Stolen Memories

by Liz Johnson

  Fear and longing swept across his face. A sigh lifted and lowered his shoulders. “If I knew for sure that you weren’t married…” He dragged the words out, each one utter misery. A muscle in his shadowed jaw jumped.

  A butterfly swooped inside her, its flight uneven and terrifying. But it carried a certainty that she couldn’t pinpoint. Squeezing his hand that was still in hers, she gave him a wavering smile. “I’m not married.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  She couldn’t tell him the whole truth. If she’d felt even half the range of emotions that Zach induced in her for any other man, she’d have known it from the moment she opened her eyes in that hospital room. Closing her eyes, she let a partial truth out on a breath and a prayer. “He’d have been the first thing I remembered.”

  Suddenly Zach moved, bringing his face close to hers. She could smell his spicy aftershave, feel the warmth of his skin, but he stopped short of what she really wanted.

  Lips tingling in anticipation, she waited, praying he’d do what they’d danced around for days.

  He slipped an arm around her back, pulling her fully against him as they knelt on the unforgiving tile floor. His arm was strong, protective, his fingers soft as they caressed her jaw. His thumb dragged along the line of her lower lip, leaving a path of smoldering embers in its wake.

  Her eyes burned at the tenderness of his touch. After weeks of knowing only pain at the hands of her attacker, she could barely believe that such a strong man could be so gentle.

  Finally he pressed his lips to hers, and it was everything she’d hoped for, every promise fulfilled. Head spinning and lungs exploding, she clung to him, grabbing the front of his shirt into both of her fists and holding on for everything she was worth.

  She didn’t have to wonder if she’d ever known a moment like this before.

  No one had ever had such a perfect kiss, all affection, joy and longing.

  Had anything ever been so sweet? Had her heart ever ached so acutely? Joy and pain warred within her. She couldn’t stay in his arms forever, and it tore at the deepest part of her. The desire to be safe and to know the truth were nothing next to her longing to stay with him. That she was expendable, that he would soon let her go, stole what little air she had left, and she tore away from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Her stomach clenched. “This wasn’t the time or place for that. But I’m not sorry I kissed you. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

  Me, too.

  She couldn’t confess it or risk seeing the pity in his eyes, so she stared at her hands folded in her lap and nodded. “Maybe we should go. I’m supposed to see the doctor today, and maybe he’ll look at your hand.”

  “All right.” Zach reached out to take her hand, but she pushed herself to her feet without letting him touch her again. That was a recipe for pain. Keeping her distance was her only hope now.

  That and finding the key to unlock her memory so she could go home.

  The longer she stayed, the more danger she was in. It wasn’t just her life on the line. Her heart hung in the balance, too.

  *

  Zach folded his arms across his chest as Dr. Willow, who was tall and lanky like his name suggested, flashed a light into Julie’s eyes. She perched on the edge of an E.R. bed, squinting into the light.

  Willow mumbled something before taking her hand and running his fingers over the bones on the back and gently rotating it. “How’s that feel?”

  “Fine. It’s a little tender when I press too hard against it like this.” She bent it back.

  “That’s normal. Nothing to worry about. Just give it as much rest as you can.”

  She nodded, and he moved back up to the scratch on her forehead, the one that had originally been a bump that rivaled Mount Rushmore, the injury that had caused the most issues.

  “This is healing just fine.” He ran a thumb over the red mark. “Is it sensitive to the touch?”

  “No. It feels good.”

  “Good.” He jotted something into his electronic chart. “Where’d you get the other bruise?”

  Zach caught Julie’s gaze as it swung to him. What would she say? He shrugged. It was entirely up to her to decide how much she wanted to reveal.

  “I got in a fight.”

  With just a raised eyebrow, the doctor asked his unspoken question, and Julie continued, “Someone is still after me. But don’t worry. I won this battle.”

  Zach couldn’t help the little smile that worked its way across his mouth. She was something else. It was one of the things that he liked best about her. Smart and snappy.

  And a great kisser.

  Heat washed over him, and he pressed his lips together at the memory of holding her in his arms. She’d fit so perfectly, clinging to his comfort. Of course, he’d needed to wrap his arms around her as much as she’d needed it.

  “Are you having headaches?” Willow frowned.

  “Only when people slam me into walls.” She was so deadpan that when she looked in Zach’s direction again, the air between them sizzled with unrecognized laughter.

  The good doctor didn’t look like he fully believed her, but he didn’t harp on the subject. Wrapping his stethoscope back around his neck, he put his hands on his hips. “How’s your memory?”

  “I remembered someone that I met before the attack.” Her voice swung up on the last word, as though she was casting for a compliment. “And I know the words to a hymn that we sang in church.”

  “Good for you. Do you remember when you first sang the song or met your friend?”

  The pink in her cheeks drained away as she shook her head.

  Willow pulled up a rolling stool so that he no longer towered above his patient. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. His graying eyebrows closed the distance above his nose until they formed only one line. “I’m not going to lead you on, Julie. I’m worried that your memory hasn’t returned.”

  “But it’s coming back. I recognized Mickey’s Diner.”

  “And do you know when you were last there?” The doctor’s tone wasn’t unkind, but the true answer to his question made Zach’s head throb. This wasn’t good news.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle, the bruise at her elbow clearly visible since she’d taken off her hoodie.

  Dr. Willow eyed it, but didn’t specifically ask about it. “The mind is a strange science. Often the things that we know about it aren’t really as certain as we’d like them to be. From a physical standpoint your brain is fine. The swelling was completely gone before you were released, and the rest of your injuries are healing just like I’d expect for a healthy woman of your age.

  “But sometimes the mind works in ways we don’t understand, trying to protect itself. Your brain may be doing that right now, trying to keep from remembering a painful part of your past.” He rested his hands on his knees. “It’s good that you remembered the words to a hymn. That means the memories aren’t gone. They’re just being protected right now. The only thing we can do is keep waiting, keep looking for things that might release what’s being protected. Sometimes worrying about it only adds pressure. Try to relax, and see if that helps.” Dr. Willow gave Zach a hard glare. “Try harder to keep her safe. She doesn’t need more bumps.”

  “I’m working on it,” Zach said.

  Julie slid off the bed. “Thank you.” She inched closer to Zach, and he stood to slip a hand behind her back. When his fingers brushed the soft cotton of her shirt, she flinched, and he dropped his hand. Was she thinking about how his arms had circled her when they kissed? He sure was.

  “What happened to your hand, Detective Jones?”

  Zach held up the gauze-wrapped injury. “I cut myself on a piece of glass.”

  “Want me to take a look at it?”

  “Yes,” Julie said at the same moment that he declined the offer.

  She glared at him with raised eyebrows.

  “Fine. But it feels all right.” He held it out, and Wi
llow unwrapped the gauze. It stung as he peeled off the butterfly bandage, revealing the open wound. The edges of the gash were pink and slightly wrinkled from the moisture of the ointment.

  The doctor looked at it under the light, a slow grin falling into place. “Good work. It looks great. Did you do this yourself?”

  “Julie cleaned it up. She said I didn’t need stitches.”

  With an approving glance, Willow said, “Very nice. Ever think about being a nurse?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They all chuckled as the doctor put a new bandage in place and sent them on their way with an admonition to relax and try to stay out of harm’s way.

  Easy for him to say.

  No one was trying to kill him for the memories that were so slow to return.

  As they walked toward the exit, two nurses stepped in front of them. Julie slammed to a halt, and Zach was three steps in front of her before he realized she wasn’t by his side. Spinning, he stared at her. “What’s going on?”

  “I think I have that shirt.”

  “What shirt?”

  She pointed toward the blonde walking ahead of them. Her scrub top was bright blue and covered in fluffy white sheep that jumped over little fences and ate tufts of green grass.

  “What do you mean?”

  Julie walked to his side, her gaze never wavering from the woman, who had made it to the end of the hall. “I think I really was a nurse.”

  He stared at his hand that she had cared for so quickly and carefully. He should have known. She was perfect for it. So gentle yet strong. Kind but tough.

  Nothing could change the things that were written on the deepest part of her heart. Her compassion. Her sweetness. Her courage. These were the things that probably made her a fantastic nurse. They were also the qualities that made his heart rate double when she entered a room.

  He risked a kiss to her cheek, her skin smooth. “I’m not surprised. I’m sure you’re a great nurse.”

  Beaming up at him, she tucked her hand into his and followed him toward the exit.

  “I’m going to send your picture to human resources departments at every hospital in the Twin Cities to see if anyone can identify you. All right?” She nodded, but the grim set of her mouth made him wonder if she was thinking the same thing he was. If she was from somewhere nearby, someone would have come forward with her name by now after all the online and print coverage by the newspaper.

  In the parking lot he opened her door, waited for her to get settled and closed it behind her. Walking around the front of the car, he scanned the lot for any uninvited guests. Whoever was after her had known she was home alone the night before. He’d followed her to the mall and waited for an opportunity to strike. He was being more brazen, more bold. Why? What propelled him to be so brash? Did he know that every day she was getting closer to uncovering a memory that could identify her attacker and maybe the person who had taken the baby?

  The parking lot was quiet for a Friday afternoon, only a handful of other cars coming and going. Still he memorized a few models just to keep his eyes open for them.

  Sliding behind the wheel, Zach turned on the car. “Ready to go home?”

  “Yes.” She had pulled her knees up to her chin, hugging her legs against her chest. She let her head fall back against the seat, her eyes drooping closed.

  Truthfully he was ready for a nap, too. And he hadn’t even been thumped on by the doctor. How she was still alert was something of a wonder.

  As he put the car in gear, his phone rang. Putting the gear back into Park, he pulled the cell out of his pocket. The number on the screen was unfamiliar but not blocked. Maybe Phil had had a change of heart after an afternoon in the city jail.

  “This is Zach.”

  “Detective Jones?” The voice on the other end was high-pitched and familiar, but he didn’t immediately recognize it.

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “Wendy Caruthers. From McNulty’s Pub.”

  He shot a glance at Julie, whose eyes were still closed. Her shoulders rose and fell in an even rhythm. “Hi, Wendy. What can I do for you?”

  “Melinda, the hostess, she’s back and just came in to pick up her check. I told her you were looking for her, and she said she could stick around for half an hour. You can swing by before the dinner crowd comes in, if you want.”

  Perfect. He desperately needed to interview Melinda, possibly one of the last people to see Julie before the attack. He couldn’t get all the way home to drop Julie off and make it downtown in time to meet Melinda before she left. But taking Julie with him to the pub wasn’t an option. She needed rest and a safe place to sleep.

  Hadn’t the doctor said that relaxation could be just what her mind needed to unlock all of her secrets? But taking her to McNulty’s could be a familiar place that had the potential to do the same.

  He stared at the ceiling, praying for a divine word of wisdom.

  Nothing happened.

  “Are you still there?” Wendy sounded impatient, the click of her pen against a table or her hostess stand accentuating her words.

  “I’m here. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Please don’t let Melinda leave.”

  He pocketed the phone and shifted the car into Drive.

  Without opening her eyes, Julie asked, “What was that about?”

  “Someone who might have seen you the night of the attack.”

  She sat up straight, turning toward him. Her eyes bore into the side of his head as he maneuvered them toward the cross street. “Who?”

  “I told you about that pub, McNulty’s.” She nodded. “The hostess who was working that night is back in the country and can meet me.”

  “Then let’s go.” With her brown eyes bright and her face alight with hope, she leaned toward him.

  “Maybe I should drop you off at home first.”

  “So what can happen? So he can find me alone again? So I can sit like a bump on a log and be completely useless? Take me with you.”

  The bags beneath her eyes had grown, and her movements were stilted. Exhaustion was just around the corner, but she fought it with her words, her stuttering breaths seeming to boost her resolve.

  “You really need to rest.”

  “I know. And I’ll rest after I remember. Or after someone remembers me.”

  He couldn’t argue with her sentiment, so he whipped the car toward downtown.

  FOURTEEN

  Julie stepped through the entrance to McNulty’s as Zach held the door open for her, his eyes following her movements so closely that she took careful steps. She couldn’t have him thinking she was too tired or too weak to follow through on this lead. It was their first real hope for details about that night since the video of her carrying baby Kay.

  A pretty woman with a long black braid hanging over her shoulder glanced up as they entered. “Well, well, Detective Jones. You made it.”

  “Hi, Wendy.” He motioned to his right. “This is Julie.”

  Wendy stepped forward and reached for Julie’s hand. “I’ve seen your picture in the paper, but you look a whole lot better than you did with that black eye.”

  Straightforward and plainspoken. Julie liked her immediately. “Very nice to meet you.”

  “You said Melinda was here.” Zach’s head swung around to get a view of the entire room, which was empty save for a dozen tables, their chairs and a long wooden bar lined with matching stools.

  Wendy hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “She’s in the back. I’ll go get her.”

  The weight of a gaze on her back swept over her, and Julie spun to look through the wall of small windowpanes. Several people walked the downtown sidewalks, and a nondescript black car rolled past, but other than that, it was deserted. No one was watching her.

  She just couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone or that someone was tracing her every movement. Perhaps it was a residual effect of being hunted and chased across the city.

  “It’s you!” Th
e announcement carried across the room as a robust young woman sashayed from the kitchen door. Her broad shoulders and matching hips swayed as she drew closer to them. Her smile spoke a familiarity that Julie couldn’t quite place, but it set hope loose in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, this woman could help them.

  “Do you know me?”

  “Of course.” Hands plopped at her waist, Melinda flipped her blond hair over her shoulder with a twitch of her neck. “Don’t you remember? You came in here the other night?” She snapped her fingers three times, looking toward the ceiling. “I think it was Friday night. Yeah. Definitely the Friday right before my wedding.”

  Julie caught Zach’s gaze, and they shared a smile. “I’m afraid I don’t remember being here. I had an…accident, and I’m just trying to piece together what happened that night.”

  “Wow.” Melinda’s jaw dropped, revealing a wad of chewing gum in her cheek. “You mean, I saw you that same night.”

  “I guess so.” Julie folded her hands in front of her.

  Zach stepped forward, revealing his badge and finally introducing himself. “I’m Detective Jones. I’m looking into Julie’s accident. Can we ask you a few questions?”

  “Sure, sure.” She led the way toward a table and plopped down across from them. “What do ya wanna know?”

  “Well, everything.” Julie leaned her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hand. “Do you remember when I came in? Was I alone?”

  “’Course not. You came in because of the baby. Remember?” Julie shook her head, and Melinda giggled. “Right. I forgot.” She drummed her fingers on the table, studying the wood grain for a long second. “I guess it was about nine or nine-fifteen. Our dinner customers were just clearing out and Bob had been at the piano for like half an hour. He usually gets here at eight, but I remember that he was late and some of the regulars were mad that he wasn’t here.

  “Anyway, we were pretty busy. It was really cold that night, and everyone coming in was ordering hot drinks just to warm themselves up. I even had a cup of coffee at the stand just to warm my hands when some idiot left the door open too long.”