Stolen Memories

by Liz Johnson

  “Let me go!”

  “Shut up,” he growled, shoving something that tasted like moldy cheese into her mouth. She gagged and wiggled, sobbed and writhed. He never let go.

  And then the van’s sliding back door flew open, its rumble loud in light of her muted cries.

  This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end.

  He shoved her into the bay area, where all the seats had been stripped out. She bounced across the unforgiving floor, slamming into the far wall as the door closed.

  Another figure hovered over her, all broad shoulders and wide stance, despite his bent posture under the low ceiling.

  “Well, well, well. You just won’t die, will you, Miss Bullock?”

  She blinked frantically in the direction of the voice, trying to identify her new captor and make sense of the name he called her. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it as the van started with a telltale rumble and pulled into traffic.

  Where were they taking her? She tried to voice the question, but it was stopped by the rag still in her mouth, and she reached a sore arm up to pull it out.

  “What do you want? Who are you?”

  The driver squealed his tires as he maneuvered the van out of the neighborhood and away from whoever might have witnessed the accident. On an adjacent street the sun shone through the windshield, illuminating her abductor’s sneering face. She’d seen it twice before in pictures and once in person. All angular planes, angry eyes and crooked nose. And that unmistakable red scar from his lip to his chin.

  Her head burned as a memory flashed before her. Surrounded by trees, he’d hit her, and she’d fallen. And he’d taken baby Kay right out of her arms.

  God have mercy on her, for Frank Adams certainly would not.

  FIFTEEN

  Zach swung his car door open, halfway out before the sedan was fully stopped. Slamming it closed behind him, he ran up the front walkway, nodding to a couple of men as they exited through the front door.

  Slipping inside, he headed straight for LeRoy’s office, entering through the glass door without even knocking.

  His friend looked up at the unannounced intrusion. “You didn’t waste any time getting here, did you, Jones?”

  “I’m on a deadline. So where’s your guy?”

  “Dunn. He’s just down the hall. I’ll go get him.” Zach made a move to follow the shelter’s director out into the hallway, but stopped when LeRoy held up a hand. “Maybe you better wait here. You’re about as cool as a fish frying over a campfire.”

  Zach clapped his twitching hands together and nodded. “Let’s make this quick. I’ve got a perp to find.” And a girl to save.

  LeRoy didn’t need to know that last part.

  The phone in his pocket vibrated against his leg, and he snatched it out and to his ear without even checking to see who was calling.

  “Zach.” His brother’s voice was strained, pained.

  “Reese? What’s wrong?”

  “They took her.” Reese’s words weren’t much more than a breath, nearly disappearing below a din of sirens and voices.

  Zach knew that sound. It was unmistakably a crime scene. A lump rose in his throat so big that he couldn’t even croak out a follow-up question.

  “Was taking Julie to…Rosie’s.” He panted between words but pushed on. “White van crashed into my truck. They took her.”

  All the oxygen in the room vanished. Zach gasped, leaning against a wall the only way to stay on his feet. “Are you injured?”

  “Not bad. Hit my head on the steering wheel, but when I came to, I was just bruised up.”

  “You see what direction they went?”

  “No.” Zach hung up the phone and slammed his fist against the wall, the pain deep within needing an exit. It only made his hand burn, but he did it again, connecting with the cinder block and managing to do nothing more than scrape his knuckles.

  Dear God, I’ve lost her. Help me find her. Please, help me find her.

  The office door swung open, and LeRoy led a short guy in baggy jeans into the office. “This is Dunn.”

  Stepping into the man’s personal space, Zach glared at him hard. “Tell me where I can find Frank Adams right now.”

  The guy shuffled back a couple steps, tossing his hair out of his eyes. “That’s pricey info. What are you going to give me for it?”

  In a flash Zach had the man pressed against the opposite wall, his fists holding on to Dunn’s shirt. “Tell. Me. Where. Adams. Is.”

  The thug flinched and tried to disappear into the wall at his back, but there was nowhere to go. “I don’t know. I just worked some jobs with him three years ago. I don’t know. But I might remember if you’ll promise me that I won’t be charged for those thefts.”

  “Do I look like I’m in the mood to barter?” He flexed his arms, which were shaking with the tension still charging through him. “You want me to throw in conspiracy to kidnap and attempted murder to your rap sheet? Tell me. Everything.”

  LeRoy stepped to their side, laying a hand on Zach’s shoulder, when Dunn flashed him a look of fear. “Whoa. Zach, what’s going on, man?”

  Without taking his eyes off the informant, he said, “Adams has her.”

  “Who?” LeRoy was genuinely flummoxed, but he dropped his hand, probably fearing that he’d lose it if he didn’t move it.

  “The girl I’m falling for.”

  Wow. That came out of nowhere, but it sure rang true. And it explained the ache in his heart, the one that had settled in the moment Reese had said she’d been taken. This was so much more than protective instincts. It went beyond a simple attraction. In the face of unspeakable danger, she’d displayed her true heart.

  And that’s what he was falling for.

  But he couldn’t do a thing about it until he saved her life.

  Dunn was doing a pretty good fish impression, mouth opening and closing without making a noise, so Zach gave him a little shake.

  “Talk.”

  “Back then…um…thr-three years ago, Frank used to stash some of the high-end merchandise at his place outside town.”

  “Where? He doesn’t have any property registered in his name.”

  Dunn shook, his hair flapping with the intensity. “It was his m-mom’s place.”

  “Where is it? Exactly.”

  “Off the highway. Over near the Winchester Bridge.”

  Right where Samantha and Julie had been run off the road. They’d unknowingly driven right into the hornet’s nest.

  “Would he be out there now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Dunn looked to LeRoy for help, but his friend held up his hands and backed off. Good man. “Last I heard he was looking for some chick who couldn’t remember anything.”

  Zach’s breaths came slow and deliberate as he got so close he could smell Dunn’s bad breath. “He find her?”

  “Man, I don’t know. She was staying with some cop.”

  Zach released his grip on Dunn’s shirt so fast that the other man sagged against the wall all the way to the floor.

  “What’s your problem?”

  Jabbing a finger in Dunn’s face, Zach leaned over him. “You better be right, or Frank Adams is going to be the least of your worries. Got that?”

  Flying out of the shelter and into the setting sun, he slid into his car already dialing Ramirez.

  “What’s up?”

  Zach pulled a one-eighty in the parking lot, flooring it for the very far north side of town. Too far away for any degree of comfort. There was no telling what Adams could do in the time it would take him to get there.

  “Ramirez, I need a favor.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  He steeled himself to say the words aloud, knowing that speaking them would make his guts burn like he’d been branded. “Julie’s been kidnapped.”

  A hiss of understanding carried to his ear. “Is it Frank?”

  “That’s my best guess. He’s got some chutzpah to attack her at a cop’s hou
se, and everyone we’ve talked to is scared stiff of this guy. You have any better ideas?”

  “Nope. You know where he is?”

  “I think he might be staying at a farm by Winchester Bridge that his mom owns. Can you find me an exact address?”

  “You got her name?”

  “No.”

  The keys on the cop’s computer were already clicking. “I’ll find it. What else?”

  All of the might-bes and possible endings to the day flashed before him. What would he do if he lost Julie? Anything that he’d let himself wish for would vanish. Every dream that had snuck into his mind was on the line.

  And he was going to fight with all he was worth to save them.

  To save her.

  “Call for some backup to meet me there. I’m going to need it.”

  *

  As the van barreled down the road, Julie scrambled toward the back of the bay, pushing on the swinging doors, praying that they would open.

  Frank squatted near the handle to the sliding door and only laughed at her attempts. “How stupid do you think I am?”

  He didn’t really want to hear her answer, so she clamped her mouth shut and cowered in the corner. A flash crossed her mind, a memory. Frank had followed her to the park. She remembered the sensation of being followed. She’d felt his presence on that night, and she’d begun running, careful not to jostle the baby in her arms.

  And then he had been on her, shoving her to the ground and raising a tire iron over his head. She’d cowered then, too. And it had done nothing but allow Kay to be taken from her.

  “What happened to the baby?” Her voice was surprisingly clear in spite of the tremors in her hands and tears pooling in her eyes. “What did you do with her?”

  “That’s not your concern.” He inspected his fingernails, clearly bored with her.

  “But what about her mom? Where’s Lonnie? Where’s the baby?”

  He flipped a hand dismissively. “Again. It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to live long enough to see them again anyway.”

  So they were alive? Please, God, let them both be alive.

  She clung to that hope, drawing strength from it and facing down her captor with a renewed fire. He might want to kill her, but he hadn’t hurt Kay. At least not yet. Maybe she could get him to reveal her whereabouts. He was arrogant. And pride could almost always be stirred up into something more useful—boasting.

  “I don’t think you have it in you to kill me, or you would have done it already.” Good Lord, please don’t let me be making the worst—and last—mistake of my life.

  He made a smug snort and just shook his head. “Ah, but it’s messy, messy to clean up in a van. It’s a lot easier to make a body disappear on a big ol’ farm with lots of acres. And no one’s looking for you anyway, are they? Emma, is it?”

  Emma.

  Her name was Emma. Emma Bullock.

  It both stole her breath and gave her wings. How could she have forgotten? Her mom and dad had named her after her grandmother—Emma Jean.

  And Lonnie had used it so many times that Friday night. “Emma, take care of my baby. Please. Just for a little while. Don’t let them take her. Okay?” Lonnie’s eyes were huge and filled with fear, her voice cracking. “Emma, promise me you’ll take care of her. I want her to be happy. To be safe. Keep her safe, Emma.”

  Emma had failed because of the man now hunched across from her.

  “How did you know my name?”

  “You’re not very smart, are you?” He pouted a thin lower lip, his voice filled with condescension. “Where do you think your purse went?”

  Of course. He’d taken her ID, her entire identity actually. He’d stolen it when he’d taken Kay. When he’d left her in the park. When he’d tried to kill her the first time.

  And now he was going to try to do it again.

  Zach’s face flashed before her mind. She’d come so close to loving him, even if he didn’t think of her the same way. Oh, she’d been afraid to love him, to show him that she cared. What could she offer him without a past?

  Except a future.

  Why had she been so foolish? She’d missed maybe her only chance to tell Zach that what she felt for him went so far beyond just protector or rescuer. If Frank had forcefully stolen her memories, then she’d willingly given Zach her heart.

  He just didn’t know that he was in possession of it. And maybe he didn’t feel the same.

  But the way he’d kissed her! The emotion and power in that kiss couldn’t be denied. There was something there. Something between them.

  And if he didn’t come for her again, didn’t rescue her again, then she’d never again know another kiss so perfect, so powerful.

  She’d never know anything again.

  The van lumbered to a stop, gravel crunching beneath its tires and old brakes groaning.

  “Get up.”

  She didn’t move.

  Frank kicked her foot, and pain shot up her leg. “I said, ‘Get up.’”

  Doing as she was told, she rose to her knees and followed Frank’s pointing finger as he slid outside. When her feet hit the ground, she did a quick survey of the surrounding area. A long, tree-lined lane presumably led to a main road, which was too far away for her to see. Could she run the distance if she needed to? Or would hiding in the wooded area beyond the trees be a better idea?

  Whipping her head around, she took in a dilapidated old farmhouse and a just as run-down barn behind it. The barn’s red paint had long ago been stripped away by winds and harsh Midwest winters. All that was left of the color was a patch under a protective eave, which rattled every time the wind blew. The barn’s door hung on rusted hinges that threatened to give way without notice.

  God, I don’t want to die here.

  A dark blanket unrolled across the sky and thunder cracked in the distance.

  Frank and the driver, whom he’d called Grady, both looked up at the commotion, and she took her only chance to bolt. Feet flying like she’d never moved before, she shot away from her captors, heading straight for the tree line. The wind blowing through her hair smelled of the coming rain and freedom.

  But she’d only made it a few yards when a thump against her back sent her sailing to the ground. The wind blew out of her as she landed hard against the uneven dirt, her chin hitting a tree root and clapping her jaw closed. The top of her head seemed to explode with the pain, but she ignored it. Writhing and kicking, she fought for her freedom.

  She tried to turn herself over for a better angle to struggle against whoever had pushed her down, but he had a knee pressed to her back. His substantial weight subdued all her attempts to break away.

  “Stop moving.” It was Grady on top of her.

  I would if you’d get off me. The words wouldn’t come, and they fused together with the flashing spots in the corners of her eyes.

  Was this how she was going to die? Suffocated by an angry flunky?

  “Get her inside.” Frank’s growl was impatient at best. It held an underlying malice that said he was looking forward to killing her.

  Grady grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet.

  She gulped at the air, drinking in the sweet relief after so long without it.

  Her joy was short-lived, as Grady jerked her off balance and dragged her toward the house. She dug her toes into the gravel, but it shifted, releasing her far too easily into his sinister hands. That didn’t slow him down, so she ran to keep up with him and tried a different tactic. At his side, she kicked his ankle.

  He stumbled and swore but didn’t loosen his grip. When he righted himself, he glared at her before bringing the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her arm across her cheek. Fire lit every inch of her face from her ear to her nose, and tears welled in her eyes as he hauled her toward the front door of the house.

  “Not in there.” Frank’s tone bespoke Grady’s stupidity. “Unless you want to clean up the mess.”

  Grady paused. He looked down at her like she wasn’t
worth it, then tossed her toward the barn as if she was no more than a rag doll.

  Bile rose in her throat, and she heaved uncontrollably. What had she done to deserve this but be in the wrong place at the wrong time? What had she done but watch a baby for someone who needed help?

  Lonnie and Kay. Wherever they were, she hoped that God would protect them because she could do nothing else.

  Her feet left a trail through the straw-covered barn floor until Grady shoved her into a wooden chair. It creaked under her weight and the rough treatment. She tried to rouse some sort of retaliation out of her body when Frank handed Grady a ball of twine, which he used to secure her to the chair.

  “Go get the tarp,” Frank ordered. Grady grumbled but complied, sulking away.

  In her bumbling brain, which searched for any memory it could materialize, something poked at her consciousness. Something was out of place. She had to figure it out before Grady returned. Grady.

  He wasn’t the man who had attacked her before. “Where’s the blond guy, the one you sent to the mall and to the house?”

  Frank frowned and rubbed his palms together in a slow, ominous motion. “Oh, we had a…parting of ways. Seems he didn’t want to do anything more than scare you. But you and I both know that’s not going to be enough, is it?”

  A cold sweat washed over her. She had nothing left to say, no energy left to fight as Frank’s wicked grin split his face.

  “This’ll all be over soon.”

  It was true what everyone said. At the end of her life, she regretted only the things she hadn’t done. Only the words she hadn’t spoken.

  Her early years were still hazy; she hadn’t been able to fully recall her life before the attack, but without a doubt, her biggest regret was Zach. She should have told him how she felt. She should have given him a reason to tell her the same.

  Now, if God didn’t intervene, she’d never be able to.

  *

  A late-night freeze the day before had left the rural roads beyond Winchester Bridge slick and slushy, and Zach turned into the skid as his car fishtailed at seventy miles an hour. All of his training told him to slow down, that he couldn’t help Julie if he didn’t make it to her because of an accident.

  His heart told him to hurry up.