Authors: Kristen James
“Illegal?” He looked surprised. He rubbed his hands together
before saying, “Honestly? I’ve wondered if your parents disliked me enough to
take off like that.”
“They didn’t like you?” Now Molly felt surprised.
“They did. At least, I thought so. However, when you said
you were living in California, so close to here, and they didn’t even call,
well, I just wondered.”
“I don’t know what to say.” At least she didn’t for a
minute. “What about when you became a cop?”
Trent paused, his eyebrows raised. “can you explain that?”
“Did their attitude toward you change when you became a
cop?”
“They knew from the start what I wanted to do. I made up my
mind before high school even.”
“Hmmm.” She took a big drink of her wine. “And when you
actually became a cop?”
“I didn’t notice a change.”
This line of thinking could lead somewhere, and that was the
problem. Neither pushed it. She expected their food soon and told Trent, “Now
that tomorrow’s decided, let’s forget about planning and worrying and just
enjoy tonight.”
He raised his glass to that just as their food arrived.
Halfway through the meal, she asked him, “So when are you going to tell me
about you and me?”
He had to chew his steak for a minute and then swallowed
hard. Trent looked like he wanted to tell her, but said, “I thought we weren’t
going to worry about all that.”
“And when do I get to see your house?” Her question stopped
him. She knew she needed to see it more than ever. “I can’t help but wonder
what we had . . . or why I left it.”
“I can’t answer all of that,” he said.
“The first part you can. You remember. I don’t.”
“Do I need to explain?” he asked in a shaky voice filled
with echoes of hurt and unanswered questions. She knew what he meant.
Trent called Mark and woke him up at six the next morning,
but he didn’t think his friend would complain when a friend needed him. He also
knew Mark’s alarm was set for six thirty anyway.
“The idea about California went over pretty good.” Trent
paused and sighed as he sat down, thankful for Mark. They’re friendship
remained easy despite the fact that Mark had a thing for Bev, who kept chasing
Trent. Trent pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on Molly. “But she wants to
see my house.”
“So take her.”
“It’s the pictures, you know.” He could put away all the
things that hinted at their life together, but that felt dishonest.
He heard Mark yawn. “Maybe they’ll help. Haven’t you told
her?”
“Oh, she knows. And it’s not just about what we used to
have.”
“Really?” Mark sounded more awake. They talked quite a bit
about how to deal with being alone. Mark didn’t like the single life, not
anymore, and Trent had never wanted to be single. “Old fires stirring?”
“I guess you could say that.” Trent drank his coffee standing
by the window, looking out at the yard and the roses Molly had planted five
years before. She’d been so excited about the house, starting a life together.
Mark took advantage of his friend’s silence and said, “So is
the trip about finding out what happened or about a trip with Molly?”
“And your question is?”
“I see.” Mark laughed. “Always practical and taking care of
two things at once.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I just want to be with her.
I can’t let her out of my sight this time.”
“Hey, man, don’t worry. Something like that doesn’t happen
twice.”
Trent paused, too long this time.
Mark finally asked, “Why are you worried?”
“Well, we don’t know why she left.” Trent finished his
coffee and took his cup to the kitchen.
Mark finally found an answer. “Her whole family ran. It
wasn’t you, Trent. I think you’re letting Judy get to you, too.”
“Thanks, but we’ll find out.” He told Mark he’d be by the
station with Molly sometime that day and hung up.
On the Internet’s yellow pages, he learned Arnold and Ellen
Anderson didn’t list their number in California, possibly more proof that they
were hiding. Or maybe they just didn’t want to be bothered. He found it
interesting that their number in Ridge City hadn’t been listed, either. He
grabbed the phone and called Mark’s cell.
“Can you do me a favor and find out who was listed on the
deed to the houses the Andersons owned?” he asked, hearing the distinct sound
of Mark’s front door slamming shut.
“Onto something?”
“Maybe. Just a hunch. They never listed their numbers, and
Molly sparked my curiosity when she asked if I thought her parents were into
something illegal.” He gave Mark the address of Molly’s house in California.
“Well, Trent, that’s one possibility, but not all people on
the run did something illegal.”
He hoped her parents were clean for her sake. Trent knew
Molly had enough to deal with, but Molly’s idea would make sense. It’s possible
they felt they needed to run because Molly was dating a cop who would
eventually find out their secret.
He grimaced.
Going
to spend the rest of her life with a cop.
Mark asked, “So we’re going on the assumption they were on
the run?”
“I think it’s a strong likelihood.” Trent made a few notes
of his own in his notebook. After ending the call, Trent wondered if he should call
Molly or just show up. It was seven thirty. He decided not to bother her yet,
so he mowed the lawn, started laundry, and picked up the house in case he did
let Molly come see it. On his way to the front door, he walked slowly and
scanned his home, trying to do so through Molly’s eyes. Wouldn’t some of this
bring back memories? He headed out a little before nine in khakis and a thick,
brown shirt. He didn’t want to mess with a sweater even if it was chilly
outside.
Trent caught sight of Molly as he pulled into her hotel
parking lot. She was returning from a walk, he guessed, in jeans and a
raincoat. He caught sight of a red silky shirt underneath. That girl always
looked vibrant with a splash of red, whether on her lips, her nails, or her
clothes. She could pull it off looking both sexy and refined.
He pulled the truck up slowly so he wouldn’t startle her and
rolled down the window.
“Hey there pretty lady, need a ride?” He greeted her with a
smile.
“Well, I usually don’t take rides from strangers, but you
are cute.”
He didn’t get called cute a lot, but he’d take that from
Molly. She went around to the passenger side and hopped in.
“Off to the station?” she asked.
“If you’re ready.”
She nodded and he turned the truck around. At their
destination, Trent opened the door for her, and she commented, “I’ve never been
in a police station before.”
She glanced sideways at
him.
“Or have I?”
He laughed and shook his head. She
didn’t
need Trent’s affirmation to know
she’d
probably visited this one many times before. Inside, they found Mark easily by
spotting his curly hair. They pulled up two chairs at his request. “Molly, does
the name Cindy Dean mean anything to you? Someone you knew or your parents
talked about?”
Immediately she
looked
questioningly at Trent
. He explained what he’d been thinking that
morning, and how she’d given him the idea. She repeated the name and said, “I’m
not sure if it sounds familiar or not. Who is she?”
“The house in California belonged to her before it came to
you after your parents passed away. They must have known her, but I can’t find
an address or number for her now.”
Trent wrote the information down in his notebook. “We might
find something when we look in that file cabinet you told me about. For now,
maybe we’ll get something out of the records we have here.”
That said, Trent took Molly to his desk and they opened her
file. They each took several interviews and started reading.
“Wow.” She said several minutes later. “The police did talk
to every neighbor, friend, and person who knew my family or saw us the last
week we were here.”
“But no one knew much about your parents’ history before
they moved to Ridge City.”
She enjoyed working together with Trent and noticed him
glance at her once in a while, usually catching her eying him. Forgetting she
was in a police station, she felt the urge to touch him, to reach over and put
her hand on his arm and see how he reacted. She reminded herself not to rush
things.
After an hour of reading, she knew
more
about her parents than they had ever told her
, but wasn’t sure if any of
it would help her regain her memory.
“So,” she said when she saw Trent take a break from the
paper in front of him, “They came to Ridge City in February of 1990 with a
little girl, bought a house, settled in, and were pretty quiet but did
eventually get involved in the community. But no one seemed to know much about
their past except that they were sweethearts in college.”
“Good summary,” he pointed out. “And I have to say there’s
not much about them to draw attention. I did find out their marriage
certificate was issued in Reno, so they could have driven in from anywhere.”
Their conversation paused while his eyes looked glazed, as
if Trent also forgot where they were. Several minutes seemed to pass. He said,
“Well, maybe we should think about driving down to your house in California.
How much more time did you want to spend here?”
“I—” Molly didn’t have an answer. “I want to know the truth,
I’m just ….”
“You can come back here. There’s nothing to fear down there,
Mol. Whatever we find, I’ll help you through it.”
She felt pulled between the desire to stay a while, get to
know Trent’s friends better, and the need to find the truth and possibly
remember them. “I guess we could leave tomorrow if that’s alright with you.”
She had to look away to calm herself. Thinking of leaving
struck panic in her, and she realized she was afraid she wouldn’t come back,
like last time. Only this time she would have Trent with her.
They left the station without much new information, but
Trent wasn’t too worried. He wanted to cover everything and take things slow,
hoping she’d remember. On the other hand, he didn’t want her to remember too
much, too soon. He wanted her to adjust as things came back to her. One other
reason existed that he didn’t want to come to their answers too soon – he
didn’t know what happened four years ago to make her run.
Something happened to make her lose her memory, something
probably involving her parents. He hoped it wasn’t something involving him,
though he couldn’t see how that was possible. Because he loved her so much, he
worried. He didn’t want to lose her again.
“Awe, it’s raining.” She yanked up her hood as they stepped
outside.
“Give it a minute, it’ll stop.” He took her arm and they
hurried to the truck. His hat kept him mostly dry, and once they were inside,
the rain stopped. “See. The weather’s never predictable in the spring, but it
changes enough to please everyone.” Something about his comment made him stop
and think about their situation, but he pushed aside his worries. Life is full
of stress and he just needed to keep going until they figured some of this out.
As they passed her hotel, Molly asked where they were
headed.
“It’s just the mill pond on the edge of town, but we went
there all the time.” He felt grateful as the sun came through the clouds and
brightened the day. When he glanced over, the sun sparkled on her hair. He
parked by the road and they got out. “Do you mind walking?”
“Not at all.” She smiled and he noticed she hadn’t covered
her freckles with make-up today. She wore lip gloss, making her red lips shine
and her amazing smile stand out even more. Her long black hair shone in the
sun, hanging in loose curls down her shoulders.
He surprised himself by holding out his hand, but then again
it was habit. She took it and asked, “We used to hold hands and walk through
here?”
He nodded, almost jumping at the feel of her hand in his.
They’d been so careful not to touch since they saw each other that first day.
He had put that space between them, knowing he was a stranger to her, and also
knowing how he would react to touching her again. Just like before, her hand
fit into his as they entwined their fingers. She didn’t seem to think twice
about it.
The path they walked on beside the small pond had been
formed over the years by all the people taking walks here. Blackberry briars
grew on one side of the path with new green leaves while cattails stuck up out
of the water on the other side. Bushes were covered in buds, promises of things
to come, and small spring flowers were blooming in clumps.
“Red winged black birds.” Molly’s eyes looked above them
where the small birds flew, trying to catch the red under their wings. “I
haven’t heard them in a while. They sound so pretty.”
“Have you remembered anything else?” He didn’t add
besides
the kiss.
He didn’t want to mention the word ‘kiss’ to her.
She huffed out a breath, a signature Molly sign of
frustration. “No, but I think I’ve been trying too hard. When I remembered the
flowers, I wasn’t trying at all. It just was suddenly in my head, like I knew
about it all along.”
Their slow pace stopped altogether and they stood facing
each other. Her brown eyes shone as she looked up into his face, her lips
slightly parted. Her eyes had always been so expressive, usually holding
laughter and a joy of life, and sometimes turning darker with anger or hurt. He
especially loved her curious look that somehow appeared mischievous at the same
time. Now her eyes searched his, looked over his face, lingered on his mouth,
and returned to his eyes asking him an unspoken question.
Her roaming eyes sent heat throughout him. He felt the need
to dance around as if he stood on hot coals. His hand went to her face, his
fingertips touching her cheekbone and his palm holding her jaw, where he always
thought his hand molded perfectly. She leaned into his hand, her eyelids
fluttering, but she kept her eyes open to look at him. She had such long,
sweeping eyelashes.