CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“RUSSELL, WHAT IS all this?” Sarah asked as she looked at the stack of papers he placed on the kitchen table. He’d made them dinner, and they hadn’t talked about the damn tattoo, something she was glad of.
“I’ve been doing some research. I mentioned it before, but I thought you’d like to check it out yourself.”
So that’s what he’d been doing when he wasn’t visiting her. She picked up the top article. Last time he’d brought up the subject, it had scared her. It scared her even more now that he wasn’t letting it drop.
“Brain wiping,” she said and sighed. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but the neurologist—”
“I know, he said there are all kinds of reasons for your amnesia.” She hadn’t told him that the neurologist had suggested her memory loss was psychological. She hadn’t wanted to admit that even to herself.
“He also said it might be permanent. I may never get my memory back.” She could tell that Russell didn’t want to believe that any more than Buck did. Russell had asked her about what she was remembering, though, making it clear that he was aware some memories seemed to be coming back.
She’d told him they were just flashes. True enough. But she feared they were memories and that one day they would all come flooding back. It terrified her given the strange, distorted images she’d seen.
“I should have told you but I’ve been searching for articles on brain wiping from back more than twenty-two years ago. I knew someone had to be doing research then. I figured once I found the scientist, all I had to do was locate a facility that would have been easy for him to get you to without calling attention to either you or himself. Remember, everyone believed you were dead. So it had to be one he could drive you to and get back from before he was missed.”
She was amazed at the lengths he would go to to prove this theory. Russell really believed Buck had her locked up all those years ago after her botched suicide attempt.
“I found an article published in a medical journal twenty-three years ago—a year before you disappeared.”
Sarah stared at him. Even when he’d shared his theory, she hadn’t considered it was a real possibility. “What are you saying?”
“A doctor by the name Ralph Venable was doing brain wiping research long before anyone thought it possible.”
She’d read one of the articles Russell had given her on brain wiping. “But I thought the experiments have only been on rats!”
“So you did look at the other information I brought you.” He sounded pleased by that, and encouraged. “Yes, recent experiments have been done on rats. But Venable was sure it would work on humans. I know it all sounds like science fiction. Targeting certain parts of the brain where a memory is stored while leaving the rest entirely intact. If modern science was now able to do this, then why not a doctor ahead of his time twenty-two years ago?”
“Because it’s so...diabolical.”
“Diabolical if I’m right and your husband was the one who picked you up that night. If he had heard about this doctor, he would have known where to take you.”
“That’s a lot of ifs.”
“You’ve been looking for answers? Well, here’s one right under your nose.”
She rose from her chair to move around the kitchen. “So Buck somehow found out about this man’s research and took me to what? Some hospital?”
“I doubt it was a hospital. Probably more like a private clinic. You’d just tried to kill yourself. Taking you to a doctor made sense, right? If word should get out, well, he would look like a caring husband trying to protect you.”
Sarah hugged herself, chilled at the thought as she turned to look at him. “But Buck’s true reason was so this mad scientist could wipe out whatever horrible thing I knew about my husband that made me drive into the river.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t Buck bring me back home after my memory was erased?”
Russell shook his head. “Maybe he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t remember.”
“So instead, he kept me a prisoner for the next twenty-two years?”
“I’m not sure where he kept you.”
“And the good doctor?”
“I’m still trying to track him down. But I suspect you saw him again—right before I found you coming out of the woods a few months ago.”
“Saw him again? You mean Buck had him wipe out the past twenty-two years so I thought I’d just given birth to the twins. You do know how crazy this all sounds, don’t you?” He was making her head ache with this off-the-wall theory.
She’d told Buck she would meet him in thirty minutes. She had to get going and yet... “You say this doctor was years ahead of his time in this type of research? Why take a chance experimenting on humans when I would assume if he were caught he’d lose his license to practice medicine, maybe even be imprisoned?”
“The story was that Venable’s wife was brutally raped by some drunken soldiers on leave. The men were never caught. Apparently, his life’s work was to make her horrible memories go away.”
She had to ask. “Did he succeed?”
Russell sighed and shook his head. “She killed herself.”
“So his brain wiping failed.”
“Not necessarily. According to what I’ve read, emotional memories are very powerful and can have strong physiological effects on a person—so much so that they can’t be entirely wiped away. Which could explain the flashes of memory you’re having.”
The thought sent a chill through her. Was it possible the man she’d married was capable of the things Russell suggested?
“If scientists are now able to wipe out some memories without affecting other memories,” Russell continued, “why isn’t it possible Venable could do it twenty-two years ago?”
“But you weren’t able to find a facility where he’d worked near here?”
Russell shook his head.
“And he wasn’t able to save his own wife.”
“No. But if I’m right, Venable succeeded beyond his wildest dreams with at least one patient.”
She met his gaze. “Me.”
* * *
RAY FROZE AT the sound of a twig snapping some distance away. He’d already crossed paths with one grizzly on his way back into the mountains. Fortunately it hadn’t been a mama grizzly with a couple of cubs. He’d heard too many stories about hunters getting mauled to death.
But tonight this was no bear out there, he thought as he listened from the dark shadows under the pines. Nor was it his father. So who had stumbled onto their camp?
The full moon was so bright that it looked like daylight out of the darkness of the pines. Ray glanced toward his pack by the still smoking fire. With a curse, he realized two mistakes he’d made. The fire. He should never have built it after seeing the plane earlier. Of course the pilot wasn’t the only person looking for Bo-Peep. Worse, he’d been so busy putting out the fire and taking care of the woman that he’d left both his rifle and his handgun inside the open pack in the middle of camp. But to get to the weapons, he would have to cross a dozen yards of moonlit ground.
He listened, heard nothing. Maybe that’s all it had been, nothing. Maybe he was just jumpy because his old man would be here by daybreak. Ray had spent his life being afraid of his father—and at the same time knowing the old man was all he had.
All his instincts told him to stay where he was. Whatever was out there was dangerous, and it was coming for him.
* * *
THE SMELL OF SMOKE was so strong, Jace knew the camp was just on the other side of a thick stand of trees. He slowed. He didn’t dare go stumbling into camp, and it would have been easy in the dark of the pines.
He’d purposely stayed in the deep shadow of the trees as he’d moved. The moon was bright as day, almost blinding when he stepped out into it. He could be spotted too easily in its light spearing down through the pine branches—and get himself shot. After following Bo’s tracks and the man’s, he had a bad feeling about what he was going to find now that he’d caught up with them.
Ahead, he saw a break in the stand of pines and moved toward it. He tried to be careful where he stepped. It was hard enough to be quiet in the forest in broad daylight, let alone in the darkness of the pines. He’d already stepped on a twig. The snap as it broke had sounded like a cannon going off to him. Had they heard it in camp? He had to assume so.
He’d reach the edge of the dense stand of pines when through the narrow opening, he saw the source of the smoke. A small, dying campfire billowed the smell of wet coals into the night sky. The fire had only recently been doused with water. That meant they had heard him coming.
Probably also the reason there was no one near the fire. Had they left? Or were they only lying in wait?
A horse whinnied some distance away. He heard the scuffle of boots in the dried needles of the pines and then nothing.
He had to get closer. This was Bo’s camp, he was sure of it. And that horse he’d just heard would be hers if he was right.
So where were they?
Cautiously and as quietly as he could, he worked his way through the pine trees closer to the camp. He hadn’t gone far when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He swung his rifle but came up short, thinking he must be seeing things.
Bo Hamilton was bound with rope to a tree.
What the hell?
He could hear her muffled pleas from behind her duct-taped mouth but couldn’t make out what she was saying. She seemed to be struggling to get the tape off her mouth by rubbing her face against the bark of the three.
Jace felt his heart drop. What had he stumbled into? He wanted to call out to her, but something told him the last thing he should do was let whoever had done that to her know where he was.
“Help!” Bo cried as she got most of the tape from her mouth. Her voice was still muffled and hoarse, but he got the message. “He’s in the trees. He has a knife!”
* * *
RAGE FILLED RAY. He’d had such high hopes for his future with his little Bo-Peep. It would have worked, too. If they could have reached a spot deep in the mountains, he would have built them a cabin. They would have been happy. He would have done anything to make her happy.
A bloodred film blurred his vision. He thought he might explode with fury as he clinched the knife harder in his hands until he thought he might crush the handle. He couldn’t let it end like this. If he could reach his pack, get his rifle, he’d kill whoever had come for her. He had no idea who was out there in the darkness. Or even how many of them there might be. He’d heard only one. But what if there were more? What if he moved and they gunned him down? He could feel death knocking at his door.
Don’t do nothing stupid. It was his father’s voice. Too late, Daddy. He’d already done something stupid. He’d taken the woman, and now he would rather die than give her up.
Don’t do it. Run! You don’t want to die tonight in the dirt up on this mountain. His own voice this time. Raging at the thought that all he could do was run away, he cursed under his breath. Bo was his.
He heard Bo call out again, pleading for help. She’d managed to get the tape off her mouth. For just a moment, he’d actually thought she was calling to him to help her until he heard her say “He has a knife.”
His heart had seemed to detonate in his chest, the pain worse than any beating he’d ever had—even his father’s beatings. Just like that, she’d turned against him. Every woman he’d ever known had turned against him. But none of their betrayals hurt as much as this one.
She thought she was saved by whoever had come looking for her? He wanted to laugh out loud. She was dead wrong. Nothing could save her from him. No matter how many of them had come for her.
Ray knew it was suicidal, but he shoved to his feet from behind the tree where he’d been hunkering and sprinted toward his pack. He told himself that if he could reach his gun and get off only one shot, he’d kill the bitch.
How had he thought she would ever be his willingly? He should have taken her the moment he’d pulled her off her horse. She’d played him for a fool, and now she was going to pay for her betrayal.
With a tortured cry, he sprinted toward the open pack next to the campfire. Even as he ran, he wished there was another way. He still wanted her, still hoped in some destroyed part of his heart that she could be his.
A bullet whizzed past his ear. He changed course, realizing there was only one way to end this now. With the knife gripped in his fist, he raced toward the woman, the blade raised. He saw her eyes widen as she realized what he was about to do. She didn’t know how lucky she was that this was the worst he could do.
* * *
JACE HAD HEARD what sounded like a war cry an instant before a huge man came charging out of the woods. Jace swung his rifle, taking aim, expecting the man to charge him. The moonlight caught the glint of the knife clutched in the man’s hand.
But to Jace’s surprise, the man had run toward his open pack next to the extinguished campfire.
“He’s going for his gun!” Bo yelled.
Jace took aim, pulled the trigger—and missed.
The man abruptly changed directions, this time heading for Bo, the knife raised in the air, a horrible sound coming from the man’s mouth.
With the jump of his pulse, Jace saw what the man intended to do and fought to steady the rifle. He couldn’t miss this time. If he did...
He pulled the trigger and heard the thwunk as the bullet hit the man’s body.
The man stumbled but didn’t go down. Jace fired again, but the man abruptly turned and quickly disappeared into the cover of the trees.
How badly had he wounded him? He had no way of knowing. He watched for movement in the darkness at the edge of the camp. Nothing. “Are you sure he doesn’t have another weapon?” he called to Bo.
“No, his gun and rifle are in his pack near the fire.” So that’s why he had run toward the pack. But then he’d changed course, his intentions all too clear.
He could hear Bo sobbing. He had to get to her. As he advanced, keeping to the shadows in the trees and away from the moonlight, he heard the sound of a horse whinny.
“Where’s your horse?” he called to Bo.
He heard her try to stop crying to answer. Her words came out barely intelligible. “Hidden in the trees.”
The man had gone for Bo’s horse.
Jace reached her. Leaning his rifle against the tree, he pulled his knife and quickly cut the rope, freeing her.
She sank to the ground, sobs racking her body.
He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, tell her she was going to be all right now, but as long as whoever had done this to her was out there...
“Who was that bastard?” he demanded as he picked up his rifle again, still watching the dark trees around them.
“Ray Spencer,” she said in a hoarse whisper between sobs. He’d heard the name, but it took him a moment to realize where. Then he remembered the fugitive who’d been on the run for the past three weeks after a convenience story robbery in which someone had been killed. He swore under his breath as Bo sobbed, “He...kidnapped...me.”
“Did you see where he tied up your horse?”
“No.” She looked around as if terrified the man would reappear. Jace shared that same concern.
“He’s alone?”
She nodded.
“What weapons does he have?”
“Just a knife.”
Jace glanced to the man’s pack near the fire ring. He could see the stock of an old rifle and the barrel of a handgun shining in the moonlight.
Quickly stepping away from the darkness of the tree, Jace dragged the pack over to Bo. “Can you stand?”
She nodded but couldn’t seem to stop the sobs. He helped her to her feet. “Can’t...believe...you found me.” As she held out her wrists for him to cut the tape binding them, she said, “I...thought...” She cried harder as if she’d given up on ever being rescued.
“Listen to me,” he said, taking hold of her shoulder and giving it a shake. “I need you to be quiet. I have to be able to hear him if he comes back.” When he comes back, Jace thought. The man had left everything behind, including the woman he’d abducted.
“He wouldn’t let me go.” She managed to stop crying, hugging herself but still looking terrified. She leaned against the trunk of a tree as if too weak to walk. He hated to leave her, but he had no choice.
He pulled the man’s pistol from the pack, checked to make sure it was loaded and handed it to her. “Tell me you know how to use this,” he said.
She nodded, wide-eyed, as she held it tightly, her whole body trembling.
He reached down to flip off the safety for her. “Just don’t shoot me. Stay right here.”
But as he started to step away, she grabbed his leg and cried, “Where are you going?”
“I just need to see how badly he was shot. I’ll be right back.”
Letting go of his leg, she clutched the gun in both of her hands. She looked even more terrified as he moved cautiously to the spot where he thought he’d hit the man. In the bright moonlight, he could see the blood on the ground. Not a lot, though.
He saw that the drops had left a trail. He followed it to a spot where he picked up horseshoe tracks. The man had taken off on Bo’s horse.
As Jace started back toward the camp, he looked to where he’d left Bo. She wasn’t there.
His heart did a quick drop before he spotted her. She stood yards away in the moonlight, turning in a circle, the gun in her shaking hands. She looked distraught and beyond petrified. He doubted she could hit the broad side of a barn in the condition she was in, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“It’s me,” he called, and she instantly slumped to the dirt.
He quickly stepped to her. “I have to go after him. He’s wounded but not badly. If I don’t—”
She grabbed hold of his leg and began to cry again. “You can’t leave me.”
“You have the gun—”
“He’ll kill you and then he’ll come back for me.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said more gently as he pulled her to her feet.
Bo looked up into his face as if until that moment she hadn’t recognized him. “Jace Calder? Of course it would be you.” Her reaction didn’t surprise him given the bad blood between them. She began to cry again.
“Bo—” But he could feel time slipping away. “I have to go after him. If I don’t go after him now—”
She took a step back, shaking her head, the gun clutched in both hands. Her words came out choked with fear. “You can’t leave me. If you leave me...” She started to slump to the ground.
He grabbed for her, his fingers closing on her wrist. She let out a cry. He’d hurt her. Jace mentally kicked himself as he took her in his arms. She leaned into him as if terrified of letting him go. He hadn’t had time to consider what she’d been through. Now, though, he took in the raw skin at her wrists and her neck. Those would heal. He feared her other injuries went much deeper than her bruised and scraped skin.
Looking toward the darkness of the trees, he cursed under his breath. If he left her and the man circled back around and got to her, he’d never forgive himself.
He knew what it took to kill a man. In her condition, he couldn’t trust that she could pull the trigger.
“All right,” he said, knowing that this, too, was a mistake they both could live to regret. “I won’t leave you alone, but we can’t stay here. We have to get moving. He has your horse. We have to get to my horse before he finds it.”
She nodded mutely as if all the fight had gone out of her. He had to let her go to pick up the man’s pack. No way was he leaving it so the man could get to the weapons. When he turned back, Bo stood like a small sapling rocking in the breeze. He could see how weak she was from her ordeal. He’d seen a can of beans in the doused fire. When was the last time she’d had something to eat? Lack of food was probably the least of it. He couldn’t bear to think what the man had done to her.
“Can you walk?”
Bo glanced toward the darkness. She nodded and started to hand back the gun.
“Keep that. You may have to use it.”
She looked up at him. He saw a tremor move through her. “If I have to use it...”
He nodded. He would already be dead.