“Oh.” She studied the menu.
“You won’t find any yogurt and berries here, sweetheart.” A cup of coffee in a white ceramic mug appeared in front of her.
Alex looked up at the source of the growl. Tall, bald and intimidating were the first three words that came to mind.
“No fancy flavored creamers, either,” Tank told Alex.
“I drink it black.” She picked up her cup and discovered the brew was strong enough to carry her into the following week.
“Tank owns the place and does most of the cooking,” Dylan explained to Alex. “You can’t scare off Alex, Tank. She’s a lawyer.”
“That must have been one dissatisfied client,” Tank said, looking at Alex’s face.
“And here I thought the makeup did a great job of hiding the damage,” she said with a wry smile.
“The lady has some class. There’s hope for you yet,” Tank told Dylan. He turned to Alex. “What’ll you have, sweetheart?”
“Do you think I could have two eggs over easy, bacon and French toast?” she asked
He nodded his approval. “You want your usual?” he asked Dylan.
“Yeah.”
Alex looked inquiringly at Dylan.
“Ham-and-cheese omelet topped with a salsa that can burn your tongue off, hash browns and sourdough toast,” he explained.
“You must come here a lot,” she said.
“It’s always been pretty much a cop hangout.” He drank his coffee.
“But he doesn’t—” She stopped.
“What?”
She shook her head. She realized she didn’t want to go on. It was apparent that Dylan came here a lot, yet the owner didn’t know her. That had to mean they didn’t come here when they were married. She did remember that she never considered breakfast an important meal. She’d been happy with coffee and a bagel at her desk. No wonder she felt as if she were tiptoeing across a mine-field—more because of what she didn’t remember than what she did.
“Nothing,” she murmured, taking refuge in her coffee cup.
Even with her troubled thoughts, Alex soon discovered they didn’t interfere with her appetite. Under Tank’s smiling approval, she ate a hearty breakfast fit for a lumberjack.
“Honey, you can come back anytime,” he rumbled. “You don’t even have to bring this bastard in with you.”
“I’m the one paying the bill,” Dylan grumbled, digging in his pocket for his wallet. “And I’ll be the one leaving a tip.”
“Then make sure you tip appropriately.” The burly man scowled at him, then turned to Alex with a smile that she easily returned. “You better get the SOB who hurt her,” he said, turning back to Dylan.
“I intend to.” That was a vow he was determined to make good on.
“It was very nice to meet you,” Alex said, offering Tank her hand. “I have an idea that I haven’t had a breakfast that wonderful in a long time.”
“Okay, okay, his head’s swelled enough,” Dylan muttered, ushering Alex out of the diner. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. People would think you hadn’t eaten in months,” he said.
“For all I know, I ate that much yesterday,” she replied. “But I don’t think so.”
“I don’t think so, either. You were always big on counting calories and eating healthy. Today was the first time I saw French toast pass your lips.”
“Right now, that doesn’t seem as important.” She suddenly shivered as if a chill passed through her even though Dylan had cranked up the heater after he turned on the engine.
Dylan noticed the tremors running through her hands. He figured Alex wouldn’t appreciate it if he commented on it.
“Has anything else come to mind since last night?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking about it makes my headache worse.” Her fingers, which were lying in her lap, twitched. “If it wasn’t for that plane ticket I wouldn’t have known I was in San Francisco yesterday.”
“Can you think of any clients who might have given you trouble? Anyone who might think you didn’t do a good job for them?”
“I’m a corporate attorney, not criminal,” she reminded him, laughing at the idea. “If my clients aren’t happy with my services, they look for another attorney. They don’t have me attacked and robbed.”
“There’s always a first time.”
Alex shook her head. “I’m just an attorney dealing with dry facts.”
Dylan felt a strange sensation zing through his body. He remembered Alex saying something very similar when they’d first met at a city employee softball game, which Alex had attended as a city councilman’s date. It hadn’t taken him long to become convinced they were perfect for each other and imagine they’d spend the rest of their lives together. Dylan, the former party animal, saw them as the perfect couple with the clichéd house with a white picket fence, a dog and 2.5 kids running around in the backyard. But after they got married, Alex seemed to become obsessed with her career—at the expense of their relationship. He knew he hadn’t been perfect back then either. As Alex turned away from him more and more, he became just as remote. He walled off his feelings and he knew for that he shared the blame in the death of their marriage. So why did he still feel that old lusty hunger when he looked at her?
“Maybe Janet can think of something,” he said.
“It seems that you’re focusing an awful lot of attention on nothing more than a simple assault.” She knew she sounded sharper than usual, but she was already tired of the attention she’d received. Her memory might be damaged right now, but one thing she did know was that she preferred remaining in the background unless she was in court. “You’re saying you feel one of my clients is to blame for this. I refuse to believe that.”
“In my world, there’s no such thing as a simple assault,” Dylan said flatly.
Alex thought of what Dylan must have seen in his work dealing with domestic violence. “No, I guess there isn’t,” she murmured. “I guess I just want to get past this as fast as possible.”
Pulling into an empty spot in the office building’s parking lot, Dylan shut off the engine and stared out the windshield.
“There’s no such thing as a simple assault when I go into the ER and see a woman in pain, scared out of her mind and unable to understand why she lost the last two years of her life. In more ways than one, the woman I saw last night wasn’t the Alexandra Spencer I knew.” His voice softened as he turned to face her. “I don’t want to see that frightened woman again, Alex. And I don’t want you to do anything that could hurt your recovery. But I promise you, we will find these men and they will pay for what they did to you.”
She smiled faintly. “I know, Dylan. And I thank you for that.”
He nodded as he climbed out of the truck and walked around to her door. He helped her step down and walked beside her to the building entrance.
“Ms. Spencer, what happened to you?” the building security guard seated at the front desk asked her with concern, then directed a cold stare at Dylan. His expression warmed the moment it swung back to Alex.
“Now I know what it means to be mugged, Barney.” She smiled at the guard, waiting as he pushed the button releasing the electronic gate that allowed them to pass through to the elevators, then he noted her and Dylan’s names and the time in his log.
“If Zane was serious about security in his building, he’d hire someone with actual experience,” Dylan commented as they ascended in the elevator. “A rent-a-cop with a stun gun isn’t enough to stop a pissed-off client.”
“Barney’s also a martial arts expert,” she pointed out, grateful she remembered that little fact.
“Unlike in the movies, fancy moves don’t stop a bullet.”
“Are you trying to say that whoever attacked me could show up here?” She shook her head at the grim expression on Dylan’s face. “This wasn’t some sort of conspiracy plot, Dylan. People get mugged. Unfortunately, I was the latest statistic.”
She shook her head. “From what I understand I looked like a likely victim, what with the fog and all. Muggings happen.”
“Don’t be so quick to assume it’s random. Just because you think all your clients are walking on the right side of the law doesn’t mean they might not be doing something illegal they’re afraid you’ll find out about.”
She winced as a sharp stab of pain struck her in the vicinity of her wound. She lifted her hand to gently touch the area.
“That is ridiculous,” Alex argued. “I told you. All of my clients are legitimate business people. I don’t want to believe any of them would do worse than cheat on their income taxes.”
“Come on, Alex. You, of all people, know better. White-collar crime creates a lot of headaches for the cops,” he pointed out harshly.
Alex was taken aback by his tone. She didn’t ask him for clarification; she didn’t need it. She knew that Dylan dealt with the predators and comforted the prey. She knew no one was perfect, but she didn’t like to think that anyone she dealt with did something that warred with her own moral code. Even if she did know success in business didn’t make everyone honorable in their private lives.
She turned back to face the elevator door when it slid open. For the first time in hours, Alex felt as if she was in a familiar place that wouldn’t offer her any surprises.
She forestalled questions from the receptionist by smiling and nodding while walking swiftly toward her office.
Her assistant, Janet, a petite brunette, sprang up from her desk. She grabbed Alex’s hands and studied her face with dismay. “Oh, Alex! What happened to you?” she asked her boss. “I’ve been calling your apartment for the past hour. I was listening to your message on my voice mail, then I heard you cry out and the line was disconnected. What did the doctor say? Should you even be here today?” She displayed a pained expression of sympathy when she noticed the stitches peeking out from behind the artfully draped lock of hair and the cuts and bruises on Alex’s face. Her eyes widened when she saw Dylan, and her manner instantly turned to frost.
Alex stared at her assistant, concentrating on her first statement. “I called you last night?”
Janet nodded. Her eyes were filled with concern for her boss. “You said you wanted me to pull some files for you. You were emphatic that you wanted to take care of something first thing this morning.”
Alex’s breath caught in her throat. Could her call have something to do with her attack? “Whose file did I ask you to pull?”
Janet shook her head. “That’s all you said before you were cut off.”
“We need a copy of the voice mail.” Dylan verbally barged in since it was obvious the woman was intent on ignoring him.
Janet glared at him. “Come on, Detective, you know very well we’re talking attorney-client privilege.”
“And as you stated, no names were given during the message, so there’s no breach of confidentiality,” he countered. “But there might be background noise to help identify her attacker.”
Alex could feel her headache intensify. She wished she had asked the doctor when the pounding would stop or if she’d have to continue existing with someone tap dancing inside her head. Now she had to deal with the two people in front of her. What had Dylan done to cause such animosity in someone as sweet-natured as Janet?
“Dylan’s right, Janet. If I didn’t say any names there’s no reason he can’t hear the message. Would you please make a copy of it for him?” Alex cut in, afraid the two would come to blows.
She nodded reluctantly. “Of course. Do you want some coffee, Alex?” Her eyes flicked over her face. “Or maybe you should have some juice instead. Are you sure you should be here?”
“She’s only going to be here for a couple of hours,” Dylan said, maneuvering his body to stand next to Alex so Janet had no choice but to look at him. “I’ll be back to pick her up after I’ve checked out a few leads.”
Alex stepped around both of them and headed for her office. At the moment, she was looking forward to sitting down. But not for the world would she admit any weakness to Dylan. She sensed if she did he’d bundle her up and take her out of the building.
“Alex! I heard you’d just come in.” Immaculate in a chalk-stripe suit with Italian tailoring, Will Zane was the picture of a successful attorney. Walking toward Alex, he muttered a curse under his breath as he saw her face. “What happened?”
“I was robbed in the airport parking lot,” she replied. “But I am fine,” she said firmly. She didn’t miss that her boss had likewise ignored Dylan. She knew Dylan could be irritating at times, but she hadn’t realized there was animosity between Dylan and the people in her office. “It looks worse than it feels,” she lied gamely.
“I should be back in a couple of hours,” Dylan told her.
“Could you see when they’ll release my car?” She knew she would feel better when she had the assurance of her own transportation at hand.
“I’ll find out.” He glanced at Will. “Counselor, do you have a minute? You, too.” He looked at Janet. He walked out without waiting to see if they would follow.
“It’s getting more curious by the minute,” Alex whispered, watching the trio leave her office. She knew exactly what Dylan was going to say. She wished he would let go of his cop suspicions and realize what happened to her was nothing more than a random assault. It would be a different matter if it had been Will who had been attacked. A good many of his clients were accused of violent acts to begin with. She glanced down at her desk and began opening drawers.
Dylan walked partway down the hallway where he felt comfortable he wouldn’t be overheard.
“The blow to Alex’s head affected her memory,” he said bluntly. “So don’t expect her to be up to speed this morning.”
Will’s expression stiffened, showing the hard edges he exhibited in the courtroom. “Why the hell isn’t she in the hospital? Head injuries aren’t something to fool around with.”
“The ER doc ran tests and said there was no serious trauma,” Dylan said. “Only what they call selective amnesia. With luck, her memory will return in full force in no time.”
Will’s jaw tightened with anger. “What part of her memory? She knows us. And she knows you.” He flashed Dylan a look filled with disgust.
Dylan chose to ignore it. He’d given Will a hard time when Dylan was on the witness stand and he knew he’d be doing it again in the future. “When she was in the ER she thought we were still married.”
“What?” Janet couldn’t hold back her shock at his announcement.
Dylan knew the duo standing before him had never liked him, which had never mattered since he wasn’t too fond of them, either. Will Zane had a bad habit of getting guilty criminals out of jail. Janet just plain didn’t like him for reasons she never cared to share and Dylan never cared to pursue. “I explained to her last night that we’re divorced and she’s still trying to recover those memories, but the doctor said it could take time.”
Will looked off in the distance for a moment as he digested Dylan’s words, then he turned back to him. “Are you saying a neurologist didn’t check her out? Or didn’t you think to demand that? Oh, that’s right.” He snapped his fingers. “You’re no longer married to her and have no right to insist on proper medical treatment.”
Dylan seriously thought about putting some nasty creases in the attorney’s silk tie. “Believe me, if I thought Alex needed a specialist I would have insisted on one even if I had to drive to the doctor’s home and drag him out of bed. If the ER doctor thought she needed to be seen by one he would have asked for a consult. Since he went to medical school and I didn’t, I deferred to his experience.” He flashed a wolfish smile.
Will wasn’t amused. “Amazing you were the one to make all these decisions for her.”
“Yeah, isn’t it? It seems I was still listed as next of kin on her hospital records. Look, if there had been a chance she was in
medical danger I wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the hospital even if I had to handcuff her to the bed.”
“So why are you standing here instead of being out there trying to find who hurt Alex?” Janet demanded.
“I’m actually going into the station from here to see what I can find out. Alex wanted to come in this morning, so we compromised that I’ll pick her up and take her home after a couple of hours.”
“I’m not due in court today. I can run Alex home when she’s ready.” Will displayed a take-charge manner few dared to battle.
“I’ll pick her up when she’s ready,” Dylan said softly, with a finality that couldn’t be missed. He started back down the hall.
Alex was seated at her desk, going through her calendar in her computer, when Will walked in and took the chair opposite her desk.
“Seriously, Alex, are you sure you should be in today?” he asked, trying not to stare at her face.
“It only hurts when I laugh,” she quipped.
Will and Janet exchanged a look.
“What?” Alex didn’t miss their silent exchange.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. He glanced up at Janet, who hovered by Alex’s desk. “Is there anything time-sensitive Alex needs to worry about?”
“Will, I can speak for myself,” Alex protested with a laugh.
“Just humor me,” he said. “Is there?”
“No,” Janet said promptly. “Alex had planned to take her vacation at the end of this month, so she was making sure she had everything in order.”
Alex looked up with surprise. “I’d planned a vacation?”
“You’re booked for a two-week Caribbean cruise,” her assistant told her. “I made the reservations for you about six months ago.”
Alex stared at her desk. She was booked for a vacation she didn’t recall setting up. But then, why would she remember it when she still couldn’t remember her divorce?
She’d thought staying here for just a couple of hours would answer at least a fraction of her questions. Now she could see she was wrong.
Chapter 3
Memories After Midnight Page 4