Fatal Flashback

Business. This was all about business. Part of his job was helping anyone in distress, and just because that someone was living in Panther Junction, and he had to train her, was no reason to keep thinking about her. Beyond having to check on her every hour, of course—doctor’s orders.

In fact, their work relationship was an excellent reason not to think about her, whatever Ed Chambers might say to the contrary. Seven years out here had taught him a number of painful lessons and one of them was never to fall for a fellow ranger. Because sooner or later they all left when they got the chance.

He could almost hear Erin’s voice ringing in his head, as if she were still standing there arguing with him, even after all these years. She had been so beautiful, with her blond hair and green eyes a few shades lighter than his own. A perfect match, his family had said.

But she had hated living in Big Bend. Eight hundred thousand acres of desert, mountains and river—some of the most beautiful, remote country in the lower 48—and she had hated it. The place he never wanted to leave, because it had gotten into his blood, into his very soul.

He’d been ready to propose, sure that Erin was the one and convinced she would stay here for his sake—no, for their sake, at least until they could talk about asking for a reassignment. But love wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

She had left, without ever looking back.

That was five years ago and no woman had caught his attention since. Probably a self-defense mechanism. Apparently it had decided to fail today. That was both unfortunate and unacceptable, because something about Ashley—maybe it was the suit, or her pale skin, or the fact she had no idea why she was here—screamed, I don’t belong in the desert.

Keeping her alive until she could be reassigned was going to be enough trouble. He didn’t need to add personal feelings. And the last thing he wanted, after the long years waiting for God to heal his broken heart after Erin, was to risk anything like it again. No, the newest ranger would be his trainee and his colleague, and nothing more.

He returned dutifully to her house an hour later, glad to find her condition appeared stable. Pupils weren’t abnormally dilated, responses all coherent. Four repeat visits over the course of the night showed similar promise of no regression. She greeted him with a groggy smile each time before stumbling back to the sofa where she’d decided to crash for the night. By 7:00 a.m. he advised her to go to sleep in her bed. He’d come back and check on her later in the day, after getting some work done in the office.

He nearly collided with someone on his way into headquarters. Will Sykes, one of the newer rangers, who had started just prior to Sam Thompson. “Will, a little distracted this morning?”

“What?” The dark-haired younger man glanced up, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. He was probably heading out to one of the campgrounds on patrol. “Oh, sorry. I guess so.”

Logan moved aside to let him out the door, but Will stopped, lowering his voice enough that Sandy Barnes at her receptionist desk wouldn’t overhear. “Hey, I heard you pulled somebody out of the Rio Grande last night. What happened?”

Word certainly got around fast in this park. “Actually, I found her on the riverbank. We’re not sure how it happened.”

“Good thing you showed up.” His Adam’s apple bobbed and he tapped his thumb against his clipboard. “Was she all right?”

“Bit of memory loss, but she’ll be okay. You’ll meet her soon—turns out she’s the newest ranger.” Logan glanced at his watch. Only fifteen minutes until his first meeting of the day. “Listen, Sykes, I—”

The clipboard clattered to the ground and Will stooped to retrieve it.

“—need to get going.”

“Of course.” Will’s face had gone uncharacteristically pale.

Must be thinking about Sam, too. They’d been friends and Sam’s death had affected Will almost as much as Logan. Ashley was their first new law-enforcement ranger since the accident. It wasn’t a surprise Will would be shaken up.

Logan squeezed the younger man’s shoulder, trying to mimic Ed’s natural gift of encouragement. “Nobody can replace him, but it’ll be good to have someone new on the team.”

“Yeah.” Will left through the front door, waving on his way out.

A file for Ashley Watson lay on Logan’s desk, as Ed had promised. It didn’t contain anything exceptional. Twenty-seven years old, hometown of New Haven, Connecticut—that might explain why picturing her in the desert seemed like such a stretch. She had passed NPS training school with flying colors. Before going into law enforcement, she had worked for the Department of the Interior in Washington, DC—a desk job—but maybe those connections had got her the position out here.

Nothing to explain why she’d been down at the canyon yesterday, in a suit, with a gun. A gun she handled so well it looked like years of instinct, he might add—not just six months of park service training.

No word had come back on the truck, either. Whoever had attacked them had managed to vanish into the desert. Barclay had looked concerned but could only tell him to file a report. What else could they do? Nobody could explain how the newest ranger had become a target in a park where violent attacks by anything other than mountain lions were almost unheard of.

Maybe Logan would have to make his afternoon visit to her a bit longer, see if he could ask any questions that might jog her memory. Purely for the sake of investigation, of course.

By the time Ashley woke up, the sun was shooting fiery streaks onto her covers as it seared in through the cracks in the blinds. Thank You, God, for air-conditioning. Wait—she wasn’t speaking to God.

Why was that, exactly? The only answer was that same feeling of oppressive loss she’d experienced last night. But her head didn’t hurt and—

She sat up, her mind racing. She remembered.

Her parents—Ned and Rita. Her brother’s name was Sam. Fumbling for her wallet, she dug out the picture again. Warmth flooded her chest as the memories filled her mind.

Sam and her at a theme park as kids—he’d been nearly two heads shorter than Ashley back then... Snowball fights—they’d grown up in Connecticut. Sandcastles at the beach... Sibling squabbles...

She grinned. Such good times.

But her heart twinged as she looked at his picture. Something had happened. But what? Sam was still in school, wasn’t he? Or maybe he’d graduated before she’d moved to Washington.

When she’d gotten her dream job.

Ah, the irony of it all. She clapped a hand over her mouth, nearly giggling.

The call had come in the middle of dinner with her parents.

Congratulations, you’ve passed the background check. Your basic field training course starts in three weeks. Welcome to Quantico.

That was why she had the gun. She was an FBI special agent.

And she’d managed to finagle an assignment to the coveted Washington field office. Years of work and effort finally paying off.

Yet none of it explained why she was here. And did the fake name mean it was an undercover assignment? Had she ever even gone undercover before?

Maybe her luggage held more clues.

She found a pair of yoga pants and a cotton T-shirt in one of her bags. After dressing, she pulled her long hair into a loose ponytail. She’d been so exhausted last night, what with all the wake-up calls, that she’d stumbled through a quick shower and fallen asleep on the couch without much thought. But now, looking in the mirror, she traced the lines of her face in the glass.

It was the face she had seen for a lifetime, familiar and yet not. Older. Because Ashley knew there was still a gaping blank spot—more like a chasm—behind that face. Places in her mind where the memories were gone, or maybe squished by swelling. Everything past the age of about twenty-six was blurry, faded into nothingness as she tried to recall anything more recent. But going by her birth date on the driver’s license, she was twenty-seven.

That meant more than a year of her life was incomplete or missing.

After returning her wallet to the handbag, she walked out to the living room to dig through the luggage. The suitcase was full of clothing and toiletries—each item new, yet familiar, like muscle memory recalled the feel of each thing but her eyes were seeing them for the first time.

The other bag, a small satchel, was far more interesting. It held a laptop, a cell phone and an item that at first glance appeared to be a man’s leather wallet. Upon flipping it open, it turned out to be her badge.

Special Agent Ashley Thompson, Federal Bureau of Investigation.

That was what she had tried to pull out of her pocket to show Logan yesterday as her proof for the gun.

But she had left the badge in her luggage.

Only one reason an agent wouldn’t carry her badge. She must be working undercover. As a park ranger? Why here, in Big Bend?

Did any of them know she was an agent? Not Logan, obviously.

The laptop might tell her...

After three failed attempts at the password, the computer locked her out for the next hour. So much for that idea.

Plugging in the cell phone to recharge, she rummaged in the kitchen for anything edible. She found an apple and a bagel. Making a mental note to thank the receptionist, she scrolled through the contacts in the phone. Her finger hovered over her mom’s cell phone number. One push and Ashley would hear a familiar voice.

No. She closed the contacts file. Calling anyone would be a great way to blow her cover. Plus, she had no reception out here anyway.

Instead she opened the phone’s gallery. She scrolled through one image after another, watching a blur of faces fly past until one caught her eye. Sam, standing beside her, his arm slung around her shoulders.

The picture was time-stamped from last fall—just over a year ago. His wide grin made her want to smile but... Ashley furrowed her brows. Why did seeing him make her stomach twist?

She set the phone down and carried the cold, uneaten bagel to the kitchen before tackling the large suitcase. No point in dwelling on what she couldn’t remember. Better to focus on what she did know—that she was a federal agent and she was in west Texas for a reason.

A reason that might have something to do with what had happened to her last night.

Wheeling the suitcase into her bedroom, Ashley slowly unpacked all the neatly folded clothing. Beneath the clothes, shoes and toiletries, she found a layer of books. A Bible, a couple of novels and a guide to desert animals and vegetation.

She thumbed through each one, placing them, in turn, on top of the dresser. When she got to the guidebook, as she flipped through pages of snakes and spiders and scorpions, a piece of paper fluttered out onto the floor.

She picked it up, noting the darkened, worn edges—as if someone had held it with dirty hands—and opened it carefully to reveal a full page of hand-drawn markings and tiny words.

A map. It was a map! A long, twisting river ran along the lower section with labeled towns on both sides. Strings of upside-down V’s looked like mountain ranges and they were labeled, too. She almost needed a magnifying glass to read the letters. Or a lamp might help. She glanced up, suddenly noticing how dark it was—she’d been so absorbed with unpacking she hadn’t looked at a clock in hours.

It must be getting late. Logan would be here soon to check on her.

She took the map into the living room, pausing to feel for a light switch, but in the momentary silence she heard a sound that made her blood run cold. A low scraping noise coming from the bedroom window, like someone was running a chisel between the casement and the wood frame. And it was far too rhythmic to be an animal or the wind.

Someone was trying to break into her house.

FOUR

Ashley’s breath echoed loudly in her ears, her heart hammering, as she hastily folded up the map and tucked it inside the waistband of her pants. The sound persisted—scratch, scratch, scratch—and she tried to slow her breathing as she glanced around the room for a weapon.

She wanted her gun, but Logan had given it to the superintendent and he wouldn’t return it until she was ready for duty. There—in the kitchen—the knife block. She crept through the dark living room and around the peninsula into the kitchen, pulling out one of the long knives at the top of the block.

The casement was moving now. The intruder struggled with the window, trying to pull it up as quietly as possible. With all the lights off, the trespasser probably thought she wasn’t home. Her eyes darted to the front door. If she slipped outside now, whoever it was might never know she’d been in here.

But what if someone was waiting out there, too? Whoever had hit her in the head? And if the person at the window was working alone, she didn’t want to miss her chance to identify the intruder.

Taking one slow, deliberate breath after another, she crept to the doorway leading into the bedroom. She pressed her back against the living room wall and stole a glance around the doorjamb into the room. It was too dark to see who was outside the window, but gloved fingers worked underneath the inch-wide crack. If she had to pick, she’d guess they belonged to a man.

Her heart lurched. Breathe. FBI agents don’t panic. They could wish for backup though, couldn’t they?

Ashley’s palms went slick with sweat. She tightened her grip on the knife handle as the window moved up another inch. She couldn’t let him get all the way into the room or he might overpower her. But she wanted to see his face before she made a move.

Waiting was agony. Another inch and two hands appeared under the casement, now pushing together.

Almost time.

Somebody banged on the front door and Ashley was so startled she let out a cry. The hands disappeared from the window. That low, gritty brushing noise had to be retreating footsteps across the desert sand.

“Ashley?” Logan called, knocking again.

She dashed across the living room, throwing the door open. “Quick, around back. He’s getting away.”

Logan stared, his head cocked to one side. “What?”

She dropped the knife to the floor with a clatter and shoved past him, forgetting about her bare feet until she was already running around the back of the house. Even though the intruder might be long gone already, maybe she could still catch a glimpse of him. Anything that might give her a clue as to his identity.

“Where are you going?” he called, running after her. “You’re supposed to be resting!”

Breathless, she stopped at the back corner of the building. Nobody. Nothing but an endless stretch of dirt, rocks and cactuses rolling toward the dark mass of the Chisos Mountains, barely visible against the sea of stars above.

He stopped next to her. “What’s going on?”

Without a flashlight, it was pointless trying to run after the intruder. “A man was trying to break into my room, but you scared him off when you knocked.”

“Are you all right?” Logan’s resonant voice was full of concern.

“Yes, but I didn’t get a description.”

“Here.” He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and flipped it on. “We can at least check for prints.”

Of course he had a flashlight. Hers was sitting uselessly inside on the nightstand. Irritation sizzled through her veins but she forced herself to smile. “Glad you have a light.”

“It’s not very smart to wander around out here unprepared.” The beam of light traveled across her feet, blindingly white against her black pants. “Or barefoot, for that matter. Don’t you ever wear shoes?”

“It’s not like I had time to lace up a pair of boots. And the river claimed the last pair. Let’s look for footprints.”

Logan held up his hand as she stepped toward the window. “No, you stay right there. You’ll end up with your feet full of cactus spines, if they aren’t already. Or worse, a rattlesnake bite.”

Ashley opened her mouth to retort but then closed it, because now that he mentioned it, one of her feet did sting rather badly. But she wasn’t about to tell him, so she watched silently as he waved the beam of light across the ground near the back of her house.

“Do you see anything?” she asked after a minute.

“Some crushed vegetation, but the dirt is bare and hard here. The window has been raised about two inches, though. We can dust for prints.”

“He was wearing gloves.”

“How do you know it was a man?” The beam of the flashlight obscured Logan’s face.

“A hunch. The hands looked too large for a woman.”

“Well, let’s get you back inside.” He shone the light on her feet again. “Can you walk?”

Ashley glared at him, even though he couldn’t see her expression. “Of course. How do you think I got out here?”

“Oh, I saw it all. Just trying to be thoughtful.”

“Well, you could at least light the path back for me.”

He held out the light and Ashley picked her way carefully around to the front. Now that her body wasn’t full of adrenaline anymore, her gaze snagged on the low-lying spiny plants and rocks. It was a wonder she hadn’t tripped on them before. “Do you think there are rattlesnakes under any of those rocks?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“Nah, not now. They come out at night to hunt, so they’re more likely to be lying out in the open.”

“You’re just trying to scare me,” she said hopefully.

“No, I’m not. But don’t worry about the snakes. You’re much more likely to step on a tarantula or a scorpion.”

All those creepy pictures she had seen in the guidebook flooded into her mind. “I am?” She stopped, pulling up onto her tiptoes, as if that would help keep the spiders away.

“Sure. In fact, I think I see one right...there.” He aimed the flashlight a little off to the left, and there, scuttling out from under a bush, was the largest, hairiest black spider she had ever seen.

Every muscle froze. Except her heart, which escaped into her throat along with a tiny scream. She’d rather face down a man breaking into her house any day. The tarantula crossed out of the beam of light, scuttling straight toward them. Whether out of self-preservation or sheer terror, Ashley flung her arm around Logan’s neck and jumped.

He laughed, a rich, rolling sound, and easily caught her legs under the knees, until he was holding her against his chest. “You could’ve asked me to carry you.”

“I...I,” she stammered, her cheeks burning. “I hate spiders.”

“Why exactly did you come to Big Bend, then?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?”

The scent of pine trees and flannel emanated from his shirt, making her want to burrow into his arms for safety. She swallowed. What was wrong with her?

“I take it you haven’t gotten back more of your memories yet?” Logan carried her around to the front of the house.

Why, yes, she had.

But until she learned why she was here and whom to trust, she had to keep things to herself. It would also help to know what her file here contained—surely the Bureau had invented some history for Ashley Watson. Whatever she told Logan had to match.

“Not really. Just some vague impressions. Maybe when I remember my laptop password, I’ll figure out more.” She hated lying to him, especially since he was the closest thing to a friend she had in the world right now.

They reached the front porch and the idea of letting the handsome ranger carry her across the threshold was more than she could take. She pushed against his chest and he released her gently onto her feet. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime. But—” he pointed down at her feet “—I don’t want to see those bare feet again.”

“Yes, Ranger Everett.” She gave him a mock salute.

Logan stopped in the doorway, grinning at Ashley as she flipped on a light, picked up the knife she had dropped, and walked back into her house. She had a lot of nerve—he had to give her that. But he hated to think what might’ve happened if he hadn’t come to her house when he had.

“What, exactly, were you going to do with that knife?” he asked casually.

She scowled. “Someone was breaking into my house, and you took away my gun. I needed some way to defend myself.”

“You could’ve called for help.”

“Like opened up the door and yelled?”

He shrugged. “It probably would’ve been enough.”

“Probably?” Ashley dropped the knife into the kitchen sink and then walked—no, more like hobbled—into the living room. She must have stepped on something, after all.

“You can come in.” She plopped onto her sofa and waved him into the living room. “Unless you think we’ll be giving our neighbors the wrong impression.”

He pulled away from the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. “No, someone tried to break in tonight. I think that warrants my being in here for now.” He sat on a chair next to the sofa. “Do you have any idea what they wanted?”

Ashley’s eyebrows pulled together for a moment but then she shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

She was keeping something from him, no question. Was it something she’d found today? Or remembered? And how to get it out of her? He ran a hand across his chin.

“It bothers me to think about you staying here alone,” he said finally. “Maybe we should see about getting you into an apartment or staying with one of the families for tonight.”

“No, I want to stay here. If he’s stupid enough to come back, I want to see who it is.”

He hadn’t expected anything else. So much for worrying about giving the neighbors the wrong impression. Logan wasn’t going to let her stay here alone. “Then I’m going to sleep on your sofa.”

She leveled her dark brown eyes at him, as if weighing whether it was worth a battle. “Fine,” she relented. “Suit yourself. But only for tonight, until I get my gun back.”

“Agreed, on one condition.”

“What?”

He pointed to her feet. “You let me check those for cactus spines.”

Ashley frowned, pulling one foot up onto the opposite knee and leaning over to examine it. “I can do it myself.”

Logan ran his hands through his hair. This woman was going to be a whole lot of trouble. “Is there a reason you can’t accept my help?”

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could swear a pink tinge crept into those pale cheeks.

“You don’t have to keep rescuing me.” She stared at her foot. “I can pull my own weight.”

“Ah.” He waited until she looked up again. “You’re afraid I’ll think less of you.”

She didn’t say anything, but her cheeks turned a shade darker and she averted her eyes. She seemed so down-to-earth, so natural, sitting there with no makeup and her hair loosely pulled back. Unaware of how pretty she was.

“Ashley, I don’t know why you’re here, or how qualified or experienced you are, but I do know this—accepting help in a place like this is not a sign of weakness. The rangers here work as a team and we support each other. You and I are going to be spending a lot of time together, so you’d better get used to the idea.”

She picked at her foot in silence for another minute before giving him a hesitant smile. “All right. I guess a pair of tweezers would help.”

By the time she had retreated to her bedroom and Logan lay on the couch staring up at the dark ceiling, he could scarcely believe two hours had flown past. No more signs of the intruder, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone.

Some mystery surrounded Ashley, lurking beneath the surface. Her file hadn’t revealed anything insightful. But why would they assign her to Big Bend with no apparent experience in a similar environment? No ranger experience at all, in fact. Something wasn’t adding up.