Circumstantial Memories. Carol Ericson
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Her brown eyes widened. “I was married to a spy? How did we meet?”
“Where a lot of couples meet, at a party.”
She sawed at her bottom lip, a small crease between her brows. “Did I party a lot?”
Not only did Julia party a lot, she was the life of every party she attended. Her wild behavior and expensive tastes attracted a merry band of revelers willing to follow her anywhere.
“Well?”
Ryder glanced at the woman before him, her hands shoved into a pair of faded jeans, a smudge of dirt on the shoulder of her cheap T-shirt.
“Yeah, you did. Your father had passed away the year before and I think most of your…hijinks…came from grief. Anyway, you and Jeremy hit it off and got married a few months later.”
“Short courtship, no wonder it ended in divorce.” She scuffed the toe of her tennis shoe against the carpet. “Were you at that party?”
“No.” If he had been there, Jeremy never would’ve had a chance with Julia.
“The marriage must’ve gone downhill pretty quickly.”
“I’m sorry, Julia. Jeremy cheated on you, and you found out the hard way.”
She shrugged. “It’s not as if I remember the guy, but it’s not easy to hear that Shelby’s father was a cheat.”
Ryder licked his dry lips. She needed more time. Maybe she’d remember on her own. “Is this ringing any bells?”
“It resounds here.” She clenched her fist and tapped her chest above her heart. “When I started looking for my identity, I had the feeling I didn’t want to find my husband. I wanted to stay lost. Now I know why.”
“Yeah, but we still don’t know why you followed him to Arizona.”
“A package.” Julia gasped and pressed her fingers to her temples.
“What?” Ryder’s head jerked up. “Do you remember something?”
Sinking to the bed, Julia massaged her head. “I just had a flash of memory—a picture of a small flat package wrapped in white paper and tied with twine.”
“Have you ever had a flash of memory like this before?” Ryder settled on the bed next to her, running a hand down her stiff back.
“Only once, but it was a word that came to me, not a picture.”
“What was the word?”
“A name—Shelby.”
The air whistled through Ryder’s teeth. Julia remembered his grandmother’s name and chose it for her daughter…his daughter.
“Ryder.” She placed her hand on his thigh. “Why would I name my daughter after your grandmother? Why did I come here to Silverhill?”
Ryder debated just what to tell her, how honest he should be. He didn’t think she was ready to hear the whole truth. “We talked a lot, Julia.” He plucked her hand from his leg, turned it over, and traced a fingertip along the lines on her palm. “I told you about Silverhill, about my family’s ranch and my grandmother who worked alongside my grandfather to build the ranch. Her strength and determination fascinated you.”
“Because I had a life filled with frivolous parties and superficial relationships?”
“Maybe.” He rubbed his thumb in the center of her hand. “But you weren’t superficial. You were strong…are strong, and I think you wanted something more from your life.”
“Do you think I decided to find it in Silverhill?” She folded her fingers over his thumb, capturing it against the warmth of her hand.
“I think you delivered that package to Jeremy, and something happened in Arizona, something that landed you in a stolen car with mounds of cash. You fled to Silverhill to seek the protection of my family, the family you’d heard so much about.”
She shook her head and her silky brown hair slid over her shoulder. “But what? What could’ve happened?”
Ryder pushed up from the bed and paced in front of the window. Did he want these memories to come back for her? Would they put her in danger?
“You know.” Julia jumped from the bed and blocked his path, hands planted on her hips. “Tell me. How did Jeremy die and where?”
Ryder blew out a breath and squared his shoulders. “Jeremy was murdered over three years ago…in Arizona.”
Chapter Four
A dull pain thudded against her temples and she dropped to the edge of the bed. “Three years ago in Arizona?”
“I heard about it a month after it happened.” Joining her on the bed, Ryder rested an arm across her shoulders. “That’s when I called you in Paris and discovered you’d left for the States.”
“Arizona.” She gripped the bedspread with stiff fingers. She must’ve seen Jeremy before he was murdered or maybe she witnessed the murder, or…“Do you think I…?”
“Had anything to do with the murder?” He stroked her hair, and his hands seemed to draw the tension out of her body. “Absolutely not. You’re no expert in explosives.”
“Explosives?” She jerked her head up. “Jeremy died in a bomb blast?”
“Someone planted plastiques around his house in Arizona and detonated them while Jeremy was inside. They identified his remains, or at least some jewelry he wore. The fire from the bomb blast incinerated his body.”
“Do you think that’s what I was running from? Do you think I was there when the house exploded and Jeremy died?”
“Maybe.” Ryder plucked up one of her hands, nervously bunching the bedspread, and chafed it between his two palms. “Julia, Jeremy was no longer working for the agency when he was killed. He was under investigation for espionage, selling State secrets.”
She swallowed and the pain in her head came roaring back. Her past got crazier and crazier each time Ryder revealed a piece of information. “Did the agency kill him?”
“Black Cobra works outside the boundaries of government oversight, but not that far outside. If we gathered enough evidence, we would’ve arrested him and charged him with treason.”
“Black Cobra? Is that the name of your agency?”
Squeezing her hand, he nodded. “Not even my family knows that, but you knew the name before. You deserve to know it now.”
Black Cobra. Drawing her brows together, she grabbed Ryder’s forearm and turned it around to inspect the inside, running her fingertip from his elbow to his wrist.
Ryder sucked