Saving Shadows: Shadows Landing #1

by Kathleen Brooks

  There was a knock at the door, and when it opened Ellery saw Gavin’s feet step into the room. “Dammit, Granger, Ellery has a concussion. Turn down those lights or we’re leaving right now.”

  “She was just going to tell us how she got that concussion, and then I will,” Granger said with steel to his voice. He was a completely different man from the guy she’d met while wrangling Bubba the alligator. He’d been relaxed, kind, and gentlemanly. This Granger was all business.

  “Now or I’m calling her an attorney.” Gavin pulled out his phone and Granger turned down the lights. Relief rushed through her as the sharp pain lessened to a dull ache. “Thank you. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on so we can help. Otherwise we won’t be saying a word.”

  Gavin sat next to her and grabbed her hand for support—support she desperately needed. “They think I killed someone. I couldn’t do that, could I?” Ellery whispered, but Deputy King leaned forward, and she was sure he heard her.

  “You don’t know?” Deputy King asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Who do you think she killed? All I saw on the news were her elderly neighbors and good friends, the Cummings, reporting her missing,” Gavin said, keeping his hand tight on hers.

  “Tell me about the concussion, and I’ll tell you about the report I got from Charleston,” Granger said, keeping his arms crossed. He looked relaxed, leaning against the mirror, but Ellery knew he was nothing of the kind.

  “Ellery?” Gavin whispered as he asked for her permission to share what he knew.

  “Go ahead and tell him. I would hope I’m not that kind of person,” Ellery told him as she began to bounce her knee nervously.

  “I found Ellery clinging to a log at three in the morning when I went to secure my boat. She remembered her first name, but not her last. She remembered she was from Charleston, but not her address. There was an open wound on her head a couple inches behind her ear and she was barely breathing. I preformed CPR until she cleared herself of water. Then I sewed up her head injury. She spent the night and most of the morning throwing up water. After sleeping and rehydrating, she started to remember more as the swelling went down. I’d classify it as intermediate memory loss brought on by retrograde amnesia. However, the layman’s term I’d say is Swiss cheese amnesia. It’s why she can remember some things, but not others.”

  “What else are you remembering?” Granger asked.

  “I walked into Tinsley’s art gallery and remembered I worked at one. I can’t remember which one. Then when you said my last name, I instantly knew it was mine. And when I saw a picture of Tibbie on the television I remembered her and my condo on Rutledge.”

  “Can I see this alleged injury?” Granger asked with disbelief clear in his voice.

  “Sure,” she said, patting the back of her head. “Gavin, can you show them? I haven’t actually seen it.”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” Deputy King asked as he and Granger walked behind her. Gavin parted her hair and then there was silence as they saw the swollen wound.

  “I think someone hit me with a bat. I had this dream where I was looking into a car window as I was grabbing for the door handle, and I saw something arc behind me and then pain and darkness.”

  Granger and Deputy King whispered to each other and then she felt fingers on her head pushing hair away. “It doesn’t look like a bat. Why did you think it was?” Granger asked.

  “I thought it could be a bat, but I don’t actually remember seeing it. I remember thinking it looked like whoever was behind me was swinging a bat, so I assumed it was one. You know how ball players hold their bats up high over their shoulder and then swing? That’s what I saw. I think.”

  “Do you know how you got in the water?” Deputy King asked as he walked back around and took a seat at the table.

  “No. I’m sorry.” And Ellery was. She’d like nothing more than to remember everything. “Now that I’ve answered that, can you tell me why you think I killed someone and who you think I killed?”

  Granger opened a file on the table and slid it toward her. There was a picture of a man glaring at the camera next to a painting. A painting she remembered putting a sold sign next to. “Do you know this man?”

  Ellery’s head hurt, and she put her fingers to her temples and massaged the pain. She looked at the picture but couldn’t keep her eyes on the man. Instead, she focused on the painting. “I remember putting a sold sign in front of that painting.”

  “What about the man?” Granger didn’t seem as impressed as she was about her remembering the painting.

  Ellery shook her head. “It’s like a black pit. I look at him and my memory just goes completely black like my head is floating through an abyss. Everything recent seems like that. Two years ago, great, I can tell you about my birthday party with my friends or the time I got sunburned on Isle of Palms during spring break, but yesterday? Last week? Even six months ago, I got nothing.”

  “How long have you worked at—” Deputy King started to say, but Gavin cut him off.

  “She needs to remember on her own.” Gavin turned to her and smiled gently as he squeezed her hand. “Where is the last place you remember working?”

  “I worked at Greta Waters Art Gallery on Fifth Avenue in New York City. I earned my undergrad degree at College of Charleston and then my master’s in New York City. My goal was always to come back to Charleston. Then two years ago I moved back, rented an apartment, and began applying for local jobs. While I was applying I worked for private collectors. That’s how I know Tibbie and Elijah. I found some paintings for them, and in return they moved me up the list to get a condo in their building.”

  “You started your current job a year ago,” Granger said, looking at a printout. “Are you saying you have short term memory loss?”

  “That’s what I am saying,” Gavin said with a hard voice. Ellery squeezed his hand in thanks for sticking up for her.

  “But you’re having dreams of being hit and of selling this painting,” Deputy Kind stated more than asked, and Ellery nodded her answer.

  “It’s common when dealing with memory loss. It’ll either come back slowly in dreams or when she smells or sees something or all the sudden,” Gavin explained.

  Granger looked to Gavin, and Ellery saw his lips thin as he thought. “Gavin, can I see you outside?”

  Gavin looked to her and Ellery smiled as best she could. Right now she was scared to death. “It’s okay,” she said reassuringly, even though letting go of Gavin’s hand was the very last thing she wanted to do.

  Gavin gave her hand one last squeeze before getting up and walking out the door with Granger. Ellery looked across the table to Deputy King. “Tell it to me straight. Did I kill someone, Deputy King?”

  8

  “It doesn’t look good for her,” Granger said as Gavin took a seat in Granger’s office. “We need her to remember in order to clear her name. I see her now, talk to her now, and she doesn’t strike me as a murderer. Especially with that head wound. That’s not a slip and fall or a self-inflicted wound. That was a kill shot that she somehow managed to survive, but Charleston police don’t see it like that. They want her, and I have to turn her over.”

  “Who do they think she killed?” Gavin asked as he ran his hand over his face and let out a lungful of air.

  “He was a pretty famous local artist by the name of Mark Vosslinger. Last night, Ellery put on a huge exhibit of his work. The Coast Guard found his body this morning in the bay.”

  “Why do they think Ellery killed him?” Gavin asked.

  “I need more information. Charleston was very tight lipped, but they did say her car was found at his house. Is there any way you can speed up her memory?”

  “I can try,” Gavin said with resolve. “I need all the pictures you can get from social media. Pictures of her work place, pictures of the art, pictures of anything that looks important to her, and pictures of her with this Mark guy. We have to be careful not to plant false memories bu
t to encourage the recall of old ones. If this doesn’t work, I can call a friend of mine in Charleston who does hypnosis. That can help with amnesia brought on by traumatic events, which I think is what caused this memory loss.”

  Granger motioned for Gavin to come around the desk. “What should I print off?” Gavin scanned the social media accounts and began to point.

  * * *

  “Your car was found at this man’s house. Do you think you were in a relationship with him?”

  Ellery sighed as she really looked at the picture. “I mean, I get this nagging feeling I should know him, but it’s the painting I remember. It’s like I can see it right here in front of me. Down to the brush strokes.”

  “Do you own a boat, Miss St. John?”

  “I don’t think so. I know I like going to the beaches on Isle of Palms and Sullivan’s Island. I know I can swim. I was on my high school swim team and I can surf. I even have three boards. But I don’t remember a boat.”

  It felt good to work her brain. She’d been putting it off because of the pain, but the more of these memories she could remember, the more excited she got. “Ask me more questions.”

  “Okay,” Deputy King said, leaning forward. “Have you ever been so mad you could kill someone?”

  “Magnolia Tyford my sophomore year of college. She was my roommate and slept with anyone and everyone, all the while locking me out of my room.”

  “What did you do to her, if you didn’t kill her?” Deputy King asked.

  “I’m not allergic to poison ivy, but she was. I got some and smeared it on her sheets so she was miserable for the sorority cotillion.” Ellery paused and bit her lip. “Okay, and I might have grabbed a couple harmless king snakes and put them in our room too. I was going to put them back because she was scared to death of snakes, but as I was bending over to grab one from under the bed, here came Magnolia with another guy. She literally yanked me off the ground and shoved me out the door.”

  Ellery saw Deputy King fighting not to smile. “King snakes are harmless, did she know that?”

  “No, but I did. But that’s the maddest I’ve gotten in my whole life. It’s just bad manners to keep kicking your roommate out every night. So, I cracked the door and peeked in as Magnolia did her best porn star imitation. It wasn’t pretty. She kept flinging her hair around and smacking him in the face as she made this strange noise that resembled a cross between a goat and a chimpanzee.”

  Deputy King bit his lip to stop from laughing, but Ellery couldn’t help but smile. She doubted Gavin made goat noises in bed. He probably would whisper something sexy that would have her throwing herself at him.

  “Do you think Magnolia could have hit you?”

  Ellery shook her head. “I don’t think so. Last I heard she’d moved back to Savannah and was married to a plastic surgeon. She moved out of the sorority house that night because of the snakes, and I really didn’t see her much after that.”

  The door opened and Ellery watched as Granger and Gavin came in. Dammit. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about what kind of noises he’d make during sex and more importantly, what kind of noises he’d have her making.

  “Ellery?” Gavin asked for what she thought may have been the second or third time. She might have trouble remembering little details about her past, such as where she worked, but her mind had no trouble coming up with all kinds of images of Gavin with his muscles flexed as he pumped into her.

  “Yes!” Ellery tried to smooth over her shout and swallowed hard with a mix of embarrassment and heart pounding thoughts she was trying to hide.

  “I thought I could show you some pictures to see if they jog your memory,” Gavin said with a look that sent her mind running down the dirty path of him naked again, wearing only the little smirk on his face. It was as if he knew what she was thinking.

  “Sure. Anything to help me remember who did this to me.”

  Gavin put down three pictures and her mind instantly recalled when they were taken. “My condo!” she said excitedly as she picked up the pictures and told them all about her little home and how she got it.

  “What about this place?”

  Gavin put down a picture of an art gallery. The old sign read Mimi Hollis Art Gallery. It was as if her mind was chugging through mud. It was slow, hard to get moving, but as Gavin put down the interior pictures the gears picked up speed. “It’s familiar, but I can’t really say for sure,” she said with disappointment. “These paintings though, I remember them.”

  “Anything from these pictures?” Granger asked as Gavin laid out more photos. One was of a perky brunette who couldn’t be more than twenty-two. Another was an older man in a preppy suit. Another image was of the brooding man they’d shown her before. More and more photos of the three people, of the street outside the gallery they’d shown her, and then photos of her smiling with these people were placed in front of her. She shook her head as she looked at them. “I don’t remember—” But then her eyes kept going to the background where paintings, sketches, and statues caught her eye. “That’s my favorite. It’s a Karlsburg. See how he used the shadows to act as a whole new painting within a painting. It’s so clever.”

  Gavin and Granger looked at each other and in seconds a computer was placed in front of her with the pictures of all the paintings currently on sale at the art gallery. “You remember through art. Tell us about each painting,” Gavin told her as he pulled up the first painting.

  There was no “aha” moment—some of her memories were simply there. With each painting, she was able to tell them more and more about the art, the artist, and why she loved them. She remembered her time in college and her art classes. She remembered every painting that had touched her soul. The only thing she couldn’t recall were the names of the people she worked with and where she worked. “Oh, these are the Mark Vosslinger collection,” Ellery said with a sigh. They were simply gorgeous. “He’s going to be huge . . . wait.” Her mind clicked, and she lunged for the photos they’d brought in earlier. She shoved them around the desk until she came to the one she was looking for. “This is Mark! He’s the artist of these paintings. I remember.”

  Granger shared a look with Gavin and then turned the computer to pull up social media pictures from the exhibit yesterday. “That’s right. That’s the artist, Mark Vosslinger. Did you know him well?”

  “Not really. I talked to him some when he brought his artwork in.” Ellery stopped and looked up with surprise. “I work at an art gallery. Wait, do I work at this Mimi Hollis Gallery?”

  “How much do you now remember from last night?” Gavin asked, avoiding answering her question.

  “I remember hanging all these pictures and deciding which should be featured at the prime spots in the gallery,” Ellery said before biting on her lip as she tried to push the mud from her mind. She’d have better luck wading through the pluff mud. “Why do I remember the art, but not the people? How can I remember hanging the pictures but can’t remember the gallery where I work or who I work with?”

  “What about these photos?” Granger asked as he turned the computer back around to her, again trying not to give her any answers.

  Ellery flipped through them. “I remember this,” she said, pointing to her putting a sold sticker by a painting. “The rest . . . I see them as if they’re other people. I know that’s me. I probably know the people in the pictures, but I have no memory of them being taken or what we were talking about, or who those people are. It’s as if it’s not me in them.”

  “What’s your most recent memory?” Gavin asked.

  “Thinking you were kissing me,” Ellery answered absently as she was still staring at the photos.

  “Kissing you? I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that,” Gavin said with a grin that had her blushing.

  “I thought you were kissing me, but it turned out to be CPR.”

  Deputy King snorted and tried to cover it by coughing.

  “Traumatic amnesia. Luckily it appears that most of you
r retrograde is getting better through art memories. We think your injury occurred not too long after these photos,” Gavin told her. “What would you do after the exhibit was over? Just your best guess based on your past history.”

  Ellery suddenly felt cold. She shivered, but her eyes were too glazed to see the concern on the men’s faces. “I would have cleaned up and closed the gallery.” Her body went from shivering to shaking as the image of a dark raining night came over her. Her heart beat in fear as she reached for her car. She saw the reflection of an arm raising and then . . .

  “Ellery!” Gavin yelled as he wrapped her tight in his arms.

  Ellery took in a shuddering breath as she buried her head in his chest and tried to force herself not to cry. Her whole body shook with fear. There was something dark and dangerous in Charleston and her mind was hiding it from her.

  “I remember being hit. It was the same as in my dream. It was raining, and it was dark out. But I felt fear. I felt panic. And then I saw the arm raise, and I knew I was dead.” Ellery began to take deep breaths. “I can’t go back to Charleston. There’s someone there who wants me dead.”

  Ellery collapsed into Gavin’s strength as she let him hold her. His warmth slowed her shaking, and his arms tight around her calmed her breathing. “Wait,” she said, pulling away. “If I’m the person who should be dead, then who did you all think I killed?”

  “Mark Vosslinger’s body washed up in Charleston this morning,” Granger told her seriously. She knew he was watching her closely to gauge her reaction, but she didn’t need to fake the shock she felt.

  “Mark is dead?” She gasped. “How? And why do the police think I did it?”

  “I don’t know how. They didn’t release that information on the bulletin. But you are a suspect. Your car was found at Mark’s house.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Mark hated people coming over to his house. I’ve actually never been to his home. I offered to come pick up a painting once and he bit my head off. It was his creative space, and he didn’t want the stench of business to come near it. Those were his exact words.” The memory from that encounter when she’d called Mark and offered to pick up the work was suddenly clear as day, but when she tried to think about what happened to her, it was as if there was a brick wall preventing her mind from accessing it.