Kay Hooper - Sleeping With Fear

Maybe.

Or maybe it was something else. Something that had occurred to Riley as her mind raced when Ash told her about a decision made, apparently, in those missing hours.

What if it happened again? What if she decided things, did things, made choices today that she wouldn't remember tomorrow? It had happened a second time now; had she somehow guessed or known that her spotty memory and damaged senses had only been the beginning of her problems? What if her mind, her brain, had sustained even more damage from the attack on Sunday night than she had any way of estimating?

What then?

Again, logic demanded that if she intended to remain on the case under these circumstances-and she did-then she needed someone trustworthy who not only knew the truth but was also in a position to stick close and observe her virtually around the clock. At any other time, another SCU member would have been the automatic choice. But that simply wasn't possible now.

Her lover, the DA of Hazard County, was the best choice she was left with.

But to say that Riley felt either confident in or comfortable with that decision would have been to overstate the matter. For one thing, it was a very unofficial way to conduct herself during an investigation, and not at all in character for her. For another and far more vital thing…

Can I trust him? I feel I can. Sometimes. Most of the time. But not always.

Doubts she couldn't even put into words nagged at her. It was like catching a glimpse of some movement from the corner of her eye, only to see nothing when she looked directly at it. She felt that way about Ash, that there was more going on than she could see, could know, and it made her wary.

But can I trust my feelings? Any of them?

And even if I can trust him, will he understand?

Can he?

She hadn't yet made up her mind how to explain the situation to Ash. How much to tell him.

Do I tell him how out of control I feel? Do I tell him I'm scared? Do I tell him I don't remember us?

She didn't know.

"Riley?"

She realized she had tied the empty PowerBar wrapper into a knot, twice, and forced herself to stop. "Yeah?"

"You haven't told me a whole lot about the work you do, at least in specifics. But what you have said, and what I know of you, tells me that you've used your abilities most of your life. Yes?"

"Since I was a kid, yeah."

"And we've already discussed the fact that both your army and FBI training and experience have prepared you to face just about any eventuality."

Riley didn't reply since it wasn't a question, and as he pulled the Hummer into a space near the dog park she turned slightly in her seat to look at him.

Ash turned the engine off, then met her gaze and nodded slightly. "All that being the case, I have to ask what makes this situation different for you."

"I told you I'd never gotten involved with anyone during an investigation."

"Yeah, but I'm not talking about us. I'm talking about you."

"Ash-"

"You're scared. And I want to know why."

After a moment, she said, "Does it show so plainly?"

He shook his head. "As a matter of fact, if I didn't know you so well I never would have seen any sign of it. There was nothing you said or did that gave you away, not really. You've just been…a bit off the last few days. Quieter. Slower to react, to answer a question. And you've been tossing and turning a lot every night. So not quite yourself."

"And you read that as fear?"

"Not at first. I'd venture to guess very little scares you, and I'm pretty sure you've seen things that would make my hair stand on end. So fear wasn't the first possibility I thought of when I realized something was wrong."

Riley waited.

"But then it dawned on me that despite what you were telling me, the way you've been burning energy so quickly during the last few days was unusual. Even for a case. And that either you didn't know why it was happening, or you were shaken because it wasn't something you could control. Control is a big issue for you, we both know that. It's a trait we share."

"Which is why you realized I was probably afraid."

"If there's something you can't control in your life, fear is possible; it's a natural response no matter what kind of training you've had. If there's something you can't control in yourself, fear is fairly inescapable, at least for people like us."

"Makes sense," she said, echoing his earlier comment. "And it's a good read."

"Accurate?"

Riley nodded reluctantly. "Accurate enough. This is-I haven't encountered a situation like this one before."

"In what way?"

She hesitated again, her mind still racing, still torn with uncertainty and wariness, then finally took that leap of faith. She had to trust him. She had no choice. "The burns on the back of my neck?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah?"

"Not from a curling iron. Apparently, I was…immobilized by a stun gun sometime Sunday night."

"You were attacked?"

"Apparently."

Ash drew a breath and let it out slowly. "That's twice you've used that word. Apparently. You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

He got it quickly. "The electrical charge. It affected your mind?"

Riley nodded. "My memory. My senses. All my senses, even the extra ones. I've been scrambling ever since. To catch up, to remember. To figure things out."

"Christ, Riley. Do you remember what you were doing, who you were with?"

"Not so much. And it's been a bit difficult to piece things together without admitting I don't have a clue what happened."

"And I'm hearing this only now?"

She kept her tone even. "Imagine waking up with your memory full of holes. Imagine that when you woke up, you had dried blood on you. And then imagine that before you could get your feet under you and try to figure out what had happened, you were called to the scene of a grisly murder." Riley managed a shrug. "It took me a while just to get all the characters straight, never mind the plot. I'm still working on that."

"Dried blood on you?"

"That was the part of the report from Quantico that I didn't want to explain to Jake. First test: human. The blood on my clothes was human; my boss ordered it tested."

Slowly, Ash said, "And the second test said the blood was the same type as the donor. So the blood on you matched what was in the victim's stomach?"

Riley nodded. "I don't have a clue how it got all over me, but the obvious possibility is that I was there. At some point before, during, or after that murder, I was there. Involved somehow."

"You didn't kill anybody," he said immediately.

"I certainly hope not. But I can't explain that blood. And until I can, admitting all this to Jake doesn't seem like a good idea. Especially since he's not all that happy with me right now."

Ash frowned. "Wait a minute. On Sunday night, you told me-unexpectedly-that you needed some time alone and sent me away. Which means you knew something was going to happen."

"Or at least knew I wanted to do some investigating on my own, yeah, we can assume that."

"But you don't remember where you were planning to go or why?"

"Afraid not."

He turned his gaze forward, staring through the windshield as his long fingers drummed on the steering wheel for a moment. Then he looked at her again, this time with a certain amount of anger. "This was never just a vacation for you, was it, Riley?"

So I hadn't confided in him about that. Why not?

Dammit , why not?

"Riley-"

"It's never just a vacation for me. Never."

Mobile , Alabama

2½ Years Previously