Memories After Midnight

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  “What makes you think there were two?”

  “There was evidence that two men ransacked my old condo. Since I can’t imagine you viewed it as a coincidence, it stands to reason they were also the ones who mugged me in the airport parking lot,” she pointed out. “Did the evidence your technicians gathered at the condo yield anything useful?”

  “We’re still looking into it,” he replied. “Unfortunately, it’s not as quick a process as they show it on TV. Plus, I’m sure you can understand that we can’t share certain aspects of an ongoing case even to ease the victim’s peace of mind.”

  She tamped down her frustration that he wasn’t going to share any findings with her. This had to do with her life, dammit, not his!

  “Then what can you tell me, Detective?” she asked, resisting the urge to snarl at the man.

  “I’m sure what I’d tell you is what you already know. Perhaps you can tell me what happened last night?” he asked quietly.

  She thought back. “Dylan and I heard a woman screaming. He immediately left my condo and told me to call 911, then he went to investigate. The woman living in my former condo was having a heart attack.” She winced as she remembered what she’d come upon when she followed Dylan. She had to take a deep breath before she could continue. She realized that Alan Whitmire was effective in interrogation. He had a quiet yet relentless way about him as he made sure she relayed all the information she recalled from that day. “Were you able to speak with Mrs. Bridger and find out anything from her?”

  He shook his head. “She’s in critical condition. The doctor doesn’t know when, if ever, we’ll be able to talk to her.”

  Alex felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach. ‘Did they say she might die?” Her voice broke.

  “The doctor doesn’t know.”

  With a knock on the door, Dylan walked in and dropped a sheaf of papers onto the table in front of Detective Whitmire. “Thought you might like to read this.” He took the chair to Alex’s left, turned it around and sat down with his arms resting along the back. He looked from one to the other. “Did I miss anything?”

  Detective Whitmire looked more irritated than welcoming to his colleague. “I would think Detective Dante would need to catch you up on the work you have had to abandon,” he said stiffly.

  “She’s doing fine.” Dylan’s smile just grew wider. “Anything from the crime-scene techs yet?”

  “No.” The man’s voice grew more stilted as he first skimmed Dylan’s report then looked from Dylan to Alex. “We learned that Mrs. Bridger’s cleaning service was in that morning.” He turned to Alex and delivered unexpected news. “It’s the same service you use, in fact. It also appears some items were indeed taken. Mrs. Bridger’s daughter told us that her diamond wedding set and an emerald-and-diamond bracelet were taken. The bracelet was a fortieth wedding anniversary present from her husband. She wore it always. I’ve added robbery to the charges.”

  Dylan shook his head. “You’ve got an awesome recovery rate, Whitmire. You’ll get the jewelry back.”

  The man looked surprised by Dylan’s words. “I intend to. I was just hoping that Ms. Spencer had been able to come up with some new information for me. Us,” he quickly amended.

  “I would love nothing more than to give you an exact description of the assailants,” she said. “Especially since you all have been very kind in expediting the tests so I could receive my property back in such a timely manner.” She smiled warmly at him. “I really appreciate it.”

  The taciturn detective thawed under the force of her warm smile and even seemed to relax.

  “It was the least we could do after everything you had been through,” he said.

  Alex stood up and picked up her purse. “I’m just sorry that I can’t help you more, Detective Whitmire.”

  The man was clearly amazed that she was taking the initiative in ending the interview, not him. He quickly recovered as he pocketed his pen and picked up his legal pad. “We’ll be checking with anyone who might handle jewelry of that nature. And naturally, if anything comes up we’ll be in touch. If anything comes to mind will you contact me immediately?”

  “Of course.” She held out her hand. “As I’ve told Detective Parker, I don’t wish anyone else to go through what I did.”

  “Yes, well…” Detective Whitmire accepted her hand then looked at Dylan. “Unfortunately, with no leads we won’t be able to do much more on your case. All we can do is pursue any leads we find from the breakin at Mrs. Bridger’s.”

  “So this is it? First you tell me you can’t tell me anything about my case because it is ongoing. Now you’re saying you’re no longer investigating it. Which means you can release to me anything you’ve found so far,” she persisted.

  Detective Whitmire shrugged apologetically. “We don’t release anything on current cases, Ms. Spencer. I’m sure you can understand that without much in the way of concrete evidence our hands are tied. Naturally, if anything new comes up, we will check it out, but…” His voice trailed off as if he knew there was little he could do.

  “Those men are still looking for me!” Alex argued. “They only went to that other condo by mistake. If they’d come to the right one, they might have….” She stopped because she didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if the men had come to her condo and Dylan hadn’t been there with her. She found herself turning to Dylan, silently appealing to him with her eyes.

  “I can keep on it,” Dylan said quickly. “Lieu won’t mind.”

  Detective Whitmire frowned. “I will speak to Lieutenant Adams about that, but you know how he is about any of us working on cases that, well, have little to go on.” He nodded to them both and left the room.

  Dylan swore under his breath.

  Alex clutched her purse tightly. She knew she had basically admitted she was afraid to both men, but she didn’t care. She felt her knees start to buckle. She grabbed the back of the chair for balance.

  “You feel the two men are looking for something,” she said, listening to the squeak in her voice. “Since we can assume they haven’t found it yet, they’ll eventually find my condo. Or find me elsewhere.” She felt her sense of empowerment dissolve like sugar in coffee.

  Dylan touched her shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Alex, because I’m going to find them before they even get close to you,” he vowed quietly. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Alex was aware of curious eyes directed their way as they walked through the squad room. She sensed it had something to do with the fact she was Dylan’s ex-wife.

  “May I use your cell phone?” she asked him after they returned to his truck. He unclipped it from his belt and handed it to her. She punched in her office number and was instantly connected with her assistant. After assuring Janet she was all right, she made her request and was assured the papers she needed would be sent by courier over to her home.

  “If you’d rather you can log on to the office network from home,” her assistant told her.

  “Janet told me I can log on to my files from my home computer,” she told Dylan as she handed him back his phone.

  “Good. Do you feel like going by the airport parking lot? See if anything seems familiar to you?”

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to push me to regain my memory.” She didn’t know why, but the idea of going out to the parking lot sent her stomach somersaulting.

  “I’m not supposed to give you facts you need to learn on your own,” he corrected. “This way we’re just seeing if something seems familiar to you.”

  Alex’s head started pounding as she thought over Dylan’s suggestion. She realized that swallowing wasn’t easing the sudden dryness in her throat. “Could we stop somewhere so I could get something to drink?” she asked.

  Dylan shot a quick look at her, noted her paler-than-normal features and made a quick turn. She was grateful he didn’t ask any questions as he parked at a fast-food joint and they walked inside.

  “Too early
for anything stronger.” He smiled at her as he brought two diet Cokes back to their small corner table. He handed her one of the cups before sitting in the chair across from her.

  She nodded her thanks as she sipped the liquid through the straw. She felt more relaxed once the dryness in her throat was eased.

  “I still don’t remember anything about the attack, yet the minute you asked me if I would go back to that parking lot I felt as if you were asking me to enter some sort of hall of nightmares,” she admitted, digging through her purse until she found a small bottle of aspirin. She shook out two tablets and grimaced as she swallowed them. “I may not remember everything, but I do know I wasn’t normally this wishy-washy.”

  “Yeah, you’ve always been pretty much a take-charge woman,” he said quietly. “Just one more thing we can blame on the head injury, I guess. I wouldn’t call you wishy-washy. You’re just trying to find your way.”

  “That’s a nice way of saying I lost my mind along with my memory.” She looked across the room and watched a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties. She had a toddler in a high chair on each side of her as she shared hash brown nuggets and small cups of juice with them. There was no doubt she was enjoying herself. The woman smiled and appeared to be chattering away to each of them. Alex felt a small hitch in her chest. Could that have been her if she and Dylan hadn’t divorced? Except she did remember that there had been no mention of children while they pursued their careers. No, she was the one who sought to move up the career ladder fast.

  You have to make a choice, Dylan’s voice echoed inside her head.

  Obviously, I made one. But was it the wrong one? she thought miserably, turning away before Dylan guessed something other than her circumstances was upsetting her. As she turned back to him, her gaze swept across the drive-through lane that passed them. The driver of the car in her line of sight stared right back at her. Except instead of an impersonal stare, he looked at her with shock, his face turning red. She didn’t recognize him.

  But he clearly knew who she was.

  An electric sensation traveled down the back of her neck. The man may not have looked familiar to her, but deep down she had the strongest feeling she knew exactly who he was. Taming down her excitement, she determinedly kept a bland expression and her gaze centered on her cup.

  “Dylan, I think the men who attacked me are going through the drive-through,” she whispered.

  Not by a flicker of an eyelash did Dylan let on he heard her words. He smiled at her as if he had all the time in the world, even as he rose to his feet.

  “Ready?” he inquired as he picked up his cup and, with a practiced throw, tossed it neatly in the nearby trash bin. Alex nodded and followed him to the door with her cup still in her hand as she remained fast on his heels.

  “Which car is it?” he asked tersely, now running to his truck.

  “The beige Toyota.” She pulled open the passenger door and threw herself inside as he started up the engine.

  “Great! There’re three beige Toyotas in line!” Dylan swore as he started to back up, almost slamming into an SUV driving behind him.

  “The Camry!” Alex gripped the dashboard as she twisted around to watch the drive-through lane where the man and his passenger were trapped behind another car. She only had to see the man’s panicked expression to know he was aware of who she was. He was making wild gestures to his passenger, who looked just as terrified.

  Dylan gunned the engine, fully prepared to block the car, but before he could get over there, a UPS truck pulled in front of him and stopped.

  “Move it!” Dylan shouted, then flashed his shield at the startled driver. “Move it now!” He quickly shifted gears as the large brown truck moved forward.

  “Dylan, they’re getting away!” Alex grabbed his arm.

  “Not if I can help it.” With a grim expression on his face, he swerved around the delivery truck, drove over a curb and narrowly missed sideswiping a car as he made a hard right toward the exit that the car in question was racing toward. “So you recognized those guys?”

  “More like the driver recognized me.” She realized she hadn’t buckled her seat belt and quickly pulled it across her chest. “He looked…I don’t know, scared when he saw me. They’re on the street already! Can’t you use a siren?” She practically bounced up and down in her seat.

  “You’re sure enough they’re the ones?” he asked.

  “Yes!”

  Dylan pulled down his visor and switched on his LEO strobe light, then flipped the switch for the siren as he called in the information to Dispatch.

  Dylan’s head swiveled one way then the other. “Where are those guys?”

  “There! Left! Left!” she practically screamed as she pointed in the direction she wanted him to take.

  “Who knew there were so many damn beige Toyota Camrys in town,” he muttered. He made a sharp turn, downshifted and swerved around cars until he was almost on the rear bumper of their quarry. The minute he saw it, he swore loud and strong before switching off the visor light and siren and pulling over to the side. He faced forward, keeping a tight grip on the steering wheel.

  “Dylan! They’re getting away!” she yelled at him.

  “That was a Ford Contour, not a Toyota Camry,” he said in a controlled voice.

  Alex slumped back in the seat. “I was positive it was the same car leaving the parking lot.”

  “Both cars have a similar body type.” He released a deep sigh. “I called in the sighting. Since they know you saw them they’ll probably ditch the car first chance they get. I’ll put in an alert for patrol to be on the lookout for any abandoned beige Camrys. If we’re lucky it’s a rental we can trace. Hopefully they won’t have taken the time to wipe down the vehicle and we might be able to lift some prints.” He took several deep breaths.

  Dylan concentrated on calming himself. Alex picked her cup up and sipped her drink.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I lost them,” she said softly.

  “It happens.” Dylan reined in the adrenaline that had been coursing through his system. He mentally slapped himself upside the head for not handling this better. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “But at least we know whoever is after you is still in town,” he said.

  “That’s comforting,” Alex murmured.

  “Can you give any kind of description?”

  “Probably not enough for a good ID. I have no idea of height or weight or eye color. Dark hair, either dark brown or black. Sunglasses.” Alex closed her eyes as if trying to relive the scene. “Maybe late thirties, early forties. I couldn’t see his passenger at all.”

  “We got an idea of height from the security tapes as compared to your height. What you just gave is more than we had an hour ago,” Dylan pointed out. “How about we swing by the station and you check out mug shots while his face is fresh in your mind?”

  “Why doesn’t that prospect sound appealing?”

  “Yeah, it can be time-consuming. But we can also get lucky.”

  Alex closed her eyes with the intention of recreating the man’s face in her mind. “All right, let’s do it.”

  “That’s my girl.” He patted her thigh as he made a quick turn.

  Three hours and lots of eyestrain later, Alex stumbled out of the police station with Dylan holding on to her arm.

  “That was not fun,” she complained, accepting his hand as she climbed into his truck.

  “Police work always looks more interesting on TV,” he admitted, walking around to the driver’s door. “Tell you what. Let’s go back to your place and you can log on to your files.”

  Dylan soon turned into Alex’s parking lot and moved down to the visitor’s lot closest to her building.

  When they stepped into the living room, the first thing they noticed was that the place had been straightened up and the lemony scent of furniture polish hung in the air.

  “Detective Whitmire did say I have a cleaning service.”

  Fi
ve seconds into Dylan’s call to Alan Whitmire, Dylan felt ready to throttle the guy.

  “How do we know she saw the right men?” Whitmire asked. “The woman sustained a severe head injury just a couple of days ago. Maybe it was more a case of wishful thinking.”

  Dylan felt his jaw clench so tight he was surprised his teeth didn’t pop out of his mouth. “Alex’s memory might be scrambled, but she isn’t crazy. Besides, she didn’t say she recognized them. She said they recognized her. Why else would they haul ass out of there the way they did? If we hadn’t ended up following the wrong car, I would have had them.”

  “Or some innocent citizen suing us for false arrest.” There was a pause on the other end. “I will put in a request to be notified on any abandoned beige Camrys, but I don’t expect much to come from it.”

  Dylan took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. “Thank you.”

  “I spoke to Lieutenant Adams and he approved your continuing to stay with Ms. Spencer. Are you sure this is a good idea, Parker? Your shared history is no secret.”

  “Call it a way to find some closure. Thanks again.” Dylan disconnected the call. He wanted nothing more than to help Alex look over her files, but he knew he was banned from the room. He would just have to trust her judgment.

  How did he end up going from plotting crazy ways to pay alimony to her to playing her bodyguard?

  Get real, Parker. You still care for her.

  He paced the length of the room. He knew Whitmire had delivered her a blow when he said her case was going to be put on a back burner.

  “Doesn’t make sense,” he muttered, walking down the hallway and stopping in the doorway. Alex sat at an oak desk with a sheaf of papers in front of her.

  “I told you you can’t read any of this,” she warned.

  “I know.” He rested a shoulder against the doorjamb. “I just heard that Lieutenant Adams approved my request to stick with you.”

  She quickly masked her pleasure. “Except for my case, crime must be quiet.”