The Girl Who Cried Murder

by Paula Graves

  “Maybe he didn’t get the message. Did you leave it at home or at his office?”

  “His office.”

  “Maybe someone retrieved the message before he did and forgot to give it to him.”

  “Or maybe he just thinks I’m a big, fat liar who got his daughter killed,” she muttered, looking down at her hands. They had started twisting together of their own volition, a telltale sign that she was feeling anxious and self-conscious. She stilled her hands, clutching them together tightly in her lap. “Anyway, after that, I started getting the weirdest feeling that I was being watched. You know, when you get that creeping sensation down the back of your neck when someone’s staring at you? But I never saw anyone.”

  “Is that why you decided to take the self-defense course?”

  “Yes. And then, two days later, someone tampered with the brakes of my car.”

  Trask pushed away from the window abruptly. “What?”

  “My brake line was cut and the fluid drained out while I was at my self-defense class. If Mike hadn’t seen the puddle of fluid where my car had been and realized I was in trouble...” She told him about her brakes failing and the way Mike had stopped her car before it crashed. “He saved my life.”

  “What a stroke of luck. How’d he happen to know whose car the brake fluid came from?”

  She frowned at his suspicious tone. “He was watching me leave.”

  “So, you were being watched by both some unknown person and Mike Strong? All in one week?”

  “Go to hell, Trask.” She stood up and walked toward the door.

  Trask caught her arm, his grip gentle. “Sorry. I’m a cop. Suspicious is my middle name. Finish telling me what else happened. Why are you staying here? Because of the brake tampering?”

  “No. We sort of blew that off. The guy at the garage couldn’t say for sure how the line was cut at the time. So Mike sent it to the security agency for his people to take a closer look. But then I walked into my house a day later after self-defense class and discovered my place had been trashed.” She told him about the vandalism and about Mike’s decision that she needed a safer place to stay until they could figure out who was messing with her.

  “Did you think to call the police?”

  “Yes, actually. Officer Bentley of the Campbell Cove Police Department wrote up a report for my insurance company, but he told me that since nothing was stolen, I’d do better to spend my time getting as much insurance reimbursement as my policy would allow.”

  “He’s probably right,” Trask admitted. He folded his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful. “What happened to Strong’s head? Did that have anything to do with what’s going on with you?”

  “We think so.”

  After she finished telling him about the intruder at her house the previous day, he shook his head. “You know, you could have called me if you thought any of this was connected to Alice’s death.”

  She stared up at him with disbelief. “Trask, you treated me as if I was your prime suspect in Alice’s death. Why on earth would I go to you with any of this?”

  He sighed again. “Fair enough. I hope you realize now that I’ll hear you out. We’re on the same side, Charlie. I want to find out what really happened to Alice that night, too.”

  “Then we need to find whoever trashed my house and tampered with my brakes and drugged Mike.”

  A small commotion coming from the front of the house drew Trask’s attention away from Charlie. He headed out of the room, Charlie on his heels. Maddox Heller, who’d been standing guard outside the office, brought up the rear. They reached the living room to find Amelia Strong engulfing her son in a bear hug.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Amelia asked. “I’d have come to pick you up myself.”

  “I needed Eric’s medical degree to talk the doctors into springing me early,” Mike answered, gently disentangling himself from his mother’s arms. He met Charlie’s gaze and smiled, but his expression faded into suspicion when he caught sight of Archer Trask. “Deputy, what a surprise to see you.”

  “Charlie was catching me up on everything that’s been happening to you.” Trask crossed to where Mike stood and extended his hand. “I think we all want the same thing. For Charlie to be safe and to find out what really happened to Alice.”

  Mike hesitated a moment, his gaze slanting toward Charlie once more. She gave a little nod, and he reached out and shook Trask’s hand. “Charlie tells me I have you to thank for getting me to the hospital so quickly.”

  Trask looked at Charlie. “Don’t thank me. Charlie was the one who risked her life to help you.”

  Mike’s gaze snapped back to Charlie. “Risked her life?”

  Trask looked at her as well, one eyebrow raised.

  “I haven’t really had a chance to tell Mike everything that happened that night,” Charlie said. “And I wouldn’t say I exactly risked my life. I ran for help. That’s all.”

  “What the hell were you running from?” Mike asked.

  “Language,” Amelia murmured, making everybody in the room chuckle, even Mike.

  “Mrs. Strong, why don’t we go to the kitchen and fix some sandwiches for everybody,” Maddox Heller suggested, gently steering Amelia away from Mike. He looked over at Deputy Trask. “Trask, you can help us by putting ice in glasses.”

  Within a few seconds, the living room was empty except for Mike and Charlie. She ventured a smile, but he didn’t return it. Instead, he crossed to where she stood, took her hand and pulled her with him down the hall to the spare bedroom.

  He closed the door behind them and caught her up in his arms, slanting his mouth hard against hers. Caught off guard, she clung to him for balance as the world around her started to spin like a top.

  There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was pure fire, burning her to her core until she felt as if she were nothing but ashes. Then the flames roared again and she rose from the ashes to burn as his mouth traced a path of fire along the curve of her cheek and down the side of her throat.

  As if something inside her had snapped, she felt released from shackles, free to be the person she had always wanted to be. Free to take the things she wanted most without fear or shame.

  And what she wanted most, she realized, was Mike Strong. His strength. His laughter.

  His lips gliding slowly, deliberately toward the curve of her breasts, where they peeked from the collar of her shirt.

  When he drew back, it happened so suddenly that her knees started to buckle. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her over to the bed, where he sat, bringing her down onto his lap.

  “Okay,” he said in a shaky voice, “before we get too carried away, there’s something I need to know. You know, last night, when I woke up, I knew you were keeping something from me. So how about you tell me exactly what you were running from in the alley.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Charlie and Mike entered the kitchen, where Trask and Heller waited, Heller pulled Mike aside. “On a hunch, I checked your truck. There had to be some way Charlie’s stalker has been tracking y’all without your noticing the tail.”

  “I would hope so.”

  “Well, I was right. You picked up a rogue GPS tracker at some point. I’ve left it there for now.”

  “Why?”

  Heller just nodded for Mike to join him as he crossed to the kitchen table, where Charlie had taken a seat.

  “I don’t like hiding.” Charlie’s voice was low and composed, but Mike had begun to understand her well enough to see the barely restrained restlessness lurking behind her eyes as she looked up to meet his gaze. It wasn’t just the hiding that was getting to her. She was done with being a target.

  “Until we know who’s after you, keeping you hidden is the best way to keep you safe.” Archer Trask crossed to
the empty chair at the table where Charlie sat and leaned toward her. His attitude toward Charlie had changed, Mike noted. On one hand, Mike was glad for Charlie to have a few more people on her side. On the other hand, Trask had just taken the chair Mike had been about to claim for himself. And the warmth in Trask’s eyes was really beginning to annoy him.

  “So let’s figure out who’s after me, then,” Charlie said, a hint of frustration beginning to seep into her voice. “It has to be connected to whatever happened the night Alice died, doesn’t it?”

  “I think so,” Maddox Heller agreed. “You said the sensation of being watched or followed started shortly after you left a message at the Craig Bearden for Senate campaign office, right?”

  “Yes.” Charlie looked at Mike, her eyes expressive. She was tired of going over all the details of her story, and he sympathized with her annoyance, but her story was all they had to go on at the moment. And what they knew was limited by how very little she remembered.

  “Have you ever considered undergoing hypnosis?” Mike asked.

  Trask gave him a sharp side-eye glance.

  “You think I’d remember more under hypnosis?” Charlie asked, her tone skeptical. “I don’t think drug-related amnesia is something you can counteract with mind games.”

  “No, but if there weren’t any more memories to retrieve, I’m not sure you’d be remembering new details in your dreams.”

  Charlie pushed to her feet, the chair legs making a loud screeching sound against the floor. She paced the kitchen floor, raking her hair out of her eyes with her fingers. “What if those aren’t really memories? What if everything I think I’m remembering is just something I’m making up in my head to fill in all those awful blanks?”

  Mike planted himself in front of her and gently closed his hands around her upper arms. “Do you think it’s something you’re making up?”

  She closed her eyes a moment, her brow furrowed. Then her eyes snapped open and she shook her head. “No. I think they’re really memories.”

  “Then that’s what we go with.” Mike turned to look at the other two men. “Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Trask said.

  Heller nodded. “It would probably help if we could access more of your memories.”

  “Do either of you know anyone who uses hypnosis to recover memories?” Mike asked.

  “It’s not considered a reliable way to remember things,” Trask warned. “People tend to remember things that aren’t real if the hypnotist leads them at all. Especially people already prone to confabulation.”

  “Meaning me,” Charlie murmured to Mike.

  “Lauren Pell is a trained psychiatrist,” Heller said. He looked at Mike. “She works in our PSYOPS training division.”

  “Can we get her here fast?” Mike asked.

  “I’ll find out.” Heller pulled out his phone.

  Mike cupped Charlie’s elbow and pulled her aside. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can find another way.”

  Charlie shook her head. “I need to do this. Even if the idea scares me.”

  He brushed a floppy lock of hair away from her forehead. “Why does it scare you?”

  “If there are memories I can retrieve, if it’s not drug-related memory loss, why haven’t I remembered any of this for ten years? What if I saw something that I don’t want to remember?” Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them from falling. “What if I did something I don’t want to remember?”

  Mike looked across the room at Trask, who sat with one foot propped on the opposite knee, watching them curiously. He lowered his voice further. “You were investigated as a person of interest. If there was anything to tie you to what happened to Alice, I have every reason to believe you’d have been charged.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” she said. “But what if I did something to put her in that situation?”

  “I’ll tell you the same thing Craig Bearden told me. The only person to blame is the person who ran over Alice. Nobody else.”

  “He said that?”

  “He did.”

  That earned him a smile from her. “There was a time when I thought Mr. and Mrs. Bearden actually liked me. They were both always really kind and accepting of my friendship with Alice. But after she died...”

  “Death has that effect on people.”

  “I know.” She stepped closer, until her warmth washed over him, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “It had a similar effect on me.”

  Heller’s voice interrupted. “Lauren’s on her way. She suggests that we all clear out except for Charlie and Mike. She’d like to keep the distractions to a minimum.”

  Trask stood and stretched. “I’ll head back to the station and see if there’s anything there that needs my attention. Call if you need me. And be sure to record that session.”

  He followed Heller down the hallway to the front door. Mike and Charlie trailed after them, Mike locking the door behind the two men before turning back to Charlie. She gazed back at him, worry lines creasing her forehead.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Charlie. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  She closed the distance between them, walking into his outstretched arms. “I know. And thank you.”

  “We have a lot to talk about, you and me,” he murmured against her hair. “You know that, don’t you?”

  She nodded, her hair sliding like silk against his cheek. “I know. But I just can’t think about anything like that right now. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah,” he said, although her reluctance sent a little flutter of anxiety through his chest. What if she didn’t want to pursue what they felt for each other? What if she didn’t feel the same way he was beginning to feel?

  Later, he told himself. Worry about it later.

  Right now, protecting Charlie was the only thing that mattered.

  * * *

  CHARLIE WASN’T SURE she was really under hypnosis. She felt very aware of her surroundings, of the soft, soothing voice of the hypnotherapist Lauren Pell. She was a tall woman in her thirties, with short dark hair, soft blue eyes and a gentle manner that had made Charlie feel instantly at ease.

  “Tell me about the taste of the beer,” Lauren suggested. “Was it cold or lukewarm?”

  “Lukewarm,” Charlie answered, grimacing as she spoke. “And bitter. I remember wishing I’d gotten a drink like Alice’s. Hers looked so good, but I was afraid of trying anything with hard liquor in it. Alice teased me about it. Said I was a big chicken.”

  “Did that make you angry?”

  “No.” Charlie smiled. “I was a big chicken. But I also wasn’t on the way to becoming a sloppy drunk like my uncle Jim. So I didn’t feel very sorry about that.”

  “You must have been a levelheaded young woman.”

  “I don’t think anyone ever accused me of that.”

  “Think about the beer. You said it tasted bitter. But you drank it anyway?”

  “A couple of sips. Three, maybe. I was mostly interested in what Alice was doing.”

  “Which was what?”

  “She was looking out the window beside our table. Just drinking her pretty little cocktail and watching the alley behind the bar.”

  “What was she watching for?”

  “I wasn’t sure. And when I asked, she told me she was just bored.” Charlie frowned, realizing the strangeness of what she’d just said. “On our big, transgressive night out. That’s strange, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t know Alice.”

  “It was strange. The whole night was strange. And then, suddenly, Alice grabbed my arm and said it was time to go.”

  “Go where?” Lauren asked.

  Charlie got up and started walking, her steps a little unsteady. S
he could feel Alice’s hand curled around her wrist, tugging her along as they left the bar and stepped out into the chilly winter night.

  Only, she wasn’t walking, was she? Not really. She was still seated on the sofa in Mike’s living room. Lauren Pell sat in one of the armchairs across the coffee table from her, and Mike was a big warm presence somewhere to her right. But the cold breeze sent a chill skittering through her, and the scent of Alice’s favorite perfume wafted toward her as they entered the alley behind the Headhunter Bar.

  There’s someone out here, Charlie thought. She could hear voices, shaping words that she couldn’t quite make out. A man’s voice. Maybe a woman’s. Charlie couldn’t tell for sure.

  And it was dark. So dark. The only light came from the dim illumination through the tinted windows inside the bar and one faint light burning inside the cinder block building across the alley from the bar.

  There was someone inside the building. Charlie could make out moving shadows through the thin curtains in the building’s windows.

  But the world was starting to twirl around her. Twirl and twist, growing incrementally darker.

  She felt herself falling. Arms wrapped around her, and Alice’s perfume filled her lungs. Suddenly, she was on the ground, her face pressed against the damp pavement where the alley intersected with the side street.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” Alice said quietly, her voice almost mournful, “but I have to do the rest of this by myself.”

  The world seemed so dark. For a long time, there was a universe of nothingness so dense, so vast, that it terrified her. Her breath came in hard gasps as the panic rose inside her, hot and bitter like bile. “The world has disappeared!” she gasped.

  “You’re okay, Charlie.” Lauren’s voice was low and soothing. “You can go to your safe place if you need to.”

  Charlie pictured herself in Mike’s arms. Felt them around her, solid and warm. It wasn’t the safe place she had originally considered when Lauren had walked her through how they were going to approach the hypnosis session, but it felt right.