by Curry, Edna
She was in a hospital. The empty second bed in the room was neatly made, the curtain between the beds pulled back. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She worked it around, trying to free it, and then spied a glass of water with a straw on her bedside table. She eased herself to a sitting position and reached for it, her muscles screaming in protest. An IV prevented her from using one arm. Gratefully, she swallowed the water. God, but she hurt. What had happened to her?
A stocky, middle-aged nurse came in pushing a little cart of medical equipment. “Oh, you’re awake, dear. Good. I’ll take your vital signs now. Your breakfast will be here in a minute. They tell me you’re a miracle woman who survived going through that nasty bear trap by the dam! How are you?”
“I seem to hurt in every muscle,” she said ruefully. “Where am I?”
“Why, you’re in the hospital, of course, dear.” The nurse checked her IV, stuck a thermometer in her mouth, read it and pronounced, “Normal. You’re doing great.” She ejected the disposable end of the thermometer into the waste basket.
“Which hospital?” She rubbed her sore throat with her fingers.
The nurse sent her a strange look as she put a blood pressure cuff on her arm. “There’s only one in our little town. St. Croix Memorial.”
Was the woman dense or what? “I mean, which town am I in?” she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She winced as the nurse tightened the cuff.
“Oh. St. Croix Falls.”
Frustration knotted her gut. She closed her eyes and shook her head, which ached at the movement. “Where is St. Croix Falls? How did I get here?”
The nurse chewed her lip. “Why, it’s on the Minnesota and Wisconsin border, of course. The sheriff and the ambulance crew brought you in last night.”
The nurse took off the cuff, eyed her and said more kindly, “Are you still confused about things, dear?”
She sighed and nodded. Vaguely now, she remembered the ambulance ride and talking to the tall, dark haired doctor last night. The stick of his needle as he stitched her arm. She glanced down at a bandage on her arm. “How bad is it? Will I have a scar?”
“Not too bad. I think it’ll heal up okay. And I imagine almost drowning would leave anyone a bit confused. They said you fell into the river, and that water’s still pretty cold, too.”
Oh, God, yes, the cold water and the struggle to get out of the river. How could she have forgotten? She shuddered as the memories returned.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have hypothermia,” the nurse said. “What’s your name?”
She swallowed and tried to think. Panic gripped her throat. Everyone knew their own name, didn’t they? But nothing came to her. “I don’t know.”
“Well, never mind.” The nurse patted her hand. “They listed you as ‘Jane Doe’ on your chart. So why don’t we call you Jane for now?”
She watched the woman take her pulse. Jane. No, that didn’t sound right. But what did? Nothing came to mind, so she said, “All right.”
The nurse frowned at her. “You didn’t jump into the river on purpose?”
She gasped. “Suicide?” Instinctively she rejected the idea. “I would never do that!”
“How do you know you wouldn’t, if you don’t even know who you are?”
Anger surged through her and she felt her face heat up. “I’m not a coward. I know I would never attempt suicide to solve a problem,” she stated positively.
The nurse eyed her. “Do you know where you are from?”
Again she shook her head. “I don’t know that, either.” Her stomach churned with fear. What was happening to her?
The nurse smiled and patted her again reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll come back to you once the shock of it wears off.” She made notes on her chart and rolled her cart out the door.
Jane lay back in her bed. The sheets felt cool against her skin. What was she going to do? Would her memory come back to her? Where would she live? Where would she go? How was she going to pay for this hospital bill? Did she have any money or insurance? Odd how she could remember there were such things and she needed them, but couldn’t remember if she had them or where she lived.
She tried to think back to yesterday. But her first memories were of being in the cold, dark water, fighting the strong current for her life. Banging against sharp rocks in the water. Climbing out onto the muddy river bank and feeling the welcome heat of the summer sun on her cold skin. Finding the locked cabin.
Then the scary scene in the cabin when she woke up with men staring at her. At first she’d been afraid, but they were kind and helped her. But now what would happen?
A few minutes later the doctor she’d seen last night walked in, followed by another nurse. They asked questions, too. When she couldn’t answer them, the doctor nodded and strode out, his nurse hurrying after him.
She lay back to ponder her situation. She knew she must avoid scandal at all cost, but she had no idea why she felt that way. What would happen to her now?
Chapter 3
Later that morning, a young, cheerful aide arrived with Jane’s breakfast tray, her movements quick and efficient. She positioned the table in front of Jane and hurried on to her next charge.
Jane’s stomach growled with hunger. Still, when she tried to eat, panic bred by her situation tightened her throat, making it hard to swallow the oatmeal. The toast scratched her sore throat. After a couple of bites, she put it aside. But the coffee tasted wonderful. She closed her eyes as she sipped and savored the hot, fragrant brew. Umm. I need my morning caffeine. I’m never any good without my coffee.
Now where had that thought come from?
Sheriff Ben knocked on her open door and walked in, smiling at her. “Good morning! Remember me? Sheriff Ben?” At her nod, he went on, “I’m so glad to see you’re sitting up and eating. How are you this morning?”
She eyed him. A tall, lanky man, somewhere in his late forties, dressed in a light weight uniform. He wore a badge, had a holster at his hip, carried an air of authority and walked with confidence. She knew she was supposed to avoid the law. But why? Whose rule was that? He seemed very nice and had brought her here to get warm and dry. She answered, “I’m okay, just sore all over.”
“You’re a mighty lucky girl to be alive.” he assured her.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” she said, giving him a smile. “Where’s Mel, the man whose cabin I found?”
“Mel’s at his accounting office in Landers, across the river. He said he’d stop by to see you later.”
“Oh. I thought he worked with you.” Why was she disappointed he wasn’t here now with the sheriff? She’d only seen the man once. But she’d glimpsed genuine kindness in his sky blue eyes. He’d cared about her and she’d immediately trusted him.
Ben shook his head. “No, but he did security work in the military.”
“I see.” She tried to picture him in an army uniform. Or maybe a Marine’s.
Ben asked, “You still haven’t remembered your name?”
She shook her head, panic returning. She pushed away the rolling table holding the remains of her breakfast. “They’re calling me Jane Doe.”
He laughed. “They need something for their records.”
“I suppose.”
Ben said gently, “No one fitting your description has been reported as missing so far.”
“Oh.” She swallowed and looked away. So no one cared about her enough to miss her. Or she lived alone. “What am I going to do if I don’t get my memory back?” she asked. “What if no one claims me as their family member and I can’t pay my hospital bill?”
Ben smiled at her. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure out something. The county has programs for emergencies. I’d like to take your fingerprints, if you don’t mind? Maybe I can find out your identity from them. If you have a family, they must be very worried.”
“Oh!” Relief ran through her. She smiled back at him. Of course, the sheriff had ways to identify
her. He’d figure out who she was, where she belonged. “Sure.”
Doubt crept in. Did he think she was a criminal? Would her fingerprints tell him so? She swallowed and watched him open a little kit on her bedside table. She held out her hand and allowed him to roll her fingers on the ink pad and record her prints. His long fingers were calloused and rough, but his touch was warm and gentle as he manipulated her hand, careful to avoid the trailing IV tube.
“You’re not wearing any rings,” he commented.
“No, I’m not, am I?” She followed his gaze to her hands. She had slim fingers, a couple of broken fingernails, and only spots of bright red nail polish. What a mess. She definitely needed a manicure.
“Probably means you’re not married,” he said companionably.
“Married women usually wear rings,” she agreed. What if she had no one to miss her?
”I tried to get your prints from a plastic cup last night, but they were too smudged,” Ben said as he worked. “These will be better, I’m sure.”
He put his equipment away and handed her a moist towelette to clean the ink from her fingers. “Sorry about the ink. Do you remember anything at all from yesterday?”
“Nothing before I came to in the water.”
Ben sighed. “Well, tell me what you do remember.”
She nodded and stared out the window, then began talking softly, describing her ordeal in the river. “I’m a good swimmer,” she ended, “but when the current pulled me under the cold water over and over, I was sure I would die.”
“I figured you must be a good swimmer to have survived.”
She nodded. “I kept bumping into rocks in the river and trying to grab onto them, but my hands kept slipping off. Finally, my feet touched the sandy bottom and I was able to stand.”
“You’d been carried downstream to where the river is shallower,” Ben explained.
She gave him a wry smile. “I suppose. Anyway, I found the cabin and thought I’d find a telephone or someone to help me. But the cabin was empty. I’m sorry I had to break the window to get in. I was so tired and wet and cold. When I found the knitted afghan on the sofa, I wrapped myself up. I must have fallen asleep. I hope Mel didn’t mind my making myself at home.”
“Don’t worry about that. Of course Mel doesn’t mind,” Ben said. “We’re all so thankful you survived. He saw you go into the river, helped us hunt for you all afternoon.”
“He did?”
“Yes. His accounting office is in a house right on the river bank. He happened to be at the window, saw you fall and called for help. You must have a guardian angel watching over you.”
She laughed. “Sheriff, wouldn’t a guardian angel have kept me from falling in the river in the first place?”
Ben grinned and shrugged. “True. Anyway, we’d all been searching the river for you for hours without finding a trace of you.”
“I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.”
“No problem. Part of my job. We didn’t find you, but when Mel went to his cabin for the night, he did.”
“Yes.”
Ben eyed her, hesitating. “I need to tell you something else.”
“Yes?” Jane waited. Now what? The worried look on the sheriff’s face had anxiety spiraling inside her. He didn’t like having to tell her something. She was homeless and anonymous. What could be worse?
Ben shifted his feet and rubbed a long finger along the side of his nose. He met her eyes. “Mel says you didn’t just fall in. He saw someone on the cliff with you.”
“A man?”
“He thinks so, yes, but he’s not sure. Too far away to tell. Do you remember being with anyone yesterday?”
“No.” She shook her head. “If someone was with me, where is he? Why didn’t he call for help? Why hasn’t he been here to answer questions? He must know who I am and where I live.”
“I’m sure he must.” Ben hesitated and then said, “Mel saw him push you off the cliff. That’s probably why he’s disappeared.”
Jane’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God! You mean he tried to kill me?”
Ben nodded, his face grim. “Sure looks like it. Most people don’t survive going through that stretch of rough water below the dam.”
“He must hate me,” she whispered. If so, she was well rid of the jerk. What kind of man tried to kill someone?
“Or she,” Ben reminded her. “Remember it might’ve been a woman. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Ben patted her hand awkwardly.
She opened her eyes and forced a smile onto her lips. “That’s okay, Sheriff. It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but this must be a shock to you.”
“Yes.” She looked away, staring out the window for a long minute. Then she looked back at Ben. “Is that why you had a deputy outside my door?”
“Yeah. We thought he might come back.”
She nodded. “I suppose. If you find this man, what can you charge him with?”
Ben rubbed his nose again, thoughtfully. “I’d like to make attempted murder stick. But we have only Mel’s word for that and he was too far away to positively identify the person. So, I’m hoping you get your memory back so you can tell us who it was and whether he or she pushed you in on purpose. Your testimony would do it, I think.”
“I see.” She chewed her lip, staring out the window. She was on the second floor and only the tops of trees were visible against the blue sky.
“The newspapers want to run a story about this. We could run your picture and see if someone identifies you.”
She jerked back to face him. “No! I told you, no reporters.”
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Too late. I’m afraid our little paper already has something in print. I’ll tell them you don’t want any more publicity, though.”
“All right. Thanks.”
Ben eyed her. “You’re awfully pale. You’d better rest. I’ll go run these prints and see what I can find out. Don’t worry, we’ll find out who you are. We usually do.”
“Sure.” She smiled woodenly and watched him stride out. Nice. Everyone was being so nice to her, a stranger. How could she ever repay them?
The nurse returned. “We can get rid of this IV now.” She disconnected it and put a band aid over the wound. Are you up to a shower, dear?”
“Sure.” Wincing as her sore muscles screamed in protest, Jane eased out of bed and made her way to the little bathroom. The nurse helped her undress and adjusted the water. She laid out shampoo, a fresh hospital gown and panties.
“Sure you’re okay? Don’t feel woozy? Do you want me to stay with you?”
“I’m fine,” Jane assured her, though she wasn’t fine at all. Between the nausea and Ben’s revelation, she felt awful. The nurse nodded and left her.
Jane caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and gasped. She stared, but didn’t recognize the woman looking back. She appeared to be in her mid twenties, with regular features and smooth white skin except for a cheek scraped raw. Probably not bad looking normally. Long, dirty red hair and red eyebrows with a purple bruise above one eye. Or was part of it mud?
What a mess. And they’d cleaned her up when they’d brought her in here last night. How had she looked before? Picking up the shampoo, she stepped under the warm shower to remedy that situation. Her body seemed to have bruises everywhere. She bathed carefully, wincing when she touched a sore spot. She toweled her hair and patted herself dry. After putting on the clean gown, she stepped out of the bathroom, feeling weak and exhausted from the effort.
The nurse waited. She’d changed the bed linens and smiled at Jane. “Feel better now?”
Jane nodded. The nurse helped her into the freshly made-up bed, handed her a comb and mirror and left. Jane began working the tangles out of her hair.
Better physically, yes. But emotionally, no. Anxiety curled in her gut again. What was she going to do? What if they couldn’t find out her identity? Where she lived? What then?
Tears stung behind Jane’s
lids and she lay back and closed her eyes.
What kind of man would try to kill someone? What kind of a jerk had she gotten mixed up with? A criminal? Was she a bad person, too?
She shuddered and rejected that thought. She might not know her name, but she knew she’d never knowingly be involved in anything illegal. If he’d pushed her off the cliff, he was not a nice man. So he could be involved in other bad activities, couldn’t he?
She tried to avoid thinking about it. Mama will be furious. I can’t tell her someone tried to kill me. The newspapers and gossip rags will have a field day.
Her pulse pounded as, for a fleeting second, she’d almost pictured her mama and imagined her disapproving voice. She had to avoid the scandal.
If only she could catch that memory and make it come in clear. If she could picture her mama’s face, she might remember her name. But the memory was gone. She sighed. One step forward and two back.
However, now she was sure somewhere she had a mother. And her mother was very afraid of scandal and reporters. Why? Would it stop Mama from coming forward to identify her? She didn’t know.
Why couldn’t she remember? She lay back against the pillow and allowed tears of frustration to come.
~ * ~
At his desk in his accounting office, Mel stared at meaningless figures on his computer screen. With a sigh, he gave up trying to get any work done and shut down his computer. The woman’s white face kept getting in the way of the figures on his computer screen.
He poured a cup of coffee and moved to his window to drink it. Gazing at the rippling water, he wondered how she was doing this morning. When their usual group of men met for coffee at the Flame Restaurant this morning, Ben had admitted he’d made no progress on identifying either the mystery woman or the person Mel had seen with her at the dam. Nor had Ben or his deputies found any evidence or anyone who remembered seeing a vehicle near the dam road about that time.
So, everyone was calling her Jane Doe for now. In his mind’s eye, Mel kept seeing the shell-shocked look in her lovely green eyes. She’d haunted his dreams last night and he still saw those panicked eyes when he closed his.