Virtually Timeless

by Casi McLean

  He lifted BW’s wrist and felt her pulse, then brushed a stray clump of hair from her eye. “Whatever happened to this woman, originally, likely traumatized her. We have no idea how long she wandered in the forest. Her emaciated state tells me far too long.” He stroked his stubbles. “How she survived the elements in her condition with no food or clean water is a miracle.”

  “Why in the world was she out there?” Micah shook her head.

  “That’s the million-dollar question. My guess is, for whatever reason, she was stranded somewhere along the Appalachian Trail. I’ve trudged through that area before, and unless you’re a seasoned hiker, the path alone can be brutal.” He lifted BW’s wrist. “Look at her arm. Until we found her, this girl hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks. She was acutely dehydrated, malnourished, and traumatized. Add the blood loss… the only chance she had for survival was an induced coma.”

  Micah dug into her bag and pulled out a drawing pad.

  He frowned. “I hope you can give us some kind of a clue as to who she is.”

  When Micah tugged on the back of a chair, the feet scraped across the floor. “Sorry.” She sat and positioned herself until she found a vantage point that suited her. “So, you have no idea why she has such a severe memory loss?”

  “I have a diagnosis. I’m convinced she’s suffering from Korsakoff’s Syndrome, and I’ve treated her for thiamine loss and vitamin-deficiency. But I can’t tell if the treatment worked until I talk to her.”

  Micah penciled across a blank paper canvas and, within minutes, the image of BW began to surface. “Why can’t you just wake her up for a while?”

  “I would, but she’s almost four days post-op and yet her fever persists. I’ve tested her for sepsis and myriad other infections with negative results. And tried several antibiotics, but until her fever breaks, she’s too weak to wake up from the coma.”

  Micah continued to draw as she carried on the conversation, challenging Noah about every detail. “I take it your sister hasn’t had any luck identifying her.”

  “She flew to Washington D.C. yesterday to take care of some business and plans on meeting with Julie this morning.”

  “Good. Julie is a terrific Investigative Reporter. I have no doubt the two of them will find some answers.” Tilting her head, she inspected her drawing then darkened the shadows on the portrait, giving it a three-dimensional effect.

  “Syd believes she and Jules together will find something concrete.” Noah strolled behind Micah and admired her talent. “Wow. You captured something about her that’s almost…disturbing.” How had he not seen that subtle tension in her features? Beyond that, the picture displayed what BW would look like without malnutrition. He returned his focus to Micah. “Remarkable.”

  “Thanks. This case is so unusual. I’m happy to help any way I can. Perhaps all four of us can brainstorm.” Holding her sketch at arm’s length, she squinted and inspected her work. Then, she lowered the pad and gazed into Noah’s eyes. “I don’t suppose you could drop everything and catch a flight to D.C. for a day or two?”

  Chapter 19

  A single beam of golden sunlight spilled through a crack between the hotel’s darkening drapes and pierced Sydney’s eyelids. Squinting, she turned away then fluttered her lashes to brush away the sleep. Traveling to Washington D.C. on the spur of the moment, then spending the day with Jack Duncan took more out of her than she anticipated. After checking the time, approximately 7:30 a.m., she dragged herself from the bed and trudged toward the bathroom to get ready for her 9:00 a.m. meeting with Jules.

  Stomach churning, she recalled Noah cautioning her on multiple occasions about how airplanes could spread virulent airborne diseases through the air system. She shrugged off the possibility. In her mind, her brother was overprotective. Probably too much stress from the last two weeks. She flipped on the shower then leaned against the counter and stared at her reflection. Puffy bags bulged under her eyes, and she instinctively pressed on them as if that might help. It didn’t. Today would definitely be a make-up day.

  After standing in a hot cascade for far longer than typical, she reluctantly turned off the water and continued her morning routine. Choosing dress jeans and a winter-white sweater, she slipped into her clothes then strolled to the window and opened the drapes. The sun streamed in. Gazing downward, she watched the hustle-bustle of cars rushing back-and-forth along the highway. People dashing about their business reminded her she needed to hurry. She dug into her bag for directions to the agreed-upon spot, a bakery near Judiciary Square. After patting on some make-up, she ordered an Uber.

  The twenty-minute drive took longer than her GPS charted, but familiar with D.C. traffic, she’d allowed twice that for the trip. When she entered the shop, she took in the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and warm pastries. Again, her stomach stirred, this time growling with a queasy warning. Dear Lord, don’t let this be a bug I picked up from the flight. Coffee and a simple cheese Danish seemed benign enough, so she ordered then scanned the tables for Jules. Not seeing her friend, she chose a two-top near the window, then pulled out her phone and scrolled through her email.

  “Syd.”

  The familiar voice caught her attention, and she turned toward the source to see Jules waving enthusiastically as she waited for her order. Syd responded with a nod.

  Moments later, Jules made her way to the table with a tall cup of coffee and an egg and cheese concoction in hand. Her golden-brown hair curled over her shoulders, and she tucked the mop behind her ears, revealing the distinctive silver streak she’d had since she lost her husband. The strands glistened as if struck by a hot-white moonbeam.

  Sydney smiled and stood to greet her friend.

  Her hazel eyes glistened. “I’m starving,” Jules set her food on the table. She draped her purse over the back of the chair then peered at Syd, holding out her arms. “Come on. Bring it in.”

  Sydney complied with a heart-felt squeeze. “It’s so good to see you. How was your flight?” Returning to her seat, she slid the untouched cheese Danish to the side and sipped her coffee.

  “Longer than I prefer, but nothing unusual.” Jules sat then scooted her chair close to the table. After arranging her food at an angle to the side, she took a bite. “Mmmm.” She swallowed then took a swig of her coffee before speaking. “I just love this little bakery. Their breakfast souffle is to die for. The aroma alone could add five pounds.”

  “As if you’ve ever had to worry about your weight.” Syd grimaced. “I’m the one who gains five pounds simply by looking at food.”

  Jules took another bite and sloshed it down with more coffee. Eyeing Syd’s Danish, she raised a brow. “Then maybe you shouldn’t look at your pastry.”

  Syd edged the plate toward her friend. “Here. I’m not really hungry.”

  “Seriously? I’ve never known you to turn away baked goods. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” Syd shrugged. “Really. Take it. All I want is coffee.” She pushed her plate toward the egg souffle.

  “If you insist.” Forearms resting on the table, Jules leaned in. “Tell me more about this girl you and Noah found roaming the forest. I want to know everything from the moment you saw her. No detail is too minor to mention.”

  Scooting closer, Syd felt as if they were in some clandestine meeting, but she humored Jules, giving a play-by-play account to the best of her recollection. “That’s all we know.” She sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee. “Were you able to come up with anything?” Jules straightened her back and sat still as if deep in thought for several long seconds.

  “I did.” She took a bite of her food and stared out the window until she swallowed. “Sorry. What I found out about BW brought back memories I’ve tried to keep at bay.”

  “Oh my gosh, Jules. I’m so sorry.” Damn. A familiar emptiness washed over Sydney. A couple of years had passed since the death of Jules’s husband and child. Though Syd hadn’t lost a spouse, she knew all too well how grief con
sumed her when her parents went missing. Syd never dreamt the case would jog Jules’ memories like they apparently had. But her heart broke for her friend.

  Jules reached across the table and laid her hand on Syd’s. “I’m good. Really, I am. I’ll never forget my husband and child, but now I feel an ache inside instead of the deep, dark chasm that enveloped me. I’ve moved on, Syd.” She sat back. “I have Conner in my life now…and the boys. Please don’t feel badly about asking for my help. It’s not the first case that hit home, and it won’t be the last.”

  Syd drew in a long breath and nodded. “I know. But I just hate you had to go through all that.” She drained the rest of her coffee then shoved aside the empty cup. “So, what did you find out about BW?”

  “You were spot on about your girl. Micah Miller’s DNA match led me to a relative, a reclusive woman who turned out to be your girl’s aunt. She still hasn’t gotten over the death of her niece. BW’s real name is Jillian Andrews, a Marine turned agent who worked at the Port of Houston. Apparently, during a routine screening, she detected an anomaly while examining some containers, which resulted in the discovery of 35,000 pounds of cocaine with an estimated street value of over a billion dollars. The Feds say if placed end to end, the bricks would stretch two-and-a-half-miles.”

  “Holy crap. Are you kidding?” Syd dropped her jaw and stared. “I heard about that bust on the news. But why does her aunt think she’s dead?”

  Jules tossed her thick hair behind her back. “Jillian testified in the case against a half dozen crew members, which ultimately proved their connection to a massive Mexican drug cartel. Two days later, her husband and son were killed in a very suspicious car accident.”

  Suddenly aware of why this case reminded Jules of her husband and child’s death, Syd squeezed shut her eyes and puffed out a breath. “That’s so awful.” Raising her gaze to meet Jules’, she felt her stomach tighten. “So, what happened to BW––I mean, Jillian?”

  “The Feds immediately connected the car explosion to the drug lord then publicly announced Jillian’s remains were found in the car along with her family’s. From what I could dig up, they literally erased her past to hide her new identity.”

  Syd’s stomach lurched and she adjusted her chair to ease the sensation. “Damn. I wonder how she ended up in northwestern Connecticut.”

  Jules shrugged. “I’m not sure about that, except I’ve heard that when you’re in witness protection, you’re generally placed in the least likely area you would normally live.” She shot a glance at her watch. “Ugh. I have to go. My meeting is in a half hour, and I can’t be late.” She stood and scraped her chair across the floor. “I hope you figure out what’s wrong with Jillian. I wish I had some information to help Noah with his diagnosis.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Sorry we don’t have more time to catch up.”

  Standing, Syd gathered the paper napkin she used to wipe her lips then tossed it in a close-by garbage can. “Me, too. I can’t thank you enough, Jules.” She gave her a hug.

  “Don’t be a stranger, Sydney.” Turning, she strolled toward the door.

  “I forgot how much I missed hanging out with you. We need to talk more often.”

  “Agreed. Hey, be careful. Jillian has some powerful enemies, and you don’t want to be in their crosshairs.”

  Until that moment, the thought hadn’t occurred to Syd. She flashed on the barrage of gunfire the night they found Jillian. A cold shiver crawled up her back. “Dear Lord. I think Noah and I already are.”

  Chapter 20

  As much as Noah would have loved to take off with Micah for a few days––to catch up with a friend and relax––BW and his other patients came first. He gazed down at the mysterious woman now dominating his thoughts. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, exposing further her sallow complexion and the dark circles under her eyes. With tubes and wires connecting her to crucial IVs and monitors, she slept, motionless. But despite her appearance, she still stirred something inside of Noah––something he’d never felt before.

  His mind spun, envisioning the secrets locked within her memories. He’d studied her vitals constantly, checked her monitors, and examined her over and over. Had he overlooked something?

  He recounted everything from the moment he first saw her fighting off her assailant. Who was that man? Where did he come from, and why was he attacking her? Maybe he left footprints along the river… or had a car parked close by. Perhaps the man thought BW knew something… or was hiding something that belonged to him. Damn. Noah huffed at the sudden realization his profession wasn’t as different from his sister’s as he previously assumed. They both searched for answers, unraveled mysteries, and saved lives.

  He shook his head and strolled toward the door. Other patients needed his attention, too. He had rounds to make, afternoon appointments, research, and consults. He’d drop by to check on BW before he went home. Ahh, the thought of sleeping in his own bed drained a bit of his tension. He picked up his pace.

  ❋

  After catching up with Jules for an hour, Syd caught an Uber to Hillcrest Heights and spent the next hour at the Smithsonian, discussing with Jack the tests he’d already completed and several more he had yet to run. By noon, she was exhausted. Her gut grumbled, and she worried that if she didn’t return to the hotel soon, she’d spend the remainder of the day wishing she had.

  Jack must have noticed her discomfort, as he halted his one-sided conversation and frowned. “You don’t look well, Sydney. Are you feeling okay?”

  She leaned forward in her chair and rested her head on an elbow. “I’m a little tired. I didn’t sleep much last night.” Again, her abdomen rumbled. “And my stomach is a bit upset. Would you mind if I call an Uber and return to the hotel to get some rest?”

  “Nonsense.” He stood. “I’m happy to take you. It’s only a few minutes away.” He raised a hand toward her forehead then paused. “Do you mind if I check for a fever?”

  Energy waning, Syd obliged and swished her hair away from her face. “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I just lie down for a while.”

  After laying a palm across her head, he stepped back. “You feel a little warm. Do you have anything to treat a fever?”

  “I have some Ibuprofen in my bag. I’ll take a couple and try to sleep. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “How about something to relax your stomach? We have a well-stocked medicine cabinet in the lounge here. Why don’t I go check?”

  She leaned back in her chair. “I’d love a ride back to my room, but please don’t fuss. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. The strain probably caught up with me. I’m fine. Really.”

  His pinched features showed real concern. “Okay. But promise me if you feel worse, you’ll call. Trent would have my butt if I let anything happen to you.”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Then let’s go. I can stop by a pharmacy on the way.” Digging keys from his pocket, he strolled toward the lab door. “Wait. What about the amulet? I’d like to run at least two more tests before you leave for Connecticut.”

  Not feeling up to a confrontation, she gazed over her shoulder at her treasure then back to Jack. “You keep it and complete your tests. But would you mind dropping it off this afternoon when you’re finished?”

  He grinned and puffed out a breath of air. “Of course not. Besides, I’d like to make sure you’re feeling better. If you are, maybe we can grab some dinner.”

  The thought of eating tossed her stomach, but she forced a smile. “I know my stone is safer here at the museum than with me.” That was a fact. Her irrational fixation with the piece made no sense, but despite how she felt physically, she’d feel better if she had the amulet in her possession. “I don’t know why I feel the need to keep the amulet with me.”

  “You’re right. The museum security is cutting-edge high-tech, but I understand. Your find is quite remarkable and if it was mine, I’d want to keep it close, too.” He opened the lab door then made
a slight bow. “After you, ma’am.”

  Within fifteen minutes, Syd had opened her hotel room door and trudged toward the bed where she collapsed into a cloud of down comforters. Had Noah not called at that precise moment, she might have slept through her custom brother ringtone. With more effort than the motion should have taken, she rolled over then burrowed into her pocket for her phone. After three attempts to answer the device––only two of which were right side up, her patience wore thin. “I’m here. What’s up?”

  “Wow. Are you okay, kiddo? Did I wake you?”

  “I wish. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I just laid down to take a nap. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. But I had a surprise visit from Micah Miller and thought I’d give you an update. She got a hit on the reverse genetic database and forwarded the information to Julie. You met with her this morning, right?”

  “Damn…Yes. I’m sorry. I should have called you right away.” She squeezed her eyes in an attempt to clear her head. “Julie found an aunt that matched BW’s genetic genealogy, and the aunt IDed BW as Jillian Andrews, an ex-marine who worked as an agent at the Port of Houston. She discovered a shitload of cocaine with a street worth of over a billion dollars. She testified against the cartel, and they killed her husband and son. The Feds put her in witness protection, but that’s where the trail ends.”

  He blew out a gasp of air. “Wow, that’s awful. I knew she’d been through something traumatic… but losing her family.” He sighed. “At least we know who she is, now, and when her temp stops spiking, I can wake her and verify my diagnosis.” Noticing his sister’s labored breathing, he paused a long beat. “You don’t sound well, Syd. What’s going on?”

  She moaned. “At the risk of hearing an endless stream of ‘I-told-you-so,’ I think I picked up a bug on the flight yesterday. I’m super tired, achy, nauseous, and have a headache along with a symptom I’d rather not go into. Basically, I feel like I was hit by a garbage truck. Any ideas how to shake this so I can fly to Connecticut tomorrow and meet with Uncle Clay?”