Page 100 of Fatal Witness

Dani leaned toward him. “You’re a good man, Mark Lassiter. Don’t let the darkness rule you.”

He held her gaze. “You just don’t realize how much darkness is there.”

She shook her head. “What you don’t realize is how much light is there.”

49

The next morning Dani lay curled in a ball, halfway between sleeping and waking. She wasn’t certain where she was, but the smell of bacon tickled her nose, and sunlight peeked through the blinds. It was a place she’d been before. A place she didn’t want to leave.

“Good morning, sweet pea.”

“Mama?”

“Hmmm. Always remember Mama lovesyou...”

Something inside her broke, and tears filled Danielle’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

Dani’s eyes popped open. For a minute she didn’t move, other than to breathe. She wanted to hold on to the dream. But had she been dreaming? It’d seemed so real. And the tears had brought relief.

Her mind had taken her back home to her mother. But why?

Justice. That’s what her mind was seeking. She would not rest until she got justice for her parents, and now Keith. But first she had to jar those memories loose.

Dani climbed out of bed, and her gaze fell on the sketch pad. She picked it up and flipped to the drawings of people she’d feltcompelled to draw before leaving Montana. She hadn’t shown these to Alex and Nonny. She would today.

After dressing, she grabbed the sketch pad and her computer and took them to the kitchen, expecting to find Judith frying bacon. Except the kitchen was empty, and no one had been cooking. The smells had been part of the dream.

But where was everyone? It was seven thirty. Then she remembered everyone was going to the late church service, and they’d all insisted that Judith stay out of the kitchen—everyone would eat cereal this morning.

She set the computer on the table.Coffee first. Dani made a pot, and while she waited, she typeddissociative amnesiainto a search engine, hoping to find something new.

Dani looked up as Mark came into the kitchen, and her heart did the flipping thing it’d done last night when he kissed her. And then he’d ruined it all by trying to take it back.

Mark was so wounded, though, and she wanted so badly to help him. No. She wanted to heal his heart.

“Oh, good, you’ve made coffee.” He grabbed a cup from the cabinet, then filled it. “Looking up something?”

“I was trying to find a therapy to help me remember what happened that night.”

“Did you?”

“Not really. It’s about the same as what a psychologist in college suggested—hypnosis as a therapy. When that didn’t work, she suggested art therapy and perusing old photos of my family and revisiting my roots to see if places I knew as a child might trigger memories.”

Mark brought the cup of coffee to the table and sat across from her. “And ...?”

“I was already into sculpting, so that obviously wasn’t working. And considering I had no photos and no clue of where I wasborn, I couldn’t do that. When I decided to come to Pearl Springs, I expected it would unlock my memories.”

“And it hasn’t.” Mark rubbed his thumb over the top of the cup handle. “Why don’t you talk to Mae again? And Ben and Morgan will be here this afternoon. Ask them what they remember about you.”

“Morgan may remember something, but Ben would’ve been practically grown when I was a kid. I doubt he remembers anything.”

The door opened, and Alex entered the kitchen. “I thought I smelled coffee.”

She soon joined them at the table with a full cup in her hand and nodded toward the computer. “Searching for anything in particular?”

“New therapies for regaining memories.”

“And?”

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