Desperate Strangers

by Carla Cassidy

  She’d been told she’d been in a car accident. The nurse had explained to her that her car had hit a tree. But those facts weren’t what scared her the most.

  Why couldn’t she remember the accident? More importantly, why was she missing ten months of memories? And since when did she have a fiancé?

  Surely when she saw the man she was in love with, her memories would come tumbling back. Maybe, when her head quit pounding so fiercely, she’d remember everything.

  She attempted to sit up as the doctor, a uniformed police officer and a tall stranger came into the room. “Julie, thank God you’re all right.” The very hot man clad in a pair of jeans and a black hoodie that clung to a pair of broad shoulders rushed to her side and picked up her hand.

  This man, with his forest-green eyes and handsome, chiseled features was her fiancé? How had she gotten so lucky? And why, oh, why, didn’t she remember anything about him?

  “It’s Nick, honey,” he said. “You don’t remember me?” Her anxiety must have shone on her face. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be just fine.” He released her hand and she immediately felt bereft.

  “Ms. Peterson, I’m Officer Brown. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “No, I don’t mind, but I doubt I’ll be able to answer them,” she said. She wished Nick would take her hand again. Even though she couldn’t remember him, his hand around hers had brought her a small bit of comfort.

  And she needed to be comforted at this moment. As the officer asked her questions about the accident, she tried as hard as she could to remember even the smallest detail about what had happened. But there was nothing.

  “The last thing I remember is going to the Italian Gardens for my birthday. My parents were there, along with my brothers and my sister. But since my birthday is in two months from now, I’m missing almost a full year of memories.”

  A hollow wind blew through her as she shifted her gaze from the police officer to the doctor. “Is this kind of thing normal?” she asked, although she knew it wasn’t.

  “Sometimes it occurs that after a traumatic event like a car accident, the patient has no memories of that particular event,” Dr. Carlson replied. “It’s the way the brain protects you from emotional pain and trauma. I haven’t dealt with a patient who has the kind of amnesia we’re talking about here. My advice would be to go home and surround yourself with familiar things and people. Don’t stress yourself and hopefully those memories will return quickly.”

  Hopefully? The pounding in her head intensified. She glanced back at Nick. How could she have no memories of dating, of falling in love with him? What else had happened in the ten months she’d forgotten?

  “I hope your recovery happens quickly,” Officer Brown said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

  “If your memories don’t come back on their own within the next six to eight weeks or so, then I’ll refer you to a neurologist who might be able to help,” Dr. Carlson said when Officer Brown had left the room. “I recommend no driving for the next week to ten days, and you take it easy. In the meantime, you’re our guest for the rest of the night.”

  Once again she looked at Nick. “Will you stay here with me?”

  “We can get you a pillow and a blanket,” Dr. Carlson said to Nick.

  “Of course I’ll stay,” Nick replied after a moment of hesitation.

  “I’ll send in a nurse,” Dr. Carlson replied, and then he was gone, leaving her alone with a man, a virtual stranger, who she apparently loved but didn’t remember.

  “I hope you don’t mind staying. I feel so alone right now,” she said. It was such an inadequate statement. She was overwhelmed and terrified by her brain’s malfunction. How had this happened? Why had it happened? She hadn’t sustained any serious injuries that might explain it.

  He sat on the beige recliner next to her bed. “You aren’t alone.”

  “Aren’t you warm in that sweatshirt?” It seemed an odd choice of clothing for a July night. She only knew it was July because the doctor had told her.

  “Yes, I am.” He got up from the chair. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

  This was so awkward. He knew everything about her...about them, and she knew nothing. Her fiancé. Had a wedding date already been chosen? What did he do for a living? Did they live together? Just thinking about what she didn’t know hurt her head.

  Nick stepped out of the bathroom, his sweatshirt a wad in his hands. The man had been a hunk in the hoodie. He was even more so in a white T-shirt stretched tight across his shoulders and chest.

  He placed the black sweatshirt on another chair and then once again sat in the recliner. “Are you sure you can’t remember anything about me?”

  “Nothing. I’m so sorry, Nick. If we’re engaged, then I’m sure I love you madly, but you’re going to have to fill in a lot of blanks for me.”

  “I’ll do the best I can.”

  “Thank God, you weren’t hurt in the accident. My car...?”

  “It was towed to Jerry’s Ford. Tomorrow you’ll need to call your insurance company to get things squared away.”

  “Was I still driving a blue Ford Focus?” What might have changed in the past year? Did she still live in the same house? Oh, God, had anyone she loved died?

  He nodded. “That’s right.”

  “I’m assuming I still work for my family’s pawn shop, but what do you do?” It was far easier to focus on him than anything else at the moment. She couldn’t think about anything else in her life right now. It was all so overwhelming.

  “I’m a physical education teacher and football coach at JL Cook High School.”

  “That explains it,” she murmured more to herself than to him. Broad shoulders, lean hips and a stomach that didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat...the man appeared to have a great physique.

  “Explains what?”

  Heat warmed her cheeks. “Uh... You seem to be in good health.” Good grief, he was probably wondering now if she not only suffered from amnesia, but also if the accident had really addled her brain.

  A nurse came into the room. “Here we are,” she said with a bright smile. “One pillow and a blanket.” She handed the items to Nick and then turned toward Julie. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “My memories,” Julie replied with a rueful smile. “Actually, I’m fine.”

  “You just ring your bell if you need anything at all.”

  “Thank you,” Julie replied. “Tell me how we met,” she asked Nick when the nurse had left the room. “Was it love at first sight?”

  He changed position in the chair. “We met at the little coffee shop up the street from the pawn shop.” His gaze didn’t quite meet hers.

  “The Coffee Bean,” she said.

  “That’s right. I saw you and asked for your number and I was shocked and happy when you gave it to me. And that was the beginning.”

  “Does my family like you? I mean... I know how my dad and my brothers can be.” Her older brothers had never liked anyone she’d dated. Why could she remember that and yet have no memories of her fiancé?

  “I haven’t met any of your family and we haven’t told them about us. Uh... You wanted to keep it a secret until I put a ring on your finger.”

  “You haven’t done that?” She looked down at her hand to confirm there was no engagement ring.

  “Not yet.” His gaze finally met hers. “We were shopping for a ring.”

  “Do we live together?”

  “No. You didn’t want to live together before the wedding. You know, you should probably try to get some rest. It’s late and, needless to say, you’ve been through quite a trauma.” He smiled for the first time and a wave of heat swept through her. He had a gorgeous smile.

  “Yes, of course.” She closed her eyes but
sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. She still had so many questions.

  The sound of the recliner chair going to a prone position let her know he was prepared to sleep. He’d probably been terrified when she’d been unconscious in the car.

  She opened her eyes and gazed over to him. He’d unfolded the blanket and put the pillow behind his head. His eyes were closed but she knew he wasn’t asleep.

  “Nick?”

  His eyes opened and he gazed at her. Oh, she could fall into those inviting green depths.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell me about the accident. What exactly happened?” She needed to know at least this much before she could fall asleep.

  He released a deep sigh. “We were at your place and we had a fight.”

  She raised the head of her bed. “A fight about what?”

  “Something stupid. Something not worth fighting about,” he replied. “You like your house cool...cold to me. I got irritated that I needed to wear a sweatshirt in July just to be comfortable at your place. You got angry and got into the car. I jumped in the passenger seat and, before I knew what was happening, you hit the tree.”

  “Where was I going?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you’re okay.” He closed his eyes again.

  She lowered the head of her bed and once again shut her eyes. Maybe if she gave her brain a rest she’d wake up with all her memories restored.

  Maybe when the sun came up in the morning she’d remember how very much she loved Nick and why. Despite the fact that she was safe and relatively unhurt, a dark fear whispered inside her.

  Chapter Two

  If there was prison time for lies told, throughout the long night Nick had earned a life sentence. Julie’s amnesia had been both a blessing and a curse.

  He now sat in the hospital cafeteria with a cup of coffee and the morning newspaper in front of him. He turned the pages slowly, a knot inside his chest as he searched for a story about a specific murder.

  Had anyone seen him on the street before the accident? Had some late-night soul peeked out the window in time to see him running by? Would all of his lies come to light?

  He couldn’t get the vision of Brian out of his head. Who had murdered him? And what about the strange carving in his forehead? Did it mean anything or was it just a coincidence that it looked like a V?

  He checked every single page, but there was no story in the paper about that particular murder. It was possible Brian’s body hadn’t even been found yet. He lived alone and Nick couldn’t imagine the creep had too many friends.

  But Nick couldn’t be sure he was out of hot water yet. He thought of the 1970’s Son of Sam killer. David Berkowitz had terrorized New York by shooting eight people before a traffic ticket had led to his arrest.

  And at the moment Nick’s car was parked on a residential street where it didn’t belong. No, Nick wouldn’t breathe easier until Brian McDowell’s killer was caught. Only then would he believe he was truly safe.

  He shoved the paper aside and wrapped his hands around the foam cup of coffee. The murder wasn’t his only problem. Julie Peterson. He’d intentionally taken advantage of her amnesia to save his own butt, but somehow he now felt responsible for her.

  She’d made it clear when she’d awakened that morning that she was depending on him to get her through this difficult period. She’d almost begged him to promise to stay close to her until her memories returned.

  He’d thought to get her home from the hospital and then disappear from her life. But how could he do that to her? How could he take away the one thing she believed was true when she was obviously struggling with her missing memories?

  It didn’t help that she had beautiful blue eyes that held more than a touch of vulnerability. It didn’t help that her heart-shaped face and spill of dark hair fired up a heat inside him he found both unexpected and unwanted. What a damn mess he’d made of things.

  Right now the doctor was supposed to be writing out her release orders. They would be taking a taxi home because his car was still parked on a street where it didn’t belong. He had to figure out how in the hell he was going to get it and he needed to get it as soon as possible.

  Julie had complained of a headache in the wee hours of the morning and they had given her something for pain. Nick wished somebody would give him something for the festering fear that tightened his chest to the point he could scarcely breathe.

  He was terrified Julie would regain her memories and yet knew the only way to exit her life was for her to regain her memories. There was nothing worse than being an attempted murderer and having a conscience. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility that she already had a boyfriend. That would be a complication he definitely didn’t need.

  It was a damned quagmire and right now he couldn’t see his way out of it. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Julie, who had only been an innocent victim in all this.

  He hadn’t slept at all through the night. If it wasn’t a nurse coming in to check Julie’s vitals that kept sleep at bay, it was Julie softly calling his name to make sure he was still with her.

  Checking his watch, he quickly downed the last of his coffee. He needed to get back to her room. She’d be anxiously waiting for him.

  And she was waiting for him. Perched on the edge of the bed and dressed in the jeans and sleeveless blue blouse she’d been in when she’d crashed her car, she held papers in her hand and her IV had been removed.

  She stood at the sight of him, her smile filled with relief. “I’m free to go. I just have to wait for a nurse to bring in a wheelchair.”

  Once again he was struck by her beauty. Even with her beautiful blue eyes telegraphing a simmering panic, she was stunning. Her long, dark hair was slightly tousled. Her nose was straight and her lips were just full enough to tempt a man. If she didn’t have a man in her life, he’d wonder why.

  “Nick?”

  She pulled him from his wayward thoughts.

  “I need to use your cell phone to call for a taxi,” he said.

  “Of course.” She dug in the purse next to her on the bed and withdrew the phone. “Want me to grab your hoodie?”

  “No!” The word snapped out of him. He smiled quickly. “I’ll get it. You just sit right there on the bed until your ride appears.”

  That was all he needed...for her to grab his sweatshirt and the gun and other items to fall out into the open.

  He made the call for a taxi, his nerves once again tightening his gut.

  “Here we are,” a nurse named Nancy said as she pushed a wheelchair into the room. “First-class transportation for the patient.”

  “This really isn’t necessary,” Julie said.

  “Hospital protocol,” Nancy replied cheerfully. “No matter how you come in, you always go out in a wheelchair.”

  Within twenty minutes they were getting into a taxi that would take them to her house. “I hope you can be patient with me,” she said once they were under way. “I’m going to have a million questions for you.” She grabbed his hand and held tight.

  He tried not to remember the last time a woman had held his hand, but the memory exploded in his mind. Debbie...broken and stabbed on the marble entry floor of a vacant mansion...the odor of her blood rife in the air. Her eyes glazed as she fought to maintain consciousness. He’d fallen to her side despite the police officers attempting to keep him away.

  That moment was etched deeply in his brain...the grief and the outrage, the disbelief and the overwhelming rage. He’d knelt beside her and had grasped her hand. “Debbie, who did this? Who did this to you, baby?” he’d cried.

  “Winthrop.” The name whispered from her just before she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Her fingers suddenly tightened around his. “Be happy,” she’d said and then she was gone, forever stolen
from him by an act of despicable inhumanity.

  “...happy to be home.” Julie’s voice yanked him out of the nightmare of his past as the cab pulled to a halt in front of an attractive two-story house at the back end of a cul-de-sac.

  She released his hand to get into her purse and pay the driver.

  They both got out and the taxi pulled away.

  Nick followed her to the front door, his chest tight with tension. Once they were inside, his lies would continue because he didn’t know what else to do.

  He couldn’t very well confess to her the truth: that he’d used her and her accident because he’d been in the neighborhood to commit a murder and needed a fast alibi. His biggest concern now was getting his car off the residential street where it didn’t belong.

  She opened the front door and he followed her into an entry hall with a black-and-gray-tiled floor. She dropped her keys in a basket on a small table and then took a step into what he assumed was the living area. And gasped.

  A white-brick fireplace graced one wall. A black-leather sofa sat between two glass-topped end tables. The glass coffee table held a centerpiece that showcased red and bright yellow flowers. The furnishings were modern and tasteful, but the reason for her gasp was instantly evident.

  The remnants of a floor lamp lay on the floor, the white-glass globe nothing more than glittering shards against the tiled floor. A large red candle also lay on the floor in front of the shattered glass of a painting on the wall.

  She turned to look at Nick, her expression one of stunned surprise. “You said we fought...” Her voice trailed off.

  He improvised. “We were both very angry. I broke the lamp and you threw the candle at the painting.”

  Somebody had fought in this room. Of course, he had no idea what had happened in her living room the night before. She was so vulnerable without her memories. Now he wondered if somehow Julie was in danger.

  What or who had she been running from last night?

  * * *

  THE BROKEN LAMP and the shattered glass from the painting horrified her. She’d never been a fighter and rarely lost her temper. At least she remembered that about herself from a year ago. What had happened in the past ten months that had turned her into a woman who would throw a candle at a beautiful painting? Who apparently didn’t have any control over her emotions?