by Debra Webb
There was another point he had no intention of analyzing too deeply tonight.
He would just have to figure all that out tomorrow. And, if he was lucky, maybe Alex would remember something.
Like who killed Deputy Miller.
Chapter Four
At 3:00 a.m. Mitch jerked awake. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table, all the while listening intently for whatever it was that had awakened him. Silence echoed through the house like the hollow sound that emanates from a deep well.
He sat up and threw the covers back. He was a light sleeper and he couldn’t ignore what his senses were telling him. Something was wrong. Though he couldn’t say what he’d heard, if anything, some anomaly in the night had yanked him from dreamland. Which was just as well, he decided dropping his feet to the floor. He’d been dreaming about sex. His body was as hard as a rock and throbbing for satisfaction, which didn’t help.
Nor did the fact that the subject of his sensual fantasies was his current houseguest.
He tugged on his jeans but didn’t bother to fasten them since that would only add to his discomfort. Crossing the room he forked his fingers through his hair and pushed it back from his face. He stalled at the door when another low, indistinguishable sound reached him.
Alex cried out again, snapping him back into action. A few steps later and he was in her room. She barreled straight into him just inside the door.
“Whoa!” Mitch steadied her trembling body. “It’s okay,” he assured her, assuming she’d had herself a bad dream.
“I have to go outside,” she urged, trying to pull away from him. “I need air.”
He couldn’t see her eyes in the dark, but he could hear the sheer terror in her voice. Whatever she’d been dreaming about, it had scared the hell out of her and panic had taken over.
“Take a deep breath and calm down. We’ll go out onto the porch.” As she inhaled deeply, he ushered her into the hall and toward the front door. She held that breath for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. “That’s good,” he encouraged. “Now take another and stay right here until I tell you otherwise.”
He unlocked the door and stepped onto the porch. He surveyed the moonlit yard and the trees beyond. Under the cover of the porch it was as dark as pitch.
“All right, you can come out.”
She bolted through the door. Mitch kept a bit of distance between them. She didn’t appear to want to make a run for it, she just stood on the edge of the porch in the dark gulping in the fresh night air.
Finally, she sank onto the top step. He sat down next to her. The theory that someone was trying to kill her flitted through his mind again, but he dismissed it. It was still only a theory. Besides, no one but his deputies knew where Alex was. Even if someone were out there, he’d have to be using night vision to see them. And if he was right about his assumptions, whoever had been after Alex was long gone now that he knew he’d killed an officer of the law. Mitch doubted that any revenge the shooter might be seeking against the Colby Agency ran deep enough to risk facing a capital murder charge.
Mitch studied Alex’s profile in the moonlight that spilled over the steps. Her dark hair was mussed, her hands still trembling when she pushed it behind her ears. Her eyes were large and long-lashed and the line of her nose was in perfect proportion to her other facial features. But the lips were the part that drew his attention like a beacon in the night. Full, with a delicious natural color that made him think of shiny red apples. The kind of lips movie stars paid the big bucks for. The fact that she was wearing a T-shirt for a nightgown only added to the appeal of the image and did nothing to lessen the heaviness in his groin. He kept his gaze carefully averted from those long toned legs.
“Feel better now?”
“Yeah, thanks,” she murmured, her voice as shaky as her hands.
For a long while she sat there, staring up at the brilliant sky. The stars were still twinkling like uncut diamonds scattered across a black velvet canvas. Mitch was relatively sure they didn’t have skies like this in the city. Only in the wide-open spaces of the country could you see a sight like this. He wondered if she was as much in awe of it as he was of her.
“He was wearing a black ski mask,” she said, shattering the silence that had lengthened between them.
Mitch shifted his focus back to that lovely profile. Her brow was creased in concentration, those full lips drawn down into a frown. She drew in a ragged breath, struggling to remember that night filled with unspeakable terror. Terror he’d only theorized about at this point. He wanted desperately to reach out to her, but he resisted. He had to keep this relationship clear of intimate entrapments. Chemistry. That’s all it was anyway. A man and a woman getting a little too close.
“Was there anything about him you recognized?” he prodded, focusing on business. “Think about how he smelled, the sound of his voice if he spoke. Did any of it strike a chord of recognition?”
She flinched. “He hit me.” She jerked again as if vividly recalling the blow. “Over and over. He wouldn’t stop. I tried to fight back, but then…” Alex swiped at her eyes. “I can’t remember.”
She didn’t speak for a time, then eventually began again. “I could hear someone yelling in the background but it wasn’t the guy who was hitting me. It was someone else…another man.”
Mitch kept his hands tightly clasped between his spread thighs to keep from reaching out to her. “Close your eyes and think about the smells, the sounds, other than the voice.”
She obeyed, concentrating hard with the effort. “Exhaust fumes,” she said eventually. “There was a car running in the background.”
“Anything else?”
She shook her head. “It’s pretty fuzzy. Just snippets of movement and emotion. Nothing I can nail down.” She shivered, from her memories or the cold, he couldn’t be sure. “Maybe I’m afraid to remember.”
Alex stood before he could respond to that statement, turning her attention back to the night sky, a much safer, more comforting subject. Mitch pushed up beside her. When she shivered again he couldn’t help himself, he touched her. Just the slightest caress of her bare arm. Electricity sizzled along his fingertips.
“You should go back inside and try to get some more sleep.”
She turned to him, her eyes searching his, trying to evaluate what it was he was offering with that touch. “I appreciate you allowing me to stay here rather than in a cell or at the hospital.”
Mitch tamped down the impulse to trace that fading bruise on her left cheek. “As long as you don’t give me any trouble you’re welcome to stay. When I told Ashton I would take care of you, I meant it.”
“You don’t believe I killed Miller, do you?”
The question caught him off guard. “I haven’t decided what I think just yet,” he lied. “You’re still a suspect.”
She laughed softly. “You know I didn’t do it. You’re only keeping me around to see if you can draw out the real killer. I know what you’re up to, Sheriff. And I don’t mind. I want him just as badly as you do because somehow he’s connected to Marija’s disappearance. And maybe even to Jasna’s alleged suicide.”
“That’s a pretty big leap considering the lack of connection,” he countered. And she was right, he did hope that keeping her around would draw out the killer…if he hadn’t disappeared already. If there was any chance of catching the guy, Mitch wanted to take full advantage of it. He just hadn’t admitted on a conscious level that Alex was his bait. Bait he intended to keep safe at all costs. “How do you know that the guy didn’t follow you from Chicago? This could be some sort of vendetta resulting from an old Colby Agency case.”
She considered that possibility for a moment. “Maybe, but I doubt it. It just doesn’t feel right. This is about the case I came here to work on. It has to be.”
“Maybe,” he echoed her response. “But then again, maybe not.”
“Good night, Sheriff,” she said, clearly uninterested in pursuing the dis
agreement.
Before Mitch could think of a good enough reason to stop her she was across the porch and at the door. She paused before going inside and looked back at him.
“I’d like to go to where it happened,” she said bluntly. “Can we do that today?”
The doctor had said not to try and force anything, to let the memories come on their own. “I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do.” Another part of him wanted to do just that. To speed up the process and get this investigation over with so he could get on with his life and get Alex Preston out of it.
“I need to see it. I need to be there.” She returned his steady gaze with a determined one of her own. “I also want to talk to the TBI agent in charge of the serial killings you told me about. And, if possible, I want to see the man accused of the crimes.”
A startled laugh choked out of Mitch. “You expect me to get you an appointment with Waylon Gill? Even if that were possible, I don’t see what it would accomplish.” Mitch strode slowly toward her. “What on earth would you say to him?” He hadn’t meant that last remark to come out in such a patronizing tone, but it had and it was too late to take it back.
“Just get me the appointment,” she insisted, her tone openly challenging. “You’ll be surprised at what I can accomplish.”
Before Mitch could say anything else she whirled around and stomped inside. He swore at his own stupidity. How could he walk away from a challenge like that? If he didn’t at least try to get her the appointment then he couldn’t disprove her theories or her professed abilities.
He had no choice.
Locking the door behind him, he headed back to his own bed. Give her enough rope and she would hang herself, he decided. Once she’d gotten these ridiculously far-fetched scenarios out of her system, then maybe the memories would come flooding back. Mitch had done a little reading up on retrograde amnesia. Most of the time a victim could put off the inevitable by convincing herself that there was another answer for her problems.
Alex would prove no exception.
ALEX SURVEYED the forest that closed in on either side of the road. The changing colors of the leaves added splashes of contrasting hues here and there breaking the monopoly of green. The canopy of thick boughs blocked most of the midmorning sunlight, casting the unpaved road in shadows. The occasional glint of sun sliced through nature’s covering like shafts of polished steel.
Just like yesterday in Jasna’s room, her chest felt too heavy, too tight. Alex had the sudden overwhelming urge to run. She focused on the driver and did all in her power to slow her heart’s fierce pounding. Hayden had promised to keep her safe. She had no reason to doubt his word. Something about him made her feel safe…made her trust him instinctively. Something more than the badge he wore. A flash of his handsome face lined in anger flitted through her thoughts, but she dismissed the senseless bit as insignificant. She was the only witness he had at the moment, he wasn’t about to let anything happen to her. At least not until he had some answers.
The Jeep slowed and he turned left onto a narrow passage that fell well short of her definition of a road. That sense of impending doom enveloped her all over again. Hayden parked the vehicle maybe ten feet from a small clearing. The whole area had been cordoned off with the customary yellow tape.
“They impounded your rental car and Miller’s vehicle for the forensics guys to scour.”
She’d known they would do that. She hadn’t expected the vehicles to still be here. Though it might have helped her visualize if they had been in place.
Alex slid out of the Jeep. She scanned the so-called road behind her, then the vehicle in which she’d arrived. The image of a gray sedan abruptly seared into her mind. She was climbing out of the car on the driver’s side. She was looking around, trying her best not to appear as scared as she felt. The remembered uneasiness slid through her even now.
“Did you hear what I said?”
The sound of Hayden’s voice jerked her from the strange dreamlike state. “What?” She blinked repeatedly in an effort to bring him into focus.
“Your car was parked here.” He gestured to his Jeep. “Miller’s was parked a few feet farther up.”
Feeling lost and yet somehow as if she knew her way, Alex moved toward the clearing. Unintelligible voices whispered inside her head. Snippets of indistinguishable images sifted through as well. She stood in the middle of the clearing and turned around slowly. Her eyes closed and the voices grew louder, the images grew more vivid.
You’re going to kill her. Dammit. You didn’t say anything about killing her.
The breath flew out of her lungs at the memory of a booted foot slamming into her abdomen. The memory was so vivid Alex gasped. She clutched her stomach and doubled over. She could hear Hayden calling out to her but she couldn’t answer. The back of a hand collided with her cheek. She jerked back uncertain whether it was real or imagined. That’s enough! the male voice she recalled so well shouted. She staggered, pain roaring through her body, dizziness threatening her ability to stay vertical. The ground rushed up to meet her. Strong fingers closed around her throat, jerking her up, then slamming her against a tree. Pain exploded in the back of her head and everything went black.
Mitch fell to his knees next to Alex. Her body jerked and quivered. He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Alex! Can you hear me?” Her entire body suddenly tensed, then went bonelessly limp against him.
What the hell was happening? He scooped her up and pushed to his feet. He had to get her to the hospital. His heart pounding so loud he could hardly hear himself think, Mitch settled her into the passenger seat and fastened the seat belt around her. He checked to make sure her breathing was steady. She was out cold and her pulse was rapid. Her skin felt clammy.
Mitch rounded the hood and jumped behind the wheel. He broke every speed limit he’d sworn to uphold getting to the hospital. By the time he roared up to the emergency entrance, Alex was coming around.
He bounded out of the vehicle and hurried to her side. She crumpled against his chest when he pulled her into his arms once more. His gut tied in knots at the helpless feeling that swamped him. He should never have taken her to that clearing. The doctor had warned against forcing the memories. Mitch knew better. It didn’t matter that it was her idea. The bottom line was he shouldn’t have allowed it.
Already at the hospital seeing another patient and to Mitch’s utter relief, the neurologist was on his way to the E.R. within minutes. The doctor ordered a second CT scan just to make sure nothing new was going on. Then he did a routine reflex screening.
“Everything appears to be in order, Ms. Preston,” Dr. Reynor announced. “It’s not unusual for an amnesia patient to experience a mild seizure during an emotionally traumatic period like this.”
Mild? The episode had scared the hell out of Mitch. He breathed his first sigh of relief since seeing her go down in that clearing. He’d paced like a caged animal in this tiny exam room while he waited for the doctor to finish.
“You’re sure she’s okay?” he demanded, knowing full well the doctor had already given him the answer.
Dr. Reynor patted Mitch on the shoulder. “Really, Sheriff, she’s fine. The fact that some of her memory is coming back already is a good sign. I know you’re in a hurry to get this case solved, but recapturing the lost time can’t be rushed. As I told you before, whatever comes will come in its own time.”
“The memories aren’t specific,” Alex told him, breaking into the conversation for the first time. “They’re more like feelings.”
The doctor nodded. “The detail will come.” His brow furrowed in concern. “With events this traumatic it would be in your best interest not to rush it, Ms. Preston. I can’t caution you strongly enough to take it slow and easy. And you shouldn’t be alone. Like today, you might need assistance during a particularly vivid recall.”
“Don’t worry,” Mitch cut in. “She won’t be alone.”
ALEX LEANED BACK into the seat of Mit
ch’s Jeep and tried to relax. Her visit to the scene of the crime hadn’t gone anything like she’d expected. Sensory overload had sent her into a seizure. That wasn’t something she wanted to repeat anytime soon. The episode had left her weak and disoriented. Almost two hours later she was still feeling a little out of it. Dr. Reynor had insisted on keeping her at the hospital for observation for an hour.
She glanced at her watch and realized the time. The appointment Hayden had made with the TBI agent was in less than one hour. “How far is it to the prison?”
“Forget it,” Hayden snapped. “There’s no way I’m subjecting you to any other stressors today.”
Fury washed over her. “It isn’t your choice.”
Hayden shot her a look, those blue eyes icy with challenge. “You wanna bet? I made the appointment. I can cancel it.”
Alex searched for calm. She had to appeal to his sense of reason. “Just because Jasna is dead doesn’t mean I don’t intend to follow through with my investigation. The only way I can disprove your uncle’s involvement is to show that her sister’s disappearance was related to Gill’s killing spree.”
That should do it, Alex thought, giving herself a mental pat on the back.
Fury instantly melted the ice in those cool blue eyes, turning them the color of molten steel. “We’ve had this conversation already. You will not drag my uncle’s name through the mud. I won’t allow it. The girl was fine when Phillip and Nadine took her to the airport.”
A muscle ticked rhythmically in his tense jaw, lending a dangerous quality to his annoyingly attractive features. Just what she needed, a keeper who was too good-looking and entirely too sexy for his own good—or hers.