Dangerous Christmas Memories

by Sarah Hamaker

  “Shall we start over?”

  She nodded and closed her eyes again, sending a short prayer that this time she would successfully recall more of those missing hours.

  “Breathe in and out to my count of ten,” Dr. Devins instructed.

  Priscilla concentrated on breathing in and out, listening to the cadence of Dr. Devins’s voice as it rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. The room morphed into a noisy casino with the flashing lights from the slot machines bouncing off the mirrors that adorned the ceiling and walls. Priscilla wove her way expertly through the crowds, neatly avoiding customers with grabby hands.

  She approached a high-top table meant for four people, but which instead seated seven young men. Their intoxicated behavior and raucous banter about one member getting ready to tie the knot informed her that this was a bachelor party. At least bachelor parties usually tipped well. With a plastered-on smile, she asked brightly, “What can I get you gentlemen?”

  A brown-haired man in the party made a lewd comment that triggered guffaws from all the other members, except for one—a tall blond with piercing blue eyes, who stood a little back from the group. There was something familiar about him. He shot her an apologetic smile as she took the rest of their drink orders. When she got to the blond man, instead of ordering vodka shooters like his friends, he asked for club soda with a twist of lime and an order of nachos and chicken wings.

  As if someone had hit the fast-forward button on a DVD, the scene shifted to later that same evening. In the darkened hallway leading to the employee break room, Priscilla grappled with the brown-haired man from the bachelor party.

  The man pressed her against the wall and planted sloppy kisses on her face and neck while his hands groped her body. Her back pressed hard against the wall, giving her no room to maneuver away or counter his attack. She bucked her body against his to throw him off balance, but he merely grunted, then yanked her hair to position her head where he wanted it and continued his assault.

  The man shifted and Priscilla jammed her high heel into the instep of his foot. He yelped and sprang back, anger replacing his desire.

  She darted to the side, but his hand whipped out and grabbed her upper arm in a viselike grip. Priscilla cried out in pain, but suddenly, the pressure on her arm was gone. She turned to see the blond man absorb a blow to the face from her attacker before punching the other man, knocking her attacker to the floor. Her attacker’s jaw sported an angry mark on his white skin while her rescuer had corresponding redness on his cheek.

  The man on the floor massaged his jaw while glaring up at the blond man. Her attacker then focused on Priscilla. “I’ll get you for this. Just wait and see.” He stood and shouldered past, bumping her into the wall, as he stalked off.

  “Are you okay?” Her rescuer handed her a handkerchief.

  “Thanks for coming to my rescue.” As she vigorously attempted to erase all marks the man had left on her face with his sloppy kisses, she tried to lighten the moment with a question. “Who carries handkerchiefs anymore?”

  “I do. You never know when you’ll need to offer one.” He looked more closely at her flushed face. “Are you sure you’re all right? Do you want to see a doctor?”

  “No, I don’t need a doctor.” She blotted underneath her eyes to clean up any smudged mascara. Her hand trembled but she concentrated on erasing any signs of the attack. Gerald, the pit boss, would have a fit if she went on the floor looking anything less than a million bucks.

  “Here, you missed some.” Luc gently took the handkerchief from her hand and wiped something off her right cheek. He leaned closer as if to inspect the area, his body in front of hers.

  She sucked in a breath to calm her nerves. “You look very familiar. Do we know each other?”

  “My name’s Luc.”

  Then it clicked. “Luc Langsdale?”

  He nodded. “Priscilla Makin, right?”

  It was her turn to nod. “I can’t believe it’s really you. How long has it been since that summer on the reservation?”

  “I think about seven or eight years.”

  “What’s going on, Priscilla!”

  Priscilla jumped at the sound of Gerald’s booming voice.

  The smaller, weasel-looking man stood at the end of the hallway, his ever-present clipboard tucked under one armpit. “I’ve just received very disturbing news from a Mr. Todd Smith, who claims you lured him back here and pretended you were interested in some hanky-panky.”

  Priscilla couldn’t believe it. How dare that scumbag pin this on her. “What? I didn’t lure anyone anywhere. That man hurt me.”

  Gerald raised an eyebrow. She cringed. Her boss always took the side of the customer, especially ones who threw around money. Not long after she started working at the Last Chance, she had stopped reporting customers who made her uncomfortable with their inappropriate comments after Gerald refused to listen.

  “That’s the last time you insult a customer.” Gerald pointed his finger at her. “You’re fired.”

  “Priscilla, it’s time to wake up.” Dr. Devins spoke softly, jerking her out of the memories.

  Breathing hard, Priscilla opened her eyes, her heart pounding as the memories continued to pour through her mind.

  “It’s okay. Take a few deep breaths.”

  She obeyed, her racing pulse slowing down.

  “What do you remember?” Dr. Devins asked in a calm voice.

  Priscilla told him, the words spilling over themselves as she raced to get everything out in case the memories faded back into the recesses of her mind. “Gerald threw me out of the casino and wouldn’t even let me collect my things.”

  “About what time would you say that happened?”

  “Time?” Priscilla gripped her fingers tightly together. “Maybe near midnight? I think it happened close to the end of my shift.” She loosened her hands. “The casinos don’t have clocks and we’re not allowed to wear watches or carry cell phones while on the floor. The pit boss would tell us to take breaks and go off the clock. Management wanted its staff to honestly say we don’t know the time if a guest asked. Maybe Luc would know for sure.”

  “We’ll ask him.” Dr. Devins jotted something down on the yellow notepad on his lap. “When did you run into Luc again that evening?”

  “I don’t know.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “That’s it. My mind’s back to being a blank page up until the shooting.”

  “Don’t worry—that’s a great start. It’s likely that once you’ve started remembering, other scenes from that evening will become clearer to you.”

  “You mean like this might have broken a logjam? That soon I’ll be able to remember everything from that night?”

  “It’s highly likely the other memories will shake loose on their own now that you’ve started remembering.”

  “You don’t know how much I’ve longed to remember more than the few bits and pieces I’ve already shared with the marshals.” She lay back against the pillows as a wave of tiredness crashed over her.

  He patted her hand. “I understand. Just remember not to push things.”

  “I won’t.” She stifled a yawn.

  “We’ll try another session after lunch.” Dr. Devins stood. “You should rest now.” He turned out the lamp and left the room, closing the door with a soft click.

  Priscilla tugged the top quilt over her body and snuggled down as her eyelids drooped shut. At least she’d remembered meeting Luc and their shared past on the mission trip as teenagers. Maybe later today she’d actually recall marrying him.

  * * *

  Luc sliced onions, then dumped them into the sizzling skillet along with the heated olive oil. Cooking relaxed him, and he needed something to do while Priscilla rested after her hypnosis session. Dr. Devins had come out forty minutes ago with news that the session had gone well, but he wouldn’t share any det
ails.

  “Smells good.” Aldrich sniffed appreciatively as he entered the kitchen. “What’s cooking?”

  “Philly cheesesteaks.” Luc added red and green pepper slices to the onions, then stirred the veggies in the pan.

  “Impressive.” Aldrich uncapped a water bottle. “I usually just grab a PB&J for lunch.”

  Luc opened a package of sub rolls. “Why go with what’s easy when you can whip up something a little more filling and tasty?”

  “Said like a man who takes food much more seriously than I do.”

  Luc separated the tops from the bottoms of the sub rolls and lined them up on a cookie sheet.

  Aldrich leaned against the counter. His poise appeared relaxed to any observer but Luc sensed a coiled readiness in the other man. The recent photo of Priscilla had put everyone on edge.

  “How come you married Priscilla?”

  To buy himself time while considering how to answer, Luc pushed the onions and peppers around in the pan, then lowered the heat. He slid the rolls into the wall oven.

  Aldrich took another swig from his water bottle. “Avoiding the question?”

  “Maybe.” Luc flipped the flank steak, which was browning nicely under the heat of the broiler.

  “Hey, man, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay.” Aldrich watched him separate provolone cheese slices. “It’s too bad that she doesn’t remember you at all.”

  “You’re telling me. She had a good session with Dr. Devins, but even though he didn’t tell me what she said, I’m hoping she’ll recall our meeting soon.”

  A doorbell chime sounded and Aldrich pulled his phone out of his pocket. “A text I need to address. Call me when lunch is ready—and thanks. It will sure beat PB&J.”

  “Will do.” Luc sliced the meat. Please, Lord, let Priscilla have recalled something helpful. And help the marshals catch whoever is trying to harm her.

  Pulling the rolls from the oven, he assembled the sandwiches, then wrapped them in foil before returning them to the oven to warm and melt the cheese under a low temperature.

  As he cleaned up the kitchen, his mind returned to washing dishes last night with Priscilla before he’d spoiled it with his idiotic comment about being married. At least things had calmed down since they’d arrived. Maybe they’d catch Culvert soon, and he and Priscilla could finally have a real conversation about what had happened between them in Vegas.

  He rinsed the last pan and put it in the dish drainer. A movement outside the window over the kitchen sink caught his eye. Someone was out there, but then again, someone was supposed to be out there—a pair of marshals patrolling the perimeter.

  There it was again, a flash of light like a reflection off a mirror. What if it wasn’t the marshals? What if it was—

  The glass shattered and Luc dropped to the floor.

  THIRTEEN

  Someone shook Priscilla’s shoulder and she blinked, trying to banish the vestiges of sleep from her mind.

  “We have to leave. Now!” The urgency in Laura’s voice penetrated the fog of sleep, jolting Priscilla fully awake.

  “What’s happened?” Priscilla scrambled to find her shoes. The marshal stood to the side of the room’s single window and peered through a slit in the blinds with her gun drawn. “Will you please tell me what’s going on?”

  “Someone took a shot at Luc through the kitchen window.” Laura faced the window as she spoke. “He’s okay, but we’re leaving.”

  Priscilla’s fingers shook as she tied her laces. “Ready.”

  “Good.” Laura moved away from the window and spoke into her earpiece. “I’m leaving with the witness.”

  Priscilla hugged herself to stop the trembling that had taken over. When would this nightmare end? They should have left last night, but Mac assured her the photo of her in scrubs was snapped leaving the clinic, not entering this safe house.

  “Let’s go.” Laura motioned for Priscilla to come up behind her as the marshal eased open the door.

  Myers and Aldrich stood directly outside the room with their guns drawn. Myers nodded toward Aldrich. “Priscilla, you’ll go with Aldrich. Devins will cover the rear and I’ll be the front man.”

  Priscilla bit back asking about Luc. The marshals didn’t need to be distracted from doing their job.

  Aldrich drew Priscilla closer as Myers moved down the hallway toward the other back bedroom.

  “Witness headed to rendezvous one.” Myers spoke into his earpiece.

  Aldrich kept his hand on Priscilla’s shoulder, his body shielding hers. Adrenaline coursed through her entire being. Her blood pounded in her ears.

  Myers opened the bedroom’s door and entered. “Clear.”

  Aldrich and Priscilla followed, Laura taking up residence at the doorway, her gun trained down the hallway. Myers pressed his hand to his ear, then nodded. “Copy that.” He turned to Aldrich. “Luc and Dr. Devins are in position, ready for the diversion.”

  Diversion? That didn’t sound like a good idea, not when somebody was trying to kill her. She opened her mouth to ask, but Myers spoke first from his position underneath an open window. “On my count, I’ll go through first and you’ll follow.”

  Myers counted softly. “One, two, three.”

  An explosion shook the house, the sound much louder and harsher than last night’s fireworks. Priscilla crouched, but Aldrich urged her up, tugging her toward the open window. Myers had his torso through. Then he disappeared from view.

  “Your turn.” Aldrich lifted her through the opening to Myers, who grabbed her around the waist. Once free of the window, Priscilla dropped to the ground behind the cover of several tall boxwoods. She crawled to the right as Aldrich came through, followed quickly by Laura. They remained crouched behind the shrubbery.

  Two SUVs facing the street were parked side by side in the gravel driveway. “Package is ready.” Myers half rose from his crouch, gun raised. “Let’s move.”

  Aldrich resumed his position as bodyguard and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Myers sprinted toward the nearest SUV, rounding the front of the vehicle to access the driver’s door. He signaled them to follow.

  Aldrich applied pressure on Priscilla’s shoulder. “On the count of three, we’ll make a run for the first vehicle. Get in through the back door and move to the far side of the passenger seat.”

  She nodded, then slightly straightened as he counted. When he reached three, she sprang to her feet, Aldrich beside her, and they ran pell-mell to the SUV. Aldrich wrenched open the back door and she leaped in, sliding across the bench seat. Aldrich slammed the door behind him as the passenger-side door opened to admit Laura.

  Myers threw the car in gear and hit the accelerator just as Laura shut the door. The second SUV peeled out after them.

  Aldrich holstered his firearm, then punched in a number on his cell. “Mac? It’s Aldrich. You’re on speakerphone.”

  “Didn’t Myers tell you I’m about twenty minutes away? What? You couldn’t wait?” Mac’s voice held an amused tenor.

  “Someone took a shot at Luc through the kitchen window. Luckily, the shooter missed his target. We’re all in the SUVs heading west.” Aldrich paused. “All but Peters. He was found shot in the forehead at close range in the woods behind the house.”

  Mac uttered a soft curse.

  “Thompson found his body about thirty seconds before the shot was fired into the house.” Aldrich shifted in his seat. “The shooter took Peters’s weapon and cell phone.”

  Priscilla blinked back tears. She hadn’t met Peters, only heard his name as one of the marshals on patrol outside. Now he was dead because of her.

  “Walk me through it all.” Mac’s voice had a hard edge to it.

  Priscilla leaned her head back as Aldrich, with input from Laura and Myers, recounted what had ha
ppened. Priscilla’s body relaxed when she heard Luc was in the second SUV with Marshal Thompson and Dr. Devins. She turned her head to stare blindly out the window at trees, now nearly barren of leaves.

  Aldrich touched her arm. “You okay?”

  “I guess so.” She gave him a tired smile. “How did he find me?”

  The marshal frowned. “We took evasive actions to avoid being followed. We don’t have any answers yet. The FBI will collect any evidence the intruder left behind at the safe house.”

  Priscilla drew in a ragged breath. “Did Peters have a family?”

  Aldrich nodded. “A wife, who’s expecting their first baby in a few months.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and she made no attempt to brush it off. “I’m so sorry. This is all because of me.”

  “Listen to me. Peters knew what he signed up for. We all did. It’s a dangerous job. We’re fully aware that we might not make it home one day.” He looked her straight in the eye. “This is not your fault. It’s Culvert who’s to blame, not you.”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, thoughts churning inside her brain like towels tumbling in a dryer. “I don’t get the timing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Culvert had more than five years to track down and eliminate me, but I’ve had a rather quiet existence in WITSEC up until three days ago.”

  Aldrich rubbed his jaw. “Why now?”

  * * *

  Luc ripped open a packet of ketchup and squeezed it onto the paper wrapper. The marshals had reconvened at a Sleepy Time Residence Inn, commandeering two rooms with connecting doors. Each unit had two bedrooms and a kitchenette. Based on the length of time driving and their westerly direction, Luc guessed they were close to the West Virginia–Kentucky border. Right after their arrival, Devins and Aldrich had disappeared, returning to the inn with sacks from a fast-food burger chain.