August Unknown

by Pamela Fryer

  “What happened?”

  “She was in the road; all the lights were out. I tried to swerve around her but the roads were slick. God, it all happened so fast...I knew I shouldn’t move her but my phone was dead and I didn’t know what else to do—”

  “Geoffrey.” Dr. Carlson placed a hand on his arm. “You did the right thing.” He and the orderlies crowded in the BMW’s rear door to examine his unconscious passenger. They lifted the woman onto the stretcher and hurried her into the emergency room.

  As if the storm realized it had lost its grip on its mysterious victim, the rain turned to a drizzle and a sudden lull in the wind turned the night eerily still.

  Jocelyn waited in the hospital entry’s glass foyer while Geoffrey parked the car. She watched him run across the parking lot, her expression solemn. Though a preemie by two touch-and-go months, she had always been a fearless little girl, smarter and stronger than most kids her age. But tonight, she looked small and sick like she had when she was an infant. Geoffrey hoisted her onto his hip and took her to the registration desk.

  “She was hit in the face when the airbag went off. Can someone take a look at her nose?”

  The nurse’s brows drew together. “Toddlers aren’t supposed to ride in the front seat. They can be seriously hurt or even killed when an airbag deploys.”

  “I’m not a toddler,” Jocelyn shrieked. “I’m almost eight.”

  Geoffrey’s guilt deepened. He silently berated himself for even taking her with him on a night like this.

  With her lips pinched together in a tight line, the nurse stood and rounded her desk. “Come on, sweetie, let’s put you in examination four.”

  “No.” Her lower lip jutted. “I’m okay, Uncle G. I just want the lady to be all right.”

  “No arguments. Your mother will never forgive me if I don’t get you checked out.”

  The nurse held out her hand. “Don’t-cha want a lollipop?”

  “I’m too old for lollipops,” Jocelyn mumbled. She scrunched her face into an exaggerated pout, but allowed herself to be led away.

  Geoffrey lingered in the wide entrance to the ER. After what seemed like hours, Dr. Carlson emerged from the first bed. Geoffrey caught a glimpse of pale white skin before he pulled the curtain back again.

  “How is she?” He fell into step with the doctor.

  “Hard to tell. Have you called your brother-in-law?”

  Geoffrey’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Good God, you don’t think she’s going to die, do you?”

  “No-no-no. Her vitals are strong, but her arm is broken and she’s got a nasty bump on the head. You never can tell with head injuries like this. But regardless of the severity, all accidents need to be reported to the sheriff. You know that.”

  Geoffrey let out his breath and nodded. “Of course.”

  Dr. Carlson stopped at the registration desk. “Any idea who she is?”

  “I’ve never seen her before. Thank God she was wearing white, or I wouldn’t have seen her at all.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus. I was driving so slowly.”

  Dr. Carlson placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was an accident. The lights are out all over town.”

  As if to mock him, the main lights buzzed and the hospital brightened as the power came back on.

  Geoffrey shook his head. “I couldn’t bear knowing I killed another human being—”

  “You haven’t killed anybody. I’ve ordered a CAT scan to be sure, but other than the broken arm, it looks like those are her only injuries. That, and exposure to the elements. She’s hypothermic. We’ve got her on heat coils right now. Where did you say this happened?”

  “Outside town on the coastal highway, near the old fisheries.”

  Hypothermia? How long had she been outside in the storm? No wonder her skin felt like ice. Had she started walking toward town when the power went out?

  Jocelyn burst from the examination room and ran down the hall. Geoffrey picked her up and settled her on his hip.

  “All fixed?” He forced a smile while inside, the contents of his stomach felt like month-old milk.

  She nodded, happily sucking on a lollipop. She pulled it out of her mouth and stuck out a green tongue.

  “Lovely. Come on, let’s go call Uncle Mike.”

  “And Gran Millie, too?”

  He nodded, feeling the weight of this horrible night settling over his bones. “And Gran Millie, too.”

  * * *

  Geoffrey glanced at the SUV’s dashboard clock. Eight fifteen a.m. He was probably wasting his time. Visiting hours weren’t until ten, and he wasn’t even a relative.

  After finally arriving home at midnight last night, he’d tossed and turned until he got up around four a.m. and tried to do some work. He couldn’t get the accident, or the poor woman, out of his mind.

  Over and over, he’d rehashed the scenario until he was convinced he could have avoided it a hundred different ways if he’d just reacted a little faster. If he’d been paying attention a little harder. If he’d had both hands on the wheel. If he’d been driving a little slower.

  He’d nearly killed a person. She might even have died since they left the hospital last night. Dr. Carlson hadn’t yet established how serious her head injury was.

  A dramatic sigh emanated from the back seat of his father’s SUV. “Why do I hafta ride back here?” Jocelyn demanded.

  “I told you,” Geoffrey answered without taking his eyes from the road. “It isn’t safe for you to ride in the front seat if there’s a passenger-side airbag.”

  She’d been dressed and watching cartoons in the living room when he’d tried to sneak past at eight. There had been no escaping her then, and Geoffrey never could say no to Jocelyn.

  “I hope she’ll let me sign her cast.”

  More reminders of the damage he’d done. Jocelyn had no idea the emotional turmoil he was going through.

  “You can ask once, but don’t pester. Okay?”

  “I don’t pester!”

  “That’s right, what was I thinking?” he teased. The effort took everything out of him, and sounded phony.

  “Uncle G!” Jocelyn’s giggle fluttered from the back seat like flower petals on the wind. God bless that little angel.

  Though occasionally a fluffy white cloud with a dark center passed in front of the rising sun, the bright morning held little evidence of the viciousness that had passed through last night. Broken tree limbs lay in the rain-soaked streets, but otherwise, Newport had fared well.

  He parked the car in the hospital’s main lot and took Jocelyn’s hand. He slowed his pace to match hers as she stared morbidly at the double glass doors of the main entrance.

  “I hate hospitals,” Jocelyn said softly. She had been unusually quiet all morning. Maybe she was more upset about the accident than he’d realized.

  “Well, you were in them a lot when you were a baby.”

  “They stink.”

  Thankfully the attending nurse was not the same woman who last night had looked at him like he was the worst adult in history to let a child sit in the front seat of a car with airbags.

  “We’re here to see the young woman brought in last night.” He swallowed past a sore lump of guilt. “The car accident victim.”

  “I’m sorry, visiting hours are ten until seven. Are you a family member?”

  Dr. Carlson emerged from the office area. His face was etched with fatigue. “It’s all right, Helen. I’ll take them in.”

  Geoffrey picked up Jocelyn and followed him down the hall. “Tough night?”

  “There were four separate car accidents and Roberta Norton slipped on her front stoop and shattered her elbow. Two broken arms in one night. I thought I moved to a small town to avoid all this.”

  “The first storm of winter always sends people slipping and sliding all over the place.” As soon as he’d said it, Geoffrey’s chest tightened. Christina’s accident had happened just as the first rain of the season sprinkled over Newport in ear
ly October of last year.

  Dr. Carlson hoisted Jocelyn onto his hip. “Hiya, Pumpkin. How’s that nose?”

  “Fat,” she said with a frown. “I look ugly.”

  “The swelling will go away soon.” He chuckled. “And you could never look ugly.” He stopped at the elevator banks and hit the call button. “We moved your Jane Doe upstairs last night.”

  “How is she?” Geoffrey asked, even though he was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “We set the arm and stitched up her head. She came to for a while, but she’s confused.”

  “So she’s not in a coma,” Geoffrey said over a sigh of relief.

  “No, nothing quite so serious. There was nothing in the CT to cause concern.”

  Dr. Carlson set Jocelyn down. They stepped out of the elevator and he gestured to the first room with his clipboard. “She’s right in there, first bed.” He set off in the other direction. “Come and see me before you leave so I can take a closer look at that pretty little nose.”

  Nervous tension coiled in his belly as Geoffrey looked at the open doorway. If they’d let her sleep, she couldn’t be hurt too badly, could she? He didn’t think people were allowed to sleep if they had a serious head injury.

  Jocelyn took his hand and led him inside. The woman shared the room with two other patients, both elderly women who appeared to be sleeping. He sat in the guest chair and pulled Jocelyn into his lap. She leaned her head back on his chest and watched the woman with him.

  Impossibly long eyelashes made crescents across her cheekbones as she dozed with lips slightly parted. He found it strange he’d noticed those lashes last night through all the chaos. Afterward, he thought he might have imagined them. Now, in the light of day, he saw they were more amazing than he’d first thought.

  He’d suspected her hair was light, but last night when it had been soaking wet, he couldn’t really tell. He’d had other things on his mind, like mind-altering fear. He never imagined it was such a magnificent, shimmering blond. It sprawled across the pillow beneath her head, long enough to reach her elbows.

  “She’s pretty,” Jocelyn whispered.

  She’s more than pretty, Geoffrey thought. Though frighteningly pale, her skin was clear and smooth. She looked a little green against the white bandage at her forehead, but when healthy and smiling, this woman was stunning—he would bet money on it. She appeared to be of Nordic descent, with high cheekbones and a narrow nose.

  Her left arm rested above the sheets. A fiberglass cast covered the bend in her elbow and reached to the knuckles on her hand. Slender, delicate fingers curled around its edge. He remembered how she’d cried out when he’d moved her.

  Geoffrey scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d done everything wrong last night.

  She breathed a soft sigh and her lids fluttered, and then opened. Brilliant blue eyes that glittered like aquamarine gemstones locked with his, making Geoffrey’s blood race. He held his breath, no idea what in the world he would say to her.

  * * *

  A thin whisper brought her from the edge of a dream. Opaque light filtered through her closed lids. It was day, she realized as she came fully awake.

  Antiseptic smells stung her nostrils. This is a hospital. In the back of her mind, she knew she was hurt. Her entire body was weak, sore. Battered.

  Bass drums pounded in her head. She opened her eyes and the room came into view, fuzzy at first, then growing clearer like steam clearing from a window.

  A man she didn’t recognize sat in the chair beside her bed, an adorable little girl with curly blond hair in his lap.

  She had never seen either of them before.

  Confusion barreled over her, only to be replaced instantly by fear. Dread. Worry. Confusion again. An underlying terror something horrible had happened.

  The little girl sat upright and her face brightened. The man urged her off his lap. He had the same hair, only thicker and with darker undertones.

  “Go get Dr. Carlson,” he told her.

  The little girl scampered off. Once in the hallway, she shrieked, “Dr. Carlson!” and the man in the chair winced.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  He stood and stepped closer, bringing along a crushing fear. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Hi.” He smiled, but his eyes held worry.

  She swallowed, tried to speak. Her throat was dry and sore. She glanced up, looking for a call button. Something to bring help—safety. Her pulse raced. She was in danger. But from what?

  More importantly, from whom?

  Her confusion grew thicker, along with the solid pain throbbing in her head.

  The little girl returned, tugging the hand of a man in a white coat.

  “Well, good morning. How’s my favorite patient today?”

  Goodness, did she know this man? He smiled kindly, but it did little to appease her fear.

  “What happened?”

  “You were hit by a car last night, but you’re going to be just fine.”

  She glanced to the other man. He smiled sheepishly. “I’m the guy who hit you.”

  “Where am I?”

  “This is Pacific Communities Hospital in Newport, Oregon,” the doctor told her.

  She tried to move. A spike of pain went off like a siren, racing down her arm and ending in the tips of all five fingers. She sucked in a breath as nausea rolled in her stomach. “Ouch!”

  A new level of fear rushed in with dizzying force. Her left arm was in a cast. She held her breath and pinched her eyes shut, willing the pain away.

  “Here, have some water.” The doctor poured from a carafe into a paper cup and brought it to her lips. Refreshing coolness slid down her throat, and slowly the blaring pain faded.

  “How badly am I hurt?” She dreaded the answer. Strangely, her fear was worse than the pain.

  “You have a broken radius, right here, and a hairline fracture of the olecranon. That’s here.” He pointed to his own arm to demonstrate the locations. “Nothing required pinning, thank goodness, and both should heal better than new. There was a deep laceration at your hairline, but I did a marvelous job stitching you up, if I do say so myself.”

  A nurse stepped through the doorway. “Dr. Carlson, you’re needed in recovery two.”

  “I’ll be right along,” he told her. He moved closer and gave her a pitying smile that sent her worry climbing. “Do you remember anything from last night? Can you tell us what you were doing out on the highway during the storm?”

  The storm...the storm... She clawed through the darkness filling her mind, but nothing would come.

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t try too hard. This is normal for head injury patients.” He patted her knee. “But I do need to get you checked and listed. Nurse Barnes will help you fill out the paperwork.”

  All at once, the uncertain fear she’d been feeling was replaced by terror a thousand times brighter.

  Everyone stared back at her, suddenly quiet.

  “Don’t worry,” the younger man said, stepping forward. “I intend to pay for all your hospital costs, any rehabilitation you need, and fully compensate your for your pain and suffering. This whole thing was my fault, and I’m prepared to make amends.”

  He didn’t understand. None of them did.

  The nurse took the clipboard from Dr. Carlson. “Let’s start with your name, and date of birth.”

  She choked on a hot lump of misery. The room fell into silence again. She stared from one to the next. Only the nurse seemed to have realized something was terribly wrong. She leaned forward, the concern evident in her face. “Are you from Newport?”

  Hot tears stung her eyes as the frightening realization hit. “I don’t know where I’m from. I don’t know who I am!”

  Chapter Three

  Geoffrey knew he was staring, but he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. Amnesia? It was unbelievable, the thing daytime soap operas were made of.

  His heart wrenched as the woman burst into sobs. She bit
back a cry of pain as she jostled her broken arm, and then settled one hand over her eyes as she cried.

  “Now, now,” Dr. Carlson said, patting her knee. “Don’t worry. As I said, it’s normal to be confused after a head injury. It’s understandable that you wouldn’t remember the events immediately after a head injury, and sometimes what happened before is foggy, too.”

  How much worse could this get? Geoffrey believed he’d only caused physical injuries that would eventually heal, but he never imagined he’d crippled her mentally and emotionally, too.

  If it was the last thing he did, he would make this right. He only wished he knew how.

  Nurse Barnes pulled a handful of tissues from a box on the bedside table and helped the woman blow her nose.

  “I know this is frightening for you,” Dr. Carlson said. “Let me assure you, you’re in one of the best medical facilities Oregon has to offer, and we’ll do everything in our power to get you reunited with your family.”

  Dr. Carlson’s words crushed the rising protectiveness Geoffrey had just experienced. Did she have a husband who would pulverize him when he learned what had happened?

  He glanced at the fingers curled around the edge of her cast. Did he imagine it, or was that a tan line circling her wedding ring finger?

  Again, unbidden and unwelcome, gruesome emotions came rushing in. After Christina’s death, he’d wanted to destroy whatever person or thing got in front of him.

  The woman’s sobs frightened Jocelyn. His niece’s eyes were wide and shiny with tears.

  “First of all, let’s get you something for the pain that will help you relax.” Dr. Carlson tried to sound upbeat. “You heard what Geoffrey said—he’s picking up your tab, so you might as well indulge in the best.”

  The woman glanced from Dr. Carlson to him with wariness all over her face. She didn’t know him from Adam.

  While the doctor listed off a regimen for the woman, Geoffrey bent down and reached for Jocelyn. “Maybe we better get you home.”

  “No!” Jocelyn grasped both hands around the plastic rail at the side of the bed. “I wanna stay. I was in the car, too, you know. It was my fault just as much as yours.”