Julia cried out as the blunt truth slammed against her chest. Ryder gripped her hands.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
She squeezed his hands. “Stop. It’s not your fault. I attracted this stalker somehow. I let him into our lives.”
Ryder straightened his shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Let’s put the blame where it belongs—on this maniac who’s been terrorizing you and has now snatched your daughter. And let’s deal with him.”
“How? We don’t know where he is. Or who he is.”
“He’ll find you, Julia.”
“He wants me.”
A chill zinged up her spine, and she hunched her shoulders. Ryder pulled her into his arms, which represented her only safe harbor these days. He wove his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back to look into her face.
“We’ll get her back, and then I’ll keep both of you safe forever…or die trying.”
Circumstantial Memories
Carol Ericson
To Neil, for these small hours,
these little wonders
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carol Ericson lives with her husband and two sons in Southern California, home of state-of-the-art cosmetic surgery, wild freeway chases, palm trees bending in the Santa Ana winds and a million amazing stories. These stories, along with hordes of virile men and feisty women clamor for release from Carol’s head. It makes for some interesting headaches until she sets them free to fulfill their destinies and her readers’ fantasies. To find out more about Carol, her books and her strange headaches, please visit her Web site at www.carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Julia Rousseau—For four years, she’s had no memory of a past that gave her a four-year-old daughter, but when Ryder McClintock materializes, memories of danger—and desire—flood her senses.
Ryder McClintock—When he returns to Colorado on leave from his latest covert ops assignment, he’s stunned to discover the woman he loves…with no memory of their past together. Now he must reclaim her love, and his daughter, before a menace from Julia’s past destroys their future.
Jeremy Scott—Julia’s ex-husband and Ryder’s ex-coworker died in a fiery explosion four years ago, but his evil continues to overshadow their lives.
Dr. Jim Brody—Julia’s therapist seems to have more interest in getting close to Julia than helping her recover her memories.
Deputy Sheriff Zack Ballard—Do his suspicious actions link him to the threats against Julia, or does he have another secret?
Charlie Malone—This shy, bumbling mama’s boy has a crush on Julia and resents the new man in her life.
Rosie Fletcher—A dead-ringer for Julia, she holds an important key to Julia’s safety, but her amorous adventures put her life in danger.
Shelby Rousseau—Julia’s daughter is the one person who kept Julia grounded during the dark days of her amnesia. But as the terror that engulfs Julia spreads to her daughter, will it bring Julia and Ryder closer together or tear them apart?
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Julia glanced in her rearview mirror at the car gaining on her and muttered, “Zut alors.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t know she could speak French.
She tried out a few more phrases, clean ones this time, and the words tumbled from her lips in an accent worthy of Pepé Le Pew. Shelby would be thrilled her mom could talk like one of her favorite cartoon characters.
And Dr. Brody, Jim, would be thrilled with this latest discovery—another key to her past.
The glare from the insistent headlights illuminated her car again as she pulled out of the curve. Why did this guy have his brights on? She accelerated on the straightaway, gripping the wheel with clammy hands.
This highway through the mountains always gave her the jitters, ever since she plowed over the guardrail almost four years ago in a howling blizzard.
Her neighbors, the Stokers, cautioned her against taking night classes at the university to prevent her from driving this road after dark, but she had to move beyond her fears. Besides she needed this class to finish her general education requirements and start taking her upper-division psychology courses. She’d just taken her final exam and opted out of the summer session, so she wouldn’t have to make this drive at night until the fall.
The car behind her honked and she jumped, jerking the steering wheel to the right. Go around me, you moron. She didn’t plan on going any faster than the speed limit. Maybe he’d pass her on the next straightaway. All of the rush-hour traffic had cleared, leaving a handful of cars negotiating the turns and bends between Durango and Silverhill.
Coming out of the next turn, Julia buzzed down the window and waved her arm to motion the car around her. She eased off the gas pedal as the car made its move to her left. The sedan pulled into the empty oncoming traffic lane and slowed down next to her.
With her heart galloping, she glanced into the dark car as the driver rolled down the passenger window. A man with black hair and sunglasses leaned toward the open window and yelled. The wind snatched his words, but she could just make out, “Pull over. Flat tire. Lug nuts.”
She had a flat tire? The car dropped back and slid in behind her again. Turning down the radio with trembling fingers, she listened for any unusual thumping on the road. Her little car rolled smoothly on the asphalt, taking each turn with ease. How could she have a flat?
Biting her bottom lip, she peered into the rearview mirror at the blue sedan still riding her tail. Was this some kind of trick to get her to pull off the road? Maybe if the guy had a family with him she’d follow his advice, but she didn’t have any intention of stopping for some single guy in the middle of the night, especially some single guy wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. Did he think he was Jack Nicholson or something?
Over the past three years, she’d finally put the freaks and weirdos behind her. She didn’t need to go looking for them.
She sped up to put distance between her car and the dark sedan behind her. Her tires squealed as she took the last curve on the highway and her car shuddered in the back. She gasped and squeezed the steering wheel. Maybe she did have a flat.
The light from Ben Pickett’s service station glowed at the bottom of the hill, and Julia’s pulse slowed to a steady beat. At nine o’clock Ben would still be working.
Careening into the parking lot, she angled her car in front of the brightly lit market. She hunched down in the seat and watched the dark sedan speed past the service