Page 17 of One Little Memory (Cherry Valley Novella)

Phoenix had sent Jo a text and told her he would be back shortly.

He also sent a text to a couple of uniformed officers he knew were on duty and asked them to buzz by his place every twenty minutes and check on Jo while he was out.

With that done, he was free to pursue the investigation.

He drove over to Marchand’s, passing behind the stadium by the high school along the way.

“Shit.” He hadn’t checked to make sure Mrs. Grossman’s car was back in her spot. He’d have to do that on the way back. Honestly, though, if she hadn’t gotten it back, he probably would’ve heard. She wasn’t one to suffer fools gladly.

The drive didn’t take long and there was no traffic. He made a U-turn after Marchand’s driveway and came to a stop. Yellow police tape blocked the narrow lane. He got out and looked at the shack, which was also still cordoned off.

It was early evening and the temperature was warm even though it was still cloudy.

He hoped they didn’t get more rain. It might destroy any evidence that could prove Jo didn’t kill Marchand.

He followed the tire tracks that were in the mud as he pictured the scene in his head.

Jo zooming down the driveway, hitting Marchand, and then stopping her rental, getting out, and shooting him.

He stared. That didn’t work. Marchand was found near the house, off to the side of a dying rose bush.

How could he be by the house after being hit by the car?

Damian Kennedy had said Marchand wouldn’t have died from being hit. A broken leg and some ribs. If she had hit him and stopped, did she help him up? Help him to the house and then shoot him? That didn’t make sense.

What if there were two people? If Jo had a partner, then maybe this scenario could work.

She hits him and stops and then the partner helps him to the house and shoots him.

No. That sounded ludicrous. If on the other hand, Marchand had a partner, that worked better.

Jo hits Marchand and keeps going. Marchand’s partner helps him to the house and then shoots him for some reason. Not perfect but closer.

As he approached his SUV beyond the police tape, he studied the mud and tire tracks again.

It looked like a vehicle had slid on the way out, fishtailed.

There were skid marks on the road as well.

With all of the emergency vehicles around, no one had noticed.

No one had known to look. They thought Marchand had been shot, which was true.

No one else knew about him being hit by the car.

No one except him and Aiden. Probably Jory by now, but those guys would keep it to themselves.

The chief knew, but he wasn’t going to spread it around and Damian Kennedy wouldn’t say anything either.

He got in his SUV and drove slowly back to the embankment.

About a half a mile from the break in the guard rail, he saw what he’d missed before.

What they’d all missed. There were skid marks on the road here, too.

It had been raining that night so the marks were faint, but they were there.

Reasonably speaking, those marks could be from anyone sliding on this road.

There was no way to prove they were from Jo’s car.

He pulled off to the side and then went back and examined the markings.

There were some glass bits off to the side of the road that looked like they could have come from headlights or taillights but, again, it was all speculation.

There were definitely two sets of skid marks, though. Someone had pushed Jo off the road.

He got back in the SUV and continued. There were more skid marks and then the final ones where Jo had gone off the road.

Once he knew what he was looking for, they were easy to see, but at night in the rain, no one would’ve picked them up, especially since no one thought it had been anything other than a one-car accident.

It was sloppiness on his part. That was the truth of it.

If Marchand hadn’t turned up dead, he would’ve come back to look at the area in the daylight and probably picked up on it sooner.

He’d put that in his report. No point in shirking his responsibility in this.

Phoenix took some pictures like he had at the other stops and made some notes.

Then he headed home. He wasn’t sure if all this made him feel better or worse.

There were still too many unanswered questions.

He drove slowly by the stadium and then turned in to the back entrance for the school.

He went to the front where Mrs. Grossman’s car was sitting in her spot.

He called dispatch and told them to have someone call her and tell her.

If she needed a lift over to get it, send a patrol unit, he instructed.

He turned and headed out again, but then stopped and made a phone call to Coach Moore.

It was a long shot, but there was a chance.

Pulling into his driveway, he let out a sigh. It was dinnertime, but he wasn’t remotely hungry. He needed to see Jo. He walked over to the garage apartment and knocked on the door. She opened it with a small smile, but there was fear in her eyes. She’d remembered something.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Okay.”

He walked in. “Are you hungry? It’s dinnertime.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m good, but if you’re hungry, don’t let me stop you. Thanks for getting those officers to stop by. Made me feel better.”

“No problem.”

Jo went and sat down on the couch. “Phoenix, I’ve remembered something.” She glanced up at him but wouldn’t maintain eye contact.

He braced himself and sat down on a chair across from her. Distance was vital right now. He needed a clear head if he was going to do his job. “You’ve remembered something?”

She nodded and bit her lip. After clearing her throat, she said, “I remember hitting Gus Marchand. That’s his name, right?

” At his nod, she continued. “I hit him with my car, or the rental, I guess. I remember his face against the windshield before he went over the side.” She shuddered. “I killed him.”

Phoenix’s stomach was twisted in so many knots he thought he might puke. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning. What exactly do you remember?”

She took a deep breath. “I remember the darkness of the night and the rain. There’s a man standing in the driveway and he has something in his hands, but I can’t see it. Then I’m hitting him. He bounced up over my hood and into my windshield before sliding off.”

“Then what happened?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Shaking her head, she shrugged. “Nothing. I can’t remember anything else until I wake up in the car and the man is there, taking my purse.

” She met his gaze. “Is that how Gus Marchand died? He was hit by a car? Hazel never said. Neither did you, but I expect it can’t be a coincidence. ”

“Marchand was hit by a car, yes.” He couldn’t tell her the rest. That would be a big mistake in the investigation.

“Oh, God, I killed a man,” she said as tears started to stream down her cheeks.

He was on his feet in seconds and pulled her up into his arms. He wanted so much to tell her the truth.

Someone shot him, but he still didn’t know for sure it wasn’t her.

That wasn’t true. He knew. Knew it wasn’t her, but he couldn’t prove it.

“It’s going to be okay, Jo. I swear it will be okay.” He squeezed her to him.

“I don’t see how.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

They stayed like that for a long moment. If only he could find the evidence needed to clear her.

She lifted her head and looked up at him. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I dragged you into this. It won’t look good for you that I’m staying here. I-I should go.”

“No. Don’t worry about it. You can’t go anywhere.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

He stared down at her. They still needed evidence, and he was the only one that had heard her confession. Once the forensic guys dealt with the car, then he’d have no choice, but until then…

Their gazes locked. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

This was stupid and dangerous, and he was throwing away his whole career, but it just felt so damn good. “At some point, yes, I’m going to have to arrest you. I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “But not right now?”

“No, not now.”

“Tonight?”

He hesitated then nodded.

“Then kiss me again.”

“Jo, I?—"

“I promise I won’t tell a soul. I won’t use it to get off or to say your investigation was flawed. I promise. I just… I need this. I need you.”

“Jo, we don’t even know if you’re married or have kids or a boyfriend or anything. This isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t,” she said in a firm voice. “I haven’t remembered exactly but I just…

know. I know I’m single. I’m not a mom. I…

feel it. Phoenix, the only time I feel safe, I feel good, is with you.

If I’m going to jail tonight, I want to be with you first. I can take that memory with me.

It will be the only thing that will get me through. ”

How the hell was he supposed to say no to that? It would take a better man than he was. He kissed her again, capturing her lips this time and then deepening the kiss. He ran his hands down over her curvy bottom, bringing her hips against his growing erection.

For something so wrong, nothing had ever felt so damn good.

Her arms clasped around his neck as she deepened the kiss, pressing herself against him and grinding her hips.

As he scooped her up, she wrapped her thighs around his waist. He carried her to the bed, laid her down, and then covered her body with his own.

Her hands caressed the hard ridges of his chest through his T-shirt, and it sent fire through his veins.

He was rock hard and desperate to be inside her.

He pulled up her sweater and bra, exposing one breast for him to suckle.

He devoured her nipple with his mouth as desire took complete control of him.

“Phoenix,” she breathed.

This was going too fast. He tried to slow down by planting soft kisses along the side of her neck. She let out a moan and grabbed his T-shirt. He leaned back and pulled the garment off with one hand, dropping it to the floor before he surrounded her with his embrace once more.

His lips searched hers while she traced circles around his chest with her fingertips. He pulled back from her and helped to remove her sweater as she shivered beneath him.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she replied breathlessly.

He unclasped her bra and pulled it free. He cursed under his breath. She was so goddamn beautiful. When he brushed his tongue over one of her nipples she moaned.

“God, that feels so incredible,” she whispered into his ear.

She reached for his belt buckle, but he stopped her, grasping both of her wrists in one hand and holding them above her head.

He took control of the kiss again, their tongues dancing with desire.

Then he moved slowly down from her lips to her neck and then to each of her nipples, tugging lightly at them until she gasped for air.

She tried to free herself from his grip, but he held on tight, whispering into her ear, “If you keep trying to get your hands loose, I'll have to stop what I'm doing.”

A groan escaped her. “That's not fair. I want to feel you,” she said. He pulled away again and then rolled her onto her belly. Holding her hands above her head, he kissed her neck and pressed his hard-on against her curvy backside. She moaned his name.

He reached his hand around to find the apex of her legs and then massaged her through the jeans.

“Take them off,” she demanded.

Phoenix undid the button and the fly. Jo lifted her hips, and he helped her pull them off. Then he went back to kissing her neck as he worked his fingers inside her thong. He rubbed her clit gently. She was wet with anticipation, pushing back and forth as his fingers moved at a leisurely pace.

She bit her lip. “Faster,” she said, and he increased his speed. She writhed under him until he finally plunged his fingers inside of her, which elicited a yelp of pleasure from her lips.

He turned her around again and took off her underwear. Her flushed skin glowed with desire for him alone, and he stepped away despite wanting to consume every inch of her body.

"Phoenix, I need to touch you. To feel you," she moaned, but he shook his head. If she touched him at this point, it would be over before it had started. He wanted her too much.

He pressed his body completely against hers, trapping her against the bed as he kissed her again.

The feeling of her skin against his ignited an uncontrollable craving he no longer wished to restrain.

When he touched the hot center between her legs, she moved fiercely under his touches.

He kissed her neck while flicking his fingers against her clit.

He made his way down her body until he was kneeling on the floor, positioned above the apex of her legs.

He blew on her heated center while she dug her fingers into his scalp.

With eagerness, he tasted her sweet flavor and murmured in pleasure as she gasped at the sensation.

His grip around her ass kept her still as he increased the intensity of his tongue.

Then slowly, he eased one finger inside her tightness while continuing to swirl his tongue around her clit.

Her hands moved to caress his hair as she lifted her hips to meet his mouth. She got closer and closer to the edge until finally, he nipped her clitoris with his teeth, which sent a jolt through her body. His name slipped from her lips as she reached her climax.

Her breathing returned to normal, and she murmured that it was even better than she’d imagined.

His cock swelled against her as he climbed on the bed beside her.

“We need to work on your imagination then,” he chided her and then captured her mouth in a searing kiss. He wanted to remember this moment.

No. He wanted to create more of these moments. He wanted Jo to stay here with him. To be with him every damn day. This couldn’t be the only time they would be together. He wouldn’t let it. He’d find whatever he needed to set her free. He made a silent vow; she would not go to jail on his watch.