I'm doubting him now? Why?
"'Morning," she said, vaguely surprised that her voice sounded so normal. Even a chameleon had her limits, and Riley suspected she had reached hers days ago. At least.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're up early," Ash said as he joined her at the table. He bent down and kissed her lightly. "But last night I had the impression you were going to sleep for a week. Or three."
"I…just needed a little rest."
"You needed a lot of rest. And still do." He frowned slightly as he studied her.
"I know I look like hell," she managed, suddenly realizing she hadn't even bothered to run her fingers through her hair in her bolt from the bedroom.
"You never look like hell. But you do look worried."
"I am worried." She drew a breath. "Ash, I've had another blackout."
"What?"
She nodded. "I don't remember anything after having that vision yesterday morning in the clearing. That's more than eighteen hours this time."
Ash pulled out the chair beside hers and sat down. He was still frowning. "Riley-"
"I thought I might have written more down in the report, but it's just what I remember anyway. Meeting with Jake and Leah in the conference room at the sheriff's department, talking. Then the two of us going to the crime scene so I could try to pick up something. And having that weird vision. Ash, I don't have visions, not like that one, and I don't understand it. I don't understand what's happening to me. Jesus, I don't even know if I've checked in with Bishop-"
"Riley." He reached over and covered one of her restless hands with his. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm trying to tell you-" She broke off abruptly, really looking at his expression, and felt a chilly wave sweep over her. "Yesterday," she managed. "Yesterday morning. I told you about the attack on Sunday night."
He nodded. "Yeah, you told me about that."
"And-the blackouts? The missing time?"
Ash's fingers tightened around hers. "Honey, you never said anything about blackouts or missing time. This is the first I've heard of any of that."
It was still early, just before eight, and Riley sat curled in one of the comfortable big wicker chairs on the deck of her rental, hoping the bright sunshine of the warming day would do something about the coldness inside her.
A hot shower hadn't helped, nor had one of Ash's excellent breakfasts. Not that she had noticed what she was eating; it was merely fuel to provide the energy she so desperately needed.
And she wasn't even sure that was still working.
She stared at the ocean, her gaze occasionally roaming as she absently watched more than a dozen of the island's dog owners taking their pets for a last run before the "dog curfew" that kept them off the beach during most of the day.
Such a nice, pleasant summer morning, filled with nice, pleasant activities. Normal activities. Normal people. She doubted any of them was watching the world as they knew it spinning out of control.
"Here." Ash sat down in the chair beside hers, handing her a large mug of coffee. "Even in the sun, you're still shivering."
"Thanks." Riley sipped the coffee for a few minutes, aware that he was watching her, waiting. Finally, she sighed and turned a bit in the chair to face him. "So. Where had we gotten to?"
"We had gone over the meeting at the sheriff's department yesterday morning. You seem to remember all that clearly."
She nodded.
"Okay. And I gather you remember most of the conversation between us afterward, about why you'd asked me to get involved officially in the investigation. That was when you finally told me about the attack on Sunday night. That it had affected your memory a little and your senses a lot. You said you wanted someone you could trust to keep an eye on you in case the attack had caused more damage than you already knew about."
Riley sorted through what "memories" she had, wondering again which knowledge or seeming knowledge she could trust. "I didn't tell you I had forgotten most of the last three weeks?"
Ash frowned. "No, that's not what you said. You didn't remember the attack or the hours before it happened. You didn't remember why you had gone out or where you had gone that night. That's what you told me. That's all you told me."
"Oh."
"Riley, are you saying now that you didn't remember anything about the last few weeks?"
"Bits and pieces, but-" She sighed. "Dammit, in my head we've had this conversation before. I didn't remember us, but once you touched me I knew we were lovers, I felt what was between us, and that was the one thing in this whole damn screwy situation I was sure of. So don't get pissed that I was faking my way through our relationship, because I wasn't, not in any way that counted. Fumbling a little, I'll grant you. But not faking."
"You were…very convincing," he said finally.
"Now, see, you're getting pissed again. Please don't make me repeat the speech about how I was affected by what happened to me on Sunday night and how it left me scrambling to catch up on everything, not just us."
Dryly, he said, "Sorry, but I wasn't there the first time."
"Yes, you were." Riley shook her head. "At least that's the way I remember it. Damn, it was-is-so real in my mind. I don't understand this. Any of it."
Ash eyed her thoughtfully. "Well, you're still shaking a bit, but you also seem to be taking this very calmly."
She didn't bother to explain that in the SCU, one learned to handle unexpected things thrown at one without warning.
Or else one washed out of the SCU. Rather quickly.
Instead, all she said was, "I'm not calm, I'm numb. Big difference."
"Riley, maybe you should go back to Quantico."
"No." The response came instantly, without thought, and as soon as she heard herself say it Riley felt the rightness of it, the certainty. She wasn't sure of much, but she was absolutely certain she had to stay the course here. It went against logic and reason, to say nothing of all her training, but it was what she felt.
And how can I trust what I feel any more than what I think? Is this genuine instinct fighting its way through all the bewilderment of lost memories and unreliable senses, or just bloody-minded determination not to quit before the job is done?
It could have been either. Or neither.
Ash reclaimed her attention, saying, "Look, we both know-or at least I hope you know-that I do not want you to leave. I've been gathering all the arguments I can think of for you to transfer down here, maybe work out of the Charleston FBI field office. But you'd said you were considering taking a full six weeks off, so I thought I had a bit more time to make my case."
Momentarily distracted-not surprisingly, considering the current state of her mind-Riley said, "Six weeks? I said I was thinking of staying-what is it now?-another two weeks?"
He nodded. "Saturday, you'll have been here four weeks."
"That doesn't make sense either," she murmured. By the previous Sunday night, she had to have known that Bishop and the rest of the team were all but overwhelmed with cases; she might not have checked in with him, but it was her habit to keep tabs on the unit wherever she was, and she couldn't imagine a situation in which she would have been contemplating an extension of her "vacation" knowing how thinly stretched the SCU resources were.
"Thanks a lot," Ash said.
Riley shook her head. "It has nothing to do with us. Bishop's current investigation is a serial killer on the rampage in Boston, making the national news on a daily basis, and I would have known the other teams were just as busy; the SCU is strained to its absolute limits right now. It wouldn't have been in character for me to decide to stay here on what was supposed to be a minor and unofficial investigation."
"Minor?"