Remember Murder

by Linda Ladd

  Edging down the wall beside the door, she was able to see through the window that a man and a little girl stood on her porch. The guy was tall and lean with rather long dark blond hair. He looked sort of scruffy, a five o’clock shadow darkening the angles of his jaw. He was a rather dangerous looking individual, in fact, until she glimpsed the Disney picnic basket in his left hand. The little girl was kneeling in front of the window, where Jules was scratching on the glass with both front paws and whining with pleasure. Well, Claire’s dog seemed to know them. She, however, had never seen either one of them before. They didn’t look particularly threatening and had never made an appearance in any of her night terrors, so she decided she could probably handle them. And she was armed with two serious you’re-dead-if-you-touch-me weapons, which was also a major plus in said scenario.

  Claire sheathed the Glock and opened the door. “Yes?” she said to the man.

  “Yes?” the guy repeated, and yes, it sounded a bit sarcastic, but then he laughed out loud. “C’mon, Claire, I know you lost some brain cells to that dunk in the river and whatnot, but it’s me. Nobody forgets me. I’m too awesome.”

  He smiled again, a very nice smile. He was cute, all right, not as scruffy as first deemed, but with some sexy dark whiskers and that blond hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. He wore a white, V-necked T-shirt and tight Levis and white sneakers. He had a Semper Fi tattoo on his forearm. A Marine, like Oliver Long. The little girl was beautiful and blond and tiny and was staring up at Claire out of huge cornflower blue eyes.

  “And your awesome self is … ?” But Claire determined somehow that she did know him. And she knew right off that he had meant something to her. She just didn’t know what. Maybe he could tell her.

  “Joe McKay, ma’am, at your service. This here’s my perfect little Lizzie baby girl, who’s quite in love with your little hyperactive pooch. She wants to know if Jules is at home and can he go swimmin’ with her?”

  Jules answered that by barreling past Claire and out the door and jumping with one bound into the child’s arms. That staggered Lizzie backwards and engendered laughs from all of them. Lizzie ran inside with the poodle, but put him down quickly and attached herself to Claire’s knees in the sweetest and tightest leg hug. Claire knelt down and held the child close for a minute, and all kinds of memories started tugging and jerking emotions alive inside her heart. So this was the child who Black said she heard while she slept in that coma.

  “Thanks for that big hug, Lizzie. I’m glad you came to see me.” Lizzie smiled then, but didn’t say a word, just took off with Jules to the couch. She threw herself up and onto it, and Jules followed and settled himself on her lap.

  “Don’t worry, you know us. In fact, you love us.” Joe McKay was still giving Claire what could definitely be called an intensely charming, devil-may-care grin. “Actually, I almost forgot, we’re married. Sneaked off last year to Las Vegas and did the deed. We’ve been keeping it secret. That’s why nobody’s told you about it. So we better get up to the bed quick; it’s been a long time.” His eyes raked downward over Claire’s body in the most lascivious manner imaginable. “You are lookin’ hot as hell, indeed, detective.”

  “Yeah, right, Mr. Awesome. I might have amnesia, but I’m not stupid enough to fall for these lame come-ons.”

  “Well, it’s always worth a try. So, may I come in and make your day?”

  Claire couldn’t help but smile. This Joe McKay guy was just oh-so-sure of himself. He oozed sex appeal, almost as much as Black. But then again, nobody oozed more sex appeal than Black. From what she’d heard from women in the know, like Monica and Miki, and Bud, too, women fell in Nicholas Black’s wake like swooning, panting maidens all in a row. That is, they’d always added, until he met Claire. But Claire could relate to such panting maidens, too, oh, yeah. She said, “I guess you can come in, but just so you know, I’ve never seen you before. Guess I’ll have to take your word that I know you.”

  “Can’t you give out one small hug to a guy who is absolutely starved for your affection? Lizzie got one. I bet Jules got one, too.”

  Joe McKay caught her up in his arms before she could object, and gave her a tight, quick, I-mean-it-like-crazy hug. “God, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, very low. “I missed you like you would not believe.” He held her a little too long after that for her comfort level. But then he let her go, and smiling, pushed past her into the living room.

  “Hey, you hungry, Claire? I got some delectable food, right here in this basket.”

  “You brought me food? Why?”

  “Because I’ve missed you, and so you’d let me and Lizzie swim and fish off your dock. Made these goodies all myself. Baked honey ham sandwiches and potato salad. Beer for us and apple juice for Lizzie. I made some chocolate chip and raisin cookies that’ll melt inside that luscious mouth of yours.”

  Claire could only stare at him as he made himself very much at home in her kitchen. “I don’t know you from a hole in the wall.”

  “Well, now, guess we’ll take care of that today.”

  “Who exactly are you?”

  Joe McKay threw back his head and laughed, an infectious sound, indeed. He shook his head. “This’s gonna be fun, yes, ma’am. Mind if I turn on some cartoons for Lizzie?”

  “Be my guest.”

  Standing back, Claire wasn’t really all that alarmed. The guy seemed harmless enough, silly, even, and he wasn’t armed. She’d checked that out when he hugged her. A little quirky, maybe, but this guy was using a whole different approach than any of her other friends. That would be the ones who considered retrograde amnesiacs and dissociative disorders to be serious things. Little Lizzie settled down to watch Team Umizoomi, with Jules Verne still sitting on her lap and trying to lick her face.

  “Sit down. Don’t look so upset. You still keep your paper plates over the refrigerator?”

  She shrugged. “Who knows?” Then she remembered that she’d just seen them there. “Yes, I do.”

  “See, you’re remembering our shared paper-plate memories already.”

  “I just looked through the cabinets five minutes ago.”

  “You ready to eat? I bet you skipped lunch, didn’t you? Probably breakfast, too?”

  Actually, she had. All but a piece of toast with butter and blackberry jelly. And she was hungry, but her cupboard was bare. “Didn’t have time. Didn’t have any food, either.”

  “Just a tidbit for your on-empty memory banks: you never do.”

  Funnyman Joe unpacked his picnic basket. Claire should have felt ultra-uncomfortable at the way he’d barged into her house like he owned the place, but she didn’t. She felt something for this man, she knew that, but she couldn’t get any specific kind of vibes about him. He was interesting, though, she’d give him that much.

  “How do we know each other?” she asked him, sitting down at the bar and watching him grab some plates out of the cabinet and slap one down in front of her.

  “I helped you on a case once. Charlie brought me in. You see, I’m really something special, got psychic abilities, and everything. Don’t laugh.”

  “Why would I laugh?”

  “Let’s just say you don’t have a high regard for ESP, and don’t trust it as far as you can throw it. Anyway, after that, we became friends. Sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “Yeah. Sort of romantic for me. Sort of not romantic for you.”

  Claire observed him, and considered that remark. “But you were special to me, weren’t you?”

  Apparently surprised, McKay stopped taking the foil-covered bowls of food out of the basket and stared at her. “God, I hope so.”

  Trying to sort out her feelings, and finding that was a lot like feeling her way out of a pitch-black room, she said, “I feel like there was something between us. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

  They stared at each other, silent, measuring each other. He grew serious. “Well, I try to hide it.”

  Claire frown
ed, confused.

  “Okay, I had it pretty bad for you once upon a time.”

  I cannot tell you how weird my life is, she thought. All these people who care about me, and I have to ask them who and what and why. “What about me? Did I have it bad for you?”

  “You had it bad for Nick Black. You still do.”

  She thought about that for a moment. “So we broke up because of Black?”

  “We were never together, not that I didn’t try like hell. I’d try now, if I thought I had a chance.”

  That came off as a question, almost. “You have feelings for me now?”

  “Oh, yeah. But like I just said, you only have eyes for Nick. You met him first, damn it.” McKay laughed, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “The story of my life. A day late. A dollar short. The girl of my dreams lost to a rich shrink.”

  “I don’t remember much about anybody. Not him. Not you.”

  “You will. And don’t get me wrong. Nick’s a great guy. He loves you, and you love him. It’s just a matter of time before you know that. It’s all gonna come back. Give it time. It hasn’t been all that long.”

  He was being honest, but Claire still had a nagging sensation going on about the two of them. “I do remember feeling something for you. I’m just not sure what it was. I don’t remember exactly how I felt about him, either, but I do know that we were together before the accident. And I like him.”

  “Like I said, you will remember sooner or later. It’s been hands off for me for quite a while now. And trust me, I’m not masochistic enough to put myself through that kind of rejection again.”

  “If I loved him as much as everybody says, why can’t I remember what I felt for him?”

  This time he was completely sober, dropping that knowing smirk like a hot pan handle. “I don’t know, Claire. Brain injuries are hard to figure. Nick says you’ll be good as new soon, and I believe him. He knows what he’s talking about.”

  “Can you use your ESP to help me remember?”

  Joe grinned then, all loose and jokey again, just like that. Turn it on, turn it off, and she decided he was really pretty attractive in a bad-boy, goofy kind of way. She envisioned him in a black leather jacket on a giant Harley, flirting with every chick that wandered by. “What’s so funny?” she asked him.

  “You used to mock me and my ‘so-called’ powers, as you put it. When I first met you, you called me a quack, charlatan, con man, and you kept going with the insults.”

  “That sounds like I was pretty rude.”

  “You were, and alas, you are. Not all the time. Just when you need to be.”

  Well, he was the first of her friends to point out one of her faults. Guess he was either ruder or more honest, take your pick. She watched him fix Lizzie a plate and take it over to her.

  “It’s okay if she eats on the couch, isn’t it? She’s pretty neat for her age. And the sippy cup’s not going to spill.”

  “Sure.”

  McKay came back, took the stool beside her, picked up a ham sandwich, and took a big bite.

  “Show me how it works. This psychic thing of yours. Can you tell me if I’m ever going to remember? And when? Preferably time, date, and year.”

  “Now that sounds like your old self. Sassy as hell.”

  “Please, I’m serious.”

  Eyeing her solemnly, McKay finished chewing, swallowed, popped the tab on his Bud Lite, and took a swig. “Okay, if you want. We can give it a try. I need to touch you. Mind?”

  “No, unless you try to take advantage.”

  “Usually, I do try to take advantage and every chance I get. But since you’re recovering, and all, I’ll tamp down my desire and won’t jump your bones, but it’s gonna be hard.”

  They stared at each other. She rather liked this guy, believe it or not. Then he took her hand and held it flat between both his palms. He shut his eyes. She studied his face while he concentrated, but when he opened his eyes again, he didn’t look like he was ready to throw out any good news. In fact, he looked like he was sorry he did it.

  “You’re in danger. Good God, Claire, I see that same thing every damn time I touch you. Somebody’s after you again, trust me. I don’t know who, but I can sense it. You’re headed for more trouble. You’ve got to be careful and watch your back.”

  Well, that made her sorry she’d asked. Maybe he was a fraud. “Are you any good at this, or did you just make all that up?”

  “I’m good sometimes. Sometimes it just doesn’t come at all. I hope to God I’m wrong this time. You’ve been through hell and back already. It’ll probably be better if you don’t remember all the shit you’ve gone through. Trust me on that, too.”

  “Can you at least tell me who’s after me?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see a face. I felt like he’s close to you, that he watches you. You need to be very careful who you associate with until you know who’s who. You shouldn’t have let me in, either. I could’ve been him. I could’ve been dangerous.”

  “That sounds awfully sketchy and more than foreboding. And you know what, I think you are dangerous.”

  “Good. I am. Just not to you. You need to take care, I’m just sayin’. Don’t go off alone and get your pretty little butt in trouble.”

  After that, they ate and dropped the subject of her imminent danger. He told her that he was refurbishing an old Victorian house in Springfield and on his way to opening a bed-and-breakfast inn, where he was eventually going to give psychic readings in the evenings. He told her about his little girl, and it was absolutely crystal clear that he adored her. Claire wondered about the case they worked together.

  “What kind of case were we working on?”

  “Murder. Multiple murders, if you want the truth.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I’m not supposed to. Black told me the last time I came to see you that if this happened, you needed to figure things out on your own. Suits me.”

  “So I take it, the case was pretty gruesome?”

  “Oh, yeah. Wish I didn’t remember it.”

  As they finished eating, the roar of a boat’s motor out on the lake filtered in to them. Claire walked to the window and looked outside. “That’s Black. I wasn’t really expecting him. I was supposed to go over to his place tonight.”

  “That’s cool. We’ll get outta here. We just came over to fish and take a swim, anyway. Didn’t we, Lizzie?”

  McKay and Claire stared at each other. She was trying to read something into his words, in his actions, trying hard to recall what he meant to her, if anything at all.

  A few minutes later, Black tapped on the front door, and then walked inside without waiting.

  “Thought I was coming over to Cedar Bend tonight,” Claire said.

  “I decided to wrap up the meetings early and get over here,” he said, but he was looking at Joe McKay. “Hi, Joe. It’s good to see you again.”

  McKay came forward and they shook hands, and Claire watched to see if there was any hint of animosity or discord. None that she could detect.

  “Yeah, same here. Lizzie and I just dropped by to get some fishin’ in.”

  Black looked at the little girl who sat rapt in front of the cartoon show. “Hi, Lizzie.”

  To Claire’s surprise, Lizzie ran over to Black and hugged his legs. He picked her up and held her in one arm, and the child hugged his neck. So the three of them appeared to be good friends, too, all hunky-dory as could be. Claire felt a bit like a fifth wheel, a stranger butting in on three good friends, but she shook off that feeling as self-defeating.

  “We came out to fish and decided to share our picnic basket with the detective here,” Joe was saying to Black. “We got some ham sandwiches left, if you want some.”

  “Thanks, but I brought dinner over from Two Cedars. Picked up some groceries for you, too, Claire. For this week when I’m gone. I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind and fly down to Miami with me.”

  “I would, but I really do
n’t want to miss going to Jeepers with the girls. I want to get to know Monica and Nancy better. And Bud and I have work to do on this new case.”

  Black didn’t look thrilled and didn’t say anything, yea or nay. So Joe McKay filled the silence, “That’s a great place. Jeepers, I mean. A great band, lots of karaoke, and good food to boot. Especially the meat lover’s pizza.”

  “Does it have security?” Black asked him.

  “Oh, yeah. Claire’s gonna be safe as can be. They have big guys at both doors.”

  “Good.”

  They were talking around her, like she was Lizzie’s age, for God’s sake. She did not like that, almost disliked it enough to fire up her Explorer and let them discuss her in private. Who did these guys think they were, her mothers? She was an armed officer of the law. And what the hell had gone on among the three of them? Some kind of perverse romantic triangle? Did she love them both? Or neither one? She sincerely doubted either of those conclusions. If she had been stringing one of them along, which would probably be McKay, it was certainly over now. She vowed to find all that out posthaste because she was damn sick and tired of being kept in the dark. Black needed to answer all her questions. Because, truth was, she wasn’t remembering anything much and it didn’t look to her like she was going to. So, it was time to fill her in, and fill her in he would, or she would find somebody who’d do it for him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  On Friday night, Monica Wheeler picked up Claire at seven o’clock sharp at Black’s privately guarded outdoor entrance at Cedar Bend. As it turned out, Black had bid Claire good-bye earlier that afternoon and summoned his own personal, sleek, and fancy Learjet and was probably winging his way somewhere over Tennessee or Georgia, well on his way to south Florida. He hadn’t said much about Joe McKay showing up at her house or her Friday night out with the girls. He had been pleasant enough about her desire to strike out on her own without him riding along on her coattails.