Читать книгу Lost Rodeo Memories - Jenna Night - Страница 15

“The guy who lives in the house next to the coffee shop, Jon Stoker, called the cops to report the attack on you,” Luke said to Melanie. “His dog wouldn’t stop barking. He came out to see what the problem was and saw someone with a blanket pulled over your head, dragging you across the parking lot.”

Melanie touched her fingertips to her lower lip, grateful to be alive and appreciating more than ever the ability to take a deep breath.

“When Mr. Stoker saw what was happening, he yelled and the person dragging you let go of the blanket and ran. Mr. Stoker hurried into his house for his phone and then came back outside while he called 9-1-1. He heard the roar of some kind of vehicle driving off, but he couldn’t actually see it.”

Melanie had apparently regained consciousness right after the attacker had let go of her. Anna had heard the commotion and hurried outside. She had pulled the blanket off Melanie just as Melanie was opening her eyes.

“The Bowen city police have been out, patrolling the neighborhood and going door-to-door, looking for anybody who witnessed anything. They also talked to customers and employees inside the coffee shop.”

Melanie, Luke and Anna were sitting in the front parlor of Anna’s house. Both Melanie and Anna loved vintage clothes, jewelry and home furnishings. The heavy furniture, thick curtains tied back with knotted silk tassels, crocheted doilies on the table tops and richly colored rugs on the hardwood floor gave Melanie a familiar feeling of stability and comfort. Something she desperately needed right now.

Luke had called ahead to ask if he could visit with Melanie for a few minutes. He’d arrived a short time ago, and Anna had invited him in and offered him tea, which he’d politely declined.

Luke sat in an upholstered club chair, with his sheriff’s-department-issued cowboy hat in hand, leaning forward a little as though he were already anxious to leave. Melanie was across from him, seated at the end of a couch, clutching the couch’s arm so tightly, her right hand was nearly numb. But she didn’t care. It was something solid. And right now there wasn’t much in her life that felt solid. Instead everything seemed disturbingly dreamlike. Normal life felt like something that had vanished a thousand years ago.

Anna sat close to her in a rocking chair.

“Did you go back to the hospital and get checked out by the doctor after this second attack?” Luke asked.

Melanie started to nod. Pain made her stop. Her neck was stiff after being grabbed and dragged in the alley, and she had a pounding headache again. Those pains didn’t mix well with the slight wave of dizziness that had come and gone, repeatedly, since she woke up this morning. For the moment it seemed best to stay as still as possible.

“I did see a doctor,” she answered. “I have no new injuries, other than a sore neck.” And a sense of impending panic that had started as soon as she had left the hospital, and it was apparently going to hang around for a while.

“This time I had nothing for anyone to steal,” she said to the large lawman sitting across from her. “I didn’t have my purse. I left it in the car. I wasn’t even wearing any of my jewelry. They made me take it off when I arrived at the hospital, and I put it in my purse.” Not that it was extremely valuable. She wore what she made. She’d splurged and made a few pieces using gold, but the vast majority of her jewelry was made of silver and semiprecious stones. She couldn’t afford anything more elaborate.

“This wasn’t a robbery,” Melanie said, with her voice sounding scratchy and tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “So, why is this happening to me?”

“I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” Luke cleared his throat. “Tell me what was in the lockbox,” he said. “Maybe that has something to do with all of this.”

Melanie blinked several times, trying to figure out what he was talking about. “What lockbox?”

“Peter told me you had a blue lockbox with you, all three days of the rodeo, and that it was with you in the truck when he saw you just before the attack at the fairgrounds. After that it was missing. It hasn’t turned up yet.”

Melanie stared at him, trying hard to remember her time at the rodeo, here in Miles County. But her efforts brought her straight to a blank wall. And the harder she tried to remember, the closer she got to that feeling of panic. “I can’t remember,” she whispered, afraid that if she spoke normally, she’d burst into tears or scream.

“You have that beige metal box you’ve used as a cashbox for a while,” Anna said. “Where is it?”

Melanie glanced at her cousin. “You can’t seriously be asking me that,” she said. “I don’t know where I’ve been for the last two weeks. How could I possibly know where that box is?” She started to shake her head and stopped when the pain started. “I don’t even know where the items I had left over at the end of the rodeo are.”

“Your trailer is still locked,” Luke said. “I haven’t seen inside it. But I have seen inside your truck. There are several clear storage boxes stacked in the back seat. Looks like your jewelry is in there.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Melanie said. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

“I can drive your truck and trailer back here,” Luke said. “Or wherever you’d like me to take them. You live here, correct?”

“Yes.” Melanie glanced at Anna, feeling bad for having just snapped at her. “I’ve lived here for the last year.”

Luke turned to Anna. “So, you know for certain that Melanie has been in town for the last two weeks, even though she doesn’t remember it?”

“Yes.” Anna nodded. “You came straight back here after your trip to Wyoming,” she said, directing the rest of her response to Melanie. “You arrived on time. You were happy. You’d sold some jewelry and that oak-dresser-and-nightstand set you’d restored. The one you bought from the Wilsons.”

“I remember that,” Melanie said, feeling like recalling it was some kind of triumph. “I remember arriving in Leopold early and going to the big flea market in the parking lot outside the rodeo, looking for things I could buy and fix up and then resell. I remember getting my booth set up inside the rodeo grounds and talking to customers. And I remember selling that oak-dresser-and-nightstand set to a newlywed couple.” Why was it that she could remember being at the rodeo in Wyoming, remember making that sale, remember packing up when it was all over and then...nothing?

“Stop it,” her cousin commanded in a kind tone. Anna glanced at Luke. “Her doctor told her not to try too hard to remember that missing stretch of time and risk getting herself upset. She’s supposed to relax and let her mind and body heal.”

“I’d like to see you relax after going through what I’ve been through,” Melanie grumbled. “I just think something must have happened after I packed up in Wyoming. Otherwise, why does my memory end there?”

“The doctor said recent memories sometimes disappear after a head injury like yours,” Anna said. “That trip was recent. Doesn’t mean anything significant happened there. And the doctor said there’s a good chance your memory will come back.”

Anna turned to Luke. “If you look at the security video from the bank and from several different stores in town, you’ll see she was here. And we can find plenty of witnesses if we need to.” She looked at Melanie. “You’ve got a hard head. Getting hit by a tree branch couldn’t have done that much damage. You’ll be fine. Give it time.”

Despite feeling miserable, Melanie mustered a slight smile. She didn’t have much family living around Bowen anymore, just a couple of cousins on her mother’s side and her dad’s widower uncle, and sometimes that bothered her. But the family she did have always came through in a pinch. Then she glanced down at her hands. They had scrapes all over them. She swallowed thickly. “Why do you think the guy who attacked me today didn’t just shoot me?” she asked Luke. “Apparently shooting me wasn’t a problem for him last night.”

“I don’t know. My best guess would be that he was afraid of witnesses. It was broad daylight. In the center of town. The sound of gunshots would have drawn a lot of attention.”

The doorbell chimed and Melanie’s heart sank. It could be some kind soul coming by to check up on her. And with her emotions all over the place and her strength fading, she wasn’t sure how polite she could be.

Luke got to his feet. “You expecting anyone?”

“No,” Anna said, walking to the door. Luke followed behind her. She pulled aside the narrow gauze curtain covering the strip of glass beside the door and looked out. “It’s a police officer,” she said.

It was a patrol officer stopping by to deliver the message that the chief of police wanted to make certain Melanie understood the police department would be working with the sheriff’s department to find the person who’d attacked her. Since the first attack took place in county jurisdiction, the sheriff’s department was taking the lead in the investigation. “But then I guess you already knew all this,” the officer said, glancing at Luke. “Since Lieutenant Baxter is officially in charge of your case.”

No, Melanie hadn’t known that. She glanced at Luke and he gave her a slight nod. From what she’d seen so far, the lieutenant was capable and compassionate. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she felt a flutter of attraction and the whisper of some deeper emotion in the center of her chest. Was it possible he’d had himself put in charge of her case because he felt something like that, too?

The officer didn’t stay long. As soon as he left, Anna ran upstairs to Melanie’s office to look for her beige lockbox. She came back a few minutes later, carrying it. There was a big dent in it, and as soon as Melanie saw it, she remembered dropping it in the parking lot behind The Mercantile.

“That’s right. It got dented and I remember buying the new blue one,” Melanie said to Luke, thrilled at the inkling of memory. “But I planned to use it the same way I did the old one. I didn’t keep drugs or secret government files or anything else you might be imagining in there. Just money. Not even very much, really. And a little jewelry.” Yet someone tried to take her life over that. It was hard to fathom.

Luke nodded and got to his feet.

He glanced around. “I don’t see any signs of a security system for the house,” he said. “I’d strongly suggest you invest in one. The police will patrol by here as often as they can,” he added. “Make sure you keep your doors and windows locked.”

A look of panic flashed across Anna’s face. “Let me check the back doors,” she said, heading for the kitchen.

Melanie stood up and walked with Luke to the front door.

“Tell me something,” she said, her words stopping him before he opened the door. “Both attacks must be related. Why do you think the guy came after me a second time?”

He hesitated, obviously thinking over his answer before he spoke. “Well, since he shot at you, it could be argued that the initial attack was attempted murder and not simply a robbery. And that could mean a pretty lengthy prison sentence. He’d have no way of knowing you were having trouble with your memory and couldn’t identify him. So maybe he came after you because he was afraid you’d identify him and send him to prison.”

“But that seems irrational. Even if I could recognize his face, what are the odds I’d ever see the guy again?”

“Apparently he thought the odds were pretty good,” Luke said. “Which makes me think he is someone you know.”

Luke stepped outside. Melanie closed and locked the door behind him. All the while a chill passed through her. Was it really possible someone she’d known had attacked her twice?

* * *

“Uncle Luke, come out here! Billy Clyde is in the mud again!”

Luke stood inside the stables at his family’s ranch. At the sound of his five-year-old niece Kayla’s voice, he turned toward the big open door to look at her standing in the sunlight. “Come on!” She waved impatiently at him.

Luke finished drying his hands on a tattered red shop towel and walked outside. His niece was already running ahead of him. She stopped and called out “Billy Clyde!” while slapping her thigh.

Billy Clyde, a scruffy brown-and-black dog of uncertain breed, was happily rolling in something on the ground in the corral. A couple of horses had been in that corral until an hour ago. Luke was fairly certain it wasn’t mud the dog was rolling in. And he was doing it right after they’d given Billy Clyde a bath.

“Billy Clyde!” Jake Baxter, Luke’s younger brother, walked from the ranch house, down the slight hill, and hollered to his dog. “Billy Clyde, come here!”

The dog paused, looked at him, then went right back to rolling around.

“I think that dog’s going deaf,” Jake said when he got up alongside Luke.

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Luke said as both men watched Kayla and her seven-year-old brother, Alan, race over to the dog. At their approach, Billy Clyde jumped up and started barking and playfully running away from them. “That dog’s getting up in years and he’s going to do what he wants to do,” Luke added.

“He’s always done what he wanted to do,” Jake muttered. “When he first showed up, he was skin and bones. Limping. Patches of his fur missing. Janelle felt sorry for him and spoiled him rotten. That is the true source of the problem with Billy Clyde.”

Luke glanced over at Jake, relieved to see that his brother could mention his late wife’s name without choking up. Jake and Janelle had married right out of high school. They had settled here, at the family ranch, while Luke joined the army and took off to see the world. Luke had come back to visit when he could. And, of course, when their father had died. Their mother had passed away when they were both young.

Luke had been energized by the adrenaline rush of serving in the military. Couldn’t imagine ever coming back and settling for a quiet ranch life, just a few miles outside of Bowen.

But then his sister-in-law had started to get sick. The end had come so swiftly for her that Luke was truly at a loss for words when he got the news while on an army base in Afghanistan. Even for a man who had faced the horrors of combat daily, when the phone call came, telling him that his upbeat, fun-loving sister-in-law was gone, he’d had a hard time believing it.

And his little brother had been a wreck. Not only had Jake faced the horror of losing his wife, but he knew from experience the feeling of emptiness left behind when children lose their mother at an early age. And worry for those kids started eating him up.

Eventually Jake pulled himself together. Kept putting one foot in front of the other, because he was tough. Always had been. He didn’t complain, but Luke had heard the heaviness in his brother’s voice when he talked to him. And he knew what he had to do.

Luke had been near the end of his tour of duty when Janelle had passed away. He hadn’t reenlisted yet, though up to that point he’d had every intention of doing so. Instead he finished his tour and came on home and moved to the ranch to help his brother. Not so much with managing the ranch. Jake had a handle on that. But with raising the kids. With getting on with life.

That had been two years ago. Being a Miles County deputy sheriff was a long way from the intense challenges Luke was used to facing on a daily basis. But once the kids were a little older, and he was convinced Jake was emotionally settled, Luke would get back to traveling the world. Seeing new things. Facing new challenges. Maybe he’d reenlist in the military. Or see what was available in the world of private security.

His thoughts drifted to Melanie Graham. He’d responded to assaults and strong-arm robberies before, but her case was certainly unique. One of the most interesting cases he’d worked in a while.

It was because of the amnesia angle, and the second attack taking place so soon after the first, that he’d made sure the sheriff’s department pushed to be the lead agency on the case. And he’d made certain he was put in charge of the investigation.

He found himself recalling Melanie Graham’s face. The fear and confusion in her eyes. He’d seen that so many times in combat. He couldn’t stand by and let somebody go through that without helping them. And okay, maybe he was a little motivated to help Melanie specifically. In just the small amount of time he’d spent around her, he’d been drawn in by the appeal of her strength and determination to work through the aftermath of the attack on her rather than remaining paralyzed by fear. Her warm hazel eyes and defiant smile, at moments when he knew she was afraid, had their appeal, as well. The woman was a fighter.

Luke wrenched himself back to the present and glanced around. Billy Clyde had let the kids catch him and they were rolling around in the thick grass outside the corral together.

“Little brother,” Luke said, turning and clapping Jake on the shoulder. “You are going to have to give both of your kids a bath tonight.”

“Tonight and every night,” Jake said agreeably. “Sometimes in the middle of the day, too.”

“I’ll give Billy Clyde another bath. Unless you want to make him stay outside tonight.”

Jake laughed and shook his head. “I can’t make that animal stay outside and he knows it.” Then, just like a cloud passing over the sun on a clear day, his expression completely changed. He cleared his throat a couple of times. “Janelle insisted we keep him after he showed up that day, and he was always really her dog. Maybe that’s why he’s always acting up. Maybe he misses her, too.”

Jake’s voice broke and he dragged his knuckles across his eyes, wiping away the tears that had slipped out.

Luke stood by him. As usual he was clueless about what he should say. But he knew there was power in having someone present when you were hurting. Even if they didn’t say a word.

By the time the smelly dog and the kids ran over to them, Jake had composed himself. “I’m starving,” Alan announced.

“Yeah, well, the way you two smell, it’s going to be baths first and then supper,” Jake answered.

The three of them turned and started up the hill to the house.

Luke headed back to the stables with the dog at his heels so he could fill the big tub in there with soapy water and re-bathe Billy Clyde.

* * *

“I still can’t remember what happened to me at the fairgrounds,” Melanie said to Luke, with exasperation burning in her chest like indigestion. “How do you expect me to identify the attacker in these pictures?”

Two days had passed since she’d been grabbed in the alley beside the coffee shop. Three days since someone had tried to kill her at the fairgrounds.

Physically and emotionally she’d taken a slight turn for the worse, once she was settled in her room at her cousin’s house, after the second attack.

Every time she let down her defenses, told herself to relax and tried to get some sleep, that panicky feeling would come back with a vengeance. Her neck hurt even more, as did the scrapes and bruises on the places where she’d hit the ground. She was afraid to take the sleeping pills and painkillers the doctor had prescribed for her. Because what if the attacker came back again? Tried to break into the house?

She was doing a little better now. Well enough to drive herself to the sheriff’s department’s office in town and meet with Luke to look at mug shots. Anna had offered to take her to the meeting, but she’d already missed enough work looking after Melanie. And it was a short drive. Melanie could handle it. Like so many things these days, she had to handle it.

When Melanie’s husband had filed for divorce, she’d needed somewhere to go. Anna had welcomed her with open arms. The rent money Melanie paid was appreciated. Anna made that abundantly clear. But Anna still needed to show up at the accounting firm where she’d recently gotten a job. And thanks to Melanie, she’d already missed two days of work.

Luke took a sip of coffee and set the mug on the conference table, where they were seated. There was an electronic tablet in front of him and he slid it over toward her. “These are pictures of men from this part of Idaho, as well as a few from Northern Wyoming who have a history of violent, strong-arm robbery, specifically targeting women.” The screen showed four images. She could swipe her finger across the screen to see more.

“Do me a favor and just take a look,” he continued. “See if anyone seems familiar. It’s possible you crossed paths with the attacker more than two weeks ago and that you’d remember him if you saw his picture. Maybe he worked alongside you at a rodeo or a fair or somewhere else where you were selling your jewelry over the last few months.”

That was possible. She’d been busy over the summer, traveling to as many events as she could.

“Or maybe he’s someone who’s seen you working at The Mercantile,” he added.

The Mercantile was a former general store in Bowen that had been renovated and turned into a crafts-and-antiques mini mall. Melanie rented space in the communal area, at the center of the store.

“Maybe someone got the idea to rob you after seeing you put money into that blue lockbox that’s missing. Or maybe they saw you put those few pieces of gold jewelry you’ve said you made into the box. Or perhaps something else,” he added, with his eyebrows slightly raised and a questioning expression on his face.

She didn’t like his tone when he said the words “something else,” and she turned to frown at him. Maybe she shouldn’t care so much that he was questioning her character, but she did. Probably because she’d felt a connection, like friendship, forming between them. And that made his comment strike deeper than it would have if it had come from somebody else. “If you think I had drugs or something stolen or illegal in that box, you’re mistaken,” she said icily. “I may not remember that box or specifically what’s in it at the moment, but I do know who I am.”

He held her gaze for several seconds and then finally nodded, though she didn’t think he looked convinced.

She knew he was a cop. People probably lied to him all of the time. He saw the worst of society. But that didn’t lessen the sting of his suspicion.

She picked up the tablet. Swiped her finger across the screen to turn the pages. It took a while, but she finally got to the end. No one looked familiar.

She glanced up at him, shook her head and found herself blinking back tears. It had been irrational for her to get her hopes up. To think she might somehow recognize the perpetrator in these pictures and bring this nightmare to an end.

Haven’t I been through enough? She thought of her husband’s betrayal and insistence on ending their six-year marriage. And the financial bottoming-out that followed the divorce. Now there were these attacks. It was too much.

She immediately felt ashamed of herself for giving in to self-pity. People suffered through a lot worse. Whatever is good and noble, think on those things. Clearly that was what she needed to be doing.

“Looking at mug shots is not our only strategy in this investigation,” Luke said. “It’s just one idea.”

Melanie nodded. “I’m willing to help any way I can.”

Luke reached for the tablet and she slid it toward him. “So, how are you doing?” he asked. Melanie started to fib, telling him she was fine. But then she thought about the promise she’d made to herself after being blindsided by her husband. Ex-husband. There was a lot Ben had kept secret. Including his relationship with the woman he’d begun seeing while he was still married to Melanie.

She should have seen it coming, she’d told herself. But how could she? In so many ways, she and Ben had barely known each other. They’d gotten married straight out of high school, moved to California, found jobs and started living their lives together.

Yet in so many important ways, they’d always been strangers. She just hadn’t realized it until the divorce papers were sitting on her dining room table, ready for her signature.

She couldn’t control other people—she accepted that—but she could control herself. She could keep the promise she’d made to herself to be open and forthcoming. And it was reasonable to expect the same thing from anyone she had a relationship with.

Not that she had a relationship with Lieutenant Baxter. Maybe the feelings she’d thought they were beginning to share were all on her part. Maybe she was reading something into the situation between them that wasn’t there, because she was afraid and feeling alone. In any event, being transparent was a standard she was setting for herself. So she would tell him the truth.

“My head and neck, and everywhere else I’ve been injured, have hurt for the last couple of days, but it’s better now,” she finally blurted out in answer to his question. “I’m still jumpy, though. I can’t relax. And I’m scared.”

And then, even though it made her horribly uncomfortable, she looked him in the eyes and waited for his reaction.

“I’m not surprised,” he said. “You’ve been through two traumatic experiences in less than twenty-four hours.” He glanced down at his phone screen and she thought that was the end of it.

But then he turned back to her, and looking slightly uncomfortable, he said, “My experience is that it takes a lot longer to work through the aftermath of a violent attack than you’d think. But if you hang on, and ask for help if you need it, you’ll be okay.”

“Right.” He hadn’t given her any advice that would make her problems disappear in an instant like she wanted them to. But the empathy he was expressing felt sincere. And the honest assessment that it would take a while for things to heal was probably something she’d needed to hear to make her expectations more realistic.

“Do you want me to help you get your truck and trailer to the house this afternoon?” he asked.

“I think the trip here is all I can handle today.” There was no reason for her to feel physically exhausted, yet she did. And that panicky feeling was starting to come back. Not as severely as it had felt before, but still it was there. She needed to get home before it got worse.

“Can we get them tomorrow?” she asked.

“Of course.”

They both stood at the same time. Her knees were shaky and she reached her hand out to the conference table to steady herself. Luke reached out and held on to her lower arm, keeping her from toppling over. His big, calm presence made her feel stronger. His touch sent a zing through her that she wished she could ignore.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, and he released her arm.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” he said. “I need to get out of the building and do some patrolling, anyway.”

She’d come in the small sedan she kept for driving around town. Her truck was a gas-guzzler. Once she was inside the car, with the doors locked, she waved at Luke and he walked over to his truck.

Anxious to get back to the house where she hoped to rest and relax, Melanie started up the engine and then pulled out of the parking lot, onto the street.

In the rearview mirror she could see that Luke followed her all the way home. It felt reassuring to know he was there. And comforting to know that a man like Luke was looking out for her.