Only A Memory Away

by Madeline St. Claire

  On the way, she passed the cockatiel’s cage, and noticed what she’d overlooked when she first came in, that the big black cover was over the cage.

  “Trouble?” she said. “Hey, Trouble.” She’d been in a daze at the time, but she remembered seeing Judd remove the cover to feed the parrot when she left this morning. There was no answering chirp from inside the cage—poor bird had probably gone deaf from the speakers only a few feet away.

  Karen stepped into the vacant bathroom and was instantly notified that Judd had been there before her. A big navy plaid towel and its twin washcloth hung to dry over the shower curtain rod. A brown leather shaving kit sat at the back of the vanity. She remembered Judd’s elegant wooden toothbrush from his apartment, and wondered if it was tucked inside.

  The pungent citrus smell of his cologne hung in the air. After breathing it a few moments, she felt dizzy, and told herself it must be the heat and lingering humidity from the shower. She turned on the sink tap full force and waited for the water to get cold.

  It felt strange, seeing his precisely folded hand towel next to her faded pink one, jammed carelessly over the bar. Judd’s elegant toiletries were incongruous next to the spotted water glass that held her lumpy tube of toothpaste and dime-store toothbrush.

  It hadn’t struck her until this moment how different Judd Maxwell was from her, how alien. She’d thought she instinctively understood him, that they were on the same wavelength, but how well could she expect to understand someone who spent money on luxury items without even bringing in a full-time salary?

  To her working-class mind, such priorities were foolish, even wrongheaded.

  She leaned over and splashed cold water on her face, then wiped the water from her eyes. Those beautiful towels had delighted her with their lush softness when she first used them in Judd’s apartment. She reached out and hesitantly tested the terry cloth between thumb and forefinger. It still felt the same. Instinctively she reached for her own towel.

  It was time to draw back, she decided. She’d jumped into a romantic relationship with Judd without really knowing who he was, and it had been a mistake to go so fast. She needed to wait until his memory came back, to find out who he really was, before deciding if it was wise to get close to him.

  She looked in the mirror. A few hairs had come lose from her ponytail, and the style made her face look fuller. A cuh-chug sounded from the piping in the wall, startling her for a moment; it was the washing machine starting in the garage. Karen left her hair the way it was.

  The familiar odor of automotive oil greeted her as she pushed open the connecting door to the garage. Judd was bent over at the waist, studying the dials on her clothes dryer. He’d changed into a fresh pair of khaki shorts and a body-clinging white tank top that drew Karen’s eyes to his torso. His muscles were well-defined like a bodybuilder’s, the skin tanned and smooth over the bulge of his biceps, triceps and the undulating contours of his back. His hair was slicked back and his face flushed, as though he’d been exercising. She vaguely remembered the weight training equipment from his apartment, and wondered if he had been using it today. Altogether he presented a picture of raw, powerful masculinity that was rather intimidating.

  “Hi,” she said. As he turned to her, she noticed the firm outline of his nipples beneath the thin cotton knit She’d never been tempted to look at that part of a man’s anatomy, but now she had to force herself not to stare. What was wrong with her?

  “Hi.” He adjusted a knob and pulled it out; the dryer started. He flashed her a smile of straight, strong teeth. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I washed some of my stuff.”

  A pile of her own things sat on the washer where she’d dumped them this morning. A pair of her silky cream panties was clearly visible on the top, her pink cotton nightgown beneath it.

  “No, ah, I don’t mind at all,” she said. He’d undoubtedly pressed her clothes down with his hands to get to the washer controls. With no one to see, she pictured him looking through her things, picking up her skimpy lingerie and running his fingers over the satiny fabric with a dark, hot look in his half-closed eyes.

  The man was smiling at her. He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable that she knew he’d come in contact with her private things, as though it was understood between them he now had…rights over her.

  Karen swallowed. She’d invited this intimacy; it was going to be harder to backpedal than she’d imagined. If she started holding him at arm’s length, he’d surely notice and wonder why. And her years of training had taught her to never treat a client in any way that would hurt his feelings or undermine his well-being-during a stressful period, unless she had an absolutely concrete reason for doing so.

  She backed through the door, away from the scene of her dilemma, and he followed, telling her how he’d gone for a run and taken a look at the neighborhood.

  Karen barely listened as they drifted into the living room. Without thinking, she reached out to pick at the cover of the cockatiel’s cage.

  “Don’t do that!” Judd said. “He was driving me crazy this morning.”

  Karen jerked back her hand. “Was he being noisy?”

  “I couldn’t shut him up.” He looked really annoyed.

  Karen glanced doubtfully at the cover—the cocky little bird was absolutely silent now. It was getting warm in here, and it must be suffocating under that hood. “You said you wanted to go out—” she began, touching the cover again.

  “No, leave it on.” He caught her wrist. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I think he’s upset, being in a new place like this. It’ll help calm him down if we leave him like that.”

  “All…all right.” Judd had only grabbed her for a second, but an excess of emotion had fired in his eyes. Was it anger, at her, at the bird? Or fear? She bent close to the cage to pick a small gray feather from the carpet, and strained her ears for a flutter or some sound from inside. First her cat, Toby, had disappeared…

  “I’ve made some sandwiches,” he said. “Change into your shorts while I pack the car. I’d like to take a hike. The woods must be beautiful outside town.”

  Chapter Eight

  Karen hugged the phone to her ear and prayed for her uncle to pick it up. Four rings…five. If Uncle Ed was out, why wasn’t his answering machine coming on?

  “Karen.”

  She jumped as a hand grasped her shoulder.

  “Let’s go, you can call your friend later.”

  “But I promised—”

  “We’ll be back soon, and I’ve waited all morning.” He plucked the receiver from her hand and replaced it. Still grasping her shoulder, he steered her toward the front door.

  She’d told herself she wouldn’t go with him if she couldn’t reach her uncle or another friend. She wanted Judd to know that someone was aware of his plans—as a kind of subtle insurance. But it was clear if she backed out now, there would be an argument with him, here in the house, where they were more alone than they would be out on the road.

  As Judd helped her into his car, she tried to laugh off the doubts that had produced her growing fear, but she couldn’t Judd slid in beside her and pulled his sunglasses from the visor.

  He drove smoothly with one hand, turning the wheel with a flattened palm at the first right turn, easing to a whisper-soft stop at the signs. From the clunky outward appearance of the old car, she had expected it to drive like a tank, but there were no rattles or squeaks, and she couldn’t even hear the engine running.

  Was the owner, like his car, far from what he appeared? From the corner of her eye, she saw that his face had gone blank. Casting back in her thoughts, she saw Judd impatient, and angry, and confused But now the face, bisected by wraparound glasses, heavily bearded below, hair tight to his skull and gleaming above, was completely expressionless. It was impossible to tell if Judd was feeling pleasure, or pain, or nothingness. Looking for a sign of tension, she observed that even the cords in his muscular neck were still, almost as if he’d gone into a trance.
/>   She squirmed as they neared downtown. If he turned onto Main Street, it would run right into the highway that would take them out of town.

  “Judd.” He didn’t answer. “Judd.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t we go out to Silver Lake?”

  “Which way is it?”.

  “Stay on this street and cross Main. I’ll, ah, tell you when to turn.”

  She relaxed a bit as he followed her directions to the popular lake, out through the streets on the east side of town and past the old mill race. It was a short drive up a gravel road to the parking lot.

  Judd easily pushed open the heavy driver’s side door, but kept his right foot on the running board as he surveyed the view. Silver Lake sat in a crotch between the mountains, surrounded by steep, thickly forested slopes. A dirt fire road circled the water; it being late summer and the reservoir low, there was a gentle slope down to the surface of the lake. Men and women with fishing poles dotted the bank wherever a clump of trees afforded shade.

  “There are a lot of people out here,” he remarked.

  “Yes,” Karen said, feigning surprise. As though she hadn’t chosen this spot for just that reason. Then, before he could suggest they drive elsewhere, she said, “Let’s go,” and started walking.

  She made sure to keep a polite distance from him as they started around the lake. He wasn’t walking fast, but she had to push herself to keep up with the ground-eating strides of his long, sinewy legs. She kept her hand occupied shading her eyes from the sun, but he made no move to take her hand or put his arm around her shoulders.

  A pair of mountain bikers whizzed past them, shouting a conversation at one another. Then came a lone woman jogger wearing a headset. It was too hot. Karen wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and wondered how anyone could exercise on a day like this without getting sunstroke.

  Judd’s ongoing silence was becoming unnerving. He didn’t pause at any of the viewpoints or break his mechanical pace, ignoring the scenery and fresh air he’d claimed he wanted. What thoughts were brewing behind the passive face? she wondered. It was as though he’d withdrawn to some interior, secret war room where he was thinking, planning…what?

  Or was her overwrought imagination making all this up? The thought brought a surge of relief, but she wasn’t sure what to think. She’d probably feel terribly sheepish later, remembering how she’d gotten herself worked up over nothing!

  She resolved to quiet her runaway fears by focusing instead on her physical senses. The air smelled of dust and algae, reminding her of the old rope swing and the summer afternoons she’d spent here as a child, fishing for crayfish with a string and a piece of hard salami. She tried to recreate the scene in her mind, but instead, the crazy thought flashed on her that this might be the last time she ever saw this familiar spot. Despite the heat, she shivered.

  She had grown tired of shading her eyes and, without thinking, she’d lowered her arm. Judd unexpectedly moved closer, and before she knew what he was doing, he silently seized her hand. As though she’d grasped a tiger by the tail, Karen fancied she could feel the pent-up strength of every well-honed muscle in Judd’s body.

  His palm was strangely dry, the fingers cool, while Karen felt a film of perspiration everywhere on her own skin. They’d reached the far side of the lake, where no fishermen had bothered to venture. The rocky shore was deserted. She was afraid to move her hand in his; she wondered if it was trembling. She kept her eyes on the bank, feverishly telling herself she was being silly. An old severed fish head lay in the dust, a hook and broken line embedded in its jaw. Flies buzzed around it.

  She had to speak, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “You’re awfully quiet”

  “Just trying to enjoy the moment Why don’t you relax? There’s a trail here, let’s take it.”

  The foot trail he pointed to was a break in the trees and shrubbery, leading straight up the mountain.

  “I’d rather—let’s stay by the lake,” she said, searching blindly for an excuse. “It’s flatter.”

  “No, we’ll get a better workout on the slope.” He let go of her hand and gave her an encouraging push between the shoulder blades, up the trail ahead of him.

  She had to move faster, or allow his hand to remain on her back. She didn’t want that. She forged ahead, staying just out of his reach. The trail was narrow, the undergrowth dense on either side; there was nowhere to go but up. The warning sounds in her head were at full volume now—she knew it was a terrible mistake going up here with him, but he was quicker and in better shape than she was, and he was right behind her.

  She wasn’t used to this kind of exercise. Her breath started coming hard; she wondered how long she could keep going on this vertical grade. Twigs brushed against her bare legs, leaving scratches, but she dared not slacken the pace to see if she was bleeding. Ahead the winter rains had washed out the trail, leaving a rocky depression. She spotted a worn foothold and put her toe in it, grasped an exposed tree root to haul herself up, then Judd’s hands were on her again, helping her the last bit of the way. She tried to get a few steps farther ahead of him as he negotiated the trouble spot behind her, but in two powerful steps he’d caught up with her.

  The trail suddenly flattened and followed the contour of the mountain. Her thigh muscles gratefully relaxed and went rather numb. Her heart was pounding, and she noticed for the first time her throat had gone dry and parched. The trail widened slightly, and there was a view of the lake spread below them. The sun was shining on the water.

  “You need a rest, let’s stop here,” Judd said.

  Out of exhaustion more than obedience, she stepped off the trail, into the shade of the trees on the upside bank, then turned to face him. A lock of hair had fallen over his sweaty forehead, but he wasn’t even breathing fast.

  “This is a romantic spot, don’t you think?” He looked around them, gesturing with widespread hands. His tone was strange, the movement, theatrical. “Yes, it’s just perfect for what I want.”

  Karen felt the blood drain from her face and neck. He moved toward her, and she backed away. “What do you want?” she quavered, sure now she knew, afraid to hear the deadly answer.

  Dark brows rose above his sunglasses. “Why, simply to be alone with you, of course.”

  Karen’s back bumped against a hollow tree trunk. He’d been cool and collected when they started up the trail, but she could smell his masculine aroma now, see the wet stain on his tank top where his broad chest cleft in two.

  “Isn’t that what a man usually wants, when he’s with a beautiful woman? A little privacy, to see if he can steal a kiss.”

  Was he gently teasing her, or mocking her? He braced an arm over her head, effectively caging her against the tree, and lowered his head to hers.

  Even in the midst of her terror, Karen felt a thrumming, primeval pull in her chest, drawing her to him. Her inability to control her response to him excited her even as it increased her fear.

  Slowly, inexorably he lowered his mouth to hers. She kept from responding to him, but didn’t try to pull away, either.

  To her surprise, his kiss wasn’t rough, but gentle; they were the lips she remembered from last night, tender and loving.

  As she eased away from the tree trunk, he put his arms around her, the naked flesh of those incredibly virile biceps pressing against her own bare skin. Unable to resist, she moved her trembling hands to rest on his upper arms, felt the massive tautness of his muscles.

  Judd continued lightly kissing her as he began to deftly rub her rib cage. The gently erotic message seemed to melt away her shyness and inhibitions. Like a feline stretching luxuriously at a post, she reached up around his neck and leaned into him. His palms softly kneaded the sides of her breasts through her T-shirt and bra, the probing thumbs finding and circling her awakened nipples through the lightweight fabric. A flame ignited inside her and burned down from her chest, through her belly, into the deepest, most womanly part of her. />
  But the voice of her fearful subconscious had not been completely silenced. It whimpered and whined beneath the surface, then broke through with words in her conscious mind. This is madness! If he turns on you, you’ll have no warning. Will you let him make love to you, and kill you?

  A pictured floated into her mind of herself lying half-clothed off the trail with her neck neatly broken, Detective Rossini saying, Strange, there are no signs of a struggle.

  She withdrew her arms and squirmed to the side, the rough bark of the tree tearing at her top.

  She was close enough now to discern his eyes behind the sunglasses. They’d been closed as he caressed her, but now he opened them. “What’s wrong?”

  Her receptive response to his embrace had one benefit; he wasn’t suspicious yet.

  If she acted naturally, didn’t alert him to her fears, perhaps she could get away.

  “I, ah, it’s your beard. I’m sorry, but it’s scratching my face something awful.” She tried to look embarrassed, to smile apologetically. “You, ah, said you were going to shave it off this morning.”

  His left arm resumed its guard post over her head. Then he picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it in his fingers. “I didn’t get rid of the beard, because I knew how much you wanted me to keep it”

  He was telling her he knew her thoughts! Karen’s blood ran cold. Had he been sensing her emotions all day, planning to bring her to just this spot, because she knew he was the murderer? Before she had time to think anymore, he exploded.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t want to kiss me because of the beard! I can read your mind, you see. You want me, but at the same time, you’re scared to death. You’ve mulled everything over and decided I had something to do with killing Marlene Hall.”