Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

by Melinda Curtis

  “Miller Drive. We’re on it now?”

  “Yeah, an old gravel roadway that’s been around for decades. Lots of farms out here and they still use it to haul hay, grain, whatever with their tractors.”

  Rann took in the scenery. “She would have known right away she’d taken the wrong turn. This looks nothing like the Interstate.”

  “Yep, especially when she came to the curve up ahead.”

  “I see it now. Man, that’s some bend in the road.”

  “Slow down now, the curve twists and bows. You keep your eyes on the road and I’ll look for skids, tire tracks.”

  A block or two down the bend, Rook let out a bark, and another and another.

  Tom snuck a quick glance into the back seat. “Maybe he has to do his duty.”

  “Don’t think so. He took care of that in the field next to the station.

  “Woof! Woof!”

  “What’s the matter, Rook?”

  The lab clawed at the window, his yelps ear-piercing in the car.

  “Wait!” Tom looked over the steering wheel to Rann’s side of the road. “Back it up a little.”

  Rann hit the brakes and put the vehicle in reverse. “Did you see something?”

  “Not sure. Let’s stop, get out and take a look.”

  Together, they ambled toward the peak of the curve and stopped near the edge. “Those look like tire tracks to me from several vehicles, and they’re deep.”

  Paralytic terror seized Rann. He had to look over the bank, but didn’t know if he could. Rook bounded down the cliff, sniffing the ground like a blue tick hound. He sprinted back to Rann, let out a series of yowls and fled down the bank again.

  “Oh, God, he’s picked up her scent.”

  “Are you sure? There’s no car down there?”

  He felt it in his gut. “Rook’s never wrong. How deep is that water?”

  “I guarantee you; she’s not in the water.”

  “How do you know?”

  Eyebrows low on his brow, Tom turned to him. “The report said she was driving a Denali. There’s two feet of water in that man-made pond and that’s in the spring. Right now; my guess is we’re talking eighteen inches max. Even if the car ended up on its roof or its side, we’d see it.”

  Sick. He was going to be sick. Dropping into a squat, Rann looked up at him. “Where is she? What happened to her?”

  Tom joined him on the ground. “You asking for my opinion?”

  “Yes, give it your best shot.”

  “Wish I could give you something to hang your hat on, son, but I can’t. Four young women have gone missing along the Interstate in the last ten years. All college students, heading home during break. They never made it.”

  “They vanished into thin air?”

  Tom looked at the sky. “Never heard from again.”

  “Nothing, no bodies, no cars?”

  “Oh, the vehicles turned up all right, months later, just like I suspect your Denali will. One they found in Nebraska, one in Missouri.”

  He clutched his head. “No…no…no.”

  With a hand on his shoulder, Tom almost whispered the words. “I’m sorry. I called because I wanted to tell you in person. I don’t want you chasing your tail for years, or see the back of a woman’s head in a crowd and think it’s her. I want you to get on with your life.”

  “I have no life now.”

  “You do, son. You can’t see through all the ugliness right now but one day you will. Time will help you forget.”

  “Forget? No, never. Season is-is unforgettable.”

  “Come on.” Tom helped him to his feet and held out his hand. “Let me drive back to the station.”

  They said goodbye an hour later. Tom wished him well and promised to keep his eyes and ears open.

  Rann turned toward Chicago that afternoon. Somewhere along the way, he did the hardest thing he’d ever do in his life…he called Duna.

  Chapter 20

  After bad luck comes good fortune.

  She awakened to the drone of beeping. If only she could reach inside her head and sweep out the cobwebs. White, sterile walls and matching ceiling greeted her, and utter quiet.

  Footsteps shuffled into the room. The woman’s voice soothed her. “You’re awake?”

  She tried to answer but her throat wouldn’t cooperate. Had she swallowed a bucket of sand?

  “Don’t try to talk too much, Madison. We just removed the tracheotomy tube yesterday.”

  Madison?

  “Can you nod or shake your head?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, that’s a good sign.”

  “I’m Kelli, one of your nurses. You’re at Mercy Medical Center. Do you remember the accident?”

  Accident? Tentacles of pain shot through her head, neck and face, resulting in a feeble headshake.

  “That’s okay. Most important thing is to get you well again.”

  “How long?” she rasped.

  “How long have you been here?”

  She nodded again.

  “Six weeks under heavy sedation. We knew nothing about you when you came in. A man brought you to ER and then disappeared. We think he must have found you somewhere and wanted to remain anonymous.” The woman patted her hand. “You arrived without identification, no purse, no phone. The staff was so busy in the next twenty-four hours trying to bring you back, who you were got lost in the mayhem. Minutes before we were about to call the police, the newspapers, your uncle showed up.”

  My uncle?

  “That’s about all I can tell you, legally, that is. Doctor Handler has been following your case. He was in charge of the ER the night you came in and should be here any minute. He’ll fill you in on your medical condition, the surgeries, and future prognosis.”

  Did she say surgeries…as in plural?

  “Oh, one more thing. Your uncle is quite anxious to see you. Can’t say I blame him. He’s been here several times but calls daily to see if you’ve come around. Do you want me to call him, tell him he can come for a visit now?”

  The room went into a virtual tailspin when she gave a vigorous shake of her head.

  Placing her arm around her shoulders, the woman lifted her up. “No worries. I’ll tell him you’re not up to it yet. Do you think you can suck on ice chips? The sooner we get you on oral fluids, the sooner the IVs go bye-bye.”

  She took a few into her mouth and then put her finger in the air.

  “Good. I have to see to another patient now but I’ll stop in again after Dr. Handler’s done checking you over.”

  When the tread of footfalls faded, she went over their conversation. Why couldn’t she remember the accident the woman mentioned? Or that she had an uncle? That didn’t seem right. She should know her uncle’s name. Her brain might be scrambled but why did her body instinctively roil against the thought of seeing him? Worse, why didn’t she recognize her own name?

  She’d never felt so helpless in her life. No, wait, maybe she had because she couldn’t remember her life. Her hand went to her face. She fingered the soft material. Gauze? Wrapped around the entire width and length of her head, notwithstanding the eye holes and breathing vents?

  Footsteps again, heavier with longer strides. She turned her head toward the sound. An elderly man, mid sixties, dressed in blue scrubs pulled a chair up to the bed. The words grandfather type rang in her brain. The slightly stooped shoulders, silver hair, black glasses and protective smile gave him away.

  “Well, hello there.”

  “Hey.” The ice chips must have helped. It didn’t hurt to talk as much now.

  “You’ve been on quite a journey.”

  “Disneyland, I hear.”

  He pinched his lips together, but creases appeared in the corners of his eyes from a stifled grin. “I bet you have lots of questions. Hope I can answer most of them.”

  “Me too.”

  “The nurse told you about the night you came to the emergency room?”

  She nodded.

>   “I was on duty, had a chance to ask the man who brought you in if he knew what happened to you.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I’ve been over that moment a hundred times in my mind. Let’s see…average height, weight, brown hair, nothing remarkable about his features except for the eyes. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes.”

  “What look?”

  “Fear, number one, and genuine concern. Both kind of sucked the air from the room, know what I mean?”

  She looked away. The man’s description didn’t help her.

  “Do you have any idea who he might have been?”

  “No.”

  “How about the accident, recall anything?”

  A shake of her head.

  “That’s all right. These things take time after what you’ve been through. Give it a few days.”

  Her mind drifted. Darkness surrounded her like a tomb, a cold, desolate place where the air was thinner than tissue paper. And the pain, oh, God, the pain.

  “Madison?”

  A hand touched her arm. “Can you hear me okay?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I called your name twice but you didn’t turn toward my voice.”

  What did he want her to say? She didn’t turn because the name meant nothing to her. She might be loony but not hard of hearing. She’d heard every word both Kelli and Dr. Handler had said.

  “That is your name, right?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “You don’t remember that either?”

  “Guess not. My uncle told Kelli my name is Madison.”

  “Madison Ames. Do you remember your uncle, or how about other members of your family?”

  The blood swished through her brain like a roaring tidal wave. “I can’t think anymore.”

  “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  She clutched his arm. “No! I mean, don’t leave yet. Kelli said you’d tell me about my condition, the surgeries and where we go from here.”

  “You sure you’re up to this?”

  “I need to know. Maybe something will kick in, register. Right now, there’s this giant puzzle in my head with all the pieces in freefall.” She hoped he couldn’t see her tears through the face turban or whatever outlandish dressing covered her face. “Is that normal do you think?”

  “From my experience, it does happen, but I’m a trauma surgeon, or was for thirty-five years. I still do some surgery but mostly I cover the ER on weekends.” The comforting smile walked forth again. “I don’t know much about neurology but if your memory doesn’t return in a few days, we’ll have that checked out.”

  “Okay.” She released a sigh. “What’s with the face veil?”

  “Four reconstructive surgeries, one every week. We have some of the best plastic surgeons in Des Moines—“

  “Isn’t that in Iowa?”

  “For as long as I can remember yes. Do you think you live around here?”

  “I’m gonna say no to that, but if you ask why, I’m gonna say raw gut instinct. Iowa? Des Moines? No, that doesn’t seem right.”

  “Dr. Dunlap is the one who did the surgery on your face. We didn’t have much to go on when it came to replication, but he’s darn good at forensic reconstruction.”

  “He guessed?”

  “Not entirely. Bone structure helps but he had very little to work with there. He’ll be in to see you in the morning. How about I let him explain?”

  “You said you still do some surgery. Did you work on me?”

  He referred to a piece of paper on his clipboard. “Yep, straightened a broken nose so you could breathe, set a fractured jaw and a fractured pelvis, harnessed the collarbones on both sides, and wrapped four cracked ribs.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “Car accident. Your face bore the brunt. I’m still trying to figure out why the air bag didn’t deploy. You were wearing a seatbelt though.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’ve seen enough injuries in the emergency room to last a life time. Based on the degree and severity of injuries to your face, if you weren’t belted in, you wouldn’t have made it. Yet….”

  “Yet?”

  “Your uncle dismisses my theory, claims you don’t drive. He said you must have been walking when you were hit.”

  “Is that possible?”

  ”Not in my best medical opinion. If you were walking, whether hit from the front or behind, your body would have absorbed more of the impact.”

  She looked down and rubbed the fingers of her left hand. Why can’t I remember?

  “How about we talk about this another time? For now, you need rest, and lots of it.”

  “You will come back for a visit again, won’t you?”

  “You’re not going to get rid of me that easy; been here every day to check on you.” He came to his feet. “Anything else I can do tonight? Do you want me to up the pain medication or are you comfortable?”

  “No, I don’t want more. I need to think.” She felt her brow scrunch under the gauze. “You said tonight. It’s not daylight?”

  He glanced down at his watch. “Ten p.m.”

  “Will you tell the nurses to leave the lights on in my room?”

  “All night, even the overhead light?”

  “Maybe not all of them but I don’t want to be left in the dark again.”

  “Again?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said again, you didn’t want to be left in the dark again.”

  “Yeah, that’s one of thing things I need to sort out. You will tell them? I mean you’re a doctor; you could write an order, right?”

  “I’ll stop at the desk and speak with the lead nurse, make sure she puts a note on the door, Lights Out Not Allowed, how’s that?”

  “Good, thank you.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Night Dr. Handler.”

  Chapter 21

  Bury me on my feet. I have spent my entire life on my knees.

  Madison tried sleeping on her left side and then her right. She couldn’t find a comfortable position, not even on her back. Kelli had dispensed her pain medication at midnight and here she was, restless as leaves in a windstorm.

  Dr. Handler’s eyes loomed before her. Not his eyes per se, but the spark of challenge in the depths. He seemed to be searching for information or maybe he intended to send her down a path of figuring out what happened and why. Whatever his goal, it had worked.

  Shutting down one’s brain didn’t come with push-buttons or navigational devices. Especially at night when every deed, every thought seemed multiplied times ten. The man’s theory about car accident versus pedestrian stroll made sense. If the semi-buried flotsam in her head would agree to make friends, she could confirm it.

  Would a person hear the sound of breaking glass, the sickening crunch of metal if they were walking? How about the smell of gas or the acrid scent of smoke? She’d be incapacitated or dead the moment of impact, wouldn’t smell or hear a thing. And she did remember…the glass, the twisted metal, the pain. Why would her uncle say she wasn’t driving but walking down a highway? Think…think. If he wasn’t her uncle, who the hell was he?

  She pushed the nurse help button and Kelli appeared a short time later. “Can’t sleep?”

  “One would think I’d be slept out by now.”

  She chuckled. “Want something to help you along?”

  “That would be nice.”

  With a wink, she spun on her heels and left, returning in less than five minutes with two little white pills. She handed her the glass of water sitting on her tray. “This should do it.”

  Boy did it do it. Ten minutes later, her body reacted with the loose-limbed agility of a cougar. Her mind began to…. Wait. Who let the cougar into her head? Stop, Madison, or whatever the hell your name is. Stop thinking, just stop! Sapphire eyes, brilliant and luminous, surfaced. Not the cougar’s but whose? A man was slumped against a wall, his dreamy gaze meant only for her. He
walked toward her. ‘I want you, girl.’ Girl? No, he hadn’t called her girl. Her name, what was her name?

  ~*~

  While spooning oatmeal into her mouth the next morning, Dr. Handler walked in, picked up her chart and then smiled. “I see Dr. Dunlap dropped by.”

  “Yes, just left.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “The burka comes off in a day or two.”

  This time, the smile came with a half-snort. “Scared?”

  “A little, curious more than anything, I guess. I’m wondering if I’ll recognize anything about her.”

  “Her is still you, no matter what she looks like.”

  “What if I don’t like her nose, her cheekbones?”

  “Oh, I think you will. Dr. Dunlap is exceptionally good at what he does. His expression turned serious. ”He didn’t say what day?”

  “No, but maybe you could check with him. I’d like you to be here.”

  “I’d like to be here too but I might have a conflict.”

  She returned the spoon to her tray. “Of course. I shouldn’t have asked knowing how busy you must be.”

  “It’s not a medical scheduling problem, more of a life scheduling problem.”

  “Did something happen to one of your family members?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m retiring this week, hanging up my scalpels.”

  She couldn’t explain why her heart dropped.

  “Tell you what, I’ll work around it.”

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  A dismissive hand waved. “It’s not a problem. Mind if I sit down?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’m hoping we can stay in touch after I leave.”

  The fallen heart strolled back into normal position, and thudded. “Why?”

  He clicked his tongue against the side of his mouth. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say you remind me of someone.”

  “I have nothing but time. I mean, look around Doc, it’s not as if I’m staying at Chucky Cheese and have my pick of arcade games.”

  “You ever been to Chucky Cheese?”

  Her forehead furrowed beneath the dressings. “Must have been at one time.” She wagged a finger at him. “You’re trying to change the subject, but I’m still waiting on that story.”