Bringing Maddie Home(22)
Author: Janice Kay Johnson

“What did they look like?”

“Dark hair, brown eyes.”

“Can I…can I see it?” Inside she recoiled. I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.

“Damn it, Nell!” Colin said explosively.

“Please.” She would not listen to the fear.

He groaned. “Maybe. Probably.” After a moment he continued. “A couple of other odd things. He had a key card from your dad’s resort. Looked like he or someone else was taking snapshots there, too. There was one of two men at your dad’s airfield.”

“That…sounds like something I would have done.”

“What?”

“I think…” This didn’t make her head hurt. “I went through a sort of Nancy Drew phase. Why do I remember this?” There wasn’t any answer to that question. “I had a camera, not a good one, but I remember sneaking around spying on guests. If he’d caught me, my father would have killed me.” Appalled, she stopped.

Colin’s expression remained gentle. “You don’t mean that literally.”

“No, but…”

He shook his head. “You know that’s not what happened, don’t you?”

Nell sucked in a deep breath. “Yes.” She couldn’t picture any more of that evening than ever, but…she knew. “Yes. It was someone else.”

“Okay.” He smiled at her. “Now we’re going to let this go.”

He was careful to keep conversation light while they finished eating. When he asked if she wanted dessert and she declined, he took care of the bill. Then they walked out, hand in hand, going to the open window by the rink, where rental skates were handed out.

After they’d both donned theirs, Colin produced fleece hats from his parka pockets. She snatched the navy blue one so he had to wear the white one with a small pom-pom, laughing at his expression.

Either he’d lied about never having ice-skated, or he was right that expertise at Nordic skiing translated well, because he moved with reasonable assurance on the blades. The rink wasn’t huge—nowhere near the size of the indoor one in Seattle where she’d skated before. But she loved this, with the black arch of sky above them, the smell of snow and pine needles in the air, the sparkle from strings of white lights the only illumination except for the golden windows of the resort and restaurant.

Nell didn’t let herself think about anything except this moment. Her mind muted the voices and laughs of the other people on the rink with them. Mostly she heard the scrape of blades on ice. Felt the comfort of that big gloved hand holding hers, even as she half wished for skin-to-skin contact. Colin laughed when he faltered, pretended he was going to fall, coaxed her into showing him how to skate backward. He kept her on her feet when she tried a leap.

Inevitably, his blade caught on a rough spot and he went down. He tried to let go of her first, but she didn’t let him. Which meant she crashed to the ice next to him, their legs tangled, both laughing as they slid to thump against a snowbank.

He rose on one elbow to look down at her, flat on her back.

“Told you,” she teased.

“You did.” His expression was utterly intent, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Only her. Slowly he lowered his head.

Nell’s heart pounded hard as she waited.

“I shouldn’t do this,” he said.

“I wish you would.” She hoped she didn’t sound as if she was begging. I want to know what it’s like.

Shock and understanding transformed his face.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. She’d said it out loud.

“I want to know, too,” he said, low and rough. And then he kissed her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HER LIPS WERE COLD. As cold as his. Each breath either of them released hung in a white cloud. He loved the quiver of her lips as he brushed one soft kiss against them after another. Once he had to lift his head to look at her again. In that moment, with her eyes closed so that her lashes fanned above those extraordinary cheekbones, she was so beautiful he felt awe.

This time, when he lowered his head, he nibbled at her plump lower lip, drinking in the small, ragged sound she made. Then, smiling, he made himself roll off her.

Nell squeaked and began to scramble to her feet. He gripped his hand and stayed her.

“Give me a second.”

“You can lie there as long as you want.” Her voice was stiff. Affronted—or was she hurt? “My butt is freezing. I can skate a lap while you stargaze.”

“There are too many people here for me to kiss you the way I want to.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought her cheeks could get any redder, but they did. She sneaked a sideways look at a mother with two giggling children who were passing. “I’m sorry. I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” he said, angry that she had so little confidence in her appeal. “You were wrong. I’ve wanted to kiss you since you showed up in Angel Butte.” He levered himself into a sitting position and decided to be honest. “Maybe before that. I’m not sure. I was fixated on you being Maddie even when I watched you in the library that night and loved the way you smiled at people. But from the minute you got here, I’ve had more trouble seeing the kid. You’re Nell,” he finished simply.

She lowered herself to her knees in front of him. “Thank you.” Her voice was small and husky. “Thank you. Everyone else sees Maddie. I hate it. I’m not her! Except sometimes, and then…I don’t know if I want to be.”

He nodded. He’d seen her conflict, which was more heavy-duty than his. “I understand,” he said. “You are both, Nell, and my guess is you’ll get more comfortable with it as you integrate the returning memories.”

“What if I don’t remember much more?” Her shadowed eyes beseeched him. “What if I’m stuck?”

“Then you are,” he said practically. “You’re a full and complete person, sweetheart. Now you know where you came from. That’s got to settle something in you.”

Her head bobbed after a moment. “Yes. Of course it does. But complete—I don’t know if I am.”

“Sure you are.” He grimaced. “And now if you don’t mind, I think my entire backside has gone numb.”

She giggled, a happy ripple of sound that made him happier than he could ever remember being. “Okay,” she said. “Need a hand?”

“Remember what happens if I’m going down and have hold of you?” If his voice was a little hoarse, he hoped she didn’t notice.

“Trust me,” she said, the smile still playing on her mouth.

In answer, he laid his hand in hers.

* * *

COLIN ACCOMPANIED JANE Vahalik to the police chief’s office. Out of respect for Bystrom’s dignity, he asked her not to bring her trainee. Out of respect for her, he’d have let her go alone if this had been anyone but their boss.

No one was in the outer office to stop them. Colin knocked briefly, and when he heard a growled “Who is it?” he opened the door and gestured Jane to go ahead of him.

Bystrom didn’t even seem to see her. His furious gaze was pinned on Colin. “You,” he snarled.

Clearly, the bank had called him. Colin was surprised he’d come into work this morning rather than staying away, lawyered up.

Vahalik drew herself up. “Sir, I’m Detective Vahalik. I have some questions I’m hoping you can answer.”

The glower swung to her. “I presume this has something to do with the goddamn warrant to intrude on my personal finances.”

“In part, sir.” She walked to the desk and laid a copy of the snapshot in front of him. “Can you tell us who the other man is?”

Choleric color crept up Gary Bystrom’s neck and onto his cheeks. “I have no idea. When was that taken?”

“In the neighborhood of ten or twelve years ago,” she murmured.

He shoved it away with an impatient gesture. “And you expect me to remember some guy I happened to exchange a few words with years ago? Sorry.”

“The conversation doesn’t appear to be casual.”

He stared incredulously at her. “You’re reading something into a piss-poor photo taken by who the hell knows? I might have been giving him some tips on where to go trout fishing. I’ll say this once more.” He leaned forward, his tone belligerent. “I do not recognize the man in the picture. Is that clear enough for you?”

Hard to imagine a guy with as much to lose as Bystrom assaulting one of his own detectives, but violence filled the air like a too-heavy cologne. Colin took a few unobtrusive steps closer. Not unobtrusive enough, apparently, as the movement drew another vicious look from his boss.

Jane didn’t even look at Colin. “I have further questions,” she said, voice steely. “Concerning your finances.”

“You owe me an explanation first,” he snapped. “What is this concerning?”

“This deposit slip—” she set the copy in front of him, beside rather than on top of the picture “—was in the possession of a murder victim.”

“What?” The single word was almost soundless.

“You are aware, sir, of the bones we’ve turned up in River Park.”

“Yes. A few scattered bones. Aren’t you making some big assumptions, Detective?”

“And what would those be, Chief Bystrom?”

Trying to stay impassive, Colin had trouble not letting his eyebrows climb. Jane Vahalik was good. Better than he’d realized. Interviewing and all but accusing the chief of police would intimidate anyone in the department, and she wasn’t so much as flinching.

“What makes you think murder was involved?” Bystrom asked, his voice dripping with skepticism and contempt.

“The fact that the body was buried in an overgrown part of a city park seems suggestive to me.” She paused. “The M.E. already believed a gunshot likely explained the way a rib had shattered.” She flicked an apologetic glance at Colin. “The bullet found this morning during further excavation seems conclusive.”

A nice tidbit she should have told him during their walk upstairs.

Bystrom seemed stunned. “I don’t understand. I know nothing more than I’ve been told or read in the newspaper about these remains. There is no connection to me.”

“And yet,” Vahalik said, “the young man carried these two items that very much point to a connection.”

He shook his head. Colin didn’t want the SOB’s bafflement to be genuine, but was unwillingly beginning to believe. There was definitely something wrong about the money—but maybe it really didn’t have anything to do with the murder of a teenage boy.

Except, goddamn it, the kid was carrying the evidence for some reason.

He tuned back in.

“You understand why we have no choice but to ask questions regarding the circled deposits to these accounts in your name and your wife’s name.” Vahalik walked around the desk to lay a folder in front of Bystrom.

Unmoving, he stared at it as if it were a coiled rattlesnake. “This makes no sense.”

He kept repeating that. Shaking his head frequently as the tip of Jane’s pencil moved from one line item to another. He had no explanation for any particular deposit. Why would he remember them? He insisted that he and his wife regularly bought and sold stocks and bonds.

“We are aware of that,” Vahalik said, slick as a patch of ice meant to take the chief’s feet out from under him. “These deposits don’t seem to correlate to any of those sales.”

He got quieter, more surly. Jane informed him that she would need copies of his income tax returns. The purple color in his face faded until, beneath the deep tan, he was turning gray. Colin began to worry about the possibility of a stroke or heart attack.

In the end, Jane straightened. “This copy is for you to study. I assume you have an accountant or tax advisor? Perhaps a broker? We’ll need to schedule a meeting with you and perhaps your wife. Bring whoever will be most helpful. Tomorrow at three o’clock?”

He mumbled something she took as assent.

“Thank you for your time, sir. I have every hope we can clear this up then so it won’t distract us from the investigation.”

Bystrom lifted his head and watched her walk across his office and out the door that Colin held open. Then he looked at Colin, hate glittering in his eyes.

Hair at his nape prickling, Colin eased himself out of the office without turning his back and closed the door. The assistant’s desk was still unoccupied and the two of them were able to quietly walk out and to the stairs.

The corner of Jane’s mouth turned up. “I’ve never interviewed a cop before.”

“If his hands had dropped out of sight behind the desk, I’d have been on him.” Not knowing where Bystrom kept his service weapon had kept Colin vigilant. Now, alone in the stairwell, he grinned at Jane. “You did a damn fine job, Detective. You didn’t need me.”

She blushed. “Thank you, Captain. But you’re wrong. Having you for backup gave me confidence.”

He could only shake his head. She’d scared the shit out of their not-so-respected police chief, and now she was blushing at a compliment.

* * *

NELL HADN’T TOLD Colin what she planned for the next day. She might have, if he hadn’t kissed her again after walking her to the apartment door.

This second kiss had been deeper, slower, so sensual that remembering it still made her shiver twelve hours later. His tongue had traced the seam of her lips until she parted them and let him in. Even then he hadn’t been aggressive. Instead of grinding his mouth against hers, he teased and stroked, his hands rhythmically squeezing her upper arms. Stunned by these new sensations, she hadn’t been able to think at all. Finally he’d gentled the kiss further, nuzzled her cheek and murmured, “Sleep tight.”