by Tanya Stowe
She ran to her friend and grasped his hand. He seemed alert. “I’m so sorry.”
She clung to his hand as they carried him out. “I’ll be all right, Joss,” he promised, releasing her hand. “I’ll be all right. Don’t worry.” His fingers slid from hers.
Don’t worry? How could she not? She looked around at the blood on the cement floor of the landing, at the bullet holes in the wood and stucco outside her door. No matter how many times people said it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was. Guilt rode on her shoulder and she couldn’t seem to shrug it loose.
Dylan and the officer in charge had moved into the kitchen. Like a sleepwalker, Joss shuffled into her living room.
Glass was spread across her couch. She gingerly brushed the thick pieces off a corner and sat on the edge. Wrapping her arms around herself, she leaned over her lap.
Lord, if You are listening... I need You. Need to stop people from being hurt, stop the destruction. I don’t know who I was or what I did, but these people are being hurt because of me. Help me. Tell me who I am. Help me stop this!
Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her knees. She let them fall until a breeze wafted into the room. Cool, crisp and comforting, like the breath of God. Words came to her mind.
Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.
It was a scripture. She knew it. She couldn’t remember her past, any of her life, but God’s word echoed in her mind, telling her the truth. He had not abandoned her.
Her spirit came alive and peace filled her. She lifted her head, let the breeze brush over her heated cheeks like an unseen caress.
She was not alone. She was a beloved child of God.
She might not have a family, be a good sister or a good agent, but she was a child of God’s Kingdom. Dylan was right. The Lord had been watching over her, right from the cave-in, until now. She knew it, felt it in the marrow of her bones.
She might never remember. Her future might never be linked to her past. She might even be guilty of...something. But she was on the right path. He was guiding her and would never leave her.
She’d been clinging to Dylan. All the while the One she needed to cling to had been silent...waiting for her to remember she was not alone.
“Joss?” Captain Holmquist walked into the room.
Rising, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. His rugged features were wreathed in worry. They seemed suddenly very dear to her...like the father she couldn’t remember. Feelings of affection rushed over her, and she hurried into his open arms. He crushed her in a hug.
Glass crunched. Her supervisor released her and they turned. Dylan walked toward them.
“This is a disaster, Murphy. We’ve got to get her out of this mess. Someplace where they can’t find her.”
Dylan ducked his head. “I think I might know a spot.”
“Where?”
“My place.”
Holmquist shook his head. “How is your apartment going to be any safer than this one?”
“Not here. I mean my family’s ranch. It’s in the San Pedro River Valley southeast of Tucson. Two hours away. It’s pretty isolated, and it’s been empty for years.”
“Empty? Is it habitable?”
“It better be. I pay a cleaning company to give it a once-over every year. They just finished a few days ago. The electricity and phone are still on. I haven’t had time to call and shut them off.”
The captain frowned. “But you haven’t been there?”
He shook his head. “Not since my parents left.” He looked down. “Too many bad memories. After I graduated and moved to Washington, they put the ranch in my name and moved to California. The place has been in our family for generations so I’m reluctant to sell it.”
“But you’re willing to go there now, for me?” Joss shook her head. She couldn’t let him do it. The bad memories had to be related to his dead sister. It was too much and too many people had already been hurt. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
Dylan shrugged. “It’s the perfect place. We’ll put the word out that I’ve been called to Washington. No one will make the connection to my absence and my home in the valley.”
Holmquist nodded. “You can’t just drive out of here. They’ve probably got someone watching this place.”
“We’ll need a decoy.”
“Agreed. I’ll call Jenny.”
Joss fisted her fingers. “No. I won’t have her or anyone else hurt because of me.”
Holmquist squeezed her arm. “It’s all right, Joss. We’ll dress her in a wig and different clothes. You’ll leave in that wig and clothes. Later Jenny will come out of your apartment in her own hair and uniform, looking like any other border-patrol agent. They’ll think you are still inside. Jenny will never be in danger.”
Joss looked around at her shattered apartment...a good reflection of her life.
It was time for a change, time for her to start her new path.
“All right. I’m ready.”
* * *
The window in her bedroom was shattered, the blinds ripped apart, just like in the living room. The light on the ceiling hadn’t been hit. It shone like a spotlight on the mess, and out the open window, into the black night. Joss didn’t like the idea that everyone outside could see her. The men who did this might be watching.
Glass littered the bed, but she lifted a corner of the spread and tumbled all the shards to one side. Then she hung the heavy brown spread over the curtain rod. Only then did she go to the closet, where she found a duffel-type suitcase, beginning to throw clothes inside it.
Just as she zipped the bag closed, Dylan stuck his head in the door and jutted his chin toward the window. “I see you had the same idea.”
He pulled the top blanket off her bed and headed toward the living room. She followed and watched him loop the heavy blanket on the curtain rod to block the view.
“They’re watching us right now, aren’t they?”
“So far they’ve known every move we’ve made. Either they’re watching...or...” He didn’t finish his sentence, but he glanced at the police gathered around, talking to Holmquist. “We have to make sure we keep our plans to ourselves.”
That was a new and terrifying thought. These people...all of them...had been incredibly kind to her. Henderson had taken a bullet while protecting her. Chekowski had been knocked unconscious. She couldn’t imagine that one of them would purposely give out information to the gang.
“That’s not possible.”
He took her elbow and steered her to the bedroom. “I don’t want to think so, but we’re not taking any chances. They’re making very coordinated moves...just the right ones. It’s like they have inside information. I don’t have any proof. Just a gut feeling that we need to be extra careful. Don’t tell anyone where we’re going. We need to keep this between Holmquist, you and me.”
A shiver ran up her spine. Her legs started to shake, and she dropped to the edge of the bed. Were there truly only a select few they could trust?
Dylan moved to the door, then glanced back and lowered his voice. “Jenny is on her way. She’ll be here any minute.”
It seemed like only seconds later when Holmquist answered a knock at the door. A woman with long red hair hurried into the room. She wore a loose-fitting, full-length sundress and paisley shawl, and carried a duffel bag similar to the one Joss had packed.
The woman looked around, then rushed over to hug Joss. “It’s so good to see you on your feet.”
Joss must have delivered a blank stare, because she reached up and pulled off a wig. Beneath, her blond hair was pulled up and wrapped in a tight bun. “It’s me. Jenny.”
Joss still didn’t recognize her, but the warmth emanating from the woman wrapped around her and she smiled. “Of course.” She ducked her head. “Thank you for doing this,
Jenny...and for stocking my refrigerator. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
Jenny squeezed her arm. “Don’t mention it. You’d do the same for me.”
Would she? Everyone around her seemed so convinced that she was a good friend and a good agent. But the facts didn’t add up. Why would the gang try to make her look guilty? Did her feelings of guilt revolve around helping her brother in his gang activities?
The cold washed over her in wave after wave. Was she a criminal?
She couldn’t believe it—couldn’t fathom how she could have betrayed all of these people, who had so much faith and trust in her. It wasn’t possible.
“Joss, are you okay?” Jenny grasped her arm.
She swallowed, but couldn’t shake the horror. Couldn’t seem to break free.
Once again Dylan came to her rescue. He looped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Broke the cold freeze holding her prisoner. She leaned into the comfort of his warm, strong body. He was the only stable thing in her tilting world.
“It’s been a rough night. We need to get her settled so she can rest.” He explained away the truth, covering for her when she might not deserve it.
“Oh, honey, of course.” Jenny grasped her hand. “You’ve been through so much already. Let’s get you changed.”
She led Joss into the bedroom, shut the door and pushed her onto the edge of the bed. “You rest while I change.”
Soon Jenny exited the bathroom wearing her green border-patrol uniform. Shoulder-length blond hair brushed her shoulders. “Your turn.”
She handed Joss the sundress. Jenny was broader and shorter than Joss. The dress didn’t fit well, and she exited the bathroom pulling and tugging at the waist.
“Don’t worry about the fit. I brought the shawl purposely so we could hide all of that. And I chose the brightest dress I could find. All they’ll remember is the bright print.”
She turned Joss around. “Let’s see if we can get all this gorgeous hair tucked up, underneath that wig.”
Jenny twisted Joss’s hair, carefully avoiding the swollen knot at the base of her skull. Jenny clicked her tongue. “We’ll get them for what they’ve done to you, Joss. I promise. We’ll get them.”
But what if Joss was one of them? She closed her eyes as pain shot through her temples. By the time Jenny fit the wig into place, the ache had increased to a dull throb, and things began to blur.
Jenny wrapped the shawl around Joss’s shoulders, grabbed the duffel bag and led her out of the bedroom.
Dylan was waiting. “All right. Let’s get this going.”
He took her bag. Joss grasped the shawl and the skirt of the dress, lifting it slightly. Jenny gave her a hug and Dylan pulled her out the door. They passed the guard and she stumbled a little.
Dylan looked at her. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to let go of your arm. You need to walk free, like Jenny did. Can you make it?”
She said yes, but as soon as they left the shelter of the walls and came to the open staircase, her knees began to shake. With trembling fingers, she grasped the stair railing for support.
Who was watching? Did they have guns pinned on her right now?
Sweat beaded and ran along her spine. They crossed the grassy slope to the car. Would her shaky legs make it all the way? When she slid into the seat, a deep sigh escaped her.
“Almost there, Joss. You’re doing fine.”
She didn’t feel fine. She didn’t know how anyone watching could have missed her trembling and shaking. But they were safe in the car. Dylan turned on the ignition. Headlights flashed across the grass and bounced against her apartment windows, with their blanket coverings. The last thing she needed was a reminder of that hail of bullets zinging over her head. She closed her eyes.
“We’re headed to the police yard. Once we pull into the gates, we’ll switch cars. I want to make sure no one follows us.”
The pounding in her head was getting worse. She didn’t bother answering.
Dylan reached over the seat, gripped her hand and told her it would be okay. That voice. So deep and secure. She wanted to slip into it, wrap it around her and forget. But she couldn’t. She didn’t deserve it.
Minutes later they reached the gate into the police station. The barrier clanged behind them as Dylan pulled to a stop. “Okay, Joss. Get out and slip into the back seat of my SUV, then lie down. Stay low and move quickly.”
She followed his instructions as best as she could with her head in such agony. In the rear seat, she listened as he slid her bag into the cargo area, started the car and headed out of the driveway. They drove for a long while. She opened her eyes once or twice to watch as Dylan’s gaze moved from the rearview mirror to the side one.
“Are we being followed?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
She closed her eyes again and turned to her side, pressing against the seat. They drove on. Dylan began to sing in his low voice. “I once was lost, but now am found.” He continued to sing as the miles sped away. Some of the tension eased from her body, until one thought hit her like the blade of an ax.
If her brother built the tunnels, he would also be the one to tell them how to destroy them.
Her brother... Jason...may have helped them try to kill her.
SIX
A noise woke Joss. She sat straight up in a strange bed.
No, not strange. A bedroom in Dylan’s house. As soon as they’d reached Dylan’s ranch, she’d simply dropped her duffel and fallen into bed. The bag still sat in the middle of the floor.
The comfortable bed was covered with a well-used, quilted bedspread, in pink and white. Frilly curtains in faded pink covered a wide window and a solid-wood white dresser stood against the opposite wall. Otherwise the room was empty. No pictures nor mementos. Nothing on the walls.
This must have been Beth’s room. Once prettily decorated for a beloved daughter and sister...now stripped clean of painful memories.
Like me. Stripped clean of memories. It’s the right place for me.
Yesterday’s revelation about her brother’s potential involvement with the gang, coupled with the fact that he might have had a hand in the explosion that had nearly killed her, sat at the edge of her thoughts. She’d slept from exhaustion, but her sleep was full of dreams. More like nightmares. Images flashed through her mind.
The photo from Dylan’s file of Vibora. Only, in the dream, the snake tattoos on his arms came alive, writhing and hissing at her. Caulder laughing, his tone scathing and vicious and aimed at her. Jason hugging her, telling her he loved her and was proud of her. Then with his arm around Maria, he turned from her and walked away.
Some of the dreams seemed so real, she thought they might have happened. Were they nightmares brought on by the photos Dylan had shown her and the terror of last night’s attack, or was her memory returning? How could she know for sure?
Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed. She had not been abandoned. She could not forget that again. The misty gray wall was beginning to thin. Soon all those frightening images would fall into place. She was sure of it.
With her faith firmly in place again, she pushed the covers off and slid out of bed, anxious to leave the night behind her. The sound of metal banging and quiet conversation pulled her to the window.
Dylan and a stranger were unloading two horses from a trailer. The animals were magnificent. Tall and perfectly formed, with shining coats. A gray Appaloosa and a palomino. Two very distinct and unusual types. Dylan tied both animals to a rail, then helped the man close the trailer. They shook hands and the man drove off. When he was gone, Dylan loosed the horses’ reins from the post and walked beyond her sight.
Horses. Her heart leaped upon seeing the beautiful animals. She knew their color and breed name. Did she know how
to ride?
She wasn’t sure, but she was about to find out.
She showered in the room’s private bath and rummaged through her hastily thrown-together belongings for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. After slipping into her running shoes, she pulled her damp hair into a ponytail.
She’d barely had time to notice anything about Dylan’s home. Now she took a moment to look around at the huge living room. A large river rock fireplace with an oak mantel dominated one side of the space. A brown leather couch and love seat formed two sides of a square, with an opening facing a large TV in the corner. The perfect place to curl up next to Dylan.
In the left corner of the room, several chairs surrounded a long, rectangular oak table. A welcoming, family-sized grouping.
Tucked behind a breakfast bar with an overhanging oak cabinet, a long kitchen sparkled with bright yellow paint and curtains. Open and full of sunshine, like a kitchen should be. A deep sigh slipped out. If she had a home, she’d want it to look exactly like this.
What had Dylan said last night? The house had been in his family for generations. But like the bedroom, the living area was empty of pictures and knickknacks. Nothing provided any hint of the family who had lived here. Just like her apartment. Still, the room itself was welcoming. It spoke of home, a big family and large gatherings. Something that went deep with Joss and felt right.
She didn’t know if she’d ever had a home like this. She only knew she wanted one. She yearned for a place like this and felt more at home than she’d felt in her small apartment. She ran her fingers over the smooth river rock. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, trying to memorize every detail, every sight and smell. An image of what Dylan might look like sprawled on the couch wearing an Arizona Wildcats T-shirt popped into her mind. She forced it out with a vengeance.
Joss had already decided she couldn’t cling to him, even in her imagination. Besides, this place wasn’t home to Dylan. He didn’t want to be here at all. His life centered on his work...on stopping the men who had brought his life here to an end. The death of his beloved sister had destroyed everything. Now that Joss had seen this wonderful place, Dylan’s desire to fight drug trafficking meant more to her. If she’d had a home like this and lost it, she might be as driven.
