Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [508]
Losing his memory wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know it was happening. That was the worst part. Laboring over shoestrings, unsuccessfully looping worthless knots and all the while knowing that tying his shoes was once something he did without a thought, let alone without a struggle. Learning to tie your shoes. How hard could that be? Easy enough for a five-year-old. Easy. Right. Only now Luc Racine wore slip-on loafers.
But forgetting Jules’s name. That was unforgivable. How could he have forgotten? He could hear what Julia would say to that, “You never forget the fucking dog’s name, but you can’t remember your own daughter’s.”
The house was cold, as if a window had been left open. Summer was certainly over. He didn’t need to see the flaming red of the turning oak leaves. He could feel it in the evening chill, hear it after dark in the chirp of crickets.
He stopped in the middle of the living room. He stopped and looked slowly around. Something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t like last night when he couldn’t recognize anything. No, something felt out of place. A clammy shiver swept through him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Coming back from the quarry he had gotten the same chill. He had followed the footpath, watching his feet so he wouldn’t trip over the protruding rocks hidden in the tall grass. All the way back it felt like someone had been watching him. Not just Watermeier or one of the others making sure he left, but someone watching. Watching and following. He had heard twigs snap behind him. Thought it was his imagination, but Scrapple heard it, too, growling once, then putting his tail between his legs, his ears back and hurrying home. He barely waited for Luc, only slowing because the wuss of a dog counted on Luc as his protector. There was something wrong with that. Something backward. Weren’t dogs instinctively supposed to be protective of their masters?
Now Luc checked around his own living room, looking for signs that he wasn’t alone. He looked out the windows, checking for anyone hiding in the trees. His only assurance was that Scrapple seemed content, stretched out on his favorite rug. Luc hurried to the front door, turned the dead bolt, then made sure the kitchen door was bolted, too. It was probably all in his imagination, although he couldn’t remember reading a thing about the disease causing hallucinations or paranoia. But then, how the hell would he remember reading about it when he couldn’t remember his own daughter’s name?
He shook his head, disgusted with himself. He stopped to check the meager possibilities for dinner, opening the refrigerator. There had to be something he and Scrapple could eat. He stared at the top shelf.
A twinge of panic rushed through him again. What the hell? Calm down, he told himself. It was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but his own stupid forgetfulness. And he grabbed the TV remote from the top shelf of the refrigerator.
“I’ve been looking all over the place for this.”
CHAPTER 24
Henry told O’Dell she could follow him to the morgue. She probably thought he was being considerate. He really just wanted her beside him when they walked out of the quarry together, when the media piranhas attacked. He already knew Stolz wouldn’t be any help. The M.E. seemed to have an allergic reaction to reporters and was long gone.
“So tell me, Agent O’Dell, from what you’ve seen, any ideas who I need to start looking for? And you can spare me the basics.”
“The basics?”
“Yeah, white male, twenty-something recluse whose mama abused him so now he doesn’t know how to respond to a woman except with violence.”
“How does Steve Earlman’s mutilation fit into that profile?”
Damn! He’d forgotten about Steve, didn’t even want to think about poor Steve.
“Okay, so let’s hear your basics on this one.”
“It’s too soon to give you a physical description, except that yes,