Roughshod Justice. Delores Fossen
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didn’t get a chance to try to convince him because the ambulance pulled to a stop in front of the emergency room doors of the hospital. The EMTs used the gurney to take her inside.
There was a uniformed deputy waiting for them, and when they went in, Jameson immediately motioned toward the note that he’d left on the seat. “Bag that and show it to Gabriel. I’ll need her clothes bagged, too.”
Yes, because there might be some kind of evidence on them. She hoped so anyway. She needed answers.
“Who were those dead men in the pasture?” she asked. “Do you have ID’s on them?”
Jameson seemed annoyed with her question. Of course, he probably was annoyed—and highly concerned—about all of this. Because of the note that had ordered her to kill him.
“We’ll know more soon,” he finally answered. “Especially when you remember what you should be remembering.”
There it was again, the tone that indicated he didn’t believe her. She couldn’t blame him. There were two dead guys, a threatening note and an ex-lover who didn’t have a clue what was going on.
The medics transferred her to an examining table in a room just off the ER, and Kelly immediately looked around to make sure someone wasn’t there, ready to come after her. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, and she prayed if there was another attack, she could protect herself.
Jameson didn’t immediately come into the room with her, but he stayed in the doorway while he made a call. However, he didn’t take his attention off her. Too bad. Because Kelly thought it might be a good idea for her to put some distance between Jameson and her.
While he was still on the phone, a nurse came in, took her vitals and made a quick check of her head wound. It was throbbing, but that was the least of her problems right now. Apparently the least of Jameson’s, too, because whatever he was hearing on the phone caused his forehead to bunch up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment he ended the call.
The nurse mumbled something about the doctor seeing her soon and walked out, leaving them alone.
“Your sister’s still not answering her phone, so I’m having the San Antonio cops go out and check on her,” Jameson said.
“Good. Thank you.” But that wasn’t an explanation for the renewed tension in his face. “What else?”
“You have gunshot residue on your hands, and one of the guns you had matches the wounds on the dead guys. It’s looking as if you’re the one who killed them.”
Kelly felt the tears again. Felt the icy slam of fear in her chest. “I don’t think I had a choice. I think they were trying to kill me.”
Jameson blew out a long breath. It sounded bad. Was bad, she mentally corrected. She’d been sent to kill him. Maybe those men had been sent to kill her. And whoever had orchestrated it was maybe still out there. Maybe that someone was also the reason her sister wasn’t able to answer her phone.
Kelly tried to focus, tried to make sense of the whirl of memories that were in her throbbing head. But when she wasn’t able to sort through it, she decided it was time to get as much info from Jameson as he would give her. Maybe then she could use that to piece together this puzzle.
“We were lovers?” she asked.
“No. Yes,” he amended after he cursed. “We had sex, but it was all a ploy on your part to steal that file.”
That. They kept going back to that file. “Why would I help someone like August Canton?”
“You tell me. In fact, I wanted to ask you that question about two years ago, but you disappeared.”
Maybe Mandy would be able to help with that. She likely would have told her sister why she had disappeared. Well, maybe. If her sister and she had been close—since they’d owned a PI business together, maybe that meant they had been.
“Other than the Canton case, any idea what else I was working on around that same time?” she asked.
Kelly hadn’t figured that Jameson would actually know. Especially if she had gotten involved with him because of the Cantons, and that’s why she was surprised when he readily answered.
“You were investigating a guy named Frank Worley.”
Finally, that sounded familiar. More than familiar. It sent another chill through her. “He’s a money launderer.”
Jameson stared at her and then moved closer. Too close. And he looked into her eyes. “That’s what the San Antonio PD thought. So did one of his former employees. You remember that?”
“No.” But she motioned for him to continue.
He did, after he huffed. “Worley’s ex-girlfriend, Hadley Beecham, hired you to find their infant daughter, Amy, whom she claimed Worley had stolen and hidden. Hadley was killed in a suspicious car accident, but that only made you dig deeper into the case.”
She thought about that for a moment. “Maybe Worley’s the reason I disappeared. Maybe he’s the reason this is happening now?”
Jameson shrugged. “Worley’s bad news, I have no doubts about that. But I was never able to link your disappearance to him.”
“You searched for me,” she said. But wished she hadn’t. That comment only put more frustration back into his eyes.
“Because you stole that file,” he grumbled.
So he’d been looking for her to arrest her. Maybe still would. But she instinctively knew that it wouldn’t be safe to be locked up where someone could get to her. Everything inside her was screaming that she should get to a safe place, and behind bars wouldn’t be that place. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to look for that her.
A man stepped into the room. He was wearing jeans and a blue shirt, but he was in the process of putting on a white coat with a name tag stitched on it. According to the name tag, he was Dr. Timothy Halston.
“It’s okay,” Jameson said, taking hold of her arm. Until he did that, Kelly hadn’t even been aware that she was trying to get off the table. “He’s the local doc in Blue River.”
Neither the doctor nor his name meant anything to her, but Blue River rang some bells. It was Jameson’s hometown. She was sure of it. And she’d been on her way there when, well, when the incident with those men had happened.
“Jameson’s right,” the doctor added. “And I need to have a look at that gash on your head.”
The doctor moved in to do that just as Jameson’s phone rang. He stepped back into the doorway, moving away from her. Something that sent her heart racing. Even though she wasn’t sure she could fully trust Jameson, right now Kelly trusted him more than she did anyone else.
“It’s not that deep of a cut, but I guess you took a hard enough lick on the head to mess up your memory,” the doctor continued, but Kelly tuned him out and tried to hear what the caller was telling Jameson. He didn’t put his phone on speaker, but after a few seconds, he mumbled some profanity.
“When?” Jameson asked the caller.
She had to look around the doctor when he moved in front of her to continue the exam. Not that there was much to see or hear. Jameson was clearly in listening mode. And like before, he didn’t like whatever it was he was hearing.
“When will I get my memory back?” Kelly asked the doctor.
“Can’t say. Sometimes, these things only last an hour or so. Sometimes, longer. I’ll order some tests,” the doctor said, waving a penlight in front of her eyes. “How bad is the pain?”
“I’m okay,” she lied. But there was no way she wanted pain meds. Her head was already too foggy as it was.
“All right. Then I’ll get started on those tests.” The doctor again.