Slow Burn (30 page)

Despite the relaxing atmosphere, Ashley’s
stomach knitted with tension. She walked to the window and stared
blindly at the people walking down the street.

“Babe, why don’t you sit down and try to
relax,” Ron said from behind her, his hands resting in her
waist.

Relax? How could she when she was about to
revisit the most traumatic moment in her life? She turned and gave
him a tiny smile then walked to the loveseat and sat. He joined
her, reached behind her to rub her back.

“It might help if you talked about your
fears,” he added.

“I want my memories back, but I have this
fear that there must be a reason why I chose to block them.” She
paused to clear her throat. “Maybe the dream I had the other night
is really what happened ten years ago and not something my
subconscious created to fill the void in my memory. I keep asking
myself whether I’m ready to deal with the truth.” She threw him a
glance from the corner of her eye. “But, I’m happy you’re here with
me.”

“So am I. However,” he cupped her cheek,
turned her head until their gazes connected, “if you don’t think
you’re ready, then don’t go through with this.”

Ashley shook her head. Considering how much
he wanted to know what happened that night, it was quite noble of
him to suggest giving up. She didn’t really have a choice. They’d
already decided to work with Dr. Reuben first before attempting to
jog her memory by walking through Carlyle House.

“I’ll be fine.” When Ron continued to frown,
she pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Only if you’re sure,” he added.

Ashley smiled, thinking it cute the way he
worried about her. “I am.”

The reality of what she was about to do had
hit about an hour ago. Who knew she would be falling apart like
this at the last minute? Ron had kept her too busy last night for
her to worry about anything else—fixing her door, discussing their
case, making love. This morning, dealing with cops—not that the
conversation with Officer Sanchez had shed any new light into the
cause of Dunn’s death—then later dropping off the sketch of Frankie
Higgins at Kenny’s offices had kept the thoughts of the pending
hypnosis at bay. Now her knees knocked and ice spread under her
skin. The waiting was driving her nuts.

She shot an impatient glance at the door just
as it opened and a petite woman of about fifty walked in. It was
Dr. Reuben. Her graying dreadlocked hair was pinned back and
glasses perched at the tip of her freckled nose. She smiled and
nodded at Ron, then turned her attention to Ashley.

“My dear.” She walked to her side, sat down
and took her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. Scared.” She’d learned a long time
ago never to lie to Dr. Reuben. Her chin lifted, determination
cutting through her fear. “But I still want to do this.”

The therapist shook her head and sighed. Not
exactly the reaction Ashley had expected. Before she could ask if
everything was okay, the woman looked up at Ron and offered him her
hand. “We haven’t met. Irene Reuben.”

“Ron Noble.”

Her eyes sharpened as though she recognized
his name, but she didn’t say anything. Instead of inviting Ron to
sit, she turned to face Ashley. “I’m so sorry, my dear. But I won’t
be performing the hypnosis today—or any other day. Let me finish,
please,” she added when Ashley opened her mouth to respond. “I’m
taking an extended leave of absence from my practice and will be
referring all my patients to several of my colleagues. We tried to
call you earlier today to cancel the appointment but your phone
went unanswered.”

No. Please no.
It took her this long
to muster enough courage to agree to hypnosis. Ashley shook her
head. “I don’t want another therapist, Dr. Reuben. I only agreed to
do it because I knew I’d work with you. It will take me forever to
trust another therapist.”

“I understand that, dear. But I’m in a
situation that can’t be helped.” Dr. Reuben’s grip tightened on
Ashley’s hand. “You see, someone bugged my offices. As a therapist,
my patients rely on me to keep our sessions private, so anything
they tell me is confidential. Someone out there has had access to
my office for I don’t know how long. I’ve no idea who that person
is or how many of my sessions have been compromised. I can’t treat
anyone until I know the extent of the damage.”

Ashley didn’t know what to think, how to
feel. The hollow feeling in her stomach intensified. This was the
last straw in a string of many strange coincidences. Maybe
recovering her lost memory wasn’t meant to be. She looked at Ron,
knowing how much this latest development must be devastating to
him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

His hand closed on her shoulder and squeezed.
“It’s not your fault. I hope you catch the person responsible for
this,” he added, looking at the therapist.

“I hope so, too,” she added.

Ashley studied the woman. The lines on her
face appeared more pronounced and her hazel eyes were shadowed. “I
don’t know if I want to go through this with another doctor, Dr.
Reuben.”

“Ashley—”

“I know, I know. I need to face my fear and
see this through.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Okay. If you recommend someone, I promise to think about it.”

“That’s the spirit.” She patted Ashley’s hand
then she got up, went to her desk and retrieved a manila envelope.
“This has a list of colleagues who are exceptional therapists. I’ve
already explained my situation, and they’re willing to absorb my
patients.”

“Thank you.” On impulse, Ashley hugged Dr.
Reuben after accepting the envelope. The doctor returned the hug,
then stepped back and broke the contact. An awkward silence and
hasty goodbyes followed.

Ashley and Ron left the office and headed
down the stairs. It was after five and people hurried through the
lobby of the office building, mostly heading outside, but a few
walked toward the elevators. Ashley glanced at Ron from the corner
of her eye. His expression was calm, which was exactly what she
needed right now. Any signs of frustration at the turn of events
and she’d only feel worse. This wasn’t how she’d planned this day
to end.

The drive to her place was accomplished in
silence. Inside her loft, Ashley threw the envelope Dr. Reuben had
given to her on the counter and started the coffeemaker.

Ron watched her like a hawk. “Sweetheart, why
don’t you open the envelope?”

“No. It took me years to trust her, Ron. I’m
not about to start all over with another shrink.” She leaned
against the counter, pinched the bridge of her eyes and sighed.
“We’ll go with plan B—walk through Carlyle House until something
jogs my memory. You have the keys, right?”

He moved around the counter toward her,
nodding.

She took a deep breath and released it. “It’s
time. My memory’s coming back in bits and pieces, but more rapidly
than before. You can even show me the secret room.”

Ron stopped in front of her and peered into
her eyes. “That’s a wonderful idea, but I still need you to open
the envelope. Please.”

His expression was solemn, his behavior
beyond weird. If he wanted her to study the names of shrinks she
had no intention of seeing, she’d humor him. Ashley plucked the
manila envelope from the counter, grabbed a letter opener from a
tray by her disconnected phone and slid it open.

A single sheet of paper with Dr. Reuben’s
slanted handwriting nestled inside. She read the single sentence,
shook her head and read it again. She looked up at Ron and frowned.
“What does she mean she’ll meet me at
your
place at seven to
perform the hypnosis? What’s going on?”

Ron crossed his arms and leaned against the
counter, a grim expression settling on his face. “On Sunday before
I learned that you slapped me with a restraining order, I asked
Kenny to check on your shrink.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Hear me out, please. Okay? I assumed that
whoever bugged your place must know you’d made an appointment to
see Reuben. And since we’ve concluded they’re after what you
remember from ten years ago, I knew they’d also bug her place.
Kenny contacted Dr. Reuben last night when she got back into town,
explained to her what was going on and she let him search her
offices. When we stopped at his place earlier, he told me he found
transmitters in every room and on the phones, and a video feed in
the fan’s socket in the room we were in.”

Ashley’s hand crept to her chest, her heart
pounding like tom-toms. It never crossed her mind that Dr. Reuben
could be in danger. But Ron had thought about her and taken care of
things. She reached up and touched his cheek. “Thank you. How did
you get her to agree to a search? Reuben is so fastidious about her
personal space.”

“I wasn’t there, but Kenny can be charming
when a situation demands it. I tend not to ask for details. He has
someone shadowing the therapist and will coordinate things with her
and her husband to sneak her inside my house tonight in case she’s
being followed.”

Ashley reached for two mugs, filled them with
coffee and handed Ron his black. She added hazelnut creamer to
hers, her mind going in circles. After she took a long sip, she set
her mug on the counter and studied her man. She loved him and would
do just about anything for him, but she hated when people kept
things from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on our
way to her place? Why am I hearing about it now?” Her voice came
out even and non-confrontational.

“The plan was for you to act naturally in the
doc’s office when she cancelled the hypnosis. You passed with
flying colors.”

Her eyes widened as realization sunk in. “You
mean the bugs are still in her office?”

Ron nodded. “This way, whoever is listening
will believe Reuben won’t hypnotize you and hopefully leave you and
her alone. Remember what Kilpatrick said, Dunn’s office was swept
clean. Someone is still listening.”

Ashley frowned as the conversation with the
therapist replayed in her head. “Does that mean she’s really not
closing her practice?”

“I don’t know. You can ask her tonight. Kenny
filled me in on the basics and kept the details to himself. One
thing he did say was that the good doc has a soft spot for you.
Once Kenny explained what’s been happening, she wanted to help,
hence the appointment at my place. Why are we whispering?”

“This whole investigation seems so surreal,
like we should be wearing disguises and skulking in the dark. So
what’s the plan?”

Ron put his arm around her shoulder and
kissed her temple. “We grab some food, head over to my place and
wait.”

***

Hours later, they’d picked up Chinese food
somewhere in West Hollywood and were on their way to Ron’s. Ashley
hadn’t given much thought to where he lived, but looked around with
interest as they pulled up the driveway of a gorgeous Mediterranean
hilltop villa in Beachwood Canyon. He parked his car and led her
along a cobbled courtyard to an arched, iron-studded oak door. The
ancient-looking door, plain white exterior with high and tiny oval
windows, didn’t prepare her for the splendor inside. Ashley’s jaw
dropped when he unlocked the door and turned off his state-of-the
art security system.

She’d died and gone to heaven. The loft-style
living, dining and kitchen open floor plan was her ideal design of
a dream home. The oak floor and wood-accented walls, plants in
niches and brown furniture created an outdoorsy aura. Stars
twinkled through the skylights and clear glass French windows
dominated the length of the house, displaying the panoramic view of
downtown L.A. Security lights gave her a glimpse of mature trees
and an ivy-choked wooden fence. She spied a den through an arched
doorway to her right as Ron carried the bag with their food to a
brown granite kitchen table.

“You have a beautiful home,” she said.

“Thank you.”

She took in the wood, lantern pendant lights
dangling from the ceiling and sconces on walls. “How old is
it?”

“About eighty, but I fixed it some.” He
pulled out plates from a cupboard and utensils, and reached for the
Styrofoam containers.

She caught his wrist. “Show me around
first.”

“Not much to see really.”

She tugged his arm. “Then it shouldn’t take
long, should it?”

He grinned at her overt curiosity, wound his
arm around her shoulder and hugged her closer. “If a tour is what
you want, babe….”

He didn’t hurry her as they walked through
arched doorways from room to room—a den, a media room, home gym and
a guest room. Two French doors on either sides of the fireplace in
the master bedroom opened to a balcony. For a moment, they stood
out there, arms around each other, and enjoyed the view of downtown
L.A. at dusk. The pristine waters of his swimming pool reflected
the sky’s myriad of colors. By the time they made it back to the
kitchen, Ashley wanted to trade homes.

Ron regaled her with stories of the crap he’d
gone through renovating the house as they settled on cushioned
chairs at the dining room table that seated six. He produced a
bottle of Chardonnay to go with their chicken dishes and heaped
their plates with food. They dug in, keeping the conversation
easy.

When a knock came at the door, it was quarter
to seven. So absorbed in Ron, Ashley had completely forgotten the
reason she was in his home. Reality shifted and a shiver racked her
body. It was the therapist’s office all over again.

Dressed in an overcoat and scarf tied around
her head, Dr. Reuben’s petite form was dwarfed by Kenny and another
military-type guy with cropped brown hair. Everything happened fast
after that. Pleasantries were exchanged, curtains drawn and lights
turned on. Kenny and his man disappeared somewhere. Ashley sat on a
dining room chair, arms hugging her body. The verbal exchange
between Ron and the therapist finally penetrated her foggy
mind.