“Can I see your hands?” Mac repeated.
He closed his eyes knowing exactly how this was going to look. Finally, he jerked his arms up, displaying his scraped and bruised knuckles.
He didn’t know how it happened. He woke up this morning, and they’d ached. Hurt.
He’d figured he’d had a bad dream and had punched the headboard.
Not that he’d beaten up someone.
Could he really have done this?
Based on the look in Mac’s eyes, Braden could have . . . and it would be hard to prove to anyone otherwise.
“So, let me get this straight,” Wes said. “You met this Braden Dillinger guy four days ago. You thought he was going to kill you, but then you ended up liking him. Really liking him. But now he’s forgotten you, and he may have nearly beaten someone to death?”
Lisa squeezed the skin between her eyes. “Yes, I guess you could sum it up that way. I wouldn’t have used those exact words.”
She’d called an emergency meeting of her friends . . . mostly because she had no idea what else to do or how else to sort through her thoughts.
They’d all shown up here at the Crazy Chefette an hour later.
And that hour while waiting for them to arrive had nearly done her in. She hadn’t been able to sit still with her thoughts. No, instead she’d decided to cook. Keeping Thanksgiving in mind, she made some fried mashed potato balls with goat cheese, pumpkin pecan bread pudding, apples stuffed with sausage and cornmeal, and a bacon and mayonnaise wrapped turkey breast.
Now the place smelled like Thanksgiving, and a feast had been set up on the table so her friends could eat while they listened to her problems. Food always made everything better.
If only that were true.
There was no way food could truly make this better. No, it would only make it more pleasant.
By training, Lisa was a scientist. She created hypotheses and tested them. Sometimes, those hypotheses were proven correct. Other times, she’d been proven dead wrong.
Had she been dead wrong when it came to Braden?
“Maybe you should stay away from him, Lisa,” Austin said. He sat at the table, beside Skye—of course—and he grabbed his second mashed potato ball.
Apparently, they were a favorite out of everything she’d made because they were going fast.
She understood where Austin was coming from but . . . “I don’t think he would have done this.”
“You said the timeline fits, right?” Wes had come directly from kayaking, and he still wore a wetsuit, along with a knit hat on his shaved head. “That Braden left here at 11:30, and that John was beat up not long after? And that his body was found between your place and Ty’s?”
Lisa nodded, the bad feeling in her gut growing worse by the moment. She knew how this looked and sounded. And, if she were in her friends’ shoes, she’d tell herself to run as quickly as she could from this man.
The problem was, she didn’t want to run. She’d been trying to convince herself to do just that all morning, and it hadn’t worked. No, she was more determined than ever to stay and fight.
“But . . .” Lisa didn’t even know what she was going to say. Finally, she hung her head and sighed. “I’ve got nothing.”
“If not Braden, then who might have done it?” Wes asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, someone shot out my window. And—” Lisa stopped herself.
“And what?” Austin tilted his head and leaned closer as he waited for her to finish.
“It’s probably nothing,” she said, wanting to take back what she’d started to say.
Wes crossed his arms and stared at Lisa. “Let us be the judge of that.”
“The other night, someone was standing outside my place. I’m pretty sure he took a picture. I saw a flash.”
“And you’re just now mentioning this?” Wes’s voice held surprise and maybe a touch of agitation.
“I figured it was my imagination going wild.” Now that Lisa said it out loud, she realized that maybe she should have said something. There was nothing normal about that.
“Was Braden with you when you saw the figure and the flash?” Austin asked.
Lisa shook her head.
This was looking worse and worse. She couldn’t even deny it. Every time something strange had happened, Braden was away.
Or was he?
Since Lisa couldn’t offer him an alibi, did that mean he really might be the one responsible?
“Will you just listen to me for a minute, though.” Lisa felt desperate to make her friends see things her way. “Someone is trying to kill Braden.”
Her friends stared at her.
“I know it sounds crazy. But I saw the threat myself.”
“What does this have to do with John?” Wes asked.
“What if . . . I don’t know.” Lisa searched for an explanation. “What if someone set Braden up?”
“I’m not saying I buy that explanation, but keep going,” Austin said. “Who’s trying to kill him?”
“He doesn’t know. But he stopped a terrorist attack with a group called The Revolt. Apparently, he made a lot of enemies, and now they want to exact revenge on him.”
“He was a part of that?” Skye’s eyes widened, as if impressed. “The Revolt has some scary guys. I heard about them on the news, and I hardly ever watch the news.”
“Yeah, they are scary. Deadly. And if they were to find out Braden’s name, they’d do everything within their power to make him pay.”
Wes shifted. “That sounds heroic and everything. If that’s all true, then I’m impressed. Taking on people like that . . . it takes courage. But what if that really didn’t happen? What if Braden is suffering from grandiose delusions or something?”
Everyone turned to stare at Wes.
Wes shrugged. “What? I like to read and keep up with current events. And I know some mental disorders involve delusions of grandeur.”
“In some cases, I might believe you,” Lisa said. “But Ty can verify his military service.”
“True.” Wes shrugged again.
Austin finished his food and leaned back, his eyes heavy with thought. “And you think one of these terrorists could have followed him here?”
“I’m just asking that we might explore that idea.” Lisa glanced around the table. “Have any of you seen anyone strange in town? Wes, you see people when they come in for kayak tours. Skye, people stop by your produce stand to buy pumpkins and mums this time of year. Austin, you’re a social guy. Anything?”
Her friends exchanged another look. “It would be hard to pinpoint members of The Revolt, Lisa. These guys look like European Americans. They blend in.”
“I’m just asking about visitors. They are few and far between here on the island this time of year.”
“There were two guys who stopped by the produce stand yesterday,” Skye said. “They seemed like the hunting and fishing type. They were kind of quiet. I mean, I’m not saying they’re killers . . .”
Lisa’s pulse jumped. “Did they say anything?”
“Just that they’re staying at one of the small cottages and that they come every year.”
Lisa frowned. “Every year?” Someone who was a regular vacationer here was unlikely to be the person responsible.
“That’s what they said.”
Lisa glanced at Austin and Wes. “What about you two?”
Austin shrugged, looking a bit bewildered. “I’ve been wrapped up in some renovation projects. I haven’t really seen anyone, other than the homeowners.”
“It’s true,” Skye said. “He’s been really busy.”
Lisa looked at just Wes now. He was the last man standing.
He let out a long breath and shook his head. His features looked stony. And when Wes, someone who feared nothing and lived on adrenaline, looked nervous, it was never a good sign. “Listen, I really don’t know. And I don’t want to point the finger at anyone. I will say that I’ve seen a guy in town who seems out of
place. He seemed urban, if you know what I mean. Not like the laid-back out-of-towners who go to the beach.”
Lisa sat up straight. At least it was something. “Did you talk to this guy?”
Wes shrugged. “Not really. I worked on the plumbing at his rental.”
“Think, Wes. Was there anything he said or did that might indicate he had less than honorable intentions for being here?”
Wes rubbed his jaw. “I think he said he was from Virginia Beach.”
Her pulse spiked again. “Anything else?”
“Don’t read too much into this.” He raised a hand, as if trying to slow down her thoughts. “But I do think he said he was here looking for someone.”
Maybe that was the guy. Lisa had no idea the details or intricacies of her theories. She only knew she wanted to believe, more than anything, that Braden wasn’t the guy responsible for this crime against John.
She wanted his memory to come back. Wanted for things to flip back and be like they’d been yesterday when she’d felt on top of the world. Why couldn’t good things last forever?
Suddenly, something banged in the distance.
Lisa nearly jumped out of her seat.
She turned and saw Braden standing at the front door.
Did he finally remember her?
Or was he here because he was angry—angry because Lisa had given him up?
She had no idea. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
Chapter Nineteen
Braden saw Lisa sauntering toward the door, and his stomach clenched tighter. What was he doing here at the Crazy Chefette? What was he thinking showing up without an invitation?
He wasn’t sure. Braden only knew that he was alone here on this island, with no one to believe him, no one to talk to, and a serious accusation thrown out against him.
Sometimes he’d welcome the isolation. But right now, he wanted answers. He wanted to know what had happened last night. And Mac had indicated Lisa might know.
As he stared at her kind, sweet face, his heart twisted. Why did he feel like he knew Lisa better than he did? Was there something he’d forgotten? By all indications, yes.
It just didn’t make sense.
He remembered Mac. He remembered this restaurant. He vaguely remembered apple pie even.
So why had he forgotten Lisa?
She cracked the door open just a smidgen, hesitation evident on her features. “Yes?”
As a brisk wind brushed across his exposed skin, he rubbed his hands together. “I’m sorry to show up here like this, but I was hoping to ask you some questions.”
She glanced behind her, and Braden saw people at a table there.
Her friends.
He recognized them—though he didn’t remember their names. But they’d all met. Why did he remember that but not Lisa?
Lisa stared at him another moment before opening the door and letting him step inside.
He tried to read her expression. She was hesitant, definitely. Maybe a little nervous. But was there more to it? She almost seemed sad also. But why? What was he missing?
As soon as the door closed, one of her friends appeared beside her. A man with a close shaved head and a lean, sculpted build. Maybe his name was Wes. Why did Braden remember that but not Lisa?
“What’s going on?” the man asked, obviously protective of Lisa.
“Please, I just want to talk.” Braden glanced at Lisa. “I’m trying to fill in some missing memories, and I was hoping you could help.”
Lisa crossed her arms, not in defiance. No, it was more of a protective measure. Was she scared of him? If so, why? “What do you need to know?”
Braden shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need to know what happened last night.”
Her cheeks reddened ever so slightly, and she rubbed her lips together. She and Wes glanced at each other, some kind of silent conversation taking place.
Finally, she nodded, as if accepting Braden’s presence here. “Okay. Why don’t you have a seat? I’m going to need some coffee for this. You?”
“I’d love some.” Braden ran a hand over his face, feeling exhausted from today’s turn of events. It was strange how, only hours earlier, he’d felt invigorated and refreshed.
Now all of that had changed.
He balled his hands into tight fists before releasing them and stretching his aching fingers. Then he did it again.
“Lisa, Skye and I have to leave,” the other man said. “The guy is coming to check the septic system at that house we’re flipping, and he should be there in ten minutes. Will you be okay?”
“I’m going to stay with her,” Wes said, his voice hard.
“We’ll be fine.” Lisa held up a cup of coffee as if it were the magical solution that made everything better.
Wes didn’t look as sure, but Braden couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay. There were too many missing pieces for anyone to let their guard down.
Lisa handed Braden his drink and nodded toward a booth. “Let’s sit.”
Braden felt more nervous than he thought he would as he slid in across from Lisa and Wes. Neither of them said anything. They just waited for him to start.
The problem was, he hardly knew where to begin.
“The only thing I remember from yesterday was walking here,” Braden said, blurry images filling his mind. “And I remember fixing a window. But everything else is a blur.”
Lisa blinked and swallowed hard. “You don’t remember anything else?”
He shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “I remember meeting you, Wes. But the first time I remember you, Lisa, is from the very first day I came into town. And then there’s nothing else until this morning.”
“Where did that other time go?” Wes said.
“I have memory issues. Big blocks of time are often black for me. But never that big of a time period.” Braden shook his head as another memory tried to surface. “It’s weird. I feel like there’s a vague recollection trying to surface. It has to do with apple pie.”
Lisa’s eyes lit. “We ate apple pie yesterday. I experimented with recipes, and you were my guinea pig.”
Braden was her guinea pig? He’d assumed the two of them had practically been strangers. Was there more to their background? He felt like he was lost with no roadmap to follow and failing instincts.
“I can’t remember the man I supposedly beat up either.” He absently rubbed the side of his coffee mug.
“John came in here and gave me a hard time,” Lisa said. “You stepped in and . . . and protected me . . . until he went away.”
“And I was here last night? Until 11:30?” His head pounded as he tried to make sense of things.
“That’s right. You left and insisted you wanted to walk home.” She took a long sip of her coffee.
“And, according to the police, I may have run into this John guy as I walked?”
“If you did, it would have to be because he was waiting for you,” Lisa said. “To my knowledge, you had no idea where he lived.”
“That’s the impression I got from Mac also. The only reason I would have run into that man was if he’d planned it. I couldn’t have hunted him down.” If the man had confronted him, would Braden have done this to him? Only if he’d been defending himself.
“It did, at one point last night, sound like someone rattled the front doors, as if trying to get in.” Lisa dragged her gaze up to him.
“Maybe John?” Braden questioned.
Lisa shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What if I did this?” The thought wouldn’t leave his mind.
Lisa leaned closer, no hints of judgment in her eyes, only compassion. “Braden, you told me that someone was trying to kill you. Do you remember that?”
His spine clenched tighter at the reminder. He’d trusted her enough to tell her that? It wasn’t something he just told anyone. “Yeah, I can’t forget that.”
“What if someone set you up?”
Lisa’s words startled Braden. “Why woul
d they do that?”
“Because they said they were coming for you.”
His mind raced through the texts he’d discovered.
“Maybe we could find the person who is responsible.”
“Lisa . . .” Wes said. His voice held caution. He didn’t approve of her idea.
And he probably shouldn’t.
“I’m just brainstorming—doing what I do best and putting out a hypothesis that we may want to test.”
“I appreciate that, but testing new recipes is a lot less risky than testing out theories that could put your life at risk.” Wes turned to Braden. “Listen, do all of these blackouts occur at night?”
“Usually. Why?”
“If you are innocent—and I don’t know you well enough to know if you are or not—then something is happening at night. Have you ever set up a video camera?”
“Funny you ask that. I did try it once, but in the morning it had been knocked over, and there was nothing on it.”
Wes exchanged another glance with Lisa.
“Maybe Austin and I need to stay over there with you tonight. We need to get to the bottom of what’s going on. The only way we’re going to do that is by finding out what happens when you black out.”
“I’d do anything to find answers.” Braden just hoped those answers were what he wanted to hear and didn’t incriminate him further.
Wes nodded slowly. “Okay then. Let me talk to my friends, and we can plan on doing that. Listen, you’re a friend of Ty’s, and that means you’re a friend of ours. I want to help you. I really do. I just don’t want anyone getting hurt in the process.”
By anyone, he had a feeling Wes meant Lisa.
Braden didn’t remember much about Lisa, but he knew that he didn’t want her getting hurt either.
Chapter Twenty
Lisa glanced at Wes as he sat on guard beside her. Her throat burned as pressure seemed to mount around her.
She desperately wanted to talk to Braden. Alone.
Clearing her throat, she turned toward her friend, praying her words would be well received. “Wes, you can go. I know you have things to do today.”
His eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to read her. “I don’t mind staying.”
Shadow of Intrigue Page 11
