Chapter Thirteen
“Alex?” Ryan called out as he entered the cottage. Ansel trotted up to greet him, but there was no sign of Alex.
Ryan dropped the bag from Kimo’s lab on the counter and walked through the cottage. A fear he wouldn’t name grew.
There was no sign of her anywhere. Her camera bag was also missing. He stood in the door to her bedroom. The dress she’d worn last night hung from the closet door, the high-heeled sandals on the floor underneath. Other than that, there was little evidence of her presence.
An aching loneliness coiled in Ryan’s chest. Every minute he’d spent away from her had crawled like a sinner headed for a prayer meeting. Only a couple days of knowing her and he missed her at his side.
Ansel stretched against his leg, reaching up like a child asking to be picked up. Ryan leaned down to pet the cat. “What am I going to do, Ansel? I think I really blew it.”
Ever since she’d walked out of the cottage that morning, growing guilt and regret had gnawed at him. All day, everything he’d worked on reminded him of her, of the night before, of everything he’d never had and found with her.
He wanted that connection. He wanted to be needed by someone for himself, not for his job. He wanted to wake up in the morning in a home that he’d created with the woman he loved.
That Alex was that woman, not just a victim needing his help or a witness he needed to protect, had been abundantly clear. Once he forced himself to look he couldn’t escape the truth. Even before they’d made love, there had been a connection beyond anything he could rationalize away.
She’d given herself to him completely, and he’d insulted her, doubting her and denying his trust.
“At least I can be reasonably sure she hasn’t disappeared for good. As long as you’re still here, I might have a chance.” The cat flopped over onto its back in an unsubtle hint for a belly rub. Ryan complied. “I’m not quite sure how I’m going to fix things. I only know that this time, I can’t fail.”
He retrieved the coded notebook from its hiding place—another piece of business he should have been up front with her about. Giving it to her now would probably add another sin to the growing list.
Or…he could return it to the camera bag. If she hadn’t remembered it existed yet, she wouldn’t know it was missing.
The idea held some attraction, but it would be the coward’s way out. He needed to be honest with Alex. She deserved more, but it was all he could offer her.
He scooped up the bag from Kimo’s lab as he headed out the door for Jamie’s.
THE PATIO DOOR SILENTLY closed behind him as he entered the main house. Alex’s voice drew him toward the living room.
“My camera bag?” Panic laced through her words. An answering tension stabbed through him.
“In the kitchen, right where you left it,” Jamie answered. “What’s wrong?”
Ryan froze where he stood. Alex gave no indication of seeing him as she rushed past. Jamie stopped beside him, shaking his head in answer to Ryan’s silent question.
Alex dropped some papers onto the table. Her hands shook as she grabbed her camera bag and laid it on its side. She began unscrewing one of the footpads.
You’re damned for sure now, boyo. Ryan’s heart fell someplace down around his knees.
“Alex.” Jamie’s soft voice had no visible effect on her. “Speak to me, tell me what’s happening.”
“Memories started coming back.” She spared them a quick glance as she removed one pad and began on another. “Memories from three nights ago, when I went out with David.”
The second pad came off and she set to work on the last two simultaneously. The excitement and fear coursing through her were nearly palpable. “I still don’t remember everything. But I do remember he gave me something and told me to hide it. He didn’t want to know where. He only needed to know it was someplace safe.”
The final pads pulled free. Ryan wanted to stop her, tell her he already had the book, but it wouldn’t do any good until they cracked the code.
She looked up as she pried the bottom off. “Whatever it is, I put it in here. It was the only place I could think of.”
The bottom fell away from the bag, revealing the empty space.
She sank to a chair. Tears welled in her eyes and clogged her voice. “No.”
Ryan kneeled beside her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, cupping her face in his hand. Any lingering doubt about her knowledge of the book dissolved with her tears.
“It’s got to be there.” She looked at him finally. All of the pain and anguish in her eyes set off an echoing ache in his throat. “I didn’t just imagine it. I know I didn’t.”
“You didn’t, baby.”
He pulled the sandwich bag containing the notebook out of the lab bag and laid it in her lap.
She picked up the bag, turning it over and over in her hands. “You had it?”
He nodded.
“You found this—” She frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked from the bag to him. “Where? Where did you get this?”
“Right where you were looking. In the false bottom of the bag.”
She leaned back in the chair. “How long?”
The anger behind her words had the same effect as if she’d shoved him away. He sank back to sit on his heels. At the time, his actions had been appropriate. At least he’d thought so. “Since the first morning.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
He shook his head.
Pain darkened her eyes. “You hid it from me?”
“I know it looks like that, but—”
“I trusted you. All this time you’ve had something that might help me regain my memory, something that might help find David’s killer, and you kept it from me?”
“I know, baby.” He hung his head, unable to meet her accusing look. “I’m sorry.”
“What were you going to do with it? Were you ever even going to tell me you had it?” Her words ripped through him.
He’d failed her. He should have shown her the book as soon as he’d found it.
But he hadn’t. Added to his morning-after bad behavior…his own actions condemned him.
Nothing he could say would make up for his failure, but he had to try. “I thought it might give some lead to what was going on, what had happened to you.”
“Did it?”
He shook his head. “It’s in some kind of code. I was fixin’ to turn it over to the experts in Quantico. They’ll be able to figure it out, and then we can settle…” His words died in his throat.
She tore open the bag and pulled the book out. As she leafed through the pages, she read snippets of information.
Ryan stared at her, uncomprehending at first. The words broke through the confusion warring in his brain and began to make sense. “You know the code?”
She glared at him with icy gray eyes. “If you’d bothered to ask two days ago, I would have told you.”
“If you’d remembered.”
“I would have remembered. It’s as familiar to me as my camera. We made this code up, David and Justin and I, when we were kids, so we could play spy and pass secret notes to each other.”
“The two different handwritings?”
“This was Justin’s book. We found it among his things after he disappeared. He was investigating a ring of corrupt law-enforcement officers. It was a small group, but it included both police and FBI. After he was killed, David took up the battle.”
“With your help.”
“For all the good I did him.”
“You protected the evidence. You documented the meeting.” Ryan leaned toward her. Maybe there was a chance yet. Maybe he could redeem himself. “If you translate the code for me, I can finish it. I swear to you, if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find their killers for you.”
He dumped the remaining contents of the bag on the table. “Kimo sent the film and contact prints. Show me David’s killer.”
“He’s the one with the gun. That
should be easy enough to figure out, even for someone with vision as narrowed as yours.”
The dig hurt, but far less than he deserved. “I haven’t looked at the film.”
That got her to look at him. “Why not?”
“Because it’s yours, and it’s your choice whether or not I see it.”
Alex pulled the sealed envelopes across the table. He’d told the truth. None of the envelopes had been opened. Later, she would try figuring out what it might all mean. Right now, she needed to see the film.
She pried open the flap on the first packet. Several sheets of contacts and sleeved negatives slithered onto the table. She glanced at the images, pushed them aside and opened the next envelope.
The fourth envelope produced contents that held her attention. She reached for the loupe she’d brought out of the darkroom and tilted the contact sheet toward the light to see better. David’s image stared at her through the lens.
Words stuck in her throat as she gathered the contacts and film and stood.
Ryan rose with her. He would have followed her, she could see it in his eyes, but Jamie held him back.
The darkroom door closed behind her, sealing her away from Ryan and all the mixed-up emotions he stirred.
Printing Jamie’s photos had held the comfort of routine. She convinced herself this session would be no different as the dim red safety light washed over the workspace. The illusion held all through the setup, the focusing and paper selection, the test print. Right up until she took in the negative image projected on the stark white photographic paper.
David, empty hands raised in a futile effort to stop the inevitable. Her throat closed on her silent cry, same as it had that night.
The muzzle flash of the gun as the fatal shot was fired. Her chest tightened, keeping her heart from falling into a million pieces.
The face of the shooter. Her tears blurred the details.
She let the emotions swamp her for the few seconds it took to expose the paper. When the light went out, she stared through the darkness, battling the pain.
Everything fell to her now. The pictures she’d taken held the only hope of bringing David’s killer to justice. And Justin’s. The two were related, they had to be. The notebook would prove that.
She slipped the paper into the developer bath and waited for the image of her nightmare to appear.
Murder.
Mechanics took over as she moved the photo through each step then hung it to dry. She turned back to the enlarger, adjusted the framing, cropping in tighter, blowing up the image, pushing the limits of the film and her endurance.
Tears cooled her burning eyes. Somehow it all tied back to her. If she could remember, she could get Ryan to believe her. He’d help figure it out. He had to.
She gathered the damp prints and returned to the bright sunlit kitchen.
“The images are pretty grainy from being blown up so large.” She tossed the eight-by-tens on the table. “We could run them through a computer program, make it easier to identify the men.”
Ryan poked at the sheets, turning them to get a better look. “No need.” He almost spat the words. “They’re plenty clear.”
“You recognize them?” She rested her head in her hands, too exhausted to sit upright.
Pointing at one of the men he said, “Meet Special Agent Tim Pela, of the FBI’s Honolulu Field Office.”
“FBI?” Her stomach did a slow roll.
He nodded. “I met with him today so he could fill me in on all the evidence that seems to be piling up against David.”
“Then it’s my word against a federal agent. No one’s going to believe me, not once—” She took a shuddering breath. “With David unable to defend himself, there’s no one to stop him.”
“That’s what he’s thinking.”
“They know about me. They must.”
“Pela never mentioned you. My guess is he’s fixin’ to find you himself and tie up all the loose ends nice and neat.”
“You didn’t tell him about me?”
“No, I never got around to talking about what I was doing to keep busy. Besides which, I don’t figure who I have as a houseguest is any of ole Pela’s business.”
She studied Ryan. Clenched fists and a cold glitter in his eye radiated his anger. There was no mistaking the fact that he believed what he saw in the picture.
A little of her tension eased. The photo provided some backup to what she’d remembered, and he was on her side. For the moment.
Would he have been so quick to believe her if she’d told him everything she’d remembered?
“That boy was a bit too nervous for my taste. It suits me fine if he thinks I’m coming on the case completely cold. Far as he’s concerned, I don’t know any of the people involved, I don’t know you, I don’t know about you.”
“What about the other agents? There were a couple that David worked with on a regular basis. Surely one of them—”
“Pela kept me pretty isolated today. I haven’t met any of the other agents yet. A few were out on assignment, the rest Pela did his best to keep me away from. He claimed it was to protect David’s privacy, on the ‘slim chance’ that it was all a misunderstanding and David is actually innocent of any wrongdoing.”
“Do you think Pela was the one to search my house?”
“Hard to tell. It might have been someone else in the ring.”
“What about the man we followed from Kimo’s? We saw him at the lab twice. He might have made the connection between us. Do you think he’s FBI, too?”
“I don’t know, baby. I’m working on getting info on the locals and trying to track down the owner of that address we followed the guy to. All that will add more pieces to the puzzle.”
“But if he works for Pela, what if he’s made the connection between us?”
“I don’t think Pela’s the leader. He strikes me more as a soldier in this than a commander.”
“So we need him to take us to the head of the ring.” Hope began to bloom, and she leaned toward Ryan, excitement thrumming through her veins. “We can set him up, just like he’s trying to set up and discredit David.”
“What do you mean ‘we’?”
“We, as in you and me. You need me to translate the book.”
Ryan nodded slowly. “Yeah, I got that. But that’s the end of your involvement.”
“Not by a long shot.” She stood, confronting him. “They, whoever they are, know I have something. I’m the only one who can deliver it.”
“Oh, no. You are not going in harm’s way. I won’t allow it.”
“‘Allow.’ She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have any choice. It’s me or no one. You can’t do it yourself and until this is cleaned up, you don’t know who to trust.”
“I’ll know as soon as you translate that book for me.”
They stood across the table from each other, mirror-image poses with their hands on their hips and their feet braced apart.
Ryan looked the most intimidating, but she wasn’t going to give in to him. The risks were too high. “Without the codebook, you have nothing.”
“With the codebook, your life is in danger.”
“Not if they think there’s more to it.”
That got Ryan’s attention. “What else is there?”
“Nothing. But they don’t need to know that, do they? I give them a partial of the book, but make it clear there’s more. They won’t dare hurt me until they’re certain they have everything that might be incriminating to them. Especially if they think it’s possible the entire translation could go out in the open.”
“I shouldn’t involve a civilian. That sort of thing never ends well.”
He was weakening, she could tell. “I’m already involved. Face it, Ryan. No matter which way you try to come at this, you need me.”
HE NEEDED HER ALL RIGHT. But not out in the field where she could get killed.
She’d been busy writing out a translation of the book all evening, mak
ing a list of people involved, payments, dates, information transferred. With each name she added, the scope of what they were looking at grew. As it stood, the situation was well beyond what he could handle on his own.
He needed reinforcements, but they would have to be from the mainland. He couldn’t risk any of the local agents, or anyone from the police.
He checked his watch. It was 8 p.m. Hawaiian standard time, which made it 2 a.m. on the East Coast. Jacquelyn wouldn’t be in the office for another six, maybe seven hours. Making it three in the morning on Oahu.
No problem there. He’d set the alarm and start calling until she got in. He’d arrange with her for the right people to be sent. Then there’d be another delay while she assembled the team and they were transported.
Any way he looked at it, it’d be a couple days before they would have all the players in place. He scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to eradicate the impatience pushing him to take action now.
Planning the course of action in any detail would be impossible until the team arrived. He couldn’t help Alex with the translation. There was nothing for him to do.
He looked at Alex, hunched over the table in the guest cottage kitchen. The instant they’d gotten back, she’d started transcribing. She paused in her writing to shake out her hand.
Correction. There was one thing he could do.
“That’s enough for now, sugar.” He crossed the room and took the pen from her resistant grip. “I don’t know about you, but I’m near to starving.”
“Have some cookies.” She grabbed the pen from his hand.
“Alex, you’ve been working on that for hours now, and you need to take a break.”
“It’s only been two hours and twenty-three minutes. I’m barely started.”
“Baby—” Ryan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then crouched beside her chair. “How long is it going to take you to transcribe that entire book?”
“I’d be a lot further if I’d started two days ago.”
He didn’t flinch from her anger.
She leafed through what she’d completed and her shoulders sagged. “It’s taking longer than I thought it would. I’ll probably need a couple days to do the whole thing. Maybe more, depending on how often I’m interrupted. But I’m getting faster as I go along, so it could be less.”
Memory Reload Page 17