Stolen Memories

The security guard had pimples and a patchy beard. He wasn’t much more than a kid with a walkie-talkie and a flashlight, and he took two steps back at Zach’s approach. “Umm. Got here as fast as I could when I got the call, but the guy had already vanished. We checked the back stairwell, and he’s not there, either.” The kid wrung his hands and looked toward the ceiling tiles. “I guess he’s long gone.”

“When did you get the call?”

Zach could almost see him calculating the time as he stared at his watch through narrowed eyes. “I guess about twenty minutes ago?”

He let out a short breath, jamming his hands onto his hips. “Can you be more specific?”

The kid shrugged and shook his head.

“You can go.” Zach dismissed the guard but couldn’t seem to take the single step required to enter Julie’s room. Straightening his shoulders, he tried to prepare himself for whatever he might see. Brad wouldn’t have been so calm on the phone if she’d been severely injured. But he’d said she needed Zach.

It had at once exhilarated and terrified him.

He liked being needed. He liked taking care of people who couldn’t take care of themselves. Except Julie was an unknown. Nothing about her or her situation was certain or easy.

And he couldn’t stay away from her.

He strolled across the room, his shoes silent against the tile. She was so small beneath the blanket, her feet not even close to reaching the end of the mattress. The bed was angled so she was partially sitting up, but her eyes were closed, as though she was fast asleep. Maybe he should go. Let her get some real rest after another traumatic event.

But she’d asked for him.

At her side he rested a hand on her arm. She was so pale. Her face and lips were nearly white, the only real color a ring of yellow already materializing at her throat and the still purple bruises.

Her good eye fluttered open, and her swollen one even managed a slit through which he could make out a matching brown iris. The corners of her lips shifted into a low-wattage smile. “You came.”

“The nurse said you needed me.”

Her eyes drifted closed again, and she bit both her top and bottom lips until they disappeared. “I did—do.”

“All right. I’m here.” He brushed a strand of hair out of her eye, but jerked his hand back immediately. That was way more than professional, and he couldn’t afford to be anything but with a victim. He had to rein in any wayward feelings and get down to business. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“I must have seen or done something pretty incredible.”

He lifted his eyebrows, but she continued without any other prodding.

“He still wants me dead.”

She spoke with such certainty and calm, yet every muscle in his body tensed, every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. She was in danger. And it was his mistake. If he hadn’t suggested the newspaper article, her attacker might still believe his work was done.

He swallowed the guilt that rose in his throat. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.” Every syllable threatened to choke him, each one harder than the last.

Her eyebrows rose, the top of her nose wrinkling as she stared at him. “Funny. You don’t look much like the guy who was in here before.”

“You know what I mean. I promised I’d take care of you. And instead I inadvertently led that guy right to you.”

She shook her head, shifting her arm out from under his hold, and his fingers immediately missed the absence of her warmth. Until she slipped her hand into his and squeezed. A breathy sigh escaped, her shoulders relaxing into the pillow. “It wasn’t in the paper. Tabby didn’t say where I was.” With the lift of her sprained wrist and the wave of a single finger, she halted his intended interruption. “If he was watching the paper, he would’ve noticed there wasn’t a story about me. About my body being found. He knew I was alive. And he would have found me eventually.”

His heart thudded twice and then returned to a normal rhythm. She was absolutely right. But the guilt still poked and prodded his insides, leaving him sore, as if he’d taken a hockey puck to the gut.

“And he’ll come looking for me again.”

She was so matter-of-fact about it that he choked on his own breath, coughing and sputtering while she stared at him out of one eye. Of course, she was right. Someone certainly wanted her dead, so why didn’t she look more scared?

The fingers in his grip began a slow tremor, quaking even more with every rise and fall of her chest. This was her fear in physical form. Her face showed no sign, but her hand trembled. While wearing a facade of confidence, she revealed the truth only to him. She was terrified.

And he had to scare her even more.

Whoever they were dealing with had disappeared. Right along with a baby she’d been carrying.

“You’re not in this alone.” The words were out before they were even fully formed in his mind, and he backed them up with a gentle smile.

She turned her head away to face the closed blinds over a window that looked out on the parking lot. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. But then she whispered so softly that he had to bend all the way over to hear her words.

“What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I deserved this?”

What was going on inside that barren mind of hers? Her forgotten memories provided a breeding ground for fear to fester. With no truth to combat the lies, they easily stole her peace. She needed someone to remind her that she was a good woman with a kind heart.

He could do that. He wanted to do that.

Letting go of her hand, he walked around the end of the bed until he could squat so his face was right in her line of vision.

“Look at me, Julie.”

One lid slowly lifted, her pupil dilating until it seemed to blend with the darker circles in the outer rings of her eye.

“First of all, no one deserves something like this. No one. Do you understand me?”

She nodded.

“Second, you’re not a criminal. No matter what you can’t remember, the core of your heart, the person you are deep down, is still there.”

She nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip, her eyebrows pulling together to make three little lines above her nose. “How can you be so sure?”

“I see it in the way you treat people and the way you reach for my hand when you need something stable.” She let out a little laugh, half embarrassment and half uncertainty. “You trust me, and I trust you. Criminals don’t trust cops.” Then he added a little wink. “Plus, I ran your fingerprints. If you’d committed a crime anywhere in the state of Minnesota, I’d know about it.”

Her laugh this time was hearty if a bit hoarse. “Thank you.”

“I’m just sorry that he found you. But I swear, I won’t let it happen again. We’ll find him and you’ll be safe.”

He liked being right at her level as emotions flickered in her eye, first relief, then uncertainty and finally resignation. She didn’t have a choice but to see this through. But maybe knowing she wasn’t facing it alone helped her to find some strength.

He stood, and her eye grew wide. “You’re not leaving, are you?” The pitch of her voice rose, her hand clenched into a fist around the brace and bandage between her thumb and forefinger.

“I was just going to grab a chair. My legs will fall asleep if I stay in that position too long. All right?”

A chagrined smile fell into place as she nodded. But her grin was immediately broken by a yawn that cracked her jaw.

As he carried the chair from the corner, the urge to ask her about the baby he’d seen in the security video battled with the voice telling him that she needed rest. If she heard about a missing baby, she wasn’t going to get a minute of sleep. He needed her mind fresh and prepared to remember anything that might surface when the U.S. Marshals arrived.

Still the voice that demanded to know the whereabouts of the missing child poked at the back of his mind.

He didn’t have to cannonball into the question. He could dip a toe in. He could just check the temperature.

Sitting down, he was almost directly on her level again. Her eyelid had drooped, the lines of tension on her face vanished in the peace near sleep.

“Julie?”

“Hmm?” The sound was little more than a hum in the back of her throat, her eyelashes barely fluttering against pale cheeks. For the first time, he noticed a path of freckles running across her nose. They were close together on her nose but turned sparse as they reached her cheeks. She embodied both the innocence of youth and the fear that was very adult. And it twisted into his stomach.

“I got a call today from a marshal, who is interested in your case. She wants to talk with you tomorrow.”

Her brows furrowed, eyes still closed. “About what?” Her tongue sounded thick, like every word was a fight to get out.

He pressed his finger and thumb around his mouth, scraping at the dark shadow growing there. “I’m not sure exactly. She wonders if you might be able to recognize someone that she’s been investigating. I suppose she wants to know everything you know.”

“Ha.” There was genuine humor in her shallow laugh. “That’s not much these days.”

A smile that matched hers fell into place for just a moment. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to just laugh with her? But it would do neither of them any good so long as someone was after her and a baby was missing. “Julie, do you remember anything else about that night?”

“Like what?”

He let out a slow breath, praying for the words that would neither frighten nor mislead. “Were you alone that night? Was there anyone else with you?”

The shallow rise and fall of her chest stopped for a long heartbeat. “I can’t remember anything.” And then just before her breaths turned deep with sleep, she sighed. “Yet.”

FOUR

Zach slammed his car door behind him, hustling between parked vehicles toward the hospital doors. Checking his watch, he pulled on his jacket as he reached the main entrance. The deserted main entrance. He was supposed to meet the marshals there at ten-thirty. He’d been running a little late, but maybe they had been, too.

Maybe they wouldn’t show at all.

Was it wrong that he’d been hoping for that all morning? He just couldn’t shake the suspicion that this interview wasn’t best for Julie. He was almost certain it would be useless for Serena Summers and her partner.

Just as he straightened his tie and ducked his head inside to make sure they weren’t waiting for him there, a nondescript navy blue sedan pulled into the parking lot. It angled into the nearest parallel lines before both the driver’s-side and passenger doors popped open.

A tall guy with dark, wind-tossed hair stepped out from behind the wheel. He wore a dark gray suit and a pressed white shirt, his shoulders pushing at the seams of his coat and not because he was excessively brawny. He had a sturdy build, and he walked with his chin high and back straight. That had to be McCall. Serena had said she was bringing her partner with her.

Serena—all graceful movements and willowy lines—met up with McCall at the front of the car. She stepped in front of him when the passage was too narrow for them to walk side by side, and the big guy’s eyes never left her form. It wasn’t an outright assessment of his partner, but there was something in his eyes that revealed a strong emotion between them. Maybe it was just respect.

Maybe not.

Zach stepped from beneath the cement overhang to greet them. Reaching out to shake the thin woman’s hand, he said, “Marshal Summers?”

She had a firm grip and an easy smile. “Call me Serena.” Nodding her head, she indicated the man at her side. “This is my partner, Josh McCall.”

McCall’s shake was even tighter than Serena’s had been, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Zach gave back as good as he got, and a flicker of admiration appeared in the other man’s eyes, if only for a second.

“Zach Jones, Minneapolis P.D.”

“Good to meet you.” Josh let go and put his hand into his pocket, hunching his shoulders against the brisk early spring wind.

Serena’s eyes shifted toward the sliding glass door, but Zach didn’t move to lead them inside to his witness. To his Julie. First, he had questions that required answers. And the hospital waiting room wasn’t the place to find any kind of privacy.

“I know you’re eager to talk with Julie, but you should know that she doesn’t have any memory of the night she was attacked.”

Josh and Serena shared a quick look, their eyes meeting in a flash and tearing apart just as quickly. Josh cleared his throat, but it was Serena who spoke. “None at all?”

Shaking his head, he frowned. “As of two o’clock this morning, she can’t remember a thing. Including that she was carrying a baby the night that she was attacked. And I haven’t told her about that yet.”

Two sets of eyebrows rose in unison before Josh responded. “You know that’ll have to come up today, right?”

A gust of wind picked up Serena’s long ponytail, whipping it back and forth over her shoulder. She wrestled it back into place with her free hand, the other clutching a brown folder to her chest.

Shivers ran down Zach’s arms, the cold stealing its way to his skin, joining the doubts bombarding his mind. He wanted to find the missing baby just like the marshals, but would telling Julie about the child really do anyone any good? He battled a vision of her terrified features when she learned what he’d seen in the video. She’d be horrified to discover that a baby had gone missing from her care. That kind of emotional trauma could just be a setback on her road to healing—and to ultimately uncovering what really happened that night.

Whether Zach’s doubts played across his face or she was a pro at reading people, Serena leaned toward him. Her movement was barely a few inches, but it caught and held his attention. “I bet you’ve become pretty close to your witness.” Her voice was low and a little husky. “We don’t want to scare her, but we’re dealing with something bigger than one missing child.”

He’d figured as much.

Josh didn’t bother changing his body language, his stance firm and unmoving. “We just need to ask her a few questions. Your witness—”

“She’s a victim.” At Zach’s interruption, Josh’s chin snapped up, so Zach continued, “She’s not just the only witness, she was beaten to within an inch of her life. She can’t recall her name or where she lives or who her family is.” His words picked up speed as his pulse did the same. “As if one attack wasn’t enough, someone snuck into her hospital room last night and tried to kill her again.”

Almost certainly Serena’s training and experience were the only things keeping her jaw from flapping open at his declaration. Her eyes were bright with the revelation of the second attack, and she held her packet even tighter below her chin. “Is she all right?”

“She’ll be okay. The doctor said there was no permanent damage. But I hope you can see why I’m hesitant to add to her emotional strain, especially knowing that she hasn’t been able to remember anything, and this is probably all a dead end.”

Josh caught Serena’s gaze yet again, his eyebrows pinching together as he pressed his hands deeper into his pockets. “So she saw someone last night?”

“Ye-es.” Zach dragged the word out, not quite sure where Josh was going with his line of questions.

“So she could identify him?”

“Yes. She could probably pick him out of a lineup or identify a mug shot.”

Serena’s smile dipped, turning grim as her brown eyes squinted directly at him. She had to be picking up on his hesitation. As silence hung over their small group, she rubbed her chin and glanced at the ground.

Josh watched her closely, his stance alert, but he held back, letting her take the lead, despite a nearly palpable tension radiating from him.

“Zach, it’s imperative that we talk with your witness. We have to know as much information as she can give us. There are lives on the line—babies are disappearing.”

Babies.

His gut clenched. Hard. This was bigger than the missing baby he was already looking for. And he couldn’t look himself in the mirror if he didn’t do everything in his power to help those kids.

With his hands on his hips, he asked, “What’s going on?”

The marshals glanced at each other again, and Josh gave a quick nod before speaking. “Serena and I have been keeping tabs on a man named Don Saunders.”

Josh paused, as though waiting for any reaction from Zach. “Never heard of him.”

“Don was arrested in connection to a murder and was being transported for questioning in police custody near Saint Louis, but a couple of his buddies staged a car accident, and he escaped.”

Zach sucked in a harsh breath. Letting a suspect escape could shatter an officer’s confidence. Being a cop was hard enough when everything was going right. But a man could drive himself crazy wondering what he could have done differently.

Poor guy.

But what did this have to do with Julie and missing babies?

Serena seemed to be able to read his mind, answering the question before he could ask it. “Other marshals tracked Don down in Denver, where they found him about to board a plane with an unidentified child. We still haven’t been able to locate the baby’s parents or figure out where she came from.

“Don escaped again before we could figure out what was going on, but we were able to locate Sam Wilson, one of the guys who helped to set up the last break. At first he was pretty closemouthed, but after a few weeks in custody, he folded like a hot dog bun, revealing that he’d been working with a man named Frank Adams to stage the car accident. According to Sam, Frank has a place pretty close to this area, although we don’t know exactly where.”

Like dominoes tumbling down in a row, the pieces of the story all fell into place. Zach nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest to keep the edges of his jacket from whipping around in the breeze. “So you figure that a missing baby near Frank’s known hideout might have a connection to this Don Saunders.” He didn’t bother phrasing it as a question, and Serena’s slow nod confirmed his assessment of the situation.

“We’re running out of leads to follow up on.” Josh tugged at his earlobe, hunching his shoulders. “This is the best tip we’ve got.”

Zach couldn’t stop a humorless chuckle from escaping. “A woman who doesn’t know her own name is your best lead?”

With mirrored smiles, Josh and Serena nodded. “It may be a long shot, but if Julie can identify Frank in any way, then we can confirm he is—or at least was recently—in the area. And then we know who we’re looking for.”

All right. There was no way to protect Julie from this questioning. And when she knew the truth about the missing child, she’d pummel her own mind to unearth the details and solve the disappearance.

As he led the marshals into the busy hospital, Zach shot up a quick prayer that this meeting would lead to the location of the missing baby and not derail any progress Julie had made thus far.

* * *

Julie leaned against her bed, the muscles in her legs trembling after the short walk across the room. She’d barely splashed water on her face, combed her new hairstyle and checked out the swelling around her eye before her strength had vanished. But she’d pushed herself to get back across the room. No way did she want the nurse—or Zach—finding her in a heap on the bathroom floor.

“Julie?”

She yanked the belt of her robe tighter at her waist before looking up into Zach’s face. But he wasn’t alone. Grabbing the lapels, she pulled them together beneath her chin, never taking her gaze off the tall man and slender woman standing just behind Zach.

He hustled across the room, cupping her elbow and helping her slide back onto her bed, her slippered feet dangling just above the floor.

“Are you all right? You look really pale.” His grip on her arm loosened, but he didn’t back away.

She nodded slowly. “I’m okay.” Her gaze traveled back to the couple still in the doorway. Her questions must have shown on her face, as Zach didn’t wait for her to ask them before answering.

“These are the U.S. Marshals I told you about last night.” A quick glance over his shoulder had the woman walking quickly across the room, her hand outstretched.

“Serena Summers.” Her grip was gentle around Julie’s brace, but her smile didn’t quite wrinkle the fine lines at the edge of her eyes. “And this is my partner, Josh McCall.”

The man strode toward them, his gaze even and detached. No, that wasn’t quite right. He was engaged but calm, a shield of professionalism blocking his true emotions.

Julie wrapped her arms around her middle. Maybe she could just crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head. Whatever they wanted with her, she couldn’t give it to them. It certainly would require remembering more than that her face didn’t usually look like it had been used as a punching bag.

But that was all she had at the moment.

And only God knew how much longer it would be that way. The doctor had said he didn’t think it was a permanent condition, but he couldn’t pinpoint when her memory would return.

Until then she wouldn’t be much help to anyone.

Zach dropped his hand, and she immediately missed the warmth. “The marshals think that you might have come into contact with someone that they’re searching for.”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Do you think the man you’re looking for is the one who attacked me? I can’t remember anything from before that night.”

“Detective Jones filled us in on your condition. I’m so sorry. But we hope you might be able to help us.”

How was she supposed to respond to that? She was sorry about it, too. It didn’t change the reality.

“We’d appreciate it if you’d take a look at a headshot to see if you recognize him.” Serena snapped the elastic tie from around her file and flipped through the pages within.

Julie looked at Zach, who nodded slowly, his eyes bright with hope and encouragement. “All right. I’ll try.”

Serena held out a five-by-seven image, the man in the picture standing against the evenly spaced height lines of a police wall, a black plaque at his chest announcing his name as Adams, Frank. His hair was dark and ruffled, maybe beginning to gray at the temples. He had narrow-set eyes that looked almost black, but it could have been just a shadow. The bridge of his nose zigged and zagged, clearly broken at least twice. Thin lips were nearly hidden behind a five o’clock shadow, which could do nothing to camouflage the pink scar that slashed across his chin. It ran from the corner of his mouth toward the center of his jaw, perhaps a reminder of a fight gone terribly wrong.

She squinted and leaned forward, bringing the image closer to her face.

Did she remember those features? Was the scar or crooked nose familiar?

Waiting for the familiar sense of recognition to flood her mind, she didn’t dare shift her gaze away.

But it never came.

Instead, a sinking sensation carried her stomach to her toes and she pressed her hand against the recently vacated spot. Looking up into Zach’s tense features, she shook her head. “If I’ve ever seen him before, I don’t remember.” Handing the picture back to Serena, she continued, “I’m sorry. His face doesn’t ring any bells.”

The marshal tucked the image back into her folder, her eyebrows pinched together. She glanced at her partner, who crossed his arms over his chest, then seemed to think better of his stance, instead letting his hands drop to his sides and find their way into his pockets.

“What about the guy who attacked you here in the hospital last night? Could it have been him?” Zach slipped a hand into hers, squeezing her fingers until she met his gaze.

She closed her eyes, reliving that horrifying moment when she’d thought she’d never be able to breathe again. “No.” Zach offered a reassuring squeeze in her pause, and she ran her free hand over her butchered locks very slowly. “The man last night had light hair, and his eyes weren’t as dark.”