A Season To Believe. Elane Osborn

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СКАЧАТЬ chill slithered through Jane. Kyle Rogers had elicited similar sensations. As she reminded herself of the painful lessons she’d learned in the past year about confusing love with physical attraction, she released her hold on Matt’s neck. As she stepped back, Matt’s arms released her slowly. She found herself standing a foot in front of him, staring mutely into those dark-lashed green eyes of his. Embarrassed heat flooded her cheeks, and she forced herself to speak.

      “It was super of you to come down and help me out of this mess. I really appreciate it.” She paused. “I’m sure you have more important things to be doing. And Mr. Jessup here should no doubt be out looking for real shoplifters, so if he’ll return my purse to me, I believe it’s time I headed home.”

      “Not so quick—”

      Jane had almost forgotten Wilcox. She turned to him as he finished, “I think the three of us have a few things to discuss.”

      Chapter Two

      The security guard told Detective Wilcox to lock the door when they were finished speaking, then left the room. Neither Matt nor Wilcox had moved during all this. They stood on either side of the door, silently glaring at each other.

      “You haven’t done a thing on Jane’s case, have you?” Matt asked the moment the door was shut.

      “There hasn’t been a thing to do,” Wilcox replied. “I told her to call me if she remembered anything. Until today, I haven’t heard a word from her.”

      The man turned to Jane. “You say you became confused downstairs because you suddenly recalled standing on a beach in the middle of May. Is that right?”

      Jane nodded.

      “Well, you could have been remembering a day from this past May, right?”

      Jane was tempted to lie. It would make things far more simple. But the truth mattered more than convenience.

      “No.”

      Wilcox’s square features registered skepticism. “You sound rather certain of that.”

      Jane shrugged. “I didn’t go to the beach this past May.”

      “Okay. What, exactly, did you recall today, standing in front of the scarves?”

      “Just what I told Mr. Jessup. I heard the Christmas music playing, and for one second, I could remember standing on the beach and thinking how warm it was for May. Then I became irritated that a store would play Christmas tunes so early.”

      “Nothing more?”

      Jane shook her head.

      “Well, that’s not enough to relaunch any investigation.”

      That was fine with Jane. She was releasing a slow breath of relief, when Matt spoke up.

      “You have never believed that someone tried to murder her, have you. You still think she tried to kill herself.”

      Wilcox met Matt’s accusation with one of his own. “You and Mendosa never put together a shred of real evidence to convince me otherwise.”

      “Oh, come on. Are you forgetting that the seat belt broke? It would hardly make sense to buckle up if one were intent on suicide. And do you really think Jane would know how to rig a car to explode?”

      “That evidence was inconclusive.”

      “Wilcox, none of the evidence in this case, taken a piece at a time, is conclusive. But when you put together the fact that Forensics found scuff marks indicating that the car had been pushed off the cliff, that the air bag had been disabled, and that the steering wheel revealed only Jane’s fingerprints—not even one belonging to the owner of the car—any cop with two brain cells to rub together could make a case for attempted homicide.”

      Jane tensed as Wilcox took a step toward Matt. Matt was a couple of inches taller, but the police detective’s muscular form carried a silent, credible threat.

      “If someone tried to kill her, why haven’t they made another attempt? Her whereabouts and the fact that she hadn’t died in that accident were well publicized.”

      “Exactly,” Matt replied. “As was the fact that she had no memory and that several of her doctors believed the amnesia might have been caused by the trauma to her head, and thus be permanent. Why risk getting caught while making another attempt to kill her, when the media made it clear that there were no clues to her past, meaning the authorities had no idea who would have a motive to murder her?”

      Wilcox shook his head. “Look, Lone Ranger. I know that you and your partner enjoyed tilting at windmills, solving the impossible cases. Me, I have enough to do pursuing criminals I have half a chance of catching.”

      He turned to Jane. “You should go see that therapist person who was working with you, the one who hypnotizes people. If she manages to help you recall a fact I can follow up on, then call me.”

      With that, Wilcox turned and left the room.

      Jane drew a deep breath, then let it slide quietly through her barely parted lips. She reached for the purse Jessup had placed on the desk, then turned to Matt.

      “Well, I think that was enough excitement for one day. I’d better be getting home.”

      Matt turned to her, effectively blocking the path to the door. “First, we need to talk. I understand there’s a coffee shop in the basement.”

      Jane frowned as she placed her cup next to a small plate that was almost completely covered by an enormous chocolate chip cookie, then lowered herself into the chair Matt had pulled out for her. We need to talk, he’d said. It hadn’t been a request. And what a good girl she was being, responding to the man’s understated demand like a sheep stepping back into formation at the direction of a border collie.

      Not that she didn’t want to talk to Matt. She had a million questions to ask him—over a year’s worth, in fact. But something about the way his eyes had narrowed when he’d uttered those words suggested strongly that he wasn’t going to be the subject of their discussion. Unless, that is, she moved quickly.

      “No one ever told me why you left the force,” she said.

      Matt paused in the act of scooting his chair closer to the table and looked up sharply. His eyes met hers, a dusky shade of sea green, slightly wide with surprise. When he frowned, that color turned murky. Jane felt a tremor in her chest, but held his gaze as she continued.

      “I tried to come see you at the hospital after you were shot,” she said quietly. “But you were in intensive care for a long time, and I was told you weren’t allowed visitors. Then it was time for Zoe and I to—”

      “Leave for Maine,” Matt said. “I know. I was the one who set that up, remember?”

      Remember? How she hated that word.

      “Of course I do. I remember everything that has happened to me since I woke in the hospital. For example, I recall the fact that I never got a chance to thank you for all you did for me. You, and Manny.”

      Her СКАЧАТЬ