Carol Ericson - Circumstantial Memories

She called Jim every day to report on her progress, and he told her the memories of Ryder might be slower to come because he existed for her in the present.

“Are you there now?”

“What?” She dropped her hands to her lap.

“Are you remembering your father now?” He draped his arm across the back of the swing, his fingertips brushing her shoulder.

“No, I’m thinking about Dr. Brody.”

Ryder withdrew his arm and stiffened beside her. Damn. She’d only been thinking about Jim and his comments about Ryder. Could she backtrack now?

“I mean I’m thinking about Dr. Brody’s assessment of my memories…” She trailed off as Ryder’s frown deepened.

“About Brody.”

She waited, but Ryder suddenly found his fingernail immensely interesting.

“Yeah, what about him?” She tried to nudge the swing into motion again, but Ryder’s feet planted on the porch prevented that.

“Julia, I don’t think Dr. Brody is the best therapist for you.”

“You don’t still think he had anything to do with slashing your tires or the fire at the hotel, do you?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that…” He rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “Oh hell, I had him checked out.”

“You had Jim investigated?” She jumped up from the swing and dug her fists into her hips. Just because this man knew her from her past, helped her recover her memories and sent her pulse racing every time he touched her, didn’t give him the right to stick his nose in her personal business.

“Do you want to know what my guy discovered?” He plucked his white cowboy hat from his head, dropped it on the cushion she just vacated, and ran his long fingers through his hair.

She swallowed and nodded.

“The American Board of Professional Psychologists filed a formal complaint against Dr. Brody for inappropriate conduct with a patient four years ago.”

“And?” Her chest ached with pent-up breath. “Did he leave her flowers, rip up her underwear and slash her tires?”

“No.” He pushed up from the porch swing and it rocked back, banging the back of his legs as it swung forward. “He allowed her to spend the night at his place when she separated from her husband. I don’t know anything more than that. The complaint doesn’t give specifics.”

Her knees felt weak with relief and she leaned against the porch railing, wedging her elbows on the top railing. “So you don’t know what happened when she spent the night there? He could have just been giving her refuge. Maybe the husband was abusive.”

“Why does that matter? If it’s inappropriate conduct, it’s inappropriate conduct. At the very least, it shows a lack of judgment.”

A flash of heat claimed Julia’s cheeks as she recalled a few of Jim’s personal e-mails and phone calls to her. Ryder was right. Jim broke the rules, but that didn’t make him a bad therapist…or a dangerous one.

“I’m supposed to fire someone I’ve been seeing for three years because of one mistake or just because you tell me to?”

“Like I told you before, Julia, maybe Brody hasn’t been much help to you because he doesn’t want you to recover your memory. If he has a thing for you, he wants to keep you dependent on him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Seems to be a lot of that going around.”

Ryder gripped her shoulders and shook her. “He has a history. Even if he’s not slashing panties and tires, he’s not the best choice for a therapist-not for you.”

Ryder made sense. Jim belonged to that twilight life she’d been living for the past three years as a frightened, uncertain woman jumping at shadows and bumps in the night. She knew from Ryder’s descriptions and her own memories, she really didn’t have anything in common with that woman anymore…except Shelby.

“Maybe…” Her cell phone chirped in her purse and she held up her hand to Ryder as she shrugged out of his grasp. She snagged her purse from the porch by the side of the swing and dug out her phone. “Hello?”

“Julia, this is Sheriff Ballard.”

“Hi, Sheriff.” Ryder spun around and she raised her brows at him. “Did you discover anything about the break-in at my house?”

“No, it’s not that. I got a call this morning from Craig Settles. Do you remember him?”

“Yes.” She clutched the phone and licked her lips. “He’s the owner of the stolen car I was driving when I crashed.”

Ryder planted himself in front of her, mouthing words she couldn’t understand.

“Right. He was cleaning his garage and discovered that old duffel bag the police recovered from the car. He found something in there he didn’t notice when he first got his stuff back.”

“What is it?” Her dry mouth could barely form the words. If she hid something in that car, it couldn’t be good.

“A computer disc.”

The blood pounded in her ears and she gripped the chain of the porch swing for support. Ryder’s hand curled around her waist as he urged her to sit down.

“How does he know, how can he remember whether or not it belongs to him after all this time?”

“There’s writing on the case he doesn’t recognize, and he popped it in his computer and got some gibberish about encryption. He can’t even read what’s on it.”

She and Ryder hadn’t told Sheriff Ballard about the CD she delivered to Jeremy in Arizona. It looked as though she never delivered the real one after all. Was that why she and Jeremy were fighting before the house blew up? “Is Settles going to send it?”

“He already did. I’m holding it in my hand right now. He called to tell me to expect it today, but it arrived yesterday.”

“Have you tried it in your computer?”

“I get the same thing-gibberish. The way I see it, this CD probably belongs to you or whoever stole the car in the first place. Do you want it?”

She didn’t want anything to do with the CD. Jeremy had used it to threaten Ryder and it may have gotten Jeremy killed instead. The CD signaled trouble, but it might be important for Ryder.

She expelled a long breath. “Yeah, I want it.”

“Are you at home? I can drop it off or if I can raise Zack on the radio, I’ll have him come in and take it to you.”

“I’m at the McClintocks’ ranch, but I can be home in half an hour.”

Dropping onto the swing, Julia ended the call and held her phone cupped in her palm.

Ryder whistled. “Let me guess, the owner of the stolen car found a computer disc that didn’t belong to him. Wasn’t that car totaled?”

Drawing her leg up, Julia balanced her chin on her knee. “I totaled the car, but the cops salvaged a duffel bag out of the trunk, along with the bag of money in the backseat. The duffel bag had a few tools in it and some fishing gear. They figured it didn’t belong to me. When they contacted Craig Settles about the car, he claimed the duffel bag. I guess nobody searched it thoroughly…until now.”

A chill rippled up her spine and she hunched her shoulders.

Ryder’s strong hands massaged her neck, and she wished she could just collapse like a rag doll into his arms, let him handle everything. She wanted her memories to stop right here. She didn’t need to know anything more about her dangerous ex-husband or his lies and deceit.

The touch of Ryder’s hands melted the tension in her back, flooded her with warmth, filled her with strength. She straightened her shoulders and pushed up out of the swing. “I’m going to meet Sheriff Ballard at my house to get that CD.”

“You’re not going alone. If Ballard can’t read that CD, neither can you, but the agency just might have a chance. You’re not keeping that CD in your possession for more than thirty seconds.”

Fingers of uneasiness trailed across her flesh. She didn’t want the damn thing. She’d turn it over to Ryder and his spook buddies to decipher.