Into Dust. B.J. Daniels

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Into Dust - B.J.  Daniels


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Montana unless they were getting married—or buried.

      As if feeling her gaze on him, Dr. Ralph Venable turned to look at her. He was in his early seventies, but didn’t look his age. A tall, lean man with kind blue eyes, the doctor had unexpectedly shown up at her door back in the spring, something she’d kept secret from everyone.

      “Was that Buck on the phone?” he asked now.

      “He’s landed. We have time.” She’d been packing, planning to move in with Buck that night back in early spring, when the doctor had shown up at the old ranch house where she was still staying.

      Seeing this man had frightened her, since, while she lived on Hamilton Ranch, she lived some distance from the main house—and everyone else, including her former husband and her six daughters.

      “Who are you?” she’d demanded, telling herself that she didn’t know the older man who’d appeared at her door without warning. But he knew her. And bone-deep, she realized she did know him. His name was Dr. Ralph Venable and he was the man who had stolen twenty-two years of her memory. Dr. Venable specialized in brain wiping. Not only had he stolen her memories, he’d also planted false ones.

      “You made me forget my life,” she had accused, moving quickly to the kitchen, where she’d grabbed a carving knife and brandished it as he’d followed her. “You stole twenty-two years from me.” Her voice had broken with emotion. “I missed seeing my babies grow up. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

      “Because you need me.”

      “Who hired you to do that to me?” she had asked, terrified he would say it had been Buck, the father of her children, the man she loved. She hadn’t wanted to suspect Buck, but the man who’d found her when she’d literally been dropped back into Montana, Russell Murdock, had been convinced that her husband had been behind the brain wiping. Russell believed that there was something Buck didn’t want her to remember. Something so terrible that it had driven her to attempt suicide all those years ago.

      “I saved your life, Sarah,” Dr. Venable had said. “That winter night you drove into the Yellowstone River, your car breaking through the ice, the freezing water washing you downstream? I’m the person you called after that old hermit rescued you. You begged me to help you. The reason you called me was because you knew I was the one person you could turn to. The one person who understood and would help you.”

      “It makes no sense why I would try to kill myself. I loved Buck. I loved my children. I loved my life. What would make me agree to leave them for any reason?”

      “You had your reasons, though misguided, and that is why I sent someone to pick you up and bring you to my clinic in White Sulphur Springs, a half day away from Hamilton Ranch. You and I are friends, Sarah. We’ve been friends for years—long before you met Buck.”

      “How is that possible? I don’t remember any of it!” she’d cried. “You stole that from me.”

      “Only because you begged me to. You couldn’t live with the memories. That’s why you tried to kill yourself.”

      She hadn’t believed him. She’d snatched up her cell phone, but his calm, reassuring voice had stopped her.

      “Who are you going to call, Sarah? The sheriff? Your former husband? One of your daughters?”

      She had looked down at the cell screen, her fingers momentarily frozen over the keys. Russell. He’d said to call him. He’d known Dr. Venable would come for her again. He’d known that Dr. Venable wasn’t finished with her.

      “Even Russell can’t help you like I can,” the doctor had said, surprising her that he knew about Russell. Knew that was who she was thinking of calling.

      “I can clear this all up for you, Sarah. You want answers? I can provide them. I am the only one who can. Put down the phone. I’ve come back to help you—just as we planned.”

      She had looked from the phone to his face. Even as she’d tried to deny what he’d been saying, she’d known it was true. She had called him that night. She had trusted him. Even if she didn’t remember, there was one thing she had known. Dr. Venable had all the answers she desperately needed.

      That day last spring, she’d asked, “You know why I tried to kill myself?” The knife had wavered in her hand, the cell phone forgotten.

      He’d nodded. “I know everything from the first time you and I met all those years ago.”

      She had begun to cry. He’d stepped to her, taking the knife, then the cell phone and putting them aside before he’d taken her in his arms like a kindly father comforting her.

      “It’s all right, Sarah. You’re going to be all right now. I’m here. I’m going to help you. It’s time.”

      Now, months later, she still felt afraid and angry. She still wanted to kill him. But they both knew it was true. He was her only hope if she ever wanted to get the memories back. She needed answers before she could be with Buck as his wife again. Dr. Venable kept telling her they had to return her memories slowly. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she’d had little choice.

      “I can’t keep living like this,” she said now. “I have to know what it is you’re hiding from me before I can commit to Buck. I don’t care if that’s your plan or not.” She dug her heels in. Just the fact that Dr. Venable was determined that she get back together with her husband made her resist.

      He didn’t just scare her. It was clear from the moment she found him standing on her doorstep that he wasn’t just here for her. Whatever his ulterior motive was, it had something to do with her—and Buck.

      Dr. Venable opened the small black bag he carried. He could have passed for a country doctor fifty years ago. He took out a tiny dark blue velvet bag. “I promise you that by the time he arrives, it will all be very clear.”

      Her mouth went dry. She stared at the bag in his fingers, suddenly terrified. “What are you going to do to me?”

      “I’m going to help you remember everything you need to know so your husband will be the next president and you will be by his side. Right where you are destined to be.”

      Destined to be? Something in those words... Sarah felt her heart shudder. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to remember.

      * * *

      WHILE CASSIDY CHANGED into the clothing he’d bought her, Jack stepped out into the hall and called his father.

      Tom Durand answered on the second ring. “Son, I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

      Jack took a breath and let it out slowly. Had Ed recognized him earlier? Had he told his employer what had happened? “I didn’t like the way we left things the last time we talked,” he said, feeling his way cautiously.

      “Neither did I. So I’m glad you called.”

      “How’s LA?”

      “Crowded compared to Texas.”

      Jack could hear something in the background. “Are you on a plane?”

      His father laughed. “A boat. Headed for Catalina Island. I have a meeting out there.”

      It was several hours earlier on the West Coast, so not evening there quite yet. But still, there was no way his father could have gotten from Texas to California unless he’d jumped right on his private jet after Jack had seen him.

      “How’s the weather?”

      “It’s beautiful. Amazing sunset.” Tom Durand sounded downright cheerful. Jack was beginning to wonder if he had misread what happened at the cemetery. Maybe the money had nothing to do with the abduction of Cassidy Hamilton. Maybe his father was in California. Maybe he was on a boat to Catalina Island. Otherwise—

      “Jack, if you’re at the ranch, could you do me a favor?”

      He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck.


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