Memory of Murder

by Ramona Richards

  Sirens split the night air, and the sound of urgent voices echoed into the ravine. The man cursed again, backing away from the car. “We’re not done with you. We’re around every corner.”

  As he crashed away through the brush, Lindsey sobbed.

  Another light pierced the car, and Lindsey screamed, terror shooting through her.

  “Lindsey! It’s okay. We’re here to help.” This time the warm, soothing tones belonged to Sheriff Ray Taylor, and relief flooded through her as she recognized the baritone voice of her brother-in-law.

  “Ray! Please get me out of here.”

  “As soon as we can, hon. Hang in there with me.”

  Lindsey closed her eyes, let out a slow, ragged breath and nodded.

  * * *

  “Jeff. Talk to me, son.”

  Jeff heard the voice, but consciousness did not return easily, no matter how hard he tried. Light hurt. Sound hurt.

  Everything hurt.

  “Jeff, can you hear me?”

  Jeff Gage recognized the gentle but gravelly voice of the EMT. Alan Gage. His stepfather. Other voices hovered over him. Alan’s fellow EMTs and other deputies. Firm hands helped ease him onto a backboard, and a cervical collar stabilized his head.

  “Lindsey.” Jeff’s voice still sounded as if he’d swallowed a load of mulch. He tried to open his eyes, but the light burned them, making more pain spear into his skull. The odor of a strong antiseptic blended with the smell of gravel dust. Jeff fought the urge to sneeze.

  Alan squeezed his arm. “I know. They found her. Ray’s with her now.”

  “She all right?”

  Alan hesitated, and Jeff’s gut knotted. He twisted, testing his muscles against the belts of the gurney as it rolled toward the ambulance. “Alan, I don’t need this. Let me up.”

  The grizzled EMT made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl. He placed an arm over Jeff’s chest. “Boy, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. That car Lindsey was in crashed. She’s awake and headed for the hospital. So are you. You have a knot on the back of your head the size of a grapefruit. You’ve been hit with two full doses of a stun gun, so you got a nice burn on your chest and one on your shoulder. Thrashing around on the ground scraped you up pretty good, and it looks like you took a shot to the ribs as well as to your skull. Maybe a couple of breaks. Maybe a concussion. We’ll let the docs sort it out. You ain’t going nowhere but the hospital, and your mother would kill me if I even let you try.”

  Jeff stared up at Alan, his words like acid in his throat. “I should have protected her. I failed her.” He grimaced. “They’re coming after us again.”

  * * *

  “Hold still, Lindsey. I’m going to cut the ties.”

  Behind her back, there was a soft snip, and her hands fell free, releasing her shoulders and arms from their painful and stretched position. They couldn’t get her out of the mangled car, but she’d managed to twist so that Ray could cut the plastic ties. She sighed with relief. “How’s Jeff?”

  Sheriff Ray Taylor’s mouth twitched, as if he were fighting his true thoughts. Instead, he cleared his throat, his baritone voice as gruff as his words. “He’s at the hospital. Which is where you’re going.” He snapped his pocketknife closed, then draped a heavy, protective blanket over Lindsey as, behind him, two rescue workers pushed their way through the brush and debris with the Jaws of Life.

  Ray had not left her since he’d scrambled down to the car, shoving aside anything in his way. Still hyped on adrenaline and fear, she’d babbled out everything that had happened. He took in every word calmly. When she got to the part about the man with the flashlight, he’d turned and said something to an officer behind him, then faced her again.

  For the first time, Lindsey saw Ray in action as a sheriff, not just as her brother-in-law. He insisted that she focus on him instead of the unconscious assailant still trapped in the car with her—to keep her awake and alert. Although Lindsey knew all the reasons her sister June had fallen for the easygoing sheriff, she now saw why Jeff admired his mentor and boss. She saw in Ray the same mannerisms that she’d noticed so often in Jeff.

  Ray moved aside to allow the EMTs to reach her. One of the rescue workers peered in, evaluating the situation. “I’m going to cover you both. Then we’re going to cut into the roof as well as get this door open. It’s going to be really loud, and the whole car will vibrate. When we get access, everything will happen fast. We’ll grab him first, then you. You holler if any shifts cause your pain to get worse.”

  Lindsey nodded, and he pulled the blanket over both of them, tucking it in tight. In the abrupt darkness, Lindsey let out another ragged sigh and closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks again, and she pushed away thoughts of how close the man who had tried to kidnap her was to her face, that he could wake up at any moment. Even with the workers outside and the sheriff close, Lindsey’s fear of the man hovered near. He’d acted and sounded so crazy!

  Outside the car, a sputtering engine roared to full power, like a chain saw on steroids. The car rocked with the first effort, and Lindsey squeezed her eyes tighter as pain shot through her hips and back. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Again her mind snapped to her childhood and the abuse her father had inflicted.

  The shriek of ripping metal helped Lindsey push the memory away, and she gritted her teeth against the sound. Then voices called, echoing around the ravine with a new fervor. Someone peeled the blanket away, and Lindsey blinked as light and cooler air flooded in. Two men reached in, gently easing her attacker onto a backboard. Over the cacophony of the rescue efforts, she heard the steady whup-whup of a helicopter.

  “Lifeflight?” she asked one of the EMTs.

  He nodded. “They’re taking him to Vanderbilt. You’ll probably go to NorthCrest, unless you’re hurt worse than we think.”

  “Bruises, cuts, some pulled muscles. And I think I twisted my ankle when it hit the dash. Nothing major.”

  Finalizing his work on the attacker, the EMT nodded at his coworkers and the backboard disappeared as it moved up the side of the ravine. He turned his attention to Lindsey. “You a nurse?”

  “No. But I’ve been hurt bad before. I know how it feels.”

  He reached in and slid a foam cervical collar around her neck. “How ’bout we let the docs decide?”

  Lindsey took a deep breath. “Just didn’t want you fussing over me without reason.”

  The EMT grinned at her. “My job. Now I’m going to see if I can slide this board between you and the seat. You ready?”

  “My sisters will tell you I’m always ready for the next step.”

  “I can believe that. Now, don’t move. Don’t try to help me. Let me do the work.”

  Lindsey closed her eyes again, fighting the urge to claw her own way out of this stupid car.

  No. Not just a car. A 1968 GTO. A bright orange 1968 GTO. The image of her father, his face battered and blotted, shot through her mind again, along with another shadowy figure. Entwined with them was the image of the orange GTO. Lindsey gasped. Why did that happen? What could her father have to do with the car? More importantly...

  “Is she dead?”

  What am I remembering? And why?

  TWO

  “Mild concussion. Ribs bruised but fortunately not broken. Cuts and abrasions, along with the burn, which—”

  “In other words, I can get back to work. Now.” Jeff tugged his uniform shirt closed and buttoned it, trying to ignore the dirt smears and tiny tears from the gravel. He tucked it into his waistband, wincing at the soreness in his chest and muscles. The bandages they’d taped over his few injuries pulled against his skin as he tightened his belt.

  Nick Collins, the emergency-room doctor who had treated more than his fair share of the sheriff’s officers, stopped typing on a mini-laptop and looked up at Je
ff over the top of his reading glasses. “What’s got you in such a snit? You’re usually the calm one on Ray’s team.”

  Standing behind Nick, Sheriff Ray Taylor spoke grimly. “He failed in his duty.”

  Jeff scowled, feeling his face heat up, as Nick took off the black-framed glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his white coat. “Well, you also got kicked in the head. That sounds more amusing than it is. I don’t want you taking chances with that. Besides, the guy who did it is in a coma at Vanderbilt and Lindsey is a few rooms over, giving our nurses a run for their money. She’ll be all right. What’s left to do tonight?”

  Ray shifted his weight but before he could reply, Jeff snapped, “Forensics. I want to look in the car. And review the reports, and talk to Lindsey about—”

  Nick closed the mini-laptop and moved toward Jeff. “Now slow down. I get the picture. I don’t want to take any chances on the concussion. I’ve said you can leave, but only if there’s someone who can check on you tonight and in the morning.”

  Jeff grabbed the opening. “I live over my parents’ garage.”

  “Your dad is Alan Gage, right?”

  Jeff nodded. “Stepdad.”

  “Whatever. If Alan will agree to check in on you, I’ll have you out of here in an hour.” Nick nodded once, then turned and pushed through the door of Jeff’s E.R. room.

  Ray stepped up in his place, speaking before Jeff could get a word out. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Ray—”

  “No.” The sheriff crossed his arms over his chest. “First, you were on duty, but you were also a victim. I’ll have to think twice about your level of involvement. Second, Troy and his tow truck are at the scene. He’s going to haul the GTO to the garage, and we’ll go over it tomorrow. No one’s going to touch it.”

  “His garage isn’t secure enough for a kidnap—”

  “It’ll be fine. Troy’s Rottweilers won’t let anyone touch it.”

  “But—”

  Ray put up a palm. “Jeff, quit pushing. You keep this up, and I’ll ask Nick to keep you overnight. Be satisfied that they’re dismissing you and that Lindsey’s not hurt any worse than she is.”

  Jeff let out a long breath as the door opened behind Ray. “No thanks to me.”

  Ray stepped closer. “You did nothing wrong. No one could have thrown off two attacks like that.”

  “That boy raised a lot of red flags. I should have paid attention.”

  “Stop that!” A small hand waved at him, and Lindsey limped into the room, a crutch under one arm. “You did everything you could.”

  Jeff’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Everything but stop him.”

  Ray scowled. “Both of you hush. Lindsey, what are you doing out of bed?”

  Lindsey forced a small smile made crooked by her swollen jaw. A sharp feeling spiked right into Jeff’s chest. “I refuse.”

  Both men stared at her. “What?” Jeff asked.

  Lindsey looked at him. “It’s our rallying cry. The Presley sisters.” She glanced at Ray. “You can ask June about it. She wrote it. Made us memorize it. We’d say it to each other when things with our dad turned horrible. ‘I refuse to give up, give in, give over. I refuse to be defeated. He won’t win.’ After a while, we’d just look at each other and say ‘I refuse.’”

  She turned back to Jeff. “I know what the second guy did, what he threatened. To both of us. Yeah, he nearly scared me to death. But I refuse. And Ray’s right. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  Ray muttered, “Oh, boy,” as Lindsey’s blue eyes widened.

  She pushed a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and stood a little taller. “I beg your pardon.”

  Jeff felt the heat rising in his cheeks again. “That’s not what I meant! You look great. Always. But you’re hurt. I mean—the bandages—”

  Lindsey nodded. “And the cuts and bruises.”

  “Yeah...”

  “And the limp. I twisted my ankle. Not bad. Just a mild sprain.”

  “Yes...”

  “They’ll heal. I really will be all right.”

  Jeff shook his head. “Lindsey, that’s not all—”

  “And the guy who did it is in a coma.”

  “But he didn’t do it alone.”

  A rigid silence hung in the air a few moments, then Ray spoke quietly. “So let’s go over it again.”

  Jeff sat up straighter, wincing a bit from the pain of his bruised ribs. Ray took more notes as Jeff repeated his version of the night’s events. “I can’t get this out of my mind. The first guy was a kid. Not more than twenty, if that. And really strung out on something. Meth. Coke. Something.”

  Lindsey nodded again, watching Jeff closely. “He was sweating like a pig. Muttering. Totally stressed out.”

  “And that car.” He looked at Ray. “You know what a classic GTO in prime condition is worth?

  “About fifty grand, last time I checked.”

  “So would it be your first choice for a kidnapping? Why not a van or an SUV? Something more practical. Nondescript. Cheap.”

  “You think it was stolen or that it belonged to the second guy?”

  Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do think the second guy was in charge. The kid was a mess, but the second guy...he was cold, unfeeling. The kid used the stun gun on me because he had to. The older guy did it because he wanted to.”

  “Turn, three miles.”

  Both men looked at Lindsey. “What?” asked Jeff.

  She watched him closely, curiosity lighting her eyes. “That’s what the kid kept repeating. ‘Turn, three miles.’ And...” She took a deep breath. “He didn’t know where he was going.”

  Ray and Jeff exchanged looks. “How do you know?” asked Ray.

  “He had directions written down on paper. Kept checking them, talking to himself. That’s how I knew he was about to turn left. How I knew when to try something. And that paper is what the other guy stole out of the car.”

  Ray focused on Jeff again. “Well, Deputy Gage, looks like you have a lot of work to do on this one.”

  Jeff stared at his boss. “You’re letting me take the lead on this?”

  “Watching you two, I’m not sure I could stop you. Both of your minds are already clicking through the steps. But you do everything by the book. Document everything. No shortcuts that could undermine our case in court. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, I’ll get you and Lindsey home, and keep the guard on her tonight. I’ll bring her back to the station in the morning. Meet us there first thing, and we’ll get her statement and get the investigation up and running.”

  “I have to open for breakfast at five-thirty.”

  Jeff stared at Lindsey, her words sinking in. “You’re opening the restaurant tomorrow?”

  Lindsey nodded, her eyes wide. “Of course, I am. The restaurant has only been open six months. The commuters have gotten into the routine of stopping for my coffee before work, and I’m getting a crew of regulars who come in for breakfast. People are expecting me to be there. I can’t close when I’m perfectly capable of opening. That would be ridiculous.”

  “Lindsey, you are still in danger. What if he comes back to the restaurant and you’re hurt worse?” Jeff couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice. He never wanted to see her hurt again.

  “Do you really think someone would try again with a restaurant full of people?”

  “The point is we don’t know what will happen.”

  “Well, I’m not about to put my job on hold while you do yours.”

  “Lindsey—”

  “No.”

  Jeff sighed. “Why is that everyone’s favorite word tonight?” He looked at Ray, whose mouth twisted into a s
mirk. “What are you smiling at?”

  “Just thinking about how many times I’ve had a similar debate with my wife.” He looked at Lindsey. “If I didn’t know you were sisters, I would know you were sisters.” Ray’s wife, June, notorious for her quick temper and outspoken nature, had stood her ground against Ray and Jeff numerous times.

  After a few moments of silent impasse, Ray cleared his throat. “Lindsey, let’s compromise. We’ll go to the station tonight and get your statement. Then Jeff and I can pick up the investigation in the morning while you make breakfast. Will you agree to having a patrol cruiser in your lot?”

  She grinned. “Sure. Cops always know the best places to eat. It’ll be good for business.”

  * * *

  After a trauma, many people had trouble even remembering their own names. Not Lindsey. Jeff listened as she gave her statement, amazed at her clarity of memory and succinct descriptions of the evening’s horrifying events. As for himself, he could recall less now than earlier, and he remembered little of what happened after being stunned the first time. But even struggling to stave off exhaustion and the effects of the painkillers, he replayed the incident in his own mind as she talked, deconstructing every moment, every move. What could I have done differently?

  His sense of failure knifed into his chest with a pain sharper than the blow to his ribs. He’d not only fallen short as a deputy but as a man. When Ray had asked for volunteers for the nightly escort—obviously a favor for his wife—Jeff had readily stepped up. He hadn’t dated since his mother’s bout with breast cancer two years earlier, and when he’d met Lindsey at Ray and June’s wedding, Jeff had been immediately attracted by her charm, intelligence and determination to make a success of her dream to open a restaurant.

  And a little intimidated by that determination as well as her aloofness...until he realized that she worked hard to keep everyone at arm’s length—not just him. Even her own sisters didn’t know her well. When they both discovered he could make her laugh, a part of the shell fell away. They’d finally become close friends, and he’d hoped it would go further, but now...he’d failed her.