Stolen Memories

by Liz Johnson

  Almost.

  “No. Yes.” Something prickled at the back of her eyes, and she pinched them closed to fight the building moisture. “I don’t know.”

  Zach rubbed the back of her wrist with a gentle motion, making figure eights with his forefinger. “It’s okay. Just do the best you can.” When she looked up from the movements of his finger, she found his eyes filled with compassion, a worried frown puckering the skin between his eyebrows.

  “I’m pretty sure that the man here wasn’t the man in your picture. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.” She leaned against her pile of pillows, letting her eyes droop.

  Walking across the room and trying to remember an unknown face had sapped her energy. At least the interview was over. It was time for a nap.

  But the marshals had another question. “Julie, were you alone the night that you were attacked?” This from Josh, who met her gaze with kindness but an intensity that she could not fathom.

  “You mean, was I with Frank Adams? I don’t know.” She let out a quick sigh. “I—I don’t think so. But I don’t know anything for sure.”

  “Not Frank. Was there anyone else with you before your attack?”

  “Who?”

  Zach ran a hand over his face but didn’t release her fingers from his grip.

  “I was with someone.” The words rushed forward on a breath, a strange combination of question and certainty, followed immediately by a hiccup. With trembling fingers she wiped a hair off her forehead. “Who was I— How do you know?”

  Serena opened her mouth, but Zach shot the marshal a look and cut in. “You were caught on a security camera a couple blocks from Webster Park.”

  “What? What was on it? What did it show? I wasn’t alone?”

  He nodded.

  Her breathing lost all rhythm, every inhalation a surprise, every exhalation too fast. “Who was it? Who was I with? Was I with Frank?”

  “No.” Zach jabbed his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, as though he didn’t want to see her reaction when he told her the truth. “You were carrying a baby.”

  “A baby?” The words whisked around her mind, making almost no sense. They were testing her, trying to see what she remembered. She couldn’t have had a child with her. Could she? She pressed a hand to her stomach. “My baby? Do I have a baby?” Her voice rose with each word until it filled the room, carrying down the hallway. “I’d remember if I had a baby, wouldn’t I?”

  Pressing a palm against her cheek, Zach forced her to meet his gaze, despite her rapid blinking. “We don’t believe it’s yours. Your doctor said you show no signs of having given birth in the last year.”

  Her breathing slowed as tears rushed to the forefront. Maybe they were from relief. “It’s not mine.” More likely they were from fear. “But where is it? What happened to it?”

  “We were hoping you could tell us that.”

  FIVE

  “I don’t remember carrying a baby.”

  Zach held his breath as Julie’s grip on his hand tightened. Her arms trembled, and he tried to hold steady, giving her every bit of strength he could, but the disbelief in her voice shook him to the core.

  With pinched eyes and whispered words, she continued, “I can’t— It’s all a blank.” The vibrato in her last word was a witness to the truth and the fear of the unknown. The unremembered. “Are you sure that it was me? Maybe it was someone else with a baby. Why would I be carrying a baby that isn’t mine?”

  Big brown eyes pleaded with him to say that there had been a mix-up. But he’d seen the video himself. He’d watched it at least half a dozen times.

  There could be no mistake. It was Julie. And she was carrying a now-missing child.

  His heart burned. More accurately, the spot just below his sternum roiled with the pain that the quick shake of his head must have caused her. “It’s not a mistake.”

  She slipped her hand out of his, the chill it left reaching far below his skin. “I don’t know why you were carrying a baby. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

  “It just doesn’t make any sense. What happened to it? Is—is it my fault that the baby is gone? Do you think I had something to do with the disappearance?”

  Serena and Josh gave each other a knowing look, one that Julie didn’t miss.

  “You do! You think I had something to do with this whole thing. You think I took that baby.” There were no questions in the deluge, just her eyes growing wider and filling with tears as the realization sank in.

  This was not going well. Holding up his hands, palms facing out, he said, “Whoa. No one is accusing you of anything. We’re all on the same team, looking for the same missing child.”

  Josh gave a reluctant dip of his chin, as much of an agreement as they were going to get from him. “Are you sure you can’t remember? Anything would help. A face? A location? A name?” Josh’s tone went beyond an unsolved case and missing children. Of course he cared about finding the kids, but there was something deeper, something more, something personal about this case. Desperation rang in his every word. And it added to the terrible weight that hunched Julie’s shoulders and wrinkled her brow.

  “Of course she’s sure. She’s already told you that.” His response more terse than he’d anticipated, Zach let out a long sigh and plowed his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

  Serena stepped in front of Josh, offering Julie a gentle smile. “I know this is scary, but if you remember anything, we need to know as soon as possible.” She pulled a business card from her coat pocket and held it out until Julie took it with shaking fingers. “Please call me if there’s any change. All right?”

  Julie nodded slowly, sinking against the pillow at the inclined head of the bed.

  “I’ll walk you out.” Zach followed the marshals out of the room, down the hall and into the elevator, but no one said a word until they stepped back outside, into the relative privacy of the deserted entrance.

  “I’m guessing you know what my hunch is.” Josh broke the silence, and his eyes didn’t waver as he delivered the line.

  “I know. But I don’t agree. She’s not working with Frank or whoever took that baby. She can’t be.”

  Although her facial features were softer, Serena’s tone was no less firm. “How can you be so sure?”

  Good question. And it should have an easy answer, but somehow he knew that a gut instinct wouldn’t convince these professionals. How about the look of trust in her eyes when he was near? That probably wouldn’t do it, either. What about the quickening of his heart every time he saw her? Were they proof that Julie wasn’t mixed up with a man possibly connected to at least one missing child and maybe more? Unfortunately not. They were nothing more than an indication that he was invested in solving this case.

  Pushing his hands into his pockets, he stared at the underside of the overhang for a long moment. “If she’s working with or for Frank Adams, why did someone try to kill her last night?”

  “Tying up loose ends.”

  Zach shrugged. Josh had a point. “Maybe. But her prints aren’t anywhere in the system.”

  Serena’s eyebrows rose. “Even the national database?”

  “Well, I’m not sure on that. I’m still waiting to hear back on IAFIS. There was a backlog. Maybe you could do something to help speed that along?”

  Josh rubbed his flat palms together. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  “I’d be grateful. And until we can confirm or deny Julie’s story, I’ll keep an eye on her and an eye out for Frank. If she was working for him, he may be looking for her. For one reason or another.” The thought made his skin crawl. If Adams was somehow connected to Julie’s case—or with those missing kids—Zach would do anything to get his hands on the other man and make sure that he paid for whatever he’d done. “I’ll work this case until it’s solved, no matter if or how Frank Adams is involved.”

  Josh extended his hand. “We’ll keep looking for that missing child, too. Keep us in th
e loop on your side of things?”

  “You got it.” Zach shook the offered hand and nodded at Serena, who waved.

  “Thank you for your time.”

  As the marshals walked across the parking lot, Zach stared up at the puffy white clouds rolling across the sky. “We could sure use a little help down here. Would You mind giving Julie back her memory?” He waited for a flash of lightning or something to indicate that God was answering with an immediate affirmative, but after several long seconds with no visible response, he tucked his hands back into his pockets and nodded. “Would You take care of that baby then until we can find it?”

  Peace settled over him as he spun and walked back into the hospital. And if he wore serenity like a coat when he returned to Julie’s room, she was shrouded in a cloak of panic. Tears streamed down her cheeks; her red-rimmed eyes darted back and forth, searching for any history she could grasp.

  He settled onto the edge of her bed and reached for her hand, which she had twisted into the top sheet. Pressing it between his palms, he watched her face closely until she met his gaze. Her mouth opened and closed, as she clearly struggled to find the words she wanted.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said again.

  “How can you say that? How do you know that?” The volume of her words rose, carrying to the corners of the room, her free hand just as animated. “What if I really am working with that…that Frank guy? What if I am a criminal?”

  “Okay.” He squeezed his hands together, surrounding hers until her eyes no longer looked like they belonged to a hunted deer. “Take a deep breath.” She followed his lead, in through the nose and out through the mouth, shoulders rising and falling in easy succession.

  “Good. Now listen to me very carefully. Unless you’ve been making calls to him sometime in the last three days, you are not currently working with ‘that Frank guy.’ You’re not currently breaking any laws, and if ten years on the force has taught me anything, you weren’t breaking them before your attack.”

  Long lashes fell against her cheeks, and she shook her head. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Easy. Perps don’t become friends with cops.”

  She peeked at him, hope tugging at the corners of her pink lips. “We’re friends?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Well…you’re a case—one I intend to solve. So until then, we’re going to stick close together.” He didn’t repeat the deeper truth: until whoever had left her for dead was caught, she was still in danger. And he wasn’t about to leave her vulnerable to another attack if he could help it.

  A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he swiped it aside with his thumb.

  “What about the baby I was holding?” She pulled her hand from his and wrapped her arms around her stomach as if protecting an unborn child.

  Except she’d never carried one. Right? The doctor had confirmed it. Was the motion just a natural feminine reaction? Or was there something more that he didn’t know?

  Swallowing the urge to pull her into his arms and promise to hold her until this whole scenario began to make sense, he only offered a gentle smile. “Our first step is figuring out who you are. Once we identify you, we’ll find your friends and family. Then maybe one of them can tell us who the baby is and how it ended up with you.”

  Her nod was slow, thoughtful and sad. “I wish I could do more. I just feel so…so…”

  Helpless. He knew the feeling. And the fear of saying it aloud.

  But he saw it in the hunch of her shoulders and the silver streaks running down her face. There was just nothing he could do to fix her.

  “I’ll keep looking. I’ll keep asking. I promise. I’m scouring the neighborhood where you were caught on camera. I think I’ve talked to every busboy, hostess and bartender in a ten-block radius. No leads yet, but I’m not giving up on you.”

  “But how are we going to figure out who I am if no one remembers me?”

  As he scratched his chin, a nurse in blue scrubs clambered into the room, trailed by her rolling electronic work station.

  “I’m not quite sure of that. But we’ll keep working on it,” he said. “Together.”

  “Good news,” the nurse announced. “I think we’re going to be able to release you from the ICU today. You’re healing right up.”

  “But what about my mem-memory?” Julie’s eyebrows knit together so tight they formed a single line.

  The nurse tapped on the keyboard of her laptop on the rolling stand. “The doctor hasn’t said anything new about that. But you’re right on schedule.”

  His heart leaped. Maybe they would know everything soon. “On schedule?”

  “Yes, your physical injuries are healing right in the normal range.”

  He glanced at Julie, whose face shone with the same hope he felt. “And her amnesia?”

  “Oh, there’s no time line for recovery from amnesia.”

  *

  “You sure you’ve never seen this girl?” Zach stabbed a hand through his hair and stopped just long enough to tug on it. Maybe if he pulled it out, he wouldn’t spend every day thinking and every night dreaming about how he was going to solve this case. “It was five nights ago around ten o’clock.”

  In the dim light cascading over glass bottles behind him, the bartender held Julie’s picture to his nose. “Nope. I remember all the pretty faces. I’d definitely have remembered her.”

  That wasn’t in doubt. With big brown eyes, a kind smile and porcelain skin, Zach didn’t need to ask if she was pretty. He just needed a name. “What if her hair was a little longer? Like this.” He held out the digitally modified image of Julie—the one the visual guys at the department had altered by touching up her black eye and giving her long hair again.

  “Nope.” The barkeep handed the image back across the wooden slab and set back to work with his cleaning cloth. “She missing or something?”

  “Yeah. Something like that.” Zach tipped his head, pocketing the photos into the front of his jacket. “Thanks for your time.”

  The bartender, wearing the unstated uniform, tugged at the collar of his tight black T-shirt. “Want me to keep an eye out for her?”

  Turning toward the front door, Zach shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  He knew where she was. Just not who she was.

  The sign above the door read Secrets in big red letters, outlined with small white bulbs. Well, if Julie had been there, then the bar was certainly living up to its name. Whatever secrets this block held, it wasn’t eager to give them up. This was his fourth stop in an hour, and no one had recognized either of the pictures.

  Sunlight reflected off a passing car, and he squinted against its surprising brilliance. After being in dank bars for longer than he wanted, Zach sucked in the crisp air and warmth of the sun.

  There was only one more window front lining the block, its front entrance comprised of twelve rectangular panes set into the green wooden door. With clovers stenciled around the threshold and bay windows, it could be nothing but a traditional Irish pub.

  At his wrist a bell jangled on the door handle as he stepped inside.

  “We’re not open yet.” A woman with a long black braid stood at the wooden podium adjacent to the door. As she stuffed paper menus into black leather holders, she followed his motions with eyes nearly as dark as her hair.

  Zach grabbed the badge that hung on the chain around his neck and held it out toward her. “Detective Jones with the Minneapolis P.D.”

  Leaning her elbows on her hostess stand and planting her chin on stacked hands, she blinked up at him. “Civilian Wendy Caruthers. What can I do for you, Officer?”

  There was something about the breathy quality of her words, the tilt of her grin. If his brothers had been there, they would have jabbed him in the side and mimicked her tone. His sister, Samantha, would have just laughed at him and told him to ask her out. But since he was alone, he could pretend that he hadn’t noticed she was flirting with him.

  Or maybe he could leverage it
to get the answers he needed.

  He quirked the corner of his mouth to match hers. “I’m looking for someone who might have been in here last Friday night. Any chance you were working?”

  “I was at the bar the whole night.” She tipped her head toward the row of stools in front of a long wooden slab. It was empty now, but in a few hours, it would be crushed with bodies pressing in, looking for something that couldn’t be found in the bottom of any bottle. “Who you looking for?”

  Reaching into the pocket in the front of his jacket, he produced both pictures, holding them steady under her careful gaze.

  “I don’t recognize her, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t here. We had a rush on Friday after the hockey game let out.”

  At least she’d recognized Julie as the same person in both pictures. Several of the men on the block hadn’t been able to manage that.

  “Are you sure? She might have had a baby with her.”

  A frown marred the woman’s attractive face. “Melinda, our hostess, said something about a girl with a kid. On Friday night?”

  His heart beat in a crescendo, harder and louder with every second. “Yes. Friday night. Sometime around ten or maybe just before. Can I talk with her?”

  “Oh.” Wendy’s frown deepened. “Melinda’s out of the country right now. She’s on her honeymoon.”

  Zach’s shoulders fell as a sigh escaped. “Did she say anything at all to you about the girl who was here with a baby? Would Melinda have talked to someone else? Was there anyone else working the front door? A bouncer maybe?”

  Wendy swept her gaze over the empty tables lining the dining area, past the small stage and single stool on it. “I don’t think so. She was alone all night and keeps to herself mostly, but she’ll be back next Tuesday.”

  “All right. Have her call me as soon as she gets back?” He held out his card, and she took it, brushing her fingers against his as she smiled. That was definitely flirting.

  Lots of girls found the badge and gun appealing. But it took the right kind of woman to be with a homicide detective.

  And he hadn’t come close to finding one of those in the past few years.