Fatal Memories. Tanya Stowe

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      He punched in the number for a cup of coffee and took a sip of the scalding liquid. It burned its way down his throat, searing away any lingering images. After a while he felt loose and relaxed...enough that if he sat in one of the chairs, he might fall asleep. So he stepped around the corner from the waiting room, leaned against the side of the coffee machine and slid all the way to the floor. With his knees bent up and the hot coffee in his hands, he was uncomfortable enough to stay awake. He let his head rest on the cold metal wall of the machine and closed his eyes.

      Quiet slipped over the waiting room. The silence helped him think. Where was Jason Walker? Dylan was almost 100 percent certain that’s who Joss was protecting. Everyone knew she was close to her brother. Dylan had known her for a little over a month, and he knew the details of her past. Joss wasn’t secretive. They’d discussed many things, including how she hated monsoon season. Her father, the owner of a corner convenience store, had been killed in a robbery gone haywire right after a massive storm.

      Joss’s mother ran the store and took care of her kids until she contracted a rare kidney disease and passed away when Joss was still in high school.

      Jason Walker left college to take care of his sister and the family business, but it was too much for him. He lost the store and started to work as a mechanic, at the shop where he was still employed. Joss went on to college, graduated with honors and entered the academy, where she finished at the top of her class. She’d often spoken to Dylan about the sacrifices her brother had made and how much she owed her good life to him. When she talked about it, she almost sounded guilty...an emotion Dylan understood only too well.

      It seemed her father’s tragic death had charted her path, much as his sister’s death had set Dylan on his course. They had that much in common. Did they also share the need to protect someone they cared about?

      The click of a door opening interrupted Dylan’s stream of thought. Probably the nurse taking Joss’s vitals again. He closed his eyes. But when he didn’t hear the corresponding click of the door closing, it puzzled him. Peeking around the corner, he saw a man dressed in medical scrubs—but he’d come from the door leading to the stairs, not the nurse’s station, which was in the opposite direction. He’d held the door in a stealthy manner so it would not click shut. His head was shaved, and tattoos covered one arm and crawled up his neck. Dylan couldn’t see what they were. Something else caught his attention. The man carried a syringe in one hand. His efforts at silence and his furtive movements struck an alarm bell.

      The man paused to look around. Dylan ducked behind the machine. He wanted to know where the guy was headed before he acted. After a few moments he looked out again. The man was headed straight for Joss’s door.

      Dylan dropped his empty cup and lunged to his feet. He moved quietly so the man wouldn’t see him coming, but Dylan would never be able to stop him from entering Joss’s room in time. The man was too far ahead of him. He had to do something.

      “Hey!” His shout rang through the halls of the sleeping hospital. “What are you doing?”

      The man halted. Seeing Dylan running toward him, he spun and ran for the stairs. Dylan dashed across the space, to catch him at the portal. Just as Dylan reached for him, the man spun around, slashing crosswise with the hypodermic needle. Dylan dodged, hit the chairs behind him and tumbled over. He landed hard and was momentarily stunned. By the time he got to his feet, the man was out the door and gone.

      Torn between giving chase and staying by Joss’s side, he hesitated. A nurse came running up. “What’s going on?”

      “Someone tried to get into Joss’s room. Stay with her!”

      He dashed down the stairs, pausing at each floor. At the bottom, he ran into the hall. A security guard was looking out the window by the exit. Dylan moved toward him, holding out his badge. The guard straightened.

      “Did a man with a shaved head come by here?”

      “Yeah, just jumped into a truck and drove away.”

      “Did you see the license plate?”

      “No, but I got a good look at the truck. Older Toyota. Four-wheel drive with the tow bar. Gunmetal gray. Seen better days.”

      “Would you recognize the man if you saw him again?”

      “Maybe. Caught my attention, since he seemed in a hurry. Walked outta here pretty fast.”

      “Call the Tucson police. I think he might have tried to kill a patient.”

      The guard hurried to his desk and picked up the phone. Dylan pulled out his cell and dialed Holmquist’s number. The officer answered on the second ring.

      “I’m sorry to say we’re going to be dealing with another agency sooner than either of us wanted. I told hospital security to call the police. I’m going to arrange twenty-four-hour protection for Walker. I think the Serpientes just sent a man to kill her.”

       TWO

      Dylan strode down the hospital hallway and nodded toward the nurses at their station. He was getting to be a familiar face here. Five days, and Joss still swam in pain and memory loss. He’d barely left her side, but there’d been no break in her pain, no flashes of recollection.

      He was starting to worry. Every day the Serpientes grew stronger. Another body had been discovered in the desert, executed. The victim was another known gang member, but why he was executed and how he was connected to the Serpientes remained a mystery.

      The group was so new and close-knit, he had not yet found anyone willing to inform on them. But they were making enemies with the rival gang, and some of those members were beginning to talk. Information had begun to filter in, and Dylan had taken the time to meet with his agents. That meant precious time away from Joss.

      Holmquist stood outside her door, chatting with the guard. The supervisor gestured to the closed portal. “Her doctor’s in there now.”

      “I see.” Dylan nodded. “Any change?”

      Holmquist scuffed a foot in a frustrated gesture and shook his head. “Not a one. She’s asking for you though.”

      Dylan tensed. Everyone had noticed and remarked on Joss’s growing attachment to him. She asked for him continually and seemed agitated when he was gone. “I was the first person she saw when she woke. I’m her only familiar face. That’s all.”

      The captain stepped closer, away from the guard so only Dylan could hear. “Yeah. She trusts you. But I gotta wonder what you’re gonna do when she finds out you think she’s guilty.”

      Dylan met the man’s level stare. “By that time her memory will have returned and it won’t matter what I think. Right now I want her to be as comfortable and relaxed as possible.”

      Holmquist worked his jaw, a habit that showed his frustration. “Right. So you can solve your case. That’s all that matters, right?”

      “That’s all that should matter to you too. The Serpientes are vicious and Joss could be their next victim. That’s more important than how she feels about me.”

      “There’s more than one way to be a victim, Murphy.” His tone was СКАЧАТЬ