More Than Memories

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More Than Memories Page 12

by Kristen James


  “Medicine? For what?”

  “He got crazy ideas. That’s all I know. He was normal when we dated, but I think he took his meds then. With Ellen, he wasn’t doing so well. He’d accuse her of cheating on him, or turning him into the government. All kinds of crazy things. Ellen became scared enough to leave him while she was pregnant. She thought he might hurt the baby, you.”

  She wondered why her mother needed to hide all those things. Was it out of shame?

  “Then she met Arnold?” Trent asked.

  “Yes. It was several years before we started speaking again. She didn’t want to hear ‘I told you so,’ and I didn’t actually want to say it. I just tried to help her, but it took time. We never did visit each other, but we called. I would have come, but she didn’t want to remember the past.” Cindy spoke with an apologetic expression, her eyes soft and almost shiny. Yet Molly was thankful she told the story truthfully. Cindy added, “She started fresh with Arnold and they didn’t want Molly knowing about Kenneth.”

  “How did my family end up here, in your house?” Molly asked. Cindy looked around and half smiled.

  “I put it on the market, planning to sell it. Then Ellen shows up one day. They took over the payments and stayed here. When they died, I left it to you.”

  “But what happened?” Molly pressed. “Why were we here?”

  “I don’t know. Ellen wouldn’t tell me. They didn’t want anyone knowing they were here.”

  “Cindy,” Trent tried to keep his tone friendly. “Why didn’t you check into it? At least find out if anything weird happened in Ridge City?”

  Cindy rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t want to know. I suspected they were hiding from Kenneth. Since it was a sore spot between us, I didn’t push her to explain. She stressed she was keeping Molly safe – that’s why I assumed it had to do with Kenneth. Didn’t it? Oh, you don’t know, either.”

  Molly shook her head, and Cindy said, “I guess I wasn’t much help.”

  “No,” Molly said, “You were. Now we have a good lead to follow.” Her words brought on a long, awkward silence. How strange that she had just learned about this Kenneth Webb and now it was possible that he caused all or part of this.

  Molly thought Cindy was about to rise and leave, but instead she said to both Molly and Trent, “Do you think he killed them?”

  How horrible. Molly didn’t want to answer. Cindy’s question voiced their thoughts and that answered it, along with their silence.

  “Molly, I regret not being a part of your childhood. When Ellen and I were girls, we talked about growing up and living next door to each other, raising our families together.” Emotion crinkled Cindy’s face, her first real emotional response since walking through the front door. “I’ve been divorced three times, Ellen’s dead. I’m glad you’re looking for the truth, and I hope you find it. Just remember the important things in life.” Her eyes went toward Trent, and her plea touched both Trent and Molly, so much they couldn’t speak. They walked her to the door, where Cindy turned and grabbed Molly in a hug. “I’ll let you decide if you want to call me or not. You have my number now. I’d like to hear about your life, and how this turns out.”

  Molly nodded, unable to speak. “I’ll call you, I will.”

  Trent shut the door after Cindy and pulled Molly into his arms, surrounding her, holding her tight and caressing her back. She tried to speak but only gasped before she started crying.

  “I know, I know.” His hoarse whisper revealed his emotion, his own state of near tears. “I know what’s most important to me, and I’m never letting go again. I never want to let you out of my sight.”

  She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, trying to hang onto him even tighter. She didn’t remember this kind of fear. Molly knew what waking up alone felt like, without any recollection of who or where she was. She spent two years getting to know her parents, trying to remember them, but she never thought she’d lose them, until she did. So now she felt consumed by the knowledge that somehow she might lose Trent.

  How much grief can one person endure? And why did she get so much of it?

  Trent kissed her hair, her forehead, and his lips found her mouth. Knowing him like this felt so natural, she stopped caring if she remembered the things before. She wanted him with her, and she had him, and at that moment, that’s all she cared about.

  He kissed her dizzy and it took concentration to realize they were standing in front of the door. She tried to wave towards the stairs but only succeeded in rocking that direction. “Upstairs,” she whispered.

  Trent paused to look at her with swirling brown eyes, trying to see through his glazed look.

  “I don’t like standing right here.”

  A smile started on one side of his mouth. He kissed her between steps until they reached the bottom of the stairs. She grabbed his hands, walking backwards, pulling him. They made it to the top, then embraced, holding each other so tight they could both feel the other’s body heat through their clothing.

  Four years of loneliness crashed through her and any thought processes ended right there. She heard him say her name between kisses, but she didn’t stop to listen. He grabbed her face with both hands and stared at her with wide eyes. She stared at his swollen lips instead of looking him in the eye.

  “Mol.”

  She knew he was asking her a question, if only her mind would kick back into gear and work. She tried to kiss him again.

  “Mol, you know I don’t want you having regrets.”

  “Trent, I—” Didn’t he see how much she needed him?

  “Mol, I can’t forget all the things you believed, and I don’t think that’s changed, even if you don’t have your memory.”

  “I’m past reason.”

  “You won’t want this later. You’ll wish you waited till you knew more.”

  “So tell me.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m trying.”

  That cleared her head a bit as she felt a sinking feeling inside her. Finally, she knew she should feel guilty, but she didn’t. “So I was making you wait.” She’d wondered many times if they’d been together that way. Knowing they hadn’t been made her sad for some reason.

  “It was important to you.”

  “What about you, now?” she asked, wishing the past didn’t have to matter so much. “You believe in things now that you didn’t when I knew you, right?”

  “It’s not just about what you used to believe. I feel wrong about this.”

  “Because I don’t remember?” she asked. Trent didn’t have an answer and they were left listening to their breathing. Bev’s mean words came back to Molly. Along with them were her doubts about herself. She knew about now, and knew she hadn’t been taking the easy way through things.

  “So I wanted to wait before, and you’re saying we need to wait now? Till we’re married, if we do?” Did she just talk about marriage? She thought a question like that would surprise him, but he came right back.

  “I need to talk to you about that.” He creased his brows and didn’t start explaining. The phone rang while she waited. And kept ringing.

  “Darn it.” He sighed. “It rang a while ago, too. I asked Mark to call me back.”

  “For what? Something new?”

  “Your neighbor. And I want him to find out about Kenneth Webb.”

  Molly sighed, too, and stepped back. “Go call him back.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He headed downstairs and heard her bedroom door shut.

  Trent picked up and heard Mark say, “Hey, there you are. Got your voicemail.”

  “Have you got anything yet?”

  “No, so far nothing’s turning up for that name. There was a Justin Atwood in Vermont that died last year at the age of seventy.”

  “Keep trying then. I have a bad feeling about him.” Trent paused, knowing he needed to be honest with his partner. “He’s had a thing for Molly for a while now, despite her efforts to convince him she’s not interested.


  “Is that where the bad feeling’s coming from?”

  Trent saw that coming. “No, I’ve seen him watching the house. I want to take every precaution. I could be wrong, but that’s better than not checking and regretting it.”

  “Alright. I’ll also get in contact with the nearest precinct over there.”

  “Thanks, Mark. There’s more.” He summarized what they’d discovered through the divorce papers. Since he wanted Mark to check into Kenneth as well, he spelled Kenneth’s name and gave the case number from the paperwork.

  “Good work,” Mark said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this before you know it.”

  Half an hour later, when she heard Trent knock on her door, she didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure why, but she just lay on the bed, waiting to see if he’d come in because she didn’t know if she wanted to see him just then.

  She glanced at the clock, realizing it was only eleven in the morning and they had all day to spend together.

  Trent opened the door. “You’re awake.”

  She rolled onto her back and watched him come and sit beside her.

  “I talked to Mark. He’s going to see what he can dig up.”

  “You think Kenneth might be looking for me?”

  He rubbed his eyes and looked out her window. “It must have been his blood on the floor in the Ridge City house.”

  That hadn’t crossed Molly’s mind yet, but it made sense. “So he was looking for revenge and killed my parents.”

  “Hey now.” Trent put a hand on her arm. She wasn’t ready for him to touch her, and he could tell. He pulled his hand away. “We can’t think like that. We can list it as a possibility, but we need evidence. More leads. Proof. We need to find him.”

  “Okay.” She sat up and rolled her neck to loosen her muscles.

  “Do you remember anyone at all that you’ve talked to in the last four years who may be old enough to be your father?”

  “A lot of men are old enough.”

  “Mol, I mean anyone that didn’t have a reason to talk to you. Not the mail man or your neighbor, but someone that came to the house, maybe to sell something. Anything like that?”

  She thought a minute, but no one came to mind. She told him as much. “Do you think I’m not safe?”

  His pause made her worry.

  “Trent?”

  “I don’t have real reason to think you’re in any danger. We still don’t have proof that your parents’ accident was anything but that.”

  She flopped back down on her back, sending her hair flying out around her head. “Seems like I’m finding things out, but I’m not getting any closer to the truth. Now there’s so many things to worry about.” Justin. Kenneth Webb. Her parents’ accident.

  “It only feels like that,” he said. “But I agree, I’m frustrated, too. I only wish I knew right now if you’d be safer here or back in Oregon. I just don’t know.”

  She stared at the ceiling while he thought things through. At last he reached to her hand and held it softly. He said, “I’m sorry about earlier. I imagine most guys wouldn’t turn you down.”

  She closed her eyes over tears, not wanting to admit even to herself that she was hurt. “I need you now. I need a friend, and I need you in particular.” Her voice cracked.

  “I’m here.” He lay down next to her, pulling her against him.

  “You won’t get weird?” When he promised he wouldn’t, she added, “We can cool things, try to figure this out. We don’t have to decide the future of the world right now.”

  “Agreed. Don’t worry about anything between us. We’ll get this case figured out soon, and we’ll get us figured out, too. But there’s nothing to worry about, okay? I’m here for you and it’ll be okay.”

  She loved him for saying that. In answer she turned into him and nuzzled closer.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trent stood outside Molly’s door the next afternoon, tapped lightly, and said, “You sure like to hide in there.”

  The door swung open and Molly stepped out in jean shorts and a pretty orange shirt with little flowers embroidered on it. “Let’s go out for lunch.”

  She breezed by him, headed for the door, calling back, “Are you ready?”

  He yanked his hat off the counter and ran after her. She’d started the car already when he stepped outside.

  “Any preferences?” she asked as they took off.

  “Is this a seafood run?”

  She laughed – a loud laugh. “No, I wanted to get out of that house.”

  “Oh.” He paused, wondering just how hard it was on her to return to the house she once shared with her parents. “Does Italian sound good?”

  “I know a good place,” she said, taking the next turn. “I thought we could relax and stop talking about this mess.”

  “Mess?” he asked. “The case?”

  “Yeah, let’s talk about other stuff for a change.” She pulled into the parking lot and they went inside. They were quiet while being seated and looking over the menus.

  She caught him gazing at her, then he caught her. They spent more time glancing at each other than talking. Yes, the case seemed like a complicated mess, and now it seemed to be getting in the way of them. The new them. He wanted to move forward. Hell, he wanted to make love to her. It’d taken all his strength the night before to not take her to bed.

  They got drinks and ordered lunch. She seemed busy people watching and losing herself in her private thoughts.

  “So can we talk about us or is that part of the mess?” He thought she could see what he was thinking about, and he should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “I ….” She fiddled with the straw in her drink before looking up at him with those dark brown eyes. “I’m happy.”

  Did that mean happy with the situation and didn’t want it to change? Or happy they were making progress?

  He didn’t know where to take that so he said, “I’m happy, too.”

  After lunch, he took her hand as they walked to the car. He searched her eyes to see if she was returning his feelings, if she could feel the huge void in his life that she filled.

  “I’m going to run back in to the little girl’s room.”

  That girl sure had a habit of running right when he wanted to say something, or hear something from her. She threw a grin over her shoulder at him as she left him standing halfway to the car. She probably heard him laughing. Yeah, that was his Molly alright.

  Screeching tires out on the road reminded him that he was in the parking lot. He turned and slowly started to the car, hearing another squeal that sounded closer, and then he saw a streak from the corner of his sight. A silver SUV ripped into the parking lot.

  He swore and dodged down behind a van because the speeding vehicle came right at him, fast. Just a second after he jumped back, a shot startled him. Other people screamed as he pulled his gun. The SUV sped to the other end of the parking lot.

  “Trent!” Molly ran into him from behind as he tried to see the SUV. “What just happened?”

  “Get down!” Spinning to face her, he pulled her close, listened for tires, and kept them both down. Her eyes saw his gun and opened wide. He touched her lips with a finger, still listening. The vehicle, he didn’t get a good look at it, turned and raced through the parking lot again, coming back. He waited till it headed for the exit on the opposite side of the lot before standing and trying to get a make.

  “It’s alright, Mol, you’re safe. Just wanted to make sure of that.” Molly’s fingers dug into his arm while other people ran from the restaurant to investigate. He pulled his cell and dialed 911. After a short explanation, he described the vehicle.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her, not missing the way she watched him with big eyes.

  “Me? Are you?” She took him by the arms and ran her hands over him, visually inspecting him too, despite the fact that he was standing and appeared fine. “Did someone just try to shoot you?”

  Trent
was busy thinking but shook his head, which wasn’t an answer but his way of telling her he didn’t know why that happened. He picked up his hat as the saw a police car pull into the lot.

  Later he sat in Molly’s living room with her curled in his lap and his arms around her. They were both quiet. Thinking. Wondering. He stroked her back to comfort her, but the event had him shaken as well.

  Finally, he said, “It could have been a random shooting, someone getting a kick. Maybe they mistook me for someone else.” He didn’t like making speculations without evidence. He’d talked it over with the local police and they’d avoided making any assumptions as well.

  “Or?” She lifted her head and met his eyes.

  He didn’t like the or. “Or I have an enemy, but I don’t think I’ve made anyone mad enough to want me dead.”

  “Trent, don’t you think this could be connected?”

  That had been one of his first thoughts, but it didn’t make sense that someone after Molly would take a shot at him. “It could be, but then this would be the first proof that something sinister is going on.”

  “What about my family tearing out of Ridge City?”

  “You’re right,” he said, exhaling. “I worded that wrong.”

  Molly sat up. “Alright, so what do we do?”

  “I’ll call Mark, let him know. The police are looking for the car I described. In the meantime we stay put.” He stood next to her, pulled her close. His very first thought after he heard the shot was to look for Molly. He couldn’t believe she ran right to him, putting herself in danger. Trent didn’t know if he was mad at her for it or touched that she cared that much.

  When the phone rang, Molly ignored it, wanting to linger in Trent’s strong and warm arms.

 

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