“We should eat,” she said. “We’re both hungry.”
Part of being strong was getting on with the business of living. Her path going forward was crystal clear.
If survival or surrender were the choices, then she chose survival.
* * *
Liam watched the play of emotions. The crisis was passing. Emma was strong, and she was going to need that strength. There’d be good days and bad days ahead, but she’d always have this moment to fall back on.
She’d always have the moment she decided to survive rather than surrender.
He turned and walked the few steps to her bag and grasped the handle. “Are you ready?” he asked without looking up.
“I’m ready.” When she reached the truck, she tossed back her head and thrust out her arms. “Some days it’s enough just to be alive, isn’t it?”
Her topaz eyes shimmered with vibrant emotion, and his pulse stuttered. He thought of the other guys he’d worked with showing him pictures on their phones, how they’d changed over the years—from solitary hunting trips to family vacations. Would the pictures on his phone ever change?
He ducked his head, afraid the pain and longing were evident. That sort of thinking was a dead end. If he stayed, he’d have to tell her about Dallas. She didn’t know the real man. She knew the deputy—so far.
“It’s good to be alive,” he said. She’d have the illusion instead of the truth. It was better that way. For both of them. He stowed her bag, assisted her into the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel and dropped the truck into gear. “There’s a dock on the lake. We have time to stop, if you’d like. Won’t add more than fifteen minutes to the trip. The view is peaceful there.”
Part of coming to Redbird was the chance to get his head straight. He knew just the place to offer a respite.
“I’d like that,” she answered softly. “I could use a little peace.”
The route was circuitous. They’d have to pass through the town to reach the lake, then circle back for lunch, but he figured the drive would do her good. Nothing like a little fresh air to clear a guy’s head.
Slowing for a red light, he considered Redbird with new eyes. “We’ll drive through downtown before we pass by B&B row, then it’s not much farther to the lake.”
Emma rolled down the window and let the chill wind ruffle her hair. “What’s B&B row?”
He’d never been asked to play tour guide before, but he was warming up to the role. “A river cuts right through the center of town. Gives the place a different look than a lot of other Texas towns. An enterprising entrepreneur got the bright idea to dam off the river and create a recreational oasis outside of town.” He’d miss the lake when he went back to Dallas. There was nothing like casting a line on a spring day to clear a guy’s head. “We get a lot of tax income to keep the place looking nice. There are a few mansions around the lake. Summer homes for the rich who come up from Austin or drive from Dallas. But the park service also maintains five boat ramps and two fishing piers for us regular folks.”
“Sounds lovely,” she said. “You know it’s funny, I remember looking for houses on the internet, but I can’t remember why I chose to live in Redbird. Maybe it was the lake.”
“Maybe.”
Swiveling to face him, she asked, “Then it’s a tourist town?”
“Mostly. It’s crowded during the summer, although we get plenty of traffic all year round. The town square is filled with what you’d expect. Antiques shops, bakeries and a used bookstore. Quaint, Americana kind of stuff.”
“That doesn’t explain the bed-and-breakfasts. Why stay in town if there’s a lake nearby?”
“A national magazine featured Redbird as the ideal destination for ladies’ groups.” Liam hadn’t realized until now how much of the history he’d absorbed in his short time here. “The notoriety kicked off a need for smaller, homier hotels. The locals bought up some of the Victorian houses in the center of town and refurbished them. There must be almost a dozen bed-and-breakfasts. From what I’ve seen, the town gets a lot of book clubs, church groups and the occasional tame bachelorette party.”
He wasn’t normally a talker, but the light, innocuous chatter kept both their minds off their troubles.
“Seems like a busy place,” she said. “Why only a single sheriff and two deputies for all those people?”
“The town has its own police force, and we patrol the lake and surrounding areas. Land that isn’t incorporated. The average age of the residents is higher than in the cities. Not much happens around here. Haven’t had a murder in twenty years. We’re too far from the border to worry about the drug trade.” He cast a sharp glance in her direction, searching for any reaction to his words. Her expression remained curious and impassive. “Church groups and book clubs aren’t known for needing a lot of police intervention,” he continued. “Mostly it’s nuisance calls.”
“Have you lived here all your life?”
“No.” He barked out a laugh. “I didn’t grow up here. I’m from Dallas.”
That city was enormous. There was no harm in admitting the truth. There was no chance their paths were ever going to cross after this.
He was growing accustomed to her natural curiosity. While his instinct was to react defensively, he was beginning to understand that her questions were part of her need to understand and make sense of the world around her. Where he closed himself off, Emma drew people toward her.
His radio crackled, giving him a good excuse to end the conversation. While he didn’t mind her interest, he still hadn’t grown accustomed to personal questions. Since he mostly kept to himself, he hadn’t needed the practice.
“Unit 120,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“Royce Williams is calling to report a suspicious package on his porch,” Rose said.
That was the third time this month. “Ask Royce if the package says ‘Amazon’ on the outside.”
“Ten-four.” A pause. “Affirmative. The package says ‘Amazon’ on the outside.”
“Have Royce ask Barbara if she ordered something from Amazon.”
Another long pause. “Royce says never mind.”
“Ten-four.”
Emma laughed. “Does that happen often?”
“Often enough.”
“If you didn’t grow up here, what brought you to the town?”
“The job.”
He glanced at her profile and his breath caught. The wind had whipped her hair around her shoulders and brought a flush of color to her cheeks.
Getting her out of the hospital was the right choice. She was sweet and brave and vulnerable, and he wanted to protect her from anything that might hurt her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and shelter her, but all that was useless if he couldn’t see her smile. The reprieve had brought a much-needed buoyancy to her mood.
He gestured to an elaborate stone building with a cupola in the center of a well-manicured green space. “That’s the county courthouse.”
The town really wasn’t that bad, all things considered. He thought he’d miss the Dallas nightlife until he remembered he rarely went out. He hadn’t dated seriously in years. There’d been one relationship in college he’d thought might go somewhere. She’d soon made it clear that he was only a diversion before she settled down with someone from her dad’s country club. He’d been more careful to keep his feelings disentangled after that experience. He was the guy women used as a distraction, not the one they married.
“What a beautiful town,” Emma said.
“It’s all right, I guess.”
Rose’s voice sounded over the speaker, and he replied with his call number out of habit. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve got a request for a welfare check on Artie Druckerman.” Rose rattled off the address. “Deputy Bishop is checking it out, but I thought you should know, as well, because there’s more.
Apparently, no one has seen his dog, either.”
That piqued Liam’s interest “Any chance his dog is a rust-colored Pomeranian named Duchess?”
Emma made a noise, but when he glanced over, she looked away.
“That’s mighty specific,” Rose said. “I’ll ask around.”
“All right. Let me know what Bishop discovers.” He glanced at the clock. The dog was due to have puppies. People were fanatic about their pets around here. “We should be prepared for the worst.”
“Ten-four.”
Liam made a note on the pad of paper attached to his dashboard to follow up. He turned onto a tree-lined boulevard featuring facing rows of Victorian houses. Several of them sported swinging signs in the front yard advertising quaint names like Sylvan House and Peaceful Haven.
“B&B row,” Liam said. “Do you want to drive past your house?”
“Not just yet.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I keep thinking about my attacker watching me. Taking pictures. It’s awful knowing that he remembers and I don’t.”
“Then we’ll skip it for now.”
He took the curve past town and snuck a glance at her face as the highway arced toward the lake. She was staring through the windshield and wearing a look that worried him.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyebrows were drawn together, her forehead creased in thought, and her expression was hard. “There’s a connection to this place. I moved here for a reason. To be closer to something.”
His heartbeat stalled. “Or someone?”
“No. Something happened here, but I don’t know what.”
“The doctor said not to force it,” he replied, more relieved than he had a right to be. “You’ve already remembered a lot. It’ll come back.”
“I suppose. But it’s frustrating and unsettling.”
“Then let’s fill in the space with some good memories.”
He never tired of this view. The scenery changed as they neared the lake, becoming softer and lusher. The trees were taller and sturdier and planted closer together. There were times after a bad day when he’d round the corner and feel the tension drain from his body. He kept a fishing pole in the back, and sometimes he’d drop a line with no bait. No one bothered a guy when he was fishing, and he enjoyed the solitude.
Today, he didn’t mind the company.
Most people didn’t know about the dock at the north end of the lake. Even at the height of the tourist season, the area remained mostly deserted. He took the service road, enjoying the sound of his tires crunching over the gravel.
He parked and circled around to open Emma’s door, grasping her fingers to help her down from the tall seat.
“You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves,” she said. “I won’t break.”
“I know.”
He didn’t mention that he appreciated feeling useful to another person. Nor did he mention that he liked the way she leaned into him and grasped his shoulder when he helped her down, or the way her light, floral scent mingled with the breeze off the lake.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said, gazing at the crystal expanse of still water visible through the trees. “It’s like we’ve traveled to another time and place, and we’ve only come a few miles from town.”
“I know the feeling.”
In Dallas, the same distance separated million-dollar mansions from the boarded-up and blighted neighborhoods of the city. He was less than a day’s drive from his old life, but the distance might as well have been halfway to the moon. Some things weren’t worth thinking too hard about.
Clouds drifted over the sun, and a chill wind stirred up the water.
He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Why don’t you walk to the end? The dock is safe, don’t worry. I test it just about once a week when I’m fishing.”
She flashed him a grateful smile, brushing his fingers with hers as she adjusted the material.
He wasn’t a sentimental man, but there was a time of evening at the lake when the sky faded at the edges, and the noises grew hushed. People naturally drifted back to their homes for dinner, leaving the surface a glassy reflection of the sky. The water seemed to purify the air, leaving the scents surrounding him fresh and clean.
Twilight at the lake was his favorite time of day.
Letting the scenery work its magic, he gave her a few minutes of solitude before he hopped onto the dock and joined her.
“This is so peaceful,” she said, her gaze fixed on the expanse of water.
“Yes,” he replied, his attention focused on the delicate curve of her neck visible where she’d tucked her hair behind one ear.
“I almost forgot,” she said. “Deputy Bishop said you should look into case file 1701.”
Liam didn’t bother hiding his shock. “When did you speak with Bishop?”
“Last night.” She captured her billowing hair against her neck. “It was the stupidest thing. I thought the door to my room was locked, and I nearly panicked. He must have thought I was crazy.”
A burning fear welled inside him, and Liam touched her arm. “Be careful around him.”
“Bishop? Why?”
“I can’t tell you exactly.” He made a mental note to call the sheriff. Until this was over, he didn’t want Bishop anywhere near Emma. “It’s best if you rely on me and Sheriff Garner.”
“Okay.”
Grateful for her easy capitulation, he said, “We should be getting back.”
They turned from the lake and made their way to the truck. He took her hand and helped her jump from the dock to the shore. Her hair caught the breeze and snagged on the placket of his shirt.
Their gazes met and clashed, and a silent battle raged within him. He’d never felt such a confusing mix of emotions for a woman. There was passion, but there was also tenderness and caring. There was a fierce possessiveness to his thoughts that was entirely foreign.
The long-range plans he’d made for his life had come to an abrupt halt in the sweltering Dallas heat as the sirens had sounded in the distance. Even before Jenny’s death, his goals had always been work-related. He’d make the next promotion, he’d get the next pay raise. He’d put money in the bank and keep his needs simple because money meant security. His personal life had begun and ended with eating well and staying in shape.
He was old-fashioned at heart. Love meant marriage and family. He had no road map for that kind of life.
Emma reached up and freed the strands of her hair caught on his shirt. He held his breath until she turned away.
With a last look over his shoulder, he savored the moment. His life was in Dallas, not here. Even if he managed to save Emma, he’d never be able to bring Jenny back. He’d tried to protect her, and he’d gotten her killed instead. The weight of his past mistakes threatened to crush him.
“There’s something,” Emma said, tugging him back from the past. “I know this place, I feel it. Do you mind if I just wait here for a few minutes? See if something comes back?”
“Not at all.”
Memories of a night he never wanted to relive flooded his thoughts. When he left Redbird, he’d be leaving Emma behind, but he’d also be leaving Deputy Liam McCourt behind. He’d miss the man he’d created because he was starting to like this rendition of himself. Except this version wasn’t real.
The darkness he’d hoped to bury shrouded him. Leaving was better because she’d eventually see through the illusion. He couldn’t handle it if Emma thought getting close to him was a mistake. He didn’t want to stick around for the disappointment in her eyes.
She gripped his arm, her fingers digging painfully into his skin. “I can go home now.”
Her expression sent his heart pounding. “Why?”
“Because I remember now. I remember everything.”
EIGHT
<
br /> Drowning in a flood of memories, Emma clutched her head in her hands. After her startling announcement, she’d insisted on leaving at once. The scenery outside the windows flew by, and she slanted forward, as though she could speed up the insight into her past.
“We came here as kids.” She pulled her palms down her face. “This is where we vacationed each summer. We found a body. Me and my stepbrother.”
The dream finally made sense. They hadn’t gotten in trouble. The reaction had merely been a childish response to the situation. Jordan had shielded her from the worst of the horror, but he hadn’t been able to hide everything. She’d caught a glimpse of the woman’s pale, limp hands, her torn fingernails and bound wrists, before running away. Jordan’s dad had claimed he discovered the body to shield them from the attention. He’d wanted to keep their names out of the press.
“Wait a second.” His eyes on the road, Liam flashed his hand. “Slow down. A body? Like a dead body?”
Staring into the stagnant water near the dock, the past had merged with the present in the blink of an eye.
“I’m trying to put everything in order.” She’d been exhausted before, but the return of her memories had given her a renewed burst of energy. “When Rose said the name Artie Druckerman, I knew I’d heard it before. Then, when I looked back at the lake just now, everything shifted. It was like a flash of lightning. For the oddest fraction of a second, everything came rushing back. Everything. All the pieces just came together.”
“What about Artie?”
“I was working with him on something. He might have information.”
Liam radioed dispatch and learned that Bishop had checked the house and there was no sign of Artie.
“We’ll keep trying. What you’ve remembered is good. But you gotta let me catch up. Why don’t we stop someplace and sort this all out. You said you like Mexican food, right?”
Killer Amnesia Page 10