Except... maybe she was right. If it can help me stop blocking things out, isn't it worth the fear? I wasn't sure, but a sliver of me lit up like a firework at the idea of regaining my memories.
“Alright,” I said, trying to mute the defeat in my voice. “I'll see what happens.”
How much more could one event ruin my life, anyway?
Laralie reached out, pulling me in for a hug that left me blushing. Then, she backed up the steps, rounding on the detective. “If something bad happens to her,” she said flatly, “I'll stick that pen of yours up your ass.”
He threw his hands up, managing to look entertained instead of scared. “Why do you keep treating me like I'm the bad guy here?”
She pointed once more, then she waved at me before vanishing inside.
Roose sighed loudly, twisting the pen in his fingers. “She wasn't serious, was she?”
Looking up at him, I lingered on the pen. “You don't want to find out.”
His laugh was real, until he saw how I wasn't amused. Coughing, he tucked the pen in his pocket and waved an arm to the left. “Let's get going.”
My steps down the sidewalk became heavier and heavier. I had the sense that, in spite of all the promised results, I was heading towards the gallows.
Old Stone bank, the place everything had changed.
No matter how I tried to prepare myself... I didn't know what was waiting for me.
- Chapter Thirteen -
Alexis
The drive went by too fast. It always worked that way when you didn't want to be somewhere, didn't it?
Roose had driven us in an old, beaten up Subaru. Again, I didn't know what I expected from this guy, but it wasn't this. The floor of the car was messy—not with trash, I realized, but crumpled bits of notebook paper.
Nudging one, I tried to read the scribbles, but I was distracted by the sight of a Tool CD underneath. Were detectives allowed to listen to that kind of music? Good music?
“Hey,” he said, trying to start a conversation for the eighth time. “Thanks again for doing this.”
“Thank me if it works.” It won't work. But what if it did?
In my purse, my phone buzzed. It was loud enough in the silence that Roose glanced at me. “You gonna get that?”
On impulse, I dug inside and peeked at the phone. It had been a text.
Silver: I need to see you.
Clutching the phone, as if the warmth from it was connected to the man himself, I shivered. If I respond, what do I say?
Roose coughed politely. “Something come up?”
Nervously, I zipped my purse up. “No no, everything is fine.”
“Well, good. Because we're here.”
I tasted bile in my mouth. Old Stone Bank was as big as I remembered it. It hadn't changed at all in five years, not that I could see. The pale structure reached for the sky, leaving our car in shadow.
Pain rippled up my forearm; I was crushing my seat unconsciously. Letting it go, I flexed my hand and glanced at Roose. “It's weird,” I admitted. “I never planned to come back here.”
Leaning in the car door, he watched me with interest. “I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I thought there was another way. You might not believe this, but I don't normally like making girls pissed at me.”
I cracked a smile. “That is hard to believe.”
Warmth entered his eyes. “Listen, Miss Willow... I promise, if it gets to be too much for you, I'll get you out of there.”
His sudden kindness threw me for a loop.
He said, “I'm really just trying to put a dangerous man behind bars. ”
Dangerous. If I shut my eyes and dug down, I could vaguely recall that the man who'd held me hostage had put a gun to my head. Roose had confirmed that last week, too. It was strange that I'd forget such a detail, but I'd done my best to avoid talking or reading about the crime for so long. All of it was a big foggy mess.
Visiting the bank might actually jostle things into place and allow me to remember the past clearly. The idea gave me a sense of dread more than anything.
“Miss Willow?”
Blinking, I said, “Just call me Alexis.”
“Alright, Alexis. You can call me Vermont.”
Smiling weakly, I nodded. “Okay.” I had no plans to call him by his first name.
He smiled back. The moment stretched awkwardly. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Are you going to get out of the car?”
I scurried onto the sidewalk and slammed the door behind me. “Uh, sorry. My mind is all over the place.”
He led the way up the large stone steps. I noticed that the closer we got to those giant doors, the closer I stood to the detective. Fear was rustling in my guts, stinging me like a nest of wasps.
Inside, the floors and walls were a rich granite. There were several security guards on the perimeter, and the one nearest to us gave a quick nod. The lack of reaction made me think they recognized the detective.
Stepping to one side, he faced me. “Alright, here we are.”
Crossing my arms so hard I was bear-hugging myself, I asked, “Now what?”
His face fell. “Is nothing coming back to you?”
“I guess I remember coming here that day.”