Unraveling The Past

After an aggressive form of breast cancer had almost ended her life, she had quit her job as a biochemist in Boston and returned to her hometown of Godspeed to train as a local law-enforcement officer. Her parents couldn’t quite believe she was throwing away her Ivy League education to become a sheriff’s deputy, but she needed to feel more alive, more exhilarated. She needed to mask the dread she felt inside, knowing that her cancer could return to snatch her away at any moment. So she had jumped at the opportunity to go undercover in one of the most notorious criminal gangs in the Midwest. Tyler hadn’t wanted her to take the assignment. He’d said that she wasn’t ready, but she relished the chance to put herself at the heart of danger. She wanted to live every day as though it were her last.

Tyler’s face creased in thought. “I guess if we dated, you must know a lot about me. Why did I leave the SEALs to come back to Godspeed?” He looked down at his uniform. “Why did I swap black ops for writing traffic tickets?”

“Actually,” she said, “you do way more than write traffic tickets. Missouri has one of the worst meth problems in the US, and Godspeed has lost way too many residents to addiction. You came home to make a difference, to give us the benefit of your expertise and training. You’re a great sheriff, Tyler, you should know that. The whole of Yardley County is united behind you.”

“And when I came to the prison today, you were on an undercover assignment in a meth gang?”

“Yes,” she replied. “My background in biochemistry made me an ideal candidate to infiltrate the gang and learn their cook methods and means of distribution. I’ve been undercover for over six months now, and I was really close to meeting the kingpin of the whole operation.” She dropped her voice. “But somebody sold me out. When I arrived at the prison this evening, the gang members knew exactly who I was—my name, my rank, everything.”

Tyler listened closely. “Were you wired?”

“No. Until you truly earn their trust, the gang leaders check everybody for wires, cell phones and weapons. I agreed to go undercover, knowing that backup wouldn’t be an option if ever I got into trouble.”

“So how did you call for help?”

“Right after one of The Scorpions confronted me, a rival gang busted in and started shooting. It gave me enough time to make a run for it and grab somebody’s cell phone from a table as I passed. I called 9-1-1 first, and then I called you. I saw you arrive within ten minutes, but it was another five before I managed to find you.”

“Where is that cell phone now?” Tyler’s voice was so commanding, she almost forgot about his memory loss. “We should be trawling through its contacts.”

She held it up. “I have it right here. I switched it off just in case the gang can track it. I was going to discuss the matter with Chief Crenshaw when he arrived at the hospital. A nurse told me that he called to check if I was here. The SWAT team told him I’d vanished, so he tracked me down. He’s on his way over.”

Not a flinch of recognition passed over Tyler’s face when she mentioned Chief Crenshaw, despite him and the chief being well acquainted.

“George Crenshaw is Godspeed’s chief of police,” she continued. “He’s heavily involved in the Southern Missouri Drug Task Force, so I figured he’d know what to do with the cell phone.”

Tyler’s impassive eyes betrayed his lack of understanding. “You mentioned that back at the old prison. What is the Southern Missouri Drug Task Force?”

Joanna shook her head, admonishing herself. “I’m sorry. I’ve been really selfish. I shouldn’t be discussing this case with you when you should be concentrating on your own health.”

“Hey,” he said in his usual unhurried way. “No apology necessary. If I want to jog my memory, I need somebody reminding me what’s happening.”

The sudden sound of raised voices in the hallway caught Joanna’s attention. She recognized them as those of Chief George Crenshaw and the mayor of Godspeed, Harley Landon. And they were calling her name.

When the door to the room swung open, she knew instantly that something was wrong. Both men looked at her with angry eyes.

“Deputy Joanna Graham,” Chief Crenshaw said, pulling cuffs from his pocket. “I am placing you under arrest.”

* * *

Tyler automatically positioned himself between the two men and Joanna. “What’s the charge?”

“Police corruption and drug trafficking,” the bearded man said. “And that’s just for starters.”

Judging by his uniform, Tyler knew that this man must be Godspeed’s chief of police.

“Evidence recovered from the meth lab, located in the old Southern Missouri State Prison, shows that Deputy Graham is on the gang’s payroll,” the chief said. He stared directly at Joanna. “You sold out didn’t you, Deputy?”

Joanna pushed her palms forward as if trying to physically shun the accusation. “No!” she protested. “That’s not true. If I’d sold out, why would I leave evidence behind?”

“I’m guessing you got sloppy,” he replied. “For someone with a Harvard education, you sure can be dumb sometimes.”

Tyler saw a flash of resentment in the police chief’s eyes, and he didn’t like it. This vendetta seemed personal. He knew that he should recognize these men, particularly the ruddy faced, uniformed police chief. But he didn’t. And it put him at a disadvantage.

“Back off,” Tyler said, becoming defensive. “Let’s leave personal insults out of this. What exactly did you find to incriminate Deputy Graham?”

The chief slid his eyes over to Tyler. “The SWAT team recovered handwritten instructions, detailing exactly how many payments this deputy was due to receive in return for safe passage of meth out of Missouri. It gave me enough probable cause to obtain a search warrant for her home.” He eyeballed Joanna. “I found approximately two hundred thousand dollars in cash hidden in your closet. Now where do you suppose that came from, Deputy?”

Joanna’s face was stricken with horror. “No, no, no,” she repeated. “Somebody must have planted that there.”

Tyler’s mind began to work overtime. Leaving two hundred grand lying around your home didn’t seem like the smart thing to do, especially for someone with a Harvard degree.

“Chief,” he said. “Have you considered that Deputy Graham might be the victim of a setup? Handwritten notes don’t really prove anything. Somebody could’ve deliberately left them behind before going to her home and leaving the cash.”

The police chief softened his expression. “I’m sorry, Tyler. Young Dr. Sinclair told me that you took a blow to the head today and tried to insist that I shouldn’t bother you this evening, but I have a job to do. I’ve been led to understand that you might not remember me.” He exchanged glances with the other man in the room, who was a few years older and chubbier than the chief. “I’m Police Chief George Crenshaw, and this is the mayor of Godspeed, Harley Landon.”

Tyler knew that these men currently saw him as weak, so he had to change their perception.

“Yes, I know who you are,” he lied. “My memory loss was only temporary. I’m fully recovered.”

A slow smile spread across the chief’s face. “Well, I’m mighty pleased to hear it. You had us worried for a while there.” His smile faded. “I wish I didn’t have to do this to one of your deputies, but I have no choice. She needs to be remanded into custody until the Feds arrive to take over. I’d rather investigate the case myself, but you know how it is. Small-town chiefs like me get pushed aside when it suits the FBI.”

Tyler noticed Joanna rest her forehead in her palm. “This can’t be happening,” she muttered.

“Why don’t you let me run her in?” Tyler said. “I’d like to be the one to do that.”

At this point, the mayor intervened. “Thanks for the offer, Sheriff Beck, but that won’t be necessary. Chief Crenshaw and I will do all the paperwork.”

Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Since when did the mayor of Godspeed assist the police with arrests and paperwork? I know I forgot a few things, but I’m pretty sure that small-town mayors don’t have that kind of authority.”

The paunchy, middle-aged mayor reddened and cast his eyes downward. “Ah...well...sometimes I just like to go along for the ride.” He put his hands in the air. “But you’re right, Sheriff. Chief Crenshaw will handle all the paperwork.”

Tyler addressed the chief. “Where will Joanna be held?”

“She’ll be in the cell at the Godspeed police station for the night.” He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “It’s my station, so I should take her in.”

Tyler had to think on his feet. “Come on, George,” he said with what he hoped was a note of familiarity. “Joanna’s my responsibility. At least let me take her to the cell and hand her over to you officially. Whatever she’s done, she’s under my jurisdiction.”

“Well, that’s not strictly true now, is it, Sheriff?” answered George, rubbing his neck. “The undercover operation at the old prison comes under my leadership, not yours.”

“But she’s my deputy,” Tyler said. “I’d like to deliver her to the cell myself. Why don’t you meet us at Godspeed station? Let’s not fight over jurisdiction. Not today.”

Chief Crenshaw thought for a moment, smiled, stepped toward Tyler and patted him on the back. “If you’re sure you’re feeling better, then I guess I can allow you to run her in. Has the hospital cleared you to leave?”

Tyler nodded firmly. “One of the docs gave me a clean bill of health,” he said, taking his cuffs and securing them around Joanna’s wrists. She flinched under his touch, but she didn’t put up a fight. “My cruiser is right outside. I’ll have Deputy Graham at the station in no time.”

Chief Crenshaw opened the door. “I’ll see you there,” he said walking purposely down the corridor with the mayor, seemingly anxious to start the process. “Don’t dawdle now.”

“I won’t,” Tyler said, pretending to adjust Joanna’s cuffs while watching the men enter the elevator. “I’m right behind you.”

He then checked the vicinity for Dr. Sinclair, spotting him intently studying brain scan images in a small adjacent room. Creeping along the hallway, Tyler approached the elevator and pressed the button, desperately hoping that the doctor wouldn’t see him leave.

His outward demeanor was cool and calm, but inwardly, he was battling some pretty intense emotions. His life had been turned upside down. Whether he liked it or not, he was the sheriff of a county he thought he’d left behind long ago. He’d swapped clandestine missions in far-off lands for local law enforcement in Yardley County, nestled in the boot heel of Missouri. He had been raised in Godspeed by his grandmother after his parents died in a traffic accident when he was just eight years old. His old-fashioned grandmother had taught him to be honest and upstanding and to always trust his gut. He wished she were still alive, able to reassure him that he was doing the right thing, that he wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of his life. But in the absence of both his grandmother and his memory, his gut was the only thing he could trust.

He steered Joanna into the elevator. “Is your memory really back?” she asked. He saw the desperate hope written on her face.

He shook his head. “I lied.”

“Even if you don’t remember me, Tyler, you know me,” she said, facing him with wide eyes, the color of warm dark caramel. “I would never betray you or the sheriff’s department.”

“I think I believe you.”

“But you’re taking me in anyway.”

He leaned in close. “I’m taking you someplace where we can figure this out together.” He reached around and took the cell phone that she still held in one hand behind her back. “And I’m hoping that this will give us some clues about who’s behind the setup.”

Her face broke into a huge, grateful smile. “You really mean it? You’ll help me?”

“We’ll help each other,” he replied. “With my memory shot to pieces, it looks like I need you as much as you need me.”

He silently prayed that Joanna was as trustworthy as he thought, because if she was lying to him, he was in a whole heap of trouble. If he was caught helping her evade arrest, there was more than a good chance that both he and his deputy would be spending Christmas Day behind bars.

TWO

Joanna walked toward the exit of Godspeed General Hospital, past the huge twinkling tree in the foyer and out into the frigid evening air. The festive lights of Godspeed lay before them, reminding her that everyone else in town was preparing for happy days ahead.

“We don’t have much time,” Tyler said, removing her cuffs and sitting her in the back of the cruiser. “In about twenty minutes, the chief will start to get suspicious that we haven’t arrived at the station. Can you direct me to my house? I’m hoping that I keep spare weapons there.” He scratched his head. “It’s really hard to keep second-guessing myself. This is kinda crazy.”

“Head for the courthouse,” she said. “Your house isn’t far from there.”

Tyler slid into the driver’s seat, took off his hat and slung it on the seat next to him. He then pulled onto the road, all the while rubbing a hand over his forehead. He looked tense and uneasy, and Joanna’s conscience was pricked.

“Listen, Tyler,” she said, leaning forward. “You don’t have to do this for me. You could lose your job. Or worse. You’re committing a felony by helping me to escape.”

“I’m well aware of the implications of what I’m doing,” Tyler said. “But I don’t think you’d be safe in police custody, especially as we don’t know who set you up. You’re fortunate that the rival gang chose today to launch an attack, because otherwise I don’t think you’d be sitting here now.”

Joanna shivered, remembering staring down the barrel of a gun. “I guess I was blessed today.” She closed her eyes and tried to give silent thanks to God, but the words refused to come, so she gave up.

“I think The Scorpions intended to kill you and then leave a false trail of evidence to implicate you in their criminal activities,” Tyler said. “A corrupt deputy would really undermine the undercover operation. But now that you’re still alive, the gang will be looking for you in police custody.”

The car wound through the streets of Godspeed, and she noticed the look on Tyler’s face change as he passed the familiar sights: the library, the veterans’ memorial, the grocery stores, the high school, all lit by the soft glow of Christmas lights. A heavy sense of history always lay thickly in the air in Godspeed. The town had hardly changed since she was a girl, and she guessed that Tyler was seeing it as if for the first time in years.

“This must be weird for you, huh?” she said.

He didn’t answer for a few moments. He continued to drive, heading for the courthouse, stopping briefly outside the church where she knew the funerals of his parents had taken place over thirty years ago. After Tyler’s grandmother died, he left Godspeed to join the military. When he returned, most of the town folks who knew him were shocked. They had assumed there was nothing left for him to come back to. “I feel like I’m in no-man’s-land,” he said. “I can’t move forward and I can’t go back.” He cruised toward the courthouse. “Everything looks the same, but I don’t fit in. I don’t belong in Godspeed anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” she said strongly. “You gotta trust me on this. Yardley County is a much better place since you became our sheriff.” She pointed to a side street, dark and quiet. “Turn here. Your house is at the end. The one with the motorcycle in the driveway.”

Tyler’s eyebrows shot up. “I ride a motorcycle?”

“On your days off, yeah,” she said. “I guess you’re a lot cooler than you thought.”

He rolled to a stop along the curb and checked the street both ways. Then he settled his gaze on her, and she fought to suppress a tug somewhere deep inside. Tyler’s crystal-clear eyes, neither gray nor blue but somewhere in between, had taken her breath away the very first time she’d seen them. And they had never lost their ability to draw her in. The sheriff was beyond handsome, with his sandy-brown hair, matching stubble and olive skin. She could scarcely believe it when he had shown an interest in her. She had so wanted him to be her Mr. Right, but it wasn’t meant to be, and she had never dropped her guard long enough for him to get close. She infuriated him with her sometimes reckless attitude. Yet Tyler had no true idea why she liked to feel adrenaline course through her veins. He knew of her cancer history, but she had never divulged its profound effect on her. She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want anyone’s pity. She just wanted to feel normal.

“Come inside with me,” he said, searching through his keys to find the one that would fit the lock.

“Take the car around back,” she said. “You keep a key underneath a stone in the backyard. I know where it is.”

“You seem to know a lot about me, Joanna. An awful lot.”

“I guess that’s a good thing right now.”

“I guess so. Stay alert and let’s keep quiet. We’ll take some essentials and hit the road.”

“Where will we go?”

“I haven’t figured out that part yet,” he said, starting up the car again and navigating around his motorcycle in the driveway, heading to the back of the house. “I can only take this one step at a time.”

* * *

Tyler was disappointed at the décor in his home. The living room was filled with hand painted, vintage-style wooden furniture, the kind he’d grown up with in his grandmother’s house, and the chairs around the fireplace were high backed and upholstered in floral fabric. It was a home that oozed simple Southern charm, yet the style seemed so unlike anything he would choose.

Joanna must have noted the look of surprise on his face. “Laura from the furniture store picked out most of these pieces for you,” she said. “You told her you wanted a home just like the one you grew up in.”

“I did?” he said, looking around, noticing familiar items from his past dotted here and there. One item in particular caught his eye: a photograph of six smiling men, his buddies on the last mission he recalled—Dark Skies. That was where he belonged. He was a SEAL. This home was all wrong for him. There was even a Christmas tree in the corner of the room, decorated with silver stars. He never normally bothered with festive decorations. He gave thanks for the gift of God’s son each year, but the adornments of the season had never held sway over him.

“What do you want me to do?” Joanna asked, snapping him out of his daze. “We have to be quick.”

He headed for the stairs. “I’m going to change out of this uniform. Do you know if I have a gun cabinet?”

“Yes. You keep the key on a chain in the closet.”

“Good. Get the key, find a bag and take everything in that cabinet. Then pack some food. We might need it.”

He took the stairs two at a time and walked in through the first door he saw. It was the bathroom.

“How can I not remember my own house?” he muttered, taking the next doorway along, leading into a bedroom that he knew must be his. A large picture hung above the bed showing the insignia of the SEALs: an eagle holding a navy anchor, a trident and a flintlock-style pistol. Underneath the insignia were the words The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday, one of the many mottos of the SEALs. Yes, this was his private space.

He found some jeans and a sweatshirt in the closet and discarded his uniform, instantly feeling better for having freed himself of the sheriff’s clothes. They didn’t seem to fit right. He spied a safe in the corner of the room and stopped dead in his tracks. What code would he use? Bending to one knee, he punched in the ID number of his old SEAL unit and smiled as the door beeped open. Inside the safe was a handgun, a cell phone, his passport and an envelope full of cash. His smile grew even wider. It was just like him to be prepared for anything. He placed the items in a large black bag, along with some spare clothes and stood to consider if he had forgotten anything.

He instantly froze when he caught sight of a shadow though the window. A man was attempting to hide behind a tree in his backyard. Tyler broke into a run, dashing down the stairs to check on Joanna. She was waiting in the living room for him, a zipped bag at her feet.

“I packed the things you asked for, but there’s not much food—”

He cut her off. “Somebody’s outside in the yard. We gotta go.”

“Were we followed?”

“It looks that way.” He scanned the room, snatching the motorcycle key from a hook by the front door. He then picked up his bag and slipped his arms through the straps like a backpack. Joanna fastened her bag in the same way, tightening the straps around her slender frame.

“We’ll take the motorcycle,” he said. “If this guy’s got a car, we should be able to outrun him.”

“You want me to drive?” she asked, reaching for the key.

“No.”

“You remember how to ride?”

He flashed a grin. “There are some things you never forget.”

He recalled seeing two helmets on the enclosed porch and retrieved them, handing the smaller one to Joanna and slipping the other over his head. While steering her to the door, he remembered something vital. He quickly doubled back and picked up a framed photo from the bureau. Smashing the glass on the wood, he quickly flicked the picture of his SEAL buddies out of its frame and slipped it into his pocket. If he had to accept that he was no longer a SEAL, he would carry his past around with him.

The air outside had chilled even further, and Tyler felt his heartbeat pick up pace. The helmet he wore fit snugly, and he could hear the sound of his own blood whooshing around his temples. The remains of his headache still pulsed, and he imagined his brain struggling to repair its damaged temporal lobe. How could a chunk of his life be plunged into darkness, while other memories remained as clear as day? His instinct told him that he could trust this beautiful woman by his side, and his heart told him that he cared about her. But he couldn’t be sure. He would need to stay on his guard, just in case he had gotten it badly wrong.

He closed the front door with a soft click and started across the lawn, hoping that the intruder would remain around back until the motorcycle roared to life. A creaking noise caused him to spin quickly. The intruder was at the side of the house, opening the gate that Tyler had bolted behind his cruiser. The pair locked eyes, neither blinking, neither moving for a second or two. He recognized the man’s face. The pockmarked skin and deep-set eyes were familiar, and he knew that under the woolen hat was a bald head.

Joanna grabbed the back of his sweatshirt. “It’s Crusher,” she gasped. “He chased us at the prison.”

Tyler pulled his gun from its holster and raised it. Joanna did the same. With two guns trained on him, Crusher’s eyes widened, and he raised his own weapon in response.

“Wait,” he yelled. “Don’t shoot.” He lowered his gun. “I’m not here to hurt you. Let’s talk.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. As if he was going to fall for that.

“Stay right there!” Tyler ordered, as he positioned himself on his motorcycle and waited for Joanna to settle on the pillion.

“If you try to follow us, we’ll have no choice but to shoot,” he shouted before starting up the engine and drowning out Crusher’s reply.

“Keep your gun trained on him,” he yelled to Joanna, holstering his own weapon. “And hold on to me tight.”

With that, he roared down the street and headed for the open road.

* * *

Joanna leaned against the wall of the gas station while Tyler filled up the motorcycle. It was after midnight, and they had crossed the state line into Arkansas, traveling on clear roads like a bullet. But she was frozen to the core. Tyler had given her his padded jacket, yet her teeth still chattered.

Tyler walked over to her, the visor of his helmet threaded through his forearm and resting in the crook of his elbow. He handed her a cup of coffee, purchased from a machine, and she took it gratefully. The warmth of the cardboard cup in her hands was exquisite.