it had started or progressed, but there was still an element of surprise. It paid not to get too bogged down in patterns, since that’s when you could miss the most important things.
Maybe it was the same way in relationships? What had he missed that he and Erin had gone so terribly wrong?
He pushed romantic musings from his mind. Though he’d been over the site several times now, some things had changed due to weather exposure and other people invading the area, and he tried to see it all with fresh eyes.
What might he have missed?
Erin started moving faster through the charred walkway, as if she were moving toward something. As if she were drawn in a certain direction. Bo followed, fascinated.
She stopped at a spot in the far corner, looking up.
“Something happened up there?”
She turned and looked at him, her face strained—parts fear, anxiety and pressure.
Bo followed her gaze.
“That was the general quadrant of the building that you and Joe were sent in to check out. They thought there could be toxic chemicals stored there. But you were both found in a completely different area of the building, which is one of the things we can’t account for.”
Her expression was pained as she stared, trying to remember so hard, and Bo almost couldn’t take the agony on her face.
“I can feel something...like, panic,” she said, and he stepped closer as her breathing quickened. “But nothing else.”
He noticed her hand was shaking as she lifted it to her face.
“This is enough, I think. Let’s get out of here.”
“No, I’m okay. I’m just so frustrated. Show me the spot where we fell.”
Bo shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Erin stared through the rafters at the same spot on the second level for several more long seconds, and then, before he could stop her, she took off for the stairs that went up to that floor. Outside the safety zone.
“Erin!” he shouted, but she was fast and halfway up the steps by the time he followed.
“I’m okay.”
“It’s not safe. Those supports are burned. Come back down slowly.”
She looked at him over the rail. “They’re knocking this down tomorrow. I need to see.”
She continued her progress up the stairs, which seemed to be holding, so Bo muttered a curse under his breath and followed.
Erin was never reckless before, which made her one of the best. She knew that being reckless was what could cost people their lives, and Bo hoped that wasn’t the case now.
She was also about sixty-five pounds lighter than he was, and when he stood on the second step, it gave an ominous creak.
She’d ambled up fine, but he could take the whole thing down in seconds, and then she’d be trapped.
Cursing more vehemently, he backed off.
She was up there for a few minutes, quiet, and he started to worry even more.
“Erin? What’s going on?” he shouted up the steps, wishing he’d never brought her here.
She came to the edge, peered down at him through jagged, burned-out boards.
“We ran,” she said, her complexion as ashen as the walls around her. Then she looked over his head, back toward the east side of the building. “Joe took off and ran that way.”
Chills worked down Bo’s spine as she pointed in the direction of the spot where she was nearly killed. He balanced the excitement at her memory with concern for her current safety.
“Okay, good—that’s good. Now, come down very slowly, carefully, and show me where.”
She looked like a ghost, but she made it back down the rickety steps safely.
Bo grabbed her and hugged her tight to him, relieved, and then held her at arm’s length, staring hard into her face.
“Don’t ever do that again. You could’ve been hurt or killed. Stay on the damned safety path from here on, or I swear, I’ll arrest you and put you in jail for the night.”
He wouldn’t really—or maybe he would.
He’d replayed the scene of her falling through those stairs about a dozen times while she was up there, and if she couldn’t be safe, he was taking her out of here, memory or no memory.
He’d almost lost her once, and he wasn’t going to risk it again.
“You’re right. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that, but I had to get up there. Something made us run. I don’t know why, but we took off in this direction.”
“Running away from someone?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
There had been nothing on the second floor that Bo knew of, and it was easy to think you saw something in the room full of smoke and flames. But if she could remember this much, there had to be more there.
Bo slipped his arm around Erin’s shoulders as much for support as to make sure she didn’t bolt on him again.
“Okay, show me where.”
She zeroed in on the exact spot where they had found Joe dead and Erin pinned under a beam.
“What else?” he prompted.
She stared at the spot for a while and then sniffled. When she glanced over at him, fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
Bo was stunned. He had never once seen Erin cry. Ever.
“Nothing. There’s nothing else. We came here, but that’s all I know. Why can’t I remember this? Why can I remember other things but not this?”
Sobs took over, shaking her body, and Bo wrapped his arm around her again, walking her out of the warehouse and back into the light and fresh air. Outside, her tears subsided after a few minutes, and he let her lean on him until they did. Another first.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding miserable.
Bo looked down into her face, wishing he could make every bit of pain he saw there go away.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“We don’t know that, do we? I remember running and Joe following me, but I don’t know why. I led him to his death. It was my fault. Maybe his family is right to blame me.”
“No.” Bo said the word with absolute conviction. “First, you don’t remember enough to know what happened, let alone take responsibility for it. Second, you and Joe were both experienced
