Fractured Memory (11 page)

“I don’t know how this pertains to what’s happening now,” Ben said.

Eli put the phone back in his pocket. “I disagree. We didn’t really know how the victims were tied together other than they were all medical professionals. We thought that was perhaps Dr. Heller’s type, and he chose them based on that.”

“And now?” Julia asked.

“If you know this person and you worked together, then perhaps we’ve thought about this case the wrong way. Maybe you weren’t chosen by the Hangman because you were a medical professional, but based on where you worked. That would make more sense as far as his hunting ground goes. We know you and Mark Heller worked together, but we didn’t find a significant tie to the hospital with the other victims. The victim found in Wyoming totally threw us off.”

Eli scratched his head. “What this tells me is that we need to go back and verify whether the link could be the hospital and not just some random choosing of health-care workers like we thought before.”

Ben smiled. “Good work, Julia. Did you suddenly remember this?”

“I used to keep a journal of the patients I cared for. I know with patient privacy and all that I probably shouldn’t, but it’s a way for me to process what happens.”

“How long have you kept this journal?” Eli asked.

“Since I started nursing school.”

“And when did you stop?”

“The day I was attacked.”

“You didn’t keep journaling when you went back to nursing?” Ben asked.

“Maybe I was dealing with too much just trying to survive the day to think about processing anything extra.”

“Julia, would you mind if I looked through it tonight?” Ben asked. “I’ll be up anyway and I’ll see if I can find any more clues that could give us insight into your case.”

Instinctually, she resisted Ben’s suggestion. Of course, she wanted to do whatever she could to help solve this case. To get her freedom back. But there was too much there—her soul bared on the page. What would he think of her?

No, it was too much to ask.

“I’ll—”

“Julia, it’s okay. I can see your reluctance.” Eli turned to Ben. “Let her look over it, and I’m sure she’ll let us know if there’s anything relevant. Tomorrow, after your appointment, we’ll see if we can tie the victims together. Okay? Are we good here?”

Julia was. The look on Ben’s face suggested otherwise.

TWELVE

J
ulia laid in bed watching the soft breeze caress and curl her curtains with a playful whimsy she wished she could swallow up to ease the pressure she felt in her chest. She missed Eli. Missed everything about him. His quirky half smile. The glimmer of his blue eyes. The feel of his soft lips against hers. Was there any hope for the two of them? Perhaps that was the benefit of her case going unsolved—she and Eli could be together. Even if they couldn’t be together in the way she was beginning to dream and hope for.

Without warning, a concussive blast wave tore through the room. Heat surged on Julia’s face before the sound of the explosion hit her eardrums. The rupture of light confused her. Shards of glass raked across her face as if she’d been slapped by a cactus.

She bolted up in bed. Wind blew unencumbered through her broken bedroom windows, her curtains in shreds from the glass that tore through the thin fabric propelled by the force of a fiery air mass displacing the quiet of the night. When Julia glanced out her window—all she could see was red-hot angry flames consuming the house next door.

Ben crashed through her door and ran to her bed, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her from the warmth of her covers.

Her mind reeled back to a moment in time she didn’t want to relive. The same crash of a male form through her door and grabbing her—overpowering her and knocking her backward onto the floor, then...

She cocked her arm and with all her might swung her fist into the man’s jaw.

This will not happen to me again.

The man backpedaled, rubbing his chin where her fist met his flesh. “Julia! It’s Ben. The house next door...”

Julia brushed her fingertips over her face, collecting warm thick fluid. She blinked several times and came back to the present. “What’s happening?”

Ben approached her more slowly, his hands raised yet reaching for her. The light from the flames next door illuminated the room enough that she could see Jace enter her bedroom, as well. “There’s been an explosion. The house next door—is just gone. We need to evacuate you.”

Julia’s adrenaline-laced mind tried to make sense of what he was saying.

Her heart hammered in her ears.

Were her neighbors home?

Julia raced past the two men. She could hear Jace talking into his wrist mic behind her—notifying whoever was on the other side to dispatch 911 to their location. She heard Eli’s name in the litany of commands he listed off with hastened breath. Julia’s feet hit the steps, and she missed the last one, falling hard on the landing on her knees and elbows. Plywood still covered her picture window. As she clambered up the door to release the lock, Ben dropped his body weight on her legs—trapping her.

Bile raced up her throat and filled her mouth. Her mind switched to her old house. A shadowy figure trapped her legs there, too. She kicked, hard—a foot getting loose and connecting with the man’s face.

“Julia, what is the matter with you!” Ben yelled. “We need to evacuate.”

She scrambled to her feet, swallowing several times to clear the cool rush of saliva from her mouth. She threw the dead bolt open.

“You can’t go out there without us.” Ben reached for her, and she backed up to the door.

Jace cleared the staircase. Julia turned and yanked the door open. After rushing a few steps outside, she saw Mrs. Jones and her son, Levi, lying on their front lawn.

Even at this distance it felt as if the flames would melt the flesh from her bones. Charging past Ben back into her house, she rushed into her kitchen and grabbed a toolbox from underneath her sink.

What it contained was a far cry from the hammer and screwdrivers most men carried—it was her personal trauma kit, and she needed it now.

Ben rushed in behind her and blocked her from exiting the kitchen. His chest heaved. “Julia—you have to listen to me. I don’t want to detain you, but you’re not leaving.”

You’re not leaving.

Those same words. How was it possible? Julia withered to her knees, her body shaking so badly she couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

Whatever caused the explosion next door—it was triggering memories from her attack. She pulled the toolbox toward her and stood up on shaky legs. “I’m going next door. You and Jace can either help or get out of my way. If you detain me, I’ll hire a lawyer and file charges against you. I’m not your prisoner!”

Ben’s eyes widened. He tossed his hands in the air and stepped aside. Somehow, even with jellyfish legs, she rushed by him and down her porch steps.

She positioned herself between Mrs. Jones and her son and threw the lid open on her first aid kit. Levi—the definition of a towhead blond if there ever was one—was crying, his hand clutching a piece of glass that punctured the right side of his chest. His mother lay crumpled on the ground next to him, unmoving.

Julia placed a calming hand on his forehead. “Levi, it’s Miss Julia. Is your dad home?”

He threw his head side to side—the pain a muzzle to his words.

One good thing. If someone was still inside their house, they would be beyond rescue.

“I’m going to help you, but I need to check on your mom first.”

He continued to cry. Ben and Jace hovered next to her, uncertainty clouded their faces. Jace had a gun drawn and scanned the area like a hawk looking for prey.

“Ben, you’re a certified first responder, right?”

He nodded and kneeled down next to her.

“I need to get her on her back so I can see if she’s breathing, but I need to protect her spinal cord. Can you help me logroll her?”

Julia scurried to the woman’s head and placed her hands on either side of her neck. Ben reached across her body and placed a hand on her hip and shoulder.

“On three.”

Ben nodded and Julia counted out loud. In one seamless motion they eased her onto her back. Blood dripped from the woman’s ears. Julia settled her cheek over her mouth. A soft, panting breath puffed against her skin. She placed two fingers in the side of the woman’s neck.

A pulse was present.

“She’s breathing with a decent pulse. Not much we can do for her until rescue gets here.”

Walking on her knees to Levi, she grabbed a pair of trauma sheers from her first aid box. Quickly, she cut up the middle of his shirt and through each sleeve and lifted the fabric from his chest. A large glass shard was embedded in his chest on the right side—near the base of his lung. Blood oozed at a steady pace from the wound. Julia threw on a pair of gloves, handed a set to Ben and grabbed a package that held several square pieces of gauze.

“Put the gloves on and then place these around the glass and press. We need to control the bleeding.”

Ben pulled the gloves on and did as instructed. Pulling the top tray from her kit, Julia found her old stethoscope in the bottom from nursing school. She laid the stethoscope’s bell against Levi’s chest. She could hear breath sounds even to the base of the right lung.

She sat back on her heels, relief flooding through her.

The glass seemingly hadn’t punctured the lung, but it could have cut through his liver, which would lead to rapid blood loss if not controlled.

She smoothed her fingers through his hair. “Levi, things will be okay. Breathe with me.” Julia inhaled deeply and held her breath.

Levi tossed his head side to side. “It hurts!”

Ben continued to stack gauze around the shard of glass to stabilize it and began to secure them down with wide swaths of medical tape.

Julia reached for his hand “I know, but you’re so brave. Everything is going to be okay.”

“What about my mom?” he cried.

Julia’s heart tore open. It was a basic tenet of pediatric nursing that children were never lied to. There was always the balance of telling the truth without provoking more anxiety. She settled her hand against his cheek. “She’s injured but breathing.”

Sirens...finally. The whoosh and squeal of brakes. A small army of firefighters dressed in bunker gear disembarked from three trucks. Their reflective stripes made them look like disembodied stick figures dancing. Three men grabbed fire hoses from the back of the truck. Two at the nearest fire hydrant. An ambulance screeched to a halt and a paramedic team dressed in navy blue slacks and white shirts pulled a gurney from the back.

Three other firefighters neared Julia and Ben on the lawn. “What do we have?”

“This is Deanna Jones. Approx forty-five. I found her on the lawn. She’s unconscious but has a pulse and is breathing.” Julia motioned to the boy. “This is her son, Levi. He has a large piece of glass in his chest that we’ve stabilized in place to control the bleeding.”

The firefighter peeled his hat off. “What about you?” He reached toward Julia’s face.

In her haste to help her neighbors, she’d forgotten the blood she felt on her own face. “I’m fine—really.”

A black car squealed to a halt at the base of her driveway and Eli bolted from it, his hand on his weapon as he closed the distance between them.

Ben stood up from where he’d been kneeling next to the boy as the firefighters took over his care.

“What happened?” Eli asked.

“It’s like I told you—the neighbor’s house just exploded.” Water gushed through the firefighter’s hoses. Julia’s mouth dried as she saw small areas where her roof was burning. Another hose began streaming water to the side of her house and onto the roof itself—water pouring through her shattered bedroom windows.

Eli grabbed Julia’s elbow. “You’re coming with me.”

She yanked her arm free. “I’m going to the hospital with Deanna and Levi. She doesn’t have any family here, and no one will be there for Levi until she wakes up or his father arrives.”

Eli grabbed her arm again and pulled her close, his hand behind her neck, his lips hot against her as his breath funneled into her ear. “You will come with me. Right. Now.”

The intensity of his words scared her, and suddenly the gravity of the situation hit her like a wrecking ball. Jace continued to scope the area. Ben nodded at her, confirming Eli’s directive.

Her knees softened, and she bent over to ease the light-headedness. Was this her fault? Had her mere presence in her own home put these people’s lives at risk?

Eli hurriedly guided her to his car. Moments after she secured her seat belt, Eli peeled out down the street.

“Where are we going?”

“The only place I know that is truly safe—my house.”

* * *

Eli gripped his steering wheel so tight that his hands ached, his eyes laser-focused on the road in front of them. He made a covert check of the rearview mirror every few seconds. At four o’clock in the morning, there wasn’t much traffic, a blessing because it would be easier to tell if someone was following them.

So far, so good.

Julia sat as still as a hunted animal in hiding. The blank stare in her eyes petrified. What could he say to lessen what she was feeling? The truth was she now realized how diabolically intent the hit man was on collecting his money.

Four incidents in the span of four days. It was a pattern. What disturbed Eli more was that he couldn’t rule out someone on Julia’s detail being involved. At a minimum, someone had to be feeding the hit man information on their whereabouts. Had Julia’s hit man accidentally gotten the wrong house? What member of Eli’s team could be involved? The same agent had not been present at all four events, and at each event every agent had a partner with him. Was it someone from the office?

Eli arched his shoulders and tried to ease the muscle soreness. Was this paranoia? Even though he was convinced none of these instances were accidental, why would someone on his team be involved? If they were, how were they connected to the Hangman?

Parking his car in his driveway, he said, “Stay here until I come and get you.”

He slid from the vehicle and paced to the other side. Keeping a hand on his gun, he pulled the door open and reached for Julia’s hand. She willingly took his hand, and he escorted her up the stairs to his third-story apartment.

Eli led her into the kitchen and settled her on a bar stool by his kitchen counter. Reaching for her chin, he pulled it up until her eyes met his. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and he felt his eyes moisten in response.

Please, Lord. Help me ease her pain. Let me do and say the right thing.

“Does anything hurt? Should I have taken you to the hospital?”

Almost imperceptivity, she shook her head at his statement.

He left her and moistened a towel with warm water. When he circled back, he wiped the blood and tears from her face. He grit his teeth against a desire to plant soft kisses where the glass had parted skin.

As gently as he could, he washed the dried crimson crust from her face. There were also cuts to the side of her neck, hands and feet. “What else should I do to treat these? They’re small cuts. I don’t think you need stitches.”

“Antibiotic ointment.”

He was relieved to have some on hand. Gathering what he needed, he returned to her quickly. Placing small gobs on the end of a Q-tip, he brushed the ointment over her injuries.

Eli placed his hands on her knees. “Julia, please talk to me. I can’t take this silence.”

Her lips trembled, and all his work to clear her tears was undone.

Though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t cross a professional line, he gathered her in his arms and held her against him. After countless minutes, he could feel her heart beat less erratically against his chest. The tension in her muscles eased to the point where it became difficult to differentiate her body from his. He stroked her hair, breathing in its soft citrus scent.

Julia fit perfectly against him. His father always told him when he found a girl whose body melted against his own like a missing puzzle piece—she was the one God designed to be his forever.

When her trembling stopped, he reluctantly eased back.

“Don’t leave me again,” she said.

“I promise, I won’t.”

Julia smoothed her hair from her eyes. “Something happened after the explosion. I remembered more. It was all mixed in with Ben trying to get me out of the house.”