Before I Wake (33 page)
Chapter 48
Arden sat on the porch of the Appalachian mountain cabin located in Virginia, only a few hours’ drive from Quantico, where she was once again living. The cabin was a place she and Fury used to stay. A place of comfort. A refuge. It was one of those warm spring days when the sun made you sleepy and the shade made you cold. Arden felt herself drifting off when the sound of muffled voices brought her back around.
She looked up to see Daniel and Franny strolling toward her. Daniel had physically recovered from his ordeal. Thankfully, they’d been able to save his leg. Franny was tucked under his arm, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand. Her jet-black hair had been gelled into a funky style. She wore a long floral skirt with black army boots. The scar across her throat was smooth, red and raised, and you could see the dots where the stitches had been.
They’d auctioned off the farm. That hurt. It always hurt to leave the past behind. It was supposed to hurt. The ground had been sold to a young couple and their parents for less than it should have. People were weird about things like that. Especially farmers whose livelihood was fifty-percent skill and fifty-percent luck. You didn’t want to thumb your nose at things you didn’t understand. You didn’t hang horseshoes upside down, and you didn’t purchase ground that might be cursed.
It was hard enough making a living on normal ground, in good weather. But farmers farmed because they had to, because they didn’t know another way of life and didn’t want to know one.
With the money from the sale, Daniel would be able to go to college. He’d been accepted to George Mason University. Franny was also going back to school. They would be a young, normal college couple. Nobody would know where Daniel had gotten his slight limp, and Franny her scar.
The shadow people were still there.
They would always be there, because death was always waiting in the wings. Reality was just perception, changing from person to person. Not a new concept, but a disturbing one nonetheless.
There were times when Arden’s mind slipped and she imagined that none of this was real, that she was in the float tank, being fed information by Harris. But then she would give herself a mental shake.
They would probably never know why she’d forgotten Fury. Maybe because he’d been there the day of her parents’ murder and had found her in the cupola. Or maybe because she’d been trying to forget all things painful.
Had Harris merely handed her a placebo, telling her the bleaching would make her forget what she wanted to forget? Had her own desire, her own need to shut out what had happened, proved enough to close the door to her memory?
There had been a government inquest. Arden had testified against Harris, and he’d finally admitted that there had been some problems with Project TAKE, and that he’d put Harley in the tank in order to deprogram him.
DNA linked Harley to the murder of Vera Thompson and the Oklahoma case. They never came to a satisfactory conclusion about Noah’s death and how the blood ended up on his clothes. Arden’s theory was that he’d been running the halls when he’d come upon the murder scene. In his newfound state of mental confusion, he’d convinced himself that he’d killed Vera. He couldn’t live with that knowledge, so he’d jumped.
Harris would probably end up with a prison sentence of a few years—hardly more than a slap on the wrist, as far as Arden was concerned.
Her cell phone rang. She’d had it only a week, and still didn’t immediately respond to the ring.
It was the deputy assistant director of the FBI’s National Center for Analysis of Violent Crime.
“Just checking in,” he said.
Meaning, he was checking to see if she was still coming.
“I’ll be there tomorrow,” she assured him.
“Good.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I have an interesting case for you, if you want it. If you’re ready. A triple homicide in Georgia.”
She was returning to work.
She could never make things right, but she could use her knowledge, however tainted and ill gained, to help other people.
They were nervous about having her back. That was understandable.
“If you’d rather start out on something easier,” the assistant director said, “I can arrange it.”
“The Georgia case will be fine.”
She told him good-bye and disconnected.
She sometimes dreamed she was in the tank. And she still got confused. Sometimes she thought she’d killed Eli and her own parents. Then she had to tell herself that no, it was Harley. No, it was just a promising experiment that had gone wrong.
She still felt hope for Project TAKE. In the right hands, with restrictions and careful monitoring. With stronger subjects.
The gentler, weaker personalities had been no match for French. French had overpowered Harley. And he would have eventually overpowered Noah.
“It’s getting late,” Franny said.
They’d all come for the weekend, but now Franny and Daniel were anxious to get back to their apartment in Fairfax, Virginia. Some people might think they’d moved in together too soon, but intense bonds were often forged in the most dire of circumstances. Together, they’d lived years in a matter of hours.
Arden stood up and stepped off the porch.
Her memories of previous visits to the cabin were foggy. She recalled a picnic by a stream, with wine and bread. She remembered making love with Fury outside, then inside, in front of the fire.
But were the memories real? Had the events really happened?
Maybe it didn’t matter. The memories were hers. Maybe that’s what was important.
As someone once told her—you are what you remember.
Behind her, the cabin door opened—and Nathan Fury stepped out. “Forget me again?”
After all this time, he was still recovering from his injuries and four surgeries. But he was alive.
Arden smiled, and then she laughed out loud.
Sometimes hearts stopped beating. Sometimes they started again.
And sometimes a stranger wasn’t really a stranger. Sometimes a stranger was a loved one who’d been bleached from your mind.
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COMPLETE TITLE LIST
Writing as Anne Frasier
Hush, USA Today bestseller, RITA finalist, Daphne du Maurier finalist (2002)
Sleep Tight, USA Today bestseller (2003)
Play Dead, USA Today Bestseller (2004)
Before I Wake (2005)
Pale Immortal (2006)
Garden of Darkness, RITA finalist (2007)
Once Upon a Crime anthology, Santa’s Little Helper (2009)
The Lineup, Poems on Crime, Home (2010)
Discount Noir anthology, Crack House (2010)
Deadly Treats Halloween anthology, editor and contributor, The Replacement (September 2011)
Once Upon a Crime anthology, Red Cadillac (April 2012)
Writing as Theresa Weir
The Forever Man (1988)
Amazon Lily, RITA finalist, Best New Adventure Writer award, Romantic Times (1988)
Loving Jenny (1989)
Pictures of Emily (1990)
Iguana Bay (1990)
Forever (1991)
Last Summer (1992)
One Fine Day (1994)
Long Night Moon, Reviewer’s Choice Award, Romantic Times (1995)
American Dreamer (1997)
Some Kind of Magic (1998)
Cool Shade RITA winner, romantic suspense (1998)
Bad Karma, Daphne du Maurier award, paranormal (1999)
Max Under the Stars, short story (2010)
The Orchard, a memoir (September 2011)