Luck of the Draw Read online

  When he came out of the shower, dressed, his hair still damp, his body still chilled from his cold shower, he saw that she was waiting, ready to go. “Are you sure about visiting this prisoner?”

  She nodded. “If he’s the one behind the attempts on my life—”

  “Sorry, but it seems a little naive to think that this man in a maximum security prison is going to tell you if he’s trying to kill you or not.”

  Joslyn smiled at that. “I’ll know,” she said, hoping that was true. She’d never seen more than a photo of him and was terrified to face him, but what choice did she have? “I have to try.”

  Garrett raked a hand through his damp hair. “Where is he?”

  “Walla Walla, at the state maximum security prison. How far are we from there?”

  “A few hours to the south, but Joslyn—”

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I don’t expect you to—”

  “I’m going with you.” He met her gaze and held it for a long moment. He was already in so deep, too deep. But he knew he couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not ever.

  It was only a matter of time before he’d be hearing from the sheriff. There was probably already a BOLO out on him and his pickup. He’d be wanted for abducting her, maybe worse, kidnapping especially since they’d crossed state lines.

  He breathed in the smell of fresh coffee and reached for a cup. “You’re sure about this?” She nodded and picked up her coffee cup. In for a penny, in for a pound, as Dorothea always said. “Let’s go then.”

  * * *

  IT WASN’T UNTIL they were on the road headed south toward Walla Walla that Garrett spoke again. He shot her a look and said, “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  Joslyn held her breath. She told herself all that mattered was that Garrett believed that they were both in danger. His life depended on it. She couldn’t bear the thought that she’d put him at risk. Being this close to him, not being able to touch him, to curl up in his arms, was killing her. Killing her almost as much as the doubt and distrust she still saw in his blue eyes.

  “Your guardian had a long talk with the sheriff.”

  Was that what was bothering him? She could just imagine what Alistair had said. “Let me guess. He told him that I’m a troubled young woman.”

  “Apparently your doctor thinks your memory loss stems from a split personality.”

  “A split personality?” She scoffed at that. “You really can’t believe—”

  “It might explain why you became Joslyn Charles.”

  She sighed and had to look away for a moment. “The name Monica Wilmington comes with a lot of baggage as you can imagine.” Turning to him again, she said, “I’d always hated the name Monica. When I met you, I desperately wanted a new beginning.” She looked into his eyes for a moment. “Joslyn wasn’t just a name I picked,” she said, her voice cracking. “It was someone I wanted to be—with you. I loved the name Joslyn Charles and who I was with you.”

  “Me, too,” he said softly and seemed to be concentrating again on his driving. “But that seems like the behavior of someone with a split personality,” he said.

  True, but she could see him soften toward her as if a little of the anger and disappointment and distrust had fallen away. Her heart beat a little faster. If only she could reach him...

  “Your doctor believes your memory loss and your use of other names proves that there is more going on with you,” Garrett said. “Add to that the fact that you’ve been safe for the past eighteen months and you left that safety for a reason you didn’t remember.”

  She shook her head, seeing why he was so worried that her. “I told you about the photo of the two of us. Someone put it under my door. I wouldn’t risk jeopardizing your life unless I thought you were in danger. I wasn’t acting irresponsibly. I came here to warn you that you were in danger.”

  He said nothing.

  “This memory loss isn’t from any emotional trauma. It’s from the knock on my head because of the car accident. I know my psychiatrist in Seattle wants to make more of it than it is—”

  “Why is that?”

  She looked away. “I don’t know. It could be because I’m about to turn thirty and then he and my lawyer will have to get real jobs. On my birthday, I’m free. No more guardian. I will no longer need the services of my doctor or lawyer, who were both hired twenty-five years ago to help watch over me.”

  “Joslyn, you were terrified to let those ambulance attendants take you back to Seattle. What would have happened if they’d locked you up before your birthday?”

  She sighed. “If they could have proved that I wasn’t in my right mind...”

  “You don’t think that’s motive?”

  “Not to kill me. Neither my doctor or lawyer would benefit if I died.”

  “Who would?”

  She hesitated, hating to voice it. “My stepsister and stepbrother, I would imagine. Maybe my guardian. I honestly have never asked.”

  “Joslyn, someone hired that man to kill you. I think you’re scared it wasn’t Harvey Mattson, who’s serving time for killing your father and stepmother. What if the person you have to fear is someone closer at home?”

  She rubbed her temples. She was still suffering from the effects of whatever drug they’d given her. “Let’s start with Harvey, okay?” She looked to him, pleading in her voice.

  He nodded and gave her a pitying smile that made her chest hurt.

  “If I’m right about why I ended up in Whitefish, then my car is somewhere in or around the town,” she said needing to change the subject. She described it for him. “Which will prove that there is nothing wrong with my memory—until I was in an accident and hit my head. Maybe we can go look for it after we see Harvey.”

  He glanced over at her, his expression saying she was clutching at straws. Maybe she was, but it was all she had right now. Thanks to Garrett she wasn’t strapped down in some mental ward in a hospital right now. She had a chance to try to figure this out. She wondered why she’d never considered talking to Harvey before. Because she’d been terrified as to what she would learn? Was it the same reason she couldn’t remember who had killed her father and stepmother?

  She pushed the thought away and looked out at the landscape as it rushed past. She saw Garrett watching the rearview mirror. How long before Alistair had him arrested and her sent to that mental ward? She recalled being strapped down and shuddered at the thought of what could happen if they were caught.

  Glancing over at Garrett, she felt a rush of love for him. He thought this trip was a waste of time and yet he was taking her. She felt herself falling even deeper in love with him with each passing minute.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  GARRETT WAS GLAD to be on the road again—even if they were headed for the Washington state prison on a fool’s errand. At least they were moving and, right now, he didn’t know what else to do. He’d hoped to work out some things in his head after he’d “saved” Joslyn.

  But all of this felt too complicated to do any reasonable thinking. He could admit to himself that the sheriff was right. He was in over his head with this woman. The cold shower hadn’t helped much. He was too aware of her next to him in the close confines of the pickup’s cab. Her presence was messing up any thoughts he might have as to how to get them out of this.

  They hadn’t spoken the past hundred miles. Joslyn seemed lost in thought, her face turned toward the side window, the sun glowing on her cheeks. He couldn’t help thinking about what she’d said about the name Joslyn Charles. It was the woman she’d wanted to be with him.

  He hated to think what her doctor might make of that, but quickly shoved the thought away. Did he really believe that she might have more than one personality? That there might be more women inside her? He shook his head and tried to concentrate on his driving. They weren’t that far from Walla Walla
and the prison now.

  “I need to know what you saw on that mountain before I ended up in the Whitefish hospital.”

  He glanced over at her, surprised that she’d not only broken the silence, but also that she’d done it with a demanding tone in her voice. “I have to know, Garrett. It was self-defense, wasn’t it?”

  * * *

  JOSLYN COULD SEE that he was making up his mind, so waited, hoping he could provide the missing pieces and relieve her mind.

  He took a breath and let it out before he spoke. “I was up at our family guest ranch in the mountains on a horseback ride when I spotted a man and a woman on the ridgeline across from a deep ravine. The man was forcing the woman through the pines. I pulled out my binoculars... The man had a gun on her, threatening her. She got away at one point and ran, but he caught her, struck her with the gun and then put the barrel to her head.”

  It surprised her that he was telling the story as if she wasn’t that woman. But she said nothing, afraid he might stop.

  “I reached for my holstered pistol, fired a shot in the air to let the man know I was watching all of this and then I heard four shots, in rapid fire.”

  He told the story as if he had recited it dozens of times. “I assumed the sheriff and I would find the woman dead. I had caught movement of someone escaping in a blue SUV, but thought it was the man. I was shocked to realize he was the one who’d been shot and died.”

  She’d somehow gotten the gun away from him and killed the man. The blood under her fingernails, the deputy outside her door. For a while, she’d let herself forget. She’d killed a man. The thought echoed through her, making her feel sick to her stomach.

  “But you didn’t see me pull the trigger?”

  He shook his head.

  “That explains why the sheriff said you saved my life.” She looked over at him. “I owe you my life.”

  “That’s a bit overly dramatic,” he said. “You were the one who somehow got the gun away from him and fired the shots that killed him.”

  She looked away for a moment, feeling the weight of his words. “I was afraid that was the case when I noticed dried blood under my fingernails at the hospital.”

  “You still have no memory of any of it?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “My last memory was getting up in the apartment where I lived as Krystal Bradley.”

  “But you remembered us.”

  “I told you. I could never have forgotten you.”

  He frowned. “There is one more thing. The gun that killed the man? It was the same one the clerk at the convenience store used to kill George Rutledge the night we met.”

  Joslyn felt the shock hit her like a slap. “How is that possible?”

  “The sheriff has a couple of theories. One is that the youngest Rutledge, Nicky, was in the store that night and picked it up. The other is that you took it.”

  She felt her cheeks burn. He saw her reaction and swore.

  “You picked up the gun!” He started to step away from her but she touched his arm.

  “Please, let me try to explain. I was scared. I thought I might need it.”

  “And you’ve kept it all this time?” She nodded. “So how did the man on the side of the mountain get it?”

  “He must have taken it away from me. I always carry it in my purse.”

  Garrett swore again. “I was so sure the Rutledge kid must have picked it up. But Sid was right. The easiest explanation was that you’d had it all this time.”

  She could see that she’d lost another piece of his trust. She felt the loss at heart level as the prison came into view.

  The place was a huge complex of redbrick buildings. She felt her stomach churn. Was she really doing this? Coming face-to-face with the man who allegedly killed her father and stepmother? When she saw him would she remember? Would she remember it was him who’d committed the murder?

  Her hands began to shake. She rubbed her palms down her legs and tried to calm her terror. The news of what had almost happened to her on that mountainside north of Whitefish had left her shaken enough. But realizing what she was about to do had her stricken.

  She tried to hide just how nervous she was as they parked in the lot and made their way to the visitors’ entrance only to find out that it was Monday. No visiting hours. Garrett asked to speak to someone who could help them. He explained the situation, telling them who she was.

  Some phones calls were made and, after a while, they were shown into a private room and told there would be a guard in the room at all times.

  All of it felt surreal as if in a bad dream.

  She didn’t remember the walk down the long hallway, the echo of their footfalls, the opening and closing of thick metal doors. Once inside, she sat on the cold edge of a chair in a small room with only a table and a few chairs, all bolted to the floor.

  Her body trembled inside as she waited expectantly, her gaze on the door he would come through. While Harvey Mattson had apparently often been at their house before the murders, she had no memory of him. Her anxiety built at the thought that she would recognize him from the night of the murder—and he would see her expression and know that she’d remembered and his fate would be sealed.

  There was a noise outside the door. The sound of keys rattling in a lock. From the chair beside her, Garrett reached over and took her hand in his large warm one. He gently squeezed it. “You can change your mind,” he whispered.

  She shook her head, unable to speak as the door began to open. She knew the expression jump out of your skin, but she’d never really understood it until the man walked in. He was shackled, the metal ankle and wrist bindings rattling as he entered.

  Her heart lodged in her throat as she stared at him. He barely resembled the photo of the young man she’d seen in the papers. His wide face was pockmarked, his nose flattened to one side as if it had been broken numerous times and his brown eyes were deep-set like the wrinkles around them. He lumbered in and stopped just inside the door. His huge form seemed to fill up the room and suck out all the air.

  Joslyn stared at the man she felt responsible for putting behind bars almost twenty-five years ago because she’d been unable to remember who she’d seen that night. Harvey might have just been in the wrong place that night—in the neighborhood where the murders had taken place. He’d been drinking and hadn’t pulled over when the cop had flashed his lights and siren. He’d recently changed clothes and taken a shower, another red flag.

  His connection with Horace Wilmington and other arrests in his past for violent behavior had been enough to convict him. When he’d gone in, he’d been only twenty and his nose hadn’t been broken as many times, but he’d still had that thug-like look about him. She’d heard about her father’s associates. She knew enough now to know that if Harvey had been one of her father’s “associates” then Horace Wilmington had been into more than the yacht business, confirming the rumors about how he’d accumulated his fortune.

  Garrett rose from his chair, ready for trouble if the prisoner decided to give them any even though there was a guard standing a few feet away just as ready.

  Harvey Mattson’s expression was unreadable for a moment, before he focused on her and suddenly broke into a huge smile. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “Mo, it’s really you.” He took a tentative step toward the table where the two of them were seated on the opposite side. The guard stopped him from coming any closer. He dropped into his chair across from them.

  Joslyn was too stunned to speak. He’d called her by her father’s nickname for her.

  Harvey sat down heavily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m just so excited to see you. When they told me I had visitors, I never dreamed. But it is really you.” He looked to Garrett before his gaze returned to her. “Tell me you’re here with good news.”

  She felt confused. “Good news?”
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  Now he looked confused. “I thought maybe you remembered that night.” He sounded so hopeful.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly and shook her head.

  His disappointment was almost palpable. “I told myself when I saw you not to get my hopes up...” He wagged his big head and let out an embarrassed laugh. “But I couldn’t help it.” His gaze softened as he looked at her again. “But if that isn’t why you’re here...”

  “Someone has been trying to kill her,” Garrett said. “We thought you might know something about that.”

  True concern shone in the man’s dark eyes. “No. You thought I... No,” he said more firmly. He shook his head adamantly. “I need you alive. I wake up every day praying that you will remember what happened. Killing you would mean that this...” He glanced around the room. “Really is a life sentence.” He shook his head again. “You are my only hope of ever walking out of here.”

  Tears burned her eyes as she looked at the man. He had spent all these years waiting for her to remember. “I’m so sorry,” she said again.

  He nodded and surprised her by smiling again. “You will remember, Mo. I know you will. I have to believe it. One day you will clear me. One day I will walk out of here a free man. Until you do...” He looked worried. Glancing at Garrett, he said, “You have to protect her. You can’t let anything happen to her.”

  “I’m doing my best. But if you aren’t behind the attempts on her life, then who?”

  Harvey didn’t hesitate. “The real killer. Who else?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “HE WASN’T ANYTHING like I thought he would be,” Joslyn said when they reached Garrett’s pickup and were safely inside. “I felt...sorry for him. I want so badly to remember.” She shook her head and looked over at him.