“No.” She held her hand up. “Who are you to me?”
He crossed the kitchen, set the cup down in front of her and turned to his cohort. “Can you give us ten minutes?” Ben handed him the manila folder. The one Eli claimed marked the end of her life.
Eli unbuttoned his suit jacket, and she noted dark patches on the broad expanse of his tailored shirt. Water from her hair, from when he had carried her up the stairs. Something about being held in this man’s arms had felt so strangely familiar. Comforting. Julia pushed the thought aside and watched as he lowered himself into the chair across from her. She gripped the cup between her hands to cut the fear-laden chill that set in her bones.
“I used to work for the Aurora Police Department. I was the lead detective on your case. I’ve only been with the marshals’ office for about a year and a half.”
How much did she want to know about their past? Had there been anything besides a professional relationship between them? Pins and needles rushed over her body. She felt light-headed. Fear rose within her. The daily battle to keep it at bay faltered.
Julia placed her palm on the envelope and slid it on the table between them. “Tell me about this. Tell me why you’re here.”
Eli pinched the flimsy metal clasp together, pushed the flap open and pulled out the documents. He fanned the pages out, turning them around so she could see them. “This is what we call a hit package. It’s typically put together by someone who wants to hire a hit man for murder. It has all the pertinent information of your comings and goings. Photos of your house. Your vehicle and its license plate. Your gym. Place of employment...”
His insistent litany became distant in her ears as she gathered up the pages. The details of her life laid out like a scrapbook for a killer. Her schedule. Where she went grocery-shopping. Where she volunteered. A picture of her grandfather and his assisted living center. Had her papa been put into danger because of her? Her throat tightened—her turtleneck like a gloved hand around her throat. As much as she loathed wearing it, the collar hid what she could not confront.
“Who is this person?” Her voice broke from clenched vocal cords.
Eli sighed. “At this point, there doesn’t seem to be an obvious candidate. Dr. Heller, who murdered several people and nearly killed you, is on death row. This is a copy. The original is in evidence. We’re examining it to see if it will give us clues as to who this person might be.”
“Where did it come from?”
“It was given anonymously to a local parole officer who then delivered it to the FBI. Can you look at these pictures of the other victims? We never found a strong tie between them and you other than a health-care background. Do you know any of these women?”
Julia glanced at the photos. Some did seem vaguely familiar, but none that she knew by name. She straightened the pages and handed them back to Eli. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I suffered a brain injury as a result of the hanging. I have post-traumatic amnesia. Any memories from the time of my attack until I went into rehab are gone. The next months are fuzzy and...” She brushed the tears from her eyes. Why did something she couldn’t remember traumatize her so deeply?
Eli covered her hand with his. Familiar again, unnerving yet protective at the same time. How could one touch be all those things?
She cleared her throat and continued. “I was sick for a long time. I’ve just gotten things back to normal. If there is such a thing after what I lived through.”
“Julia, what’s important right now is to get you somewhere safe. When we do that, hopefully we’ll have time to figure this out.”
Hopefully? His words didn’t instill confidence. The threat was serious and even he didn’t conclusively sound as though he could keep her safe. Was he depending on her remembering something she couldn’t?
“What are you asking me to do?”
“I’m asking you to come with me. We’re placing you in protective custody until we find the person who wants to kill you.”
TWO
Julia pulled two suitcases from underneath her bed and laid them open on top of her hope chest. In that chest were many things she treasured from people close to her who had died. Her mother’s journal. Her father’s old baseball glove. Patchwork quilts her grandmother had sewn for great-grandchildren she would never know. Eli slid the Bible toward him and placed his index finger on the highlighted text.
“‘Fear thou not, for I am with thee. Be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee. Yea, I will help thee. Yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.’ Isaiah 41:10.”
Julia stilled and watched him smooth his hand over the crinkled pages. It unnerved her to hear his voice read something so intimate. Was he reading the notes she scribbled in the margin? Her most closely held thoughts? Those pages were worn with overuse. How often had she read this verse to herself to change her heart?
To help her believe that God could provide peace from the fear and worry that plagued her.
How could she get the Bible back without seeming to be trying to hide something from him?
“Do you believe in God?” she asked, holding out her hand.
He closed the Bible gently and held it out for her. “I do, but I have to admit I’m a little jealous.”
She pulled the book from his hand. “Of me? Why?”
“You seem...intimate...with those words.”
Ben, who had been leaning against her door frame, walked to the center of her bedroom. “Julia, you can’t bring anything that could potentially disclose your location. No cell phone. Nothing electronic. No computer. E-reader. We can’t take any chances.”
Julia put the Bible at the bottom of her suitcase. “How many days do you think I’ll be gone? I need to notify the hospital. I need to tell my grandfather something so he won’t worry.”
Ben neared her. “You can’t say anything that might give a hint that you’re being put in protective custody. Tell your grandfather you’re leaving on vacation and won’t be available by phone for a few days.”
“But I call him every evening.”
“You can’t,” Ben insisted. “Not for a while. I know it seems harsh, but it’s as much for your safety as it is for his.”
Eli eased Ben away from her with a nudge to his shoulder.
“Julia, I don’t want you to worry about your grandfather,” Eli reassured her. “I’ll personally ensure his safety. The marshals’ office will have someone keep eyes on him, as well.”
“Is there any other close family we should be concerned about?” Ben asked.
Julia turned away and walked to her closet. She couldn’t bear saying it. That she was alone in the world. Her parents were dead. No siblings.
“Ben, let me worry about Julia’s extended family. Like you said, this is my area of expertise.”
Had Eli said that to protect her from having to talk about her lack of a family? Did he know all about her past?
“Also, we’ll need a cover story for the hospital,” Ben said. “Perhaps you could tell them your grandfather has had a medical emergency and you need to go on a leave of absence. You don’t know when you’ll be back.”
With several items of clothing in her hands, she turned back to face them. “You have no idea how long I’ll be gone?”
Eli was the one who met her gaze. “We’ll try and resolve this matter as soon as we can, but we can’t give you a time frame. I’m sorry.”
“Can I have a few minutes alone?”
Eli motioned Ben out of the room. “Let’s give her some space.”
“I need to make some calls,” Julia said.
Eli nodded and closed the door behind him.
Julia neared the window that looked out over her backyard. She didn’t want this to be her life—to be forced to
run when she finally found some measure of peace and purpose again. But hadn’t that been what she was doing psychologically by not attempting to fill in the pieces of those missing months? This was just the physical expression of what she’d done mentally for a long time. She had struggled to let the past be the past. Now it pursued her, and she wasn’t prepared to handle what could happen. And what piece of the puzzle did Eli hold? How did he fit?
She picked up the phone. “Papa?”
“Dear Julia. It’s early for you to be calling.”
Her grandfather’s voice calmed her nerves. “Papa, I don’t want you to worry, but I won’t be able to call for a while.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“It’s not something I can talk about right now. Please, just know I’ll be in good hands.”
“Is everything all right? I don’t like how vague you’re being. It’s not like you to hide something from me.”
The tears fell freely. How her heart ached to not be able to disclose what was happening to the one man who’d given her everything. “It’s been a rough few days.”
“How so?”
“A child I took care of died. We couldn’t save him.”
“How did he die?”
“He drowned in a hotel swimming pool.”
“If only you could have been there to pull him out. You were a great lifeguard. No one died on your watch.”
What her grandfather said was true. If only every parent knew CPR. A child in these modern times shouldn’t die of something so preventable. There was a point of no return despite all the advances of modern medicine. Julia knew—she had almost been there. “It was just too late by the time he got to us.”
“I’m sorry. I know you take it personally when a child dies. Your heart is so big, Julia, but though you feel upset by this incident, that’s not what’s really going on.”
“I promise to tell you someday soon—just not right now.”
“I’ll expect a full explanation.” Her grandfather’s law enforcement background would let him be appeased.
“Yes, sir.”
“I love you, Julia. Don’t ever forget that.”
Her chest heaved. She bit her lip, and tears rushed down her cheeks. She hadn’t realized Eli had entered her room again until he sat on the bed next to her, and the movement tilted her body into his side.
He brought his arm up around her shoulder. “I’m going to get you through this, Julia. I promise. I’ll take care of your grandfather. Nothing will happen to him.”
And somehow she felt it wasn’t the first time he said those words.
* * *
It always surprised Eli how nondescript safe houses looked. This one was a town house in a middle class neighborhood. He parked in the driveway and got out. Julia didn’t immediately follow him.
Best to give her some time to absorb her surroundings.
He went around to the trunk and removed her two suitcases. As he rounded the car to the passenger side, she ventured out, edging her car door closed. He motioned her to follow him up the porch steps. At the door was a key code lock. He punched in a few numbers and entered, holding the door open for her.
“We change the code at the beginning of every week,” he said. “We feel it’s more secure than having a key floating around.” Directly ahead was a staircase. “The only thing down here is the garage entrance and the utility closet. Everything else is upstairs.”
Eli waited for her to climb the steps. Cautiously, she stepped as deliberately as a cub exploring beyond his mother’s boundaries. At the top, he motioned to the left. She took the lead and opened the door. He scooted in behind her and rested the suitcases at the bottom of the bed.
“There are cameras in every room but the bathroom.” He pointed out the one in the corner. “We’ll generally leave you alone, monitoring you through the cameras. I’m going to give you this.” He pulled a balled chain from his pocket that held a white square with a prominent red button.
“My grandfather wears one of these.”
He held it up, and she dutifully bent her head forward as he laid the chain over the turtleneck. A soft tendril of her hair slid over his fingers, stirring a warm memory. Eli forced himself to stay on task. This woman’s safety was the only priority. “It’s essentially the same thing. I’ll let you decide if you want to wear it under your shirt or not.”
She clasped her fingers around it. “I press it and you’re here at my whim?”
Her smile was timid but unexpected heat surged through his chest. “Within minutes, someone will be here. Preferably me.”
“How does this work?”
“You’ll be monitored twenty-four-seven by a team of agents. We don’t want to be obvious to the neighbors, but their response time is a couple of minutes if they see anything concerning or you feel like something is out of place.”
“I should unpack?”
“Do what feels comfortable to you. We don’t want you to feel like a prisoner.” He handed her a sheet of paper. “This is the phone number for the agents who are monitoring you when I’m not here. This number won’t change, so I suggest you memorize it. If you want to go anywhere, they’ll take you.”
She took the slip of paper from his hand. “You’re not staying today?”
Relief swept through him. Was it possible that she saw something in him she remembered? Or was it just merely that he’d been there to save her life this morning?
“I’m going to leave you with Ben tonight as I follow up on forensic items from the hit package, and I’m going to pay a visit to your grandfather. I had a few grocery items placed in the kitchen that should get you by until tomorrow.”
“Thanks for everything you’re doing, Eli.”
“I’ve upended your life. I’ll try to make the transition as easy as possible. There are a few things I want to go over with you, since this hit man seems to prefer bullets.” Eli leaned against the dresser. “If we’re in a car getting shot at, I need you to get as low as you can.”
“Wouldn’t that be natural instinct?”
Eli smiled. “You would think so until it actually happens to you. People tend to freeze in a crisis, but your emergency nursing background probably won’t allow that happen. You’re trained to work through that—to fight instead of run.”
“One thing in our favor.”
“Julia...” His voice trailed, his eyes distant. “If you’re ever taken hostage, the best thing is for you to work with us to try and get free. Try to keep the assailant’s head in clear view.”
For a kill shot.
“Do something. Anything. Drop your weight unexpectedly, but whatever you decide, just give me a warning before you do.”
“Like what?” Julia asked.
“We’ll keep the words red daisies as a code. For just you and me—okay?”
“You think someone could actually get in here?”
He shook his head. “It’s unlikely, but we try and plan for all contingencies.”
“I’ll see you—”
“In the morning. What time are you usually up?”
“I work day shift, so I’m used to being up by five thirty.”
“I won’t wake you before then.”
He turned to leave, trying to squash the thought of taking Ben’s place over the next few hours. If he didn’t solve the mystery of the hit package, Julia Galloway would never be safe.
* * *
Julia began to unpack her clothes into the plain, unvarnished pine dresser that sat in the corner.
How many other people placed their belongings here? Did all of them live through their experience? When she pulled the drawer open, pen-gouged letters in the bottom of the top drawer read...
I was here. Kristin.
Worry. That was what this s
tatement meant to Julia. This person wanted something permanent to mark her existence. A note that someone would read to imprint the memory of her in their mind.
How frail human existence was. Another lesson from the medical trenches.
I will remember you, Kristin. Who will remember me?
Loneliness overwhelmed her. An ever-present ache in her chest that was hard to stymie. Her fingers trailed over the front of her Bible. The words inside were the only reminder that she was never truly alone.
Hugging herself, she knew she wanted more. Physical contact with someone who loved her. God meant people to be in relationship with one another.
Her life...her history...meant isolation.
Nothing could change what she’d already lived through, but neither did she feel it was good for things to remain the same. It had felt unexpectedly natural to be in Eli’s arms—she wanted to have that feeling again.
Julia had decided to pack a week’s worth of items and wash them if her exile extended beyond that. Five pairs of jeans. Ten pairs of socks. Some items it was best to have extra of in case the worst happened.
That was another lesson of the ER—always prepare for the worst-case scenario.
Next came the stack of short-sleeve shirts. Long-sleeve shirts. Plenty of scarves. Three pairs of pajamas.
Her gun sat at the very bottom. Julia glanced around the bedroom, trying to find the best place for it. She tucked it underneath the mattress and then stowed the suitcases in the bottom of the closet.
After everything had a proper place, she ventured into the kitchen. Ben sat at the two-seat kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him. He seemed lost in thought—his gaze drawn to the view of the children’s play equipment that backed up to the town house, a small park for families that lived close by.
Children played while their watchful mothers stayed nearby. Several boys threw mulch chips at one another. She cleared her throat. He broke his gaze and turned her way.
“All settled?” he asked, closing his laptop.
“As well as can be expected.”
He rose from the table. “Can I get you anything? I think Eli put some tea in the cabinet.”
Fractured Memory Page 2