A Deadly Memory

by Gwen Taylor

  Sean hesitated, not sure she really wanted him to answer. "Not pathetic. I heard how great of a job you did up here in Barton. You deserved to be detective, seemed to be really making waves. You probably were busy, lots of cases, high profile stuff that took all your time."

  She shook her head. "That's not it. There's not a scrap of me in there. Not a scrap. I wouldn't know whose it was if my name wasn't etched on that slip of wood. How am I supposed to recognize what isn't there?"

  "Don't be so hard on yourself." He wanted to tell her that it wasn't a good idea trying to force her memory, but he knew better than to offer her any advice.

  She had her hand on the door handle, and then she turned. "How did you find me?"

  "I figured you'd be here, so I called your partner. He was worried about you, confirmed what I knew I'd find. You here trying to get back your memory like studying for a test. That's not how it works, Piper."

  She got in and crossed her arms, talking over the roar of the engine coming to life. "So, now you're a doctor?"

  "No, but I did talk to one. Yours. He said that rest and time were more than likely all you needed. You are recovering from a head trauma. It's not going to get better overnight. You can't stress yourself into complying." He pulled onto the busy street and drove back the way he came in. "You will stop stressing yourself, won't you?"

  "I guess." She lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. "I'm going to keep trying anyway. There has to be something I'm missing, some piece of evidence or some note I took, something that might force a memory."

  He sighed. "Then I'll help you. But first, let's get you something to eat other than microwaveable soup and gum."

  "Okay." She nodded. "What do you want?"

  "No, what do you want?"

  "I don't know. I didn't even know how I wanted my coffee."

  She told him the story, and he laughed. "Piper, did it occur to you that however you want your coffee now is how you want your coffee, period? And whatever you feel like eating now is what you want? You are you right now. This is who you are. Not three years ago, not three weeks ago. Not even three seconds ago. What do you, the you right now, Piper in the moment, what does she want?"

  She considered it, pulling in her lips and looking upward like she might find the answer somewhere in the ether. "I want a burger and a pile of fries. With a lot of ketchup."

  He wanted to laugh. That was the Piper he knew. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

  "A little, but I think it's a start. I also want to stay here at my apartment where things are supposed to be familiar, but you were right about that not being a good idea. So, I'll come back to Nana's. I hope she isn't too mad?"

  "She was worried.” His jaw worked. “So was I."

  "Sorry. And, the two guys you had watching us…I gave them the slip. You have to understand that I needed this."

  "I do. I would have done the same thing, which makes it hard for me to tell you to let someone know your every move, but you need to be safe. I don't know any better way than to put you on twenty-four-seven surveillance unless I add house arrest."

  "Funny."

  "You think I'm kidding? I'll put an anklet on you if I have to."

  "You'd still have to catch me, Sean Hughes, and we both know I'm faster."

  He laughed. Back when she was his partner, she had been. Sharpshooter, ace detective, always out to be the best, fighting to win, achieve, no matter how high the bar was set. "Used to be. Living in the city's probably made you soft."

  "It may have." The playful tone left her voice, and she stared at the passing buildings on the downtown strip. "I wouldn’t know."

  He figured it was a subject better left alone. And she wasn't offering anymore. But her mood was much lighter by the time they'd finished their burgers. She had actually laughed at some of his stories about things that had happened since she'd been gone, things folks had done that he knew she would enjoy hearing. Her genuine laughter, her smiles that were unfeigned, even her eyes rolled in exasperation, all made him feel like he'd found Piper again.

  Without being able to stop himself, he reached out to caress her cheek. To his surprise she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. God, how he wanted her. How he still needed her touch. Life had proven it could be desperately short. Seize the moment. He leaned across the table, his hand traveling to the back of her neck. He pulled her toward him as he pressed his lips to hers. In a flash it came back, the feel of her as she kissed him back, as she parted her lips willingly as his tongue swept into her mouth. God, he missed this. Then he came to his senses and drew back. “Piper, I don’t think we should—”

  But she cut off his words with another kiss, one that made him want to take her right here on the table. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. He wanted so much more, and by the look on her face, he could tell she did too. But she wasn’t fully herself. Not yet. Every inch of him was ready to explode from the building pressure, so it took all his strength to force himself to slide back down and not take things where they both wanted them to go. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked away, and before long they were back to acting as if it had never even happened.

  And while they were sitting at her apartment's kitchen table, the orange light buzzing overhead and the street sounds blending into the cacophony of a city night, he decided it wasn’t only her touch he’d missed. He'd missed this, the easy banter, the feeling of having someone understand. He hadn't had that in a long time.

  He finished another of his stories, and she held up her takeaway cup of root beer and bumped it into his midair. "And that's how you do it. A Sean Hughes system of punishment. I bet those teens never tried to do that again."

  "No, that pretty much cured the rash spree of crop circles."

  "That's great. I doubt any of my cases were as rewarding as yours." She took a sip and then chewed thoughtfully on the straw. "Which reminds me. I could use your brain."

  "It's yours. What's up?"

  She disappeared and came back with a file. She pushed aside the remains of their dinner, spread out the file, and pointed to some of the sticky notes she had posted down the sides of the folder.

  "What's this?" He wadded up his napkin and tossed it onto the pile. "The case?"

  "Yes. If what you say is true, if this guy is trying to silence me so I won't testify, why come after me now? According to all the dates, and to Harris, or rather Philip, this has been my case for a year. The trial has been scheduled for five months. Why now? Something had to have changed."

  Sean pulled the file closer and flipped through the pages. "Your testimony, which is that you are the eye-witness to a litany of charges he's facing, is old news. Unless, like you said, something's changed. Have they offered him some kind of deal?"

  "I don't know." She rubbed her chin. "But I know someone who might."

  She screeched her chair back, and then a loud noise exploded and the terracotta pot of violets on her table burst into pieces.

  "Get down!" Sean pushed at Piper and ducked with her under the table.

  Another shot rang out. Sean heard it smack into something nearby and saw splinters of wood fly. They hit the table like a shower of toothpicks.

  "Piper, you okay?" He reached for her and put his arms around her, his head touching hers. "Talk to me."

  "I...I'm okay. We need to move."

  They crawled quickly away from the window toward the fridge, then darted into the hallway. "Now where?"

  "Bathroom." She pointed to the small room where she'd just washed up earlier and complained of the lack of light. He followed her, and leaned against the wall, glad for the dark, windowless space.

  "Shit. I'm so sorry, Sean. I keep putting your life on the line. I should have stayed at Nana's like you wanted me to. Should have had better sense." She ran a hand over her face and shook her head as she whispered, "I just…I thought I could find something to help me. Sorry."

  Sean listened to her words and then the volley of
shots followed by the sound of breaking glass.

  He needed a weapon. "I left my gun on the table. Where's yours?"

  "Purse. In the living room."

  Too far away, too many windows. Sean surveyed the apartment. "Do you have one in the apartment?"

  "I might. But I don't know where it would be."

  "Right. Dumb question." Sean eased forward and peered into the hallway to the bedroom he could see at the hall's end. "Be right back. Stay here and don't move."

  "I won't. Promise."

  He hurried down the hall, aware that there were no more shots for the moment, and quickly swept the room. He glanced at her nightstand. Piper always had a weapon near, always. The drawers gave up nothing but clothes. He eyed the large basket of potpourri on top of the nightstand and plunged his hand in. His fingers hit the cold metal of a .35 caliber, and a sigh of relief escaped him. Thank god.

  He made his way back to Piper. There hadn’t been any more shots. But she was still huddled in the bathroom.

  "I found it." He showed her the gun. "I know you better than you know yourself."

  He cringed. That was a tactless thing to say.

  He was afraid she'd be upset, but she smiled. "Who doesn't at this point? I'm glad you do. Where was it?"

  "In the potpourri on your nightstand. Old habits are hard to break, huh?"

  She gave him a look he couldn't quite interpret. "I guess sometimes they are."

  "I'll be back." He crouched at the corner of the bathroom and crawled across the floor toward the broken window. When he neared the broken glass, he picked up a chair to use as a shield and held it in front of him as he walked to the window. Nothing happened. He eased toward the window, keeping himself out of sight, and tried to determine the location of the shooter based on the bullets' path. Somewhere higher. Perhaps the rooftop next door.

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  He called out to Piper. "Where's your phone?"

  "Right here. I'm coming in there, Sean. I can't sit in here like this."

  "Stay away from the windows. Don't come any farther than the hallway there."

  "I called the police. They're on their way."

  "I guess those are for us then." They listened to the wails drawing nearer. Within minutes, a hard knock at her door announced the Barton PD.

  The rest of the night was lost to filing reports and making statements. Piper looked pale again, her waning bruises standing out against her cheekbones. Even the scabbed-over gash at her temple seemed darker in the florescent light of her tiny living room. He looked at her, really looked at her, and felt a twinge of guilt at leaving her to two strangers for protection and even for leaving her with Nana. He knew how strong she was, but here, now, she looked so much like a porcelain doll sitting on the tiny loveseat in the midst of all the chaos, so frail, so breakable.

  Tonight had taught him one thing. She was his friend. No matter their history, if she was in his future as his friend, he needed to help her now when she needed someone the most.

  "Where is she?" A booming voice cut through the chatter. A man whose toupee had seen better days waltzed in and headed for Piper. "I thought you were headed back to your hometown to rest."

  Piper rubbed her arms. "I wanted to stop here first, see if I could remember anything about this place."

  "And did you?"

  "No, not a thing. I can't remember anything. Now I'm not sure I want to." She looked over at Sean. "If we're done here, I think I want to go back home."

  The man nodded. "Take as long as you need. The case against Gamble isn't as important as your life, Adams. If you do remember anything, give us a call."

  Someone addressed the man as Chief Hardy. Sean started to introduce himself, but the chief left as soon as he'd come, followed from the door by two officers flanking him and a whiff of cigar smoke.

  Sean picked up the files they had been studying and placed them back in the box of things from her office along with her gun, which was emptied and waiting at the bottom.

  Piper slipped out of the living room. She came back with a small suitcase, the basket of potpourri, and an expression he'd never seen on her face, an expression he never wanted to see there again. Utter defeat.

  12

  The flash of memory she'd had earlier didn't really hit her until they were back at Nana’s and Sean handed her the box with the items from her desk.

  The encroaching dark made her long for something familiar, something to comfort her. Amy couldn't be that. Sean couldn't be that. No one could. She needed to focus on the case, not what she didn't have.

  She pulled the file from the box. "I think I remembered something."

  "What? About the case?"

  "Maybe. I saw a man's face, one of the men from the case file. I saw him in the dark somewhere. Like I was watching him."

  "You're sure it's a memory?"

  She thought about it. Maybe. Maybe not. "I think it was."

  "Then we'll go over the file again. And then again if your cramming method works." Sean smiled at her. "I guess I was wrong."

  "Or not. It's one of your systems I was using."

  "Really? Then you're letting me be half right for a change?"

  "For a change?" She looked over at him grinning at her. "I resent that."

  "Don't you mean resemble that?"

  "No, I don't. I let you be right lots of times."

  "Let me be." He laughed. "That's more like it. Pretend to agree with me and then go about your own way. Piper Adams one-oh-one."

  Piper stared at his lips, remembering the way they felt against hers. Missing it all too much.

  Her head cocked to the side. "Are we about to fight? I don't feel up to it." She rubbed at her temples. "I'll take a rain check—if that's okay?"

  "Not a fight." He glanced up at Nana coming back down the stairs. "Hey, Nana. Piper’s promised not to skip out on us this time."

  Piper winced at the words but nodded at Nana.

  "It's okay, darling. You two are too much alike. Headstrong and footsore. Don't let Sean fool you. We both know he'd been down that road lickety-split."

  "I would. I'm not denying it."

  Nana nodded and addressed her with a sympathetic look on her face. "You'll want to rest now, won't you? I know you're worn out. I can see by the eyes of you that you're about to sleep on your feet. A good night's rest will help everything, you'll see. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. And that, my dear, you've got on good authority. The best."

  Piper didn't feel like sleeping. She hadn't decompressed from earlier, but a yawn she couldn't suppress made her look all the more like she needed to be put to bed. And Nana's mothering was a comfort.

  "Sean, if you'll stay, I've got a pot of cocoa on to soothe the palate and the soul. I know you could use some, too."

  "I'd love some, Nana."

  "Wonderful. I'll be right out with it."

  Nana hurried to the kitchen, her apron strings trailing out behind her in the draft she created. Piper turned to Sean, suddenly at a loss for words. She smiled briefly and sat on the floral patterned sofa from an era no one remembered. He walked around the claw-footed coffee table and sat across from her in the matching chair with the dust ruffle that was as pristine now as it was in its prime. And still as ugly.

  He looked pretty awkward in the backdrop of dusty rose curtains and the chair's peony-emblazed fabric. He leaned forward and steepled his hands. "I'm staying here."

  "Tonight? I thought you were leaving."

  "I'm staying as long as you do. I'm not leaving you in anyone else's hands. You'll just slip out of them anyway, and besides, I have to protect Nana."

  "Oh." She didn't have time to process his statement. Nana breezed in with a tray of steaming mugs.

  "Isn't this cozy?" She beamed at them, handing each a mug and perching on the edge of the sofa with Piper. "My two favorite people. I'm so fortunate."

  Piper thought about the near-miss in her apartment, about the many near miss
es since her accident. "We all are."

  Sean joined in and lifted his mug toward Nana. "I was thinking I would stay tonight and make sure everything is okay."

  Nana's eyes lit up. "Oh, Sean, that would be wonderful!"

  "And maybe longer, to keep a check on Piper."

  Nana's grin widened, which Piper hadn’t thought was possible. "My two favorite people here, staying with me? I'll make us a breakfast celebration in the morning. I know just what I'll have. Oh, this will be like old times again."

  She squeezed Piper's shoulder and then went across to hug Sean before heading back toward the kitchen.

  "I'm going to go plan. Piper, I drew you a nice hot bath, and your bed is ready for you. Sean, you can take the spare room down here." She clapped her hands. "This is going to be so much fun."

  The kitchen door closed on Nana's soft humming. Piper glanced across at Sean, and for a moment, they stared at one another with equally guilty looks. Piper broke eye contact and stood.

  "I guess a bath waits for no woman."

  "Good night, then. And rest. Nana is right about that. It would do you good."

  "I'll try. See you tomorrow."

  Piper was tired enough to bypass the bath and fall onto the bed, but the thought of hitting fresh sheets in her current state wasn't inviting. The bath revived her somewhat, and the scent of air-dried linen eased her into a deep sleep.

  When morning came, she found herself feeling better than she'd thought she would. By the time she was dressed, the delicious aroma of bacon and coffee had found her nose and was dragging her down to the largest groaning table of food she'd seen since she was a kid and her mom made Thanksgiving dinner for the whole family.

  Sean was already seated at the head of the table, his plate piled to overflowing with more than one meat, fluffy eggs, and golden fried potatoes that screamed for ketchup. Piper sat at Nana's command and looked at the similar plate that appeared in front of her.

  Sean laughed. "I guess you thought I did this?" He pretended to have trouble lifting his fork and got a side hug from Nana.