Fractured Memory (13 page)

“His ventilator malfunctioned. It was a new type the hospital was trialing. The machine delivered successive breaths without allowing the air to come out and it blew out both his lungs. He never recovered.”

“The other incident?”

“A medication error. A patient received a fatal dose of potassium.”

“How did that happen?”

“A nurse placed an incorrect weight in a patient’s chart. She accidentally entered it in pounds instead of kilograms, making the child significantly heavier. When the doctor placed the potassium order, the pharmaceutical safety systems that catch potential medication errors didn’t trigger because the dose was correct for the inputted weight, but toxic for that child.”

“What was the staff feeling?”

“Horrified. Uneasy. We were all feeling scrutinized. The administration was on the unit all the time. Lawyers became involved in each of these cases. I cared for the boy who died as a result of the ventilator malfunction during the shift when he succumbed to the complications of that event and I knew I was going to face a deposition in the case—at some point.”

“Whether or not you felt responsible for this boy’s death is not the reason you’re here today—we’ll set it aside for now, but I want you know that I think it’s a worthy avenue to explore.”

The pressure within Julia’s chest rose. Even if she wasn’t directly responsible for the boy’s death, she had been his nurse, and nursing was all about advocating for patients. Nursing wasn’t about being doctors’ handmaids and blindly carrying out their orders. Part of her job was educating families about the doctor’s medical plan and helping families weigh the choices presented by the doctor, then circling back to the physician with any concerns the family had.

“What were the deaths that happened just prior to your attack?”

“One was related to child abuse and the other a child with a malformed heart.”

“Expected but tough.”

“Always.”

“Before we get into what happened on the day of your attack, Eli explained to me that you have amnesia related to your brain being deprived of oxygen as a result of the hanging.”

Julia pulled her knees into her chest. “That’s right.”

“To me, it explains the period of amnesia after the injury—when you were so sick in the hospital and into some of your rehab time. But your mind was fully functional when this person came into your house, correct?”

“That’s true, but—”

Kathleen continued. “I know the brain is the organ we understand the least and amnesia is even trickier, but what I will say is that I believe you have a full recording in your mind as to what happened during this event and there may be several factors as to why you’ve closed it off, but
it’s there
.”

Julia tried to swallow over the lump in her throat. All the bravado in the world could melt away when someone was confronted with what they had promised to do—no matter how sincere they were at the time.

“Let’s start with what you remember about that day.”

“I just got up and was getting ready to work my third day shift in a row. It was around five o’clock.”

“Did you have a routine that you followed before work?”

“I would usually do some devotion time and then get in the shower.”

“Is that what happened on this day?”

Julia closed her eyes. She’d just come downstairs, dressed in her scrubs, about to put her shoes on... “I got a phone call.”

“From who?”

“A neighbor. Harriet Wilson. She’s an elderly woman who lived next door to me.”

How could Julia have forgotten this?

“What did she want?”

“Eggs.”

Kathleen scratched a few notes on her pad. What could be so important about eggs? “Was it unusual for Harriet to call you?”

Julia smoothed her hands over her face. “She had some health issues. I was helping her—keeping tabs on her. I’d shovel her walk when it snowed. Make sure she was okay when it got too hot. That sort of thing.”

“So she’d call you on occasion with these sorts of requests.”

Julia reached back in her memory to her interactions with Harriet. Most often they discussed Harriet’s medical problems. An issue every nurse faced was people offering too much personal information about themselves. Harriet didn’t have any close relatives. Her siblings were dead, and she never married.

Harriet wasn’t a woman to bake or cook...ever.

“My neighbor never asked me for ingredients before. I’m not sure she could cook. Plus, it was early in the morning and she was a late riser.”

“Did Harriet request anything else?”

“She said she’d walk over and get them.”

Another odd statement. Julia’s eyes searched Eli’s—it was as if he was keeping them directed away from her, trying to diminish his presence.

“Harriet had dysfunctional mobility. She could walk with assistance but rarely ventured from her house. Her church was delivering meals, and every so often, I’d run by to see if she needed any food. I always bought things that were easy to put together. Cereal. Sandwich makings. Microwave dinners. Definitely not the healthiest, but I knew she wouldn’t starve.”

“What happened after the phone call?”

“Someone knocked on my door.”

Kathleen looked at Eli, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Was his being present too much for him? Or was he feeling what she now knew—that the person at the door wasn’t her neighbor? That it had all been a ruse?

“You said
someone
, but you were expecting Harriet. Why do you think you said that?”

Julia folded her hands together, bending her fingers back to help ease the ache that spread from her neck all the way down her arms. She couldn’t differentiate if the increasing pain was soreness from the car accident or physical distress at confronting this emotional trauma. “I was surprised.”

“At what?”

“That she could make it to my door so quickly.”

“Were you feeling anything else?”

Julia saw herself walking to her front door. The impatient, successive knocks. Relentless pounding. “I’m scared.”

“Why?” Kathleen asked.

Julia became light-headed. The sound of blood rushing in her ears like a tornado she couldn’t stop.

Just breathe. You can do this. You have to do this.

“Can you feel your feet on the floor?” Kathleen asked.

Julia pressed her feet into the carpet.

Stay here. Stay in this moment. He can’t hurt you.

She wanted to look at Eli but couldn’t let herself fall into that emotional well of confusion.

Lord, You are the only one right now who can help me do this. Help me remember. Help me stop this person so I can have my life back.

Kathleen’s voice. “This is a safe place, Julia. Nothing bad is going to happen to you here.”

Julia exhaled slowly. “I’m thinking it’s not Harriet at the door.”

“What else?”

“I’m calling out Harriet’s name, and she’s not answering me. But this person
will not
stop knocking on my door.”

The pounding in Julia’s temples matched that sound—the echo like a cannon firing. She pressed her fingers to her forehead to counteract the pain.

“Breathe with me, Julia. In through your nose like you’re smelling flowers and then exhaling through your mouth like you’re blowing out candles.”

Julia hadn’t realized how quick her breathing was, but she felt the tingle setting into her hands from hyperventilating. She closed her eyes and did as Kathleen instructed. “I go to the door. I’m thinking maybe something happened to Harriet and someone else is trying to get help for her, but...”

“What are you physically feeling?”

Julia pressed her hand against her chest.
You have to stay in this moment. You have to open this door. You have to see who it is that almost killed you.
“My heart is racing. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“What happens next?”

“I grab the key and put it in the lock, turn it and put my hand on the doorknob.”

“And?”

“A man shoves his way into my house. I’m so close to the door that it knocks me over.”

Julia’s eyes popped open, flitting around the room until locking with Eli’s.

“You’re okay, Julia. I’m here,” Eli said. “I’m not leaving you.”

His reassurance gave her strength in unexpected ways.
There’s nothing I can’t do as long as he’s with me. What happens when this time is over and he has to move on? Can I bear it?

“I try to crawl away, but this man is grabbing at my legs and pulling me toward him. I break free once and try to stand, but my socked feet slip on the hardwood floor—”

And then, just as quickly as Julia felt strength, it leached from her like sand through water. Pain flared in her chest like a lit piece of dynamite. Her breath came in short staggered gasps. She grabbed her knees and lowered her head, trying to convince her body what her mind knew, and she began to rock.

Your heart is not dying. This is just a panic attack. You can...no you will overcome it. You have to get control back. Lord, give my mind peace—let me see his face.

Eli stood from his chair and faced Kathleen. “She’s been through enough. You have to stop. It’s too much.”

Through the noisy rush of static in her ears, Julia could hear Kathleen’s voice, quite a bit lower than Eli’s, pulling her from the throes of fear her body has trapped her in.

“Julia, slow your breathing down. This is not happening now. Just freeze the picture in your mind and slow down what’s happening. What does the man do next?”

Julia clenched her teeth and slowed the scene down—advancing it frame by frame.

In between strobe-like flashes she got glimpses of her attacker’s features. Striking green eyes. Long, dark hair tied back in a ponytail. Never one clear look at his face. He made one final grab for both her legs and yanked her backward. Her fingers clawed into the floor—and then he planted both knees in the middle of her back. She tried to twist her body to throw him off, but he inched higher—her arms unable to reach and grab any part of him.

Then a rag was smashed to her face—a sickingly sweet smell. Julia slithered her hands underneath her and in one last attempt to save her life—she pushed up and threw him to the right, into the wooden spindles of her staircase, but then blackness tunneled her vision.

“That’s the last I remember.”

Julia placed her elbows on her knees and smoothed her hands over her face to coax her heart into beating at a slower rate. Eli stood from his chair and neared her, placing his hand on her back and rubbing her tense muscles.

His touch was exactly what she needed. The faint sound of a phone vibrating pulled his spare hand to the inner pocket of his suit jacket for his phone.

“What is it?” Julia asked.

“They found him—Ryder Dymond. He’s in police custody.”

FOURTEEN

A
fter the interview, Eli knew exactly the next step he needed to take, but he also knew Julia needed a break. He had taken her out for some distraction to the only place where he could unwind after a long day—an ice cream parlor. Giving her space to decompress after her forensic exam was just as important as letting her in on his game plan.

Julia sat before him, more playing than eating her mint chocolate chip with a hefty dose of fudge smearing the top. In her eyes, he could see the blackness that consumed her during her retelling of her attack still lingering. She settled her hand on the table, and he clasped his hand over hers, caressing the back of her hand with this fingertips.

“What are you thinking?” Eli asked.

Julia sniffed hard, pulling her hand away and grabbing her napkin to wipe her nose. “Just what a miserable failure I am. My big plan to help break this case wide-open didn’t do you any good. I never got a good look at his face. Or if I did it’s frozen and my mind won’t let me remember it.”

Eli pushed her ice cream bowl to the side and grabbed her hand, pressing it between his own. “That’s not true. You don’t know how valuable the information is that you shared.”

“How can you say that?”

“I want to propose a plan to you. I’ll need your help, but I think it will help us find out who this man is.”

Julia looked skyward, her eyes closed. “Eli—”

He wanted to press her fingers against his lips, kissing them once with all the tenderness he felt in his heart. Could one kiss portray all that he felt toward her? He resigned himself to the fact that he was emotionally over the cliff for Julia, but if he could keep those feelings from spilling over into a physical expression, then maybe he could keep it hidden from her. With every ounce in him he didn’t want to cross over his professional ethics again like when he’d kissed her at the doctor’s cabin—at least until this case was over—but he knew his toe constantly broached the chalked white foul line.

“Your account gave us a lot to work with. I want to go back and interview your neighbor Harriet. Perhaps she can describe this man to a sketch artist, and we’d have something to work from. We also need to go back to your old house. Based on what you said, I know there could be forensic evidence your assailant left behind. We need to examine that staircase railing to see if there’s any DNA evidence the first forensic sweep might have missed.” Eli took a couple of quick bites of ice cream. “You also provided insight into how he incapacitated his victims enough to hang them. Chloroform is known to have the sweet smell you describe and can incapacitate someone by smothering their face. Old-school but effective.”

“The more you talk, the more it sounds like you think the Hangman is not in prison.”

Eli set his ice cream dish down. “I don’t know if I would go that far. It’s hard to refute the DNA evidence of Dr. Heller’s blood in the rope fibers of each noose.”

“Except Evelyn Roush.”

“This leads me more to suspect the Hangman was working in partnership with someone who is trying to finish what they started.”

“But why is he doing this?”

“Once we know that, a lot of things will become clear. Figuring out motives isn’t as simple in real life as it is on television.”

“Those are good ideas, but what if we just end up at the same place we are now?”

“All we can do is try. Let’s call Harriet and see if she’ll visit with us in the morning. Then I’ll schedule a forensic team to meet us at your old house tomorrow afternoon and I’ll have a little chat with Ryder Dymond.”

“How did they find him?” Julia asked.

“Aurora police picked him up not far from your house. We’ll see if he says anything. At this point he’s not under arrest, but we can hold him for a few days for questioning.”

Julia pulled her hands away. “You know what I can’t get out of mind?”

“What?”

“That the man who tried to kill me didn’t care if I saw his face. That’s how sure he was that I was going to die.”

Eli thought a lot about that fact, too. And the truth was, this memory of Julia’s put her life more at risk because now she could potentially identify him. Whoever this man was, he was running out of time whether he was the true Hangman or not.

* * *

The next morning, Eli drove with Julia to Harriet Wilson’s house. Seeing her old neighborhood brought back welcome memories. Julia relished recalling sitting on the porch of her home and watching the activity of her neighbors. Children playing ball in the street. Every Coloradoan owned a dog, and the parade of pet owners and their furry charges was always entertainment.

When Eli turned the corner on her street, a sense of foreboding overtook Julia.

They parked and Julia’s eyes wandered over to her house. The property remained for sale, and her Realtor had agreed to meet them there in another thirty minutes, along with an FBI Forensics team, to take a second look for evidence. Could today hold clues they needed to bring this nightmare to an end?

“You really think this old lady is going to remember something?” Will asked from the backseat, fidgeting with the computer in his lap.

“What can it hurt? I don’t see you or Ben coming up with any new ideas.”

“Because our primary focus isn’t investigation—it’s protecting Julia,” Ben said. “Since Quentin seems to have no interest in keeping you in line and protecting the U.S. Marshals’ reputation, then it falls to me.”

Why was he picking this moment to seemingly start a fight with two of his fellow agents?

Eli turned to Julia. “I’m going to let you take the lead on this. See if she remembers you and we’ll go from there.”

Julia exited the car and walked to the door, flanked by Eli and Ben with Will trailing a few steps behind. She knocked—several louder than normal raps. Ms. Wilson was a little hard of hearing.

Before long, a nose peeked through the crack, which widened to reveal a pair of milky brown eyes. They widened in surprise and the woman threw the door open.

“My sweet Julia! It really is you.” Her bulky frame stepped onto the porch, and she pressed Julia’s face between her hands and then kissed her forehead. “I thought I was dreaming last night when that young man called me and said you wanted to come by for a visit.”

“I have three men with me. Is it okay for all of us to come in?”

“Oh, of course. It’s been so long since I’ve had a gentleman caller—imagine three in the same day.”

The four of them stepped into the foyer. Eli held his hand out. “I’m the one who spoke to you on the phone.”

Harriet dropped her hand onto Eli’s shoulder. “What a fine specimen you are. It’s nice to see that Julia found such a handsome man to take care of her.”

“We’re not together,” they said in unison.

Julia’s heart stalled. What did they say about protesting too loudly?

“This is Ben Murphy and Will Sullivan,” Julia said.

Will stepped forward, his laptop clutched under one arm. “Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand briefly.

“You—” she pointed a finger straight at Ben’s face “—look like someone I know.” She tapped her index finger against her temple. “Have we met before?”

“Ms. Wilson, I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of your company. Some say I look like Robert Downey Jr. Do you like his movies?” Ben asked.

As she clapped her hands together, her eyes held his—raptured by his presence. “That’s it! You do look a lot like him, but I’m thinking of an older Hollywood actor.” She snapped her fingers in the air. “I just can’t place his name. Oh, it’s going to keep me up all night thinking about this. Those green eyes of yours...really striking.”

Ben bowed slightly. “It’s the best compliment I could receive. My son...” His voice trailed. “Forgive me, I’m not really here to share personal stories. I’ll let Julia explain the reason behind our visit.”

Julia cataloged the moment in her mind. One thing about Ben—he wanted to remain a closed book. Was that unusual? Eli insisted that doing so crossed a professional boundary and yet struggled not to share parts of his life with her.

Harriet motioned for them to follow. “I have iced tea waiting.”

Eli and Julia took two chairs. Will sat next to Harriet on the couch and opened his laptop. Ben hovered near the doorway.

“Ms. Wilson, do you remember the day the police were at my house?” Julia asked.

Her eyes teared up. “That was such an awful day. I’m so glad you’ve stopped by to see me today because I honestly didn’t believe the reports that you’d survived. I mean, you didn’t testify in the trial or anything.”

Julia placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward. “I’m sorry. I should have come to see you when I was all better. I’ve missed you.”

Her nursing assessment skills kicked in. Had anyone filled the void that Julia left? The old woman had definitely lost weight—which might not have been a bad thing. There were other signs that were more disturbing to Julia. Her dove-gray hair was much longer—gathered in a braid that went all the way down to her midback. But the strands were brittle, dry. Her skin looked sallow. Julia would need to look in her refrigerator before they left to make sure she was stocked up for a while.

Ms. Wilson waved off impending tears. “I’m just so thankful to see you today. You look so happy.”

Happy?

“Do you remember anything about that day?” Julia asked.

“I remember the neighbor who came by looking for cake ingredients.”

Julia pressed her feet into the floor to keep her legs from shaking. “Yes, that’s the man I’d like to talk to you about. We’ll see if you can describe him for Will.”

“It was the strangest thing. He said he lived just down the street, but I’d never seen him before. That may not mean too much. I don’t like to go out.”

“Tell me what happened when he stopped by,” Eli asked.

“Oh my. It was so early in the morning. He got me up out of bed. It’s like he had this whole list of ingredients he needed. I felt like a grocery store. He said it was his little boy’s birthday and his wife didn’t buy the things he needed to bake a cake. I mean, why was he baking the cake anyway?”

“What sorts of things did he ask for?” Ben asked.

Harriet began to tick things off on her fingers. “Flour. Salt. Who doesn’t keep those things on hand? Shortening. Now, these days, most probably don’t have Crisco on hand, but I do.”

“Harriet, was there anything you didn’t have on hand for this gentleman?”

“Eggs. I didn’t have any eggs.”

“What did he do then?” Ben asked.

Julia caught Eli’s eyes. He gave her a nod. Perhaps Ben wasn’t completely useless for this interview even though he didn’t agree with doing it.

“At first, I just told him I didn’t have any. But then he insisted I call someone to see if they did. You were the first person I could think of. Really, the only one.”

Eli mouthed something to Will that Julia couldn’t quite make out.

“He asked me to call you and ask for eggs.”

“Me specifically?” Julia asked.

Harriet nodded. “Yes, he did use your name. I didn’t find it strange if he was our neighbor.”

Will positioned his laptop so Harriet could see it. “Great. What we’re going to do is create a picture on my computer of what this man looks like. Let’s start with his nose.”

“Do you know Rock Hudson?” Harriet asked. “He had a nose just like him.”

Will laughed. “Can’t say I’m really familiar with him, but I’ll just Google a picture and I’ll find a nose that compares. While I do that, what else can you remember?”

“His eyes were the most distinctive, dark green. Seriously, just like that man over there.” She turned to face Ben. “Do you have a brother?”

“I don’t have any siblings,” Ben said.

Will pivoted the screen toward Harriet. “How about this nose?”

She studied the image. “I don’t know. It’s a little off.”

“Let’s stick with it for now. How about the shape of the man’s eyes? Round? Almond?”

“Oh, I don’t know. This is so hard. I hate computers.”

The green eyes that Julia remembered flashed into her vision. Now she could easily recall this most striking feature, as well. They were similar to Ben’s eyes. Julia’s palms began to sweat.

“How about the shape of his face?” Will asked. “Square? Triangle?”

“Now, that’s where you’re totally different,” Harriet playfully swatted the air in Ben’s direction. “The neighbor’s face was definitely like a square box. Very strong chin—like John Wayne.”

Julia exhaled slowly. How could she even remotely suspect Ben when he’d saved her life—on more than one occasion? The stress was causing her to become paranoid and hypersensitive.

“One John Wayne jaw coming up. Talk to me about his hair.”

“Long. I never like it when men wear their hair long. Julia, what about you?”

“You’re right, Harriet. Definitely short hair on a guy.”

“Like Eli’s. I like your hair, young man.”

Eli fidgeted in his seat uneasily. “Thank you, Ms. Wilson. I don’t get very many compliments on my hair.”

“Well,
it is
messy. You need to comb it. Use some of that fancy hair gel to keep it in place.”

Julia chuckled. She’d forgotten how funny Harriet was. Then a creeping hole snuck its way into her gut. Her assailant had taken so much from her, but he’d also taken her away from Harriet. It was time to correct that.

“Do you like Julia?” Harriet asked Eli.

To Julia’s surprise, a flash of red dashed into his cheeks. “Yes, she’s a very likable girl.”

“No, I mean do you
like
her, because you won’t stop stealing glances when she’s not looking at you.”

Julia smiled at Eli and he winked at her. “Well, it’s my job to watch her now, so I guess that means I’m doing a good job of it.”

“How about this, Ms. Wilson?” Will asked. “Does this look like the man who stopped to visit you that day?”

“It’s close—”

“We can work with it, then.” Will flashed the computer screen Julia’s way. It looked like a mash of Rock Hudson and John Wayne.

And it didn’t match any fragment of memories that Julia had of the man who attacked her.

* * *

Directly after their visit with Ms. Wilson, Eli followed Julia as she crossed the lawn to the front door of her old house. According to Julia, she was still making mortgage payments on her refurbished bungalow even though she had moved to a new house. She’d been the beneficiary of her parents’ life insurance policies, a total amount unknown to Eli, but enough to maintain two properties and perhaps the money she needed for her nurse’s retraining.