Fractured Memory

by Jordyn Redwood

  “What happened?” one asked. Eli took in the name on the badge. Russell.

  “She complained of a severe headache, seemed unsteady and then passed out. I can’t get her to wake up.”

  Another firefighter surveyed the living room.

  “Is someone helping my partner, Ben? He’s unconscious outside.”

  “Yes, another team is with him. What’s her name?” Russell asked.

  “Julia Galloway.”

  “Age?”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “And you are?”

  “Eli Cayne.”

  “Relationship?”

  What could he say? Protector?

  Eli indicated himself and Will. “We’re U.S. Marshals.”

  That raised Russell’s eyebrows. He turned away from Eli and focused on Julia. His partner snaked his hands under her T-shirt and attached heart monitoring leads to her chest, a blood pressure cuff to her arm and a lit probe on her finger. Next came some oxygen delivered through small tubes in her nose.

  Russell placed a fisted hand in the center of her chest and rubbed it against her sternum. “Julia? Julia! Can you hear me?” He took a penlight from his pocket and shone it into her pupils. “Equal and reactive to light,” Russell noted. A firefighter helped the paramedics by documenting Russell’s findings.

  Russell’s partner called out, “Vital signs are normal. I’m going to start an IV.”

  Russell turned back to Eli. “Do you know anything about why she wouldn’t be responding to us? Did she fall and hit her head? Did she take any drugs or alcohol that you know of? Is she a diabetic?”

  “No, no, and I don’t know.”

  Russell turned to his partner. “Let’s get a blood sugar. After that, let’s try a dose of Narcan.”

  “What is that?” Eli asked.

  “Narcan is a medication that reverses narcotic drugs if people overdose on them. The blood sugar will tell us if she’s diabetic.”

  At that moment, a piercing shriek filled the small townhome. Everyone startled and Eli reached for his weapon.

  Julia didn’t flinch.

  “What is that?” Eli yelled.

  A firefighter bent over and pulled the contraption out of the plug. The alarm ceased. “Just as I thought. It’s the home’s carbon monoxide detector. Found it on the floor. There are toxic levels in this place.”

  Russell snapped his fingers in the air. “Everyone...go, go, go! Let’s get her outside.”

  Eli reached under and scooped his arms under Julia’s and lifted her up. Russell grabbed her legs. It surprised Eli how quickly Russell could go down the stairs backward with a body in tow, but he was likely used to doing it every day.

  “Straight to the rig, guys,” Russell instructed, and they raced Julia to the back of the open ambulance door.

  A second ambulance screeched to a halt in the street just behind the two fire trucks.

  “Hey,” Russell yelled to his cohorts. “Get that guy loaded fast and on one hundred percent oxygen. There’s a carbon monoxide leak somewhere in that place.”

  One of the firefighters held a thumbs-up sign and began to scoop up Ben’s lifeless body.

  Eli and Russell clamored up the two steps at the back of the ambulance and plopped Julia down on the narrow gurney.

  “Are you coming?” Russell asked Eli.

  “Yes.” Eli saw Will and Jace hovering by the front door of the townhome. “Jace! Meet me at...”

  “Sage Medical Center,” Russell said.

  Jace nodded, and Russell yanked the doors closed and pounded on the roof. After that, he busied himself removing the oxygen prongs from Julia’s nose and placing her on an oxygen mask. Eli heard the rush of air as Russell cranked the oxygen to its maximum flow rate.

  Eli sat on the bench opposite the gurney and grabbed Julia’s lifeless hand. “Is this all from the carbon monoxide?”

  “Likely. It explains why both of them fell ill.”

  Eli shook his head as scrambled thoughts scurried through his mind. “What does that do to a person?”

  Russell placed a blue tourniquet around Julia’s forearm. “Carbon monoxide is a toxic, colorless, scentless gas. It replaces oxygen on your red blood cells and starves the body of oxygen. That’s why she complained of a headache. Your brain gets very cranky when it doesn’t have enough oxygen.”

  “Why didn’t we get sick?” Eli motioned his hand between himself and Russell.

  “It takes time for that process to happen—about fifteen minutes minimum if the levels are high. Once you open a door, the gas will start to vent out. We didn’t have enough of an exposure to be symptomatic.”

  “Can you treat it?”

  Russell withdrew the needle from its plastic sheath and then shoved it into the back of Julia’s hand. Drops of her blood hit the floor of the ambulance before Russell could connect the IV solution. Her life spilled out in front of Eli. Was he at fault? Could he have prevented this from happening?

  Russell pointed to the mask. “The oxygen. If it’s really bad, the doctor may place her in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber.”

  “Will she be all right?” Eli asked.

  “If we got to her in time, she’ll be fine. I just don’t know if we’re in that window.”

  For the first time in a long while, Eli bent his head and prayed to a God he’d distanced himself from.

  Lord, keep Julia safe. Heal her body.

  I need her in this life with me.

  * * *

  Under the muffled sound of sirens, Julia’s eyelids fluttered open. Her head...pounded, the surge of blood like freight trains rushing through a cross stop. She tried to pull her hand to her forehead to put counterpressure against the pain, but something snagged her hand.

  Warm fingers swallowed her hand up. “Julia.”

  Eli’s voice. Strong. Concerned. She inhaled a calming breath. Everything would be okay if he was with her. Why did she feel so terrible? Her body ached worse than when she contracted the flu. With her other hand, she groped her face and felt the mask covering her mouth and nose. The oxygen cooled her face. When she tried to pulled it off, another hand pushed it away.

  “Leave it on, Julia.” Eli again. “You’re in the back of an ambulance.”

  Blinking several times, she tried to clear her blurred vision. She tried to sit up, only to be stopped by the strap around her chest. She was covered by a rough, well-used cotton blanket.

  Julia shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. “What happened?”

  Eli gripped her hand tighter. “They think it was carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  At first, it didn’t mean anything to her. Even her medical mind couldn’t process the information. Everything was so jumbled. Fuzzy.

  Then a stranger’s voice. “My name’s Russell. I’m a paramedic. Glad to see that you’re waking up.”

  Her eyes finally focused. Eli’s blue eyes softened. A faint smile came to his lips. Her heart ticked up a notch.

  “How did it happen?” Julia asked.

  “What?” Eli said.

  “Julia, are you allergic to anything?” Russell asked.

  She shook her head. “Accident or on purpose?”

  Confusion clouded Eli’s face. How could she make him understand what she really wanted to know? Had this been an attempt on her life?

  Russell interrupted before Eli could respond. “Do you have any chronic illnesses? Do you take any medications?”

  Julia shook her head again. “Did they try to—”

  Russell’s head loomed into her field of vision. “Julia, I think it’s best if you rest. Your confusion is normal. Once we get the poison out of your system, you’ll start to feel a lot better.” He patted her shoulder and sat back down.

  “Kill
me?”

  Eli gripped her hand in both of his and bent his head, resting his forehead against her fingers. Her heart sank as tears fell down her face, collecting in her ear wells.

  He didn’t know. He couldn’t answer her. But his posture spoke of defeat. Eli was strong. Smart. Maybe even the kind of man she dreamed might someday take an interest in her. He was trained to prevent crime—to pick up on circumstances that were suspicious. She could tell he felt responsible for what had happened.

  When he looked up, his blue eyes held hers. Fierce. Determined. “I don’t know if this was deliberate yet, but I’m going to find out.”

  If Eli Cayne couldn’t keep her safe...could anyone?

  FOUR

  Eli was relieved that after six hours of hyperbaric oxygen therapy, Ben and Julia were fully awake and seemed back to themselves, though bored at being cooped up. Ben was medically cleared and officially discharged from the emergency department. Eli ordered him to go home and rest for the remainder of the day. He found Julia in the next room flipping channels on the small screen mounted in the corner of her room. She had dodged a bullet again. At least figuratively this time. Eli had made a quick trip back to the town house to get her a change of clothes and her Bible. Anything he could do to provide her comfort he was willing to do. In the short twenty-four hours since they had been reconnected, there was one attempt on her life...now two?

  He and Will stood in the hall outside Julia’s room. Will looked better than Eli felt after Eli insisted he head home and grab a few hours’ sleep. Since they were a man down on Julia’s detail, Eli needed him back sooner than later. Will sidled up next to him and looked in through the window. “She looks good. Are you going in or just hovering?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Will asked.

  Eli adjusted the grocery sack in his hand that contained the items he’d collected for Julia. That was always a loaded question as far as Eli was concerned. “Good news first.”

  “There was a crack in the furnace. That town house was built in the eighties. Who knows if the furnace was ever replaced? According to Quentin, that safe house hasn’t been used in years.”

  “That’s the good news?” Eli adjusted the bag in his hands. “I can’t wait to hear the bad news.”

  “FBI Forensics thinks it may have been tampered with. They’re not hanging their hats on it yet, but they are dusting for prints and having some other analysis done to see if they can prove it out.”

  Eli turned to Will. “How are we supposed to get Julia to trust us? The first night she’s in our care she nearly dies.”

  Will smirked. “Come on, Eli. That might be a little bit of an overstatement. Look at her now—she’s perfectly fine. I overhead one of the nurses say she could be discharged home today like Ben.”

  Eli shook his head. “No, not today. I want her here until we can thoroughly check out the next safe house. Two agents—one inside her hospital room and one outside.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do. I’ll be having a discussion with Quentin. It’s his responsibility to ensure that these locations are thoroughly vetted before the witness arrives. Having a witness die while under the protection of the U.S. Marshals would bring horrific embarrassment to the agency.”

  Will held a hand up. “Eli, I get it. I know this is bad. But are you sure there’s nothing more? Even though it’s not the FBI’s main focus, witness protection is not a walk in the park. The very nature of protecting people is rife with problems.”

  “Your point?” Eli asked.

  Will stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You don’t seem to be handling this well. I’ll admit—it doesn’t help her trust us. It makes us look bad, but she’s okay and we’ll do better next time. In reality, I’m not sure how we could have prevented the furnace issue.” He paused and rocked back onto his heels.

  Or how could we have kept someone from tampering with it? Isn’t that the more appropriate question?

  Eli felt it in himself—the tight tension he didn’t know how to dispel without lashing out. What was really going on? On the surface, Will was partially right. Protecting a witness was a mine field and he should manage these issues with a calmer head, and he usually was very levelheaded. With Julia, his protective instincts were in overdrive. Was it more than preventing her death? Was it that he had this strong emotional attachment that tethered his mood to her level of safety? The more her life was at risk, the more unsettled and angry he became? That wasn’t the most rational response for someone just doing his job. If the FBI proved tampering, that would mean her killer had discovered the location of the safe house and accessed it before their arrival.

  That changed everything.

  It would indicate someone paid a lot of money to track Julia down even in protective custody. Or someone involved with inside knowledge leaked where she was going to be.

  Simply pulling Julia from her normal routine might not be enough. A mole put her life significantly more at risk. Was it even possible?

  The truth was, seeing Julia limp and lifeless this morning had been too close for him. Too close to the moment when he’d held her the last time and she barely clung to life. If he didn’t get these feelings that had simmered for over a year stuffed back into containment, he wouldn’t be able to do his job.

  Eli shook his head to dispel these thoughts.

  Eli—pull yourself together. Don’t let your feelings for her put her at risk.

  He cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology.”

  “It’s all right.”

  Eli squared his body to face Will’s. “No, it’s not. You’re right. I haven’t acted in a professional manner.”

  “I’ve talked to Quentin myself on this matter and he gave me the location of the next safe house. I agree with you she’s safer in the hospital overnight. They’re getting ready to release Ben as we speak. I’ll go to the next location with a maintenance man and make sure all utilities are working properly as well as the security systems. Furnace check. Fire alarms. Carbon monoxide detectors in place.”

  “Thanks, Will. I appreciate your work on this. Let’s be thorough. There are worse things than keeping her tucked here for a few days.”

  “Exactly. I’ll head out and work on those details. And you?”

  Eli shrugged and held the grocery bag up. “I guess I need to work on building her trust in us again.”

  * * *

  Julia couldn’t find anything to watch on TV. The headache and chest pain were gone, and the latest blood result showed the carbon monoxide was cleared from her system. She was free from the confining hyperbaric oxygen chamber. Why hadn’t she been released as the doctor said she would be?

  What disturbed her were the visions...or hallucinations...or could they be actual, real memories?

  In some ways, her amnesia was a blessing. There wasn’t the terror of knowing exactly what happened to her on a daily basis. The subconscious remnants were what plagued her and likely were the cause of her anxiety. Would working to recapture those memories heal her from the anxiety? Was she brave enough to try and do it?

  Today, she remembered more than she ever had before about the attack.

  At least, she was fairly certain that what she remembered was true.

  On that fateful day, Julia had just come downstairs after getting ready for work. She was about to put on her brightly colored paisley clogs that were tucked under the table in her foyer but decided it might be best to get her lunch ready instead. There had been the softest click and a cool breeze that swept through her kitchen. She’d crossed over to her sliding glass door to see if she’d left it cracked open from the previous evening. Peeling aside the curtain, she could see it was latched. Even the security bar was down.

  When she turned around,
a man stood just feet away from her. Even recalling this much caused her heart to fire indiscriminately, and she checked her pulse to see if the rhythm was regular. Resting her head against the pillow, she closed her eyes.

  Why can’t I see you? Why are you just a fuzzed-out figure? I locked the front door. How did you get in? Has my mind made this whole thing up?

  What was new was seeing a figure at all. Was it something to be celebrated? Julia wasn’t convinced. After all, if it really couldn’t offer any new information, what good did it do her except cause her more anxiety?

  Then what replaced it was the sweet singsong of a male voice that whispered to her. Those are the brown eyes I’ve been waiting to see.

  The faint knock at the door caused the memory to vanish. Eli poked his head into her room, and she motioned him forward.

  The second thing that caused her anxiety? The gap in her memory claimed every moment she’d interacted with Eli. Considering the things he knew about her, it reasoned they’d spent a lot of time together.

  “You look a lot better,” he offered, pulling a chair closer to the bed. He set a thin plastic grocery bag at her side. “I brought you these. A change of clothes and your Bible.”

  She grasped the bag with the tip of her fingers and pulled it closer. “Thank you. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

  His eyes darted to the side. “That’s what we need to talk about.”

  “I don’t want to stay here.”

  “You’re safe here. I think it’s—”

  “No! Eli, please...” She pressed her thumb and forefinger at the corners of her eyes to stem the flow of threatening tears.

  He rested his hand over hers. “Julia, it’s okay. You’re a nurse. You practically live in a hospital.”

  How could she explain it to him? Was it the environment that was culling these memories? Was it being in the same position, forced to stay in a hospital bed that was connecting her brain cells again? Or was it Eli’s presence?

  She fisted her hand and rested it at her side. The truth of the matter was her psyche was unprepared to remember the attack.