by Lisa Harris
“You’ve been hit,” she said as he disconnected the call.
“It’s just a flesh wound. My primary goal right now is to get you out of here. Backup is on its way to arrest the guys that attacked you.”
She stared out the rear window to where the men were trying to figure out why their bikes wouldn’t start and then focused back on his arm. “You have no idea how bad it is. You’re running on adrenaline now. I need to look at it, and you certainly shouldn’t be driving.”
“We’re twenty minutes out of Timber Falls,” he said, pressing on the accelerator. “I can wait that long to get treated.”
“We need to get the bleeding stopped before then.” She grabbed for a T-shirt on the back seat and started pressing it against the wound. This was insane. She couldn’t remember her name or what she did for a living, but somehow her response felt automatic. “What kind of first-aid equipment do you have in the back of your car?”
“A basic medical kit, exam gloves, a tourniquet...”
She pressed the shirt tighter, praying the bleeding stopped. “What did you do to their bikes?”
“They’re disabled for now.”
“So they can’t follow us?”
“Not unless they flag down a ride. I’ve got their spark plug wires.”
“That will buy us some time.” But she needed to stop the bleeding now. “I might not know my name, but somehow I know how to deal with this. Are you feeling light-headed?”
“No.”
“Nauseated?”
“No.”
She felt for his pulse. It was fast but strong and steady. “I should drive.”
“Except you’ve just been in involved in an accident and hit your head. Out of the two of us, I’m definitely in a better position to get us out of here.”
“We make quite a pair.” She frowned at his stubbornness, but wasn’t backing down. “Drive another three or four miles then pull over so I can patch you up properly.”
“I’m not sure we should stop—”
“A gunshot wound isn’t something to play around with, and you’re losing blood. I need to assess how serious it is.”
She took his nod as confirmation that he would do what she asked, then listened as he spent the next mile or two telling her what he’d found out at the scene. The FBI badges and the file that said they’d been transporting a witness for a trial...
“Do you remember any of this?” he asked.
She fought to resurrect memories she knew had to be there, but instead only encountered a mounting frustration. “I’m sorry, but no. I can’t remember anything.”
“Don’t worry about it. Your memories will return.”
“Maybe, but from what you’re telling me, I’m not sure I want to remember.”
What had she seen? It had to have been something horrible, like another murder.
A minute later he pulled the car off at an overlook with a stunning view of the mountains to the west. But she barely saw it. Instead her mind was fighting to focus on the one thing she knew she could do. She hurried to the trunk of the car with him then started going through his first-aid kit, trying not to give in to the panic.
Seconds later she carefully helped him out of his jacket and uniform, leaving on his T-shirt, so she could get to the wound.
“Ouch.”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those macho men who faint at the sight of blood.”
“Hardly, but you’ve got to give me a little credit. I was just shot.”
“According to you, it’s just an insignificant flesh wound.”
“Are you always this ornery?” He shot her a stern look, but his eyes were smiling.
Do you flirt with every woman you have contact with?
She bit back the question on the tip of her tongue.
“Honestly, I have no idea.” She shrugged, unable to avoid his grin or to ignore just how good-looking he was with those dark brown eyes. She shoved the ridiculous thoughts away.
“The good news is that you were right about one thing,” she said. “The bullet skimmed your arm and the blood’s already clotting. You’ll need stiches, but you’ll survive.”
He smiled again. “That’s a relief.”
She looked way, focusing on his arm as she disinfected her hands then started cleaning the wound. The routine seemed familiar. Comfortable. And was the first time she’d felt in control since the accident.
Or at least as much as I can feel in control in a situation like this.
The reminder sent panic flooding through her again. She might not remember why she’d been in that car, but she did know those men were still out there. And something told her that missing spark plug wires weren’t going to slow them down for long.
She opened a butterfly bandage to hold the wound together, trying to stomp out her anxiety at the same time. “They could have flagged down a car to follow us.”
“I know. But there aren’t a lot of cars out on these back roads right now, especially with the storm coming. Besides, backup should be there by now.”
“I hope so.”
“Which means we’re even now,” he said. “I saved your life and now you’ve saved mine.”
She shook her head. “Your life hardly needed saving. Anyone could do this, though it seems...familiar.”
A memory flashed to the forefront. She was running through a long hall with tiled white floors. Someone was calling a name.
Tory.
Her name.
His hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present. “You okay?”
She nodded, her hands shaking as she repacked the first-aid kit. “I remembered something. My name’s Tory.”
He pulled his shirt back on and started buttoning it up. “That’s wonderful. And it means your memory’s coming back.”
“Slowly, but I still feel like I’m fighting my way through this heavy fog.”
He smiled at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Tory. I’m Griffin, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you, as well.” His smile managed to erase some of her tension. “So we now know three things. My name’s Tory. I’m a witness in a case. And someone wants me dead.”
“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound quite so wonderful.”
“I guess there isn’t a nice way to put that, is there?” She laughed. “I’m just finding it kind of ironic that someone’s after me for what I know, but I can’t remember what it is.”
“Don’t worry.” He slammed the trunk shut then headed for the driver’s seat. “We’re going to figure this out, Tory... But for now, we need to get out of here.”
She climbed back into the front passenger seat, knowing he was right. She needed to find a way to fight the panic and stay focused on the fact that at least they were both alive.
Unlike the FBI agents.
“How are you feeling?” Griffin flipped on his blinker then sped back onto the highway.
“Seems like I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me. I happen to have a really good doctor. In fact, she told me I’m going to live.”
Tory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you always this funny?”
“My brothers would probably say no. That I’m the serious one of the bunch. But you didn’t answer my question.”
She smiled again, wondering how he kept doing that. Distracting her from the situation. “I’m okay for now. I just wish I could remember something significant.”
“Remembering your name’s pretty significant. That, and I think we might have figured out your profession.”
She leaned back against the seat. “Somewhere I must have picked up some medical experience.”
“I’m thinking a paramedic or maybe an ER doctor.”
>
“Maybe, but I’d suggest we don’t test that theory.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I have to agree with you on that one.”
Even his smile couldn’t put her totally at ease. Two men had just died protecting her. She could not let that happen again.
* * *
Griffin glanced out his rearview mirror as he sped toward town, glad they’d finally made it onto the main highway.
More often than not, women made him feel nervous. As much as he enjoyed the small talk with the woman sitting next to him, he couldn’t shake the worry that whoever was after her was going to find her. On top of that, his arm felt as if it were on fire. But he couldn’t worry about that now. He was more concerned that the men who’d killed the FBI agents would find a way to pick up his tail despite his attempt to disable their motorcycles.
He was convinced they weren’t dealing with amateurs. The attack against the FBI escort had clearly been strategic. The drivers had known the route and had planned their assault. But at least Tory was safe for the moment. If she hadn’t escaped into the woods when she had, they’d either have her or she’d be dead now.
The other pressing concern was the weather. The news had been reporting for days that a huge storm system was sweeping in from the north. That meant he was going to need to get her somewhere safe before the roads became too dangerous to use.
Tory pressed her hands together in her lap then stared out the window. “It’s starting to snow again. How far out of Timber Falls are we?”
“Just a couple minutes.”
“Good. And it looks like the bleeding from your arm has stopped.”
His phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. It was the sheriff’s office. He hoped they were calling with an update.
“What’s your ETA?” Sheriff Jackson asked as soon as Griffin answered.
“We’re almost to the Timber Falls exit.”
“Good. Just to be on the safe side, I’ve arranged for Dr. Swanson to meet you at the back entrance of the clinic. You should be able to slip the witness in without being noticed. Someone will also be there to sew you up if needed.”
“Thank you, but please tell me you found the guys who did this?”
“I wish I could say we did, but when backup arrived at the scene, they found the bikes, but no signs of the men. I put out a BOLO from the descriptions you gave us, but it’s not going to be easy to search for them with this storm coming in.”
“What about the accident scene?” Griffin took the exit and headed straight to the clinic located on the edge of the small town. “Was anything found that might give us answers?”
“That’s going to take time. The coroner just arrived to pick up the bodies. They’ve been ID’d as special agents Lincoln and Adler...but that’s really all we know at this point.”
Griffin frowned. He needed some good news. “Have you heard from the FBI yet?”
“I’m still waiting for them to call back. I’ll let you know as soon as they do.”
Frustrated, Griffin hung up then drove through the back of the clinic parking lot. “I know this has got to be unsettling.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I can’t get their faces out of my mind. They died trying to protect me.”
He parked in an empty space near the back door and shut off the engine, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms to tell her everything was going to be okay. Because he knew the truth. Sometimes things didn’t turn out the way you wanted. Sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, everything wouldn’t be okay.
“You know none of this is your fault,” he said finally.
“Really? Because the way I see it, those agents were killed because of me.” She stared straight ahead, that lost look back in her eyes. “It just seems so crazy. All the things I want to remember I can’t, and yet no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the picture out of my mind of that agent being shot and dying in front of me.”
“I’m so sorry you saw what you did. Sorry your being in the wrong place at the wrong time put you in this situation in the first place.”
“I guess as a deputy you would understand death.” She turned and caught his gaze. “Does it ever fade, some of the things you see?”
He looked away, wanting to ignore her question, but knew he couldn’t. “I’ve had to learn to deal with things I’ve seen, but that still doesn’t always make it easy. There are faces and stories I’ll never be able to forget.”
“Thank you for what you’ve done for me.”
He shrugged off the gratitude, ready for a change in subject. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Maybe, but you saved my life.”
Thirty minutes later the nurse had just finished stitching up Griffin’s arm when his phone rang again. He stepped into the small hallway at the back of the clinic for privacy and took the call.
“Deputy O’Callaghan...this is FBI Special Agent Mark Hill. I understand you have one of our witnesses in your custody. Victoria Faraday.”
“I do. We’re at the clinic in Timber Falls and she’s in with the doctor right now.”
“The report I received said she’s suffering from memory loss and you’d been shot.”
“I’m waiting for a report from the doctor about her, but yes. Thankfully the bullet just grazed me.” Griffin took a deep breath before asking, “I’m assuming you’ve received the news that both your agents were killed?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Griffin hesitated. “I’m extremely sorry for your loss.”
“So am I. They were good men that are going to be greatly missed. Jinx Ryder—the man behind this—has been a thorn in the FBI’s side for far too long.”
“What can you tell me about the case?”
“I can send you the file...but, briefly, she was out hiking eight months ago and witnessed the brutal murder of a couple not too far from where you are.”
“I remember that headline.”
“We’d been hunting Jinx for over a year. He’s suspected to be involved in a dozen other felonies, but we’ve never been able to pin anything on the man. Not until Victoria Faraday.”
“And she’s your eye witness.”
“Our only witness. That is why I need your help. The highway north of you was just shut down, which means it’s going to take some time to get anyone to you. They’re calling this the storm of the decade.”
Griffin glanced at the closed door where Tory was still meeting with the doctor. “What do you need me to do?”
“She’s going to need protection until we can get there.”
Griffin frowned. Playing the role of bodyguard wasn’t exactly on his to-do list for the weekend. While he wasn’t keen on babysitting, neither was he willing to leave her stranded.
“Can you get her somewhere safe for the next forty-eight hours or at least until this storm passes? Somewhere out of the way and secure until I can get someone there?”
Griffin mentally flipped through his limited options. “My parents own a ranch not far from here. I suppose I could take her there for a couple of days. It’s unlikely these guys would be able to track her down.”
“Sounds like the perfect plan. And, Deputy O’Callaghan...this needs to stay under the radar. Jinx clearly has a long arm. Someone was able to track down that escort—”
“Exactly, which has me worried.” Griffin vacillated, but he needed to know what was going on. “If you want to ensure her safety, you need to find out where your leak is.”
“I can assure you there is no leak—”
“I’m sorry, Agent Hill, but two of your agents were just murdered and your witness barely escaped with her life.”
“And we are doing everything we can to find out how that happened.”
At the end of the hall, Tory stepped out of the examination room with the doctor.
“I
need to go,” the FBI agent said, “but keep me updated.”
Griffin frowned as he hung up. If the FBI didn’t find their leak—or at least admit they had one—keeping Tory safe might prove impossible.
THREE
Tory stepped into the clinic hallway with the doctor, wishing he had given her a prescription to restore her memory. Instead he’d told her all she could really do was watch for symptoms and wait for her memories to return. But that was easier said than done. She was tired of fighting to resurrect memories she knew were there but couldn’t find. And scared at how vulnerable that made her feel.
“Deputy O’Callaghan...” The doctor dropped his pen into his front jacket pocket as Griffin walked up to them. “Sorry we took so long, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“That’s fine,” Griffin said then turned to her. “How are you feeling?”
“While I did hit my head in the accident, the doctor believes my amnesia should resolve itself eventually.”
“That sounds like good news.”
“It is,” Dr. Swanson said. “In the meantime, she’ll feel as if her thoughts and memories are clouded, but clearly they are already slowly returning, which is a good sign. I would, though, like to keep her here overnight for observation—”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Griffin shook his head. “Staying here would make it harder to limit who knows where she is. And the more people who know, the riskier this whole situation becomes.”
Tory felt another wave of panic hit. “Then what am I supposed to do? Is the FBI sending someone else?”
“Because of the storm, they won’t be able to get any agents here for at least forty-eight hours. They’ve asked me to ensure your safety until they get here.”
She worked to process the news. If trained FBI agents hadn’t been able to stop an attack, how was Griffin—a local sheriff’s deputy—supposed to keep her safe? She’d never be able to live with someone else dying trying to protect her.
“This isn’t your case—”
“No,” he said, “but I do have a solution. I want to take you to my family ranch, which is about thirty minutes from town. If we leave now, we should get there before the storm hits.”
