Chapter Two
Kelly hadn’t been sure what Jameson’s reaction would be, but she’d known it wouldn’t be good. And it wasn’t.
The anger flared through those already-intense blue eyes.
Eyes that she wished she could remember.
There was something about him that tugged at her. Attraction, probably. He was a hot cowboy after all. But there seemed to be something else. Something that she wished would become clearer in her muddled mind. Clearer because the last thing she wanted to do was kill this man.
He was glaring at her now, but still she studied him. Hoping there was something about him that would trigger a memory. He was tall and lanky. Dark brown hair like his brother. The family resemblance was there as well, but it wasn’t a resemblance that caused her to recall anything other than what’d happened to her in the past half hour or so.
“Who wrote that message?” Jameson snarled. He snapped a picture of it with his phone and sent the photo to someone. Probably the sheriff. Then, taking the note just by the edge, he snatched it from her and put it on the seat next to him.
Kelly buttoned up her top. She definitely didn’t want to sit there with her bra exposed. “I don’t know who wrote it or how I got it.”
That was the truth. And it was something she figured she’d be saying a lot tonight. She prayed this memory loss was temporary. Prayed, too, that her injuries weren’t so serious that she couldn’t get the heck out of there ASAP. Other than the attraction she was feeling toward Jameson, she knew in her gut that it wasn’t safe to be here.
Plus, there was the “her” in the message.
It was obvious someone—a woman—was in danger.
“I think it could mean my sister,” she added. “That’s why I had you try to call her. Could you try again, please?”
He glared at her, hesitated, but he did fire off a text to someone. Kelly had no memories of Mandy, but if those dead men had taken her, their comrades could be holding her somewhere.
Waiting for Kelly to do what they’d demanded and kill Jameson.
“If you really have amnesia,” Jameson went on, still snarling, “how did you know that message was there?”
“I just knew.” It was an answer that obviously didn’t please him, because he cursed. “Why would someone want you dead?” she asked.
Jameson gave her another of those flat, scowled looks. “I’m a Texas Ranger, and I’ve put a lot of people in jail. One of them might not be happy about that.”
Yes, it could be that. But she had the feeling there was more to it. Jameson confirmed that several seconds later.
“My family has been getting threatening emails and letters.” His jaw clenched. “Threats connected to my parents, who were murdered ten years ago. The killer is in a maximum security prison, but someone has been sending out these sick messages to taunt us.” He tipped his head to the note. “Messages like that one.”
“Is there a her in any of those emails or letters?” she asked.
“No. But that doesn’t mean it’s not from the same person. Are you the one threatening us, Kelly?”
She tried to pick through the tornado in her head but couldn’t latch onto anything. Other than the pain. “I don’t think so. No,” she amended. She didn’t want to harm Jameson. Didn’t want to harm anyone. She just wanted to figure out what the heck was going on. “Was I connected to your parents’ murders, to their killer?”
Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Not to the murders but to August Canton. His brother is the one who was convicted of killing my folks. August somehow convinced you of his brother’s innocence, so you were looking for anything to help with the appeals. You stole from me to do that.”
Yes, she’d heard the conversation that he’d had with his brother about the stolen file. Again, no memory, and it didn’t seem like something she would have done. Especially steal from a man who’d likely been her lover.
Kelly repeated August Canton’s name, hoping it would trigger something. It didn’t. “I don’t remember him, either. Could any of this be linked to August or his brother?”
“Not Travis, because he’s in jail.” Then he paused. “But even if August or he managed to arrange something like this, I can’t imagine either of them going about it this way. You’re not a hired gun. Or at least you weren’t two years ago.”
And she wasn’t now. Kelly was certain of that. However, she didn’t get a chance to try to convince him because the ambulance pulled to a stop in front of the emergency room doors of the hospital. The EMTs used the gurney to take her inside.
There was a uniformed deputy waiting for them, and when they went in, Jameson immediately motioned toward the note that he’d left on the seat. “Bag that and show it to Gabriel. I’ll need her clothes bagged, too.”
Yes, because there might be some kind of evidence on them. She hoped so anyway. She needed answers.
“Who were those dead men in the pasture?” she asked. “Do you have ID’s on them?”
Jameson seemed annoyed with her question. Of course, he probably was annoyed—and highly concerned—about all of this. Because of the note that had ordered her to kill him.
“We’ll know more soon,” he finally answered. “Especially when you remember what you should be remembering.”
There it was again, the tone that indicated he didn’t believe her. She couldn’t blame him. There were two dead guys, a threatening note and an ex-lover who didn’t have a clue what was going on.
The medics transferred her to an examining table in a room just off the ER, and Kelly immediately looked around to make sure someone wasn’t there, ready to come after her. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, and she prayed if there was another attack, she could protect herself.
Jameson didn’t immediately come into the room with her, but he stayed in the doorway while he made a call. However, he didn’t take his attention off her. Too bad. Because Kelly thought it might be a good idea for her to put some distance between Jameson and her.
While he was still on the phone, a nurse came in, took her vitals and made a quick check of her head wound. It was throbbing, but that was the least of her problems right now. Apparently the least of Jameson’s, too, because whatever he was hearing on the phone caused his forehead to bunch up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment he ended the call.
The nurse mumbled something about the doctor seeing her soon and walked out, leaving them alone.
“Your sister’s still not answering her phone, so I’m having the San Antonio cops go out and check on her,” Jameson said.
“Good. Thank you.” But that wasn’t an explanation for the renewed tension in his face. “What else?”
“You have gunshot residue on your hands, and one of the guns you had matches the wounds on the dead guys. It’s looking as if you’re the one who killed them.”
Kelly felt the tears again. Felt the icy slam of fear in her chest. “I don’t think I had a choice. I think they were trying to kill me.”
Jameson blew out a long breath. It sounded bad. Was bad, she mentally corrected. She’d been sent to kill him. Maybe those men had been sent to kill her. And whoever had orchestrated it was maybe still out there. Maybe that someone was also the reason her sister wasn’t able to answer her phone.
Kelly tried to focus, tried to make sense of the whirl of memories that were in her throbbing head. But when she wasn’t able to sort through it, she decided it was time to get as much info from Jameson as he would give her. Maybe then she could use that to piece together this puzzle.
“We were lovers?” she asked.
“No. Yes,” he amended after he cursed. “We had sex, but it was all a ploy on your part to steal that file.”
That. They kept going back to that file. “Why would I help someone like August Canton?”
“You tell me. In fact, I wanted to ask you that question about two years ago, but you disappeared.”
Maybe Mandy would be able to help with that. She likely would have told her sister why she had disappeared. Well, maybe. If her sister and she had been close—since they’d owned a PI business together, maybe that meant they had been.
“Other than the Canton case, any idea what else I was working on around that same time?” she asked.
Kelly hadn’t figured that Jameson would actually know. Especially if she had gotten involved with him because of the Cantons, and that’s why she was surprised when he readily answered.
“You were investigating a guy named Frank Worley.”
Finally, that sounded familiar. More than familiar. It sent another chill through her. “He’s a money launderer.”
Jameson stared at her and then moved closer. Too close. And he looked into her eyes. “That’s what the San Antonio PD thought. So did one of his former employees. You remember that?”
“No.” But she motioned for him to continue.
He did, after he huffed. “Worley’s ex-girlfriend, Hadley Beecham, hired you to find their infant daughter, Amy, whom she claimed Worley had stolen and hidden. Hadley was killed in a suspicious car accident, but that only made you dig deeper into the case.”
She thought about that for a moment. “Maybe Worley’s the reason I disappeared. Maybe he’s the reason this is happening now?”
Jameson shrugged. “Worley’s bad news, I have no doubts about that. But I was never able to link your disappearance to him.”
“You searched for me,” she said. But wished she hadn’t. That comment only put more frustration back into his eyes.
“Because you stole that file,” he grumbled.
So he’d been looking for her to arrest her. Maybe still would. But she instinctively knew that it wouldn’t be safe to be locked up where someone could get to her. Everything inside her was screaming that she should get to a safe place, and behind bars wouldn’t be that place. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to look for that her.
A man stepped into the room. He was wearing jeans and a blue shirt, but he was in the process of putting on a white coat with a name tag stitched on it. According to the name tag, he was Dr. Timothy Halston.
“It’s okay,” Jameson said, taking hold of her arm. Until he did that, Kelly hadn’t even been aware that she was trying to get off the table. “He’s the local doc in Blue River.”
Neither the doctor nor his name meant anything to her, but Blue River rang some bells. It was Jameson’s hometown. She was sure of it. And she’d been on her way there when, well, when the incident with those men had happened.
“Jameson’s right,” the doctor added. “And I need to have a look at that gash on your head.”
The doctor moved in to do that just as Jameson’s phone rang. He stepped back into the doorway, moving away from her. Something that sent her heart racing. Even though she wasn’t sure she could fully trust Jameson, right now Kelly trusted him more than she did anyone else.
“It’s not that deep of a cut, but I guess you took a hard enough lick on the head to mess up your memory,” the doctor continued, but Kelly tuned him out and tried to hear what the caller was telling Jameson. He didn’t put his phone on speaker, but after a few seconds, he mumbled some profanity.
“When?” Jameson asked the caller.
She had to look around the doctor when he moved in front of her to continue the exam. Not that there was much to see or hear. Jameson was clearly in listening mode. And like before, he didn’t like whatever it was he was hearing.
“When will I get my memory back?” Kelly asked the doctor.
“Can’t say. Sometimes, these things only last an hour or so. Sometimes, longer. I’ll order some tests,” the doctor said, waving a penlight in front of her eyes. “How bad is the pain?”
“I’m okay,” she lied. But there was no way she wanted pain meds. Her head was already too foggy as it was.
“All right. Then I’ll get started on those tests.” The doctor again. “A nurse will be in soon to take you where you need to go.”
Jotting down some notes, the doctor left, but it took Jameson several more seconds to finish up his call. Even when he put his phone away and came back to her, he took his time saying anything.
“Is it Mandy?” she came out and asked.
Jameson nodded and didn’t seem surprised that she’d guessed that. “The cops went to her apartment. She wasn’t there, but it appeared there had been some kind of struggle.”
Oh, mercy. So this probably was connected to her sister. Someone likely had her and was holding her hostage.
“They found blood in her apartment,” Jameson added.
He had to take hold of her again or she would have bolted. Where, Kelly didn’t know, but she had to find her sister.
“The cops are looking for her.” Jameson’s grip stayed firm on her arm until she quit moving. Then he waited until their gazes were connected before he continued. “A neighbor said she saw Mandy with two men about five hours ago. She didn’t see any guns, but Mandy was walking in between the two.”
Kelly had to press her hand to her chest to try to steady her heart and her breathing. “Why didn’t the neighbor call the cops?”
“She didn’t think anything was wrong and didn’t see any signs of an injury. Apparently, she doesn’t know Mandy that well so she thought they might be friends.”
Definitely not friends. Not with that blood in the apartment. Even though the neighbor hadn’t noticed any injuries, it didn’t mean Mandy hadn’t been hurt in some way. Now those goons had had her for five hours or more, and there was no telling what they could have done to her.
“They’re holding her until I kill you.” Kelly hadn’t intended to say that aloud, but judging from the sound of agreement Jameson made, that was his theory, too.
“Please tell me you’re remembering something. Anything,” he added, “that’ll help us with this.”
Kelly tried again, but the jumble was still there. She tried to catch on to bits of it, but there was only one thing that was clear. “I’ll never see her again if they find out you’re still alive.” And finally something fell from that jumble. Not a memory. But an idea of how to fix it. “Is there a way for you to fake your death?”
No sound of agreement, but he didn’t jump to nix the idea, either. “But then what? Whoever has your sister might just decide to tie up loose ends and kill her. You’re a loose end, too.”
Yes. The worst kind. Because somewhere in that jumble of memories was perhaps the identity of the person responsible.
“I can’t just sit here and wait,” Kelly said. Her voice hardly had any sound, and the blasted tears came again. She cursed the tears because they wouldn’t help. Heck, nothing might at this point. She could risk the men coming after her, but she couldn’t take the chance that they would murder Mandy.
“There’s more,” Jameson said, sitting on the table beside her. “The neighbor gave the cops a description of the men who were with your sister.” He paused. “It matches the description of the two dead guys.”
Kelly snapped back her shoulders and shook her head. “I don’t think Mandy was with me tonight. Was she?”
“There was no sign of her, but the CSI team will process the dead guys’ SUV. We’ll also show the neighbor their pictures to see if she can confirm that’s really the people she saw.”
And if they were the same men, then that could mean only one thing. Well, one thing if Mandy was still alive. “They wouldn’t just kill Mandy if they plan to use her for leverage to get me to do...something.” The “something” in this case was to murder Jameson. “That means they must have her stashed somewhere.”
He nodded. “Gabriel will check it out. There might be something on their GPS. The CSIs will also check their phones so that we can try to pinpoint where they’d been in the past five hours.”
All of that was a good start, but it wasn’t nearly enough. “I can search for her, too.”
He gave her another of those flat looks. He was good at them, too. “You’re staying here and having those tests. In fact, you’ll probably have to spend the night here.”
Now she was the one to give him a flat look. That wasn’t going to happen even if she had to sneak out. Too bad she hadn’t managed to hang on to at least one of those weapons the sheriff had confiscated. Of course, even if she had them, Kelly wasn’t sure she’d remember how to use them.
“So what can I do?” she came out and asked.
“You can stay put and let the cops and me do our jobs.” He opened his mouth, no doubt to add more. Probably a warning for her not to try to escape. But movement in the doorway caught their attention. At first, Kelly thought maybe it was the nurse coming to take her to those tests, but it was a man. Jameson got to his feet, moved in front of her and drew his gun.
Kelly stood, too, and she peered over Jameson’s shoulder to get a better look at the man with the shaved head and bulky build. He was tall, at least six-four, and wearing a suit.
“Frank Worley,” Jameson said like profanity. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Worley. The man she’d been investigating when she disappeared. He might also be the man who’d hired those thugs to take Mandy.
“No need for that gun,” Worley insisted. “And I’m going to show you why. Don’t shoot me when I pull back my jacket.”
“Don’t give me a reason to shoot you,” Jameson countered. “But if you pull a gun, you’re a dead man.”
“What I’m going to show you isn’t a gun, but I’m carrying one. And here’s why.” Worley eased open his jacket, and she immediately spotted something she hadn’t expected to see.
A badge clipped to his belt.
“I’m a Justice Department agent,” Worley added, his attention sliding from Jameson to her. “My real name is Lawrence Boyer. And I’m here to arrest Kelly for murder.”