What She Forgot

by Tammy Falkner

  “Holy fuck,” I breathed.

  “Megan and Marley are not the only personalities. There’s a third one.” She shrugged. “There could be more. But I know there are three. Number three is named Riley James.” She looked at me and grinned. “Guess where she works.”

  “Where?” I stared at the three photos. They looked so similar. Someone who had never met the multiple personalities would never understand the differences between them. To a casual observer they looked like the same woman, but to me they looked like two women I’d met before and one complete stranger.

  “Riley James works as a data entry clerk at the police station.”

  “And how did you figure this out?” I pulled a chair close to her as she turned to face me.

  “I took all the information from every single police report for every victim, from their earliest crime to their latest. I entered all the information, like witnesses, officers, prosecutors, judges, even going all the way down to the transcriptionists. Then I cross-referenced all the information to look for common denominators. The only one I found was ‘RJ’ who scribbled their initials on the filed documents. So I started looking to see who ‘RJ’ was, and lo and behold, there she was, in living color, sitting behind a screen at the police station.”

  She shoved a bunch of documents at me and showed me the spreadsheet she’d used to cross-reference the information.

  Finally, when she’d convinced me, I sat back and let out a huge breath. “I can’t believe you figured this out.”

  She pretended to be offended. “Ye of little faith.” She bumped the tip of my nose with her index finger.

  “This is good work, Shelly.” I was seriously impressed.

  “The lingering and most obvious question is why she did this.”

  “What’s your theory?”

  “I have a couple.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Tell them to me.”

  “All of these cases were ones that the police asked you to help with. Every last one was one that was in your filing cabinet. So I think, either subconsciously or un-subconsciously, she was trying to help you. She might not even know why. But when you have more than one personality, sometimes memories overlap. Sometimes thoughts get parsed to the wrong persona. Or at least they did with Lynn.” She shrugged again. “I mean, really? What are the chances that this strange woman is going out killing people for no reason? It happens, but it’s not happening here. This is purposeful.”

  “I thought Megan was the only malevolent personality.”

  “Oh, Riley James might not be malevolent.”

  I snorted. “She has been killing people.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily make her malevolent. She probably thinks she had a really good reason for what she’s done. It’s probably to protect you, or to help you out in some strange way. She might not even know the reason.”

  “I need to call John and tell him about all this.”

  “Your old boss, John?”

  “The one and only. He’s going to love you.” I leaned over and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

  “Eww,” she cried, as she swiped a hand down her cheek, but she was laughing. “I’ll call John and get him on the line for you.”

  She picked up her phone and went through making the call, a dejected look on her face. “He’ll call you back in thirty minutes. He’s busy.”

  “He’s pretty reliable,” I said. I stared at her so long that she started to fidget.

  “What?” she asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “A smile,” I replied. “It looks really pretty on you.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, color rising on her cheeks.

  “You’ve blushed every time I’ve looked at you today.” My voice sounded gravelly even to my own ears all of a sudden.

  “You think so?” she replied, her voice soft and quiet but strong like always.

  I reached out and ran the backs of my knuckles across the apple of her cheek. “Why all the blushing?”

  “This feels…different.” She shrugged and her cheeks turned an even heavier shade of pink. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Try.”

  She shook her head and drew her lower lip between her teeth, giving it a squeeze. When she let it go, I realized she’d left little teeth marks in her tender skin. I leaned closer to her and sucked her lower lip into my mouth, tenderly swiping my tongue across where I knew the teeth marks were.

  Then I pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I have barely gotten any work done all day,” I admitted. “All I can think about is you.”

  She said nothing. She gave nothing away.

  “Every time I blink, I can feel you and the way you wrapped around me this morning.”

  She looked pointedly toward my lap, where my dress pants were growing suspiciously tight. “You mean your dick?”

  I laughed. “That too. But mainly just you. The way you held on to me. The way we fit together. The way you make me feel. I like it. I like it a lot. I like you a lot.”

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she said quietly. Then I realized how quickly she was blinking, and that her eyes were filling up with tears.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I am talking to you. And I don’t like it. I don’t do this. I don’t talk. I don’t know how.”

  “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job at it.” I would have chuckled, but something told me she wouldn’t have appreciated it.

  “I’m not. I’m terrible at it.” She buried her face in her hands and let out the most adorable growl. Then she jumped to her feet.

  I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into my lap. She didn’t protest; she went soft against me as soon as her ass hit my thighs. I turned her so that I could look into her face. “You’ve never been in love.”

  “I’ve never even been in like.”

  I grinned and jostled her in my arms. “You like me.”

  She shoved my shoulder playfully. “You know I like you.”

  “Do you think you could more than like me?” I stared into her eyes. I wanted to know the truth, and I knew I’d find it there.

  She held her finger and thumb about an inch apart right in front of my face. “I might sorta kinda just a little bit already like you more than just a little bit. And it makes me feel like I’m a fucking mess, truth be told. I don’t like messes.”

  That was the most honest thing I’d ever heard a woman say, and I had no idea how to respond. But it did make me remember why I’d come to talk to her.

  “So, speaking of messes…” I began.

  Her brow furrowed. “Okay…” she prompted.

  “We didn’t use a condom this morning.”

  She laughed. “Oh, that kind of mess!” The tension that had her wound as tight as a spring suddenly loosened.

  “Yes, that kind of mess.”

  She leaned close and pressed her lips to mine. “I have an IUD.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. And I know you had a full medical exam a few months ago, including testing for STIs.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I logged into your doctor’s office account. I was looking for something else.”

  “What something else?”

  “Your blood type,” she said quietly. She jerked a thumb toward her spreadsheet. “For my cross-referencing.”

  “You cross-referenced me?” I set her back from me a little, astounded.

  “No stone unturned and all that,” she nearly chirped at me.

  “Did you find my blood type?”

  “Yes. The rest was just extra. Extra info.”

  “But you read it anyway.”

  “Well, yeah, I skimmed it.”

  “You have to stop doing that.” But I couldn’t hold back my grin. This was one of the things I both loved and hated about her in equal measure. Thankfully, I wasn’t a guy who needed secrets. I had nothing to hide. I was an open book, just waiting for her to turn the pages. I wante
d her to know everything about me. “So you knew I got tested for everything.”

  She nodded. “And they were all negative.”

  “What if I’d hooked up with some random woman since then?” I asked.

  She snorted. “You’re a serial monogamist. I’m sure of that.”

  She was right. I didn’t like one-night stands. I kind of wanted the connection. I wanted someone to talk to. I wanted someone to love, who might be able to love me back.

  “And you’ve been tested?” I had to ask.

  “Two months ago. All clean. And I’ve never had sex without a condom. Not until you.”

  “Ever?”

  “Never.” She shook her head and the pencil fell from the knot of hair at the back of her head, making her hair fall down around her shoulders.

  I reached for the top buttons of her blouse and started to unfasten them one by one. She watched my face while I did it, not making a move except to lick her lips.

  But suddenly, my door opened. And of course Shelly did the opposite of what any other woman would do. She didn’t move. She didn’t jump up and try to fix her clothes. She just sat there. I looked over her shoulder and saw John Spanner, my old boss. He turned away to face the wall. “Should I come back at another time?”

  I patted Shelly’s hip so she would stand up, and then I turned her toward the bathroom with a tiny push. She walked away, closing the bathroom door behind her.

  “I thought you were going to call?” I said to John, sliding further behind Shelly’s desk.

  “I figured why call when I could stop by.” He laughed. “Now I’m thinking that I should have called.”

  “It’s okay.” I riffled through Shelly’s papers, putting them back in order. “I kind of wanted Shelly to explain it to you, anyway. This is her project.”

  “Who’s Shelly?” John asked, glancing toward the bathroom.

  “She’s my partner. And I’m pretty sure she’s the woman I’m going to marry someday.”

  He chuckled. Then he instantly sobered. “Holy shit. You’re serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  I motioned for him to sit down in the chair across from me. He sank down gingerly. “You have to tell me everything.”

  I chuckled. “I honestly wouldn’t know where to start.”

  He stared at me. And then Shelly stepped out of the bathroom. She had fixed her shirt and her hair, and she’d reapplied her lip gloss because I could smell cherries when she leaned close to me to pick up a pencil. She rolled her hair into a ball and stuck the pencil in it.

  “This is John Spanner, Shelly. John, meet Shelly.”

  She stuck out her hand. John, still a little shell-shocked, took her hand and shook it.

  “So, why am I here?” John asked.

  “Because I know who the vigilante killer is.” Shelly’s voice was rock-solid, leaving no room for doubt.

  John looked from me to Shelly and back again. “Are you going to tell me?”

  And Shelly started to talk. And talk. And talk. And before the end of the conversation, I think John was more than a little bit in love with Shelly too.

  Chapter 36

  Shelly

  John Spanner was a smart man. He wasn’t just book-smart, although I could tell that he took some pleasure in my spreadsheets and calculations. He was also people-smart. He had sized me up the moment he’d sat down, and I’d had to work to change his opinion of me. Now that he was leaving, I felt like I had all his respect, admiration, and his gratitude.

  “I still can’t believe you did all this,” he said on an exhaled breath. “You do good work, Shelly. If you ever want to throw this guy over, I have an analyst job for you at the department.”

  I grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

  Will’s arm encircled my waist as he pulled me close to him. “This one’s not going anywhere,” he said softly but firmly. He looked down at me and my breath caught in my throat. His eyes stared into mine and I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything but stare back. There was a lot in his gaze that I didn’t understand, and it unnerved me. “I’m keeping her.” He tweaked my nose, which made me scrunch my face up. He laughed and walked with Spanner to the door.

  “I’ll get the wheels in motion to find Riley James,” he said. He pointed a finger at me. “I still don’t understand how you did it.”

  “She’s smart,” Will supplied. “And funny.”

  “That she is,” Spanner said, admiration in his voice. “You got yourself a winner. Don’t do anything stupid to fuck it up.”

  Will grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

  Will closed the door behind Spanner and reached out to lock it. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, his voice equal parts admiration and something hot that I couldn’t decipher.

  “In a good way, I hope,” I replied, realizing the truth of my words as soon as they left my lips. I wanted to impress this man. I really wanted to impress him.

  His eyes narrowed. “In the best way possible.”

  I had amazed many men in my lifetime, and not all of them were in a good way. “How long do you think it’ll be before they find Riley James?” I asked.

  “Depends on how good she is at hiding,” he replied. “And who she is on any given day, I’d imagine.”

  “I’d really like for my sister to come home.” That was the God’s honest truth. I missed her.

  “Hopefully, this can be resolved soon and we can get her home.” His voice was kind and strong, and I appreciated that he was being honest with me. “Do you think it was Megan or Riley that went to her house?”

  I shrugged. “It’s impossible to tell, but if I had to guess, I’d say that was Megan. Riley seems to be more altruistic, more out for the greater good. Intimidation tactics are more Megan’s style.”

  “Your sister’s personalities were all good, right?”

  “Yes, but even they sometimes did bad things. Ash liked to start fights and steal things. The others had their quirks too.” I shrugged. “The mind is a funny thing, particularly when three or four personalities share one.”

  “I’d give Spanner a week. Then you can probably have Lynn and her family come back.”

  I nodded.

  He stepped closer to me and lowered his face down near mine. “You did really good work today.”

  “I do good work every day.” My voice quivered, betraying how his closeness felt, how it got me all mixed up inside.

  “You do,” he said, dragging the side of his nose down the side of mine. Then his lips touched the corner of my mouth. He touched the side of my chin, tilting my face ever-so-gently. Then his lips pressed against mine. He kissed me, solidly kissed me, his tongue rasping against the side of mine, his mouth sucking gently at my lower lip, drawing it inside where he nibbled it lightly. Just as my knees went weak, he took a step forward, driving me back against my desk.

  “What are you doing?” I asked when he finally lifted his head. My butt hit the edge of my desk and he lifted me to sit on the edge.

  “I’m kissing you,” he replied with a chuckle. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes. But why are you kissing me right now?”

  He laughed again. It was an easy sound, comfortable and light. “Is there a certain time of day that I’m allowed to kiss you or not kiss you?”

  “No, I’ve just… Never mind.”

  “You’ve just…?” He waited, tilting his head and staring at me. “You’ve just…never had a boyfriend.” He smiled. “I keep forgetting.”

  “This is what boyfriends do?” I asked. “Kiss whenever they want?”

  He nodded, a playful glint in his eyes. “This is what boyfriends do.”

  “Is this for them?” Or was it for me? Was it mine? To have and to hold? To expect every day, and not just when we were performing for Megan/Riley/whomever?

  “This is for us.”

  Were we an us? Holy shit. My heartbeat nearly jolted out of my chest.

  He stepped back. “What scares you?” he asked
, his voice clear and curious. All the teasing was gone.

  I motioned from me to him and back again. “Are we an us?”

  He nodded. “We are most definitely an us.”

  “But it was all supposed to be pretend.”

  He spread my thighs, settled between them, and jerked my ass so that I pressed hard against him. “Does this feel pretend?”

  Nothing about him felt like pretend.

  “I don’t know how you do it, Shelly, but you’re making me like you more and more.”

  “No one likes me.” No one ever had.

  “I like you.” He nudged me. “You like me too. You said so. Sorta kinda maybe a little.” He grinned as he repeated my words back at me. “And I maybe sorta kinda maybe a little more than like you.”

  “What’s more than like?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’m definitely feeling it.” He leaned in and kissed the side of my neck. His hands pushed the sun dress I’d worn today up higher, and then he hooked his thumbs in the hips of my panties, giving them a tug until my bare butt hit the desktop. I sat, stunned, unable to move. I glanced toward the door.

  “I locked it,” he said, and he kissed me again, taking my breath away. My panties dangled uselessly, rumpled around one ankle.

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  “Everything went so fast this morning,” he said, his lips at my throat again. I hitched in an involuntary breath as his teeth nipped my earlobe, and heat flooded my belly. “I didn’t get to taste you. I didn’t get to do any of the things I’ve been thinking about.”

  “You think about me?”

  “All the fucking time,” he said, his voice hoarse. “All day, every day.”

  He stepped back, and cold air filled the sudden void, making me shiver as he sat down in the chair that was used by visitors. But then he pulled it closer to me, shoving my thighs apart with his hands. I didn’t protest. Instead, I leaned back and balanced myself on my palms, my arms supporting my weight. He pulled me closer to him, closer to his face, and I could feel the warmth of his breath across my lower lips.