Buried Memories

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Buried Memories Page 9

by Carol J. Post


  His stomach clenched. “You didn’t tell me.”

  “I was going to. Then I talked to the PI, and that has consumed my thoughts ever since.”

  “What happened?” He scanned the length of her body. She didn’t look injured in any way, so it must not have been a physical attack.

  “Another complaint at work. This time it was a letter, someone claiming I’d charged him a hundred fifty dollars for a seventy-five-dollar permit. The letter said I should be fired and investigated for embezzling. Fortunately, my boss didn’t take it seriously. There was no return address on the letter or the envelope.”

  His tension uncoiled. The threat was serious. Someone had made some grave allegations. But this time it was her job instead of her life. He suppressed a relieved sigh. With Nicki facing the possibility of losing her means of supporting herself, she probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

  An hour later found them in a less-than-desirable part of downtown Gainesville. The businesses had bars on the windows, and trash littered the edges of the road.

  Tyler frowned over at her. “Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

  “Positive. I pulled up the directions on MapQuest and also plugged it into my GPS. They agree, so that’s a good sign.”

  He nodded, his uneasiness over her quest increasing with every passing minute.

  Nicki succeeded in driving them directly to Jenny’s apartment complex. It was two stories, made of concrete block covered in peeling paint. A metal stairway zigzagged up the side of the building, its railing continuing all the way across the front.

  Nicki pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. “Stay here, at least for the time being. She’ll be more likely to open the door if it’s just me standing there.”

  He crossed his arms. “I don’t like you going in there alone.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Now that I’ve gotten this close, I’m not going to risk you scaring her off.”

  He frowned. With that determination in her eyes, arguing with her would be pointless. But if she went inside and didn’t come out within ten minutes, he was going to break the door down.

  She looped her purse strap over her shoulder, and as she stepped out of the car, he opened his own door. They were parked a couple of spaces over but from his vantage point in the car, he could see Gina Truman’s apartment door and hear any conversation that took place. Until Nicki disappeared inside. His stomach clenched. It was going to be a long ten minutes.

  But before Nicki had even reached the front bumper, the door to apartment 112 swung open and a young woman stepped out. If there was any family resemblance at all between Nicki and her sister, the woman he was looking at wasn’t Jenny. The woman on the front stoop was short, not much over five feet, but solid, a little on the chunky side. Chances were good they were looking at Gina Truman. If so, Nicki wouldn’t even have to go inside.

  Nicki moved in her direction, and their words drifted back to him.

  “Gina?”

  “Yeah?” The single word held a lot of hesitation. Her gaze flitted over the parking area.

  “I’m looking for Jenny. I’m her sister.”

  Gina’s eyes snapped back to Nicki’s face, and she visibly relaxed. They stood facing one another, both in profile to him.

  Gina nodded. “Y’all look enough alike. I can see you’re sisters. So the guy yesterday was telling the truth.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t take any chances. A while back, Jenny crossed some bad people down in Miami. If they found her, it wouldn’t be good.”

  Tyler’s gut tightened. So Jenny wasn’t just running from the police. Her problems were more serious. Worry circled through him, settling in his chest. With a crazy ex after her, Nicki had enough to handle without exposing herself to her sister’s mess of a life.

  Nicki shifted her weight to the other foot. She was still dressed for work. Her black dress pants and modest heels were a sharp contrast to Gina’s short shorts and flip-flops. “I don’t know how much Jenny told you about her childhood.”

  “Not much. She’s a pretty private person. Tough, but private.”

  “When she was twelve, our mom was murdered. We got put into different foster homes and haven’t seen each other since. About six months ago, I started looking for her.” Nicki paused, studying the other woman. “I’d like to help her if I can.”

  Gina sighed. “I wish I could tell you where she went, but I don’t know.”

  “What did she say when she was leaving?”

  “Nothing much. She came tearing through the front door and ran straight to our room. Then she started throwing her stuff in bags. She said they were closing in, so it was time to run again.”

  “Did she give you any hint about where she was headed?”

  “Not at all. She just said she had to disappear. But first she was going to see a wrong made right.”

  “Any idea what she was talking about?”

  Gina shook her head. “I asked her, but she was being real mysterious-like. I got the idea it was something before all the Miami stuff. Something from a long time in her past.”

  “If you hear from her, will you let me know?”

  “Sure. Give me your number.”

  While Nicki fished in her purse for a pen and paper, a door opened upstairs. A woman stepped out and moved down the walkway, five-inch heels clicking against the cement floor. Her leather miniskirt stretched taut across her hips, and the thin tank she wore left little to the imagination. She made her way down the stairs, weaving between three young men who sat at varying heights, sharing a smoke. Based on the sweet smell that wafted to him, it wasn’t tobacco. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she moved toward the parking lot.

  Tyler shifted his gaze back to Nicki, but not before taking in the sunken cheeks beneath the woman’s heavy makeup and the creases around her eyes and mouth. She probably wasn’t more than thirty, but she’d lived a hard life.

  Nicki climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. “She doesn’t know where Jenny went, but she’s going to call me if she gets word from her.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” He studied her for several moments. She wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, but he couldn’t keep quiet. “Gina said Jenny has some bad guys after her. Doesn’t that worry you?”

  “A little.” She backed from the space, then headed out the same way they’d come in.

  “Whoever is after her, you don’t want her to lead them to you. Maybe you should stop your search. Sometimes it’s better to leave well enough alone.”

  Her hands tightened on the wheel, and her eyes filled with that determination he knew so well. “I won’t turn my back on her.”

  “You’ve got enough of your own problems. Do you really want to take on Jenny’s?”

  “I want to find her, whatever it involves. You have a brother and a sister. I have no one.”

  You have me. The thought shot through his mind, but he immediately dismissed it. She didn’t have him. She had his friendship, at least for the time being. Then, once this was over, once Nicki was safe and the work on the inn was complete, he’d be gone.

  A block away, she braked to ease around an old man pushing a heaped-up shopping cart down the edge of the road. “These people have it rough.”

  “A lot of them choose the lifestyle they have.”

  “No, they don’t. It chooses them.” She stopped at a traffic light, then turned to look at him. “Do you think they want to live that way? Like the woman who walked past you a few minutes ago. She’ll spend the night turning tricks. Maybe she’ll still be alive in the morning.”

  The light changed, and she stepped on the gas. “Even Gina. On the surface she seems okay. But you didn’t look in her eyes and see the hopelessness there.”

  He smiled over at her, but her
expression didn’t soften. “You’ve always stuck up for the underdog.”

  “That’s because I’ve been the underdog, more times than I can count.”

  Yes, she had. So she would always have a heart for those less fortunate. It was innate, an intrinsic part of her.

  And that was one of the things he loved about her.

  SEVEN

  It was dark, except for a narrow shaft of light spilling into the room from somewhere down the hall. But it wasn’t silent. There was a tussle, panting, then curses.

  A woman ran into the room, a man right behind her. He pushed her to the floor and pinned her there.

  Light glinted off the blade of a knife. He raised it and plunged it into her back, again and again. Screams echoed through the room, then fell silent.

  The woman lifted her head and turned it to the side to mouth a single word—“Run.”

  Nicki jumped from the bed and stumbled backward until the dresser stopped her. Bile pushed its way up her throat, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. The scene was the same as the other two times she’d had the nightmare. Just as real, just as bloody.

  But what had chilled her the most was the woman’s face—the pain and fear and desperation.

  And her own recognition.

  The face had belonged to her mother.

  Cassie nudged her hand, then pressed her body against Nicki’s legs. Nicki dropped to her knees to wrap both arms around the dog’s neck and bury her face in the soft fur. For several moments, she clung to her, the lifeline linking her to sanity. Gradually her racing pulse slowed and her spinning thoughts stilled.

  What had just happened?

  She’d dreamed of her mother’s murder, as real as if she’d been there. And her mother had warned her—or somebody—to run.

  Was it more than a dream? Was it a memory?

  No, that was impossible. She hadn’t been there. She’d been next door, with Lizzie and her family. While Lizzie had waited in the doorway to her room, Nicki had gotten her things together—pajamas, clothes to put on in the morning, her toothbrush and toothpaste, a brush and ribbons and barrettes for Lizzie and her to play beauty parlor. She’d never forget that night, because it had been the end of an era. After that, everything had changed. Her whole life had been turned upside down.

  The next morning was just as clear in her mind. She’d woken up to Mrs. McDonald shaking her gently, the woman’s face streaked with tears, telling her that something awful had happened, that her mother was gone and people would be coming to get her, people who’d love her and take care of her.

  So why was she dreaming about her mother’s murder as if she’d been there and witnessed it?

  She pulled a T-shirt and pair of shorts from the dresser. It was four thirty on a Saturday morning. She should go back to sleep. But that was the last thing she felt like doing. What she wanted to do was walk.

  She moved to the nightstand and picked up her phone. At this time of night, most normal people were asleep. But there was a good chance Tyler wouldn’t be. She keyed two words into the phone.

  You up?

  The return text came moments later, a frowny face.

  Her thumbs slid over the screen again.

  Walk?

  Be right there.

  By the time she finished dressing, brushed her hair into a high ponytail and clipped on Callie’s leash, Tyler was at the door with Sasha. She stepped onto the porch, and he looked at her with raised brows.

  “Another nightmare?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about?”

  He shrugged. “Just stuff.”

  She released a sigh. He was as tight-lipped as ever. But she didn’t expect otherwise. She stepped off the porch and headed down the drive. “I’ve had nightmares most of my life. But the ones I’m having lately are different.” She was going to sound crazy, but she needed to talk to someone. And if there was anybody she could be herself with, it was Tyler.

  If only he could be himself with her.

  “I keep dreaming I’m seeing my mother’s murder.”

  “Since when?”

  “The last couple of weeks.”

  He nodded, his expression thoughtful in the light of the half moon. “After all these years, the event was probably pushed to the back of your mind. The visit from the detectives a couple of weeks ago put it front and center. And all the stress you’ve been under hasn’t helped.”

  What he said made sense. But it was more than that. “I don’t know. Aside from the fact that I’m just an observer, it doesn’t feel like my other nightmares. It seems so real. It’s almost like I’m...remembering.”

  He looked over at her, brow creased. “You said you weren’t there.”

  “I know.”

  “Is it possible you were?”

  “No. I distinctly recall going to Lizzie’s house. My memory isn’t the slightest bit foggy on that. She came home with me to get my stuff together. Then we went to her house. We took turns fixing each other’s hair, and her mom made chocolate chip cookies, brought them to us hot out of the oven.”

  She smiled at the memory. The time spent with Lizzie and her mother had been the one bright spot in an otherwise dreary and terrifying childhood.

  “A little while later, we went to bed. The next thing I remember is waking up and Mrs. McDonald breaking the news to me.”

  In the distance, headlights angled toward them, someone coming from the direction of town. Tyler grabbed her arm and pulled her into a neighbor’s yard. The dogs followed without hesitation. All while she had spoken, he’d listened with tense alertness, his eyes taking in their surroundings. They ducked behind a tree, and the vehicle moved past at a normal rate of speed. It was an SUV. As it neared her house, it didn’t slow or make any other suspicious moves.

  Tyler let out a breath. “False alarm.” He led her back toward the road. “Cars in the dark make me a little more nervous now than they used to.”

  She cast him a sympathetic smile. “With good reason.”

  By the time they returned to the house, the first hint of dawn had touched the eastern sky. He stepped onto her porch and watched her unlock the door.

  “What are your plans for today?”

  She shrugged. “Some cleaning, laundry. Work on a stained glass project or two.” The problem was, none of what she mentioned appealed to her in her current state of mind. “Maybe I’ll go into town, bum around some of the shops. Or hang out at the park.” Anywhere that would take her thoughts away from threats and nightmares for a while.

  “If you go this morning, I’ll go with you.”

  “You have to work.”

  “Andy’s doing a half day today, not going in until this afternoon. Joan’s got him tied up this morning.”

  “In that case, how about a trip to the park?” Sitting on a bench overlooking the water, with the happy voices of children drifting to her from the playground, would go a long way toward soothing her frayed nerves. Especially with Tyler sitting next to her. As long as he was there, he wouldn’t let any threats near her. “Nine o’clock?”

  “Nine o’clock.” He lifted a hand in farewell.

  “Later.”

  After breakfast, she dove into her housework. In spite of her lack of enthusiasm, she managed to get quite a bit accomplished over the next three hours. When the doorbell rang, she’d just finished putting away the laundry and had all the cleaning except the vacuuming done. She was apparently looking forward to this outing with Tyler more than she’d realized.

  After checking the peephole, she swung open the door. He stood on her porch, this time without Sasha. His black F-150 sat in her driveway.

  He motioned in that direction. “I brought my truck over. You seemed a little cramped in the Fiat
.” He grinned. “Not to mention me with my long legs.”

  “I’m supposed to get my Ram back Monday or Tuesday.” She walked with him to his truck. “I’ve always had trucks, never owned a car. My first vehicle was a blue Silverado pickup with chipped paint and several dents. But I was so proud of that thing.”

  He walked her to the passenger’s side, and when she had climbed in, he closed the door. As he backed from the drive, she continued.

  “At sixteen, I got a part-time job at the ice cream parlor in town. For over a year, I saved every penny I made, until I had enough to buy myself a vehicle.”

  The Silverado hadn’t looked great, but she’d paid for it herself, and that had made all the difference. Some of her friends had gotten new cars for their sixteenth birthdays. Six months later, half of them had wrecked those same new cars. But the Silverado got her all the way through college and was still chugging when she’d traded it in four months after graduation.

  Tyler shifted into Drive and headed down Hodges toward town. “I didn’t have to buy a vehicle until I got out of the Army. When I was a teenager, we didn’t have the money, with Mom being sick and everything. By the time I hit seventeen, she wasn’t driving anymore, and I was helping my aunt get her to and from her chemo and doctor’s appointments. So her Camry sort of became mine.”

  Nicki watched him as he spoke. His tone was casual, but she wasn’t fooled. His mother’s illness and death had devastated him. She could see it in his eyes, in the hard lines of his jaw.

  Tyler eased around the curve from Dock Street onto A, then pulled into a parking space. On the grassy area in front of them, a father worked with his boy to get a kite airborne. Beyond them, children scurried over a variety of playground equipment painted cheery shades of yellow and blue. Beyond that was the beach. The water was like glass, the line between sea and sky blurred, except for the green mass that was Atsena Otie Key.

  Nicki stepped from the truck, then walked with Tyler toward the beach. Mornings and evenings were popular times at the park, when the July heat and humidity were much more bearable.

 

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