by Lynne Ewing
CHAPTER ONE
SUNLIGHT CREPT OVER her face and she jerked awake, thinking the enemy had been shining the beam of a flashlight over her. She sat up, body tense, and searched for the danger. At first she thought it had only been a nightmare that had frightened her, but then she knew something was desperately wrong. She didn’t know where she was.
She glanced frantically around the small, one-room apartment. A refrigerator hummed in the corner, but she was confident she had never seen it before. Water dripped into a sink near the only window. Not one dirty cup, spoon, or plate sat on the spare counter, and no plants gathered the sun’s rays on the windowsill. There was nothing she could recognize as belonging to her.
A lone dresser leaned against the wall near the door. The top was bare, polished and reflecting sunshine. An oak table with two chairs sat in the middle of the floor, but there were no pictures or personal items anywhere. Everything looked stark and freshly cleaned, as if someone had tried hard to erase all traces of the people who had lived here before. Then she spied a blue backpack leaning against the door. It had to belong to her, but it didn’t look familiar. Nothing sparked any feeling of recognition.
She pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to recall what had happened the night before, but her mind was like a huge void. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten into the apartment or when she had arrived. The bed had not been turned down. She had slept on top of the thin bedspread and was still dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. The hems of her pantlegs were frayed and black with dirt, her socks worn. She glanced at her rhinestone-studded tee. It seemed like something she’d wear to a party.
A pair of knee-high slick black boots lay scattered on the floor. She swung her legs over the side of the bed to put them on, and when she did, a large rusted pipe slipped from her lap and hit the yellow linoleum floor with a loud clank. She gasped as if it had been a snake, then slowly bent over and picked it up. Her hands began to tremble. Why had she slept with a pipe? Perhaps she had felt in need of protection. The cold metal felt lethal enough to crush a skull. Her chest tightened, and she wondered how such a brutal thought could come to her.
She tried to calm herself, taking long, slow breaths, but the air in the closed room was stale and antiseptic, making her feel even more claustrophobic. She needed to leave before it was too late. She had no idea where this strange impulse came from, but the urgency she felt was strong and growing. She glanced at her wrist. She had no watch and saw no clock in the room. From the bars of sunlight slanting through the window, she was sure it was morning.
Somewhere in the building a door slammed and she jumped. Only then did she realize how terrified she felt. Yet she couldn’t understand why. She was alone. The room looked safe. But a bizarre tension shimmered around her as if someone or something threatening were present but not yet seen.
She closed her eyes, trying to bring back a memory from her past, and opened them again with a jolt of pure panic as realization struck. She didn’t know who she was. She couldn’t remember her name, her date of birth, where she lived, or who her parents were. As hard as she tried, nothing about her life before this moment came back to her. She glanced at the calendar hanging on the gray-green wall. It said November, but she didn’t know the date.
Now instinct took over. The need to run was overwhelming. She glanced at the window as if she expected to see a threatening face staring back at her.
“Always trust your instinct,” she mumbled, and stopped. The sound of her own voice startled her. It could have been that of a stranger talking to her.
She grabbed the boots, fell back on the edge of the bed and tugged them on, then stood. She had started walking toward the door when she felt something like a pebble under her right toe. She slumped onto one of the small wooden chairs, yanked off the boot, and shook out a soiled and crumpled note.
She unfolded it and read:
Dear LAPD,
It wasn’t my imagination. Two guys were trying to kill me. If you’re reading this, then they did. Now will you stop them?
Tianna Moore
A chill rushed through her and her body began to shake violently. Was she Tianna Moore? How could she be? It was like reading a name in the newspaper. It didn’t feel like it belonged to her. She unzipped the backpack propped against the door, pulled out a notepad and pen, sat back at the table, and wrote Tianna Moore.
Her handwriting matched the writing on the note. Why would anyone want her dead? She couldn’t have placed it in the toe of her boot recently. The paper looked old and stained. How long had it been there? A week? Two? Who was she running from? And if someone was trying to kill her, then why weren’t the police willing to help? She should be able to remember something as important as that. She read the note again, then pulled on the boot, stood, stuffed the note in her pocket, grabbed the backpack, and rushed out the door.
In the hallway the smells of morning coffee, bacon, and burning toast made her stomach pinch with hunger. She wondered how long it had been since she had eaten. She felt starved. She rumbled down the stairs.
Her hand was on the front doorknob when someone called after her. Tianna let out a small cry and spun around.
CHAPTER TWO
“GOOD MORNING,” THE voice called again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Tianna turned cautiously. An old woman stood in the sunlight at the top of the stairs. She started down the steps, clutching the handles of two shopping bags. The bristles from a toilet bowl brush peeked over the top of one.
“I’m Hanna,” the woman said, as if that should mean something to Tianna. She looked safe enough.
“Hi, I’m…” Tianna paused and cleared her throat. “Tianna.” The name felt alien on her tongue. She pressed her back against the metal mailboxes and stifled the need to bolt and run. Maybe she could gain some useful information from Hanna. Anything would help. She didn’t even know what city she was in.
“I haven’t seen you here before.” Hanna came sideways down the stairs as if she had pain in her hips and knees. Her movements were heavy and slow. “Did you just move in?”
Tianna didn’t know what to reply. “Yeah,” she muttered, and played with the strap on her backpack.
“Usually I meet the new tenants right away.” Hanna had a big smile. Her teeth looked plastic, and when she stopped smiling, her lips worked as if forcing her false teeth back into place. “I try to make this a happy place to live. Knowing your neighbors is one way to prevent crime.”
Tianna looked at the front door nervously. The urge to run was consuming her, and she wished now she hadn’t stopped to talk to Hanna.
“There.” Hanna grinned when she reached the landing, as if getting down the stairs were a major feat. She set down one bag and extended her hand.
After a second’s hesitation Tianna took it. The knuckles felt like cold marbles, the skin slick and thin.
“Are you all right?” Hanna asked with concern. Her breath still smelled of morning coffee, and it made Tianna’s stomach growl.
“Why?” Tianna’s voice sounded on edge.
“Your hands are wet and you look pale.” Hanna picked up her bags. “I bet it’s because you didn’t eat breakfast. You always should, you know.”
“Yeah, but we can’t always.” Tianna brushed a hand through her hair. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Who does anymore? Police sirens all night long.” Hanna started toward the door. “I’m just on my way to work. Need a ride?”
“Why would I need a ride?” Tianna asked.
“You missed your bus.” Hanna stepped outside.
“I did?” Tianna followed her onto the stoop, eager to know more. The morning sun was hot already and felt good on her face.
Hanna nodded. “I heard the bus go by a few minutes ago. I’ll drop you at La Brea High.”
“How do you know I go there?”
Hanna turned and smiled with half her face. “You don’t look like you go to one of those priva
te schools over on the west side.” She stared pointedly at the frayed jeans and soiled backpack. “All the other kids in the neighborhood take the city bus to La Brea High, so it stands to reason that you would, too.”
Tianna considered this with rising hope. “Thanks, I could use the ride.” She readjusted her backpack, feeling suddenly reassured. She’d go to school, find her friends, and get some answers. Maybe she had been slipped some designer drug at a party the night before. She didn’t know how she would know anything about designer drugs, when she couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten, but the information was there, easy to pluck from her brain. She wished other things would come back as readily.
Hanna headed toward an old gold Cadillac with huge fins and tons of dented chrome. The windows were rolled down and the cracked leather seats inside had gathered the morning dew.
“The windows haven’t worked in ages,” Hanna explained. “And it costs too much to repair them, but the old Caddy gets the job done; she’ll get us where we want to go.”
Tianna glanced at the California license plates. “You buy the car here?” she asked.
“Sure did,” Hanna answered. “Right here in L.A. in 1966.” That answered one question at least. While Hanna took a rag from her shopping bag and wiped down the car seats, Tianna surveyed the neighborhood. Old stucco apartment buildings and massive trees stood on either side of the road. Cars lined the curbs, and bicycles were chained to porch railings. Nothing looked dangerous, but she couldn’t cast off the ominous feeling that something was lurking in the bright sunlight, unseen.
“What does your mother do?” Hanna asked as she folded the rag.
The question caught Tianna by surprise, and she turned back. “She’s a dental hygienist,” she answered with the first thing that came to mind, then paused, wondering if she was.
“That sounds like something that will come in handy in our apartment building.” Hanna opened the car door.
Tianna looked at her sharply to see if she was teasing. She didn’t seem to be. “Why?”
“Not many people where we live can afford to go to a dentist.” Hanna nodded. “Get in.”
Tianna swung her backpack onto the floor under the glove compartment. It landed with a thunk, and the dashboard rattled. “Sorry,” she offered, then slid in and slammed the door.
“What do you have in that backpack, anyway?” Hanna asked.
“I don’t know—” she began, and caught herself. “Books, things.” She’d have to be more careful with the answers she gave or people were going to think there was something seriously wrong with her.
Hanna only laughed. “I know what you mean—when I clean out my purse, there’s no telling what I’ll find inside.”
Tianna lifted the backpack onto her lap and unzipped it. Maybe she would find something inside that would help her remember.
The Cadillac pulled away from the curb with a belch of black exhaust, and a faint odor of gasoline filled the interior.
First Tianna found a tube of toothpaste and gratefully squeezed a long line into her mouth, then used her finger to brush her teeth.
Hanna glanced at her, then away. “A dental hygienist, huh?” she muttered, then laughed. “Did your mother teach you that?”
Tianna shook her head. Her mouth filled with toothpaste foam.
“Funny, I haven’t seen your mother around,” Hanna continued. “I know everyone. How long have you lived in the apartment?”
Tianna was stunned. How long? She didn’t know. She wasn’t even sure that was where she lived. She leaned out the window and spit.
“Stop,” Hanna said. “It’ll come back in the car.”
Tianna jerked around. A glob of toothpaste foam landed on the backseat.
“Sorry.” Tianna leaned over and wiped at the white mess with papers she found in her backpack.
“Put your seat belt on!” Hanna bellowed. “You want me to get a ticket? It’s against the law not to have your seat belt on.”
Tianna hunkered down, making a mental note not to accept morning rides from strangers anymore.
Hanna glanced over her shoulder. “It’ll come out. Sorry I yelled.” But her voice still sounded perturbed. She concentrated on the road ahead.
That was fine with Tianna. She dug through her backpack and pulled out three pairs of panties. She looked at them strangely.
So did Hanna. “Do you normally take your underwear to school?”
Tianna felt baffled, and then her hand reached in and took out a bra, socks, T-shirt, and pj’s.
Hanna laughed. “Are you sure you didn’t grab a bag of laundry? What else do you have in there? It’s like you’re packed for a trip.”
Tianna took out three textbooks, a stack of papers, and a wallet. Her heart pounded as she opened the wallet and looked inside. She didn’t know what she had hoped to find, but it only contained three twenty-dollar bills. The significance of what was happening finally came over her. How was she going to survive? Perhaps she should go to the police again. Surely a detective could help her this time since she couldn’t even remember who she was. But another worry flooded through her. Maybe whoever wanted to kill her would be waiting for her to show up there. Somehow it didn’t feel safe.
Tianna turned over the paper she had used to clean up the toothpaste foam. It was her class schedule. “What day is it?” she asked.
Hanna glanced at her. “Wednesday. You sound as old as me. Don’t you even know the day?”
“No, the date,” Tianna asked impatiently. “What’s the date?”
“The seventh.” Hanna looked at her curiously. “Did you mess up on your homework?”
Tianna shrugged and stared at the class schedule. She had enrolled on Monday the fifth. She had only been going to the school for two days. This would be her third. Where had she lived before the fifth of November? Now her plan to find friends and have them explain what was going on wasn’t going to work. She probably had only met a few people, anyway. Tears pressed into her eyes, and she quickly brushed them away. She didn’t have time for an indulgence like crying.
“What?” Hanna asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Why should it be?” Tianna snapped, and sniffed.
“No, it’s just, you looked…” She shrugged. “Scared.”
“Scared?” That wasn’t what Tianna had expected her to say.
“Here we are.” Hanna pulled to the side of the road.
The school was huge and crowded. Kids stood on the concrete steps and more leaned against the chain-link fence while others lounged around the trees. A guy with red hair seemed to be waving at her. She wondered if she knew him.
“Well,” Hanna muttered. “It’s a sad day when schools have to look like armed camps.”
Tianna followed her gaze. Security guards stood at the front gate, checking purses and backpacks before kids stepped through a metal detector. A large sign hung near the entrance, explaining the penalty for bringing a gun to school.
“Thanks for the ride.” Tianna got out and slammed the door.
Hanna honked and pulled away. Tianna waved absently and started walking to the gate.
Guys turned and eyed her boldly, some of their eyes lingering longer than they should. Even girls looked her up and down. It seemed like more than the normal once-over. She glared back at them with unwavering eyes. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by a bunch of kids she didn’t even know, especially when she had real things to fear. She glanced down the street. The air around her felt unnaturally heavy and filled with dangerous promise. Instinct told her she needed to hide.
She stopped near the end of the line and watched the way the security guards were ransacking the backpacks and purses. She didn’t want them fumbling through her stuff and accidentally pulling out her underwear. She didn’t have time for this nonsense, anyway. She kept her head down and walked to the front of the line.
When a guard turned his back, she slipped around the metal detectors and ran across the blacktop toward the
buildings. Kids applauded her audacity. She didn’t even stop when a guard yelled after her. His footfalls followed for a moment, then fell away. Just as she had figured, he couldn’t chase after her. He had to get back and examine the long line of kids waiting to enter school. She hurried around a corner, and someone grabbed her shoulder.
“Jeez—” The word whistled out of her.
“Startled you, sorry.” It was the same guy with the long red hair. He leaned close to her as if he had known her for a long time. His deep blue eyes were piercing, and he had a scattering of freckles across his long, even nose. “You want to go hang out in the computer room?”
“No,” she answered, and made a face. She might not have her memories back, but she wasn’t going to trade sunshine for a dusky room and a glowing screen. Then she smelled coffee and looked down at his hands. He held a huge blueberry muffin and a paper cup of Starbucks coffee.
She considered. What did she have to lose? “Give me a sip,” she said.
He smiled and handed over the cup. She held out her hand as she swallowed the sweetened brew and he passed her the muffin. She took a huge bite.
“This is the best I’ve ever tasted.” She wondered if it were true. She didn’t really care. She took another sip and this time let the warm coffee linger in her mouth.
“You can have it all if you want.” He seemed to be laughing at her. “Didn’t you eat breakfast at home?”
“No time,” she muttered. “And thanks. This is heaven—sunshine, coffee, and muffin.”
“You’re so different from everyone else,” he teased.
“How so?” she asked, and took another eager bite.
“Other girls are so worried about the way they look.”
“What?” She sprayed out part of the muffin and coffee. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”
“Nothing,” he answered, but there was amusement in his eyes. “You look great.”
She handed back the muffin and the coffee, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Then why did you say I don’t worry about the way I look?”