Deadly Recall
Page 24
She came to her feet just as Colin entered the hospital. The moment he spotted her, he walked over to her. The lines in his forehead told her he was worried. “I got a call that you were hurt.” His gaze roamed over her. “Are you okay?”
“I saw blood and I fainted. I’m fine.”
Colin took hold of her hand. “All I could think about when I heard you were in Colfax where the shooting took place was I didn’t want our last conversation to be our last conversation.”
Jessie stepped closer and sank her head into his chest as he wrapped his warm arms around her.
“Nobody at the scene could clarify who had been shot. I couldn’t think straight.” He took a breath, his emotional pain weighing heavily.
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “I’m okay. We’re okay.” When she pulled back, she saw another officer standing a few feet away. “Are you here on business, or did you come all this way to see if I was all right?”
“Both.”
“Can I give you my statement in the morning?”
“That’s fine. And after that, maybe you can find the time to have a cup of coffee with me?”
“I’ll take a look at my calendar,” she teased.
The corners of his mouth turned upward, and his eyes sparkled.
She smiled back at him. “Coffee sounds great.”
On the way home, Jessie’s heart was heavy with emotions. At times like now it seemed her job made her rethink the importance of family values. Rickey Talbert’s intense love for his daughter, Hannah, had driven him to the edge. Owen Shepard had learned a tough lesson, and yet Jessie wondered if it would change him as a person or if he would simply move on as if nothing had happened.
She thought of her mother then, and that stunned her.
That her mother would pop into her mind at a time like this took her by surprise. Even more bewildering was that Jessie felt suddenly curious as to why she’d left in the first place. Jessie’s reasoning had always been that her mother was selfish first and free-spirited second.
But time had a way of making the truth fade. Maybe there was more to it, missed details and unheard explanations for why her mother had left.
Maybe Jessie had never known her mother at all.
Maybe someday she would find the courage to look for answers.
But not today, and certainly not tomorrow.
The last few weeks had merely confirmed that the world could be a fucked-up place at times. Right now Jessie felt the need to spend time with the people she loved and cared most about. Tomorrow night, she decided, she would make dinner: lasagna and garlic bread and a salad with candied pecans and creamy dressing. She would invite Colin, Zee, Arlo, and Ben. It was time she started taking care of her own relationships.
It was midnight when Jessie found a parking spot in the alleyway. She climbed out of her car and saw a familiar van parked in front of her house. She walked up to the window and peered inside.
Ben Morrison was asleep behind the wheel.
She knocked on the window.
His eyes snapped open.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He leaned over and opened the passenger door, then rubbed his eyes.
Using the handle, she pulled herself into the seat.
“You said you wanted to talk,” Ben told her. “Since you weren’t home, I thought I’d get some shut-eye.”
The sarcasm in his voice was hard to miss. “You got kicked out of the house?”
“I can’t get anything past you.”
She was too tired to find him humorous. “Do you have a place to go?”
“The van is fine.”
He looked like shit. “Come on. You can stay with us.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t do that to you.”
She gestured toward the street. “Then I’ll take you to my office instead.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
“I insist. I won’t be able to sleep well knowing you’re out here in the cold. Come on. You’re going to stay in my office. I keep a cot with blankets and a pillow in the office closet. I even have a spare toothbrush. There’s a bathroom with a shower down the hall. It’ll be perfect. While we set everything up for you, I’ll tell you where I’ve been because I think it might interest you.”
Twenty minutes later the cot was made up and ready. Jessie disappeared for a minute, then brought back two cold beers.
“No, thanks,” he said. “I don’t drink.”
“Well, then. Don’t mind if I do.” Jessie took a seat at her desk, propped her feet up, opened a bottle, and helped herself. She’d already told him about Nick and Ashley Bale. Now it was time to tell him about her trip to Clarksburg. He was sitting on the edge of the cot. He was such a large man she was surprised the bed didn’t teeter to one side.
“Your real name is not Morrison,” she said casually. “It’s Wheeler.”
“I like how you just get right to the good stuff.”
She shrugged. “It’s late. I’m tired. I saw way too much blood tonight.”
“I thought you were going to get help for that.”
“I had to cancel my first appointment. It will happen, though.”
“Did you find out anything else about my parents?” he asked.
The beer tasted remarkably good. “I did. Your mom died under suspicious circumstances.”
“Murdered?”
“Not sure yet.”
“What about my father?”
“He’s still alive.”
“No shit.”
She nodded.
“Where’s he living?”
“Folsom Prison. Life sentence.” Jessie watched him. He hardly flinched. Always cool and calm under fire.
“Do you think Nancy knows?” he asked.
“Definitely. I believe your sister has been doing everything in her power to try to protect you.”
“Or maybe she’s trying to protect herself.”
“Maybe.”
“So my father had a dark side.”
Jessie exhaled. “It sounds like your mother did, too.”
“And what about me?”
The question took her by surprise. “I don’t know, Ben. Maybe I’m biased. You saved my life. You’ve proven yourself over and over to be a good guy. I think you’re way too hard on yourself.”
His elbows were propped on his knees, his hands resting on the sides of his face. “I don’t know. I think I’m seriously losing control.”
Their gazes met.
“The blood results came back,” he said. “It was a match.”
“I already told you if that happened, it means absolutely nothing.”
He looked away.
“You helped me find Sophie,” she told him. “You gave me closure. I want to do everything I can to give you the same.”
Silence.
“We can do it,” Jessie went on. “I know we can.” She raised her bottle of beer. “Here’s to finding out who Ben Morrison really is.”
He stared straight ahead. When he failed to respond, she leaned forward and saw that he was fixated on his reflection in the window. His eyes were dark, his jaw tense. She swallowed when he finally looked her way.
Neither of them said a word.
They didn’t need to.
They were both afraid—scared to death—of everything. And quite possibly of nothing at all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For me, the stages of writing fiction always seem to go something like this: excitement over all the endless possibilities, torturous madness and what the hell was I thinking, and finally euphoria and extreme gratefulness.
Many thanks to Liz Pearsons, Charlotte Herscher, Amy Tannenbaum, Ashley Vanicek, Robin O’Dell, and all the great people at Thomas & Mercer!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2014 Morgan Ragan
T.R. Ragan has sold more than two million books since her debut novel appeared in 2011. A former legal secretary for a large corporat
ion, she is now a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author. T.R. is the author of the Faith McMann Trilogy; six Lizzy Gardner novels (Abducted, Dead Weight, A Dark Mind, Obsessed, Almost Dead, and Evil Never Dies); and Her Last Day, the first novel in her Jessie Cole series. In addition to thrillers, she writes medieval time-travel tales, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense as Theresa Ragan. An avid traveler, her wanderings have led her to China, Thailand, and Nepal. Theresa and her husband, Joe, have four children and live in Sacramento, California. To learn more, visit her website at www.theresaragan.com.