Holiday Amnesia

by Lynette Eason

  * * *

  Toby hurried out of the motel and climbed into his truck. He’d tried to call Lance twice while McBride had talked about the possibility of a judge signing a court order to mandate that Robin see a psychiatrist to help her bring her memories forward. Toby had nixed that idea and called Lance’s number one more time. When he hadn’t answered the third time, he’d excused himself and headed for the door.

  Before he put the vehicle in gear, he hit Lance’s number once more. It rang four times, then went to voice mail. Again. “You said to call you. I’m calling. Pick up.”

  He tried Robin’s phone. Straight to voice mail. He frowned. She had it turned off? That didn’t seem right. His worry meter cranked up. Between Lance and Robin not answering, something was wrong. He tried Trent’s number.

  “Haywood here.”

  “This is Toby. Have you talked to Lance or Robin lately?”

  “No, but he’s with Robin. I had to bring food to our drunk-and-disorderly from last night, but I’m planning to head back out to the house to give Lance a break pretty soon.”

  “Robin decided she was going to speak to Special Agent Young, but I don’t have his number. Neither Lance nor Robin are picking up and I’m got a bad feeling. Can you get out there and let me know everything’s okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll leave now and should be there in seconds.”

  “I’m about five minutes out.” Toby hung up and directed the truck to the road. Two minutes away from the house, his phone rang. “Trent?”

  “Lance is knocked out cold. Found him in the bushes, pulled out of sight. I’ve called an ambulance to come get him.” Trent paused. “I haven’t called Amber yet.”

  “Robin?”

  “No sign of her, Toby, I’m sorry. And Agent Young is severely wounded on the living room floor. Bullet to his chest.”

  Toby’s heart froze as he pulled behind Trent’s vehicle. “I’m here.” He let the phone drop from where he had it tucked between his chin and shoulder and shoved it into his pocket. Lance lay on the ground, eyes shut, face pale. But at least he was breathing.

  “Clay’s on his way here,” Trent said. “I used Lance’s phone to text him while I was talking to you.”

  Toby sank to his knees beside the two men. “How bad is it?”

  “Pulse is steady, breathing is fine. He’s going to have a whopper of a headache, but it’s better than a bullet hole.”

  “How far away is the ambulance?”

  The faint sound of the siren answered that for him. Now that Lance was taken care of, Toby’s worry for Robin shot up. Where was she? More important, who had her and how was he going to find her?

  * * *

  In the rearview mirror, Robin watched the B&B disappear as Oliver rounded the next corner. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To a hotel in a neighboring county. You can stay there until Toby can come up with another plan to keep you safe.”

  He spun the wheel and several folders on the dash slid in front of him. He grabbed them and without taking his eyes from the road, reached back to drop them into the seat behind her.

  Her mind blipped. His hands. She’d seen them before.

  Sweeping files from Alan’s workstation.

  She gasped.

  He slid a glance at her. “What?”

  She pressed a hand to her head. “I just had a flash of pain. And I left my medicine at the house.”

  “I can get you another prescription as soon as we know you’re safe.”

  But she wasn’t safe. Not with him.

  She glanced at his hands again. Saw them with the files. Holding the weapon that killed Aaron and the other man. Aiming the weapon at her.

  “Robin?”

  She blinked.

  Remembered Toby. Their times together. Everything washed through her mind, flooding it with everything she’d forgotten. Including that horrible, heartbreaking email. Everything flashed in technicolor detail. She closed her eyes and refused to let the memories derail her.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  She forced a smile to her lips. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

  “About?”

  “The fact that someone wants me dead isn’t enough?”

  “I suppose.” He let his eyes linger before snapping them back to the road.

  “I’m sorry. My head is starting to pound.” She leaned forward, pressing her left hand against her forehead. “Could you find me some pain meds?”

  With her right hand, she slid her phone from her pocket and held it next to her right thigh. She tapped the screen with her forefinger. Head down, she glanced at the screen. Nothing. Tapped again. Still nothing.

  Instantly, she recalled Oliver covering her hand with his when she’d wanted to call Toby. With that slight pressure and a subtle swipe of his finger, he’d managed to turn the phone off.

  She found the power button and pressed it. Hard. Then looked up. “Oliver? Please?”

  Narrowed eyes cut her way once more. “I’ll stop at the next drugstore we pass.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry to be a bother, I’m just worried and scared.” She glanced at him, desperate to keep him from realizing she’d turned her phone on.

  “You’ve remembered, haven’t you?”

  She frowned as though confused. “Yes. Some things. I’ve already told you that.”

  “No. You’ve remembered everything. The lab. The explosion. Me?”

  “What would you have done if I’d gotten in the car and called Toby while you searched the house?” she asked.

  He slanted a glance at her and she nodded. “You weren’t ever going to let me get that far, were you? Telling me to go was just your idea of some kind of reverse psychology. If you were willing to let me walk out of the house and call Toby, I’d have no reason not to trust you.”

  “You’re smart.”

  He pressed the brake and stopped at the red light. She released her seat belt and swung out hard with her right hand. The phone and her knuckles connected with his cheekbone and she felt the skin split followed by his bellow of pain when his head snapped back to slam against the window. She hit the lock button with her left hand and, still holding her phone in her right, pulled the handle. She tumbled from the sedan and landed hard on her right shoulder.

  Horns honked, people screamed.

  Fingers wrapped around her left ankle and she turned her back to the asphalt and kicked out with her right foot.

  Connected with his nose. Another screech of pain and she was free. She rolled from car, praying she wouldn’t get hit by someone else. Robin scrambled to her feet and ran. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, she just knew she had to get away.

  “Robin, stop!”

  She kept going.

  “FBI! Stop that woman!”

  But no one reacted other than to watch her run down the sidewalk past the stores and restaurants. She needed a place to hide long enough to call Toby. She glanced at her phone and noted that it was powered up. She lifted it to her mouth and used the voice activation. “Call Toby.”

  “Calling Toby.”

  Panting, she rounded a corner and pulled to a stop. Dead end. She bolted back onto the sidewalk and saw Oliver closing the gap. “Please, God, find me a place to hide.”

  Robin darted into the nearest store. Two customers looked up from the rack of clothes they were perusing. “Where’s the nearest police station?” she asked, panting.

  “Down the street about a mile on the left,” the first woman said, pointing in the direction Robin had just come from. She wasn’t going back that way, but maybe she could find a way to loop back around.

  Her wide eyes tracked Robin as she made her way to the back of the store. Looping around sounded like the best plan of action. She slipped through the door that led t
o the rear and found herself in a small office.

  The woman at the desk reared back at her entrance. “I’m sorry, this is a private area. You’ll have to leave.”

  “I’m running from a guy who wants to kill me. How do I get out of here?”

  The woman pointed to a barely visible door. Boxes and other items were stacked in front of it. “We just got a delivery and then I had to move stuff around while I was looking for something else and I just haven’t put them back.”

  “Help me move them out of the way, please. I can’t go back out the front.” Had Oliver seen her duck inside?

  It was very possible. She lifted the phone to her ear. “Toby?”

  No connection. Robin hit Toby’s speed dial number once again. It went straight to voice mail. She gave a growl of frustration and tried again. Same thing.

  “What’s your name?” the woman asked.

  “Robin. Yours?”

  “Beth.”

  “Thank you for your help, Beth. Can you call the police, please?”

  “Sure.” She grabbed the phone and called it in. “They’re on the way. Is it an ex?”

  “No, I saw someone commit a murder and now he wants to kill me.” She paused. “And in case I die before this gets resolved, his name is Oliver Manning and he’s an FBI agent.”

  Beth sucked in a breath and stared. Then hardened her jaw. “Let’s get you out of here then.”

  Together, she and the woman moved the boxes until she saw Beth pause. She stared over Robin’s shoulder, eyes wide, mouth open.

  Robin tapped Toby’s number one more time, then spun to see Oliver holding his gun on them. He wore sunglasses and had pulled on a dark hoodie, but she had no trouble recognizing him. However, he’d be completely anonymous when it came to any security cameras that might capture him running along the sidewalk.

  “Drop the phone, Robin,” he said. “Now.” Without taking his eyes from her, he shifted the weapon to Beth, who was trembling. “Or she dies. You won’t have time to turn it on and make a call before I put a bullet in her.”

  Beth whimpered and Robin dropped the phone onto the desk.

  Oliver snagged it and slipped it into his pocket without taking his eyes from hers. “You shouldn’t have run.” He stepped forward and placed the muzzle against Beth’s head. “Let’s go or I put one in her head.”

  Beth gave him a hard shove, and Oliver stumbled backward as she darted for the door. He swung the weapon at Beth, and Robin launched herself at him. She slammed into him even as he pulled the trigger. The bullet burrowed harmlessly into the wall and they both went to the floor.

  He recovered faster than she did, gripped her hair in a rough hand and jammed the muzzle against her temple. “You’ll pay for that one.”

  Sirens screamed at the front of the store.

  Oliver pulled her, his actions growing frantic.

  Resisting would only add to her injuries. She was going to have to bide her time in order to escape. At least Beth had gotten away. “Why didn’t you just kill me back there?” she asked.

  “I was going to, but decided that wasn’t enough.”

  She frowned and glanced around the alleyway behind the store. Empty. No one even taking out the trash.

  “Go, go. They’ll be back here fast enough.”

  “Wasn’t enough what?” she asked trying to stall.

  “Punishment.”

  He wasn’t going to let her hang back. His grip on her hair moved to her upper arm and he walked fast. She had to almost jog to keep up with his long strides. He pulled her around the side of the building as the first police car appeared at the back of the store.

  “Punishment? For me? Because you killed someone, I have to be punished for seeing it?”

  “Not you. Toby.”

  FIFTEEN

  In frozen disbelief, Toby listened to the conversation. Initially, when he’d heard Oliver’s and Robin’s voices, relief had flooded him. Until he realized that Oliver was the one behind her kidnapping.

  Drop the phone, Robin, he’d said. Now. Pause. Or she dies. You won’t have time to turn it on and make a call before I put a bullet in her.

  The words played on a loop through his brain.

  Oliver? Oliver?

  A red blinding rage shuddered through Toby. He clenched his fists and his jaw. Keep your cool and listen. He put the phone on mute so no one could hear anything on his side of the line. “Lance, I need to trace this call. Now. Fast.”

  “...because you killed someone I have to be punished for seeing it?” Robin asked.

  “Not you. Toby.”

  Silence.

  “Toby?” Robin finally said. “What does this have to do with him? I saw you kill Aaron and the other man. I saw you steal the files with all of the information about the virus. You’re going to sell it.”

  “Yes, but it was never about the virus. That was simply a moment of opportunity and I took it. It was always about you, Robin. From the moment I saw Toby kiss you on your front porch, retribution was within reach.”

  Toby’s heart stumbled.

  “Retri—” A pause. “Retribution for what?”

  “Once I realized what Toby was really doing at the university, it was incredibly easy to set him up so I could watch him fall.”

  “Set him up how? For what?”

  Toby couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He could only listen.

  The ambulance arrived and Trent grabbed Toby by the arm. “To the station. We can trace the call from there.”

  “You do realize that Toby’s done nothing but lie to you from the beginning,” Oliver said.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “He’s an operative for the CIA.”

  “Ex-operative.”

  “He told you this time, huh?”

  “Yes. And what do you mean ‘this time’?”

  “So, you haven’t remembered the email?”

  A pause. “I remember.”

  Toby flinched and sent up silent prayers as they bolted from the car and into the office at the police station. Trent hooked up the equipment in record time. Once the numbers were entered, the software went to work.

  “And you’re still going to defend him?” Robin didn’t answer. “Before the explosion,” Oliver said, “he was making you trust him, convincing you he was a stand-up guy. And you were falling for it. Every last word he said, you believed, and all the while he was just using you to get to the bottom of what was going on at the lab.”

  “Toby had his reasons for his deceit. And while I was angry and hurt, I really did understand that it was his job. I was his job.” But he’d cared for her, too. He hadn’t been able to hide that—or his devastation when she’d told him about the email.

  “And you would have forgiven him eventually.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  “When did killing me become about Toby? I thought you were his friend.”

  “We were friends. We were tighter than friends. We considered ourselves brothers. And then he led my wife to her death.”

  “It wasn’t his fault,” she whispered. “She chose to follow him.”

  “He told you about that night.” Toby registered the shock in Oliver’s voice. He grimaced. Oliver knew he never talked about that day. At least not with anyone other than Oliver—or someone he trusted and cared deeply about. Like Robin. And Oliver planned to use that against him.

  “Yes,” Robin said.

  Trent nudged him. “Got it.”

  “Where?” Toby asked.

  “His phone never pinged. Hers did. Looks like he’s stopped at a hotel about thirty minutes from here.”

  “He knows we’d trace his phone so he turned it off,” Toby said softly. “But why leave hers on allowing us to do the same exact t
hing?” He paused. “Is it a trap somehow? You think they’re really there?”

  “Maybe. If he knows it’s connected. He’s sure talking like he doesn’t have a clue.”

  “How could he not know? It’s got to be a trap.”

  “We’re going to find out,” Trent said. “They’re still talking, but not moving. I’m going to get some local officers over there ASAP.”

  “Tell them not to move in. If it’s not a trap and he really doesn’t know the phone is connected, then we don’t want to tip him off without finding out what’s going on inside the hotel room.” Toby paused. “And let them know what you’re driving and wearing. We don’t want to get shot by mistake.”

  “Should we bring in Special Agent McBride here in town?” Trent asked. “He’ll have resources we can use.”

  “I’ll call him on the way,” Toby said.

  * * *

  “This whole thing is because of what happened to your wife?” Robin asked. “I thought it was about the virus.”

  “Because that’s what I wanted everyone to think. I knew Ben was working on something at the lab, I just hadn’t paid attention to what until I realized it was connected to you. Having Alan and Hinkle at the lab that night just made it easier to hide the reason for the explosion. Adding that little piece of evidence behind just reinforced it.”

  “The paper with the virus structure on it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And thanks to your blips of memory about Alan and Hinkle and their argument, it simply cemented everything. That was incredibly helpful in throwing the investigation off. What better way to get away with something when the people investigating believe something that isn’t true?”

  “So, if I had died in the blast, then you would have just sold the virus, taken the money and retired to some beach community?”

  “Nope, I still would have kept working. You can’t spend that kind of money immediately, you know.”

  Robin shuddered.

  “And besides, I would have wanted to hang around to see the aftermath of your death. Watch my friend grieve the loss of the woman he loved.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed and he drew in a deep breath. “However, since that’s not how this is going to play out thanks to the incompetent fools I hired and your unwillingness to die, I’ve had to revamp the plan.”