by Mary Alford
“Whoa, Jase, hang on a minute will you.” Aaron barked the order loud enough to stop him in his tracks. “You should know I sent Travis to the hospital to speak with Sandoval already. He told her he was James McCoy from the hospital’s organ transplant unit. She appeared to recognize your name.”
That some part of Kate might still exist stuck like a knife. “If this woman truly had Kate’s memory, she’d know Travis wasn’t me. Kate knew Travis. They worked together on many missions…”Another far more disturbing thought occurred to him. “Do you think there’s a possibility she might be a spy? Maybe the whole thing about talking in her sleep was a set up. Maybe she’s playing us.”
Aaron let out an audible sigh. “I don’t see how.”
Jase’s thoughts flew into a dozen different directions. He couldn’t let himself believe that part of Kate had lived on after her death. Couldn’t give that bit of hope life. There had to be another explanation. Only someone close to Kate and him would know about his nickname. Or someone who had been well briefed. A spy looking to integrate herself into the case. See what the Agency knew about the case.
“So how do we go about getting answers out of her?”
Aaron looked him square in the eye. “We don’t. You are to avoid this woman at all costs. You’re too involved in this to think clearly. Don’t go anywhere near her. Stay out of that part of the investigation, and that’s an order. Get with Travis. He can bring you up to speed on the investigation from his end. Kate’s contact is still missing. We need to find him quickly, but Travis is working on it. I’ll handle the woman personally.”
“There’s no other explanation,” Jase said. “She’s involved in Kate’s death somehow. No one comes back from the grave, Aaron. Kate’s dead and her memories died with her. I don’t care what any case study shows. I was there when it happened. No coming back from that. Not even for Kate.”
Jase glanced at Aaron. He’d turned as white as a sheet. He certainly looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “What? Something else is bothering you, isn’t it?”
Aaron shook his head. “I don’t know.” He glanced up at Jase. “I know how hard this has been for you, but I can’t help but feel this case goes much deeper than arms dealings. That’s why I need you to promise me you’ll do as I ask. Stay away from the Sandoval woman.”
Aaron drew in a deep breath and attempted a smile. “Enough of the drama, I’m glad you’re back, buddy. But you know he’ll want to see you.”
Jase cringed at the thought of meeting with the director.
“Don’t worry, I handle it. He’ll insist on a psych evaluation though. He’ll want to make sure you’re cleared for duty.”
“Aaron…”
His friend held up a hand. “Okay. I’ll take care of that as well. Go. Meet with Travis. Get up to speed. We need you. I’m glad your back.”
Jase didn’t answer. He didn’t share Aaron’s sentiment. This was the last place he wanted to be. The only place he needed to be.
He stood and walked out of Aaron’s office without another word.
What Aaron said made sense, but he wasn’t going to follow through with it. He couldn’t. He needed to see the woman who had Kate’s heart for himself.
* * * *
“I love you, Jase. I’ve always loved you,” she whispered as he kneeled next to her. She barely felt his hand clutch hers. His ruggedly handsome face was so close. She tried to kiss him one last time, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Her throat had been slit. She was dying.
“Hang on, Kate. Please, Hang on,” There were tears in his eyes. Her heart filled with regret. She would give anything to be able to spare him the pain.
“I’m sorry. I so sorry, Jase.” His image grew dim. She was losing him.
In an instant, Hannah awoke with a start. She’d fallen asleep on the couch. She was home. Back at her tiny apartment. She’d been dreaming of him again. Of Kate. Of those final dreadful moments of her life. It was as if Kate were reaching out to her from her grave, begging her to help her find her killers.
Father, I need your help to find out what happened to her…
She shuddered. The dream was still fresh on her mind. It seemed so real. There was no way this was some trauma induced story roaming round in her head. Kate was real, and so were Hannah’s memories of her and Jase. She knew he existed. She’d remembered the phone number of the apartment they’d shared. He was real.
She made herself a cup of tea and glanced out the apartment windows. It was mid-afternoon and she didn’t know what to do with herself. She couldn’t fall asleep again. She wasn’t ready to go back to the desert and relive Kate’s death once more.
Instead, she grabbed her iPad and researched cellular memories. It amazed her that there were so many documented cases of heart transplant recipients possessing memories of their donor’s lives.
She found a website dedicated to cellular memories and clicked on it. Hannah read about several cases where the recipient could recount the names of the donor’s family members as well as where the donor had lived as a child. There was even one case where the recipient expressed having feelings for the donor’s wife. After studying dozens of cases she shut down the iPad. She couldn’t read anymore. The detailed claims from the people on the site scared the hell out of her because, in her mind, she was one of those recipients.
A knock on her door drew her attention away from her troubled thoughts.
Hannah opened the door and was surprised to find Michael standing there. She tried to smile, yet her heart wasn’t quite into it. He was the last person she wanted to have a heart to heart with, but if the solemn expression on his usually jovial face were any indication, that was exactly what he had in mind.
Things had changed dramatically between them since she woke from the coma. She was stuck somewhere between who she’d once been before this life-altering event had happened and the woman she had yet to become. Coming close to death had shone a spotlight on her life, the things she thought important, like her relationship with Michael. It made her realize being with him had simply been comfortable for both of them. They’d gotten used to each other.
Michael sensed it too. He hadn’t said as much, but each time they were together, it was awkward.
“Come in.” She opened the door to let him in. “This is a surprise. What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” As a high school football coach, this time of year with the season recently ending was one of his busiest. “Are you playing hooky?”
Michael’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Something like that.”
She closed the door and faced him. As was the case a lot lately, she didn’t know what to say to him. “I was about to make myself a sandwich. Would you like one?”
She started past him and he grabbed her arm. “Hannah, wait. We need to talk.”
More depressing words had never been spoken. She had a feeling she knew where their conversation was headed. A few months earlier, it would have been devastating. Not so much now. “I know. Why don’t we sit down?”
He followed her to the sofa. With the moment of truth facing them, they couldn’t quite meet each other’s eyes.
It was Michael who finally broke the silence. “You know I love you, and I always will, but things are different between us. You’re different.”
She glanced down at her hands and slowly nodded. “I know. This has been hard. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not the person I was before the transplant. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel even.”
When she did finally look his way, she saw him smile a little sadly. “I know. What I don’t know is where we go from here.” After another awkward moment of silence, he said, “I’ve been offered an assistant coaching job at the North Carolina University.”
This was not what she’d expected to hear. “You were? Michael, that’s great. It’s always been your dream to coach college football someday.”
He nodded and didn’t look at her. “Yes it has. The catch is, they wan
t me there next week.”
“Next week,” she repeated and it finally dawned on her what he was trying to tell her. “You’re moving. How long have you known?”
“A few days before you went to the hospital. I planned to tell you the night you collapsed. Since then.” He shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t find the right moment. You were so sick, and we were all worried about you.” He blew out a breath. “Bev’s going to kill me for doing it like this, but I’m out of time. I have to find a place to live. Settle in.” He shook his head. “It seems best this way. You understand, don’t you?” His eyes pleaded with her.
She wished she could find one ounce of regret that he was leaving, but she couldn’t. Part of her would always love Michael, but he wasn’t the future for her. “It’s okay,” she said at last. “You should go. This is your dream. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, and I’ll make sure Bev doesn’t hunt you down and kill you.” She tried to smile, but all she could feel was a marginal sadness that another part of her was slowly slipping away.
* * * *
It had been building since the moment he walked into Covert Affairs and heard about her for the first time.
On the surface, she certainly appeared innocent enough. A schoolteacher who didn’t have so much as a speeding ticket until she started asking questions about Kate’s death.
Jase decided to wait until dark. If he were caught, well, it wouldn’t be good for him. They’d take him off the case entirely, and his only chance at extracting revenge for Kate’s death would disappear. Yet he needed to know. Couldn’t stand the second-guessing, the questions any longer. He had to know if the memories she claimed to have were real, part of her illness, or was she working for the people who killed Kate.
He’d spoken to one of the CIA’s top medical professionals. A friend he trusted to keep his inquiry secret. Doctor Patterson was well versed in the transplant field. He’d personally interviewed many recipients who claimed to have their donor’s memories. Patterson believed their claims were real. This was not the news Jase had wanted to hear. While his friend and the CIA might take Hannah Sandoval’s memories seriously. Jase did not. He’d need to hear it for himself.
He spotted the Agency car, a nondescript sedan, parked down the street from the woman’s apartment, which was above her sister’s garage. He’d left his truck a couple of blocks over and covered the rest of the space on foot, carefully avoiding coming in contact with anyone.
Jase stood outside the light illuminating from an open window at her apartment above the garage and listened for any sound that might indicate she wasn’t alone. There was nothing. He glanced around. From her apartment, he couldn’t see the Agency car, which meant they wouldn’t be able to see him either.
Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure what his next move should be. While he debated, a woman opened the door and stepped out into the night, leaving him to wonder if she’d known he would come.
He was stunned into immobility, normal breathing impossible as he managed his first real look at the woman. Barely five feet five, golden-brown hair, and petite, she wasn’t anything like what he’d expected, even though he didn’t know what he’d expected. She wore a faded gray Virginia Tech T-shirt, ordinary jeans, and the evidence of her recent illness made itself known in her ghost-white pallor. She didn’t have an ounce of color in her face, which made her eyes appear luminescent.
It took her a second longer than him to recover. “Who are you?” She stopped for a second and stared at him. “Wait, I know you.”
Disbelief and guilt and something he couldn’t name pumped through his body like an adrenalin rush. He grabbed her arm and forced her back inside the apartment and against the opposite wall, kicking the door shut in the process.
“What do you want?” she said in a fear-fueled breathless whisper. “Please, don’t hurt me. Take what you want, but don’t hurt me.” There was real panic in her eyes as she pleaded for her life. As they continued to stare into each other’s eyes, something registered in hers.
“Oh my God,” she whispered as she clamped a trembling hand over her mouth.
“You recognize me?” he asked in shocked amazement.
He watched a single tear slide from the corner of her eye, and it sucked the anger out of him. She slowly nodded.
Jase let her go and moved away. “How do you recognize me?”
“You’re Jase. She loved you.” She shook her head. “Kate loved you.”
The words threatened to buckle his knees. It took everything inside of him to retain his cool. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whirled to face her once more. “You’re the one who called my apartment.” He recognized her voice. “Who told you my nickname?”
The question obviously surprised her. She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “You did … didn’t you?”
He looked at her in disbelief. “We’ve never met before.” She had to be lying. The information wasn’t in his CIA file, so how did she know about it?
Kate had loved to hear the story of how he’d gotten his nickname. His roommate at the University of Texas had given it to him after a night of drinking. Mark had thought it was hilariously funny that “Jase” was from a small town called Jasonville. The name had stuck even after they’d sobered up.
For reasons that escaped Jase, the story always reduced Kate to a fit of laughter.
This woman’s use of the name, well, it added more fuel to his anger. “How did you find the number to my apartment in D.C.? No one other than Agency personnel have that number?” His voice was unsteady as he asked those questions.
She seemed incapable of answering for a moment. She shook her head and stared at him. “I don’t know…” Her voice trailed off into a sob.
Jase didn’t buy it. He couldn’t. “Who told you I was left handed?”
She sucked in a breath and her eyes locked with his. “How do you know about that?”
“I know, okay. Why did you call my apartment? What were you hoping to find? Whatever it is, you’re wasting your time. Kate’s dead. She’s not coming back. I should know. I found her.”
She jerked her head up at those words. Those haunting eyes pinned him with guilt. “Something happened to her … something dreadful.”
For a second, her sincerity shook to him. He swallowed down the lump lodged in his throat. “What are you talking about? What do you know about her death?”
She looked as if she might collapse at any moment. Jase remembered the severity of her condition. “Are you okay?” He watched her take several deep breaths before he stormed over to her, picked her up, and sat her down on the couch then kneeled in front of her to study her expression. The last thing he needed was to be the cause of another death.
After a second, she spoke. “I’m fine.” She looked straight into his eyes and broke his heart again. “She loved you, Jase.”
Jase stumbled to his feet and away from her. What she was saying was crazy and yet he could almost see Kate in her eyes when she spoke of her. Either she was damn good at lying or she truly believed what she said.
“Please, don’t look so sad.”
He realized she’d been watching him, seeing everything, all his emotions.
Jase turned away. He needed to get a grip on his feelings. “Stop it. Stop trying to play me for a fool.” He went back and squatted in front of her, inches from her face. “You don’t know anything about me. You certainly don’t know anything about my relationship with Kate.”
“That’s not true. I…” She stopped and looked like someone trying to remember something on the tip of her tongue.
On an impulse he couldn’t begin to explain, Jase blew out a breath, picked her up in his arms, and carried her from the apartment. The foolishness of his actions hit him hard when he remembered the agents watching her house.
She finally overcame her surprise. “What do you think you’re doing? Put me down.”
“Shut up,” he growled the order at her. He shouldered through the neighbor’s g
ate and kept in the shadows until he reached his truck. Jase dumped her in the driver’s seat and slid in next to her. She scooted across the seat and reached for the door handle, but he grabbed her hand.
“I don’t think so,” he told her.
“Are you crazy?” she asked in a breathless tone.
“Probably, but this…” He waved his free hand over her. “Whatever this is ends here. Tonight. Whoever you are, whatever end game you have, I want you to see the truth once and for all. It’s time you met the real Kate Willows.” Jase let her go and put the truck in drive, bouncing her back against the seat. He wasn’t giving her time to escape.
It took her another minute to steady herself. “Where are you taking me?” Was it his imagination, or was there real fear in her tone. He hoped so. He needed her to forget all about Kate and him. He hated it just the same.
Jase didn’t answer her question. He was beating himself up about his decision to snatch her in the first place. He could almost hear Aaron yelling at him when he found out about his latest fiasco.
His only excuse was the shock of hearing about this woman combined with the jetlag. He was running on empty. He was empty. The time he’d spent away from the job at his ranch in New Zealand hadn’t helped the pain. It had confirmed his decision to leave though. This was it for him. As soon as he found Kate’s killers, he was gone.
The ghosts of the life he and Kate shared together here in D.C. were everywhere tonight, calling out to him. Reminding him of the passion, they’d once shared and all but guaranteeing he’d never move beyond loving Kate.
He turned off the highway into Arlington National Cemetery.
Now, seeing the simple marble headstone so soon after hearing Hannah tell him Kate had loved him was too much. He lost it. He’d shed a thousand tears, thought a dozen times he’d reached the end of them, and yet every little memory brought them back.
Jase had forgotten his passenger and his purpose for a moment. Kate’s name carved in stone shook him as always, along with the quiet of the place. It cried out the finality of death. There was no second chances here. No coming back from the dead.