Fatal Memories

by Tanya Stowe

  Above them a loud crash echoed through the stairwell...the wooden board clattered on the steps. The man with the beard—along with his accomplices, if he had any—was in the stairwell.

  Dylan pushed her against the wall so she was out of range of anyone from above. They never slowed their steps. A shot exploded and reverberated through the stairwell. Joss glanced up. The man with the beard leaned over the upper railing, taking aim again. Dylan stopped, aimed and fired. The man ducked out of sight.

  Dylan stayed behind. Henderson tugged her down one more flight and out the stairwell door to the lobby. Joss halted, waiting for Dylan. He burst through the door, grabbed Joss’s hand and dragged her to the exit. Then, with a quick movement, he gestured for her to wait inside. Stepping out into the parking lot, he looked around, then turned to face the apartment windows above. He gave her the “all clear” gesture and motioned her to the police car. “Get to the other side. Hide behind a tire and don’t raise your head unless I tell you.”

  Joss obeyed. All three men followed her. Using the car as a shield, they ducked and faced the entrance of the building.

  Minutes passed and nothing happened. Dylan’s voice was low and raspy. “Chekowski, did you radio for backup yet?”

  Only then did the policeman reach for the radio attached to his shoulder. A thought trickled through Joss’s mind, but she lost it as a gray Toyota truck screeched from behind the apartment complex and shot out into the street. Dylan pounded the car with his fist and ran down the street, chasing the truck.

  After a few yards, he returned. “Sooner or later I’m gonna catch that guy.”

  * * *

  The cooler temperatures of night slid over Dylan, a relief from the sweat-drenching temperatures of the day. Still, as he turned on the engine, he hit the air conditioner. Cold air blew over him and he closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment before he shifted the car into gear and drove out of the station.

  His team had accomplished a lot since this morning’s meeting with Gonzalez. Using info from Lena Jones, they’d tracked down records and photos of the gang members she had identified. Now information was starting to roll in almost faster than they could process it. The investigation was moving forward.

  Unfortunately things were at a standstill for Joss. The trip to Jason Walker’s apartment hadn’t broken through the wall that hid her past. After reinforcements had arrived, he’d taken her through the place. Nothing triggered her memories. Frustrated, she’d grasped a photograph of her brother and Maria Martinez off the counter and clutched it to her chest, almost as if she needed it to remember her brother’s face.

  The information Dylan had received was going to upset Joss even more. Jason Walker had been an engineering major. One of his professors remembered him as a bright student and was severely disappointed when Walker dropped out.

  Files on Jason Walker’s bank account had also arrived. Over the past year, he’d been paid sixty thousand dollars in three separate payments, several months apart. The day before Joss’s accident, he withdrew all the money and closed the account.

  Dylan suspected that Jason Walker agreed to use his engineering knowledge to build the tunnels for the Serpientes. Then he used Vibora’s own money to help Maria and the rest of her family escape her brother’s violent gang life.

  Even if his suspicions were correct, it didn’t answer the questions about Joss. Did she know about her brother working for the gang and try to cover for him? Is that how she ended up in the tunnel? Or did they try to kill her because she didn’t know her brother’s location and was of no use to them?

  Whatever their reasons were, Dylan’s opinion of Joss’s brother was sinking by the minute. Walker had abandoned his sister to face Vibora and his wrathful actions alone.

  An image of Joss’s pale features, smiling, telling him she would be all right when she was so obviously terrified, flashed into his mind and sent a surge of anger surging through him.

  She didn’t deserve this. None of it. And if her desperate “ticking-clock need” came from a desire to help her brother, his betrayal would sink deep and maybe even destroy her.

  Dylan’s jaw clenched. More than ever he wanted to get Vibora, Caulder and anyone else involved with this gang. His grip on the wheel tightened and he almost ran a red light.

  Slamming on the brakes, he shook his shoulders loose. He was losing his laser-like focus because of his overriding need to protect Joss. He would get the Serpientes and everyone connected to them. It was his job. He couldn’t forget that and he couldn’t let his emotions cloud his investigation. No matter how hard he tried, these new, fierce feelings for Joss kept overriding his control. He might have been attracted to her before, but nothing compared to the emotions she triggered now. Her honesty and vulnerability grabbed him by the throat and wouldn’t let go. If he wasn’t careful, those feelings would lead him down the wrong path.

  He had more important information to focus on than Joss’s disillusionment with her brother...like the hit-and-run attack on the police vehicle. There was still no trace of the white Camry. Then today the Serpientes member had appeared at his meeting with Gonzalez. How did the gang know about the meeting, let alone the exact details of where and when?

  That was one too many coincidences. Dylan didn’t believe in coincidences. Today’s fiasco at Walker’s place proved he was right not to. Those gang members were waiting to ambush them. His jangling senses and the click of a watchful neighbor’s door were the only things that had saved them.

  Somehow, someway, the gang was getting information about their movements. He was sure of it. But how? And who was leaking their plans?

  He pulled into the parking lot at Joss’s apartment. Gathering his cell phone and a pile of files from the passenger’s seat, he hurried to greet Chekowski. The officer was still on duty at the base of the stairs, and Henderson met him at the top. A major accident downtown had left the police department short of officers, so they could not provide extra men to replace Henderson and Chekowski. Fortunately both men had agreed to stay.

  “Thanks for holding down the fort until I could get here. I appreciate it.”

  Henderson nodded. “No problem. We’ll stick around for another half hour or so. Give you a chance to relax before you’re on watch.”

  Dylan shook the man’s hand. “I appreciate that. It’s been a wild day.”

  With his hands full, he knocked on the door. Joss opened it cautiously. She looked worn-out, fragile, like she had in the hospital. Fear jumped into his heart.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She sent him a wry look over her shoulder as she let him in. “As best as can be expected for someone with no memories.”

  “No headaches?”

  “Nothing since we left Jason’s apartment. That’s a good thing, I guess.”

  Dylan released a small sigh of relief. That wry look did much to ease his concern. Some of the old Joss was starting to resurface, and he couldn’t believe how happy he was to see her.

  A pizza box sat on the corner of the counter. “The guys ordered out again. We saved you some. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “I’ll warm it up.”

  She slid several pieces onto a paper plate and put it in the microwave. “So, did you get your informant settled in? Did she give you a lot of info?”

  “And then some. More than we could process in one afternoon.”

  “That good?”

  Should he tell her? Was she healthy enough to start hearing the facts? A part of Dylan wanted to say no, to tell her nothing had come of the interview. He was tired mentally and physically. Sitting at the counter, just talking, sounded great to him. The best ending to a difficult day.

  Hadn’t he had this argument with himself and decided to put these misguided feelings behind him? Stomping on them, he plopped his phone and the folders on the counter.

&n
bsp; “You tell me.” He pulled a photo out of a file. “This is Caulder. Does the picture jog any memories?”

  Joss pulled it toward her and spun it around. She studied the photo for a long while, and all the while she rubbed a spot above her temple with two fingers of one hand.

  She shook her head and pushed it to him. “No. Just some uncomfortable feelings.”

  He handed her another photo, this one of Vibora with his slicked-back man-bun and tattoos slithering over both arms. “How about this guy?”

  Her breath caught and she frowned. “No clear memories, but there’s...something about him... I don’t know. He frightens me. Does that mean something?”

  Dylan didn’t answer...didn’t want to lead her. She needed to find the memories for herself. He pulled out several more, including one of Lena Jones and Vicente Aguilar, aka Snake Man. But nothing looked familiar. She pulled Caulder’s photo across the counter one more time, then shook her head.

  “This guy doesn’t just make me uncomfortable. He scares me too. I don’t know why, but he does.”

  Dylan paused. “Think carefully, Joss. If you know anything about him...can connect him in any way to you or your presence at the tunnel, it would be all I’d need to pick him up for questioning.”

  She frowned and studied the picture.

  Frustrated, he gave up hoping she would remember on her own and prompted her. “Caulder is Lena Jones’s ex-lover. He took her car and used it to ram us yesterday. He’s Vibora’s second in command.”

  Joss looked up.

  “That’s right. Lena has known both Caulder and Mario Martinez, aka Vibora, since they were kids.” He paused, waiting to see if she drew the connection between Mario and her brother’s girlfriend, Maria. He saw nothing, not a flicker of recognition.

  Disappointed, he went on. “They grew up in the same neighborhood. That’s why she’s so bent about Caulder’s abandonment. She’s been with him since the beginning. When she found out he was cheating on her, it was the final straw. She decided to turn on him.”

  He paused. “Lucan Caulder and Mario Martinez have rap sheets as long as my arm.” He repeated Vibora’s name one more time, just for emphasis, but still she didn’t make the connection.

  He sighed. “Mario Martinez’s sister is Maria...your brother’s girlfriend.”

  Her lips parted and her gaze widened. “My brother has ties to the Serpientes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, no.” She walked to the couch and plopped down. Barely catching the edge of the cushion, she slid to the floor. With her knees bent, she closed her eyes and massaged both temples.

  Had her headaches returned, or was it a nervous habit? Should he move cautiously or blaze forward? He’d had this argument with himself before. Time was running out. He couldn’t afford to protect Joss anymore. He had to go on.

  After stepping over her slender body, which was curled up on the floor, he sat on the sofa above her. “There’s more. In college your brother studied engineering...specifically mining engineering...before dropping out to take care of you. He was close to finishing before he was forced to quit.”

  She stopped rubbing her head and looked at him. “Are you suggesting that my brother built the gang’s tunnels?”

  “We’ve compared the timeline to his relationship with Maria Martinez. They’ve been together for two years. About six months ago, Jason started to deposit substantial amounts of money into his bank account. Not long after that, the tunnels started to appear. Joss, the deposits equal more money than he could have earned at his mechanic job.”

  A deep frown appeared between her brows, the same one he’d seen when she had a headache. Had he gone too far, pushed too hard?

  Before he could ask, he heard a noise outside. “What was that?”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “It sounded like something fell on the ground.”

  He started to rise from his seat when a shout outside the door echoed through the hall. A shot exploded. Joss cried out and covered her ears. Dylan slid to his knees, beside her, and pulled his weapon from the holster.

  Joss moved as if to rise, but Dylan pushed her down. “Stay here.”

  Adrenaline rushed through his fatigued body. He flipped open the lock of his gun. Another shot rang out. This time the bullet pierced the door and zinged across the room. Joss cried out again.

  Dylan paused for a moment, then rushed to the door, threw it open and aimed, hoping to catch the shooter off guard. A man with a baseball cap was running toward him, halfway down the long hall. He fired at Dylan, who dodged behind the wall of Joss’s apartment.

  Henderson had fallen to the ground. Semiconscious, he slumped sideways into the doorway, blocking it. Dylan couldn’t shut the door, nor drag him in. They were both sitting ducks. He had to make a move.

  From behind the shelter of the wall, Dylan leaned out and fired another shot at the man, who was still running toward the door. The shot ricocheted off the wall near the man’s head. He spun and fled the way he’d come.

  Dylan stepped over Henderson and raced after him. The man with the baseball cap paused, turned and fired. Dylan crouched and lunged sideways, banging into one of the doors in the hall. Someone shouted from behind the door.

  “Hey! What’s going on out there?”

  “Stay inside and call the police!”

  The running man was almost to the end of the hall by the time Dylan recovered. As the man passed one of the hall lights on the wall, Dylan saw the distinctive snake tattoo on the back of his neck.

  Anger surged through him. This time he was going to get Snake Man.

  He powered on the speed. Snake Man turned the corner and dashed down the stairs. Glass shattered. Dylan paused at the shadowy corner and peeked over. Snake Man had broken all of the lights. The stairwell was completely dark. His assailant could be waiting and taking aim now. Jerking behind the protection of the corner, he checked his weapon.

  Dylan glanced around. Joss was leaning over Henderson in the open doorway. Chekowski was nowhere to be seen. Was he injured too? Snake Man could even now be circling around the building and heading up those unguarded stairs!

  He pushed away from the wall and ran toward Joss. Just then, he heard the sound of an engine revving. The deep rumble of the motor reverberated through the empty hall, pounding against Dylan’s ears. His heart pounded with it.

  * * *

  Joss pressed a kitchen towel to Henderson’s shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. She’d been dreading a terrible incident, and now one had happened. The gang was mowing down innocent people. Officers...good people were being hurt, and someway, somehow, she felt as if she could have prevented this.

  Henderson groaned as she pressed his wound, but she barely heard it. There was a louder sound, one that drowned out all else. A powerful engine revved. She looked up. The vertical blinds on the sliding glass door were closed, but a bright light flashed through the slight crevices...as if someone had shined a spotlight on the doors. The engine revved louder...and closer...like it was below her window.

  Rapid gunfire exploded through the air. Bullets pierced the sliding glass doors, shattering them and ripping across the entire apartment.

  Joss screamed and flung herself over Henderson’s body. Bullets tore across the room, destroying everything in their path. They zinged over her head...straight to the outside door and Dylan’s running figure.

  She screamed his name before another round of bullets shredded the apartment, chipping pieces of the doorjamb and sending splinters everywhere. Joss ducked again, shielding Henderson’s head and face.

  When the next round of rapid gunfire paused, she lifted enough to see that Dylan was safe...crouched waiting for the hail of bullets to ease.

  The gunfire started again, but this time it was aimed at the bedroom. Bullets tore into the window and destroyed that room as well
. The engine revved again. Lights flashed and the vehicle sped off.

  Most of the vertical blinds had been ripped in two or torn away, but a few remained, still swinging from the violent spray of bullets. Glass had been blown all the way across the room and littered the ground around her. She stared at it in stunned silence.

  “Joss! Are you all right? Joss!”

  Once again Dylan’s voice anchored her, brought her to her senses. She rose to her feet and dashed into his arms. He pulled her to his chest. Nothing had ever felt so good. She tucked her face into his neck and sobbed her relief.

  “I was afraid you’d been hurt,” he murmured.

  She shook her head. “I was on the floor. But you could have been hit. Those bullets went right through the door.”

  He took a slow breath. “God was watching out for both of us.”

  His words penetrated the haze of fear in her mind. Was the Lord truly watching out for her? Was it possible He hadn’t abandoned her?

  Sirens stopped outside the apartment complex, and blue lights flashed along the walls. Dylan tried to push her away, but she would not release him. Not yet. She should let him go do his job, but her world was still reeling and she needed him. Besides, he didn’t seem all that determined to release her. Pulling her along, he scooted to the edge of the stairwell and shouted down to the approaching officers. Standing up, he saw Chekowski’s unconscious body lying at the foot of the stairs.

  “We’re up here. Henderson’s been shot and your man is down. We need an ambulance.”

  Multiple officers ran toward them, their guns drawn. One stopped to examine Chekowski, who appeared unconscious but otherwise unharmed. Other officers ran up the stairs. One man paused where Dylan and Joss stood while two more carefully searched her shattered home.

  She clung to Dylan as he related the events to the lead officer. The others signaled that the apartment was clear, and the emergency technicians ran up the stairs with a gurney. The whole time Joss held on to Dylan. Only when they loaded Henderson onto a stretcher and headed to the stairs was she able to release Dylan.