Fractured Memory. Jordyn Redwood
“What?”
“That you found Julia?”
“The hospital called and reported her missing after they tried to get a hold of her for two hours when she didn’t show up for work. I was in her neighborhood when Dispatch notified us of the need for the welfare check. It was the same day—”
“Of the high school shooting.”
“I wasn’t tasked on that case, and I knew it would be hours before a uniformed officer would be available, so I decided to stop by and help out. Get it off the call log.”
Eli turned away from Quentin. He could feel the emotion of that day building in his chest. What he thought was going to be a quick safety check had changed his life forever. When he’d gone up her steps, there was no answer at the door. When he peered through the side window—he saw her. Much in the same fashion he’d just seen Evelyn Roush.
“It’s good for Julia that you were so close.”
Eli squared his shoulders and turned back to Quentin. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“Should I?”
“Absolutely not.”
Quentin put a firm hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think you’re the Hangman. I am concerned you might be too emotionally connected to Julia—finding a victim that way, barely clinging to life, resuscitating her and perhaps developing feelings—”
“I don’t have feelings for Julia Galloway. I was just doing my job then. Am doing my job now.”
A knowing look crossed Quentin’s eyes.
Am I so easy to read?
“What I see is that, perhaps, your judgment is clouded. Even though there is a man in jail serving for the Hangman’s crimes, we should consider the possibility, in light of today’s event, and the hit on Julia’s life, that the Hangman was not working alone.”
Eli’s mouth dried. Was it possible? They had missed a partner all along? “If that’s true, then why is this person killing again? He could have walked away scot-free after Mark Heller’s conviction.”
“What it suggests to me is two possibilities—a seasoned serial killer who can’t help himself or someone with a personal vendetta against this group of people, and he’s not going to stop until his sense of justice is satisfied.”
Did either of those possibilities carry the same threat against Julia?
“Then why hire someone to kill Julia? Why not finish her off the same way he tried to before—especially considering this murder.”
“That, Agent Cayne, is what you’re going to have to figure out.”
“Get me access to Mark Heller,” Eli said.
“You want to interview the Hangman?”
“You’re implying he didn’t act alone. I think an interview is warranted.”
“What’s his incentive to open up to you?” Quentin asked.
“Heller has always claimed his innocence.”
“As they all do.” Quentin smirked.
“True—but if he offers new information and this crime ends up being linked to the Hangman, he’d be in a good position for appeal and ultimately getting his freedom back.”
“You’re prepared for what that means for you—personally and professionally?”
Eli’s stomach clenched. Could he have put an innocent man in jail? Or had he just let a partner go free?
Either possibility wasn’t acceptable.
* * *
Julia relished her friend Crystal’s smile. It had been too long, since before her attack, since they’d had a chance to catch up.
“I got a heads-up through the hospital rumor mill that you were down here in the ER, so I snuck in under the guise I was your nurse. I’m glad I wasn’t shot on sight for doing so.”
Ben lifted his eyes briefly from his laptop. “I might reconsider next time.”
Crystal winked at him and turned her attention back to Julia. “I’m so glad you’re not mad at me for not being there for you when you were so sick.”
“How could I be now that I know your mother was going through cancer treatment. I’m so glad she’s okay.”
Glancing around the room, Julia was unnerved to have Ben sitting in the corner listening to their private conversation. He tried his best to be nonobtrusive, but the more Julia watched Ben’s face, the more she felt he was hiding something from her. Frequently, he placed his finger against his earpiece listening to communications, which often was followed by a slight frown. A few times he’d stepped out of the room to talk with the agent outside her door. And where was Eli? He’d told her he’d be back at the hospital this morning. So far he hadn’t shown up and it was nearly ten o’clock.
Ben didn’t present the same type of peaceful calm that Eli did. There was an undercurrent of something smoldering that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Home problems? Ben said he didn’t have children. Perhaps he couldn’t have any. Julia eyed his hand. There was a simple gold band on his left fourth finger. Today, he had a nervous energy about him—like a kangaroo hyped up on caffeine. But then, he’d had the same brush with death that Julia had. Perhaps that was enough to explain his behavior.
The curse of nursing enveloped her. Why couldn’t she just enjoy people for who they were? When did the analysis of people stop? The issue with emergency room patients, at times even their parents, was that they didn’t always tell the truth.
What she needed to learn was that not everyone was hiding a lie, either.
“Julia...” Crystal’s voice trailed as her face tilted toward the ground. Her long, wavy brown hair dropped over her face.
Julia reached for her friend’s hand. “What is it? I want this to be a happy time together. Anything to keep my mind off what’s going on.”
“I feel so bad talking about my mother when your parents...”
Both died. That was the line her friend couldn’t finish. Was that really why she hadn’t heard from Crystal since her attack?
“It’s okay,” Julia offered.
“On their way to the hospital to see you.” Crystal broke down. All Julia could think to do was place a comforting hand on her shoulder until the sobbing subsided.
The truth was Julia had suffered more loss than she thought humanly possible. Each day was a step into unknown territory. Before her attack, she’d parroted the same response to friends that everyone said to her.
Don’t worry. God won’t give you more than you can handle.
That was a myth perpetuated by people in good faith but poor understanding. The Bible was rife with people getting hefty doses of more than they could handle. What was the purpose of suffering? What Julia learned was that at the point where life became overbearing—that was when the only option left was to throw your hands up to God and let Him take over. It was in a human’s ultimate weakness that God’s strength poured through.
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