Only A Memory Away

by Madeline St. Claire

  Judd scowled as Rossini punched the elevator button to take them to the first floor. Beneficial as the objectivity was, it was also distinctly ominous. How had Rossini put it? “Maxwell, you’re the coolest damn murderer I’ve ever met.”

  The car arrived with a ping, and Rossini followed him in. Had this emotional disassociation helped him kill his victims? Was the amnesia just one further step in a pathological separation process that had enabled him to commit unspeakable crimes? Perhaps he’d been killing and temporarily forgetting for years, only this time the memory loss had lasted for more than a few hours and drawn him to the attention of the authorities. When he began to regain his memory, would he recall other murders, or had he blocked those out forever? For a moment, he considered which would be worse. To live with the full, horrible knowledge of one’s crimes, and accept one’s execution as just punishment. Or to face the death chamber unsure if one deserved it or was innocent, to die having recalled nothing more than garbled, unreliable dreams.

  The elevator arrived in the reception area of the sheriff’s office. Without a word, Judd stepped out, and Rossini hit a button to return upstairs. They had said everything they had to say to one another for now. Judd had no doubt they’d be seeing each other again soon enough.

  The uniformed clerk at the counter spoke to Judd. “Mr. Maxwell? There’s someone waiting for you in the cafeteria.” The young man gestured through the glass double doors that led to the rest of the hall of justice. “Down the main corridor, on the left.”

  Judd silently pushed through the cafeteria door. She was sitting at a round table, her back turned three-quarters from him, staring dully at the coffee machines, a paper cup curled in her right hand. She was clearly exhausted, her dress wrinkled, as though she’d slept in it.

  He wondered with annoyance how Karen could be so lovely when she was so disheveled. No makeup, not even lipstick. Her hair was tousled and needed a good brushing. But he was as drawn to her now as he would have been were she dressed in silk and coiffed like a movie star.

  He could feel his pulse quicken. He wanted to bend over her from behind, push aside her russet hair and taste the soft, sensitive spot he’d found beneath her ear. He wanted to lift her to her feet and press her hips against the table, run his hands around her rib cage. He wanted to unbutton the front of her dress and kiss her ripe, warm breasts, forget who he was and where they were.

  It was getting difficult to breathe. “Karen?” he said as he bent toward her.

  Karen started and her head whipped around. He loomed just inches above her, fully aware that the lights above them would make a dark silhouette of his torso. He let his expression go icy as he stared at her.

  “If you want to stay alive,” he hissed, “you’ll get the hell out of here.”

  Karen turned back to the table and cleared her throat. “I, ah, brought your car. You left the key in the ignition. Would you like a cup of coffee before we go?” Her hand shook as she pulled her purse toward her and began searching for some change.

  “What I want is for you to disappear.”

  Judd ground his teeth. Karen wasn’t only beautiful and bighearted, but she was too damn smart, as well. Instead of trailing him to Granite City in her own car, which would have been the natural thing to do, she’d driven his. She knew he would have hitched a ride back to Silver Creek to get his car, but that he wouldn’t leave her here to do the same. Like it or not, he was stuck driving her home.

  “Are you hungry? I can’t believe they kept you in there this long.”

  Fatigue got the best of him. He decided to delay sparring with her temporarily, and sat down as he spoke. “Without arresting me, you mean? They were mad as could be at having to let me go, but apparently the D.A. needs just one more shred of evidence before they can legally hold me.”

  “I know.”

  Judd was mesmerized by the swing of her hips as Karen maneuvered out of her seat and stepped to the coffee machine. “Lieutenant Rossini found out I was here and came out to talk to me, about an hour ago. He tried to convince me to have nothing further to do with you.” Her gaze briefly, defiantly, met his as she handed him the cup of black coffee. “I told him to mind his own business.”

  He wanted like anything to grin, but he didn’t allow the signal of approval to reach his face. Just being in the same room with her was too comforting by half; before he knew it, she’d gotten him feeling more relaxed, letting his guard down, tempting him to converse with her normally. He finished the coffee in one last, scalding swallow, crumpled the cup in his hand and hammered it like a fastball into a trash can across the room. The hour’s ride to Silver Creek, sitting inches from her in the front seat, was going to be like a trip to hell.

  KAREN WAS TRYING to convince him he was no psychopath as Judd swung the Chevy onto Highway 18. Apparently she’d taken a course in abnormal psychology and had watched a few documentaries on serial killers. So now she was an expert!

  “Damn it, Karen.” He was finished restraining himself. It was time to make her wake up. “I know I didn’t fit the profile of a psychopath in college, according to the little your uncle was able to dig up. But don’t you see, by the time I graduated my life was going downhill, and who knows what I’ve been through in the ten years since then! This amnesia could be only a temporary reprieve from inner demons you can’t even imagine.

  “Remember when I told you I have a strong distrust of other people, that I somehow felt I hadn’t always been this way? That paranoia could be just a hint of the latent, hostile, antisocial feelings that have grown up over the years. In plain English, I could be very sick.”

  Karen started to protest, but he cut her off with a hatchetlike motion. “Is it worth risking your life that I’m not a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? That I won’t turn on you when my memories surface? It’s what the police are scared to death of. Rossini warned me he’d personally hunt me down and put a bullet through me if I lay a finger on you.”

  Karen eyed him with grave concern, unable to form a response. His voice, let alone the words, were so bitter, his countenance contorted with loathing for himself. Yet, tortured as he was, his first concern was not for himself, but for her.

  She had never felt more drawn to him than she did at this moment. It was terrible to see him demoralized like this, yet there was something honorable and magnificent in his self-condemnation. Had he reacted more calmly to the horrific accusations of the police, or begun to make even the smallest excuse to justify his alleged acts, she would have instantly lost all love for him. Instead, she felt a tremendous respect for Judd Maxwell the man, and a new certainty in his innocence.

  “I’m a drifter, Karen, a bum who can’t even keep a full-time job.” The ragged breath he took seemed to fuel the fire in his eyes. “I never told you this, but the day I got my car back, the Department of Motor Vehicles let me know I have driver’s licenses in California, Nevada, Oregon and Washington. What kind of person lives in four states in ten years? I’ll tell you—someone on the run. The detectives asked me a hell of a lot of questions about those other residences. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re linking me to a series of similar killings in little towns all over the west”

  Karen set her lips in a line and folded her arms tightly.

  “And that day at your uncle’s, when he had me fire his gun—you didn’t realize I was faking it, but I knew how to use that piece. I could have nailed the target blindfolded, but I wanted to keep it a secret from you.”

  Karen closed her eyes, trying to shut out Judd’s unbearable pain, but the picture of his tortured face remained in her mind. She considered telling him she knew about his familiarity with firearms, that her uncle had suspected him of deliberately missing the target, and that despite that, Ed believed him innocent. But she doubted that would reassure Judd.

  For the second time that day, tears threatened to well up. She wanted desperately to say something that would ease his self-doubts, anything that would encourage him to believe in himself the way
she believed in him. But she sensed intuitively that if she argued with him any longer, he might explode. She’d be a fool to push him any further.

  HE’D GIVEN HER more than enough to frighten her. Enough hard, chilling facts to fuel her nightmares for months to come. As they rode silently the rest of the way to Karen’s house, Judd became sure he’d reached his objective and scared her out of his life forever.

  He couldn’t avoid the thought that these were perhaps the last minutes they would spend together. He clamped down on the maudlin reflection. He couldn’t afford weakness in any form, whether it be sentimentality, or true love, or regret.

  He tested her as they pulled up to her house; she wouldn’t meet his gaze, looked anxiously away. The tension was thick as she walked ahead of him to the front door and let them in. He watched her scramble for the electric switch to avoid being caught in the dark with him.

  “You’d better go to your room, Karen,” he told her back, “and lock the door.” He thought he saw her shoulders shiver, could feel her fear as she almost ran to the back of the house.

  He stood immobile in the living room, his chest so tight he had to fight to inhale. Impatiently he shoved a hand through his hair, pushing back the darkness that fell over his sight as he stared at the hallway she’d fled down. He thought this afternoon that he’d conquered his feelings for her.

  Close up the wound, Maxwell, he told himself, you’re bleeding all over the place! She’s just a woman. You can still manage to walk, and eat, and drink and talk without her. They don’t require much of you where you’re going—to prison. You can still maintain the forms of living.

  If you ever find another reason to.

  Slowly the familiar, blessed numbness returned to him. Mechanically he grabbed his already packed suitcase. The sheriff’s boys had made a mess of things when they searched his possessions. He stuffed a shirtsleeve back in so he could close the zipper. His pet cockatiel, awakened by his return, whistled imploringly from its cage. Judd barely heard.

  He tried vaguely to remember if he’d packed his shaving kit in the suitcase. He didn’t really care about it, but he didn’t want to leave any of his belongings behind for Karen to deal with. He glanced down as he set the case on the floor, and heard Karen quietly padding into the room.

  What could she possibly want with him now? Was she about to deliver some incredibly misplaced apology for not being able to help him?

  He looked up to find her standing, uncertainly, perhaps ten feet from him. The lovely sight of her transfixed him. She’d changed into a pink cotton nightgown and matching robe. The robe was open in the front, the tie string hanging free. The matching full-length gown hung straight below the swell of her breasts, demurely hiding her legs, but the neckline was low, exposing even more of her creamy flesh through a cutwork motif.

  He was flushed with an almost uncontrollable desire to push the wrap back off her shoulders, to press his hands through the thin cloth and fondle her breasts. Already he was growing stiff for her, a pulse throbbing against his fly. Devil take him, his brutish reaction was purely unintentional on her part, he was sure. She couldn’t possibly know how sexy she was.

  “Judd,” she said with a tremulous smile. She was like a shy puppy, waiting for a sign of friendship to approach him.

  She was so achingly sweet, so innocent. Her femininity called up every instinct within him to protect her. He gritted his teeth. He would protect her, from everything and everyone—especially from himself.

  “Karen, go back to your room, now.”

  But instead of obeying him, she took a tentative step forward. Her smooth, maidenly fingers came up to the opening in her robe, began to delicately draw the fabric down her arms.

  “No!” He grasped her hands in his own rough paws, crushing her fragile bones as he attempted to stop her, but when he released her hands, the robe slipped from her arms to the floor.

  He was horrified. What did she think she was doing? Offering herself? Like a sacrificial virgin to a heathen god? She couldn’t possibly know how incredibly aroused he was. Or if she did, why didn’t she fear that he might take her by force? Didn’t she realize that the release of his sexual energy might be the very catalyst to unleash the hidden demons within him? That the act of loving her could trigger a sick desire to kill her? Couldn’t she sense that making love with him would be wildly dangerous?

  He wanted her so badly now, it was like a destructive force, an impulse to ravage her so strong it felt like madness. He swung away from her, fists flexing at his sides, nails digging into his palms. Unreasoning rage grew within him, flowed like molten lava into his limbs. As in his nightmares, he could feel only the anger that consumed him so completely—though he couldn’t fathom where it came from, couldn’t try to understand it. He only knew what he must do. He must hurt her, physically.

  Karen waited tensely as she watched Judd’s stooped back, his taut shoulders. A strange mixture of attraction and fear tickled at her as she tried to reassure herself. She guessed he was feeling unworthy of her, struggling with his highly developed conscience. At least, that was what she hoped…He’d never seemed quite so formidable as he did now, his tremendous strength evident in the bulging back muscles beneath the stressed fabric of his jacket.

  He inhaled sharply, and she thought she heard his breath tremble as he released it. Thank goodness, he was coming around, softening toward her, and himself! But when he spun to face her, she knew she was wrong. There was no vulnerability in his countenance, only murderous rage.

  He hurtled toward her, right arm raised above his head at a ghastly angle, teeth bared like a wolf’s. With a cry, she turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the blow.

  She felt the heat of his chest halt inches from her face, the heaving respiration above her ear, but he didn’t touch her.

  “Come on,” she quavered, then the strength of her own pent-up tension charged her voice. “Hit me, Judd. Do it now, damn you. If you can do it, show me!”

  But nothing happened.

  Cautiously Karen opened her eyes.

  Judd gradually lowered his arm like a broken javelin. Sweat covered his forehead and inched toward his beard. Deep lines scarred his cheeks, and tears of bewilderment moistened his eyelashes. He looked like a man who had just failed to save a child from the wheels of a speeding truck.

  “You see,” she said, tears in her voice, “you couldn’t do it, could you?”

  He stared without comprehension at her.

  “You couldn’t do it, could you, Judd?” She reached up and cupped his bearded jaw in her palm. “Tell me the truth. Not all the demons in hell could make you hurt me.”

  “No,” he said bitterly, “they couldn’t”

  Joy suffused her being. “Don’t you see! I knew you wouldn’t harm me. I knew you couldn’t.” She fell into his arms.

  “But Karen—”

  “I had to show you, darling. That’s why I told you to hit me, to make you see you’re not a monster.”

  The import of her words registered somewhere within his mind, but on the surface, Judd wasn’t listening. The dusty, rose-petal smell of her hair was intoxicating to him. The pressure of her soft, voluptuous body against his pushed aside all thought but the desire to utterly consume her, to taste and touch and command every part of her.

  Her earnest expression sought his. “I believe in you, Judd, darling. No matter what, I’m going to stand by you.”

  Her words finally broke through then, their warmth finding a way to his soul. As the revelation struck him, he comprehended what she’d done, what she’d succeeded in proving to him.

  With a mighty roar, the dam of reserve broke in his heart and all his love and passion for her burst forth. Like a man reprieved from a death sentence, he hungrily, joyously kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids. All he knew was, she was pliant in his arms, yielding as he ran his hands over her exquisite back and down to her bottom, marveling at her soft curves, trailing kisses to the sweet flesh
at the line of her nightdress.

  The impulse to rip the gown off stopped him. With great effort, he banked his desire enough to pull back and search her.

  “I love you, Karen,” he said solemnly, “and I want to make love to you.”

  “I feel the same way, Judd.” There was a modest tremor in her voice, but he couldn’t mistake the dusky film of desire in her eyes. It excited and enchanted him. On impulse he bent and swept her off her feet. She felt light as a fairy queen as she clung to him, her silken head nesting below his chin. Glory, he wanted to shout! She made him feel strong as ten men.

  He kicked aside the robe, strode to her bedroom and across to her bed, then hesitated over the white eyelet comforter with her delicious weight in his arms. She was inexperienced, and he mustn’t rush her. It didn’t feel humanly possible to stop now, but he would. He pivoted from the bed, set her down carefully on her feet.

  Her emerald eyes shone trustingly up at him as a smile trembled on her lips. She seemed to be willing him to take her, to teach her what love was. It was an awesome responsibility…He must be gentle as a man could be, mustn’t frighten her or bruise her fragile feminine loveliness. She was so precious to him—he was almost afraid to begin, and unsure how. His hands came up reflexively to touch her hair. He buried his fingers in the rich umber, arranged the tresses over her shoulders and watched with fascination how the crushed curls sprang back when he released them.

  Karen closed her eyes, her mind finally at peace as Judd stroked her hair. It was blissful to be released from all worries about his former life. The details of his past no longer mattered to her, couldn’t matter, because she’d seen the essence of his character. He was every inch the man she’d waited so long for, and now knew she loved—principled, self-sacrificing, brave and coolheaded in the face of danger. A man who had proved he could weather the deepest trials by bending but never breaking or compromising his honor. Someone she could willingly love, honor and cherish for the rest of her life.