Читать книгу Fatal Flashback - Kellie VanHorn - Страница 16

Ashley’s head clouded over again as she waited for Logan to finish talking to the chief ranger. She wanted to get into bed, sleep for the next fifty years and wake up when everything was back to normal. Whatever “normal” was.

Ms. Watson, the superintendent had called her. It matched her driver’s license, but not that vague impression she’d had earlier that her last name was Thompson. Was she keeping her real last name a secret for some reason?

But how on earth did she get a job here as a ranger without her real name? And why would she even want to work here in the first place? She couldn’t remember any details about her old job, or life for that matter, but she was pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with roughing it out in the desert.

She rubbed absently at one of her arms, realizing her sleeve was still full of sand. Her clothes were dry now, but her hair was a tangled mess and nothing sounded better than a hot shower and a bed.

Logan glanced at her from across the room, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. Finally the chief ranger clapped him on the shoulder and the flicker of emotion was replaced by a smile as he approached.

“I guess I should call you Ranger Watson now.”

“Apparently so.” She ignored the way her stomach curdled. The whole thing felt like a lie and she hated hiding the truth, whatever the truth was. Especially when she had no idea why. But the superintendent had asked to talk to her when she was ready to return to duty. Maybe he had some answers. “It’s okay if you want to keep calling me Ashley instead.”

He smiled. “Ashley, it is. And please call me Logan. Only people who don’t like me use my last name.”

“I doubt there’s anyone who doesn’t like you.” She would have to add warm, considerate and easygoing to her mental description of him.

“You might be surprised.” He held out his hand to help her up. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second but, deciding it would be better not to embarrass him, took his hand. The sudden warmth of his skin on hers sent an electric jolt through her stomach and she swayed ever so slightly.

“Steady?” He still held her hand.

Her cheeks burned. “Yes.” She pulled away the second he let go.

“Sure you don’t want to take my arm?”

She swallowed. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” She had to be fine, because she wasn’t going to let herself keep clinging to him, not when he affected her so unreasonably.

Logan opened the door and she followed him out into the dark, starlit night. They walked around to the back of the building and along a path toward a cluster of homes.

“It’s all government housing,” Logan said. “I’m sure you’ve heard all this before, but residence in the park is mandatory for rangers. Apparently you already checked in at Panther Junction earlier today and you were given a housing assignment.”

Something Ashley had no recollection of... Yet another memory lost in the black swirl of her mind. To fend off the panic, she asked, “Do all the rangers live here?”

“No. There are residences at Castolon and Rio Grande Village, too, down by the river.”

She followed him into a section of single homes at the west end of the complex. The Chisos Mountains loomed like jagged black teeth over the rooftops. Warm light issued from a few of the houses they passed, but the rest of the street was dark. “Aren’t there any streetlights?”

“No. The park is trying to eliminate light pollution, and this street is being renovated.” He waved at the dark houses beyond hers. “Those are mostly empty—that’s why they’re so dark.”

“Sounds cozy.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get neighbors soon enough.”

She fished the key ring out of her pocket, happy to find she had a key that turned in the lock. Finding the light switch inside the door, she flipped it and stepped over the threshold. Nothing looked familiar, but at least the collection of luggage was promising. Maybe she’d find some clues as to why she was there.

“Recognize anything?” Logan leaned against the inside of the door frame, arms folded casually across his chest, watching her with those pensive green eyes.

She shook her head.

“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled. You should have some groceries in the fridge, compliments of Sandy, the receptionist. Sure you don’t need anything else right now?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll be back to check on you in an hour. Doctor’s orders.”

She grimaced. “Guess sleep isn’t on the schedule for tonight.”

“Not with a head injury.” His lips curved into a crooked smile.

He turned to leave, but Ashley called after him. “Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Her toes curled in embarrassment. Apparently being rescued wasn’t a typical experience. “For helping me tonight.”

He grinned. The light from the front porch danced in his eyes. “It was my pleasure.”

Logan walked down the dark street toward his own home, trying to quell the smile that kept popping onto his face.

Business. This was all about business. Part of his job was helping anyone in distress, and just because that someone was living in Panther Junction, and he had to train her, was no reason to keep thinking about her. Beyond having to check on her every hour, of course—doctor’s orders.

In fact, their work relationship was an excellent reason not to think about her, whatever Ed Chambers might say to the contrary. Seven years out here had taught him a number of painful lessons and one of them was never to fall for a fellow ranger. Because sooner or later they all left when they got the chance.

He could almost hear Erin’s voice ringing in his head, as if she were still standing there arguing with him, even after all these years. She had been so beautiful, with her blond hair and green eyes a few shades lighter than his own. A perfect match, his family had said.

But she had hated living in Big Bend. Eight hundred thousand acres of desert, mountains and river—some of the most beautiful, remote country in the lower 48—and she had hated it. The place he never wanted to leave, because it had gotten into his blood, into his very soul.

He’d been ready to propose, sure that Erin was the one and convinced she would stay here for his sake—no, for their sake, at least until they could talk about asking for a reassignment. But love wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

She had left, without ever looking back.

That was five years ago and no woman had caught his attention since. Probably a self-defense mechanism. Apparently it had decided to fail today. That was both unfortunate and unacceptable, because something about Ashley—maybe it was the suit, or her pale skin, or the fact she had no idea why she was here—screamed, I don’t belong in the desert.

Keeping her alive until she could be reassigned was going to be enough trouble. He didn’t need to add personal feelings. And the last thing he wanted, after the long years waiting for God to heal his broken heart after Erin, was to risk anything like it again. No, the newest ranger would be his trainee and his colleague, and nothing more.

He returned dutifully to her house an hour later, glad to find her condition appeared stable. Pupils weren’t abnormally dilated, responses all coherent. Four repeat visits over the course of the night showed similar promise of no regression. She greeted him with a groggy smile each time before stumbling back to the sofa where she’d decided to crash for the night. By 7:00 a.m. he advised her to go to sleep in her bed. He’d come back and check on her later in the day, after getting some work done in the office.

He nearly collided with someone on his way into headquarters. Will Sykes, one of the newer rangers, who had started just prior to Sam Thompson. “Will, a little distracted this morning?”

“What?” The dark-haired younger man glanced up, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. He was probably heading out to one of the campgrounds on patrol. “Oh, sorry. I guess so.”

Logan moved aside to let him out the door, but Will stopped, lowering his voice enough that Sandy Barnes at her receptionist desk wouldn’t overhear. “Hey, I heard you pulled somebody out of the Rio Grande last night. What happened?”

Word certainly got around fast in this park. “Actually, I found her on the riverbank. We’re not sure how it happened.”

“Good thing you showed up.” His Adam’s apple bobbed and he tapped his thumb against his clipboard. “Was she all right?”

“Bit of memory loss, but she’ll be okay. You’ll meet her soon—turns out she’s the newest ranger.” Logan glanced at his watch. Only fifteen minutes until his first meeting of the day. “Listen, Sykes, I—”

The clipboard clattered to the ground and Will stooped to retrieve it.

“—need to get going.”

“Of course.” Will’s face had gone uncharacteristically pale.

Must be thinking about Sam, too. They’d been friends and Sam’s death had affected Will almost as much as Logan. Ashley was their first new law-enforcement ranger since the accident. It wasn’t a surprise Will would be shaken up.

Logan squeezed the younger man’s shoulder, trying to mimic Ed’s natural gift of encouragement. “Nobody can replace him, but it’ll be good to have someone new on the team.”

“Yeah.” Will left through the front door, waving on his way out.

A file for Ashley Watson lay on Logan’s desk, as Ed had promised. It didn’t contain anything exceptional. Twenty-seven years old, hometown of New Haven, Connecticut—that might explain why picturing her in the desert seemed like such a stretch. She had passed NPS training school with flying colors. Before going into law enforcement, she had worked for the Department of the Interior in Washington, DC—a desk job—but maybe those connections had got her the position out here.

Nothing to explain why she’d been down at the canyon yesterday, in a suit, with a gun. A gun she handled so well it looked like years of instinct, he might add—not just six months of park service training.

No word had come back on the truck, either. Whoever had attacked them had managed to vanish into the desert. Barclay had looked concerned but could only tell him to file a report. What else could they do? Nobody could explain how the newest ranger had become a target in a park where violent attacks by anything other than mountain lions were almost unheard of.

Maybe Logan would have to make his afternoon visit to her a bit longer, see if he could ask any questions that might jog her memory. Purely for the sake of investigation, of course.

By the time Ashley woke up, the sun was shooting fiery streaks onto her covers as it seared in through the cracks in the blinds. Thank You, God, for air-conditioning. Wait—she wasn’t speaking to God.

Why was that, exactly? The only answer was that same feeling of oppressive loss she’d experienced last night. But her head didn’t hurt and—

She sat up, her mind racing. She remembered.

Her parents—Ned and Rita. Her brother’s name was Sam. Fumbling for her wallet, she dug out the picture again. Warmth flooded her chest as the memories filled her mind.

Sam and her at a theme park as kids—he’d been nearly two heads shorter than Ashley back then... Snowball fights—they’d grown up in Connecticut. Sandcastles at the beach... Sibling squabbles...

She grinned. Such good times.

But her heart twinged as she looked at his picture. Something had happened. But what? Sam was still in school, wasn’t he? Or maybe he’d graduated before she’d moved to Washington.

When she’d gotten her dream job.

Ah, the irony of it all. She clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly giggling.

The call had come in the middle of dinner with her parents.

Congratulations, you’ve passed the background check. Your basic field training course starts in three weeks. Welcome to Quantico.

That was why she had the gun. She was an FBI special agent.

And she’d managed to finagle an assignment to the coveted Washington field office. Years of work and effort finally paying off.

Yet none of it explained why she was here. And did the fake name mean it was an undercover assignment? Had she ever even gone undercover before?

Maybe her luggage held more clues.

She found a pair of yoga pants and a cotton T-shirt in one of her bags. After dressing, she pulled her long hair into a loose ponytail. She’d been so exhausted last night, what with all the wake-up calls, that she’d stumbled through a quick shower and fallen asleep on the couch without much thought. But now, looking in the mirror, she traced the lines of her face in the glass.

It was the face she had seen for a lifetime, familiar and yet not. Older. Because Ashley knew there was still a gaping blank spot—more like a chasm—behind that face. Places in her mind where the memories were gone, or maybe squished by swelling. Everything past the age of about twenty-six was blurry, faded into nothingness as she tried to recall anything more recent. But going by her birth date on the driver’s license, she was twenty-seven.

That meant more than a year of her life was incomplete or missing.

After returning her wallet to the handbag, she walked out to the living room to dig through the luggage. The suitcase was full of clothing and toiletries—each item new, yet familiar, like muscle memory recalled the feel of each thing but her eyes were seeing them for the first time.

The other bag, a small satchel, was far more interesting. It held a laptop, a cell phone and an item that at first glance appeared to be a man’s leather wallet. Upon flipping it open, it turned out to be her badge.

Special Agent Ashley Thompson, Federal Bureau of Investigation.

That was what she had tried to pull out of her pocket to show Logan yesterday as her proof for the gun.

But she had left the badge in her luggage.

Only one reason an agent wouldn’t carry her badge. She must be working undercover. As a park ranger? Why here, in Big Bend?

Did any of them know she was an agent? Not Logan, obviously.

The laptop might tell her...

After three failed attempts at the password, the computer locked her out for the next hour. So much for that idea.

Plugging in the cell phone to recharge, she rummaged in the kitchen for anything edible. She found an apple and a bagel. Making a mental note to thank the receptionist, she scrolled through the contacts in the phone. Her finger hovered over her mom’s cell phone number. One push and Ashley would hear a familiar voice.

No. She closed the contacts file. Calling anyone would be a great way to blow her cover. Plus, she had no reception out here anyway.

Instead she opened the phone’s gallery. She scrolled through one image after another, watching a blur of faces fly past until one caught her eye. Sam, standing beside her, his arm slung around her shoulders.

The picture was time-stamped from last fall—just over a year ago. His wide grin made her want to smile but... Ashley furrowed her brows. Why did seeing him make her stomach twist?

She set the phone down and carried the cold, uneaten bagel to the kitchen before tackling the large suitcase. No point in dwelling on what she couldn’t remember. Better to focus on what she did know—that she was a federal agent and she was in west Texas for a reason.

A reason that might have something to do with what had happened to her last night.

Wheeling the suitcase into her bedroom, Ashley slowly unpacked all the neatly folded clothing. Beneath the clothes, shoes and toiletries, she found a layer of books. A Bible, a couple of novels and a guide to desert animals and vegetation.

She thumbed through each one, placing them, in turn, on top of the dresser. When she got to the guidebook, as she flipped through pages of snakes and spiders and scorpions, a piece of paper fluttered out onto the floor.

She picked it up, noting the darkened, worn edges—as if someone had held it with dirty hands—and opened it carefully to reveal a full page of hand-drawn markings and tiny words.

A map. It was a map! A long, twisting river ran along the lower section with labeled towns on both sides. Strings of upside-down V’s looked like mountain ranges and they were labeled, too. She almost needed a magnifying glass to read the letters. Or a lamp might help. She glanced up, suddenly noticing how dark it was—she’d been so absorbed with unpacking she hadn’t looked at a clock in hours.

It must be getting late. Logan would be here soon to check on her.

She took the map into the living room, pausing to feel for a light switch, but in the momentary silence she heard a sound that made her blood run cold. A low scraping noise coming from the bedroom window, like someone was running a chisel between the casement and the wood frame. And it was far too rhythmic to be an animal or the wind.

Someone was trying to break into her house.