Fatal Flashback

by Kellie VanHorn

  “It’s been...good.” His focus shifted for a moment, as if he were thinking about other things. Almost as quickly, he turned his attention back to Ashley. Flashing her another one of those perfect, movie-star grins, he asked, “Are you planning on sticking around? I mean, after all the bad things that have happened?”

  She smiled, but her brows pulled together in confusion. Did rangers quit right away that often? “I’m planning on it for now. Don’t think they’d approve a transfer quite yet.”

  Was he happy or not about that answer?

  And the Mexican cousin... Was there a connection?

  He pulled away from the door. His gaze was cryptic as he glanced back. “You won’t regret it.”

  * * *

  Logan was on the verge of falling asleep at his desk.

  Time to call it a night. The shadows had grown long and he craved a shower and a meal. He locked his office door and headed out across the parking lot toward his house, debating whether he should check on Ashley.

  The memory of her wet hair lingered against his arm, the warmth of her body cradled against his chest. No. Work. Keep it about work. Maybe all the pain of Erin was long gone, but the memory of it wasn’t. Those months after she’d left had been some of the hardest of his life. So much joy followed by crushing despair. No way was he going to endure that kind of heartbreak again.

  He’d made it worse for himself—always aware in the back of his mind that she might call. Might change her mind once she realized what she’d lost. He hadn’t given up hope until his mom had told him Erin was engaged. The fact she’d told his family first had only twisted the knife in his back.

  Still, that was years ago now. Once he’d come to terms with reality—with God’s call to singleness and dedicating his life to protecting this corner of creation—he’d been happy.

  He was happy. Or, he had been, until Ashley showed up.

  But no matter what kind of havoc she wreaked on his emotions, she still needed his help. No harm in walking past her house to make sure everything appeared safe.

  The lingering afternoon heat was fading away with the last embers of daylight, the first stars peeking through the veil of deepening twilight as he strode into the neighborhood behind headquarters. As he approached Ashley’s house—the only one with lights on in her section of the street—he slowed. The door was ajar, someone standing in the doorway.

  It looked like...Will Sykes. Well, wasn’t that considerate of him? And such a coincidence, given that Ashley was both pretty and apparently unattached. Will sure wouldn’t have showed up at any other ranger’s house to check on them.

  Not that it should matter to me. Ashley had made it clear she wanted to take care of herself.

  Will left her house and she closed the door. Logan ducked behind a car on the street to avoid being seen, even though it was ridiculous. He should go home. Forget all about it. He had found out what he’d wanted to know. She was safe.

  But his feet wouldn’t comply. They carried him up to Ashley’s door, where he knocked firmly.

  “Just a minute!” Ashley called from inside.

  After a moment she opened the door, her smile fading into surprise at the sight of him instead of Will. “Hi, Logan.”

  He stood on her doorstep, forgetting why he was there. She was stunning, thick chocolate hair hanging past her shoulders, the ends flipped into unruly curls.

  “I...” He swallowed, striving for some semblance of professionalism. “I wanted to check on you. After what happened today.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. This woman had a knack for turning him back into an awkward teenager.

  Even more embarrassing, she didn’t look at all awkward. If anything, she looked annoyed, with her eyebrows raised and her lips pressed together. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.” She stayed in the doorway, the door partially closed against her back. “If I need anything, I know where to find you.”

  An obvious dismissal. But he wasn’t giving up that easily. “I’m sorry about earlier today.”

  “It wasn’t your—”

  He held up his hand. “Not the stream and the Jeep. I mean about thinking you were keeping information from me. If we’re going to work together, we need to trust each other.”

  Her face paled. Or was it a trick of the light? “Not a big deal. Don’t mention it.”

  “It has to be hard for you, having your memories erased and then trickling back bit by bit.”

  “It’s been...unpleasant, to say the least.” She gnawed at her lip, her gaze focused on the ground. Her smile was back in place when she looked up again. “But I’m fine. Thanks for checking.”

  Was that confusion flickering in her dark eyes? He casually glanced past her, noting the open laptop on the coffee table illuminated by the lamp’s glow. These old houses didn’t have WiFi or cell phone reception. What was she working on in there? “Have you been able to get in touch with any of your family or friends?”

  Her eyes widened a bit and she sucked in a slow breath before answering. “Um, no.” She waved a hand vaguely toward the living room. “Maybe I could use the internet at headquarters?”

  “Of course. I should’ve offered sooner.” He smiled, trying to ignore the questions swirling in his brain. Why hadn’t she asked? Wouldn’t she want to tell her family she’d made it here safely, now that she’d remembered them? “In fact, why don’t we walk over there now?”

  Her mouth hung open for a fraction of a second before she clamped it into a smile. “Sure. Let me grab my computer.” She wiped both hands against her jeans and retreated into the living room.

  Sweaty palms, a sign of discomfort. Or was she lying? If only there was a way to check her pulse...

  “Hey,” he called after her, “before we walk over there, let me check your eyes for concussion symptoms again. I should’ve done that after we got back, but I didn’t think about it.”

  She tilted her head to one side, one eyebrow quirked.

  “Yes, it’s necessary,” he insisted. “Doctor’s orders, remember?”

  “Fine.” The scowl lingered on her face as she stood before him, clutching the laptop.

  Now, to get her to lie again, if that’s what she’d been doing.

  He slipped both hands around her jaw, making sure a couple of his fingers rested over the steady thump of her pulse. All of it to better examine her eyes, of course.

  Such a beautiful color. Dark like coffee, wide and trusting.

  Focus. He cleared his throat, tilting her head one way and then the other to watch the movement of her eyes. “I’m sure your parents will be relieved to hear from you. Do you want to email or call?”

  “Email will be fine,” she murmured. Her irises were fascinating, the way they had that ring of dark around the pupil, radiating into lighter, almost golden edges. Like honey.

  Such a curious mix of strength and vulnerability rolled into one woman. He rubbed a thumb gently across her jawbone. Her pulse danced erratically beneath his last two fingers.

  When she swallowed, her throat bobbed beneath his touch. “Am I okay?”

  Logan blinked, whipping back his hands like he’d been caressing a rattlesnake. His heart hammered like it would pound its way out of his chest. “Absolutely. Great recovery. I think you’re well on your way.” He practically leaped to the sidewalk. “Let’s go, before it gets late.”

  So much for that idea.

  * * *

  Ashley could scarcely get her lungs to draw in adequate oxygen as she closed the front door. Good thing holding the laptop hid her trembling hands. Granted, she was still missing a year’s worth of memories, but to her recollection, she’d never been that close to a man before.

  Not one that attracted her like a magnet, anyway.

  She’d had boys who were friends. She’d gone on a couple of dates. But she’d been so absorbed with academics in school, and then with
her career, she’d never invested much effort in romance. Somehow it had always felt like an either-or choice. She knew a handful of special agents who managed to balance both full-time work and family, but most of them were men. And throwing kids into the mix? No thanks. Her work was rigorous and demanding—why try to add more to an already full plate?

  She’d always prioritized focusing on things she could control. Like becoming a federal agent.

  And solving this case.

  But no amount of evaluating the sidewalk would remove the warm strength of Logan’s hands on her skin, or the way he’d studied her face. He’d been doing his job—that was all—and she needed to do likewise.

  “Job. Focus on the job,” she muttered.

  “What?” he asked, a half step ahead of her.

  “Huh?” Her cheeks warmed. “Nothing.”

  Good grief. Answering his questions about her family without outright lying had been hard enough. This attraction to him was unacceptable.

  On the positive side, maybe a little communication with the outside world would be helpful. As long as her protocol for contacting Morton hadn’t changed in the last year, maybe she could access any shared files or messages he’d sent in the past couple of days.

  Logan held the door open for her when they reached headquarters. A handful of rangers and other staff members was still there, wrapping up the day’s concerns.

  “You’ll get your own cubicle in there—” he pointed to a room crammed with gray-fabric-covered dividers “—as soon as we can clear out a space. For tonight, it’ll be easier to use my office.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled warmly, grateful for the added privacy.

  It took a few minutes to connect her laptop to the park’s internet service, but then Logan left her alone. After confirming the network’s security, she pulled up the encryption program on her laptop and connected to the Bureau’s messaging system, which, mercifully, worked exactly as she remembered.

  A quick message to Morton informed him of her arrival and the damage to the rental car, but she was careful to downplay the incident as a random break-in. If he even suspected her cover had been blown, or that someone was after her, he’d pull her out before she could make the connections she so desperately needed.

  A return email arrived almost instantly.

  Contact wants to meet in San Vicente.

  Thursday, 1:00 p.m. Behind the chapel.

  He’ll find you. Go alone.

  Morton.

  Alone... Ashley drummed her fingers on the desk. That meant Morton didn’t suspect a double-cross and he was concerned she’d scare off their contact if she brought backup. Not to mention that whole issue of not knowing whom to trust.

  Logan had mentioned San Vicente—it was one of the small towns across the border. How could she get there without drawing suspicion either from him or whoever knew she was here?

  Maybe she could convince Logan to go with her and then separate herself for a few minutes. Long enough to find the chapel.

  She’d have to give it some more thought, but one way or another, she’d make this meet. For the first time in days, hope bubbled in her chest. Maybe she’d finally get some of the clues she needed to figure out how everything tied together.

  NINE

  Logan glanced up at the clock for the tenth time as he pulled a folder out of his desk. Ashley should be arriving for work any minute. He’d walked her home after she’d sent her emails last night, but he’d kept their interaction as professional as possible and she’d seemed happy to do likewise.

  No more touching.

  Ever.

  She appeared in his office long before he felt ready.

  “Hi, Logan.” She sat in the chair across the desk. She was dressed once more in her ranger uniform, her hair tucked neatly back behind her head. Her expression was one of indifferent friendliness, like he could be any old person in the office. Not someone who’d been staring into her eyes the night before. Good—that should make it easier to rebuild the wall he had to keep between them.

  “Good morning,” he replied. “How did you sleep?”

  “Well enough. Any news on the shooters at Santa Elena?”

  He shook his head, hardly surprised it would be her first question. “Border patrol couldn’t find any trace of them. The downpour didn’t help. We could send men across the border, but the odds of them finding anything...”

  “Wouldn’t be very good,” she finished for him. “So much for that idea.”

  “With no evidence of drug running, or anyone crossing the border, we’re calling it a random act of violence. Maybe even gang-related. You and I were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Is that what you think?” She raised an eyebrow, her gaze intent.

  Fishing for the answer she wanted. Tough. He wasn’t a rookie and he had to play by the rules. He shrugged. “We have nothing to go on, no evidence besides that map you won’t share with anyone else, so at this point, officially, I have to agree with the chief ranger.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “Until you can remember more, I’m not sure it matters what I think. Not much we can do, other than monitor the situation.”

  “There hasn’t been any organized crime here we might link the shootings with?”

  “Nothing beyond what we talked about yesterday. I don’t know what kind of skeletons you’re looking for, but we’ve got a pretty clean closet here. Other than a few petty crimes, the biggest dangers around here are from the landscape and the wildlife. Not people.”

  “Of course.” She flashed a small, tight-lipped smile straight from the Mona Lisa.

  Did she not believe him? Either that or, back to Logan’s original suspicion: she was keeping secrets. Just like the Mona Lisa. “What?”

  She shook her head and stared at the poster of native Big Bend plants on the wall behind him. From the unfocused look in her eyes, she was lost in thought.

  “For your training today—” he began finally.

  But she cut him off, as if she hadn’t even heard him speak. “We should look for the mine.”

  “We should do what?” He raised his eyebrows.

  Her eyes snapped to his, alert once more. “There’s a reason someone sent me that map. Maybe the only way to find out why is to locate the mine.”

  “You do realize we were almost killed yesterday, don’t you?”

  “Obviously. But since you agree that yesterday’s incident was a random occurrence, what’s your objection?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. Difficult woman. “Ashley, you clearly haven’t told me everything you know. And even this map—you refuse to take it to the chief ranger. Your house and your car have both been broken into. Somebody wants something from you, and the facts aren’t adding up. What are you not telling me?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand.” She shrugged. “I’ve told you as much as I can. If you want me to spend the day on training exercises, fine. I can take care of this in my free time.”

  “Right.” He couldn’t hold back a snort. “As if I would let you go traipsing out into the Chisos alone after all the things that have already happened to you.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, her dark eyes stubbornly refusing to yield. She lifted her chin, as if to crush any hope she might change her mind.

  Nothing for it. “Fine.” Why was he was agreeing to this mad scheme? “But I’m coming with you.”

  “Deal.” Ashley’s grin lit up the room.

  Seeing her smile made the whole madcap plan worth it. “Where do we start?”

  She spread the tattered map out on the desk between them, puzzling over the writing. “For how meticulously the map was drawn, whoever made it could’ve written a little bit neater.”

  “Rather particular about your treasure maps, aren’t you?”

 
Her lips tipped, laughter dancing at the corner of her eyes, and she pointed at an arrow drawn from the Mexican town of San Vicente across the border toward the Chisos. There was a large chunk of Spanish text beside it. “Do you have that Spanish-English dictionary?”

  He nodded, pulling it off one of the shelves behind his desk. A cascade of papers fluttered to the floor. Filling out paperwork was not one of his strengths. He handed Ashley the book and stooped to gather the loose forms.

  “You have heard of filing cabinets, haven’t you?” she asked. “Or is this park too remote?”

  “Ha, ha, very funny.” Logan shoved the messy stack back onto the shelf. “I may not be organized, but I have other virtues.”

  She flashed him another grin before turning her attention to the task of translating. He watched her work, so efficient and focused. Somehow, she managed to look as at home in her ranger uniform as she had in that fancy business suit the first day he’d met her.

  After a moment she smiled again, this time without looking up. “You can quit watching me do all the work, you know.”

  He shrugged. “There’s nothing else for me to do at the moment.” Besides, it was fascinating the way that one clump of hair kept coming loose from behind her ear, no matter how many times she tucked it back.

  “Here’s what I’ve got. ‘Chapel steps at dawn on Easter morning—first light touches the entrance.’” She glanced up. “Can you even see the Chisos Mountains from San Vicente?”

  He pulled out a current park map, laying it beside the hand-drawn one. “Chilicotal Mountain lies between San Vicente and the Chisos, but it’s a good 3,000 feet shorter, so you can still see the peaks from the river.”

  “Time for a day trip?” That speculative gleam in her eye suggested she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “We could go—” he shrugged “—but we’re about six months too early for Easter morning.”

  She held up a finger, shaking it as she spoke. “But what really matters is where the sun would have first hit the peak five hundred years ago, when the Spanish first found it.”