Page 18 of Ghosts From Christmas Past

Her gaze traveled to the bag of clothes left by Melissa. For the first time since she’d awakened, it felt as if the stark room was closing in around her. It might be a nice change to get out of her nightgown.

She climbed out of bed and reached for the bag. Several dresses were inside along with a couple of pairs of jeans and sweaters. Charlie grabbed one of the sweaters and a pair of jeans and went to the restroom to change.

The emerald green turtleneck covered the scar on her throat, but the woman staring back at her in the mirror was as much a mystery today as she was when Charlie had first caught a glimpse of herself. She turned away from the stranger in the mirror and left the room. Someone had closed the curtains. The room was dark. She went over to the sliding glass door and opened the curtains. A small patio led out to the courtyard. She slid open the door and stepped outside.

The mountains in the distance had a calming effect. She sensed they always had, a reminder that no matter what lay ahead, no matter how dreadful the memories coming her way became, God was in control.

Something in the shadows moved, and she focused on the tree where she’d seen the movement. There was someone there. A man. Dressed in black clothing. His back was to her. A knit cap was pulled low on his head. He was definitely not a worker.

She must have made a noise because the man turned. All she could make out from his face were his eyes. Dark. Piercing. Familiar?

He saw her standing by the door and rushed toward her. “Charlie?” A smile creased his face. It faded as she backed away and slid the door closed behind her. He reached the patio and pounded on the glass. Charlie locked the door and shut the curtains before she turned on her heel and ran.

The deputy must have heard the noise because he came into the room. “What’s wrong?” The concern on Sam’s face was clear.

“Someone is outside my room.” She turned back and inched open the curtains. No one was there. The man had disappeared.

Deputy Crenshaw took her arm and led her out of the room.

“Where are we going?” she asked when they kept moving down the hall.

The deputy opened Dr. Montgomery’s office. The room was empty. “Go inside and lock the door. Don’t open it until I come back for you.” The urgency in his voice grabbed her attention.

He closed the door, and she hurriedly clicked the lock. The room faced out to the front of the building. Outside, the day appeared later than it was, due to the gray clouds that hung low.

Charlie felt exposed despite the protection of the deputy and the locked door.

She hurried to the window and closed the blinds, then she sat down at the desk and tried to control the fear that had taken root inside her since she’d returned to the land of the living.

Charlie placed her head in her hands and brought the man’s face up in her mind. He’d called her by her nickname. He knew her. But did she know him? Those dark eyes seemed familiar. Was it because he was the man who killed her family and left her for dead? Or was she simply grasping at any possibility?

She closed her eyes and tried to recall the details of the crime scene photo Dylan had showed her.

The image appeared imprinted on her brain, and she pulled in several breaths. If only she could go back there, perhaps she could remember something more about the man who attacked her. She rubbed her temple where the shards of pain grew stronger. She’d noticed the pain when she focused on the photos before, her brain struggling to deal with the horror of the day.

Blood. So much of it. All around the room. Near the tree. The Christmas balls scattered in it. Covered by it.

“Come on,” she murmured to herself. “Where are you?”

You belong to me. How could you do it?

Her heart raced. Those words. His words.

“You belong to me and you always will.” Blood covered the knife in his hand. Her parents’ blood. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Couldn’t look at his face.

Concentrate.

She tried to, but all she saw was the knife. He’d grabbed her. Pulled her against his body.

How tall was he?

The pain in her head increased as scattered pieces of her memory returned. He was taller than she. As tall as the man she’d seen outside her room? She couldn’t be sure, but of one thing Charlie was sure—if she didn’t remember the man who had killed her parents soon, she might not get another chance. Not if the killer had a say in it.

???

“Dad, it’s Dylan.” More than ever, he needed his father’s wisdom. Strength. Courage. He was so mixed up inside.

“What’s going on?” Carl Parker asked his son. No matter what Dylan was going through, or what Carl had going, he always had time to help his son work through a problem.

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