Carol Ericson - Circumstantial Memories

“The man was drunk as a skunk. His blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit. So even if someone hadn’t given him a little shove down the embankment, he was headed for trouble on that stretch of the road.”

“Someone pushed his car off the road?” Julia knew that stretch of the road too well. She shivered and convulsively clutched Ryder’s hand. First Brody, then Zack.

Nodding, Rafe sank to the top step, stretching out his long legs. “His back bumper was dented, and a car left a blue streak on his paint. Brody went over that cliff nose first. All the damage from the impact occurred on the front of the car.”

“Any leads or witnesses?” Ryder squeezed Julia’s hand right back.

“The night of the accident, the bartender and a few patrons at the Silver Rim Lounge in Durango reported that Brody was boozing it up at the bar. Another man joined him and kept buying him drinks and they stumbled out of the bar together at closing time.”

A furrow formed between Ryder’s brows. “Was Brody a drinker?”

“He was an alcoholic in recovery. That’s how he got into hypnosis. It helped him stop drinking.” Julia tilted her chin, defying Ryder to comment on the impropriety of a therapist discussing his personal life with a client. She’d been a fool not to have seen Dr. Brody’s growing attraction to her, but she didn’t need Ryder’s judgment.

But condemnation of her relationship with Dr. Brody appeared to be the last thing on Ryder’s mind, as he absently rubbed his thumb along her wrist. “Did any of the witnesses in the bar give you a description of the man?”

“Sure did. Dark, curly hair, sunglasses and covered up.”

“Covered up?” Julia quirked a brow at Rafe. “What does that mean?”

“The guy was overdressed for the weather outside and the temperature in the bar. In addition to jeans, he was wearing a long-sleeve turtleneck and had a knit cap pulled low on his forehead.”

“How did the witnesses notice his hair then?” Ryder asked.

“It was sticking out beneath the edge of the cap.”

“Whoa.” Julia held up her hands. “Back up a minute. The guy was wearing sunglasses indoors?”

Rafe shrugged. “Happens all the time in L.A. Jack Nicholson always wears sunglasses.”

“We’re not in L.A. and I’m sure that wasn’t Jack Nicholson.” Julia clamped a hand over her mouth. Sunglasses at night. The man in the blue car who tried to get her to pull over.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

Julia jumped from the swing and clasped the swing’s chain for support. “I’ve seen that man. Ryder, I told you about him after the break-in at my house.”

Ryder and Rafe both shot to their feet and peppered her with questions. She told Rafe about driving home from her last class of the semester and the man in the dark blue sedan who tried to get her pull over for a flat tire that didn’t exist.

“Did you see him again?” Rafe pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. “Did you get a license plate number?”

She shook her head. “I never saw him again, but then I didn’t get a good look at him. I just remember the sunglasses. Do you think he’s the monster who’s been stalking me? Do you think he drove Dr. Brody off the road and killed Zack?”

A wave of nausea washed over her and she clutched her stomach, doubling over. If she had pulled over that night she might already be dead. No, not dead. He didn’t want to kill her. He made that clear the other night.

Ryder’s strong arms led her back to the porch swing and he sat next to her, holding her close. “At least he’s out in the open now. People have seen him. You’ve seen him.”

“Not really.” She wiped the back of her hand across her clammy brow. “I probably wouldn’t recognize him if I ran into him on Main Street. The sunglasses, the hat, the clothes. He’s wearing a disguise, isn’t he?”

“Maybe.” Rafe leaned against the porch railing and shoved his notebook back in his pocket. “But it’s more than you had before.”

“Do you have a composite drawing of the man in the bar with Brody?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on it.”

“How are Sheriff Ballard and his wife holding up?” Julia rested her head on Ryder’s shoulder. Might as well take advantage of his presence in Silverhill while it lasted. Who knew how long he planned to stay? Maybe he’d leave before the police even caught this guy.

Rafe lifted a shoulder. “The sheriff’s a stoic old guy, but Mrs. Ballard is wrecked. She’s been wanting to move nearer to her daughter’s family in Atlanta, and I think this is going to be the deciding factor. She can’t stay here.”

Julia knew the feeling. Some maniac had shattered their peaceful existence in Silverhill and she brought him here. Her neighbors, who had once welcomed her, now eyed her with suspicion and thinly veiled hostility. She recognized the looks. The people of Silverhill had directed the same looks her way when the media descended on the town, bringing with them a circus atmosphere in their zeal to cover Julia’s bizarre story.

She got the looks again when the good folks of Silverhill discovered she’d had a relationship and a child with one of its own eligible bachelors.

Even Ryder’s stepmother alluded to Julia’s disruptive effect on the town of Silverhill. Perhaps it was time to wrap up this chapter of her life and move back to Paris. She’d already written a letter to her mother, sending pictures of Shelby. If her mother wanted to see her, she’d hop on the next flight to the city of lights and romance…as a single mom.

Charlie Malone’s jeep crawled up the drive and he pulled to a stop in front of the house. He lumbered up the walkway and nodded to the two McClintock brothers, ignoring Rafe’s outstretched hand. “My mom sent me over to pick up some food for the Ballards.”

“Is your mom over there now?” Julia asked.

Charlie nodded. “Mrs. Ballard is going back to Atlanta with her daughter, Kelly, after Zack’s funeral.”

Julia rose from the swing and took Charlie’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry. I know Zack was your friend.”

“Didn’t the two of you have a fight last week?” Rafe slid his back up the post and crossed his arms. “Sheriff Ballard said he caught the two of you arguing about something at the B and B.”

“It wasn’t a fight.” Charlie puffed out his chest and glared at Rafe.

“Whatever it was, you owe me an explanation. Like it or not, I’m the new Deputy Sheriff in town.”

Rafe hadn’t moved a muscle and he still slumped against the post, but his glittering blue eyes signaled danger.

Charlie read the sign loud and clear. He coughed. “We had a…discussion about Rosie.”

“Rosie?” Rafe lifted a brow that disappeared beneath the rim of his black cowboy hat.

“She works for us at the B and B.” Charlie kicked his boot against the top step. “Me and her are dating, and Zack started to move in on her. When I told him to back off, he laughed at me.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “So tell me, Charlie, did you decide to get rid of the competition?”

“Rafe!” Julia’s voice cracked. Were these McClintocks crazy?

“No.” Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t want Zack dead. I just wanted him to leave Rosie alone. And that goes for everyone else. Does your stepmom have that food, Ryder?”

Ryder snapped his gaping mouth shut and shook his head. “She’s still cooking. She’ll have something later this afternoon and she’ll bring it over herself.”

Charlie grunted and stomped back to his jeep, little tufts of dust rising from his boots.

Julia blinked. “What was that all about?”

“I think that’s Charlie Malone in love.” Ryder scratched his chin. “But why does he have it in for you, Rafe?”