But then he shifted and pain shot through him. The leg had swollen, and some of the lacerations not only bled but oozed. He’d done what he could with the small first-aid kit, but the injuries were too many. His right knee and ankle had swollen, though the pain in that leg had a different tenor and he suspected sprained ligaments. If the injuries had all been to one leg, he might have attempted escape, but having both legs unable to kick and bear weight had made the battering beneath the falls an unwarranted risk he knew better than to consider—until now.
His original focus had been to deal with his condition until help came. But it had been three days, and he had to face the fact that help might not come. His only chance—and Gentry’s—could be for him to make it out.
It wasn’t fear that hollowed his insides at the thought. It was cold reality.
Jade made her way up to the kitchen where Cameron and Nica were seated at the round rattan-and-glass table. It had taken her a good part of the night to fall asleep, and it showed. Her eyes were hollowed and her head ached. Hour after hour chasing after sleep, she had felt so close to remembering things, but then they’d drift away like the mists outside, as insubstantial and impossible to grasp. Seriously discouraging.
Cameron looked up from the morning Islander, his smile as sincere as a salamander. “And who are we this morning?”
She glared at his rested and robust mien. “Who we’ve always been, regardless of recall.”
Nica sliced a papaya and laid the coral-colored slivers next to the chunks of fresh golden pineapple on the plate. “Good morning, Jade. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really.” She tenaciously held Cameron’s stare. “I couldn’t stop trying to remember.”
He laid the newspaper down. “And?”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m not sure pressure helps.”
“Wouldn’t really know, though, without a professional opinion.”
“Are you offering yours?”
“I’m suggesting a doctor.”
A thin, gray-and-white cat circled the table, meowing with a raspy noise that sounded as though something had stomped its throat.
“I suppose you’re paying since I have no money, no ID, no credit card or proof of insurance.” She took a seat at the table and breathed the sweet, tangy aroma of the fruit. “I think we discussed that yesterday.”
“A stop at the Hanalei precinct would take care of it.”
“I can’t risk the pub—” The word died in her throat. Aggravation with him had spurred another glimmer. But why would she be concerned with publicity?
He cocked his chin up. “What?”
“Nothing.”
His gaze locked on like an arched and hooded king cobra’s. “Can’t risk publicity?” The mesmerizing stare laid siege to her defenses. “What don’t you want publicized?”
Her mind fought for an answer. It was almost painful.
“Please,” Nica murmured.
Cameron’s combative attitude had challenged her complacent mind and triggered thoughts or at least impressions that slipped past her block. But sensitive to Nica, he sat back, palms resting on the table. “You need a medical opinion. Your memory could be blocked by a clot or tumor. We’re only assuming a head injury, and none of us—” He glanced at Nica. “Not even Okelani is qualified to make a diagnosis.”
Clot? Tumor? Her stress level was so much better now.
“Can we vouch for her?” Nica’s soft voice broke through their standoff. “Say she’s our guest from the mainland and …”
“Make up a name, a story?” Cameron’s gaze was gentle on his sister, but it was obvious what he thought of the idea. “You want to falsify records?”
Jade tightened her jaw. “I’m not asking anyone to lie for me. And I’m not going to the hospital. There’ll be too many questions. You can’t keep something like this quiet.” Again she had the need to shield herself, even if she couldn’t tell him why.
He turned back and fixed her with a probing frown. “Should we recognize you?”
She glared back. “America’s Most Wanted, maybe?”
“Why the aversion to publicity?”
“I’m not av—” Or was she? She turned away and chewed her lower lip.
“What if he’s right, Jade?” Nica slid the fruit plate her way. “We should rule out something more serious.” Her voice quavered. “Something life-threatening.”
Jade sank back in her chair. “Life-threatening?”
For the first time Cameron’s tone softened toward her. “I’ll guarantee payment. You can pay me back when your insurance reimburses you.”
Jade swallowed. “You think something’s wrong. Really wrong.”
He flicked a glance at his sister. “Nica’s worried. I want to set her mind at ease.”
“It’s not about me.” Nica squeezed her hands together. It obviously was to him.
His tone was reasonable. “I think we should know what we’re dealing with.”
Jade almost snapped that he wasn’t dealing with anything, but that would be untrue. He and Nica had both been dragged into her situation. And what if it was something serious, life-threatening? “What if I don’t have insurance and can’t reimburse you?”
“I don’t think you’re indigent.”
“Your crystal ball again?”
“You were wearing Merrell Chameleon hikers when Nica found you, and your pack is top-of-the-line.”
“Do you always pry into people’s personal belongings?”
“When I’m asked to investigate.”
Nica gasped. “I asked you to help, not …”
“It helps to gather everything I can from what I have to work with. People who vacation on Kauai with premier sporting gear are likely to have insurance.”
Jade dropped her hands to her lap. “You make a lot of assumptions.”
“My profession is mostly gut instinct.”
“Then I’m certainly a dangerous criminal you want nothing to do with.”
“An MRI might clear things up.”
Was there a tumor in her brain, something malignant squeezing out the memories, making her paranoid? Had she wandered into the mountains in some kind of daze? She shivered. “All right. I’ll see a doctor.” It was probably the right thing anyway. “But no police. People listen to scanners.”
He raised curious brows. She squeezed her temples, surprised herself by the things coming out of her mouth. She was sitting at a table with strangers, wearing a borrowed sundress, and wondering, wondering. Tears caught in the back of her throat.
Cameron’s tumor comment scared her, even if he was just protecting his sister, who might very well need protecting. She had intruded on them. And her resistance to the obvious steps seemed ludicrous. “I’ll get my—your sandals on.”
“Jade.” Nica touched her shoulder. “Only if you want this.”
She sighed. “I want to remember.” At least she thought she did.
Cameron crossed his ankles and watched her all the way to the glass door that opened to the lanai. She resisted glaring back at his cynical face. She had nothing to go on except her inner perception of self, but she didn’t think he was right about her. Avoiding a spectacle didn’t make her dishonest or criminal. He was probably right that she needed to be examined, but his suspicions infuriated her.
The outside stairs were the only way back to her little porch room. If only she could stay there. She had the strongest feeling that she was about to set things in motion that she had no power to control.
FIVE
Cameron sat with Nica and Jade in the cramped medical office as Dr. Yamaguchi explained the results of her tests. “A contusion to the central area of the brain can disrupt retrieval of retrograde memory while allowing normal formation and storage of new—exactly the type of amnesia you’re experiencing.” He seemed intrigued by Jade’s case, but not overly concerned. “I would like to schedule an MRI for tomorrow to gauge the full extent of the injury.”
Cameron nodded for her to agr
ee to it. He’d cover that expense, as well, in order to lay Nica’s mind at rest. He felt confident Jade had the resources to repay him, though it might be through ill-gotten gains—in which case a reward could cover her debt.
“But,” the neurologist emphasized, “I’m doubtful we’ll see any signs of hemorrhage or tumor.”
From his vantage point, Jade’s relief seemed sincere, Nica’s transcendent. If the news had been bad, he would not have let her stay. He might have tried to find her another place, looked for family or friends. At the very least he’d have convinced her to rely on the authorities to assist her. Anything to save Nica the angst she would suffer watching another person come to her and die. That much, at least, was no longer a concern.
“So, I will remember.” Jade’s voice held a cautious expectancy.
The doctor shifted the thin wire rims up the narrow bridge of his nose. “This complete a loss for this duration is unusual, but every amnesia is different. Very likely things will return to normal within days, maybe even hours.”
Hope bloomed in her face. If she was faking, she was good. And he’d run into plenty of consummate fakers, people who milked similar situations for all they were worth. He was singularly able to take them apart, but Jade’s reluctance to seek medical help didn’t fit his experience.
“It is also possible that some things may never return,” the doctor told her. “Directly before and after the accident, for instance.”
They had guessed she’d fallen while hiking one of the trails, and that was possibly true. Other scenarios were possible too. Like a blow to the head. Her initial paranoia might suggest an attack, and explain her insistence on remaining anonymous if she knew the attacker. He didn’t want Nica caught between.
“Rest is essential,” Dr. Yamaguchi said. “Let your body’s energies realign.”
Jade thanked him, then turned with a vindicated visage. Cameron paid the bill. Outside, he let them into his truck with Nica in the middle like the soft tissue of an inflamed joint, between two bones juxtaposed and out of sync. Nica didn’t want Jade pushed further than she was ready to go, but it was his pushing that had gotten them this far. Besides, if Jade wanted to know who she was, why resist the step that could lead to answers? If she was in danger, that step was even more necessary.
He started the truck. “Now that we can assume you’re not dying, we ought to work on figuring out who you are.”
“The doctor said I’ll remember.”
“If you went to the police, they could circulate your picture, even put it on the news. Someone would recognize you.”
She turned and gaped.
Still a hot button. He pushed it. “Doesn’t that make sense?”
“I told you no.”
Nica touched his arm, but her peacemaking was starting to grate. If he could give her a perfect world, he would. But that wasn’t reality. She might experience violence up close and personal if Jade was in real trouble.
Driving the winding road from the hospital, he divided his attention between it and Jade’s face. Late twenties, he guessed, and more attractive in the whole than in her individual features. Except for her eyes. Memorable eyes, a vibrant shade between green and blue, and her hair; amber overlaid with gold. And her mouth—He shook himself. Get a grip. She enticingly filled out Nica’s dress but had an athletic definition to her limbs, a combination of soft and strong that would once have drawn a powerful response.
The irritation of that thought made him caustic. “What are you trying to avoid?”
She jutted her chin. “My picture plastered all over the news? Cameras flashing every time I show my face, people ramming mics, demanding answers?” Brow pinched, she pressed her fingers to her temple.
Hard to imagine the sleepy Hanalei precinct managing anything of that scale. But her scenario sounded like experience, so he pressed harder. If she got mad enough, she might break through. “Sounds like gross exaggeration.”
“You haven’t been there.”
Bingo. “Have you?”
She didn’t answer, just stared out the window as he pulled onto Highway 50, the two lanes that circled the developed part of the island and led back to Hanalei. He wanted to push again, but Nica was pale with distress. He’d have to wait, get Jade alone. Before his mind took that and ran, he reminded himself she was under investigation. His.
Jade clenched her hands. Fear had made a burrow and hunkered down in the hollow of her stomach. Not fear for her physical condition anymore, but of what might lurk in her mind. Was the scene she’d imagined gross exaggeration? She’d felt the press of people, all of them wanting a piece of her. She’d felt judged and condemned. Wounded.
Had she been accused of something, found guilty? She didn’t feel guilty. Just scared. And angry. Her anger wanted an object and, not recalling its source, settled on Cameron Pierce. What right did he have to force her into anything? She’d gotten answers, but was she any better off than before he’d started laying new fears on top of old?
She stared out the window. Her anger might be misdirected, but it was potent. She wanted to strike out—strike back? The thought caught her short. At whom? Or what?
She leaned her shoulder to the door. If she fell out, would another blow to the head restore her identity like a character in a zany cartoon, conked with a hammer twice her size? Tears stung. “Lord,” she whispered, then startled with the revelation.
It had felt natural and right to call on God. Reflexive. Habitual. She must believe. She couldn’t conjure an experience or practice of religion, but in that unguarded moment, she’d looked outside herself for strength. Did faith exist with nothing concrete to anchor it? And if memory never returned, would she still have such reflexes to live by?
The shoreline they wove through was lovely, forested with lush flowering trees that gave way to half-moon beaches of golden sand and turquoise water crashing white and retreating. Paradise found, but what had she lost?
As they approached the combined Hanalei fire and police building, did she imagine Cameron slowing? She kept her face to the window, refusing to react. Maybe he would leave, go back to wherever he came from and forget about her. Hah.
Back home, Nica slid out of the truck behind Jade, absorbing her weariness and confusion as she’d soaked up their tension. She felt battle weary, though the last part of the drive had been silent. Doubt and scrutiny, resistance and fear had tugged at her like the ocean she hadn’t stepped foot in for years.
She was failing to bring peace to the person entrusted to her care. “The doctor said to rest, Jade. Do you feel like lying down?”
“Maybe I should.”
“There are books in the cabinet next to the bed, if you like to read.”
Jade shrugged. “Maybe I do.”
Coming around the truck, Cameron didn’t stop Jade from walking straight-backed into her room.
Nica said, “I want you to stop, Kai.”
“Stop?”
She nodded. “Now that I know she’s all right—”
“She’s not all right.”
“A full recovery, the doctor said. This isn’t like the others.” A shadow passed over her spine. Some called her an angel of mercy; she felt like the angel of death. “She’s going to recover.”
“I don’t think she wants to. I think she’s hiding something.”
“What?”
Hands on his hips, he hung his head back, exasperated. “Come on, Nica. Something happened out there.” He swung his arm inland. “Why won’t she help us learn what?”
She could think of reasons. In fact, she understood Jade’s reluctance better than he knew. Some things belonged to the shadows.
He cocked his jaw. “You don’t really think she went off by herself and took a tumble.”
“I don’t know—”
“Anything about her.”
“But—”
He raised his hand. “I don’t want to fight. You called because you knew something wasn’t right. Don’t lose sight of that in
your desire to help.”
She did think something more was wrong than a hiking accident, especially with Okelani’s warning. But that didn’t mean she blamed Jade. She wanted Kai to help her, but his doubt was a quagmire sucking them both in. “Why are you so distrustful?” He hadn’t always been, but she shouldn’t have said it. “I’m sorry, Kai.”
He brushed it off. “If she hasn’t remembered by tomorrow, I’m going to the police. You could be harboring a—”
“Don’t say it.” She didn’t want him planting thoughts that could shake her belief in Okelani, her trust in Jade. Cameron no longer believed or trusted, not without proof. And so many things in life happened without proof.
He looked toward the house where Jade had disappeared. “There’s more to this than what we’ve heard.”
“That doesn’t mean Jade’s keeping it from us.”
He sighed and pulled her into a hug. “I just want you prepared for whatever happens.”
As though that was ever possible. “Okelani would have told me if there was anything like that.”
“Okelani has an uncanny connection to God’s mind, but she doesn’t know everything.”
When he let her go, she felt the loss. There was no safer place than her brother’s arms, head pressed to his chest. She could still sometimes hear his heartbeat, even after he’d flown back across the Pacific. More than anyone else, she trusted Kai, even when he pushed and questioned. That was why she’d called him.
If Okelani sensed a storm, Nica wanted the safe harbor of her big brother. Jade’s injury might not be life-threatening, but that knowledge hadn’t lifted the pall of impending death as she’d hoped. Kai must sense it too. In his less-spiritual but intuitive way, her brother saw what others missed. And this time, he didn’t like what he saw.
He pulled with his arms, ignoring the suffocating pain of each jolt and drag. The swollen leg throbbed and burned as he inched nearer the echoing falls. Four days of inertia must have stabilized the bone somewhat, but the pain had increased incrementally, and he could no longer deny signs of infection.
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