Page 53 of Sheltered by the Lawman

Chapter 17

CULL SPREAD THE pictures across the table. “Look at these. I know this will trigger something.” He watched Monica glance at the shots of Yates lying in a pool of his own blood.

“I-I don’t think I can do this.” Her cheeks flamed red and the coffee sloshed over in her cup. If she was a killer, then he needed to give up his badge because when he looked at her all he saw was a woman who was wrapped up in something way over her head.

It didn’t help that he was attracted to her. He could easily be led by his balls and not his brain. “I know it’s hard, and gruesome, but it’s important that you tell me anything that comes to mind. As little as you may think it is, it might be something big.” He was holding out hope that she recalled something—anything—that would give him a clue. He could track anyone, but as of right now, he was slamming against a wall where evidence was concerned. It was as if someone erased every clue.

Setting her cup down, she stood over the table, her fingers clenching the chair until she was white-knuckled. She scanned the pictures…staring at each one for a lengthy time, even picking up a couple, but she’d drop them back onto the table and moved on. When she was finished, she looked at him, shrugging. “Nothing. Not one itty bitty little memory. How could this be my life if I don’t feel anything? This man,” she pointed at the picture of Yates taken from an ad he’d placed in the newspaper. “I don’t know him. Why doesn’t any of this click?”

He stacked up the pictures and stuck them in a folder. “It’s okay.”

“My dreams though. They seem so real. That’s where I feel a connection.”

“Tell me about them.” Maybe they would give him a clue.

“I was walking down a sidewalk, I had coffee, then I ran into a woman. She had lots of jewelry, a fur coat, and a purse. Then somehow I was on a bench sleeping, cold and hungry. I know…it makes no sense, but it feels so real.”

“You said a fur coat?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you give me a detailed description of the woman and man who show up in your visions?” This could very well be the rung to the ladder that would bring them closer to nailing the asshole who tried to kill her. Cull would bet his eye teeth that the widow knew something, if she wasn’t in on it. Had she found out that Yates was cheating and she feared a scandal would harm her chances in getting elected?

“I can try.”

“Whatever you can give me is fine.” He pulled out his small notebook and pen. “Let’s have a seat and you can slowly give me details.”

Once she was seated, he watched her close her eyes. “Tall…beautiful. Her hair, it wasn’t real. A platinum blonde wig. She had on white slacks.” She opened her eyes.

“Was there anything about her that was different? Anything that stood out?”

“Outside of the wig? The jewelry she wore. I found it odd that someone that rich was in a bad neighborhood.”

He blinked. “Wait…a bad neighborhood? Where?”

“I didn’t realize I knew that. Wait…a Chinese restaurant with a large flashing sign advertising sweet and sour chicken. That’s where I saw her. Peking. That’s the name.”

“Not too far from your apartment.” He recognized the place she was referring to.

She shrugged. “And then, just like that, my brain goes back to fuzziness. I need more coffee?”

He watched her get up and go into the kitchen, starting another pot. “What about the man?”

“Tall. Stocky. Mean looking. He was dressed in black.” She looked at him. “That’s not much. I’m sorry.”

“It’s better than nothing. What it means is that your memory is coming back.” He tapped the pen against the notebook.

“You know I’m not an expert, but maybe my lover’s—” her nose wrinkled. “wife wanted me dead. Do you think when she found out her husband was sleeping with me she couldn’t stand the thought and came to my apartment and tried to kill me?”

He sat back into the chair. “Good point, but a woman like Widow Yates doesn’t get her hands dirty.”

“So, she hired someone?”

“Yeah. Possible.”

Once the coffee was brewed, she poured them each a fresh cup. “It’s frustrating.” She rolled her finger around the rim of her cup. “I want to help you. If it isn’t bad enough to feel like I’m suspended in the darkness, I could be a very horrible person.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Did you think I was faking my memory loss?”

“It had crossed my mind,” he said, wanting to take the frown away from her.

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