A Deadly Memory

by Gwen Taylor

  “These messages are both from burners which aren't capable of hacking your smartphone, but I disabled your GPS. Get a new phone."

  "Thanks." Piper took the phone. She held it at arm's length and then felt silly. "Is it safe?"

  "Yeah, for now. Unless they're as good as I am. Which I doubt. Plus, I've also installed a little thing I like to call the Ace. It will get a ping on whatever location the burner was when the text is sent, so if you do get another message, I can find that last location, triangulate it at the least."

  "Sounds great. Thanks, Ted." Sean clapped the guy on the back. "We'll call you if we get another."

  "Yes, thank you so much." Piper shook the man's hand. "I appreciate you."

  "No problem. And I'll call you if something happens." He held up a phone. "Copied your phone. I'll know when it pings on a burner."

  "Definitely getting another phone." Piper lagged behind, letting Sean ask any questions she was too upset to even think to ask. He wasn't gone a minute before her phone beeped. Her heart sped. She dreaded looking. She peered down at the text and sighed in relief. Amy.

  It was good to hear that all was well and wonderful, and even though Piper longed for a confidant, she sent only cheerful words and a happy emoji back. There was no reason to drag Amy down from her cloud. There was nothing she could do, nothing most people could do. Piper opened the last threat message. The picture of Amy was blurred, just a headshot, but there was some small detail in the background that made her wonder just where the photo had been taken. She hurried after Sean and Ted and found them in the parking lot.

  "Wait, Ted. Hold up." Piper jogged over. "I need your help."

  "Yes, ma'am?" Ted greeted her breathless arrival with a cocked eyebrow.

  "Can you make this larger, clearer maybe? I want to see if I could figure out where it was taken."

  He lifted his phone from his pocket. "Let me see. Just a sec." He pulled a small cable from his bag and climbed into his compact car's passenger side, lifting a thin laptop onto one knee as he attached the phone to the computer.

  Sean and Piper stood in silence, not looking at anything but the man's darting eyes and quick movements on the keyboard. He finally looked up and smiled. "Best I could do."

  He turned the laptop's screen toward them. The image was pretty clear. Amy's face against a brick background with a corner of a white sign to the left of her head.

  Sean leaned down to the bright screen. "Is that a parking sign?"

  Piper looked at it closely. The sight nagged at her. "No, I've seen that before."

  Images of Amy laughing, the sound of traffic, the scent of melon and grilled food. "I...I've been there. I know that place. We ate there, I think. It smells like a cookout."

  Sean snapped his fingers. "That's that sidewalk cafe on Main Street. That had to be a few days before your accident."

  "This photo's been cropped to death. This girl's face wasn't the focus. More like a corner." Ted pressed some keys and turned the screen again.

  Sean squinted. "How can you tell?"

  "Pixels, numbers."

  Piper ignored them both and walked slowly back into the station.

  Sean found her back in the break room. "Are you upset?"

  "No, not upset." Her face was tingling, her hands shaking, but not from fear. "I remember it, Sean. The melon. I was eating melon. It was a brunch or something. Lots of women I don't know, at least not that I remember, but I was there…that much I do remember. I think we were planning something for the blood moon."

  Sean smiled, the concern put aside for the moment. "That’s awesome, Piper."

  She smiled back, her heart registering his calling her Piper. "Oh my god, I think…it’s coming back." She flung her arms around his neck, instinctually…and just as instinctually, he hugged her back.

  When she pulled back, he lifted a hand to her face and stroked her cheek.

  Her breath caught. Their eyes met and suddenly his lips were on hers, his hand leaving her face to cup the back of her head, angle her mouth against his. His other hand found the small of her back, and both hers reached up to his shoulders, steadying herself from the feelings he created with his nearness.

  It was better than she remembered, deeper, more passionate than ever before, like he’d poured three years of longing into one brief kiss. It was over before she could process what was happening. Much too soon. He pulled away, but his eyes never left hers.

  "Sorry, Piper. I shouldn't have done that. Again..."

  She touched her lips and then shook off the surreal feeling that time had stood still. Sean's face was unreadable, and she was afraid to look closer and see a rejection, dislike, whatever he felt for her before gone. She shook her head. "No big deal. It was just a kiss." An amazing kiss.

  Sean backed farther away. "You're vulnerable, and I feel like the world's biggest ass."

  "No, don't." She avoided his eyes and ducked past him and out toward his office where her purse was perched on his desk.

  He was behind her when she turned. "I don't want to hurt you, Piper—"

  "But. I know that comes next. Save it, Sean. It was just a kiss, a mistake between friends. It's okay, really. I'm fine, you're fine. Let's just go back to Nana's. I'm suddenly very tired."

  He studied her for a moment. "It has been a long day, and we'll go as soon as the shift changes."

  Piper crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay."

  He attempted a smile. "How about that TV? I'll leave you to it while I take care of a little paperwork."

  "Fine." She left him standing there, wishing she could take back a few of her words, but she remembered the look on his face and lifted her chin. She couldn't take them back. He had tried to let her down easy just now, probably not an it's-not-you-it's-me line and more like an it-is-you line, knowing Sean's penchant for blunt honesty. He never minced words. And she wasn't about to swallow hers. Or her pride.

  Pride goeth before a fall. The thought had her wincing slightly. Well, she told herself, I'll just have to pick myself up.

  After all, how much farther could she fall?

  15

  Sean would have kicked himself if it would’ve done any good. What the hell was he thinking?

  He glanced back toward the break room and saw Piper staring blankly forward, her shoulders straight, her arms crossed in front of her. Every line of her body screamed for him to go away. And he wasn't about to ignore that warning after the mess he'd just made.

  He tried to fill out his report, but his mind would go no further than tasting Piper's lips, looking into her eyes that had not turned him away, feeling her hands on his shoulders.

  The soft sounds of the television drifted to him. The laugh track sounded disembodied from the rest. He tried to see what she was watching. Something black and white.

  There was no focusing on the task at hand. He pushed back his chair and walked toward the sudden sound of Piper's laughter mingling with the track. She looked up as he walked in. Her smile faltered, and she looked back at the show.

  He started to step in and heard a key turn in the station door. The officer taking the next shift waved and headed toward his desk with a handful of papers.

  Sean cleared his throat. "We can head back now. Unless you want to finish the show."

  She clicked the TV off with the remote and shouldered her purse. "No, I'm ready thanks. Let’s go."

  They left the station without looking at one another. Sean gripped the steering wheel, wishing he hadn't ruined the tentative camaraderie they'd built over the past few days.

  He glanced over, not knowing if he should say something or pretend it hadn't happened.

  Piper faced him. "You don't have to make small talk, Sean. And don't worry, we're fine."

  Fine. A woman's word that meant just the opposite. Sean considered his words. "I do want it to be fine between us, Piper. And I hope I didn't ruin our...our friendship."

  She licked her lips. "You didn't. Let's just pretend it never happened."


  He paused for a moment and responded the only way he could. "Fine."

  They drove in silence for a stretch before Sean spoke again. "I need to head back to my place and grab some things after I drop you at Nana's. Two of the officers will be there, though."

  "Don't go to all that trouble. I can wait for you to do that. There's no sense in you backtracking."

  Sean ran a hand across his stubble. It would feel good to get a shower and a shave, maybe even sit in his own recliner for a while, but with Piper there, he'd have to forego the shower. The weak spray at Nana's would have to do, but he would take the time to shave. The thought of getting two days' worth of stubble off his face carried him quickly home.

  He headed up the porch steps with her following closely behind. His thoughts turned to the night she'd shown up, and he wondered if she were thinking about it too. He started to ask if she remembered as he reached toward the lock, but a sound halted his movement. His hand hovered over the doorknob, his key just short of the lock. He eased over and tried the door. Still locked. Maybe it had been his imagination.

  Piper grabbed his arm, her whisper low and urgent. "Get back. Someone's in there."

  Another noise sounded inside. A crash. He turned and motioned for her to go back to the car. She shook her head 'no.'

  He grabbed her shoulders and bent to her ear, pressing the car key into her hand. "Pistol in the glove compartment. Stay there."

  She eyed him for a moment and then made a quick retreat to the vehicle.

  He barely heard the car door close when another noise disrupted the night. The unmistakable sound of something breaking followed by a muffled voice had him reaching for his weapon and following the sound to the side door. It was open, and he eased in, keeping close to the shadows and the walls.

  "She hasn't been here, I'm telling you." A woman's irritated voice preceded a harsh laugh from the man she'd addressed.

  "Then where is she?" The voice slurred. "Not in the hotel, was she? Was she?"

  Sean could see their silhouettes in his hallway. They were probably in his bedroom. He pushed the broken door open as quietly as possible and slipped into the alcove by the living room.

  "Did you hear something?" The man's voice took on a sharper edge. "Are you listening, woman? Did you hear something?"

  "No."

  The man's voice sounded again. "I heard something. Outta my way."

  Sean flattened himself against the curio cabinet Piper had given him.

  "See anything?" The woman's voice let him know her location. Living room. Maybe ten feet away.

  He strained to hear the man's footsteps. Closer, closer. He could hear the raspy breathing, smell the odor of cheap beer and sweat.

  Sean saw the man's face in the sliver of moonlight. The man looked left at the closet, and Sean saw his chance. He lunged forward and shoved all his weight into the man's spare tire of a stomach. The man went down hard but recovered quickly, kicking out and hitting Sean's leg.

  "Charlie!" The woman rushed in, catching Sean off guard and giving the man the opportunity he needed.

  An exploding sound so close it vibrated came from his left. His body jerked, the sick thud of bullet piercing flesh registering as he aimed his own weapon and fired.

  It hit its mark. And a loud crash followed and then more screams.

  "Charlie! Charlie!"

  Sean fell back against the curio, clutching his side. Blood wet his skin, his pulse racing, then slowing, his vision blurring. He reached for his phone and hit his speed dial. Piper's voice was panicked on the other end, her voice strained, but she waited for him to say something. She said his name again, fear coating every syllable, and he forced himself to speak.

  The only words that would come were, "I've been shot." And then he was falling, his last thought…Please, not her.

  16

  She blamed herself. Piper sat watching the ER doors like they might have the answer she was praying for.

  Her hands, still stained from trying to stop Sean's bleeding, were stiff and shaking. She couldn't be sure about the damage to his side. It had looked bad, but not as bad as the man Sean had shot. She was pretty sure the other man's chances of survival were slim. The woman had fled, unharmed. Piper could still hear her cries for Charlie.

  Piper started at someone’s calling her name. Walsh and Nana were coming down the bright corridor toward her, both their faces etched in fear and hope. Piper had to tell them she knew nothing and watch the hope shrivel.

  "I heard the man Sean shot didn't make it." Walsh pulled his phone out. "And the woman? She got away?"

  Piper nodded, not ready to talk. She had been numb since she'd gotten here, but now fear and something like rage were roaring inside her head and heart. She shouldn't be glad that a man had lost his life tonight, but she was. She was relieved and glad that it hadn't been Sean instead. Not yet.

  Walsh left them there, not saying where he was headed, but he had hugged them both, his deep voice a little broken as he promised to come back soon. Piper was honestly glad not to have to talk about it right now. She knew the questions would come soon enough, but for now, she needed to be alone with her thoughts, alone with the guilt and worry and fear. Alone with her past and present and future, all rolled up into one mess running together in her jumbled mind.

  There was no relief, no stopping the racing thoughts or her racing heart. But there was prayer. And she prayed without ceasing, her hands in Nana's, both their heads bowed. She had never prayed so hard in her life. That she knew of. No, correct that, she knew it to be true. This was the dark night of her soul, and if morning came without joy, she might as well die too.

  Please, don't let him die. Please, God...

  She searched for the right words, but she could only beg. She had promised so much in return for Sean's life, but she didn’t believe it mattered much what she offered up. Did God even hear her?

  She looked over at Nana, the calloused hands of a quilter now clasped together in prayer. Nana had said Sean would live, said it with conviction that Piper did not feel. If only she had her unshakeable faith. If anything, Piper was inclined to believe nothing would ever be okay again. Save him. Don't let this be the end.

  "He's going to be okay." Nana's voice was steady, sure.

  Piper looked up. "I hope so."

  "No, not hope, child, believe. I believe it to be so. If you believe, then it cannot be any other way."

  "Oh, Nana, I want to, but what about when it doesn't work out? My parents died, even though I believed they were coming back. They didn't. What if he doesn't make it? What if he dies because of me? It's my fault, you know? Just like then. If I hadn't been sick and needed them to come back early from their vacation, my parents would still be here. They'd be alive if it weren't for me. And now..." She trailed off, a lump choking her, cutting off anything she might say. She didn't want to hear it out loud again, not after the stab of pain that had hit her at the thought of losing him.

  She had only thought she had hurt before, but fearing that Sean might die had twisted the knife deeper, cutting at her very soul.

  "He needs you to believe for him now. That's all we can do. And if I'm wrong, and the peace I feel is another peace, it is still well. I won't believe otherwise." Tears streamed down Nana's face and she grabbed Piper's hand, her voice breaking, "My boy will be well."

  "Oh, Nana." Piper leaned forward into Nana's arms, feeling like her heart might tear itself from her chest.

  The nurse who found them that way kindly handed them forms for Nana to sign for surgery. "I'll take you to the waiting room."

  Piper eyed the doors, not wanting to leave and then followed Nana and the nurse to a small waiting room. She sat in the chair by the door, glad for its cushion but wishing she was closer, able to see those horrible closed doors, even though she knew there was nothing helpful in staring in futility at them.

  The nurse held the door. "I'll come for you when I know something."

  "How long?" Nana voiced the question
on both their minds.

  "I can't say, but it will be a while." The nurse headed for the door and then turned, "I know how you feel, I do. It will likely be a few hours before I come back. I would tell you to rest, but I know you can't. Maybe I'll have some news for you later."

  The door closed itself in her wake, leaving Nana and Piper to stare at one another. They sat like that for a half-hour until the door opened again.

  Piper peered into a familiar face and stood. Her nurse…and maybe her friend. "Lynn."

  "Hey, hon. Heard you came back to visit us." She gave Piper a quick hug and set the basket she was carrying down on the chair Piper had vacated. "I'm awfully sorry about Sean, Ms. Hughes. He's such a good man. I can't help but believe he’ll make it."

  "That's what we're counting on." Nana eyed the basket. "What's that?"

  "Snacks. And I'll see to it you all get some coffee or juice or whatever you need." She gave Nana a long hug. "I called Pastor Ray, and he's coming down to sit with you."

  "Thank you, Lynn. You're a blessing, girl."

  “I'll try to do whatever I can for you."

  Piper couldn’t stop herself. She cleared her throat. “We knew each other. From before?” It was half statement, half apologetic question. She hurried on, “I mean, I saw you with me in the photos, from the self-defense⁠—”

  “You remember?” Lynn’s face had lit up, her eyes big and round. She grabbed Piper’s hand. “I thought it best to not force anything on you, but yeah, we were pretty good friends, girl. I miss all that. I’d like to do it again, made me feel like I was really making a difference, you know?”

  She knew. She squeezed Lynn’s hand. It felt good to be with someone who had shared that part of her life and had been close to her. It might not cancel out the empty life in Barton, but it was something. “I miss it too. I know I loved it.”

  “Maybe we’ll do it again, soon as everything is back to normal.”

  She smiled and Piper nodded, her mind back on what was not normal. “What do you know about Sean? We just need to know what's going on. Not knowing is..." Piper trailed off. Not knowing was her life now. She swallowed back what threatened to be a heaving sob and turned away. She busied herself moving the basket to the next chair and sat back down. She swallowed again, her fingernails cutting deep into her palm. "I…we haven't heard anything since we got here."