  Sounded like her high school life was about the same as her current life. Lots of work. Well-liked with many acquaintances—enough to elect her prom queen—but not many close friends.

  She dug through the rest of the box and found a dried corsage, a class pin and a ring. Some school papers, awards for good grades. Things that meant nothing to her...brought no memories or flashes of recognition. She slid the top box to the floor and pulled open the one beneath. Inside she found a metal box full of important documents.

  Her birth certificate. She was twenty-seven years old. Good to know. She shook her head at the craziness of not knowing her own birth date. Then she stumbled across a death certificate. Clipped to it was a newspaper article about how John Walker, owner and operator of Walker’s Corner Store, had been shot and killed in an attempted robbery at his place of business.

  Her father had been murdered. She waited for the emotions that should have come with that knowledge. Sorrow. Anger. Loss. But the only emotion the knowledge generated was guilt for not feeling more. The words on the paper meant nothing. Except that they might explain her devotion to law enforcement.

  Filed behind it was another death certificate, this one for Anna Walker, and a newspaper obituary. She had died of a rare kidney ailment when Joss was sixteen. The article said Anna was survived by her son and daughter.

  Nothing. No memories. No emotions.

  Pictures. She needed pictures. Something! Someone!

  Where are you, Jason Walker? Why did you leave me all alone? Are you in danger? Do you need my help?

  The pounding in her head returned so strongly, she could hardly bear it. As she closed the small metal container, a document with gold scrollwork caught her eye. Her baptismal certificate. She’d been baptized not long after her mother had died. Obviously she’d found comfort in her faith during that period of mourning. Why hadn’t she found comfort now? Why couldn’t she remember anything of her faith, except for the words of a few old hymns?

  The pounding drowned out the rest of her thoughts, and she sagged to the floor with the certificate clutched in her hand. She buried her face in her arms as hot tears squeezed beneath her lids.

  Where are You, God? Why have You abandoned me...like everyone else in my family?

  * * *

  Dylan hated being away from Joss a minute longer but he needed to eat. The way this day was going, if he didn’t do it now, it might not happen.

  He headed to a drive-through and ordered. Armed with a bag full of cheeseburgers and fries, he nodded to the uniformed officer at the base of the stairs to Joss’s apartment, then took the steps two at a time. Henderson stood outside her door.

  “How is she?”

  “Not a peep out of her. I think she’s resting. We ordered some pizza and she’s been quiet ever since.”

  Dylan smiled and held up the bag. “Good to know. I picked up a couple of extra burgers, but now I can eat them myself.” He knocked on the door. The bolt slammed back and the door jerked open. Joss stood before him, with tear streaks on her cheeks, and her ponytail awry.

  “I have a brother. Why hasn’t he been to see me?”

  Dylan’s smile faded. He glanced toward Henderson, who shrugged with a droll look. Dylan stepped inside and closed the door. He held up the bag. “I brought food. Can we eat first?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I am and I’ve had a long day. Give me a second and I’ll try to explain.”

  “What is there to explain? What’s wrong with my brother?”

  Dylan moved past her and set the bag on the breakfast bar. After unrolling the top, he began to set out the food.

  “Was he injured too? Is he dead? Is that why you are stalling? It has to be bad. Otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to keep it a secret.”

  He eased onto the stool and shook his head. “It’s not a secret, Joss. It’s just...we don’t know where Jason is. He’s missing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he’s missing. He hasn’t shown up for work. He’s not in his apartment or answering his cell. Even his girlfriend and her family have disappeared. We’ve been trying to track them down, but so far...” He shrugged.

  Joss eased onto the stool beside him. “You aren’t keeping the truth from me, are you? Was he in that tunnel with me? I can handle it if he was.” She looked at her hands, and Dylan’s gaze followed hers. Her fingers were clenched so tightly, the knuckles were white. “At least one question will be answered.”

  Her quietly spoken words pierced Dylan like a knife. Her fear and confusion was tearing at him.

  “He wasn’t in the cave-in and we don’t have answers, Joss. We don’t know what’s going on.”

  “The girlfriend’s whole family is missing?”

  “Yes. Maria, her mother and her little sister.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand. How could they be missing and no one knows anything about them?”

  “We don’t have those answers, but we have had our first breakthrough with an informer named Lena Jones. And thanks to your good memory of the license plate, we traced the car that hit us to her.”

  “The driver of the car yesterday was a woman?”

  Dylan shook his head, his mouth full of food. “No. It was a man. She says her ex-boyfriend had been making payments on it, so when they split, he took it and she hasn’t seen it since.”

  He paused. “The boyfriend’s name is Caulder. Ring any bells?”

  She frowned. “No. Not a one.”

  Dylan was hesitant to feed her all of the information at one time. He didn’t want to lead her. He wanted her to remember on her own. He felt a twinge of guilt for his omissions. But too much too soon might bring back the headaches, and she seemed on the verge of a breakthrough...at least that’s what he hoped.

  She placed a hand on his arm. “I have this feeling that something horrible is about to happen. I can’t shake it and now you tell me Jason is missing. What if he’s been in an accident and I was going to him? What if...”

  Dylan shook his head, anxious to ease her fears. “It looks like your brother packed for some kind of trip. Toiletries are missing—things like that.”

  Joss was silent. He could almost see the wheels turning behind her beautiful gray-toned gaze.

  “If he’s taking a trip, we can trace it through his bank account, right? Plane or train tickets. Gas or money withdrawals throughout the country.”

  Dylan dropped his hamburger, a little surprised that she was putting two and two together so quickly. She wa
s starting to sound like the old Joss. He was glad. He’d missed her quick mind and sharp observations.

  “We’ve put in the request to access his accounts, but the warrant hasn’t been approved yet.”

  She sagged and then grasped his arm again. “All the more reason why I have to go to my brother’s apartment. I have to remember. All I need is to walk through. Surely he has pictures. Mementos. More than this.” She gestured to her utilitarian apartment.

  Dylan picked up his hamburger and shook his head. “I told you. We searched the place. If there was something there, we would have found it.”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t mean a clue. I mean something that will trigger my memory.” She gestured around the room. “Look at this place. There’s nothing here. I don’t really live here. My brother has a real life. He’s got a girlfriend.”

  Dylan chuckled. “If that qualifies a person for a real life, then I’ve failed too.”

  She didn’t laugh or smile. Her pointed stare hit him right between the eyes and told him exactly what she thought. He ducked his head, not willing to engage in a discussion about his own seemingly joyless, utilitarian life.

  She turned away and Dylan was able to take another bite. But it looked like it would be his last, because Joss shook her head.

  “That thought gives me no comfort. Something is terribly wrong. Something is about to happen and my memory is the key. I have to do something. I need to go.”

  She turned to him. “Please, Dylan. Take me to my brother’s apartment.”

  He shook his head and swallowed rapidly.

  “I can’t, Joss. I have to get to my office and process paperwork. We have to get Lena Jones, her son and her mother to another location. Day after tomorrow we’re transferring her to another city, hopefully one that’s out of state.”

  “Please, Dylan. All I need is a quick walk-through. After that, Henderson and Chekowski can bring me home. You can go straight to your office. For that matter, things have been quiet here. Henderson and Chekowski can take me.”

  Those words jolted an immediate reaction. “No way. If you go, I’m going with you.”

  Hope flared in her eyes. “Does that mean you’ll take me?”

  Dylan hesitated. If a visit to the apartment triggered Joss’s memory, it would be fantastic. Any information she gave them, coupled with Lena Jones’s revelations, could break this case wide-open. And Joss was right, Jason Walker and Maria Martinez could be in danger.

  He resolutely refused to admit that his main reason for considering the visit would be to ease Joss. She needed some relief, some help, and if it was in his power, he wanted to give it to her. He was a bit concerned about how badly he wanted that. But that was another matter for another time.

  Fifteen minutes across town. Fifteen in Walker’s apartment and the same for the return. Gonzalez had already picked up Jones and was taking her to a secure hotel. Dylan could spare the time. If he couldn’t get the necessary paperwork done in time for the transfer, he’d put Jones’s tickets and hotel on his own credit card.

  He set his food down, opened the door, stepped outside and closed it behind him. He called the two guards together and told them what Joss had proposed.

  Henderson shook his head. “No way. It’s too dangerous.”

  The uniformed policeman Joss called Chekowski was silent for a long while. Then his features hardened. “Let’s go. She might find something they missed.”

  Henderson shook his head. “You’re crazy too.”

  Chekowski shrugged. “We have the advantage of surprise. Do you really think that gang is watching this place 24/7? We’ll be in and out before those creeps know she’s left the apartment.”

  The men turned to Dylan, waiting for his decision.

  It was a risk. He was going out on a limb. But it would be worth it if even one object in the apartment helped Joss regain her memory. Watching her struggle in a world she didn’t recognize bothered him more than he cared to admit to his fellow officers...maybe even to himself.

  “Let’s do it.”

  FIVE

  Joss stopped at the foot of the stairs outside her apartment. The heavy heat of the Tucson summer hit her full force. It was like a blast from a furnace, and she sucked in her breath. Weakness slipped over her and she had to pause.

  Chekowski’s heavy tread echoed behind her, and his bulky shadow fell on the ground in front of her. “Are we doing this or not?” His impatience spurred her into action.

  “Which way?”

  He pointed to a police car parked in the closest parking slot. “You’re riding in my car. Murphy says it’s the most fortified.”

  Dylan and Henderson stood in the parking lot, conversing. They had searched the parking lot and the whole area before they allowed her to leave her apartment. As they crossed the grass, Chekowski pulled out his cell and typed out a message with his thumbs. “We won’t need backup, but I’m letting my supervisor know what’s going on.” He punched the send button and then slid his cell phone into his pocket.

  Chekowski opened the passenger door of the front for her, but Dylan jogged toward her and motioned to the back. “Joss, get in the back with Henderson. I’ll sit in the front.”

  Nodding, she opened the door and slid in. The car was like an oven and it smelled. Not like a car with leather and upholstery...but like sweat and fear.

  Chekowski started the engine and cranked on the air conditioner, but very little reached her. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her.

  Not now! Not after I fought so hard to get here.

  Dylan gave Chekowski the address and he plugged it into the GPS on the console. The screen on the console read Fifteen Minutes Until Arrival. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

  She had begun to relax when they bumped into a parking lot. A scraggly saguaro with ragged, bug-eaten arms posed in front of a sign that said Saguaro Sunset Apartments. Both looked in danger of toppling over. In one corner of the lot, a car with four missing tires rested on blocks of wood.

  Dylan opened the door and she stepped out. One side of the older three-story brick apartment building was covered in graffiti. A gang symbol caught Dylan’s attention and he walked toward it. A striped snake with a lashing tongue curved around a large block letter S.

  “You know this symbol?”

  Dylan did. “It means this is Serpientes territory.”

  “And my brother lives right in the middle of their claim?”

  Dylan nodded.

  A monsoon cloud passed over, bringing with it the dark hint of a storm. The breeze came up suddenly in the afternoon heat. Joss shivered. “How long has he lived here?”

  “Almost twelve years. You moved here together after your mother passed. He never moved away.”

  Twelve years. Her brother had been negotiating these dangerous waters for all of those years? Could he really have stayed free from entanglement in all of that time? Or had he succumbed? Fallen victim to the gang’s promises of protection, wealth or safety? She didn’t know. Didn’t remember anything about her brother. She could only hope she’d find answers in his apartment.

  They entered the small lobby. Mailboxes lined one wall. In front of them was an elevator with a handwritten sign taped to the metal door. The sign read Out of Order.

  Dylan snapped the cover on his holster loose. “I don’t like this.”

  Chekowski pulled his weapon too. “We’ve come this far. Might as well go the rest of the way.”

  Henderson nodded and Dylan pointed to one end of the narrow lobby. “Stairwells bracket both ends of the building. Walker’s apartment is closer to the right, so we’ll go that way.”

  They started up. The stairwell smelled like cooked cabbage. What was it with her sense of smell today? It seemed to overwhelm every other sense and added to her discomfort.

  Their footsteps echoed in the empty stairwe
ll. They walked quietly, but the sound pounded into Joss’s head. By the time they reached the third floor, she was breathing heavily and the pounding had turned into a full-fledged headache.

  Chekowski took the lead. He opened the door and peered down the empty hallway. “Let’s go.”

  Dylan followed, with Joss close behind him. Henderson trailed. Chekowski’s body blocked Joss’s view of the hall ahead, but the apartment doors they passed showed the age and well-worn look of the rest of the complex.

  Why did Jason live in this run-down place? Couldn’t he afford anything better? She could understand if he was a young man who was struggling to raise a younger sister, but where did his money go now that she had her own job and means of support?”

  So far this trip had brought more concerns than answers.

  Suddenly a door just ahead and to the right opened a crack. Joss glimpsed a young teen boy before an older man’s face appeared. The door slammed shut and the dead bolt slid into place. Dylan came to an abrupt halt. Then he spun, grabbed Joss’s shoulder and pushed her back the way they’d come.

  “The neighbors are worried. Something’s not right. Turn around.” His harsh whisper broke the silence of the empty hall. Startled, Joss obeyed. Henderson ran ahead of her. Only when they reached the door of the stairwell did she pause long enough to look back.

  The door to her brother’s apartment suddenly burst open. A man with a long black beard appeared in the doorway. He ran toward them as Dylan shoved her into the stairwell and slammed the door behind them. A two-by-four, long enough to prop the door open, leaned against the wall. Dylan grabbed it and jammed it against the knob.

  “Go! Get to the car.”

  Something hit the door with a thud, but the board held. Henderson grabbed her arm and pulled her down the stairs. They rounded the corner of the second-floor landing. Two little girls, one with a ball in her hand, stepped into the stairwell.

  “Get back! Go home and hide!” Henderson shouted as he dragged Joss down the next flight. The girls screamed and ran, dropping the ball so it bounced down the stairs. Joss almost tripped over it, but Dylan came from somewhere behind her, scooped her up by the waist and dragged her until she got her footing again.

 

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