Obsession With Murder Page 9

  Ben was sitting in the middle of a bedroom floor, screwdriver between his teeth, as he positioned the pieces of a large bed together. His shirt was off and sitting on the stack of boxes by the door, so she could see the beads of sweat running down his back.

  Then he was carrying the boxes, two or three at a time, through the bathroom and into the closet. After moving the last box, he glided his hand gently along the side of her assembled and made bed, adjusting the sheets one last time before grabbing his shirt and heading for the bathroom. He ran the water in the sink, splashing it on his face before using his shirt to pat his sweat soaked body dry.

  Though it was a shock, she didn’t rush to open her eyes again. Part of her wanted to push to see something else, but she knew deep down that there was no point. What left her wondering wasn’t what she saw, but what exactly the event had been.

  It didn’t really feel like the flashes she’d had before, although there was something slightly similar about it. She wanted to believe that it was a memory instead, but she knew by its contents that couldn’t have been the case. Ben appeared to have been alone in every scene she saw. It couldn’t be a memory if she wasn’t there when it happened. Still, there was something about it that left her feeling it was more than just a flash.

  Rilynne didn’t climb from the tub until the water had cooled to near room temperature. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she didn’t really care. She’d actually considered filling the tub back up when she caught a whiff of the aromas floating in from downstairs.

  While she was enjoying the feeling of almost carelessness in the bath, her hunger was growing with each passing moment. She had a feeling if she didn’t eat something soon, everything she’d accomplished while in the bath would quickly vanish. After toweling off, Rilynne slipped into her pajamas and followed the scent to its source.

  “Pizza just got here,” Amber said when Rilynne stepped back into the living room. “I figured pizza and beer would be the most comforting I could manage at the moment. Besides, there isn’t really much to work within that refrigerator of yours.”

  Rilynne crossed to the kitchen, looking around as she walked. “Where’s Elise?” she asked. She reached out and grabbed the plate Amber had held out for her before turning and walking back into the living room. “Did she leave?”

  “Mhmm,” Amber mumbled as she followed, taking a large bite of the cheese and tomato pizza as she walked. “Since Detective Wilcome won’t let her touch anything related to your case, he has her covering the slack on the other cases in the office. I don’t have to tell you how unhappy she is about it, but Ben wouldn’t want her to just let them pile up.”

  Rilynne twisted the top off of one of the beer bottles Amber placed on the table and swallowed nearly half of it in one gulp. It was more satisfying than she had anticipated. She wondered if it was the beer itself, or just the intake of fluids in general, but she couldn’t decide.

  “Don’t drink it all at once,” Amber stated, smirking at Rilynne as she stared at the bottle. “It’s the only one you get. People who suffer brain injuries aren’t supposed to consume alcohol, but as there’s a good chance your amnesia is caused more by the traumatic events surrounding what happened to you than by the actual blow to the head, having one won’t do you any harm. It might, however, help you relax a little.”

  Rilynne sat the bottle back down without taking a second drink, wanting to savor it as long as she could. “How do you know the amnesia wasn’t just caused by the hit I took?” she asked before taking a bite. The cheese was hot on the roof of her mouth, almost to the point of burning it. She quickly breathed in to cool it down before she continued chewing.

  “We can’t know for sure, but your doctor had a neurologist look over your scans, and she said all indications suggest the blow started the cascade that ended where you are now. There was only a minute bit of damage they could see. Chances are, the blow by itself probably wouldn’t have left you in this state,” Amber explained.

  “So that means something bad enough had to happen for me to lose my mind like this,” Rilynne stated, feeling herself sinking back down inside. With everything she’d likely seen and been through in her life, it would have had to have been something really bad to affect her in such a way. Nothing about that left her with a good feeling about Ben.

  Rilynne picked her beer back up and finished the rest of it, wishing she was able to have a second or third. Amber must have known exactly where her head had gone, because she sat her plate down on the table and reached for Rilynne’s hand.

  “It’s actually a good thing,” she said, a reassuring tone only a mother could have carrying in her voice. “It means there is a good chance you’ll get back everything you’ve forgotten. It may take some time, but there are a lot of things we can try to fix it. I have no doubt that you will eventually regain all of your memories.”

  Rilynne sat her plate down on the table, having suddenly lost her appetite. “What’s the point in getting it all back if something has happened to Ben?” she asked, honestly wondering if she was better off where she was. “Right now I’m confused and in a little pain because I can’t remember anything and I know my husband is missing, but it’s nothing compared to what I’d be feeling if I had all of those feelings and memories floating around in my head. If something horrible has happened to him, I don’t know if I want to feel the pain that comes with having my memories back.”

  Amber didn’t seem to have a response, because she just sat back in silence and studied her daughter’s face. After a few tense moments, Rilynne stood and excused herself before retreating to her bedroom. Her head was once again filled with the overpowering fog she had become all too familiar with. There was barely any room to think, so she didn’t. She just pulled back the blankets on the bed, climbed in, and closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, part of her wished she just wouldn’t wake up again.

  Chapter Ten

  Rilynne wasn’t surprised to see Amber standing over the stove when she walked through her bedroom door the next morning. The sun shining through the kitchen window almost made her glow.

  “You don’t have to keep cooking me breakfast every morning,” Rilynne said groggily, feeling guilty for the way she had ended the night before. “I’m pretty sure I saw a box of cereal in the pantry yesterday. That would be more than good enough for me.”

  Amber shrugged without looking up at her. “I don’t mind,” she said. “Besides, I have no desire to eat cereal, and it would be rude if I just made something for myself.”

  There was no arguing with that. Rilynne dropped down on one of the stools lining the island and took a sip out of the already poured orange juice as she watched Amber toss the pan gently up, flipping a pancake through the air as she did. There was something almost graceful about it that left Rilynne mesmerized.

  “Two?” Amber asked.

  “What?” Rilynne asked, snapping back to the moment. “Oh, yes, two’s fine.”

  Amber tossed the pan one last time, catching the pancake on a plate as it came back down. This was something she’d apparently done many times before, because she wasn’t even slightly shocked by her accomplishment.

  “Eat up,” she said, setting the plate down in front of her. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”

  Rilynne picked up her fork and cut into the pancakes without asking what she had to do. She wasn’t awake enough to care. Although she wouldn’t admit it to herself, let alone say it aloud for anyone else to hear, she really didn’t want to do much of anything. Nothing would have made her happier than to simply curl up on the couch and delve into the latest hit television show, caring about nothing more than the drama going on in the lives of others. Even thinking about it, though, made her feel only guilty. With so much relying on her getting her memories back, it was selfish to want to slink back and just disappear for a while.

  “Detective Matthews asked me to take you up to the station today,” Amber said as she grabbed the plate from in fro
nt of Rilynne as soon as she finished the last bite and placed it into the sink. I told him we should be there in about half an hour.

  “Did he find something?” Rilynne asked, feeling a slight twinge of excitement.

  Amber shook her head. “Not as of the last time I spoke to him. He wants to test out a few things to try and trigger some memories. His friend, Dr. Carnes, is chief of surgery at the hospital and he called a few specialists who gave Matthews some ideas. He’s taking the day to see what he can do to get you, well... he’s going to try to get you back.”

  Rilynne felt a surge of hope spreading inside of her, but she quickly pushed it back. Although a part of her still wanted nothing more than to remember who she was and get back to her life, she wasn’t willing to let herself feel it. Almost nothing she had felt the past few days had been uplifting; she didn’t think she would be able to handle anymore disappointment. Even more than that, she was still afraid of what could come from regaining everything.

  “Go get ready and I’ll take you up there,” Amber added when Rilynne didn’t speak. “Do you want me to help you pick something out to wear?”

  “No,” Rilynne said quickly. She laughed to herself at the thought of having her mother pick out her clothes, almost as if she were a child getting ready for the first day of school. Although it would likely make things easier, she was determined to maintain as much independence as possible. “I’m sure I can find something. If it’s not something I usually wear, I imagine people with let it slide.”

  Amber offered her a kind smile and started picking up the kitchen as Rilynne made her way back across the living room and stepped into her bedroom.

  After sifting through the closet, she regretted turning down her mother’s offer. The closet was full, and although a good chunk of the shirts seemed to be what she would wear to work, she had no idea where to start. Finally, she grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on before slipping back into the jeans she wore the night before. Even if it wasn’t something the old Rilynne would wear, she was comfortable and that was all that really mattered.

  Neither spoke a word as they rode to the station. When they pulled up, Rilynne was relieved to see Matthews standing in front of the station waiting for them. She wasn’t really up to going in to the office and looking at the helpless looks on the faces of those that were there. She didn’t know how many more of them she’d be able to take before being overcome with the desire to punch someone.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Amber said as Rilynne reached for the door handle. “I’m going to go over and visit with Katy and the girls. Knowing Matthews, he probably hasn’t been home much since this all started. I’m sure she could use a little company.”

  “Thank you,” Rilynne said, feeling almost like a teenager getting dropped off at school, or at least how she expected one would feel.

  She watched Amber drive away before turning and facing her partner.

  “I hear you have some ideas to get my head back on straight,” she said, trying to force a smile.

  Matthews offered a weak one of his own, apparently seeing right through her’s, then motioned toward his car.

  “I can’t promise this is going to be easy,” he said, opening the passenger door for her. “We can start off a little slow, though. If we weren’t faced with this situation with Ben, I’d take it as slow as you needed.”

  “But we can’t lose any time,” Rilynne finished, sliding into the seat and pulling the door closed.

  Rilynne didn’t ask where the first stop was, but she wasn’t entirely surprised when they pulled up to a shooting range minutes later. Although she was nervous at the thought of firing a gun, she didn’t let it show as she climbed out of the car and followed him in.

  She avoided eye contact with everyone they passed as she stayed close behind Matthews. Not only did she not want to see the sympathetic looks from anyone who had heard of her ordeal, but she didn’t want to be confronted and asked about her visible injuries by anyone who hadn’t. She had no memory of her face prior to seeing it in the hospital, but even looking at herself covered it the deep bruises was a bit of a shock.

  After checking them in, Matthews handed her a pair of protective earmuffs and walked through a door in the back.

  “You’ll be here,” he said, directing her to the small booth at the end of the room. Before she could respond, a wave of shots echoed toward them from a booth at the opposite end of the room. Rilynne jumped, instantly feeling silly. Matthews didn’t react, but she still avoided meeting his eye. “Don’t worry if you aren’t able to hit the target exactly where you want. That’s not why we’re here. Just concentrate on the feel of the gun in your hands. Do you need me to show you how?”

  Rilynne quickly shook her head. “I think I can figure it out. Just point and squeeze. I guess it’s a good thing I’m right handed.” She held up her casted left wrist and grinned. Even though the point wasn’t to make the perfect shot, she didn’t think she would even be able to pull the trigger with the cast in place.

  Matthews loaded the gun and took the safety off before setting it down on the table in front of her.

  “We still haven’t been able to track down your duty pistol, so you can use this one. It’s the same model, so it should feel like yours,” he stated.

  She stared down at the gun. As a detective, she knew she would have had a pistol, but she hadn’t given any thought to where it was. This was the first time someone had mentioned to her that it was missing. If that were the case, it would mean she had it with her when the incident happened. Had she shot someone? That could explain why there was an unknown blood sample on her clothes. The thought of it unsettled her, which only made her consider the possibility more. In her mind, shooting someone would have been a traumatic event, perhaps even enough to trigger the amnesia.

  Matthews paid no attention to her hesitation as he pulled his own gun out and ducked into the booth just to her right. She was glad he didn’t stay behind her just to watch her. Although she was sure he wouldn’t judge her, no matter what happened, she wouldn’t really feel comfortable with an audience.

  Rilynne picked up the gun and held it out in front of her. It was heavier than she thought it would be, though only by a little. After letting out a deep breath in an attempt to subdue the knots that were growing tighter within, she took aim, resting her cast firmly against the gun to steady it, and squeezed the trigger.

  The force of the gun as she fired shocked her, even enough to send a twinge of pain through her left arm, but something about it was almost familiar. She squeezed again and again until only empty clicks rang out. The smell of the gunpowder surrounded her and was almost consuming. She closed her eyes and tried to let it carry her to a memory of any kind, but had no success. It was like a word on the tip of her tongue; she knew it was there, she just couldn’t quite reach it. As she sat the gun back down in front of her, she was left feeling only more frustrated than when they had arrived.

  “I’m impressed,” Matthews said, pushing a button that sent her target rocketing toward them. “I didn’t expect you to shoot anywhere close to where you were before. This is better than half the officers in the station. I might have to take this back to the office with us and show Donovan that, even with amnesia and a broken wrist, you can still shoot better than he can. Or better yet, convince him to challenge you to a shoot off. I could make a few bucks off that one.”

  She hadn’t paid any attention to where the shots had landed as she was firing. As she examined the target when it reached them, she couldn’t help but feel a little proud. All but one of the shots had struck the target circle, the other missing by only a centimeter.

  “That was actually pretty fun,” she admitted. “It didn’t bring back anything for me, but I understand why people like doing it. I can’t say I’d recommend doing it with a broken wrist, though. That smarts a little. So, what’s next?”

  Matthews looked a little disappointed that the experience didn’t end the whole ordeal. They shot a
few more rounds before he resigned to the fact that his idea wasn’t working and they walked back to the front. They had already signed out and were back in the car before his mood started to lift again.

  “The next stop will probably have a little more success,” he said, pulling out of the parking lot. “Shooting is definitely familiar to you, but this one will have more of a personal connection for you and Ben. I will warn you, it isn’t going to be as entertaining. I wouldn’t really pick these memories to be the first you get, but it might be strong enough to get the job done.”

  Rilynne didn’t question it until minutes later when he turned off into another parking lot. She had considered many possibilities as to where he could be taking her, but this hadn’t even come close to making the list.

  “So you’re trying to get my memories back by bringing me to a cemetery?” she asked, cautiously reaching for the door handle. When he let out a sound that landed somewhere between a groan and a chuckle, she pushed it open and stepped out. “Please tell me that something not completely terrible happened here that you want to remind me of and that you aren’t bringing me here to see the grave of someone I knew.” As she said it, her mind drifted back to her father. Her mother had briefly covered what had happened to him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted the extended edition.

  “Neither, actually,” he stated. He started walking down a thin gravel path. “You moved here from Bodker to help us track down a serial killer that was targeting men. Each was abducted, held for a week, then killed and dismembered. You transferred in just before the eighth victim was taken. Amazingly, you found his body just hours after it had been dumped. That’s actually where you first met Ben. He responded to the scene with another forensic tech we had, Nicole Benson. The ninth victim, Derek Hartley, was living in the apartment directly above yours when he was taken. You were correct at the time to assume he was chosen in an attempt to make a statement about you. With as quick as you were able to find the eighth dumpsite, the killer wanted to show you, as well as everyone else, that she was better than you. It was her way of saying she could take a victim from only feet away from you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.”