Was that how Christ felt? On more an intellectual level, Eli had been intrigued by Jesus’ story. The claims of Christianity were outrageous. God becoming man as a sacrifice to save mankind. Christ, too, had been stripped of everything when he came to earth.
Imagine leaving heaven and landing here. Even what we think of as majestic mountains must have seemed like the most impoverished shantytowns compared to the grandeur He normally dwelt.
From a pure common sense point of view, God creating the world made the most sense to Eli. Without outside intervention...everything fell apart. What he knew he missed with God was the emotional connection. It was what Julia had. What he was jealous of.
What he was beginning to feel that he could have—that he absolutely needed—with Julia.
And now their roles were reversed. It wasn’t that Eli felt on the verge of death—just physically exhausted, but nothing that a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix. But how well could he protect Julia at this moment in time? He’d have to depend on Will’s good judgment to get them through the night. How had Will scored on his last weapons test?
Regardless of how Eli felt, he’d have to allow Julia to take care of him if he ever hoped to recover quickly enough to do the job he needed to do.
Eli both loved and hated the idea.
* * *
Julia closed her eyes and eased her head back. Usually, it was easy for her to slide into her role as a nurse. Providing medical care for Eli wasn’t the problem. Being physically close to him would be the hard part.
He’s going to pick up on this. He’s going to get a sense that I’m attracted to him. That I want to know about our past together.
Before the thoughts could take over her rational mind, she stood from the chair and placed the stethoscope in her ears.
“I need to listen to your lungs.” She lifted the top of his T-shirt and snaked the end of the stethoscope under it to his left chest. “Take a deep breath.” He complied, and she kept her fingers firmly on the bell so her fingertips didn’t brush against his skin, fearing her touch would give away her stammering heartbeat. She repeated the same thing on the right side. With her left hand, she reached for his upper arm, her hand settling over the concave curve of his biceps as she eased him back up to a sitting position. She lifted the bottom of his shirt and listened to his lungs again and then quickly pulled the shirt back down.
“How do I sound?” Eli asked.
“Junky.”
“Dr. Solan made that word up. That can’t be a medical term.”
Julia smiled. “If you said that phrase to any medical person across the country, they would know exactly what you were talking about. That means it is an official medical term.”
The oxygen tank lay next to him on the other side of the bed and she leaned over Eli to check the amount James had placed him on. One liter. She checked his oxygen level on the finger probe. It still hovered around 89 percent. Not terrible for altitude, but might as well get him to a more normal level, since they were giving the oxygen. She turned the dial until it read two liters.
As she was about to straighten up, she felt Eli brush his fingers, warm and tender, across her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear. As she stood, he reached for her and held her hand.
“Julia...”
Every quirky cartoon she’d watched as a child rushed into her mind, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if Eli could see her heart bounding from her chest, little pink hearts fluttering out of her eyes.
He tugged at her hand and drew her closer, bringing one hand up and resting it behind her neck, stroking her hair between his fingers. The strength in her knees withered, and she steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder as he continued to ease her closer.
Ever so slowly, she inched toward him. He guided her face next to his and rustled his cheek against hers, soft, musky and freshly shaven—her resolve to pull away disappeared. His touch contained so many things missing from her life.
Safety. Protection. Love?
Both of his hands caressed her neck, and it was the first time that kind of touch didn’t cause the unwanted onset of a panic attack. He eased her back slightly and then pressed his lips against hers.
Soft. Warm. Gentle. Searching.
Everything she expected from a first kiss.
Julia leaned in just a little, and—
A quick three knocks rapped on the door. Julia pulled away from Eli and managed to settle herself back into her chair before Will came through the door.
“How’s the patient?” he asked.
Julia cleared her throat. “We’re good. I mean—”
“Julia’s taking great care of me,” Eli said. “How are things downstairs?”
Will’s eyes roved between the two of them.
Had he picked up on their too-brief kiss?
“Fine,” he said. “I contacted Quentin and gave him a heads-up as to what’s going on. Jace was checked but released from the hospital. Ben took him home. In the morning, we all need to get back to the office by noon. Quentin says he’s got some information that could move the case forward. Then we’ll decide what the next best option is. Considering our state and that this cabin is off the treaded path—he’s fine with us being here for one night. He doesn’t want to put this family at risk beyond that.”
“Great. Thanks for the update, Will.”
He bowed out and closed the door behind him.
Eli reached for Julia’s hand again.
* * *
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
An ache settled at the base of Eli’s throat. It wasn’t the first words he imagined he would say after a kiss—their first kiss. Death would have been better than him living through the look in Julia’s eyes.
When she came near, something overcame him. Something unexpected. Something he’d never felt for another woman before. His heart cried out to somehow adequately thank her for saving his life. Words were never Eli’s gift, and yet the physical expression of his emotional connection to her couldn’t have come at a worse time.
He had a job to do and he couldn’t fail at it. An emotional connection, especially acting on it, would jeopardize them both. It already had done so, and even though Julia had pulled him from the river that nearly took his life—the feelings he had for her would do the same if he didn’t figure out a way to control them.
Eli wished he’d drowned, because his ineptitude at being able to verbally express these feelings reflected a pain in Julia’s eyes that he didn’t want to inflict.
He’d hurt her...deeply.
“I mean, I’m sorry but I’m not sorry...” He exhaled and the pain in his chest flared. “There are so many things wrong with what I just did. It’s completely unprofessional and...”
Julia brushed a tear from her eye and offered him a weak smile. “I get it. I really do. It’s been a trying day for everyone. We just need to get some sleep.”
What he never wanted to do, he’d done in spades...caused her more pain. How could he make this right? If he didn’t fix it, Quentin would pick up on what was happening and assign another agent to her. Eli couldn’t let that happen.
“It’s not the right time,” he said. Would there ever be a good time?
She stood from the chair and crossed to the couch, lying down and pulling an afghan over her. Even in her mildly disheveled state, she looked beautiful. Her normally curly blond hair soft and blown straight still tousled from his touch. Was there an opportunity for them to get past this? Would it ever be possible to have normal lives together?
“You’re him, aren’t you?”
Eli blinked quickly. “Who?”
Julia tucked the blue-and-green afghan under her chin, her scars hidden—the piece of knitted love a better protector for her than he was. “When I finally came ou
t of the fog of my brain injury, my grandfather told me that my parents had died on the way to the hospital to see me.”
Eli clutched his sheet in his hands. On the surface, she was trying to be brave—to act as if she had weathered and overcome the horrid events of her life. But in those dark eyes a relentless storm brewed.
“Going to my parents’ graves was the hardest thing. Seeing their names in stone. Never getting to say goodbye.” She rolled on her back and stared and the ceiling. “My father and I were very close. Daddy’s girl was an understatement. When he was gone, I didn’t feel like anyone could make me feel as safe as he did.”
Where was this going? Any proffered sentiment he tried would seem underwhelming.
“My grandfather said there was a man watching over me. That the nurses told him a police officer would come and visit me early in the morning every day.”
“I was waiting for a witness to wake up. I had a serial killer on the loose.”
“He also said there was a police officer matching the description the nurses gave him at my parents’ funeral, but they never spoke.”
“I was there in hopes of finding the killer—to see if he liked to watch the fallout of what he had done.”
“And that this policeman helped with my physical therapy so my grandfather wouldn’t have to pay for extra sessions.”
What could Eli say to that? She was exposing his interest in her in quite a methodical manner. She could put the best interrogators to shame with her skill in questioning.
She brushed more tears from her eyes. “That man... That was you...” She looked at him, but he turned away.
He wasn’t strong enough to take it.
“You’ve made me feel like it’s possible for another man to make me feel safe. It was a true gift and I just wanted you to hear it from me, since...evidently...we can’t be together.”
He wanted to convince her otherwise—his mind screamed at him to talk her away from this cliff she was about to go over. She was walling herself off from him—that was what this was. His professional training demanded he stay silent. This was better for them both in the end. He could complete his professional duties emotionally unattached and keep her alive.
That was what was most important.
TEN
The night provided the rest Eli needed. He couldn’t believe how much better he felt. There was the muscle soreness, bumps and scrapes induced by the car wreck, but his breathing was unencumbered and he’d successfully been weaned off the oxygen. Even the coughing was infrequent.
Julia woke him once in the night that he remembered, though he knew she checked on him frequently. She listened to his chest again and he kept his hands firmly underneath the covers. After that, she removed the oxygen from his nose and sat next to his side for a good twenty minutes until she seemed satisfied that his oxygen level would stay normal.
They’d exchanged only the necessary words. It frustrated Eli that she was so business-as-necessary, but he was responsible for this distance between them. Now he had to live with it—even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. It was the necessary thing.
After Laura served them a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, bacon and coffee, Eli felt as if running a marathon was within reach. A couple of ibuprofen and he would be good to go.
No events overnight. Even Julia gave the appearance of feeling rested, though he guessed from the slowness of her movements that the same aches and pains bothered her.
Time to catch this killer.
The car was quiet as they drove out of the mountains. Julia seemed enraptured by the scenery. Will dozed in the backseat. Once they got back into the Denver metro area, Eli dropped Will off and swung by his place for a fresh business suit. Julia fell asleep on his couch as he showered, evidently more exhausted from nursing him overnight than she let on.
Once changed, he searched through his dusty books until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it from the cardboard box and walked into his living room, where Julia was now awake and watching television.
He offered her the Bible. “I know it’s not an adequate replacement for the one you lost—I mean you lost a lot of personal things in the river, but it’s new and I know the person who gave it to me would want you to have it.”
Julia reached up with tentative fingers and took it from him. She peeled open the black leather cover and read the inscription. “For the man who watched over Julia. Know that there is one who watches over you. Hank Galloway.” Julia inhaled swiftly. “My grandfather. He gave this to you?”
Eli cleared his throat. “The nursing staff sent it to the police department with a note. They said Hank waited for a few days around the clock at the rehab center hoping to catch me, but I never returned.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
He swallowed hard. The truth—once it was clear that she was healed from her brain injury, he’d wanted to get to know her better and his initial goal in helping her recover from her injuries to aid him in catching a killer had morphed into something more, but Eli knew personal involvement with Julia could threaten the case and they had nabbed their killer. He had run out of excuses to visit her and he wouldn’t risk letting this criminal go free because a jury questioned whether or not his involvement with the only surviving victim clouded his investigation. Best to stay away.
“Your case was solved and your testimony...”
“Wouldn’t have been helpful with my brain damage?” Bitterness etched her voice.
She closed the cover and tapped her fingers on the surface. Something brewed—something she wanted to say. Her dark eyes held his. “Thank you. This means a lot to me.”
Eli picked up his keys. “Let’s get moving. Time for you to meet Quentin.”
The distance to the marshals’ office was short compared to the drive they’d already covered. As Eli roved through the cubicles, a few agents playfully elbowed him in the gut.
“Cayne, what—you have to fake your own death to get a kiss from a beautiful girl?”
“It’s the only way a good-looking girl would kiss him.”
A surge of heat flushed Eli’s face, and Julia looked as if she wanted to crawl under a rock.
Eli waved them off. “At least I can get someone to save my life. You two, on the other hand, better hope for some blind rescuers if looks come into play.”
They laughed, and Eli motioned Julia forward. He ushered her into Quentin’s office and pulled out a chair for her.
“Eli.” Quentin reached out. “Good to see you’re in one piece.”
Ben rapped on the door and entered the office, as well.
Ben shook Eli’s hand. “Seriously, you look like a new man. Who would have guessed you could look so good when you were a dead, drowned rat just yesterday?”
Eli shrugged. “I have Julia and Dr. Solan to thank. They brought me back to good health. Now that we have our heads above water, we need to get control of this case. What do you have?”
“First things first,” Quentin said, offering his hand to Julia. “Julia, I’m Quentin Archer. I don’t know where Eli’s manners are—I thought I taught him better than that.”
She smiled and shook his hand briefly. “Julia Galloway—nice to meet you.”
Quentin straightened and opened the top drawer of his desk. “These are for you. New credentials and a service weapon. Don’t lose them. Accounting is angry enough about the car.”
Eli pulled them toward him. He felt more like himself. Previously, stripped of everything, but now physically healed and with all the accoutrements of his profession back in his hands. He holstered the weapon and felt whole.
Quentin settled behind his desk. “Let’s move forward. Since the safe houses seem to not be working out for us, I’ve decided to let Julia stay in her own home. We’ll provide her two agents overnigh
t to make sure nothing untoward happens again. During the day—” he nodded to Eli “—she’ll be in your company until we sort out the details of the hit file.”
“Sir, Will mentioned that you had some new information,” Eli said.
“Yes. FBI Forensics was able to match the set of prints lifted from the hit package.” Quentin rustled through some papers on his desk. “Ryder Dymond. He’s got a litany of charges for breaking and entering, shoplifting and selling illegal drugs, but nothing violent.”
Ben smirked. “Why do these criminal lowlifes always have weird names?”
Quentin shrugged. “We’ve had a team casing his house since yesterday. No male presence. A woman and a child live there. The house is rented by Ryder and Harper Dymond, so we’re assuming she’s his wife. Mr. Dymond hasn’t showed his face around the premises. The wife may know something, but we haven’t interviewed her yet.”
Eli thrust his hands in his pockets. “Sir, I’d like to be more actively involved in investigating this case. If it’s true that Evelyn Roush’s demise was possibly by the hand of some unidentified partner of the Hangman, then I think we need to go back. Look at all the victims in his series again. Did you get me approval from the Justice Department to interview Heller?”
“Still waiting to hear back,” Quentin said. “I don’t see anything wrong with reexamining the original case, but you’ll need the cooperation of Aurora police.”
“Don’t worry—I’ve got connections there. Also, I’d like to interview Ryder’s wife,” Eli said.
Quentin smoothed his hands together. “Yes, I think it’s a good time to see if we can shake something out of her. I don’t think Mr. Dymond will be showing his face there any time soon. The wife seems pretty innocuous.”
“It’s settled, then.” Eli turned to Ben. “Can you take Julia back to her house and hang with her until the night crew gets there?”
Fractured Memory Page 10
