“What did he like about it?”
“He said ... he said it made me look like an angel.” Beck met Dr. Granger’s gaze. The doctor nodded, prompting him to continue. “He said you looked like an angel?”
“An angel that fell from heaven. His voice was barely a whisper.”
“What did he smell like?”
She hesitated and then wrinkled her nose. “He smelled like lemons.”
“Lemons?”
“Yes. Very strong.”
“What else do you remember?”
“He liked hurting me.” Her brow wrinkled. “When I cried out, he laughed.” A tear spilled down her cheek and she quickly grew restless.
Dr. Granger touched Lara gently on her knee. “You are safe, Lara. He isn’t here, and he can’t hurt you.”
Lara stared out with vacant eyes. “But he can hurt me. He can see me, but I can’t see him.”
Her entire body tensed, and she leaned forward as if to get off the couch. Beck shifted to the couch and sat beside her. “Lara, you are safe.”
Lara leaned into his warmth. “I am not safe.” She raised her hand to her neck and tears welled in her eyes.
“I’ll wake her up,” Dr. Granger said.
Beck hated seeing her suffer, but if he didn’t find the Strangler, more women would die. He took her hands in his. Her fingers, small and delicate, were rough with callouses. “Did he say anything else?”
Her fingers fisted around his. “After he got off me his mood changed. He sounded angry. Said I needed to look at him. I needed to see him.” She started to weep.
Beck nodded to the doctor, signaling her to end it.
Dr. Granger immediately snapped her fingers. “Lara, it’s time to wake up. Wake up, Lara.”
Lara’s lids fluttered open revealing blue eyes filled with panic and fear. Wet tears streaked.
“It’s okay,” Beck said.
As she lifted her gaze toward his face, she saw that he was still holding her hands. Instead of pulling away, he held tight with surprising strength. Slowly, her wild look calmed.
She closed her eyes and when she reopened them she looked controlled. She pulled her hands free, swiped her cheek dry, and sat straighter. “Did I help?”
“You remembered that the man from your dreams smelled of lemons and that he wore a bandage on his hand. Any ideas that could fill in more details?”
Silence, and then she frowned. “Sorry. Not a clue. But I’ll think about it.”
Dr. Granger said, “I think that’s enough for today.”
“I agree,” Beck said.
Lara nodded. “I should stop by the gallery and check in with Cassidy. She sent me an e-mail and said I’ve had more sales.”
Beck made no move to ease his body away from hers. He liked the feel of her next to him. “Maybe you should give it a rest.”
She pushed her palms over her thighs and rose. “I’d rather keep moving. Life is simpler if I’m busy and don’t have too much time to think.”
Beck also rose. “Why is that?”
“When I’m busy I’m not worrying. When I have downtime I get a little panicked.” She kept her tone light, but it didn’t lesson the punch of the words.
“Why?” Dr. Granger said, standing.
“The hole in my memory stirs up all kinds of worries.”
“What are some of the common worries?” Dr. Granger said.
“That he is close. That he always knows where I am. I think that is why I was on the move so much. I just wanted to stay ahead of it.”
“Were there times when it is worse than others?”
“Around the anniversary of the attack.”
June 1 had been the date on the first police report. “That’s tomorrow.” He’d been wondering why the killer had returned to Austin but had left Lara alone so far. Was he waiting for the anniversary?
“What are you thinking?” she said.
“Just tossing around ideas. It’s what I do all the time.”
“It’s more than tossing around ideas. You’ve settled on a theory.” She cocked her head. “He’s waiting for the anniversary.”
“We don’t know that.”
Keen eyes assessed him. “No, but you are thinking it.”
He smiled. “I think a lot. Why don’t I follow you over to the gallery?”
“You don’t need to do that. I can handle myself.” She looked at Dr. Granger. “Am I good to go?”
The doctor smiled. “Yes. But if you have more memories or thoughts, call me. Don’t worry about the time of day.”
Lara, Lincoln, and Beck moved to her truck.
“Bring that tire by Beck’s Garage, and I’ll patch it up for you.”
“You’d patch a tire for me?”
“I can patch a tire, fix any engine, and hit any target with just about any gun. But don’t ask me to dance.”
She laughed. “No dancing?”
The laughter made her eyes brighter. “Two left feet. Been a few women who stumbled off the dance floor cussing and using the Lord’s name in vain after we took a spin.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. What else can’t you do?”
“I’m not fond of chick flicks, fancy restaurants, or wearing a tie.”
“And what do you like?”
A half smile flickered at the edge of his lips. “I like you.”
She arched a brow. “Me? Sergeant, now I’m worried about you.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m a neurotic artist who hasn’t lived anywhere for more than six months in the last seven years. I work insane hours, and I’m extremely moody when the work isn’t coming together.”
“Other than the neurotic artist part you could have just described the life of a Ranger.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps we are kindred spirits after all. And,” she said, “I’m not so fond of dancing either.”
“What do you like?”
“I like my work. I like Lincoln. I’m starting to like my house and Austin.”
He took her hand in his and traced her palm with his calloused thumb. “I’m going to catch this guy.” Clear. Decisive. “You are going to be safe.”
“You sound a little like Raines. He said almost the same thing to me in Seattle. And now here he is seven years later still hunting the same killer.”
The comparison to Raines was not a comfortable one. “Do you know much about Raines?”
“No.”
“What abo
ut his personal life?”
She cocked her head, questioning. “I remember him showing me a picture of his daughter and saying he did what he did for her.”
“Did he tell you that his wife and daughter died?”
Her skin paled. “No.”
“Car accident about eight years ago.”
Her gaze softened. “I’m so sorry. I don’t like the guy, but I wouldn’t wish that kind of tragedy on my worst enemy.”
“He still wears his wedding band. And I would never have known if one of his old coworkers hadn’t mentioned it.” Beck hooked his thumb in his belt loop. “You’re right when you say he is a lot like me. Raines and I are both driven, and we both live for the job.”
“You’re afraid you’ll end up like him.”
Nail on the head. His forced vacation had made it painfully clear that he had no life outside of work. He’d never minded the long hours or his meager social life. In the last few years the line between him and the work had blurred.
Even that realization hadn’t bothered him until he’d met Lara. “I might be a bit worried about that.”
She drew in a breath as if she was bolstering her courage. “I try to picture myself in ten years. Will I still be tromping around the country alone taking pictures? Yes. But will I be coming home to an empty house? Lincoln will likely be gone by then, and I won’t have anyone.” She chewed her lip. “I don’t love that vision.”
He put his hand in his pocket, resisting the urge to touch her. “Might not be that bad.”
A blush colored her pale cheeks. “When this is all over, Detective, why don’t you come by my place for dinner?”
“A vegetarian dinner?”
She shrugged. “Some of the mushroom dishes taste a lot like meat.”
He leaned toward her, grinning. “But you and I would both know it wasn’t the real deal.”
Lara tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Kinda the point.”
His look was probing. “Saying I do come over for a meal.” He spoke carefully, each word deliberate. “How about I bring a couple of steaks to cook on the grill? You do have a grill, don’t you?”
“I do. But a couple of steaks?” She shook her head. “I don’t eat steak.”
He arched a brow. “I was thinking about Lincoln.” The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name. “We carnivores got to stick together.”
She savored the warmth of his hand against hers. “I’m sure he could be talked into it.”