by David Archer
“Morning,” Chance said. They walked over close to where she was sitting up on the sofa and Enrico broke into a smile.
“Hey, chica ,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“Like somebody beat me,” she said. The tears that had threatened to leak out during her earlier panic attack started to brim over again. “This is so strange. Enrico, I know you but you’re so much older than I remember you being. I'm glad you are here, but seeing how much older you have become only makes me realize more how much I have lost.” She looked at him for a moment, then turned to her husband. “Chance, I don’t even know what to say to you. I understand that you are my husband, I understand that those are my children sleeping upstairs, and I can even say that there is some kind of feeling inside me that recognizes those facts, but I don’t actually remember any of you. I look at you, and it’s like I know I should recognize you, but I don’t. I look at those two beautiful little boys and feel like I'm connected to them somehow, but I just can’t remember how. And the baby? Robin? She’s so precious that I just want to hold her close to me every moment, but when I look at her and think that I gave birth to her—it’s just a blank. The memories are not there, even though the emotions seem to be.”
Chance nodded slowly. “Look, Doctor Peterson said it was going to take some time for your memories to come back. Let’s just…”
“She also said they may never come back,” Gabriella said, cutting him off. “What do we do then, Chance? What happens if I never remember?”
“Then you will start fresh and make new memories,” Enrico cut in. “What else would there be to do? Even I can see that this man adores you, chica. ”
Chance grinned. “Pretty smart friend you have there,” he said. “Grandma told me not to worry about it, because she said it’s obvious to her that we are soul mates. She said if you fell in love with me once, you’ll do it again. Maybe that’s the best way to approach this, at least for now.”
“But how can you just accept me this way? How can you just take all of this in stride?”
“Gabriella, I'm not happy about the way things are. I’d be lying if I said I was. The thing is, you are the woman I love. I'm going to do whatever it takes to take care of you, to help you get through this, and to help keep this family together.”
"Because you love me?"
"Yes. I always have, and I always will. I think I was in love with you the very first moment that I saw you."
Gabriella felt a stirring in her heart for Chance at this, but she felt a sadness at the same time. "I know deep down inside that your grandmother is probably right. Somehow, I feel that you and I are right for each other, and while I love the lovely things that you're telling me, do you understand that I can't return any of those feelings right now?"
"Yes. For right now, though, I'm just happy that some part of you is willing to admit that you think we do belong together. Believe me, that’s actually more than I was hoping for so soon."
"Then will you wait for me to come around, to start to remember on my own? I know it has to be hard for you, the way I'm putting a distance between us."
"I’ll wait,” he said. “Believe me, Gabriella, you’re worth it."
Gabriella sighed, offering him half a smile. "You are so good to me, Chance. So good and so patient. What did I do to deserve having someone like you to love me?"
"That’s my line,” Chance said. “I ask myself that all the time, about you."
Gabriella flexed her ankles and then let out a groan. "Ouch. The ankles are really hurting this morning. The doctor wasn't kidding when she talked about using the crutches as often as possible."
Enrico spoke up. “When I was a little boy, my grandmother lived with us, and her feet she said were always hurting. She said the only thing that ever helped was soaking them. Let me get you some hot water. We can let your feet soak for awhile, and if they're still sore after that, perhaps we can wrap them up again for you."
Gabriella grinned at him, then turned to Chance. “Looks like I have a couple of wonderful men to take care of me.”
A sound caught their attention, and they turned to see Grandma coming into the room. She was holding baby Robin, and Gabriella broke into an automatic smile.
“There she is,” Grandma said. “There’s your mommy.” She held the baby up so Robin could see Gabriella, sitting on the couch.
Surprising even herself, Gabriella reached out her arms. “Give me the baby,” she said. “I want to hold her before I have to get up and face the day.” She turned and looked at Chance. "Wait—what time is it?"
"Pushing six. Tommy and Andy will be up in fifteen minutes."
"Alright." Gabriella held her arms out again. "I can hold Robin while we soak my feet."
Grandma handed over the baby with a smile, then went to the kitchen to prepare a bottle. Enrico followed her, then returned a few moments later with a large, square pan full of very warm water. He and Chance helped Gabriella put her feet into it, and they both laughed when she clenched her teeth and hissed as her feet and ankles began to relax in the warmth.
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “It hurts, but it hurts good.”
"Anything for you, baby," Chance said. "Would you like some breakfast?"
She sighed, but there was contentment this time. "Just coffee for now. I do drink coffee, don’t I?"
“Yes, we both do. I’ll be right back.” He left the room and returned a couple of minutes later holding three cups, settling one onto the end table beside the sofa and passing the extra to Enrico. Gabriella adjusted the baby in her arm so she could reach out to the cup and take a sip.
“That’s delicious,” she said. “Is this the way I always take it? Just black, with sugar?”
Chance nodded. “For as long as I’ve known you,” he said. “It’s nice to see your taste in coffee hasn’t changed.”
Chance’s phone rang at that moment, and he answered it quickly. “Chance Reddick,” he said. He listened for a moment, then said, “Yes, we’ll be there.” He cut off the call and put the phone back in his pocket, then turned to Gabriella.
“That was Sherilyn Roberts, the FBI agent. She’s going to keep working with us on the case, and wants us to meet her at our office in an hour.”
Gabriella took a sip of her coffee and looked at him over the cup. “I met her yesterday,” she said. “She seems nice. I get the impression you’ve known her for a while?”
Chance grinned. “Almost a year, now,” he said. “She’s become something of a friend lately, but it wasn’t always that way. There was a time when she was determined to try to put me in prison, but then we worked together on a case that—well, I guess it just changed her opinion of me a bit.”
“Oh, really? I got the impression she likes you a lot.” She took another sip, still watching his face over the cup. “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?”
Chance’s eyebrows went up. “I suppose so,” he said. “Never really paid attention, to be honest.”
Gabriella just looked at him and said nothing while Enrico laughed out loud.
* * *
Letting her feet soak for a little while seemed to do wonders for her, and by the time Gabriella took them out of the water, they felt almost as good as new. She stayed on the sofa as the boys came down to get ready for school, and was able to smile at their antics. They were dressed already, but Chance told her the search for backpacks and homework was a morning ritual they always went through.
Grandma took Robin and chased Chance and Enrico out of the living room while Gabriella got dressed, and then the two of them helped Gabriella onto her feet and out the door. They had to take Chance's car since Gabriella's van was still at the police impound, and they arrived at the PDI offices a half-hour later. Enrico, having nothing else to do, had come along to just hang out and try to keep Gabriella company.
Agent Roberts, along with her partner, Jim McCord, was in the conference room when they arrived, putting out a fresh pot of coffee and a large box of doughnuts. Gab
riella let Chance help her into a chair, and then he brought her a cup of coffee and a paper plate with two doughnuts on it.
"What's all this for, Roberts?" he asked.
She shrugged as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Jim and I just thought it couldn’t hurt. Everybody loves doughnuts and coffee, right?"
"I know I do,” Chance said. “Thanks, I appreciate it."
The rest of the PDI team arrived not long after that, although it soon became clear that there wasn't anything new to go on.
Carol, who was sitting beside Gabriella, was trying to remain optimistic. "Well, maybe we don't have anything new just yet, but the day is only just getting started. We should be hearing from the medical examiner at some point before the day is out, hopefully with the identity of the burned body from David Lampley's van."
"And then we'll be able to build off that," Chance said. "Should we take a run at David Lampley again?"
"Not much point,” Carol replied. “Catching that boy and getting him to cooperate in the first place was bad enough. We only let him go because there was genuinely nothing left to talk to him about. Unless it turns out that the body is the same guy he sold the van to, I can’t see any real reason to bother with him again."
“What about Gabriella’s minivan?” Chance asked. “It’s still in impound. Any clues there?”
Roberts shook her head. “I had our crime lab go over it from bumper-to-bumper, but they didn’t find anything. Incidentally, it wasn’t damaged. When she was run off the road, she just got the front wheels stuck in the mud.”
“Well, that’s good,” Chance replied. “Unfortunately, it still leaves us at square one.”
Pete’s phone rang and he glanced at the display before answering. A moment later, he looked at Chance and the others, a grim expression on his face.
“That was the medical examiner,” he said. “She got an ID on the body. His name, believe it or not, really is John Smith. Cause of death was blunt force trauma, his head was bashed in.” He turned to his wife. “Josie, see what you can find on a John William Smith, lives in North Las Vegas.”
Josephine’s fingers flew over the keyboard on her laptop, sitting in front of her on the table. “Got him,” she said. “John William Smith, 1407 Cottonwood Road. He retired five years ago from one of the big casinos, he was a security guard there. Wife’s name is Cora, but they had no children of their own. They did take in foster kids for a while, however.”
“The police will be going out to notify his wife,” Roberts said. “Maybe we should head out there ourselves, see if we can find out anything about who he might have been associating with. If he was involved, the wife might know.”
Chance and Pete got to their feet. “Let’s do it,” Chance said.
Roberts nodded and turned to her partner. “Jim, why don’t you head back to the police department? Maybe we’ll get lucky and they came up with something on Mrs. Reddick’s abduction.”
McCord nodded and got up from his chair, then was gone only a moment later. Chance watched him go, then turned back to Roberts.
“He always does exactly what you tell him?”
Roberts grinned. “Of course,” she said. “Five days out of the month, he knows I'm going to have PMS. Now, when you consider the fact that I also carry a gun, would you really like to take a chance on which days it was safe to piss me off?”
Chapter 14
Getting to the address in North Las Vegas took almost forty minutes, and the three of them arrived as police officers were stringing crime scene tape around the house. Agent Roberts was first out of the car, and flashed her badge at the officer who stepped up to block her way.
“Special Agent Roberts, FBI. We were coming out to interview the woman who lives here, Cora Smith. What’s going on?”
The officer looked at her ID, then turned his eyes up to meet hers. “Hate to disappoint you,” he said, “but Cora Smith is dead. Her body is inside, and it looks like she’s been dead a day or so, at least. She was shot once in the head from behind while she sat in a chair, probably died instantly. Her husband is also dead, his body was found in a burning van yesterday. We just got the ID this morning, that’s why we were coming to talk to her.”
Roberts nodded. “Yes, I'm aware of that. We’d like to take a look at the crime scene, please.”
The officer looked over his shoulder, then turned back to her and shrugged. “I don’t guess there’s a reason you can’t,” he said. “Just don’t touch anything, the crime scene techs haven’t gotten here yet.”
“Trust me, I know the drill,” she said. She motioned for Chance and Pete to follow her inside.
The first thing that hit them was the strong coppery odor, and Pete nodded. “Yep,” he said. “At least a day, I’d say. Takes at least twelve hours for the smell of blood to permeate a house to this extent.”
“We’re lucky the weather has been cool,” Roberts said. “Otherwise, the smell could have been a lot worse. I’ve seen it get pretty bad in less than a day.”
An officer inside glanced at her ID, then pointed toward the living room. Cora Smith had been shot in the back of the head while sitting in an easy chair, facing toward the television. The bullet had passed through her head and struck the screen, splintering it.
“Doesn’t look like she even saw it coming,” Pete said. “Could be the husband did it, blew her away before he got toasted.”
“I don’t think so,” Chance said. “The house has been ransacked. If it was just a burglar, he probably would’ve waited until the house was empty before breaking in. Whoever killed her was looking for something, and I would just about bet it was something we would’ve liked to have found.”
“If you follow that line of reasoning,” Pete said, “then it’s likely the husband really was somehow involved in Gabriella’s kidnapping. If the same people killed Mrs. Smith, then it’s likely they were looking for something that might have led back to them.”
Chance looked at him. “That’s what I just said,” he said.
Pete nodded slowly. “If the kidnapper murdered this couple, there’s bound to be some sort of connection between them.” He took out his phone and called his wife, back at the office. “Josephine? Dig up everything you can find on John and Cora Smith. Mrs. Smith has been murdered, probably because of something she knew or something she had. Yeah, the house has been torn up pretty thoroughly, like somebody was frantically trying to find something. We’re going on the assumption that the kidnapper has some connection to them. We need to know everything we possibly can about the people connected to their lives.”
He ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket. “We need to see if we can get some idea on what was taken,” he said. “Look for anything that stands out and shows where something was removed. Never know what we might be able to determine from just knowing how something was stored, you know?”
“Agreed,” Roberts said. “Look closely, but try not to move anything. Eyes only on this one, people.”
She turned and started looking around the room where the body was still slumped in the chair, while Pete went into a bedroom. Chance headed toward the back of the house, where the kitchen was located, but it didn’t seem to have been as disturbed. He was about to head back toward Roberts when he spotted a narrow door and opened it.
Stairs led down into darkness, and a chill went down Chance’s spine. There was a light switch on the wall by the stairs, and he used a pen to flip it on, in case the killer had left a fingerprint on it, then slowly made his way down into a dank cellar.
The room stank, and Chance got an eerie feeling that there was something familiar about it. He couldn’t figure out what it was, but he took out his phone and turned on its flashlight to help him see better as he looked around.
“Hey, Pete?” he called loudly. “Down in the basement, come through the kitchen.”
A moment later, both Pete and Agent Roberts joined him, and he shined his light onto a spot in the floor. Four round holes were visi
ble.
“Something was bolted down, here,” Chance said. “Looks like it hasn’t been gone long. The spots around the holes are dusty except for where the legs must have been.”
“Dust is disturbed a lot in front of that area, too,” Roberts said. She looked around the room, and then pointed at the tools that hung overhead. “Might’ve been a power tool of some kind. Looks like this was Mr. Smith’s workshop, maybe.”
Chance shrugged, and Pete poked around a few seconds longer. After almost a minute, he nodded.
“Workshop,” he said. “I think you’re right. Roberts? Any reason we need to stick around here?”
The FBI agent looked around the room once more, then shook her head. “None that I can see,” she said.
* * *
"Cora Smith has been found, but dead," Josie informed the others as they sat in the break room. "Pete, Chance and Miss Fibbie are at her house, and Pete says she was shot in the head. He wants me to try to find people connected to her and her husband, to see if maybe we might pick up a lead to the kidnapper."
Gabriella stared at her. “They think it was the same person who abducted me? The killer, I mean?”
"That’s the theory Pete is working on right now,” Josie said, “because the house was ransacked like somebody was looking for something. I guess it’s up to us to figure out what that was."
She grabbed her computer and started wheeling herself to her office to get to work, leaving Gabriella, Enrico, Tina and Carol to talk further.
“Don’t let this get you down,” Enrico said. “Whatever the Smith couple were doing with your kidnapper, it isn’t your fault, Gabriella.”
Gabriella gave him a sad smile. “I guess you really do know me, don’t you? You could tell from my face what I was thinking?”
Carol smiled and nodded. “Of course he can,” she said. “You’re one of those people who often takes the blame for everything around them. If these people were involved with the kidnapper, that has nothing to do with you.”