A Deadly Memory Page 14

  “Sean?” His name was a breathless question. And it woke him to the other questions they’d face. Where was this going? Was this real? Where did they even stand?

  He pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I mean, I would, but you aren’t you--”

  “Right. Sorry." She drew her hands in. "It shouldn’t have happened. Again. But you are wrong about one thing. I am me. This," she indicated herself with a frustrated gesture, “this is me. I am who you see, Sean. Maybe you are the one who can’t remember so well.”

  He heard the sadness in her voice, and it made him feel worse. "No, don't misunderstand me. I'm not sorry that happened, and I don't want to pretend it didn't. Not this time, not the time before either."

  "Then what?"

  He drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I took advantage of you." He was a jerk, that's all there was to it. A jerk.

  "Advantage?"

  "You can't remember how you felt when you left, why you left, why you didn't come back. I know you say you are, well, you. But when that Piper returns, and she will, she might feel differently than you do right now. And I...I don't want to put my selfish wants before what is best for her, I mean, you."

  "What about all that talk about the me I am right now, in the moment?"

  He cringed. "I meant that."

  "I see."

  "Piper, if your memory returns, you will feel differently. You're bound to, and I don't want to complicate your decisions. I don't want to get in the way of what you truly want."

  "And you know what that is?"

  "I—"

  She averted her eyes, casting them down again, and gasped. "Sean! You're bleeding." She pointed to his gauze.

  "It's okay."

  He knew he had done some damage. He lifted his shirt and touched the wet gauze. Dammit.

  Piper blanched. "No, it's not. Do you feel like you're going to be sick? How bad does it hurt?"

  "Not too bad."

  "I don't believe you."

  He wanted to protest, but her fingers brushed his where he held his hand over the incision. She pulled back and touched her hand to her throat. "That's not good. I don't care what you say. The EMT is with Nana now. I'll get her."

  She rose and headed toward the kitchen.

  "Piper, wait." He held his side. "I don't want you to misunderstand about—"

  "Sean, it's okay." She smiled, her eyes again dark, veiled. "I understand."

  His stomach dropped. He watched her walk away, his heart pounding harder than ever, and scolded himself for another failure.

  He hoped she understood because he wasn't entirely sure he did. And he wasn't sure he ever would.

  24

  Piper knew she was dreaming. She could see herself walking down a dark alley, hear her footsteps echo and echo and echo like each one was a bullet exiting its chamber. Fire, fire, fire, her footsteps pierced the darkness.

  The place was familiar. Orange lights, large crates, the smell of oil and decay. She knew the place, even though she couldn't name it. She crouched behind a stamped crate, smelled the darkness around her give up its secrets, saw two men walk into the light. Gamble and a man still hidden in the shadows.

  The hidden man's hand extended with a briefcase. Her eyes went straight to the large ring on his left hand, the way the amber light glinted off its silver horseshoe. Gamble's face suddenly turned toward her as if he knew she was there, and then she was falling, falling from a great distance toward nothingness, a swallowing dark.

  Piper woke to the shadows still long and lingering in her room. The moon outside her window cast skeletal fingers onto the opposite wall. There was no comfort in waking, only more problems than in her dreams. She felt she had known what was happening in her dream, felt for sure that she was somehow doing what was right.

  But now, here in the present, she didn't have anything or anyone to guide her to what was right.

  If she could have, she would have turned back time and never left Mirror Falls for Barton. At least, the now, in-the-moment Piper would have stayed. Being with Sean made her realize that.

  But he may have been right. Maybe she didn't know enough about their past. Maybe she didn't know herself well enough. She wished she did. Wished her memory would come back. Wished her life would be settled. Her heart content.

  Piper stared at the ghost shadows of flailing limbs and then sat up. If something could be known, she would find a way to figure it out.

  She tiptoed down the hall, down the stairs and into the living room. She started toward her box of things when a grunt had her clamping her hand over her mouth.

  Sean was asleep in the recliner, his body relaxed, his breathing even, although shallow. She reached for the box and the potpourri, careful of the noise. She made it back to the bottom stair before he came to with a start.

  "Who's there?"

  "Me, Piper. I was getting my box."

  "Oh."

  "I want to go to the station tomorrow. The team called those numbers on that burner phone, and I'm going to listen to the recordings, see if anything sounds familiar." She held the box tightly like it could comfort her. "I know it's a long shot, but—"

  "I hope it does. I know you want this to be over. And I want it to be over for you. So you can go back home."

  Home. That word again. Piper raised her hand to her heart. Where was that? Where was home? All she knew was that it wasn't in Barton. It wasn't in some sad, gray cubicle with a sign that said, "Hang in there." Or in a sterile apartment with beige walls and nothing personal. No, it wasn't either of those places, but it did seem closer than it had before. Like the possibility of it existed somewhere out there. The hope of home.

  "Yeah, me, too." Piper headed for the stairs. "Need anything?"

  He grunted slightly but shook his head and offered a sound, a soft "no."

  "I'm here if you do."

  "I'm managing."

  Piper turned so he couldn't see the hurt. She wished she could have taken the bullet for him. After all, it had been intended for her.

  She owed him. And Nana. She owed her life to them both. Owed them the same in return. Life.

  And without her, they could have it. She was the only thing standing in their way.

  Piper listened to the recording. The voice answering the burner phone's call meant nothing to her. She didn't recognize it or any noise they had tried to isolate in the background. She played it over and over, hoping.

  Did you take care of it? The man's voice was deep, abrupt, and not clear enough on the recording to tell much. She guessed she was the "it" he was wanting taken care of.

  She looked at the file photo of Gamble and wondered if the voice matched.

  She took a copy of the recording from Ted and read the brief guesswork someone had compiled regarding the man's identity. The psych department had come up with a middle-aged Caucasian male, educated, with a heavy-set physique. There was an afterthought at the end of the evaluation. May have been a smoker.

  Gamble was a smoker, smoked cigars. There was even a picture in the file of him with one hanging out of his mouth.

  But Gamble was not an educated man. He was a crime boss who had never finished out middle school.

  She listened again to the call, listened for the tells that had made the evaluator conclude what he had. The words were clipped, terse. She wasn't sure about the sounds they isolated on the tape. She listened to those audio files next. What sounded like a desk drawer closing, the sound of papers shuffling, a tapping sound that could have been anything.

  Piper played the words again. Her instincts told her that it wasn't Gamble's voice, though she couldn't be positive.

  When she played it for Sean, he agreed with her. It somehow didn't fit the man from the profile.

  "Too modulated." He handed her the laptop he was using. "But I think I may have something. Look what I found out about that ring."

  Piper took the computer. The screen showed a large emblem that matched the ring on a black background. The banner acros
s the page said "Omegas. Fraternity. Loyalty. Honor."

  Sean pointed to the sidebar. "It's a criminal justice fraternity at State. Lots of judges, lawyers, and civic leaders call it their alma mater."

  "Someone protecting him then?"

  "Maybe someone protecting themselves." Sean sat again, his movement more fluid, less stilted. But his hand still went to his side as he bent. "If that's not Gamble on that phone call, and I don't think it is, then I would guess it's the guy you photographed him with. I think you stumbled onto more than Gamble's criminal activities. I think you may have caught a dirty official red-handed as it were. Explains having dirty cops on the payroll."

  Piper thought about the dream she'd had. Maybe it was a memory. It all made sense. She could see it again. The warehouse, the lights, the sounds. The two men. She saw Gamble's face as clearly as if he were right beside her. She heard his voice. Someone's out there. She remembered.

  She looked at Sean. Flashes of memory like still frames played across her mind. Images of that warehouse.

  "I remember being there." She stood, looking at him. "I was in a warehouse. I heard Gamble talking. That's not him."

  "The other man?"

  Piper tried to focus on the vision. "No, I only saw his hands."

  "Do you remember anything else?"

  She shook her head. "No, that's it."

  Her phone rang, cutting off whatever Sean was going to say. Piper picked it up.

  Philip. He barely got his hello out before rushing to tell her that Sally had come through again.

  "Hold on, Philip. Can I put you on speaker? Sean's here."

  She nodded to Sean.

  "Okay, what did she find out?" Piper held her breath.

  "Gamble did get offered a deal. A plea bargain for his ratting out other criminals and, according to Sally, the DA was only offering it if Gamble gave up some names of judges and cops he may, theoretically, have had on payroll."

  Her heart lurched. "Did he?"

  "Not yet. He's holding out, but the deal goes away soon. If he talks, your testimony won't matter. The trial won't matter."

  "Why hasn't he taken it?"

  "Good question. I'd say one of those names they want from him has him holding out. That, or you know, not even having to go to trial."

  "If I don't testify, you mean?"

  "Right."

  "Thank Sally for me. And thank you, Philip. Tell the chief I'll be in touch soon. My memory is starting to come back. I may be back before you know it."

  Piper hung up. Sean's nostrils flared.

  "I don't think you're ready to testify."

  "I know, not yet anyway. Maybe never. But I do have to go back to work eventually."

  He didn't comment.

  Piper sighed. "What if it never fully comes back? What if I never remember any more?"

  Sean hurried to reassure her. "Hey, it's great that you remembered that much. These things take time. You'll get there."

  Piper picked up the case file. "Maybe if I study some more."

  "No, I think you need a break. From all of it. Maybe if you relax, like the doctor said, it will help you remember. You're too tense." He glanced at the door. "I think Granny's is in order."

  "You want to go out?"

  "I think we could both use it. What do you say?" He pointed at the pile of papers on the coffee table. "For a little while. Then you can study all you want."

  Piper bit her lip. Her heart was hammering, begging her to say yes. He may not have meant it as a date, but her heart had heard it as one.

  Granny's was one of their favorite places. She wasn't sure she should let herself get nostalgic for their past. Or for him.

  "I'll let you drive." Sean was staring at her. "An offer you can't refuse."

  She grinned. "Granny's it is."

  25

  The scent of Granny's famous fresh-cut home fries made Sean's mouth water and his stomach growl. He felt really hungry for the first time in days.

  The waitress skated away with their order, and Piper rolled the window back up. "Brr. It's a little chilly tonight."

  "Feels good to me, but if you're cold, I've got a jacket in the back."

  She shivered as if on cue. "I am a little cold."

  Sean glanced back. "I would get it for you, but—"

  "No problem." Piper rubbed her arms. "Where is it?"

  "Behind your seat."

  “This reminds me of being at the old drive-in, remember?”

  She pulled his jacket into her lap.

  “I do.” He grinned. “Seems like I’m always giving you my jacket. Just don’t stink it up with your CK One this time.”

  “I did no such thing!” She grinned back, shrugging into his jacket and pulling her hands inside the long arms. "Okay, maybe I did get a little on it, like a teeny bit.”

  “Teeny bit? Nana couldn’t get that scent out after a dozen washes! The guys in the locker room called me Calvin for the rest of the season!”

  Piper laughed. God, that felt good to hear.

  She rolled her eyes and leaned into the headrest. “Well, you never forgot me, so my perfume bomb worked. Ah, good times. Thank you for giving me a second chance. I won’t let you down."

  “What?”

  “Your jacket. No perfume, scout’s honor. But I do have a little Dior on. If it rubs off, I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.”

  "Oh, no worries. I like how you smell.” Well, that was an odd thing to say, he chided himself. He cleared his throat, gesturing at the waitress skating their way. “Better roll your window back down. I think that's us."

  The food arrived, and he caught Piper eyeing his basket of fries. Some things never changed.

  "You know you want one." He dragged one through the ketchup and held it out to her. "Go ahead. I'm used to it."

  She took it with a sheepish grin. "Thanks. I should have ordered some."

  "You always said mine tasted better."

  She laughed. "They did. Still do."

  "I should make you order your own." He handed her another. "But I don't mind sharing."

  "Next time, I promise I'll get an order."

  Next time. He wondered if she was thinking of there being a next time. Because he was. It was running through his mind that he didn't want things to go back to the way they were.

  "I'll remember you said that." He bit into the burger, wiping at the escaped mayo on his chin. The burger was as good as he remembered. He hadn't had one in a long time. "I've missed these."

  Piper chewed thoughtfully. "Seems like yesterday to me."

  "I guess it does."

  "Like I was saying earlier, you know how we would come grab a burger and then head over to the drive-in out on Lakewood?"

  He nodded, not sure he trusted himself to reply. She went on, not expecting a response.

  "I loved that place. I was wondering if it’s still there?"

  He remembered how much she'd loved it. Their first kiss had been there and many that followed it. He cleared his throat. "It is. They do double features on Friday nights like always, though the popcorn is a little worse than you probably remember."

  "I don't think I ever got around to eating any."

  He glanced at her. She was blushing. He wanted to take her in his arms right there, make the same mistakes all over again, but a broken rib, doctor’s orders, and three years of baggage separated them. Along with the what-might-have-been that was up in the air between them too.

  "You didn't miss much."

  She gazed at him. "No, I didn't."

  His breath caught at her words, at her low, sweet voice.

  "I cherish those memories." She took another bite and stared off toward the long building that was Granny's. "It feels so good to be out. Like a normal person again."

  "Told you it would be good for you." He couldn't concentrate. His mind was still on her saying she cherished the memories of them together, on the popcorn she never ate. He gave her another fry. "I hope you are enjoying it."

  "I’ve
enjoyed a lot of tonight.” She smiled. “I did need to get away."

  "We both did."

  She met his gaze. He grinned.

  "You've got a little ketchup right there."

  She wiped at the corner of her mouth. "Did I get it?"

  "Yeah." He heard the disappointment in his voice and hoped she didn't.

  "Good." She wiped again. "I think this is the best meal I've had since I've been here. Don't tell Nana. She's an amazing cook, but sometimes you just need a burger."

  "I know. And I won't. Your secrets are safe with me."

  "I'd say that's a safe bet seeing as how I don't know what mine are right now. But I think Piper-in-the-moment is doing okay."

  He took in her little half-grin, the sparkle in her eyes, and lost the battle with himself to keep her at arm's length. "I think you are too. And I like her, this Piper. Not that all versions of you aren’t—"

  "I know. Me too." She laughed and reached for his hand. "This was really nice, Sean."

  A knock at the driver's window startled her, and fear replaced the fun he'd just seen in her eyes. It was a new waitress.

  "Hi, y’all. Mindy went on break, so I'll take care of you. I'm Lily. Can I get you folks anything else? Dessert? We've got sundaes. Caramel, chocolate, strawberry." She leaned forward and squinted. "Miss Adams?"

  He recognized the girl. "Hey, Lily."

  "Hey, Mr. Hughes. I am so glad to see you, Ms. Adams."

  Piper smiled. "Nice to see you too, Lily."

  "Gosh, I wanted to thank you, Miss Adams. You got me on a crazy path that I never imagined. You inspired me to take up self-defense. I study with Master Nero down at the community center."

  "That's great. What do you study?"

  "Judo. And I'm loving it." The girl grinned. "Hey, I'll be right back."

  "Sweet kid." Piper stared after the girl. "Good high kick."