Deadly Shadows (26 page)

Jessie started laughing. How Aiden loved her laugh; it was full, rich, throaty.

“How young?” Aiden asked her, nudging her knee.

“Any cowgirls?” Gavin inquired at the same time.

“Missy, are you joking?” his father wanted to know.

Jessie finished off her juice. “I don’t know, Gavin. Watch and see,” she answered his brother.“A naked cowgirl, there’s a fantasy,” Gavin nodded and rubbed his hands together.

“Gavin, please, a mother’s ears shouldn’t hear these things.” Kaitlyn shook her head and smiled.“Missy, I asked you a question,” Jock reminded Jessie, while patting the air down next to his wife.“No, I’m not joking. Some of the locals seem to strip at any opportunity. The ski patrol and mountain workers used to wait till the end of the season and….” Jessie lowered her voice.

“Ski down the mountain stark naked.”

“My, God. We’re in Sodom and Gomorrah,” his father replied.

Again her laughter rang out. “It’s not that bad. Some around here are just a little more

… liberated than others.”

“Maybe we should just stay here,” Jock said.

“You wouldn’t be missing much if you did,” she agreed.

What?

“I though you wanted to go to the parade?” Aiden asked her.

Jessie licked syrup off the edge of her mouth, her tongue darting out. Aiden shifted on the couch at his reaction to that simple action.

“Well, I figured if I asked for something big, like the parade, the living room and breakfast wouldn’t seem so drastic.”

She’d manipulated him and he’d fallen for it.

Damn it, this was her health they were talking about. Aiden opened his mouth to say

149

something, pointing his finger at her, but nothing came to mind.

“That’s the way, Jesslyn,” his mother said. “Men bully, and women think. You go, girl.”

Aiden didn’t really care for her input here. You go, girl? Where had his mother learned that? “I’m ready for the parade!” Six-year-old, Victoria Kinncaid, barreled into the living room. Her father, Brayden, followed behind her. “Hi, Jesslyn. Are you feeling better today?

I’m going to the parade. I want to get a balloon.”

Jessie smiled softly at his niece. “I’m feeling much better. Thank you, Victoria.”

The little girl stood by the couch. “Oh, call me Tori. Everyone does. Unless I’m in trouble, then it’s Victoria Reily Kinncaid.”

Jessie’s grin grew. “All right, Miss Victoria Reily Kinncaid, I will call you Tori. Try to talk your daddy into sitting up close to the curb so you can catch the candy the parade people toss.” Tori nodded. “I will.”

Everyone shuffled out. Aiden watched them all go. His mother leaned over and kissed Jessie on the cheek and his father told him to make sure she rested. Gavin winked at her as Bray and Tori made their way out the door. Quinlan didn’t have time for the parade. He was going to the hotel. Christian, or Chris, Bills was the last out of the house, carrying Tori’s backpack.

When the door shut and the house silenced, he turned back to Jessie.

“How does Chris fit in with your family again?” she asked.

“Well, she’s been with our family for six, no seven years. I think.” Hell, he couldn’t remember. “Christian showed up at my parents’ house one weekend when Tori was just a baby.

Hired her as the nanny. She’s helped Bray raise Tori, and been with the family ever since. She’s part of the family. As far as we’re concerned, she’s our sister, and Tori thinks of her as a mom.”

Jessie yawned and sighed.

Aiden reached over and moved the tray. “You tired, Miss Devious?”

Her grin warmed him.

She nodded. Carefully, he picked her up and cradled her next to him. Her fruity shampoo tickled his nose as he carried her up the stairs.

He sat on the bed with her, leaned them back and settled her under the covers. “Do you need anything?”

“Can we turn on the TV?”

He kissed the top of her head and reached for the remote. “You aren’t balking at being back in bed?”

“I got to eat breakfast downstairs, didn’t I?”

She had. Aiden wanted to keep her in bed until she was back to her old self. She was still too damn pale and the side of her face and head was still molted with different shades of purples, blues and greens. He hadn’t asked her this morning, but he wondered if she remembered anything about the attack.

“Besides, I figure if I go along easily, you might let me watch the fireworks tonight downstairs, out on the porch,” she yawned again.

“You can see the valley from the balcony right out there,” he pointed towards the doors that lead out to their private deck. He’d ask her if she remembered anything later. Tomorrow they were supposed to go to the police station to talk to Garrison and a couple of people from CBI.

150

“Yeah, the balcony would work too.”

“Go to sleep.”

“If I do, I won’t sleep tonight,” she said.

Aiden rubbed her shoulder and inwardly sighed. He was worried about her, but he was glad she was home with him. The hospital had her tense and uptight the whole time, and knowing what he did from her and what her father had told him, it was no wonder she couldn’t relax. Too many bad memories on top of a horrifying situation.

Some bastard had tried to kill her, and damn near succeeded. Aiden couldn’t get past that. He looked down at her and noticed she was already asleep. A smile caught him off guard.

She thought she was so strong, and she was, but sometimes she needed someone to take care of her, whether she admitted it or not.

Garrison called daily. The couple of times Jessie had talked to him, she’d become so upset, Aiden had put a stop to it. Now, they were going tomorrow to the station. When he told her they could meet here at the house, she’d replied she didn’t want this brought into her home.

Tammy’s mother had also called. Aiden didn’t know what was said, and Jessie hadn’t told him, but she hadn’t talked for over an hour after that phone conversation.

Ian called every night at the same time. He was currently cross checking missing persons and other unsolved murders in other states. Apparently it was taking longer to find this guy than anyone cared for.

It didn’t matter how long it took. Aiden would find out who the bastard was who dared to touch what was his.

151

Damn. Damn. And damn again. Stupid. So pointlessly stupid. If he’d only finished the
job. He paced his confines, thought about what to do. Berlioz blared through his speakers. The
dissonant notes filled the air as the bells bonged.

The fact Jesslyn was still alive beat at him like a time-bomb.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He wanted to laugh at the whole situation. What were the chances? Not that it mattered.

She was alive, and she was a threat. Still. He stopped, his brow furrowed.

He’d gone to see her in the hospital. Several times in fact. A few she knew about, others
she didn’t.

But she was never alone! It would have been so easy at first, but someone was always
with her, Kinncaid, or one of his brothers, her father, Kinncaid’s father, even his damn mother,
then the doctor and nurses. Hell, the woman always had what might as well have amounted to a
bodyguard.

No, the hospital was out of the question. Though it would have been perfect. No one
would have questioned it much. She’d been so small, frail, weak. It could have been over
before she or anyone else had even realized what had happened. Something in her IV, a pillow
over her head. Or he could just mark her as he did the others. It didn’t matter now.

A sign of the cross. Four perfect points, right over their betraying hearts. To remind
them. To remind them of God’s will. To try and give them redemption in that last moment.

Everyone knew that the way to redemption was through the cross. Through the cross. Through
the cross.

Jesslyn might not be HER, but she still had to die. There was simply no other choice. He
didn’t like it. He didn’t. The thought rolled his stomach, but failure was not an option. He
shook his head and raked his hands through his hair. Not an option. God told him what he must
do, the stars told him what he must do. Everything told him, screamed it in his mind. It didn’t
matter what he wanted.

In that moment like a visage from the depths of his memory, he saw his mother laughing.

Her head thrown back in joyous laugher before she ruffled his hair.

Those had been good times. Times before HER.

He fisted his hands against the side of his head. Then he remembered his father with
HER long red hair slung over his arm as he carried her limp body out into the night.

He remembered the fights, the screams and yells. He remembered finding his mother in
the bathtub.

The sound of his father’s prevaricating voice, the voice the congregation followed,
listened to, prayed with and for, filled his mind. That same voice, lashing out at him, demanding
more. Always more, always better. He could never stray. Never stray. Not like his father.

They’d made him betray his vows with their wicked, evil ways and their black hearts.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

152

He shook his head, fought off the battles of the past, focused on the present, the
possibilities of the future. Slowly, he lowered his hands. Apparently, Jesslyn didn’t remember,
or that was the rumor going around.

But the mind was a funny thing. The simple fact that she could….

He had seen the recognition in her eyes just as he had crushed the flashlight into the side
of her head.

Yes, she had to die. Had to die. Had to die. And soon.

He chewed on his lip. There was a way, there always was. He’d simply watch her, and
strike when she least expected it.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

153

Jesslyn sat in the sparse office of the Police Chief. Aiden stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, a constant comfort and reassurance. Behind the desk sat Chief Garrison.

Lounging against the wall beside Garrison was CBI Agent Steve Litton. By the window was Litton’s partner, Agent Cynthia Jones. The faces of all present were tense and serious.

“Jesslyn, this isn’t an interrogation,” Garrison said again.

“Well, it feels like it. I’ve told you, I don’t remember.” They had been here for at least an hour.Derrick Garrison had come by the hospital once, the house twice, and finally yesterday, Aiden agreed to her coming to the station. Aiden was so protective he was driving her nuts. He was caring, tender, loving, and so incredibly quiet as though a loud noise would hurt her. She’d had enough.

Jesslyn didn’t know what Aiden was so worried about. Okay, so maybe she did. She’d taken, as he had told her, at least ten years off his life.

“Ms. Black, did you hear me?” Agent Litton asked.

With a shake of her head, Jesslyn sighed. “Sorry, no I didn’t.” The man was of medium height, much shorter than Aiden, and in fact shorter than his partner, Agent Jones, who was a tall woman. Dark sandy hair matched the tawny color of his sharp eyes. His features were normal, nothing to notice or draw attention. Jesslyn figured that was a plus in his line of work.

His smile was one of patience, yet one of understanding all the same. “The Colorado Bureau of Investigation is helping in this crime. Chief Garrison called us in to assist with the investigation. We realize it must be difficult for you not to know what happened, and yet we’re pounding you with questions. The fact is, any information you could give us would be greatly appreciated.”

Jesslyn met his stare, silence stretched between them. “And what is it you think I’ve been doing? Knitting?” She regretted her snapped comment. “Look, I realize this is your job and must, at times like this, be incredibly frustrating, or it would be to me. In any case, I will do what I can to help, though I don’t know what I can do.” Jesslyn sighed, felt a headache building, not that she’d ever gotten rid of the thing since she’d awakened in the hospital.

Agent Jones walked to the desk and sat on the front corner facing Jesslyn. Jones had to have Vikings in her family lineage. The woman was six feet tall in flat, practical shoes. Silvery blond hair weaved in a French braid and her sky blue eyes sat perfectly above broad cheek bones.

Where Litton was your average Joe, Jones was a breathtaking goddess. Though her aura appeared icy, reserved and distant, she was the more approachable of the two.

“Why don’t you tell us what you can remember? Anything at all. Maybe that would help.” Her voice was crystalline, soft for such a large woman.

“Yes, I’ll do that. Aiden, sit down, please. You’re making me edgy.” She patted his hand on her shoulder.

He walked to her side and sat back down in the chair he’d vacated earlier. He leaned

154

back and reached towards her with his hand. She grasped it. The look in his eyes was anything but calm. She gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

Jesslyn took a deep breath, then let it out. “I remember bits, more feelings and emotions than any actual events.” The unknown ate at her. She was a control freak. Always liked to know what was going on, when it happened, how it happened, why. Not a single one of those questions was answerable.

Tentatively she said, “Sometimes, like an immediate flash, a thought or feeling shoots through my mind. But most are like smoke. The harder I try, the more elusive the images become.”

Everything she’d found on the cyberspace gateway of knowledge said basically the same thing. There were no guarantees of when or if lost memories would return. Many people simply remembered, others had something trigger the locked box of their minds and yet others had never regained access to lost, hours, weeks, years … The stories had been endless and had made her eyes cross. She knew she shouldn’t complain, at least she remembered something, and for that small amount of knowledge she was thankful. And she was alive.

“I remember fear. That’s always there,” she whispered. Aiden’s hand on hers tightened.

“I remember rain and lightning, thunder and storms.”

She narrowed her eyes, not seeing the occupants in the room, just a fog filled area of her mind, where upon occasion, the mists would part and allow her a quick glimpse of what lay beyond.“I remember being cold. So very, very cold, like ice water flowed instead of blood.”

That had been an odd thing to say.

As had happened since her attack, she felt a chill. She was always cold these days.

Aiden’s thumb absently rubbed to and fro on the back of her hand.

“Maybe the tape will help,” Garrison said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aiden’s head turn sharply.

“Tape?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“What tape?” Aiden asked.

Garrison cleared his throat and laced his fingers together on top of his desk, leaning up on his elbows. “You know your phone was found. Do you remember having your phone?”

Her phone? What did that have to do … “Are you telling me you have the dispatch tape of my call?” That made sense. Of course, they did.

“Yes.” Garrison’s brow furrowed. “You called nine-one-one.”

If there was a tape, maybe it would jar her memory.

Garrison started to say something, and Aiden’s hand tightened on hers. Jones spoke, “Do you want to listen to it?”

Jesslyn thought for a minute, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean what’s….”

“Absolutely not,” Aiden bit out.

She turned to him, then back to the three law officials.

“It might help, right? What did I say on it?” she asked them.

Then the mists parted, sucked her back. Fear exploded as she remembered running, praying for her phone not to screw up as she tried to dial nine-one-one. Slick mud pulled at her feet.

Thunder echoed in her mind, as she tried to grab the wet fender. Hurry. Have to hurry.

She’s dead. Dead … Dead….

155

Jesslyn felt Aiden’s hand on hers, as she tried to catch her breath. Even as she tried to hold on to the terrifying image, it faded.

A chill prickled the skin on her arms. She blinked and brought everyone back into focus.

“What?” Aiden quietly asked. Jesslyn could see the anger simmering in the blue flames of his eyes, and she knew it wasn’t at her, but for her.

She took a breath. “Nothing much really. I remember dialing my phone, and running back to the Jeep. I know I was afraid the phone had screwed up. It was raining--yeah, it was. I slipped in the mud as I rounded the back fender.” Jesslyn thought for a minute more. “I remember thinking she was dead.” Once again she tried, closed her eyes, and concentrated on what she had just seen. “Yeah, I remember thinking she’s dead.” She opened her eyes, blew out a breath and shook her head. “That’s all. That’s--that’s it.”

Damn it, this was so frustrating. Why couldn’t she remember?

“It’s all right. That was good. Really good,” Jones said in her calm voice. Her expression turned thoughtful, then, finally she continued. “You know, I agree with Chief Garrison. I think the tape might help, but it’s your choice.”

Jesslyn looked at Aiden. A muscle bunched in his jaw, and he was entirely too still. He reminded Jesslyn of a wild cat of prey getting ready to spring.

“Fine,” she agreed. “Let’s get this done.”

Litton walked out the office.

Cobalt eyes narrowed at her beneath black brows. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, Aiden, I do. For myself. For Tammy. For Maddy. I can’t stand the not knowing,”

she admitted to him. It was the first time she’d said as much about her memory lapse bothering her.

His sigh was one of resignation. Litton came back in with a mini-recorder, which he set on the desk.

Jesslyn stared at it and looked over at Aiden. He ground his back teeth, his strong jaw moving back and forth.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. His hand on hers tightened almost painfully. The muscle in his jaw quirked. His eyes burned into hers. “I don’t want you going through this again.”

She tilted her head to him. “I’ll be okay. You’re here.”

Yeah, Aiden thought, he was here for all the damn good it was doing. Aiden raked a hand through his hair. He wanted to take her home and get her the hell out of here and away from all this.

Jessie took a deep breath and nodded to Garrison. Her voice filled the room.

“
Hello?
”

“
Nine-one-one dispatch, what’s the emergency?
”

“
Hello? Please, help me. I’m at Emerald Lake! He’s here.…
”

“
Ma’am, who’s there? Are you in danger?
”

Aiden’s heart took a deep breath and he gripped the armrest.

Shambling sounds as though the phone was jostled.

“
Shit. My keys. My keys are gone. Oh, God. Oh, God.
” Her panicked words chilled him. He stared at the recorder that shot arrows into his soul.

“
Ma’am, calm down. Who’s there with you?
” the dispatcher’s voice asked.

“
I don’t know who the hell he is. But she’s, oh God, she’s dead. Please, help me.
”

156

“
Looking for these?
” A new voice said from the background. Aiden fisted his hand as Jessie’s scream tore through him and around the room.

Shuffling noises muffled in silence.

Then panting, puffing as though someone were running.
Thunder crackled through the small office, the rhythmic pound of something. Feet?

“
Ma’am?
”

She was running--trying to get away. Aiden’s blood froze at what he was hearing.

Someone gasped. Thunk. The silence stretched.

“
No!
” she screamed.

A black cloud roiled and built within him. The terror. The horror.

More scuffles and scampering sounds filled the air.

Another piercing cry shot through him.
Oh. My. God.

“
Ma’am
?” the dispatcher tried.

“
Please,
” Jessie whimpered.

At the terrified sound, something in him roared.

“
Bitch. You’re no different than the rest of them are you?
” A low graveled voice grated out. “
I ought to cut your throat for that.
”

“
Ma’am! Ma’am!
” the dispatcher yelled.

Silence

“Jesus Christ,” Aiden muttered. He looked at Jessie. She was white as a sheet and he didn’t know who held whose hand tighter.

He bit down, felt the muscle in his jaw bunch. Jessie’s eyes were closed and her fisted hand was white knuckled. This had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.

“Jessie?”

She shook her head.

The words jumbled through her mind as though trying to find their place in a scattered puzzle. Bouncing and jarring against what she knew and what she didn’t.

“Looking for these?”
The voice tugged at her, made her blood freeze in her veins. Her own scream seemed to plead with her.

Jesslyn sat frozen in place while the short message played out.

“…
I ought to cut your throat for that.
”

Cut your throat … Cut your throat….

It was so damn close! Jesslyn felt like screaming. She could feel herself start to tremble, and she stiffened to try and keep them under control.

“Again,” she said, barely a whisper, but commanded all the same.

“Jesslyn,” Aiden said, his voice barely containing the fury she felt coming from him.

She ignored him, but squeezed his hand even tighter than she already was.

This time, she was prepared. Jesslyn closed her eyes, let the words fall where they would, concentrated on the noises, the sounds. Slowly, images, forms and shapes drew together.

Lightning flashed all around
.
The thunder ripped the air apart.

Hurry. Had to hurry. Coming, the monster’s coming.

Jesslyn’s chest tightened, her breath came quicker.

Scuffling noises.

“…
throat for that.
”

Her hand flew to her neck. Fingered the small scabbed slice across the column. Death

157

above. Flashlight. Cold. The knife was so cold, stinging where it cut.

Just as quickly the vision was gone.

Jesslyn felt her hand tremble in Aiden’s.

“What did you mean, death above?” Jones asked. Only then did she realize she’d spoken out loud.She took a deep breath, tried to calm her jittering nerves. She thought about the question, what she had seen. “Like--um….” She swallowed, attempting to ease the dryness of her throat,