Circumstantial Memories

by Carol Ericson

  “Did you see him again?” Rafe pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. “Did you get a license plate number?”

  She shook her head. “I never saw him again, but then I didn’t get a good look at him. I just remember the sunglasses. Do you think he’s the monster who’s been stalking me? Do you think he drove Dr. Brody off the road and killed Zack?”

  A wave of nausea washed over her and she clutched her stomach, doubling over. If she had pulled over that night she might already be dead. No, not dead. He didn’t want to kill her. He made that clear the other night.

  Ryder’s strong arms led her back to the porch swing and he sat next to her, holding her close. “At least he’s out in the open now. People have seen him. You’ve seen him.”

  “Not really.” She wiped the back of her hand across her clammy brow. “I probably wouldn’t recognize him if I ran into him on Main Street. The sunglasses, the hat, the clothes. He’s wearing a disguise, isn’t he?”

  “Maybe.” Rafe leaned against the porch railing and shoved his notebook back in his pocket. “But it’s more than you had before.”

  “Do you have a composite drawing of the man in the bar with Brody?”

  “Not yet, but we’re working on it.”

  “How are Sheriff Ballard and his wife holding up?” Julia rested her head on Ryder’s shoulder. Might as well take advantage of his presence in Silverhill while it lasted. Who knew how long he planned to stay? Maybe he’d leave before the police even caught this guy.

  Rafe lifted a shoulder. “The sheriff’s a stoic old guy, but Mrs. Ballard is wrecked. She’s been wanting to move nearer to her daughter’s family in Atlanta, and I think this is going to be the deciding factor. She can’t stay here.”

  Julia knew the feeling. Some maniac had shattered their peaceful existence in Silverhill and she brought him here. Her neighbors, who had once welcomed her, now eyed her with suspicion and thinly veiled hostility. She recognized the looks. The people of Silverhill had directed the same looks her way when the media descended on the town, bringing with them a circus atmosphere in their zeal to cover Julia’s bizarre story.

  She got the looks again when the good folks of Silverhill discovered she’d had a relationship and a child with one of its own eligible bachelors.

  Even Ryder’s stepmother alluded to Julia’s disruptive effect on the town of Silverhill. Perhaps it was time to wrap up this chapter of her life and move back to Paris. She’d already written a letter to her mother, sending pictures of Shelby. If her mother wanted to see her, she’d hop on the next flight to the city of lights and romance…as a single mom.

  Charlie Malone’s jeep crawled up the drive and he pulled to a stop in front of the house. He lumbered up the walkway and nodded to the two McClintock brothers, ignoring Rafe’s outstretched hand. “My mom sent me over to pick up some food for the Ballards.”

  “Is your mom over there now?” Julia asked.

  Charlie nodded. “Mrs. Ballard is going back to Atlanta with her daughter, Kelly, after Zack’s funeral.”

  Julia rose from the swing and took Charlie’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry. I know Zack was your friend.”

  “Didn’t the two of you have a fight last week?” Rafe slid his back up the post and crossed his arms. “Sheriff Ballard said he caught the two of you arguing about something at the B and B.”

  “It wasn’t a fight.” Charlie puffed out his chest and glared at Rafe.

  “Whatever it was, you owe me an explanation. Like it or not, I’m the new Deputy Sheriff in town.”

  Rafe hadn’t moved a muscle and he still slumped against the post, but his glittering blue eyes signaled danger.

  Charlie read the sign loud and clear. He coughed. “We had a…discussion about Rosie.”

  “Rosie?” Rafe lifted a brow that disappeared beneath the rim of his black cowboy hat.

  “She works for us at the B and B.” Charlie kicked his boot against the top step. “Me and her are dating, and Zack started to move in on her. When I told him to back off, he laughed at me.”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “So tell me, Charlie, did you decide to get rid of the competition?”

  “Rafe!” Julia’s voice cracked. Were these McClintocks crazy?

  “No.” Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want Zack dead. I just wanted him to leave Rosie alone. And that goes for everyone else. Does your stepmom have that food, Ryder?”

  Ryder snapped his gaping mouth shut and shook his head. “She’s still cooking. She’ll have something later this afternoon and she’ll bring it over herself.”

  Charlie grunted and stomped back to his jeep, little tufts of dust rising from his boots.

  Julia blinked. “What was that all about?”

  “I think that’s Charlie Malone in love.” Ryder scratched his chin. “But why does he have it in for you, Rafe?”

  Julia said, “Rosie told me right in front of Charlie that she wanted to get to know you better, Rafe. I think Charlie’s relationship with Rosie is all in his head, wishful thinking.”

  Ryder raised one eyebrow. “Have you been hitting on this Rosie chick?”

  “I don’t think so.” Rafe’s slow smile claimed his face. “Not that I know of.”

  “See what I mean, Julia? My brother’s nothing but trouble.”

  “Hold on a minute.” She waved her hands in the air as if to disperse the clouds of confusion. “Do you really think Charlie had anything to do with Zack’s death?”

  Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know. Just thought I should stick it to him while the time was right. He was obviously pissed off at me. I wanted to catch him off guard.”

  “And did you get the response you wanted?” Julia hugged herself, sucking in her bottom lip.

  “It’s a start.” Rafe jerked his head in her direction. “Why, did you catch something?”

  “Yeah, a whiff of Charlie’s cologne.”

  TWO DAYS LATER, Ryder kicked his heels up on Rod’s desk and placed a call to Black Cobra headquarters in Washington. His supervisor, Jeff Lawrence, had left him a message earlier that morning, and Ryder figured he was calling about the CD. Too early for his next assignment. He had at least another month of leave coming. Maybe he could take Julia and Shelby to his place in South Carolina. And then what?

  Ryder left his own message with Jeff’s secretary and then tipped his head back on Rod’s leather chair. He didn’t want to leave until the police caught Julia’s stalker…Zack’s killer. Did he want to leave at all? He knew with bone-chilling certainty that if he left, he’d be walking out of Julia’s and Shelby’s lives forever. Julia would never forgive him. And he’d have a helluva time forgiving himself.

  Since he’d graduated from dropping bouquets of flowers on her porch, Julia’s stalker had been leaving a lot more clues. He’d make a mistake one of these days.

  Rafe decided to look at Charlie more closely after his jealous outburst the other day and discovered he didn’t have an alibi at the time of Zack’s murder. Ryder could imagine Charlie skulking around Julia’s house and even slashing his tires, but murder?

  The phone rang and he grabbed it before anyone else in the household could get to it. Jeff’s voice hissed over the phone. “Are you alone, Ryder?”

  “Yep. Did you look at the CD?”

  “We got into it. Old news. Of course we don’t want it floating around, but the information on that disc isn’t going to do our enemies any good now.”

  Ryder rolled his shoulders, easing the tension out of his muscles. Good news on that front anyway. “That’s good to hear. I take it the CD would’ve caused a lot of damage at the time Jeremy Scott took it.”

  “A helluva lot of damage. That’s why we tried to get it back by any means necessary.”

  “Any means necessary?” Ryder’s heart thudded in his chest. “What are you telling me, Jeff?”

  Jeff paused and then his voice came back, smooth as aged cognac. “I’m not telling you anything. As far as we know, the e
nemy murdered Jeremy Scott, blew him and his house in Tucson sky-high. He probably wouldn’t give them the CD. Demanded more money or something. Jeremy was a greedy SOB.”

  Ryder swallowed and a pain sliced behind his eyes. Did Black Cobra take out one of its agents? He massaged his temples. Ex-agent. Did it really shock him? Black Cobra didn’t operate the same way as the CIA. It followed its own rules, its own code of ethics. But those rules could’ve resulted in Julia’s death, too. Did the agency even care if anyone else was in that house?

  “Ryder?” Jeff’s voice sharpened. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We won’t discuss Jeremy Scott again. You won’t discuss him with anyone else.”

  Did that include Jeremy’s ex-wife? “I hear you.”

  Jeff let out a sigh. “You’re leaving for your next assignment in two weeks. Jakarta. You’re an arms dealer.”

  Jeff’s words slammed against Ryder’s chest, and he almost tipped over in Rod’s chair. “Two weeks? What happened to my long leave?”

  “I thought you wanted to stay out in the field. You transferred right from Somalia to Chechnya without blinking an eye.”

  That’s because he couldn’t find Julia after Somalia. He didn’t have any reason to come back to the States and a desk assignment. And now?

  “Are you in?” Jeff’s voice pressed like a heavy weight against his heart.

  If he left for Jakarta in two weeks, he wouldn’t be able to protect Julia anymore. Had he really been protecting her? What if he stayed and failed…again?

  Ryder dragged in a deep breath. “I’ll let you know.”

  Promising to discuss the issue later, Ryder ended the call and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. Could he stay and make a family with Julia and Shelby? That little girl already had him wrapped around her grubby fingers, but the thought of hearth and home scared the hell out of him.

  The phone rang again and when nobody else answered it, he scooped it up and pressed the talk button.

  “Hello?”

  A woman’s husky voice purred over the line. “Can I speak to Ryder McClintock?”

  “You’re speaking to him.”

  “When you got back to town, I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you, but this isn’t what I had in mind.” The woman had a throaty growl that promised long nights of sensual pleasures for some lucky guy.

  “Who is this?”

  “My name’s Rosie Fletcher. I work at the Mountain View B and B.”

  Great. That’s all they needed, to get Charlie riled up at another McClintock. “What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, it’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.”

  He doubted any woman besides Julia Rousseau could do anything for him. He cleared his throat. “Cut to the chase, Rosie.”

  “I think I have some information about that accident on Highway 160, the one involving your girlfriend’s shrink.”

  Ryder’s pulse quickened. “I’d be interested in hearing about it, but I think you have the wrong McClintock brother. You want my brother, Rafe. He’s the lawman.”

  “You’re right. I do want your brother.” She gave a low laugh. “But not right now. The information I have is for sale and the last time I checked, the police weren’t paying.”

  “And if I call the sheriff and tell him you have this information?”

  “I’ll forget it in a hurry.”

  “How much?”

  “Two or three grand. Whatever you have lying around that big, sprawling ranch of yours.”

  He didn’t bother to correct her. The ranch didn’t belong to him, but he could lay his hands on a few thousand. “Can you tell me what you have over the phone?”

  “Can you lay some cold, hard cash on me over the phone?” She paused as his silence gave her the obvious answer. “I didn’t think so. Meet me at guesthouse behind the B and B. You know it? Down by the creek.”

  “I know where it is.”

  Ryder agreed to meet Rosie forty-five minutes later. After raiding Rod’s safe and stuffing two thousand, three hundred and forty-eight dollars in a manila envelope, Ryder slammed out of the house and hopped in his truck. He’d get the info from Rosie first. If he deemed it of any value, he’d hand over the cash. Then he’d deliver Rosie’s information to Rafe.

  The Malones’ B and B had a guesthouse behind the main house that sat at the edge of a creek. Sometimes Gracie rented it out, especially during ski season, and sometimes she used it to house the seasonal help. Maybe Charlie talked his mother into making it available for Rosie, so he could pay her some private visits away from his mother’s watchful gaze.

  Ryder parked his truck across the road from the B and B and walked along the side of the property, his boots crunching the gravel. He knew Gracie was with Mrs. Ballard to help her prepare for Zack’s funeral tomorrow. He just hoped Charlie had better things to do than spy on Rosie. Ryder didn’t need a con frontation with Charlie right now.

  Clutching the manila envelope with the cash against his body, Ryder knocked on the door of the guesthouse. No answer. “Rosie?”

  He followed the sound of the gurgling stream in back of the guesthouse. The trees across the water swayed in the light breeze, their leaves playing peekaboo with the sun and throwing a dappled pattern on the ground.

  A twig snapped and the hair on the back his neck rose. He narrowed his eyes as he peered into the dense foliage across the creek bed. “Rosie?”

  Clambering over a few rocks, Ryder made his way along the edge of the stream and pulled up sharply. A woman crouched over the edge of the water as if drinking from the stream.

  With his mouth dry, Ryder crunched through the rocks on the creek bed to reach her side. The woman was kneeling over, face down in the water, her long brown hair fanning out around her.

  Ryder swallowed a lump in his throat as he crouched next to her. He nudged one bare shoulder, and a woman he presumed to be Rosie Fletcher fell over on her side. Ryder swore as Rosie’s lifeless, bulging eyes stared at him.

  At first he thought someone drowned her, but the angry red marks around her throat told a different story. Someone had strangled her and then shoved her head in the water.

  Ryder scanned the ground around her body and caught sight of a small, white card floating on the water, caught by a pile of pebbles. He pinched the edge of the card between two fingers and retrieved it from the creek.

  Drops of water magnified and distorted the gold embossed letters announcing Dr. Brody’s practice. Ryder flicked the soggy card with his index finger, sending pinpoints of water flying into the air. Is this the information Rosie had to offer him? If so, where did she get the card?

  He glanced down at Rosie’s inert form, the marks on her neck already purpling. Wherever she got the card, that information was lost to him now, sealed behind a dead woman’s vacant eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “For one crazy heart-stopping minute, I thought she was you.”

  Julia wrapped her hands around a cup of hot tea, trying to warm the chill that invaded her skin. The sun shone brightly in the blue sky, but the news of a third murder blotted out its warmth. A third murder at her door.

  “Did the sheriffs find anything on Rosie’s body?” Julia lowered her voice as the waitress hovered at the next booth. “Any clue to what information she had about Dr. Brody’s accident?”

  “Dr. Brody’s card was floating in the creek near Rosie’s body. I gave it to the cops. It was the least I could do. They’re not too happy with me for not calling them first after Rosie told me she had info. I explained that she threatened to clam up if I called the cops, and I didn’t even tell them about the money. Except Rafe. I told Rafe.”

  “Dr. Brody’s card?” Julia knitted her brows as she blew on her tea. “His business card? The same as the ones you found on the trail?”

  “Exactly the same. Maybe someone had one of those cards, and if that someone wasn’t a patient of Brody, it got Rosie thinking
about why he had his card.”

  “They still haven’t located Charlie?”

  “No, and they’re mighty interested in talking to him. Do you want anything to eat along with that tea?”

  She shook her head. Ryder had hurried over to the store from the crime scene to tell her about Rosie’s murder before she heard it through the grapevine and then dragged her off to Miner’s Café for a lunch she didn’t feel like eating.

  “This is such a mess.” Julia covered her face with her hands. “Why would Charlie go through all this trouble to get to me if he wanted Rosie?”

  “Maybe he used Rosie as a substitute for you. Maybe he figured once I came back into the picture, he didn’t have a chance with you.”

  She ignored his implication, served with a heaping side of ego. “Don’t you have a hard time believing Charlie murdered anyone?”

  “People act irrationally. If he’s innocent, where is he?”

  Her hand jerked, sloshing tea into the saucer, as a horrible thought slammed into her brain. “What if Charlie’s dead, too?”

  Ryder grasped her hand, droplets of tea and all. “He’s not dead. Whether he did it or not, he’s running scared. Our guy’s not too shy about leaving dead bodies lying around. If he killed Charlie, he wouldn’t hide the body. It’s as if he’s flaunting his cleverness in front of us, like he’s playing a game.”

  Julia shivered and sipped her tea. “I don’t think murder is clever.”

  Ryder thanked the waitress for his burger and fries and dug his elbows into the table on either side of his plate. “He’s clever because he’s making us suspect our own. What if your stalker is an outsider? This guy with the sunglasses? Or someone staying at one of the B and Bs?”

  “Are the police questioning all the guests at the Mountain View?”

  “Yeah, but it’s Charlie they really want.” Ryder squeezed the ketchup bottle, squirting ketchup all over his fries.