Sara K. Parker - Dying To Remember

“Don’t even go there.” Autumn cut her off. “No way you’ve imagined a silver car following you home three days in a row.”

Her friend’s words brought on an unsettling mixture of reassurance and fear. On the one hand, it was a relief to know that she had an ally who didn’t think she was losing her marbles. On the other hand, Autumn’s support meant that Ella could truly be in danger. If she was in danger, she needed help. There was only one place she could go for that, one person who might be able to figure things out—which was why she’d had the driver change course in the first place. But now she was having second thoughts.

“The office is probably closed,” she hedged, knowing full well she could simply make a phone call to find out.

“Look,” Autumn said, her voice urgent. “If you turn around, I’ll take myself up there right now and tell Roman DeHart you’re too chicken to face him, but you need his help.”

Autumn’s pushy nature was as much an annoyance as it was a confirmation that this was no time to take risks. Ella hadn’t realized how much she’d missed their friendship. She’d let distance and time do what they did best—water down old memories and fill the empty spaces with new ones.

“I’m not chicken.” Well, maybe a little. Though she’d never admit to it. “But what if this is all what the doctor’s been warning me about? Memory lapses. Confusion. Paranoia.” She touched the hat that covered her healing wound.

“Paranoia doesn’t explain what happened to Marilynn. Or your mom,” Autumn said.

“The police—”

Autumn cut in. “You know something’s going on.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know... What if I’m wrong?”

“What if you’re right?”

If Ella was right, then someone had tried to kill her last month and that same someone was looking for another opportunity. If she was right, her mother’s accident and Marilynn Rice’s death were somehow connected. After all, the two had been close friends and had worked together at Graceway, her mother’s nonprofit, for years.

No question about it. If Ella was right, she needed Roman’s help.

“Exactly,” Autumn said as if she’d read Ella’s thoughts in the empty silence. “Now, are you going to pay Roman a visit or am I?”

Ella wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Roman again after all these years and she didn’t like ultimatums. But she knew Autumn was right. She needed help, and Roman’s security company was the best place to turn.

She sighed into the phone. “I’ll do it.” Ending the call, she scanned the traffic outside her cab for the sedan once more.

Her stomach churned and she pressed a hand to her abdomen. The meds made her nauseous, but she’d keep taking them for now. Intermittent nausea was better than the explosive migraines that had been plaguing her for weeks. And at least her mood had stabilized. Her doctor had pushed an increase in the dosage of her Prozac, reminding her that her memory lapses may subside when her emotions were more regulated. But while the meds had helped with her anxiety, Ella knew she wasn’t depressed, and she certainly didn’t need more medicine.

She needed the truth. And she needed help.

Fear crawled along the back of her neck as she peered out the back window. Still no silver sedan. She was pretty certain it was a Toyota Camry, but the car had never been close enough for her to make out the driver. Ella faced forward again, watching as Baltimore’s Inner Harbor came into view, city lights glimmering against dark waters.

After-work traffic and icing roads didn’t seem to faze the taxi driver as he weaved through the city. Ella wanted to tell him to slow down. Maybe just turn around all together. It was after six on a Friday evening, after all. Roman had probably left the office by now.

She half hoped he had.

More than six years had passed since they’d parted ways. Six years since his sister’s murder had devastated them both and torn their relationship apart. She wondered if time had been kind to him. If he’d learned to smile again. To laugh.

If he’d gotten married, had kids.

She’d wondered for a long time, but it had been years since she’d tried to find out.

The car pulled over and slowed to a stop. She should have called, set up an appointment.

No turning back now.

Ella’s gaze traveled across the sidewalk and up the grand entrance where the Shield Protection logo was boldly printed above a set of mammoth mahogany doors.

A knot of regret tightened in her stomach. Roman and his dad had purchased the historic building together, Roman’s brothers joining in on the renovation in memory of their sister. Roman had sent Ella a personal invitation to the grand opening four years ago, which she had initially declined. She had started a new life for herself in Colorado, and she knew that seeing Roman again would threaten the progress she had made toward putting the past behind her.

Only, at the last minute, she’d hopped on a plane, telling herself she owed the DeHart family her support—and convincing herself that the trip would bring closure. She had never been so wrong in her life. No sooner had she stepped out of her rental car that afternoon than she’d spotted Roman hand in hand with a striking redhead. Maybe Ella shouldn’t have been surprised or hurt that he had moved on, but she simply hadn’t been able to face him, so she’d left the event before anyone had even realized she was there.

“You all set?” the driver asked, watching her in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, could you wait here?” she asked as she pushed the door open. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be...”

He shrugged. “Meter’s running.”

She didn’t care. It was freezing outside—unseasonably so for Maryland in November—and she didn’t relish the idea of standing at the curb trying to flag down another taxi when she was ready to head back to her childhood home in Annapolis. Especially when the stranger in the silver car could reappear at any moment.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, taking a quick look up and down the street. She still didn’t see any sign of that car. Pushing aside self-doubt, she lowered her head against the bitter wind and carefully navigated the salted but still ice-slick steps of Shield.

She grabbed hold of the wrought-iron railing with a gloved hand. Six steps up and she was standing at the doors reading the posted sign that they closed at 5:30 p.m. Disappointment warred with relief. The silver car was gone for now and at least she could truthfully tell Autumn she’d attempted to see Roman.

She pressed the doorbell anyway, just to be sure. Waited a couple of seconds and turned toward the cab. She would call in the morning to make an appointment.

She’d only taken two steps when she heard a voice as familiar as her own heartbeat.

“May I help you?”

Her heart jolted and she turned to the doors, peering up at the security camera.

“Sorry,” she said. “I know you’re closed...”

“Ella? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m buzzing you in. Take the elevator up to the fifth floor. I’ll wait for you there.”

A clicking noise sounded and Ella reached for the door, pulling it open and stepping inside.

She removed her gloves and tucked them into her purse, then tugged at the edges of her cap to make sure it was secure.

A reception desk sat empty, its black granite shiny and clean. Ella’s boots squeaked along the hardwood floors as she made her way to the elevator.

Inside, she pressed the number five and clenched her hands together as she ascended. Five floors were all that stood between Ella and the man she’d spent the last several years learning to live without.