When Memory Fails

by L C Hayden

  “Go on.”

  “I plan to sneak into the cabin and shoot Bronson before he knows what hit him. You’ll probably kill the Hermit.”

  “Probably.”

  “Then why blow the house?”

  “In case The Ledger is there. If I can’t have it, nobody can.”

  Chapter 32

  The pines and birch crowded on either side of Bronson as he scrambled toward the deserted town below. His muscles tingled as if on fire, and his lungs screamed, begging him to slow down. Instead, he increased his pace, his eyes on the obstacles in his path. Now and then, he’d raise his sight keeping Cricket at bay. By the way Cricket paced and kept scanning the hill, Bronson knew Cricket expected him.

  A stitch at his side forced Bronson to pause to catch his breath. As he did, Cricket turned, glanced up, and locked eyes on Bronson.

  Bronson bolted toward the nearest thick pine trunk and froze, sure that Cricket had spotted him. He wanted to sneak a peek to reassure himself that he hadn’t been made. Bronson took a deep breath, forcing his nerves to calm down. He wanted to know now, immediately, if Cricket knew of his location, but patience, a virtue he had acquired during his years as a detective, ordered him to wait.

  Slowly count to five, and then access your new situation.

  One…two…

  He took another deep breath.

  Three…four… Here I go. Get ready.

  Five…

  He squatted and peeked around the tree’s trunk, his fear confirmed. Cricket stood ramrod straight, gun raised as he scanned the area where Bronson should be. Bronson could wait, or he could make a wider loop and still surprise him. He could even shoot him, but that was something he’d do only as a last resort. Besides, if Cricket died, Bronson wouldn’t know what all this was about. Bronson needed Cricket alive. He needed answers.

  Below him, Cricket stopped scanning and pointed his gun to the exact spot Bronson hid.

  Instincts drove Bronson from a contemplative and analytical mode to one of survival. Cricket pulled the trigger, and that jolted Bronson into action. Directly above him, the road snaked steeply upward, and then crested, providing the perfect place from which to return gunfire.

  Bronson half-crawled, half-ran up the hill. At least the gunfire from below had ceased. Maybe Cricket had just been shooting to shoot. Maybe he really didn’t know where Bronson was.

  Bronson cursed himself for wasting time. The few minutes he had spent going back up the hill, he should have spent going the opposite direction. He stopped to re-evaluate his situation. Directly below him, a faint path slithered down, often at steep angles, but at least the pines protected him from being spotted. He took another deep breath, ignored his pounding heart, and continued with his descent.

  He didn’t stop until he reached the foot of the hill. This was the iffy part. From here on, the forest wouldn’t provide any protection. The buildings were too far away to serve as a safety factor. He’d be out in the open.

  Several yards down the road, Cricket continued to stare at the mountain, his head swiveling as he searched for Bronson.

  Bronson allowed himself one mental pat on the back. Cricket obviously didn’t realize Bronson was now near the town instead of up in the mountain. Holding on to that small piece of luck, Bronson bolted toward the buildings with a speed of a horse escaping a burning barn.

  A shot rang out.

  Bronson dropped to the ground.

  So did Cricket.

  Chapter 33

  The echo of the shot traveled up the hill and back down again, filling every inch of air with its powerful blast.

  For a second, Eddie froze. A shot had been fired. That could only mean that someone was dead. Bronson? Cricket? Maybe even Bobbi?

  He should turn back. If Bobbi was in trouble, he could help. He started to move and stopped. He cupped his hands and placed them on his chin. She had given him specific instructions. He was expected to obey her. But why?

  Had he not learned anything from Cricket?

  March to your own beat. Do as you want.

  From where Eddie stood, he could see the Hermit’s house. While everyone was busy down at the bottom of the hill, he could surprise the Hermit. He’d tie him up again and torture him. Maybe even show him the explosives. That would make him talk, and he, the Mighty Edward Fin, would be the sole owner of the secret of The Ledger.

  Papa Lazzarone would realize that he—not Bobbi—should be the ruler of the great Lazzarone power and wealth. Dream fulfilled.

  Eddie’s lips formed a grin as he hurried toward the Hermit’s house.

  * * *

  Even before Bronson hit the ground, he held the gun aimed at the direction from which the shot had originated. He scanned the area.

  A gentle breeze caused the branches to sway, but nothing else moved. The eerie silence that filled the area sent a chill running down Bronson’s back. He knew he was an easy target as long as he remained glued to the spot. He belly-crawled toward what once had been someone’s home, but now time and weather had reduced it to nothing more than crumbling walls.

  Down the street, three blocks away, Bronson saw Cricket’s still body. Judging from the pool of blood that surrounded him, chances were he was dead. Someone had shot him. Who? Why?

  “Bronson.” A woman’s voice, weak and timid, rang out. “Where…are you? I’m scared.”

  Bronson remained hidden from view, but he purposely projected his voice to let her know he meant business. “Throw out your weapon, and come out with your hands up.”

  A moment of silence filled the area, followed by a thump as the gun hit the ground. “I’m coming out.” Bobbi spit on her hands, bent down, rubbed some dirt on them, then on her face. That would make him think she’d been crying. The fool. She put her timid voice on. “Don’t shoot.” She raised her arms and stepped out. “Brooonson…I’m so…s-scared.”

  Bronson slipped the gun into his pocket, surprised to see Bobbi. He moved away from the wall that had protected him. “What are you doing here?”

  “After you all left…” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “I heard that Eddie Fin was…was coming here. I tried calling, but there was no answer.” She cleared her throat. “I had to come, to warn you. I just had to.”

  Bronson took a few steps toward her. “Who is Eddie Fin?”

  Bobbi shrugged, and her chin quivered. “I guess you could say he’s my competitor. He—he feels a woman—mainly me—shouldn’t head a great enterprise like the Lazzarone Empire.” She bit her lip. “He feels he’s better qualified.” She waved her hand as though dismissing the thought. “I’m…sorry.” She looked up, and tears filled her eyes. “I’ve never…killed someone.” She stood on wobbly legs, and she seemed ready to plummet to the ground.

  Bronson rushed to her side and held her up.

  “My God! I killed him. Didn’t I? I killed him!” Her voice shrilled like startled birds in flight.

  “Why did you kill him?”

  “He was going to shoot you. I had no choice.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not okay. I keep seeing him lying in that pool of blood. I can’t get that image off my mind.” A deep sigh shook her body. “Will I ever…wipe that memory off my mind?”

  Bronson looked away. “It will haunt you for a very long time. Take a deep breath.”

  She did.

  Up to now, Bronson had his arm around her, giving her support. He slowly released her. “Count slowly to ten, and tell yourself you had no choice. You did the right thing. You understand?”

  Tears ran down Bobbi’s cheeks. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened her eyes, she flashed Bronson a weak smile. “I’m fine now. Or at least better. We have important things to do. I’ll try—no, I won’t hold us back.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out through her lips.

  Bronson patted her shoulder. “Good for you.” He stepped away from her, bent down, retrieved the gun, and checked on Cricket. He took out his
handkerchief, covered the dead man’s face, and headed back to Bobbi. “This Eddie. Where is he now?”

  Bobbi pointed with her head toward the woods. “Out there somewhere. I heard him tell…tell…” Again, she pointed with her head. “That man—”

  “Cricket.”

  “Yeah, Cricket. Eddie told Cricket to stay here and kill you, and that in the meantime, he was going to pay the Hermit a visit. We need to get over there and rescue him.”

  Bronson scanned the area. “Agree, but first, we need to find Daniel and Sandy.”

  “They’re fine.”

  Bronson cocked his head.

  “I didn’t come alone,” Bobbi said. “Pablo—do you remember him?”

  Bronson nodded.

  “He brought me here. While searching for you, we bumped into Sandy and Daniel. We explained the situation to them. They got in the car with Pablo, and they’re heading back to town. As soon as they get a cell connection, they’re going to call the police. In the meantime, I’m stranded here. I’m sure glad I found you.”

  A part of Bronson felt relief. Daniel and Sandy were fine and out of danger. The other part wished he could see that they were safe. “You’ll be okay to make the climb to the Hermit’s house?”

  Bobbi nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll take you with me, but you will do exactly what I tell you. No questions asked. Only reason I’m taking you is because I can’t leave you alone as long as Eddie is running around loose.”

  “I understand. I won’t get in the way. Promise.”

  Bronson glanced at the hill that concealed the Hermit’s house. Last thing he wanted to do right now was climb it one more time. But he had no choice. “In that case, let’s go.”

  Chapter 34

  Eddie could see the Hermit’s house from where he stood. In fact, he could even see the Hermit himself. He sat on his porch, the dog by his side, and a rifle in his hands. No way would he be able to sneak up on him.

  He stood still, considering other possibilities. If he approached from behind, he’d be able to surprise him. But one big problem existed with that plan: that damn dog. As long as it sat there by his master, the element of surprise would be erased. He tried to think of an alternate plan.

  Then, as if a prayer had been answered, a rabbit crept out of the woods, heading down the path that led to the Hermit’s house.

  Honey jumped to her feet and stood at attention. She looked up at the Hermit, and then back at the rabbit that moved from shrub to shrub with no sense of urgency. The wind shifted, and the rabbit twitched its nose, possibly catching the dog’s scent. It scurried back toward the safety of the forest.

  Honey, with the speed that only a Basenji could muster, sped toward the rabbit.

  Eddie smiled at his stroke of unexpected good luck. “Good dog. Good rabbit.”

  He left the dirt path that led to the Hermit’s house, creating his own. It would take him longer to reach his destination, but the element of surprise more than made up for that.

  * * *

  Both Bobbi and Bronson stopped to catch their breath. Up ahead, the dirt path curved to the right. The Hermit’s house would be visible from there. Up to this point, Bobbi had easily kept pace with Bronson. In fact, he wondered if maybe he was the one who was holding them back. Their climb has been a silent one, each focusing on what lay ahead.

  Bobbi was the first to break the silence. “We need to talk.”

  Bronson slowed down but did not stop. “Go on.”

  “I know you said I should wait out here while you go in and check on the Hermit.”

  Bronson inwardly frowned. He knew what was coming. “Go on.”

  “There are two things you need to know.” Bobbi raised her index finger signifying the number one. “One, the Hermit often carries a rifle with him. He shoots first, and then asks questions.” She raised her middle and index fingers, signifying the number two. “Two, I can guarantee that when he sees me, he won’t shoot. We will both be safe.”

  “Provided he is safe. We’re here to protect him from Eddie, and as long as we don’t know where he is, the Hermit—and everyone else—are not safe.”

  “I understand that. But the Hermit is my brother, and I need to know he’s okay. I will not stay behind, especially knowing that if something happened, I could have helped to prevent it.”

  Bronson paused. “Your brother?” Interesting.

  Bobbi nodded and glared at Bronson, daring him to contradict her.

  Bronson threw his arms up in the air and nodded. “Give me enough time to go in and see that he’s okay. If Eddie isn’t there, then you’re welcome to join me.”

  “I understand.” Bobbi sped up in front of Bronson.

  Shiiit. Bronson doubled his pace in order to catch up with her.

  * * *

  Eddie stopped to catch his breath. He wanted to be in the best shape possible when he overtook the Hermit. The house lay below him visible in all of its glory. Now all he had to do was descend the few feet, sneak up behind him, and the Hermit’s knowledge would be his.

  He straightened and stretched, reviving every pore in his body.

  Just as the stretch ended, Eddie’s wind was knocked out of him as a heavy object landed on his back, forcing him down to the ground, face down.

  He rolled over and felt the dog’s hot breath on his neck.

  Sharp nails clawed at him as he pushed the dog away with all of his strength.

  Honey tumbled a couple of times. Eddie took advantage and jumped to his feet while at the same time reaching for the gun he had dropped.

  But the dog was faster. Honey’s ferocious growl froze Eddie’s blood. He straightened up and took a step backward and bumped into a tree. He was trapped.

  Honey advanced, every muscle in her body taut.

  Eddie looked all around him. Hope evaporated. He could never outrun the dog, and he’d never be able to reach the gun. All he could do was go up. He stretched his arms up and jumped. He grabbed the thick branch he aimed for and pulled himself up with all of his might.

  Below him, Honey was in a frenzy, jumping and snapping at Eddie’s legs. Blood rolled down his leg from the scratch marks and the bites.

  The pain further drove Eddie’s determination. He kicked the dog and swung himself up the tree. Seconds later, he sat in the safety of a thick branch, his heart feeling like a deflated balloon.

  Honey sat down at the foot of the tree, staring at her quarry.

  Chapter 35

  Bronson and Bobbi stood at the foot of the hill, staring at the Hermit’s house. Bronson reached for Bobbi’s arm and pulled her toward him to prevent her from going any further. “We don’t know if Eddie is in there.” He pointed to the house. “I’ll check, and if all’s well, I’ll signal for you to join me, as agreed.”

  Bobbi rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and nodded. “You’re the expert.” She took a step backward and leaned against a tall pine tree.

  “Thank you.” Bronson’s attention turned to the house. The most direct approach, through the front door, would be the worst choice. Best to do as he had done before: enter the house through the side window. If Eddie was there, he wouldn’t be expecting Bronson to approach from the hallway.

  Even as he made this choice, Bronson was on the move. He kept as many trees in front of him as possible. The few times he was exposed, he bent low to keep from being seen. In record time, he reached the edge of the forest. Ahead of him lay the clear area where the Hermit’s house stood.

  Bronson eyed every window and every area where someone could possibly hide. A bitter wind blew, causing a chill to run down Bronson’s back. He shook it off. Seeing nothing unusual, he bent and ran toward the house following a zigzag pattern like a deer dodging headlights.

  Bronson reached the other side with no problems. He crept to the exterior wall leading to the same bedroom window he had used before to enter the house. He pressed himself there and waited for his breath to come at regular intervals before he peeked in. As before, the room h
eld no surprises.

  Bronson focused on capturing any sounds. None came. The house screamed with a silence that was both absolute and oppressive. Bronson swung a leg and hoisted himself in. Once inside, he stood still, quietly listening to nothing. The silence pleased him.

  He darted toward the open door, stuck his head out just far enough to see, and looked up and down the hallway. All seemed normal. He began to make his way toward the living room, sliding along the wall until he reached his destination.

  The living room was as he remembered it, untouched and orderly, but also empty.

  The Hermit was nowhere in sight. Bronson crept toward the windows facing the front of the house. He peeked out and saw the Hermit and Bobbi standing on the porch, talking.

  Shiiit.

  Bronson threw the door open.

  The Hermit’s eyebrows shot all the way up to his hairline. “What are you doing in my house?”

  “I was checkin’ on you. Makin’ sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. I told you I could take care of myself.”

  Bronson caught the almost imperceptible startled look in Bobbi’s eyes. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

  “I haven’t seen anyone out there.” The Hermit pointed with his head toward the woods. He turned to look at Bronson. “Maybe you scared those men off.”

  “Let’s not count our luck until we know for sure. Standin’ here, we make perfect targets. I suggest we head back inside.”

  The Hermit tilted his head and frowned. “Never thought of that.” He looked at the forest as though he expected the trees to come alive. “Let’s go in.”

  Bronson cast Bobbi a harsh look.

  She gave him a fake smile and raced to catch up with her brother. Bronson followed close behind. Once inside, he glanced around the room. “Where’s Honey?”

  “Out somewhere. She likes to wander around. She’ll come home when she’s ready.” The Hermit locked the door behind them.

  Bobbi flopped down on the leather-covered couch. “I want to get this out of the way,” she said, “before Eddie and his gang interrupts us.” She cleared her throat. “Joe, you know why we all are here.”