Forgetting Jane

by C. J. Warrant

  His absence made Jane’s heart race and she wasn’t able to breathe. Her stomach pulled tight and her temples ached. Jane tried to shake it off her anxiousness but it rose anyway.

  Focus. No crying!

  Jane turned to the clothes in her lap. She furrowed her brows as she lifted the tie-dye t-shirt three times her size to her chest. “Whose are these?”

  “Lost and found.”

  “Really?” Jane examined the white Keds with no laces and a pair of grey sweat pants with the holes at the knees. “Someone actually wore this stuff?”

  “They are good enough for now.” Magda waved off Jane’s scrutiny.

  Jane swung her legs off the bed to slip on the grey baggy sweat pants. “Whoa, I feel sick.” She clutched at Magda’s arm for stability.

  “It’s the sedative. It’ll wear off soon. Breathe through it. You can rest in the car.”

  With help from Magda, Jane got dressed and slipped on the shoes. As she slid herself into the wheelchair, bile rose—she wanted to throw up. Jane swallowed down the nasty liquid, and shivered down the burn in her throat.

  Magda covered her up with a blanket so as not to show her clothing. Jane snagged the cover tight around her, to protect herself from the cold.

  Magda went out to the hall and made sure it was empty. She rushed back in, “All clear,” and quickly pushed Jane out into the empty hallway.

  As they headed to the back elevator, Jane’s vision teetered in and out of focus. A nauseated stomach was the worst thing to have when one was in a rush. Magda tried to push the wheelchair at a steady pace but failed miserably.

  Rounding the corner, she spotted Eli with Tom at the end of the hall, at the nurses’ station. Magda jerked the wheelchair to a halt. “Sorry.” And spun Jane around and wheeled her in the other direction.

  The bile rose—acid burned the back of her throat. She swallowed it down with slight difficulty. Whoever said roller coaster rides were fun was fucked in the head, Jane thought as she breathed in and out slow and deep to ease the dizziness.

  “I guess we’re taking the service elevator instead,” Magda leaned in and whispered.

  As they approached the wide double doors, one of the night nurses passed them. “Miss Magda, why are you still here and where are you off to with Jane?”

  “I’m taking her to x-rays, then I’m heading home.”

  “Would you like me to take her so you can go?”

  “No—thank you, Abby. It won’t take long. You go about your rounds.”

  “Have a good night, Miss Magda. Or good morning.” The nurse chuckled and walked away.

  “Bye,” Magda called over her shoulder. “That was close,” she lowered and whispered in Jane’s ear. She then patted Jane on the shoulders and then pushed her faster.

  Jane remained quiet while they made it to the service elevator—down the back corridor toward the double metal doors that led to the outside.

  The cold wind chafed Jane’s face right away, though her dizziness began to subside. She took a deep breath in and let the chill clear her head.

  Down the wide ramp, Jane finally had a sense of ease settle over her. Of course, it didn’t help that the old woman behind her pushed her like an epileptic. Jane just held onto the armrest and prayed Magda’s car was close.

  The vehicle was at the back end of the parking lot. By the time they reached the gray Corolla, Jane’s dizziness and nausea had dissipated. She was able to breathe a lot better with the icy air in her lungs.

  Jane had to smile as she watched another day born. Just like her life, with each new day, she was one step closer to her identity and that was all she could hope for.

  Magda helped Jane into the passenger side, slipped the seatbelt over her shoulder and clipped it—closed the door and slipped into the driver’s side. She started the car without trouble and let it run for a few minutes to warm up. No one said a word. Silence was good.

  It was light enough that Magda didn’t need the headlights. She put the shift to drive and slowly drove out of the parking out, passing the hospital main entrance.

  Jane hoped that no one was watching. That’s all they needed—to attract attention.

  As they passed the single fir tree Jane had deemed hers, the back of her head began a pulsating ache and her temples felt compressed in a vise. She folded forward and took deep breaths to push the pain away. Just ignore it.

  “Jane, are you all right?” Magda asked, slowing the car. “What’s wrong?”

  Jane turned her attention to the base of the tree, where she had seen the girl in a yellow dress. She rubbed at her watery eyes and looked again. She was gone, and so was the pain. “Nothing. Just dizzy and my stomach hurts,” Jane lied.

  “It won’t take long. Can you hold on a little longer?”

  Jane nodded. “Yes.” She leaned her forehead against the cool window as though it was a cold compress. It gave some relief as a chill that settled over her body. Magda shivered—the cold and old people don’t mix. The heat blowing through the vents wasn’t helping Jane, but she kept her mouth shut.

  She glanced back at the tree and saw nothing there but the swaying branches.

  She wasn’t sure why she kept seeing this girl. But Jane didn’t want to think about her anymore. She blanked her mind and turned her attention to the road ahead.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “How’s Jane doing?” Tom asked.

  “She’s scared, but she’s doing better now. Dr. Rollins cleared a room in the psych wing. I think it will be the safest part of the hospital for her,” Eli said. He tapped on the evidence kit Tom laid on the nurses’ station. “Did you check the security cameras? Was there anything on the video? What about the staff—did they see anything?”

  “Whoa. One question at a time, please. My head is still spinning.” Tom took out a pad from his pocket. “The staffing is minimal at this hour. I talked to the cleaning staff and they saw nothing out of the ordinary. Ryan got the statements from the few nurses that were on duty and they said the same thing. Nothing showed up on the security cameras either. I dusted for prints on the bed and the door handle, but have a feeling they’re Jane’s.

  “I pulled a few partial prints, but I don’t think they are enough to get a concise match. Now, Eli, if there is nothing else, I’d like to head home. The sun is coming up and I need to get a few hours’ shut-eye,” Tom said firmly.

  Eli ignored his gripe. “We need to rush this evidence to Madison. I know there’s something on that wrapper. There has to be a fingerprint or DNA we can use. We can’t sit on this. I’ll call CLS as soon as I get to the station. I want both the wrapper and ripped up card.”

  “The last time they were here, the lab took almost two weeks to get us back the results,” Tom snickered as he opened up the case and handed both baggies to Eli.

  “I know.” Eli studied the purple foil. “This might be the only clue to this case and I don’t want anything messing this up. I’ll call my friend, Mike. He owes me a huge favor. He should be able to process the wrapper and card right away.”

  “We’ll catch this asshole soon enough. But I need to get out of here or I’m going to fall over,” Tom said with a yawn.

  “I’m going to take the evidence to Madison. Mike’s my friend,” Eli insisted. “I’m going to leave right away, so you will need to keep things in order. I should—”

  Tom blew out a heavy breath, interrupting Eli. “You’re needed here more than me. I’ll take it and make sure the evidence gets into your friend’s hands.” He grasped Eli’s shoulder. “Okay?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I need sleep though. It’s Sunday, right? Mike won’t be at the lab. I’ll head on out first thing early tomorrow morning. I can get there in no time at all. I’ll drop the evidence off, then head back. Hopefully we can get the results right away. I’ll be gone maybe eight hours tops,” Tom said in an expelled breath.

  His deputy was right. Eli had no choice but to let Tom go. If there was evidence on the wrappe
r, he’d have DNA proof who was after Jane. Until then, he had to keep up the pretenses.

  “All right, you’ll go.” Eli adjusted his cap. “When you get to Madison, ask for Mike Mansfield. I’ll let him know you’re coming. Have Mike call me immediately on the findings.”

  “How do you know this guy?” Tom asked as he picked up the kit and took the bagged evidence from Eli.

  “He’s an army buddy of mine,” Eli replied. He followed his deputy to the elevator.

  “Are you sure he’ll take care of this right away?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  The deputy slightly bowed his head. “Okay. Now that it’s set, can I go home and sleep? My head is swimming.”

  “Head out.”

  Tom straightened, snapped his teeth together. “Thanks boss,” he said in his usual smartass tone. “Seriously though, I’m glad Jane’s safe.”

  Eli let out light huff. “Me too. She’s in a secure location now and that bastard can’t get to her.”

  “I think that bastard thinks he can get to her no matter where she’s at.”

  “Trust me, Tom, she can’t be touched where she is,” Eli said. He rolled his shoulder to not let his strained muscles get to him, or the lie.

  “I hope you’re right,” Tom voiced softly. “I’m out.”

  “As soon as you can.” Seriousness coated Eli’s voice.

  “Will do.” Tom saluted and quickly turned his attention to the redheaded nurse that passed them. He strode off toward her. “Just want to say hi, then I’ll be off,” he called out with a big grin.

  Eli shook his head. He guessed no matter the urgency, booty call came first—over sleep. Doors to the elevator opened and Ryan came out. “Chief.”

  “Ryan, I need you to go through the national database again and narrow the search to Jane’s description, matching the age of twenty-six. Oh and change her hair color to light brown or dark blonde—maybe we can get a hit on that.”

  Ryan wrote down the information. “Is that all?”

  “There is nothing else to be done here, so start your search. I’ll see you later.”

  Eli went to new Jane’s room and found it empty. He hoped that Magda and Jane got out without being seen.

  He lingered around the hospital for about thirty minutes more. With caution, he kept watch for anything or anyone unusual. This bastard was sly—but not all that cautious, which was his mistake. The condom wrapper proved that.

  Eli finally left the hospital. The cold morning air grazed his face like a crisp lined sheet—hard but welcoming. He sucked in the chill and let it filter through his system. A Marlboro would be nice and a coffee too.

  He went straight to the Barn, got his usual coffee and sipped the brew slowly. Once the caffeine filtered through his system, he took a turn around the town before driving to the station.

  Down Main Street, Betty’s Cafe was filled with their usual Sunday morning customers, churchgoers. Sundays were for church—but by no means he went. His views of religion were private, meant only for him and his maker.

  Only a four-block radius—end to end, nothing much happened on Sunday in Beaver Ridge. The town was dead.

  Sundays meant easy going. The only shops open were the Coffee Barn, which Eli appreciated, Standy’s Hardware and Porters Grocer run by Mrs. Choy.

  A slight grumble brought him back to Betty’s. Breakfast would be good, but ever since Jane was found—his appetite was next to nil.

  Jane.

  The trepidation and fear in Jane’s eyes as he left her room dug down into his gut. He wasn’t abandoning her—though he felt just like it.

  He kept reminding himself he couldn’t get close to her. The last time he got too involved, he got the victim killed. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

  Eli pulled up to the station and remembered to call his forensic buddy Mike. He took out his cell phone and dialed his number. After he left a quick message, he downed the last of the coffee before tossing the empty cup into the garbage.

  With the police station at minimal staff, Eli walked into the quiet building. His plan was to do some paperwork, clean out a little bit of the office and then head home. Though, the whole time his thoughts were on Jane and Magda, hoping they made it to their destination.

  Beth and Cindy Lee had already arrived for their morning shifts. Eli gathered the two officers and explained what happened and the details of the evidence.

  “We will have to cover Tom’s shift for twenty-four hours, while he’s gone. We’ll work the usual rotations. Cindy, radio Ryan to cover the first half of Tom’s shift. I will handle the second half. Beth, you will cover town and Cindy, you will handle the station as usual.”

  Both women acknowledged and went on as ordered. Beth didn’t look happy.

  Right before Eli closed the door to his office, he overheard her telling Cindy about babies. He quickly shut the door. He didn’t want to hear the rest. Too up close and personal for his liking.

  He let out a breath of relief. The wood paneled walls of his office were thick enough that he wouldn’t hear the women’s chatter.

  After Eli hung his hat and coat on top of the coat, he took out his phone and dialed Magda’s cell phone. She didn’t answer, which made him nervous. He trusted Magda, so he left a message to call back.

  The large clock on the wall read nine. He had an hour or so to kill before he headed out. He looked over at the piles of magazines and old folders piled up on the cabinets. He decided to clear out Chief Henley’s stuff. The ten by ten space needed a little more breathing room. It was time for his things to go.

  With a mélange of papers and folders stacked two feet tall on the cabinets, Eli had his work cut out for him.

  “Why in the hell did he keep all this crap?” He sifted through five inches of thick mangled old paperwork—which dated back as far as the early nineties.

  He slid the rectangular garbage can with his foot next to him, grabbed a stack of old magazines on top of the smaller cabinet and chucked them one at a time. The next pile Eli grabbed slipped out of his hands, knocking the rest on the larger cabinet. Folders and magazines spilt like confetti onto the floor.

  “Shit.” As he bent over to pick up the mess, he stopped. “What the— ”

  A collection of dead women’s photos scattered—flitted down on top of the magazines. They stared back at him. Stunned at what he was seeing, Eli bent over and counted forty lifeless faces. Some of the photos were black and white, the rest in faded color.

  Some of the faces were beaten badly and some were flawless. Most had deep slash marks on their arms and legs. There were a few that had their wrists gouged deep and crisscross markings on their cheeks.

  The more he examined the pictures, he realized they all had one commonality. All the women were buried. Eli assumed it might be the same killer who murdered all those women.

  What were you working on, old man? The way Henley did things weren’t generally normal. The man had secrets. The old chief could have been working on a case without anyone else involved before he killed himself.

  Eli’s heart sped up. His gut twisted tight as he placed the pictures in a folder and placed them on the desk.

  When he turned the photos over, all of them had two sets of numbers in the corners.

  One could be dates, but the other number wasn’t making sense. Possible codes Henley gave in direct connection to something—but what?

  Some of the pictures dated back as far as forty-five years to the most recent—about five years ago. Eli looked at the most recent victim and quickly recognized the officer kneeling in the picture. The woman was discovered two counties over.

  The similarities between the photo and Jane were uncanny. They were beaten, hair dyed black, and they had the same slash marks on their arms—only Jane’s limbs were slashed in the hospital. And she was alive.

  He wouldn’t speculate until he made a few calls to corroborate what his gut knew. But Eli would bet his life on the fact that it had to be the same person or a cop
ycat.

  “Now why would you hide these pictures between hunting mags?” Eli spoke out loud as though Henley was in the room.

  If Henley was working on a case, why didn’t he tell anyone about it? This was huge. With the amount of victims in that file, he had to have some help. The situation made no sense. But lately, a lot of things weren’t making any sense. Including Henley.

  He’d been a meticulous man. He’d crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s several times to make sure they were permanent—bit of an over-compulsive.

  Eli started a list of lead officers who were in charge of those cases. Contacting them was his first priority, but not before he cleaned up the mess on the floor.

  He put the folder off to the side and finished picking up. He was more careful, in case something else fell out. As he picked up the rest of the magazines off the floor, he noticed a small folded piece of paper under one of the filing cabinets.

  Eli retrieved the palm-sized paper and unfolded it. There were words, letters and symbols, of which some were barely legible. Right away, he recognized some of the keys on the hand drawn map. Beaver Ridge was scrawled in the center, with Beaver Lake to the left. Other towns were written in tinier print.

  A small simple legend was at one corner of the paper. There were dots scattered around the town. Some dots were as far out, five towns over.

  The dots were scattered into the adjoining counties too, into the back woods that only hunters go. There were lines, but they didn’t all connect. Some crisscrossed, though Eli wasn’t sure what it meant.

  There were two different initials, one next to each dot. They were written so small that Eli wasn’t sure on the letters.

  He grabbed his magnifying glass from his drawer and took a closer look at the dots and lines segmented on the diagram. There were a lot of dots around the lake.

  Beth knocked and peeked her head in. “Chief?”

  “What, Beth?” He quickly folded up the paper and shoved it in his shirt pocket.

  “Tom called in. He left and is near route 39. He’ll call as soon as he gets there.”