Jack approached the hospital bed, creasing his face into a look of concentration. Something about the boy reminded him of Yasir, the boy who had put him on the right track in Afghanistan. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie.”
Jack peered at the TV, scratching his chin. He studied the wrestler in the sparkly cape, presumably Pretty Boy, and the other guy in the black executioner-style mask. “I haven’t seen them fight before, Eddie, but my money’s on Epic, the guy with the black mask, right?”
Eddie smacked his thigh. “That’s what I think, too. What’s your name?”
“Jack.”
“You’re Dr. Lola’s friend?”
“Yep. You, too?”
That smile stole over Eddie’s face again. “Well, she’s my doctor, but she’s my friend, too. But she doesn’t like wrestling. Says it’s too violent.”
A dark cloud passed across Eddie’s face, and his hands clutched at the sheets.
“Epic is going to destroy Pretty Boy.” Jack dragged a chair next to the bed. The bandage wrapping one side of Eddie’s head and the cast encasing his left arm indicated Eddie had seen some violence up close and personal.
Eddie’s face brightened. “Yeah, right? Jesús doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Folding his arms, Jack stretched his legs in front of him. He could watch some of the match with Eddie and meet Lola back at Lesley’s office. Or Lesley would tell her she’d given him Eddie’s room number. The kid could obviously use some companionship, and for some reason Jack didn’t want to disappoint him.
Eddie oohed and aahed over the wrestlers’ fake moves, and Jack gave him a fist bump when Epic tossed Pretty Boy out of the ring.
A news break came on after the first round of the fight, and Eddie yawned. Jack trained his attention on the footage of President Okeke, the leader of a new African country, which had apparently gone through some recent turmoil. As he studied the president’s beaming face, a shaft of pain sliced through Jack’s head.
Then the fight came back on and the pain receded. Jack dashed a bead of sweat from his forehead. He didn’t want to freak the kid out with one of his attacks.
“Excuse me.”
Jack jumped along with Eddie at the intrusion of a heavyset nurse with red hair.
“Who are you and what are you doing in this room?”
“I’m watching Epic destroy Pretty Boy.”
The nurse frowned as Eddie giggled. “And you are…?”
“I’m Jack. I’m a friend of Dr. Famosa’s and I came here looking for her.”
Clicking her tongue, she pulled a clipboard from the foot of the bed. “Dr. Famosa is in great demand for not even being on duty.”
A whisper of anxiety touched Jack’s flesh. “In demand? Where is Dr. Famosa?”
The nurse glanced up from the clipboard. “She was called down to the—” her gaze slid to Eddie and she dropped her voice “—the morgue.”
Jack’s throat tightened. The morgue. That was where Lola had thought he’d been stalking her. But it hadn’t been him at all. She’d had another stalker that night.
LOLA SMACKED THE BUTTON in the elevator and cursed. Why couldn’t Dr. Trapp just tell her the information on the phone? He had to show her? Besides, she hadn’t been interested in the details of Eddie’s mom’s autopsy. That wasn’t going to help her treat Eddie.
She hated coming to the morgue, even in the middle of the day. The pathology department was around the corner from the elevator, and they kept their doors closed. So if Dr. Trapp or his assistant wasn’t in the morgue, the place was deserted unless the coroner’s van was delivering a body…or two.
As the elevator swooshed down, Lola checked her watch. Jack and Lesley should be wrapping things up. A spiral of anxiety whirled in her stomach. Would Jack’s memory return? Would he be able to give her some information on Gabe? Would he walk out of her life forever?
She held on to the strap of her purse with two hands. The man already had a fully formed life somewhere else. He didn’t belong in hers. If he hadn’t lost his memory, they never would’ve met each other in person. He would’ve remained that disembodied voice over a prepurchased cell phone. That disembodied, sexy voice over the phone. He’d set her blood on fire with that voice alone. What he did to her in person…
The elevator doors squeaked as they slid open. She’d have to put in a work order for this elevator. Every time they opened or shut, it sounded like someone screeching. Not a great noise for a hospital…or a morgue.
The long hallway yawned to her left, empty, as usual. The pathology department had set up shop to her right and around the corner, but nobody from that department was in sight. An emergency exit led to an alley on one side, and a larger door next to it provided access for the coroner’s van or ambulances to drop off their lifeless cargo.
This time she didn’t have a key to the morgue. She’d returned it, but she’d just gotten the notice from Dr. Trapp, so he should still be here.
Her boot heels clipped on the floor, echoing in the cavernous emptiness. She grabbed the handle of the door and bumped it with her hip. It didn’t budge. She knocked and put her ear to the door. No response.
Cupping her face, she rested the edge of her hand against the narrow window and peered inside the lighted room. She didn’t have a clear view of the entire room, so someone could be in there with the corpses. She jiggled the handle.
She sensed a whisper of movement from her right side, and before she could turn around she smelled the ether.
Chapter Eight
Lola’s heart hammered in her chest. She flattened her body against the door and turned her face away from her attacker.
A strong hand gripped the back of her neck while a white cloth descended toward her face. A scream gurgled in her throat, but she didn’t want to open her mouth. She pressed her lips together, dragged a ragged breath in through her nose and held it.
Her assailant smashed the damp cloth against her nose and mouth. The ether caused her nostrils to twitch and tingle. Lowering her shoulder, she plowed into the man, and the cloth on her face slipped.
Lola puffed out a quick breath and sucked in another before the man could readjust the cloth over her face. She reached out her arms to claw at his face, and her fingers met soft material. A black ski mask covered his head and face.
Her lungs ached and she sipped a small breath. The tingling sensation grew stronger, and her limbs felt heavy. Before she lost use of them completely, she kicked out at her attacker and made contact.
He grunted and ground the cloth against her face harder. He just might smother her before he knocked her out.
The elevator dinged, and the tinny, inconsequential sound gave Lola a surge of strength. She smacked her fist against the powerful hand that covered her mouth, but the smack ended up more a pat as the insidious fumes of the ether invaded her brain.
Her attacker began dragging her down the hallway toward the exit as Lola fought for control. The elevator doors squeaked open, and Lola prayed that someone was in that car.
“Hey!”
A man’s voice. Jack’s voice, unless she’d descended into some ether-induced dream state.
She hit the floor and her head banged against the wall. Footsteps. Running. Shouting. The metal exit door clanged open and then shut and then open again.
Lola wiped the sleeve of her sweater across her nose and mouth, afraid to breathe deeply but wanting desperately to dilute the ether clouding her senses.
Squeaky sneakers headed toward her, and Lola lifted her heavy head. Jack’s long, lean form came into focus and she sobbed.
He joined her on the floor, dragging her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. She coughed and choked against his chest, and he stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words.
“Wh-where is he?” She squeezed out the words through her raw throat.
“I’m sorry. He got away, Lola. He had a car waiting outside that exit.” His arms tightened around her. “What was he
trying to do?”
She peeled her wet cheek from his shirt and glanced at the floor. He’d taken the ether-soaked cloth with him. “He was trying to sedate me with ether.”
The enormity of the attack hit her anew and a violent sob wracked her body. Jack smoothed his hands down her back, sweeping away a little of the fear.
“He was going to abduct me.”
“How do you feel? Do you need treatment?”
“I feel kind of sick and woozy. I smelled the ether before he came at me and I held my breath. That helped.”
“Can you stand up?”
“Sure.” Her rubbery legs didn’t seem to want to obey her commands, but she could do it with Jack’s help. She leaned against his body as he put a steadying arm around her shoulders.
“A nurse told me you’d been called down here. Who sent you the message?”
“Dr. Trapp. He’s a pathologist and conducts autopsies. He said he had some info on Eddie’s mom. Eddie’s the boy I was visiting.”
“Yeah, I know Eddie.”
Her head dropped to Jack’s shoulder. She was too tired to try to figure out how he knew Eddie.
“You actually talked to Dr. Trapp?”
“No. A nurse relayed the message to me. I just assumed…”
“You assumed it was legit.” Half carrying, half dragging her, Jack made his way back to the elevator. “We’re calling the cops. I suppose you didn’t get a look at the guy beneath his ski mask.”
“No. Dark eyes. That’s all I saw.” Dark, intelligent eyes. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could’ve done so easily in this deserted hallway and made his getaway through the alley exit. So why didn’t he?
“Do you have an office here?” Jack punched the elevator button.
“No. We can call the police from the nurse’s station on the third floor.” Lola ran her tongue around the inside of her parched mouth. “What are we going to tell them this time?”
“The truth.” Jack swept her up in his arms and carried her into the elevator.
Twenty minutes later they faced the police again. Jack’s version of the truth was not exactly the whole, nothing-but kind.
The Cuban cop who had come into the hospital with an accident victim folded his arms across his pumped-up chest. “So Dr. Trapp did not send you a message to meet him at the morgue?”
Lola rubbed her neck, still feeling sore. “Dr. Trapp isn’t even on duty today. The nurse who took the call said the caller’s voice was muffled but she didn’t have any reason to suspect it wasn’t Dr. Trapp.”
“Yeah, I know. I already talked to her. So the guy didn’t hurt you but was trying to abduct you?”
“Well, considering he could’ve strangled me right there in the hallway, that’s what I’m assuming.”
One of the nurses gasped and placed her hand against her throat. “I’m never going down to the basement again.”
The cop’s gaze flicked to the nurse and then strayed to Jack. “You gave chase and the guy had a car waiting? But you didn’t catch a license plate?”
“Like I told you, Officer. The car didn’t have a license plate.”
Jack had been able to give the color, make and model of the car. His amnesia obviously hadn’t affected his perception or short-term memory. He still possessed all the tools and instincts of his trade.
And she still hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him how his session had gone with Lesley.
“Any reason why someone would want to kidnap you, Dr. Famosa?”
“No.” That was the truth. She knew nothing of Gabe’s work.
“I know a reason.” Dr. Jeffers scurried up to the nurse’s station, clutching a clipboard to his chest. “I heard what happened, Dr. Famosa, and I blame myself.”
Lola shifted a quick glance to Jack. “Why? What are you talking about?”
“Elena Hidalgo’s boyfriend, the one who murdered her? They let him out of jail yesterday.”
Lola sucked in a breath and covered her mouth with one hand. “Hector Villagrande beat Eddie to a pulp and murdered Elena. Why is he on the streets?”
“His attorney got him out—something about police misconduct.” Dr. Jeffers shot a hasty glance at the patrol cop and then peered at Lola over the top of his glasses. “I thought about warning you because the boy is your patient and you exchanged words with Villagrande that night the boy and his mother were rushed to the hospital.”
“You think it could’ve been this Villagrande who attacked you?” The cop hunched over the desk, flexing his triceps for the nurses.
“I—I don’t know. He might want to hurt me, but kidnap me? I can’t imagine why he’d do that.”
The officer asked a few more questions. When he turned to leave, he touched Lola’s elbow. “Can I have a word with you in private, Dr. Famosa?”
Jack rested his hand on the curve of her back in a protective manner. And she didn’t mind one bit. “Anything you say to me, you can say in front of my…friend.”
The cop shrugged and the three of them walked toward the elevator together.
Looking both ways down the hall, the officer scratched his chin. “The attack might be connected to Villagrande and we’ll definitely check him out, but I had another thought.”
“Yes?”
He lowered his voice. “Could this have anything to do with your father, Eduardo Famosa?”
Lola straightened her spine, her brows snapping over her nose. “For Pete’s sake. Is that all you cops ever think about? My father’s been dead for three years. Why don’t you go put Hector Villagrande back behind bars where he belongs?”
She spun around and almost lost her balance, but Jack materialized by her side and tucked his arm around her waist. He growled at the cop, “She gave you her number. Call when you have something useful.”
Lola mumbled under her breath as she stalked back to the nurses’ station. “Sheesh, someone bumps my car in the parking lot and these guys are going to blame my father.”
Jack’s hand slid to her hip and he gave her a pat. “You’re half-dazed with ether and you still know how to handle yourself, Lola.”
She plopped down in a plastic chair in the hallway, not feeling at all as if she knew how to handle herself. “I know it’s not my father, but I don’t think it’s Villagrande, either. That cabrón might want to punch me in the face, but he wouldn’t be interested in kidnapping me.”
“I think you’re right. But now the bigger question is why would anyone connected to Gabe want to kidnap you. Someone tried to break into your car. Someone broke into your house. They’re looking for something, Lola.”
Slumping in the chair, she kicked her feet out and crossed one booted ankle over the other. “Problem is I have nothing to give them.”
Jack crouched next to her chair, rubbing his chin. “Maybe they want me.”
“Then why don’t they try kidnapping you?” She waved her hand over his lean, coiled form, with taut muscles, and sensed the absurdity of her words. This man screamed danger. Anyone who attempted to take down Jack would do so at his own risk.
“I don’t know. Maybe they don’t know I’m with you. Maybe they’re trying to get to you to get to me.”
“You’re clutching at straws, Jack.” Bowing her head, Lola rubbed her eyes. He was trying to make her feel better, but she knew she had a bull’s-eye on her back.
He brushed her arm with his fingertips, leaving a path of tingling flesh. “Do you feel any better? I want to get you home.”
“Since Dr. Jacobs already checked me out and gave me the all-clear, let’s get out of here.” She half rose out of the chair and then fell back, clapping a hand over her mouth.
Jack grabbed her hand, concern etching deep lines between his eyebrows. “What is it? Feeling faint?”
“No, feeling like an idiot. I didn’t even ask you how things went with Lesley.”
Relief flooded Jack’s face and his dark eyes glowed with amusement. “You had other things to worry about.”
“Well, how did it g
o?”
“It didn’t. Because of my training, I’m not susceptible to hypnosis. She couldn’t put me under.”
That figured. Despite his incapacity, Jack was forged from steel. He was mentally tough and physically strong and just the sort of man a woman could trust with her life.
Squeezing his hand, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“All is not lost.” He pulled her out of the chair and slung an arm around her shoulders. “The good doctor proposed using truth serum on me.”
Lola stumbled to a stop. “Truth serum? Are you going to try it?”
He shrugged and pulled her toward the elevator. “What do I have to lose?”
An hour later, Lola emerged from the steam of the shower, wrapping her hair in a towel. The encounter at the hospital had made her feel dirty. Although her skin was now squeaky clean, all the scrubbing in the world couldn’t eliminate the vague sense of fear that clung to her flesh.
What did they want from her?
She refused to believe the suspicions of the various cops that any of her mishaps had anything to do with her father. She and Gabe had cut all ties to her father’s business associates, well, except Emilio Diaz…who now lay unconscious in a hospital bed.
Rubbing the mist from the bathroom mirror with a clenched fist, she grimaced at her emerging reflection. Why did so many roads always lead back to dear old Dad?
After massaging her face with moisturizer, she sauntered into the bedroom and yanked open the drawer where she’d stuffed her underwear. She scooped out a pair of black lacy panties and twirled them around her finger once. Why not? It wasn’t every day a scrumptious male specimen inhabited her orbit. Might as well be prepared for anything.
She shimmied into a pair of black leggings and pulled a long sweater over her head. She ran the hair dryer across her head for a few minutes and then padded downstairs in her stocking feet. Taking a deep breath, she rounded the corner and paused. She drank in the sight of Jack hunched over her laptop, a lock of black hair falling over his forehead.
He represented the perfect man—beautifully made, brave and fearless with a clean slate for a past. When he turned out to be married, divorced or responsible for a trail of broken hearts, he wouldn’t appeal to her in the same way. Jack was an illusion, a prince from a fairy-tale land called Amnesia.
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