Circumstantial Memories

by Carol Ericson

  “What?” She dropped her hands to her lap.

  “Are you remembering your father now?” He draped his arm across the back of the swing, his fingertips brushing her shoulder.

  “No, I’m thinking about Dr. Brody.”

  Ryder withdrew his arm and stiffened beside her. Damn. She’d only been thinking about Jim and his comments about Ryder. Could she backtrack now?

  “I mean I’m thinking about Dr. Brody’s assessment of my memories….” She trailed off as Ryder’s frown deepened.

  “About Brody.”

  She waited, but Ryder suddenly found his fingernail immensely interesting.

  “Yeah, what about him?” She tried to nudge the swing into motion again, but Ryder’s feet planted on the porch prevented that.

  “Julia, I don’t think Dr. Brody is the best therapist for you.”

  “You don’t still think he had anything to do with slashing your tires or the fire at the hotel, do you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just that…” He rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Oh hell, I had him checked out.”

  “You had Jim investigated?” She jumped up from the swing and dug her fists into her hips. Just because this man knew her from her past, helped her recover her memories and sent her pulse racing every time he touched her, didn’t give him the right to stick his nose in her personal business.

  “Do you want to know what my guy discovered?” He plucked his white cowboy hat from his head, dropped it on the cushion she just vacated, and ran his long fingers through his hair.

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “The American Board of Professional Psychologists filed a formal complaint against Dr. Brody for inappropriate conduct with a patient four years ago.”

  “And?” Her chest ached with pent-up breath. “Did he leave her flowers, rip up her underwear and slash her tires?”

  “No.” He pushed up from the porch swing and it rocked back, banging the back of his legs as it swung forward. “He allowed her to spend the night at his place when she separated from her husband. I don’t know anything more than that. The complaint doesn’t give specifics.”

  Her knees felt weak with relief and she leaned against the porch railing, wedging her elbows on the top railing. “So you don’t know what happened when she spent the night there? He could have just been giving her refuge. Maybe the husband was abusive.”

  “Why does that matter? If it’s inappropriate conduct, it’s inappropriate conduct. At the very least, it shows a lack of judgment.”

  A flash of heat claimed Julia’s cheeks as she recalled a few of Jim’s personal e-mails and phone calls to her. Ryder was right. Jim broke the rules, but that didn’t make him a bad therapist…or a dangerous one.

  “I’m supposed to fire someone I’ve been seeing for three years because of one mistake or just because you tell me to?”

  “Like I told you before, Julia, maybe Brody hasn’t been much help to you because he doesn’t want you to recover your memory. If he has a thing for you, he wants to keep you dependent on him.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Seems to be a lot of that going around.”

  Ryder gripped her shoulders and shook her. “He has a history. Even if he’s not slashing panties and tires, he’s not the best choice for a therapist—not for you.”

  Ryder made sense. Jim belonged to that twilight life she’d been living for the past three years as a frightened, uncertain woman jumping at shadows and bumps in the night. She knew from Ryder’s descriptions and her own memories, she really didn’t have anything in common with that woman anymore…except Shelby.

  “Maybe…” Her cell phone chirped in her purse and she held up her hand to Ryder as she shrugged out of his grasp. She snagged her purse from the porch by the side of the swing and dug out her phone. “Hello?”

  “Julia, this is Sheriff Ballard.”

  “Hi, Sheriff.” Ryder spun around and she raised her brows at him. “Did you discover anything about the break-in at my house?”

  “No, it’s not that. I got a call this morning from Craig Settles. Do you remember him?”

  “Yes.” She clutched the phone and licked her lips. “He’s the owner of the stolen car I was driving when I crashed.”

  Ryder planted himself in front of her, mouthing words she couldn’t understand.

  “Right. He was cleaning his garage and discovered that old duffel bag the police recovered from the car. He found something in there he didn’t notice when he first got his stuff back.”

  “What is it?” Her dry mouth could barely form the words. If she hid something in that car, it couldn’t be good.

  “A computer disc.”

  The blood pounded in her ears and she gripped the chain of the porch swing for support. Ryder’s hand curled around her waist as he urged her to sit down.

  “How does he know, how can he remember whether or not it belongs to him after all this time?”

  “There’s writing on the case he doesn’t recognize, and he popped it in his computer and got some gibberish about encryption. He can’t even read what’s on it.”

  She and Ryder hadn’t told Sheriff Ballard about the CD she delivered to Jeremy in Arizona. It looked as though she never delivered the real one after all. Was that why she and Jeremy were fighting before the house blew up? “Is Settles going to send it?”

  “He already did. I’m holding it in my hand right now. He called to tell me to expect it today, but it arrived yesterday.”

  “Have you tried it in your computer?”

  “I get the same thing—gibberish. The way I see it, this CD probably belongs to you or whoever stole the car in the first place. Do you want it?”

  She didn’t want anything to do with the CD. Jeremy had used it to threaten Ryder and it may have gotten Jeremy killed instead. The CD signaled trouble, but it might be important for Ryder.

  She expelled a long breath. “Yeah, I want it.”

  “Are you at home? I can drop it off or if I can raise Zack on the radio, I’ll have him come in and take it to you.”

  “I’m at the McClintocks’ ranch, but I can be home in half an hour.”

  Dropping onto the swing, Julia ended the call and held her phone cupped in her palm.

  Ryder whistled. “Let me guess, the owner of the stolen car found a computer disc that didn’t belong to him. Wasn’t that car totaled?”

  Drawing her leg up, Julia balanced her chin on her knee. “I totaled the car, but the cops salvaged a duffel bag out of the trunk, along with the bag of money in the backseat. The duffel bag had a few tools in it and some fishing gear. They figured it didn’t belong to me. When they contacted Craig Settles about the car, he claimed the duffel bag. I guess nobody searched it thoroughly…until now.”

  A chill rippled up her spine and she hunched her shoulders.

  Ryder’s strong hands massaged her neck, and she wished she could just collapse like a rag doll into his arms, let him handle everything. She wanted her memories to stop right here. She didn’t need to know anything more about her dangerous ex-husband or his lies and deceit.

  The touch of Ryder’s hands melted the tension in her back, flooded her with warmth, filled her with strength. She straightened her shoulders and pushed up out of the swing. “I’m going to meet Sheriff Ballard at my house to get that CD.”

  “You’re not going alone. If Ballard can’t read that CD, neither can you, but the agency just might have a chance. You’re not keeping that CD in your possession for more than thirty seconds.”

  Fingers of uneasiness trailed across her flesh. She didn’t want the damn thing. She’d turn it over to Ryder and his spook buddies to decipher.

  Ryder’s stepmother, Pam, stepped out onto the porch, planting her hands on a pair of slim hips. “Are you leaving, Julia? Shelby’s napping. That little girl was born to ride. Can’t tell you how nice it is to have another female in the house.”

  Pam, like her husband, was larger than life, tall and wiry and tough as shoe l
eather. She and Ralph had been married for almost twenty years and rumor had it that she’d been having an affair with Ralph while he was still married to Ryder’s mother. When Ralph and his wife divorced, Pam went from part-time ski instructor to reigning queen of Silverhill.

  Pam’s affection for Shelby surprised Julia. Rod said she’d been waiting for a grandchild, but Julia figured Pam would prefer a boy to a girl. She probably got a kick out of Shelby’s tomboy tendencies.

  “Why don’t we let Shelby nap here until we get that…other business settled.” Ryder put on his hat and tipped it over his forehead to hide his face.

  “Is that all right with you, Pam?”

  “That’s fine with me as long as you don’t mind coming all the way back out here to pick her up.”

  “I’ll get her for Julia.”

  “Really?” Pam raised a brow that disappeared beneath the fluff of blond hair on her forehead. “You’re taking your responsibility toward Julia seriously, aren’t you? It’s good to see you care for something or someone close to home.” Pam turned to Julia and smirked. “That’s my three boys. Ryder feels responsible for the whole world, not so much his family. Rod feels responsible for this ranch and Rafe feels responsible only for himself.”

  “We better get out of here.” Scowling, Ryder grabbed Julia’s hand. “Don’t get Pam started on the defects of me and Rafe.”

  Pam waved from the porch. “Take your time.”

  “Does Pam really think protecting the country and protecting and serving as a cop are defects?”

  “I don’t know what her problem is. She should be down on her hands and knees thanking me every day. I’m the one who spilled the beans to my mother about the affair between my father and Pam, which led to my parents’ divorce and left the field wide open for Pam.”

  “You? Your father and Pam have been married for quite a while. You couldn’t have been more than…”

  “Ten.” His lips tightened. “I was ten years old and I’d been up at Snowhill skiing with my friends. I saw my father with Pam, but they didn’t see me. Later that night during dinner, I asked him in front of the entire family what he and the blond ski instructor were doing up at Snowhill Lodge.”

  Julia caught her breath. Ryder blamed himself for his parents’ divorce? “What happened?”

  “My parents excused all of us from the room and proceeded to have a huge fight. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time my father had checked out the ski instructors. My mother left the next day and never came back.”

  “You mean you never saw your mother after that? Even now?”

  “That’s right.” Ryder squinted into the sun and reached for his sunglasses on the truck’s console, squeezing them so tightly, they looked ready to snap.

  “That’s not your fault, Ryder.”

  “Oh no?” He lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now. You’d think I’d be Pam’s favorite stepson, but Rod is the golden boy for staying at the ranch. The McClintock Ranch means more to Pam than most of the McClintocks.”

  Julia wanted to erase the tightness from Ryder’s face, ease the pain edging his voice. “Yeah, I’m afraid I disappointed my mother by becoming a tour guide instead of going into fashion design.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Ryder jerked his head around. “You remember that, huh?”

  “It just came to me, the feeling, the emotion, everything.” She pressed her hands to her belly to still the butterfly wings.

  “I suppose that’s going to start happening more frequently now.” Ryder gripped the steering wheel and drilled the road ahead with narrowed eyes.

  “If it does, I have you to thank.”

  “Yeah, you have me to thank.”

  Ryder seemed lost in his own thoughts, so for the rest of the ride home Julia stared out the window as snatches of scenery flew by. Every once in a while, her gaze caught on a house or a horse or another car, and the detail sprang to life for her.

  Just like her mind.

  Ever since her session with Dr. Jim, a kaleidoscope of images and scenes had been shifting through her brain and occasionally, one would come into focus with sharp clarity. But her memories of Ryder remained cloudy.

  “Doesn’t look like Sheriff Ballard is here yet.” Ryder pulled a U-turn at the end of the block and eased his truck in front of Julia’s house.

  Before getting out of the car, Julia pressed her nose against the cool glass of the window. Her heart skipped a beat. Someone had left her front gate ajar. She wiped her sticky palms on her jeans. Probably the mailman.

  She shoved the car door open and tripped toward the swinging gate, with Ryder calling out behind her. If her secret admirer had left another bunch of scraggly flowers, she’d rip them to pieces.

  Charging up the walkway, she frowned. Something on her porch. Her gait faltered and she swallowed. Not flowers. She stumbled on the first step. Something wet. Her breath hitched in her throat. Something red. She ground her fist against her mouth.

  Blood.

  Chapter Seven

  The oozing, thick metallic smell gagged her, causing her knees to buckle. Strong arms caught her from behind.

  “What the hell?” Ryder pulled her against his chest, and she sank against his tensed muscles.

  His heart thundered against her shoulder blade, giving her strength, shoring her up. She straightened her spine and took a deep breath of cleansing mountain air.

  Squeezing her shoulders, he nudged her off the step. “Wait here.”

  He crept up to the porch, avoiding drops of red liquid seeping into the wood. Hunching forward, he dabbed his finger at the streaks smeared across her front door and brought his finger to his nose.

  “It’s blood all right,” he called over his left shoulder.

  She figured that, but from what source? Her gaze darted around her small, fenced-in yard. Relief swept through her, knowing Shelby was safe with the McClintocks.

  Ryder jogged down the steps, pulling a handkerchief from his jeans pocket. He wiped the blood from his fingers and grabbed Julia’s arm with his other hand. “Let’s wait outside the gate for Ballard.”

  “D-do you think there might be someone in my house?”

  “I don’t think so, but we don’t want to touch anything else until the sheriff gets here.”

  He steered her onto the road in front of her house just as the sheriff wheeled up in his squad car.

  “Are you waiting for me?” He waved a CD above his head. “I got it right here.”

  Julia’s stomach clenched. She’d forgotten about that other nightmare looming in the shadows—her ex-husband’s clandestine activities.

  Ryder held out his hand. “Yeah, but we’ve got another problem. Looks like Julia’s stalker paid another visit.”

  Sheriff Ballard shoved the CD into Ryder’s hand as if anxious to get rid of it. “More flowers?”

  “Worse.”

  “Not another break-in?” Ballard scowled. “We don’t need an uptick in the crime statistics during the height of the summer season.”

  “Don’t worry, Sheriff.” Ryder waved his hand toward the blood-splattered porch. “This is a one-man crime wave.”

  “Hell and damnation.” Ballard hitched up his pants and gingerly walked a semicircle in front of Julia’s porch. “Looks like blood.”

  “It is blood.” Ryder held up his right index finger. “I sampled a little from the lower-left corner of the door.”

  “Anything dead around here?” Ballard twisted his head over his shoulder to scan the front yard.

  Julia cleared her throat. “Not that we noticed.”

  Ballard blew out a breath. “Too bad you don’t have any neighbors, Julia. I suppose there aren’t any witnesses. Are the Fourniers your closest neighbors?”

  “Closer than Gracie and Charlie, but don’t you think they would’ve called you if they’d seen somebody on my porch spreading blood all over my front door?”

  “You have a point, but I’ll drive up the road to see if they noticed anythin
g unusual. We’ll dust for prints here and take a sample of that blood, and then you can clean up this mess.”

  “Seems I have a lot of messes to clean up lately.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and kicked her toe at the ground. She wanted to catch this maniac red-handed, literally. Her memories and her old life hovered within her grasp and she wanted to take hold with both hands and banish the fear and uncertainty that had dogged her since the accident. She didn’t need another complication.

  Another patrol car pulled in front of Sheriff Ballard’s, and Zack Ballard popped his head up over the open door. “Have you been looking for me…Sheriff?”

  “Yeah, I wanted you to run something over here to Julia, but I couldn’t bring you up on the radio.”

  Zack hunched over the car door, leaning on his folded arms. “I had it on. Just heard a little static earlier, but no call.”

  “Doesn’t matter now. We have another problem. Julia’s secret admirer left her another gift, a gory one.”

  “Stalker.” Julia clenched her jaw.

  “Excuse me, honey?”

  Why did the men in this town always use sweet little endearments for her? Bet nobody ever called Julia Rousseau of Paris honey. “Secret admirers don’t leave gifts of blood. This guy’s a stalker, and I think he’s dangerous.”

  “Blood?” And all of the same drained from Zack’s face. “Someone left blood? From what?”

  “I’m presuming an animal, but we haven’t found anything yet.” Ballard jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “We’ll take a sample and prints, if we find any.”

  Ryder had been slowly moving toward Zack’s squad car, and now he bent over, pointing at the front right bumper. “Is this blood?”

  Zack’s head jerked up. “On my bumper?”

  “Take a look.”

  Julia followed Sheriff Ballard out to the road and leaned over Ryder’s shoulder. A red smear with brown fur sticking to it clung to the chrome bumper.

  “What is that, boy?” Sheriff Ballard straightened up and drilled Zack with a steely gaze.

  “I must’ve hit that animal.” Zack’s eyes shifted between the three faces turned toward him. “I came down this way earlier on my way to Gracie Malone’s B and B. Some small animal ran into the road in front of my car. I thought I missed him, but I guess not. Must’ve grazed him at least.”