Memory Reload

by Rosemary Heim

  Ryan came up behind her. She didn’t turn to face him. If she did that, she’d fall back into the old weakness and want him to hold her and take care of her.

  “What the hell were you doing there?”

  It would be so easy. Ryan, by every action, had shown himself to be a natural protector. She could lean on him, just a little. Just until they knew the truth. Then there’d be plenty of time to be strong by herself. She tapped the cover of an inlaid, wooden box back into place.

  Ryan swore under his breath. He caught her hand as she reached to straighten a picture.

  “Never mind. You can tell me later.” He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her down the hall to her bedroom. “We need to get out of here. Pack some clothes. Whatever you need for the next week or so.”

  “What, are you crazy?” She pulled away from his warm hold. “I’m not leaving when we’ve just found my home. What if there’s something here, some clue that will trigger the rest of my memories?”

  “Use your head, sugar. If you think you witnessed a murder, so does someone else. That’s why they tried to get their hands on your film. That’s why this whole house has been tossed.” He shook his head. “All the signs were there. I shoulda seen them when we first walked in.”

  “What signs?” A feeling of dread curled around her stomach. “What are you talking about?”

  “Someone searched this place, top to bottom.”

  “How can you say that? Everything’s fine, it looks like it did the day before yesterday when we left.”

  “Then why have you been straightening books and pictures all over the place? We should count ourselves lucky. If they’d been really good, you’d never have known they were here.”

  “You can’t know that for sure. Not really.” Nausea seeped up the back of her throat. She wanted to deny it, even though some unconscious awareness had been warning her.

  “Don’t forget the cat.” He wouldn’t let her deny it, either. “You were surprised to find him outdoors. If this is the first time you’ve been here in about forty-eight hours and David hasn’t been here, how did Ansel get out?”

  She scooped up the young cat, hugging him close. Someone had been in her home, touching her belongings. A shudder rolled across her shoulders. “Why?”

  Ryan opened her closet door and pulled a small suitcase off the shelf. “I’m thinking they were looking for something.”

  She sagged onto the edge of the chair, a growing fear robbing her of the ability to stand. “My film?”

  “They sure covered their bases on that one, staking out the lab and searching here.” He tossed her suitcase on the bed.

  She stared at it, not really seeing it as she searched for some image just out of range. “There’s something else. What?”

  “I was kinda hopin’ you would tell me.” Ryan squatted in front of her. He covered her hand with his, interrupting the flow of her ring back and forth over her knuckle.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to see, struggling to focus on the form that refused to take definite shape. All that came to her was her camera bag. But that made no sense. They’d found nothing out of the ordinary when they looked through it.

  “Whatever they’re looking for,” Ryan continued, “they didn’t find it here, they didn’t get it from Kimo. That leaves one option. You. Until you come up with the mystery item they’ll be dogging your heels.”

  Her home should have been a sanctuary, but the knowledge that someone had gone through it once, could return at any time, destroyed any chance for peace of mind.

  “Time’s a-wasting, sugar. Start packing.” Ryan pulled her to her feet.

  As she tugged open drawers, images of a stranger going through the same motions assaulted her. She dropped a pile of clothes on the bed and headed into the bathroom. The intimate confines of that room were no easier to bear, and she fled with a minimal supply of toiletries.

  When she returned to her bedroom, Ryan was lifting Ansel out of the suitcase. He packed the last few items of clothing with a practiced efficiency. The young cat immediately jumped back in, curled into a small open space and looked at him with wide eyes.

  The tears she’d been fighting for the past hour threatened again. She sank onto the bed, pulled the young cat into her lap and looked at Ryan. “When will I be able to come back?”

  “I wouldn’t want to venture a guess.”

  She swallowed and hugged Ansel closer. “I can’t leave him. He’s not an outdoor cat. He can’t fend for himself.”

  “The neighbors?”

  She shook her head.

  Ryan sighed. “Does he have a suitcase?”

  Some of the tightness eased from her chest. Being able to take Ansel along made her feel a little less alone, a little less lost.

  RYAN CHECKED THEIR SIX as he made another lane change. He drove with the tight awareness of someone expecting to be followed. So far no suspicious vehicles had turned up. Not that that meant a whole hell of a lot.

  The cat had stopped yowling after a few minutes in his carrier. Now he seemed content with the occasional growl, just to let them know he was still there and not very happy about it.

  AJ didn’t have much to say, either. There were still holes in her story and, presumably, in her memories. He had a strong feeling that some of what she’d told him had been as carefully sanitized as the stories he’d told her.

  He didn’t like the idea that she might be hiding something. The brief glimpse of her, when they walked into her backyard and she first began remembering had been like seeing magnolia blossoms after a ten-month winter. He wanted to see that joy return.

  But that wouldn’t be possible until they sorted out the details of where David Angelini was and what had really happened to him. Painful or not, she had to start answering some questions.

  “When do you think David was killed?”

  “Two days ago, the night before…” Her voice faded.

  He waited for her to continue.

  “The night before I woke with no memories.”

  “Amnesia can be caused by emotional trauma. Seeing your best friend killed would probably fall under that heading.” He tugged on his earlobe. “What I don’t understand is why were you there in the first place.”

  Her answer came slowly and was a question of her own. “He needed a witness?”

  “Okay, that seems plausible. But why you? Why not someone from the Bureau.”

  “You mean a professional who could have provided some real backup instead of me who’s afraid to hold a gun, much less shoot one?” Bitterness edged her words. “If he could have done it completely alone, he would have been more than happy to leave me out of the picture, as well.”

  Realization seeped in, sending a chill down his back. “Pictures.” He glanced at her. “If he wanted a record of what happened—”

  “Who would be better at documenting a clandestine meeting in the middle of the night than a professional photographer who knows how to take pictures under the worst of conditions? Who else would have the equipment readily available?” She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

  Ryan reached across to brush her arm. Just a soft touch to comfort her when what he really wanted to do was pull her into his arms.

  “The Bureau has camera equipment. And at least one of the agents would know how to use it.” Angelini should never have involved her. She didn’t have the background or training to help her handle the situation she’d been dragged into.

  “You have to trust the person at your back.” AJ looked at Ryan, her eyes shadowed with doubts. “If David thought there was a connection between Justin’s police investigation and someone at the FBI…”

  “He wouldn’t have gone to any authority until he had all his evidence in place.” Ryan knew how that type of game played out. The possibility of a traitor in the Honolulu office gnawed at him.

  “Paranoia is probably a healthy frame of mind for some agents.”

  “I’ve always found
it a good idea. So long as it doesn’t get in the way of doing the job right.” Ryan looked away, unable to meet the question in her eyes.

  “All we needed was the one shot. Then we’d have the goods and could bring the SOBs down.”

  “There’s got to be something more.” Ryan shook his head. “It takes more than just a picture to convict someone.” Something like a record of transactions. He wanted her to remember the book, to trust him enough to tell him about it. “There’s a chunk of something missing.”

  “Yeah, my memory.” Her ring rolled back and forth, jingling together in the pause. “I should have stayed at the lab and processed the film myself. Then we’d know for sure.”

  “Know what?”

  “If I really did get it all. The meeting, David’s murder, who pulled the trigger. Then we’d know.” She turned and looked out of the side window.

  Ryan didn’t press her for any more information. To do so would have been beyond cruel. While the amnesia had taken a toll on AJ, the recovery of her memories had brought with it another kind of devastation.

  As much as he might want to bundle her away and keep her safe from still more pain, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. If he was really going to be honest, it wasn’t ever likely to happen with him anywhere in the picture. It simply wasn’t in his nature to take on that sort of responsibility.

  The more important issue at hand was to come up with a game plan. It was time, whether AJ liked it or not, to have a little come to Jesus and pull in the full strength of his connections.

  IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG for Ansel to make himself at home when they got back to the guest cottage. Once he knew where his food and litter box were, he curled up on AJ’s bed to watch her unpack.

  Ryan envied the cat. If he had his druthers, he’d hang out with AJ, too. First, though, there was business that needed doing. If he put off making the call to Jacquelyn any longer, he’d have to wait until tomorrow. That didn’t seem like such a good idea, given the circumstances.

  There was a message waiting when he picked up the phone. He called the voice-mail number and listened to the recording. It was from Jacquelyn, “suggesting” that he call her. ASAP.

  Ryan placed the call, running through the secured lines.

  “Kingston.” Jacquelyn answered on the first ring.

  “Miss Jacquelyn, don’t tell me you miss me so much you just had to hear this good ole boy’s voice.”

  “It’s about time you called. Where have you been?”

  “Following up on a few leads.”

  “This wouldn’t happen to pertain to your amnesiac houseguest, would it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ve had something of a breakthrough. She’s regained some of her memories.”

  “So happy to hear it. Are you free to talk?”

  “She’s just down the hall unpacking.”

  “I thought you said she’d regained her memory?”

  “Some of her memory.” Ryan tugged on his ear. “The situation has gotten a bit more complicated. It seems like a good idea to keep her here for a while, until I can check out a few details of her story.”

  “That’s all well and good, Williams, but you’ll have to put your good Samaritan impulses on the shelf for a while. You’re going back on duty.”

  Ryan bit back the protest he wanted to make. Instead, he asked, “When?”

  “Now.”

  “Where?”

  “Right there in your backyard.”

  He didn’t like the tone in his supervisor’s voice. “What’s going on?”

  “It seems there’s an FBI agent missing in paradise. The SAC doesn’t want that to become common knowledge so he called us and we’ve picked up the ball.”

  “How long has the agent been missing?”

  “One day.”

  “That’s not very long. If they’re calling in OPR, there’s got to be more to it. What’s got their boxers in a bunch?”

  “The AWOL agent has been behaving rather erratically lately. He asked for a day off, then never bothered reporting back in. They’ve been unable to contact him. There’s no answer at his home which leads the office to think something’s happened.”

  Premonition set his nape hairs on end. “Who’s the agent?”

  “David Angelini.”

  Ryan hung his head and swore.

  “Williams?” Silence flowed over the phone line as Jacquelyn waited for him to elaborate.

  “You’re in luck. It looks like I’m already in the game.”

  “You know Angelini?”

  “Friend of a friend.”

  “Not the amnesia case?”

  “AJ. Yes, ma’am.”

  Jacquelyn muttered a very unladylike phrase of her own. “All right, Ryan. I think it’s time for something resembling an official report.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Why don’t we start with the facts you have on record.”

  “Angelini left a message for his SAC that he was working on a personal project and needed a day off. The rest is what I’ve already told you—erratic behavior, failure to report in. He’s not returning their calls. A unit was sent to the house, but there was no sign of him.”

  “Did they search the house?” Ryan hoped they had. That would mean he’d jumped the gun and there wasn’t someone else looking for AJ, her film or the mysterious little notebook.

  Over the phone line, he could hear paper rustling as Jacquelyn leafed through her notes. “They did a drive-by, then knocked. No answer. No search. Why?”

  “When we got to the house—”

  “Wait a minute.” Jacquelyn cut him off. “What were you doing at Angelini’s house?”

  “AJ is Angelini’s housemate.”

  “Interesting. How long has that relationship existed?”

  “They’ve known each other for years. She moved in with Angelini and his brother about two years ago.”

  “Cozy.”

  Ryan could picture Jacquelyn jotting that little fact in her notes. The innuendo set him to AJ’s defense. “Don’t be jumping to conclusions. They’ve been friends since childhood. That’s all they were. Friends.”

  “Ryan.” Jacquelyn tsked at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

  “The house had been searched, my guess, within the last twenty-four hours.” He wasn’t about to dignify the dig. Sure, he cared about AJ, but jealousy meant a whole different kind of emotion. It couldn’t be that. He’d never allow it.

  “Any idea why someone would want to search the house?”

  “Several, actually. There may be some photos documenting an exchange of information.” He slid open the towel drawer, lifted the corner of the neatly folded cloths. The codebook, still sealed in the sandwich bag, lay undisturbed. He closed the drawer.

  “What about the notebook you found? How does that figure into this?”

  He started. For an instant it had seemed almost as though Jacquelyn had looked through the phone lines and over his shoulder. “Give me a little more time. I need to verify a few details.”

  “Don’t take too long. The SAC left me with the distinct impression there was some concern about Angelini and his loyalties. If that’s the case and he has turned, you need to pull damage control and pull it fast. What has your houseguest told you?”

  “She claims Angelini is dead.”

  “If David Angelini went underground, having someone claim that would certainly help cover his trail.”

  “Is there really any evidence of that?”

  “Nothing concrete, no. There was mention of a brother who also disappeared under mysterious circumstances. The implication is that dubious behavior may run in the family.”

  “That’s using a pretty broad brush, don’t you think?”

  “All I have is general information, which makes it difficult to see anything other than a big picture. If you’ve got something specific, feel free to fill in the details. I’d like nothing better than to prove Angelini is one of the good guys. But if he’s not, you are
to find him and remedy the situation.”

  Ryan didn’t care for how this was shaping up. AJ was not a traitor. He couldn’t believe that of her. If anything she was the victim in this.

  Jacquelyn continued. “I want to know who this woman is and what is her real relationship with the Angelini brothers. How well does she know them? If she was a regular part of Angelini’s life, why wasn’t she mentioned in the request from the Honolulu office? Use that legendary charm of yours and get some answers.”

  That didn’t sit well, either. “She’s already told me some of it. But there are still some things lost to the amnesia. They may never come back.”

  “That’s just the problem. All you know is what she’s told you. It’s too convenient. I don’t like convenient.”

  “‘Convenient’ as in ‘setup’?”

  “What does your experience tell you?”

  No. Not AJ. The sour taste of the idea sent him in search of some lemonade. On one hand he wanted to know everything about AJ. There was nothing she had to hide from him.

  The counterbalance to that was that he didn’t want to cause her any more pain than she’d already suffered. If the last few memories were too difficult, he’d rather she never remember.

  And over it all was the possibility that his gut instinct was being drowned out by a piece of his anatomy a little lower in the ranks.

  “This is messy, Ryan.” Jacquelyn sighed. “I don’t like it, not one bit. The woman is involved somehow.”

  “She’s involved because Angelini pulled her in and I don’t believe he told her the full story.”

  “I’m not buying that.”

  “You don’t have to.” He took a breath and booted down the anger. “Jackie, I’m here. I’ve watched her. I’ve seen the look on her face. She’s hurting too much to be faking it.”

  “You really believe her?”

  “She’s told me everything she can.”

  “That’s not a real answer.”

  “I know. Can you trust me on this?” If she didn’t, she’d pull him off the case. She’d probably pull him back from Hawaii, too, to eliminate any chance of him interfering with the next agent she sent in.