A Trace of Memory, page 5
“Travis told me he inherited this ranch. That seems kind of odd. Why didn’t co-ownership pass to you?”
“Country ways, mostly,” Cleo told her. “Around here, they’re more concerned with blood ties to the land than with marriage ones. Jim left me plenty of money to buy myself a house in town but I didn’t want to move. And since Travis needed me, I stayed put.”
“You weren’t upset? I mean, your husband cut you out.”
“I’d known all about his plans for years,” Cleo said. “Since there are no community property laws in Arkansas, I just accepted it as inevitable and didn’t argue.”
“It seems so old-fashioned.”
“That doesn’t make it wrong,” Cleo countered. “It’s like Travis tellin’ you to stay in the house. I could see it rankled, but that’s no proof he was wrong.”
Emma had to laugh. “All right. I get the idea. But if he keeps ordering me around I’m liable to argue.”
Grinning, the older woman gave her a conspiratorial wink. “I can hardly wait to hear it.”
* * *
Sheriff Harlan Allgood drove out to the site of the shooting in his patrol car after Travis and a deputy named Adelaide Crowe crossed the pasture in Travis’s farm truck and radioed GPS coordinates.
The damaged ATV was just as he’d left it, complete with flat tire and a hole through one fender.
“Looks like this was done with a .22,” Harlan observed. “Probably won’t be much left of the slug to retrieve and even if we could, ballistics won’t help unless we have a weapon to match it to.”
Travis shrugged, his hands in his jacket pockets. “I know. I suppose I could have just towed the thing home without bothering you, but I was concerned that this might have something to do with Emma.”
“She still claimin’ amnesia?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Travis replied. “There are times when she seems to remember bits and pieces, then other times when she hardly knows her own name.” He pulled a face. “That’s an exaggeration. She does know that. And she seems to know me. It’s the past few years that only come to her in fits and starts.”
Straightening from where she’d been examining the damaged vehicle, Adelaide looked to her boss. “Kind of reminds me of what Thad Pearson went through with PTSD. Remember? Just because a person hasn’t actually fought in a war doesn’t mean they can’t be traumatized.”
“Cleo and I thought of that,” Travis said. “Samantha Rochard-Waltham is coming to the house tonight to give Emma a good looking-over. Maybe she can at least put a name to the problem so we don’t have to keep wondering.”
The female deputy was scanning the surrounding forest. “How many times did you say you were shot at?”
“Twice. Once in the tire and once in the rear fender. Why?”
Instead of answering immediately, Adelaide took out a pocket knife and began probing the bark of a nearby hickory sapling. She turned in moments to display her find.
Travis didn’t have to be told what she’d found. The revving noise of his engine had apparently masked more shots than he’d registered. And the bullet she had just dug out of the tree must have barely missed him!
A shiver raced up his spine and prickled the hair on the back of his neck. His intent stare traced the path of the shot from the depths of the distant woods to the tree. Why that attempt had not taken him down was a wonder. Or, as Cleo would say, his guardian angel now had a lot more gray hair.
“I never heard that one coming,” he told the sheriff. “Guess I must have leaned forward at just the right time.”
“No guess about it,” Harlan said, frowning and turning away to scan the distant terrain. “Deputy Crowe, you go scout over there, just in case somebody dropped another clue. In the meantime, Travis and I are gonna have us a little talk.”
When the sheriff looked back at Travis his scowl had deepened. “You’re protectin’ Emma, aren’t you?”
“No.” He held up a hand. “I swear I’m not holding anything back. She’s so befuddled it’s not funny. Under the circumstances, I’m surprised she made it back to Serenity.”
“She remembered that much?”
“Up to a point. It seems as though she’s aware of her childhood and some of her teen years. It’s after she left town, where she went, and who she was with, that’s foggy.”
“Or, so she claims.”
“I believe her,” Travis said, hoping Harlan would continue to give Emma the benefit of the doubt for a little longer. “She comes up with a detail here and there but it’s hard to track her thoughts. I’m pretty sure she’ll eventually be able to put the whole story together to suit everybody, herself included.”
What Travis chose to keep to himself for the present was Emma’s impression that an unnamed child might be in jeopardy. That story was mixed up and kept changing too much. Until Emma settled on an indisputable fact he figured it was best to say nothing rather than send the law off on a tangent. If her tales of an endangered child took shape and proved true, then he’d gladly act.
“All right,” the portly sheriff said. “I’ll help you push that crippled machine to your truck before I try to turn my rig around. You couldn’t have picked a nastier place to have your ambush.”
“Believe me, Harlan, I didn’t pick it.” Travis took the ATV out of gear and started to maneuver it as best he could. It wasn’t easy, particularly with a flat tire. “I’ve been thinking about the tire tracks I spotted last night. Local boys wouldn’t be likely to pull a big rig out here. The trail’s too narrow. Besides, it was getting dark. They’d be crazy to get themselves into a tight spot like this.”
“Crazy is right,” the sheriff replied. “Anybody who’d take potshots at a stranger on his own land has to be nuts.”
“Maybe they knew me.”
That remark brought instant attention. “You saw the shooter?”
“No.” Travis shook his head. “But while you’re investigating, you might want to see where Blake Browning is hanging out these days.”
“Why him? I haven’t laid eyes on him or his brother, Ben, for ages.”
“None of us have. It’s just that I remembered it was Blake’s band that Emma joined when she left for Nashville.”
“You think he might be lookin’ for her? Why?”
“I don’t know. He may not be. All I’m sure about is that she recognized a photo of him I found on the internet and it upset her. A lot.”
“Could be she just quit his group and he got somebody else. I reckon there’s plenty of hopeful singers in a place like Nashville.”
“There’s only one that I care about,” Travis said flatly. “Will you check for me? Please?”
The sheriff shrugged as they positioned the small, single-person vehicle at the bottom of a pair of ramps and hooked a cable to its front tow hook. “Okay. I’ll see what I can find out. But don’t hold your breath. I remember Mrs. Landers asking me to do the same thing a couple of years ago after her husband died. It was like everybody in that whole Browning Brothers band had dropped clean off the face of the earth after one of their members copped a plea and went to prison.”
“You’ll still try again?”
They began to winch the heavy ATV aboard the pickup. “I’ll try,” Harlan promised. His gaze wandered to the tree where his deputy had extracted the small bullet. “And in the meantime, it might be good if you kept your head down and minded your own business.”
“Yeah,” Travis said with a grimace. “I think that’s a very good idea.” Too bad it wasn’t going to be possible.
* * *
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Emma asked Cleo.
“Just keep me company while I brown this roast for supper and get it in the oven. Later, you and I can set the dining-room table for company.”
“All right. I wonder what’s taking Travis so long?”
“I heard him drive in a while back. He’s probably out in the barn tinkering with the ATV.”
The house phone rang.
Smiling, Cleo held up hands dusty with flour and asked, “Can you get that for me?”
“Sure.” Without hesitation, Emma reached for the receiver of the instrument hanging on the wall. It struck her as odd to see such an old-fashioned phone when most people used cells.
“Wright Ranch,” was all she said.
The muffled laugh on the other end of the line caused her to scowl. “Hello? Hello? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”
“You heard plenty last night, didn’t you, Emma,” the voice drawled.
Anger rose in her. “Who is this? What do you want with me?”
“You already know.”
“No!” She was shouting into the receiver. “I don’t know. I can’t remember a thing. Leave me alone!”
“Humph. That ain’t gonna happen. You know it and I know it, so stop pretending or you and your boyfriend will both be sorry.” He guffawed eerily. “And the old lady, too. Maybe I’ll start with her. That should jog your memory.”
By this time Cleo was beside Emma, their ears pressed close so both could listen. Instead of butting into the conversation, Cleo used one floury finger on the disconnect lever to break the connection.
“No sense giving scum like that the courtesy of listening. The next time that phone rings, you let me or Travis answer.”
“It will ring again, won’t it?” Emma’s knees were wobbly, her vision blurred by unshed tears. “Even if I left this very minute, that person might still bother you.” And maybe really hurt you, she added to herself.
The instinct to run and not look back was strong. The realization that doing so in the past had not helped kept her from fleeing again.
All right, she decided, squaring her shoulders and taking a settling breath in spite of her quaking nerves. If I can’t protect the people I care about by leaving, I’ll do it by standing my ground and facing my enemies.
Beyond that vow lay the awareness that she needed to call upon God, as well. She might not recall worshipping recently but she knew her heavenly Father was still there, still listening, still willing to forgive, even if she couldn’t name her sins.
Asking His forgiveness wasn’t hard.
Believing it had been granted, however, was a totally different story.
“You should go tell Travis what just happened,” Cleo suggested, breaking into her thoughts. “We need to all be on the same page so we’re not caught unawares.”
“I agree.” Emma grabbed the freshly washed gray sweatshirt and slipped it on over the jogging-suit jacket. “I’ll run out to the barn and talk to him.”
“I’ll watch till you get there in case I have to come after you with my shotgun.”
“I wish I felt it was safe for me to be armed, but until I know more about why I’m so confused, I suspect it will be best for me to stay away from firearms.”
“Just the fact you’re sayin’ that makes me trust your judgment more,” Cleo said. “After you’ve talked to Samantha tonight, for starters, we’ll consider making changes.”
Emma paused at the door, her hand on the knob. “Do you honestly think she can help me?”
“God willing,” Cleo said tenderly, smiling. “Trust Him the way you used to when you were a little girl, honey. He’ll be there for you. I know He will.”
Emma truly wanted to believe that. She simply wasn’t positive. Not yet.
* * *
Knowing that his aunt and Emma were safe within the house, Travis made use of his opportunity to tinker with the ATV and do some serious thinking in private. When Emma was around he found it impossible to ignore her, particularly since she was so desperately in need of his aid.
Would she have come back to me if she’d had any other choice? he asked himself. Perhaps. Perhaps not. It was a moot point since she was there and he was already up to his neck in her problems.
Startled by a shadow crossing in front of the open doorway and his ranch dogs getting to their feet, Travis fisted a wrench and crouched defensively behind the ATV.
Emma appeared. She was smiling, hands raised, palms out, as the dogs crowded around her with wagging tails. “Whoa. Take it easy, Travis. It’s just me.”
Just her? He almost laughed out loud. There was nothing simple or trivial about Emma. If there had been, maybe his heart would quit jumping every time he saw her.
“What’s up?” He wiped his hands on a rag as nonchalantly as he could and laid it aside with the wrench while she busied herself paying special attention to each friendly hound.
Emma finally met his gaze. “Cleo and I thought... I mean, we decided...”
“I’ve got that much,” Travis said with a lazy smile. “You women have come to some kind of conclusion that involves me. So, spill it.”
Her smile waned and she nodded soberly. “Somebody just called the house. Cleo was busy cooking so I answered.”
Judging by the way the healthy color had drained from Emma’s cheeks, the caller had not been friendly. Travis circled the half-dismantled vehicle and touched her sleeve. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know. Cleo came over and we both listened a bit before she hung up for me. It was a man making threats. Against me and both of you, too.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Emma pressed her fingertips to her temples. “He seemed to think I was keeping a secret of some kind. I told him I couldn’t remember but he didn’t believe me.”
“I kept meaning to put caller ID on my phones. Never got around to it. I think it’s time I did that.” He had cupped her elbow and was urging her toward the house as he spoke, pausing only long enough to scan the quiet yard and make sure his dogs were not showing signs of sensing trespassers.
“What am I going to do?” Emma had to nearly run to keep up with his long strides.
“We’re going to report this to Harlan for starters,” Travis said. “Whoever it is can’t get away with harassing you.”
“Do you think it’s Blake?”
“I don’t know. Was the voice familiar?”
Emma was shaking her head. “I don’t think so. It was sort of muffled and deep. Even so, I think I’d have recognized some similarities if it had been him.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Travis said, hustling her up the back steps and into the kitchen. “Even if he is involved, I don’t think he’s acting alone.”
“Which means we’re back to square one.”
“Not exactly.”
Travis drew the blinds over the kitchen window above the sink and locked the back door before picking up the telephone, dialing and asking to speak with the sheriff.
Cleo and Emma concentrated on his every word, supplying little details, as needed, when he relayed Harlan’s questions.
“No. There was no more shooting,” Travis assured him. “Not this time. But he scared the daylights out of the women with his phone threats.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Cleo interjected, sounding miffed.
Travis ignored her to continue his main conversation. “That’s right. They had the number for the house. No, not my cell. Why? Okay.” He nodded sagely. “I understand. I’ll keep my head down.”
As he ended the call he became aware of added scrutiny. Meeting his aunt’s gaze boldly, he tried to will her to let the subject drop. She didn’t.
“Okay. Why should Harlan tell you to keep your head down? I thought the yahoos in the woods were just shooting at your tires.”
“There may have been a few more shots that I wasn’t aware of at the time,” Travis said, shrugging off her concern. “It’s not important. There was no harm done.”
A sidelong glance at Emma told him that she was taking his confession even harder than Cleo was. Her skin was ashen, her blue eyes wide.
“All right. This is how it is,” Travis explained. “Whoever is chasing Emma has figured out where she’s staying and is apparently determined to get her to reveal some secret she actually can’t remember.” He concentrated on her. “Is that right?”
Emma nodded. She had laced her slim fingers together so tightly they were turning white.
“And you truly don’t have a clue why he’s after you?”
“No! I’ve told you over and over. I do not know.”
“Okay, let’s suppose that’s true and...”
Emma shouted, “It is true.”
“Bad choice of words,” he countered, still not totally convinced she wasn’t withholding something, even if she didn’t realize she was doing it. “The sheriff is going to send someone out to put a device on this line that will record all incoming calls and their origins. In the meantime, he suggests we use cell phones, instead. Those numbers should be harder to come by.”
Emma sank into a kitchen chair. “I just want it all to be over.”
Cleo joined her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Tell you what. How about I get the rest of the dinner preparations finished and we run into town to get you some decent clothes. You’ll feel better once you have some nice things of your own to wear.”
Travis was astonished. “I don’t believe you two. Don’t you understand what’s going on? None of us should even stick our heads outside unless we absolutely have to—and you’re talking about going shopping.”
“In a busy store in a crowd,” Cleo said. “We’ll run over to Ash Flat to that big-box store.” She smiled. “If you’re so worried, you can drive us there.”
“Well, you’re sure not going alone,” he said, gritting his teeth as he stared at his aunt.
“Then it’s settled. Just give me another half hour and I’ll be ready.”
Travis looked to Emma. “You’re going along with this crazy plan?”
She seemed to regain a more natural color as she straightened her spine, lifted her chin and faced him. “I’ve made up my mind that the only way to cope is to face my fears,” Emma said. “Might as well start today.”
