by Robin Perini
Galloway grabbed his phone and made a call. “I want a search statewide on missing children over the past two weeks. See if anyone reported a mother and child missing. And check on the status of Jane Doe’s prints. I need to know who she is.” His expression turned deadly as he listened. “No, it can’t wait until morning.” He snapped the phone closed and faced the doctor. “What else can we do?”
“Not much, until she remembers.”
“How long will that be?” Daniel asked.
“I wish I could tell you. We know a lot about the human body, but the brain is one organ that I’m sorry to say is, in many ways, a mystery. She has a traumatic brain injury even though the MRI doesn’t show any swelling. Honestly there doesn’t appear to be any physical reason she shouldn’t remember.”
Daniel paced back and forth. “That’s not good enough. She needs to remember—for her own safety as well as the baby’s—so how can we speed up the process?”
“Look, Deputy, you can’t force a brain that’s been injured to work on a timetable. And we have no idea what happened to her out there. Her body is protecting her right now. We have to let her heal.”
Daniel lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “This is crazy. Every hour we delay is more time for her attacker to try again.”
“And the harder you push, the more she may bury the memories until they never come back.” The doctor narrowed his gaze at Daniel. “I know you’re impatient. I’m concerned about the baby, too, but I’m more concerned about the patient who I know exists. You have to go slowly.”
“You’re giving me nothing, doc.”
“Maybe if you retrace her steps, the familiar might bring something back. If this isn’t all in her imagination. Scent is also a strong trigger. Get some baby lotion or shampoo and introduce it naturally, with no expectations. She’ll remember more. Other than that, she needs rest and no stress.”
Daniel glanced back at the closed curtain. “That I can do. I can keep her safe and calm,” he said quietly. “She will remember.” Daniel pinned the sheriff with his gaze. “My gut tells me there is a child. Raven’s reaction was visceral. It was the first thing she said when she woke up. Can you use your network to find out if the baby exists?”
Galloway nodded. “I’m on it.”
“I’ll protect Raven. The perp obviously knows she’s here. She can’t stay.”
The sheriff’s phone rang. “Galloway.”
As the person on the other end spoke, the sheriff’s jawline went tense. “Keep digging. She didn’t come out of nowhere.”
He ended the call.
“No leads?” Daniel asked.
“Her prints didn’t get a hit. Nothing on the missing persons reports that matches her or a dark-haired child of any age. We’ve got squat.”
“How does a woman—and perhaps a child—vanish without anyone reporting it? Something’s not right.” Daniel thrust his hand into his pocket and worried the bullet casing.
Galloway nodded. “Her husband—”
“She’s not wearing a ring,” Daniel said harshly. He pounced on the statement. He didn’t want anyone to be in Raven’s life. No one but him.
His fingers flicked against the brass’s metal edge. That was wrong. He knew better than to let himself get involved. He could hurt her. She was simply a woman who needed help, but somehow, over the past few hours, she’d become important to him. More important than she should.
“Husband or not, every baby has a father. Most of the time child abduction is a family member, typically a parent. We have to consider the father the prime suspect.”
“Except we don’t know her identity. Or his. Or even if there is an abduction. Until we know who Raven is, we have no leads.”
“Catch twenty-two,” Galloway muttered.
“Doesn’t matter. She’s still in danger. I’m taking her out of here,” Daniel said. “When can she leave?” he asked the doctor.
Daniel wanted to grab her and get her away from this place. Even as he looked around the waiting room, all he saw were opportunities for an attack. Numerous entrances and easy access.
“Tomorrow.” The doctor stroked his jaw. “I can’t do anything else for her, but she has a concussion. I want her here for the remainder of the night just in case of complications. I’ll check her again first thing in the morning. If she doesn’t have further symptoms, you can take her, but you’ll need to watch her closely. If she gets nauseous or dizzy or starts seeing double again, bring her back in.”
Daniel’s body tensed in resistance. She was open and vulnerable here. This was a bad idea. He could feel it. He opened his mouth to argue—
“I’m not backing down,” the doctor said. “If she takes a turn for the worse, she’ll need immediate medical intervention.”
“In the meantime, I want all staff to deny Raven’s presence here. Got it?” Daniel told the doc.
He received a nod in return from the physician.
A loud ruckus outside the hospital interrupted the discussion. Daniel whirled around, hand on his weapon. A television news crew pushed their way into the emergency room lobby. Daniel glared at the sheriff and whirled behind the curtain hiding Raven, letting him and the doc deal with the intrusion.
After several minutes of heated argument, the sheriff got rid of the news crew. Galloway stuck his head through the curtain and nodded. “Doc’s distracting them in the parking lot.”
With a last check on the woman who hadn’t regained consciousness even in the turmoil, Daniel stalked back into the emergency room’s lobby. “We leave in the morning. Until then, I’ll take watch.” He turned to the sheriff and, after a quick look around verifying no one was eavesdropping, lowered his voice. “I hear there’s a decent motel at the edge of town. Any reason for us not to stay there?”
“I’ll call Hondo,” Galloway offered, his voice lowered, as well. “The guy’s discreet and knows his way around a weapon or two. If Raven feels safe enough, like the doc said, maybe she’ll remember.”
“A motel is better than fabric walls. But I still want to see the place before she goes anywhere near the joint.”
Galloway took out his phone. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Keep it quiet, Sheriff. I don’t like how much this guy knows.”
With a quick nod and agreement to return at dawn to watch Raven while Daniel checked out the motel, Galloway left.
Daniel stepped back through the curtain protecting Raven. Shadows marred her pale complexion. He couldn’t stop staring at the porcelain of her skin or the vulnerability of her expression. Her full lips had parted slightly, but they turned down at the corners, her troubles painted on her face. He could understand that. His hand hovered centimeters from the skin he knew would be softer than a breath of fresh air.
He closed his fist and pulled away. She deserved better than he would ever be. That bullet in his pocket was his reminder that not everyone made it back from hell.
With a sigh, he settled into the chair next to Raven’s bed. Anyone looking in would think he was relaxed. Not a chance. Her fear-filled eyes haunted his memory.
But no one would get near Raven again.
Not on his watch.
* * *
CHRISTOPHER GINGERLY PRESSED against his swollen nose. He swore and scanned the eerily quiet surroundings in the alley behind the sheriff’s office before catching sight of the phone line coming down the side of the building.
Thank God this decrepit town hadn’t updated the system in decades.
“This is stupid,” Tad hissed. “Are you trying to get us caught?”
“You a coward?” Christopher egged on his friend. He knew what buttons to push with Tad. He hadn’t wanted an accomplice, but this was clearly a two-man job. Christopher had to stay out of sight until his nose healed. He needed backup.
; No one better than the guy he’d grown up with. They’d gotten thrown in jail together, had joined the army together and had found a way to get kicked out of the military together.
Christopher could count on Tad. “Look, the nurse didn’t know anything ’cept Jane Doe left the hospital. If anyone knows where that woman is, it’s Sheriff Galloway, and we can’t just ask. We need intel.”
“I saw the sheriff. Former Special Forces, I bet. He’s dangerous. Just like the lieutenant,” Tad said.
“We took care of him just fine.”
“Yeah, but not quick enough. Still got booted out,” Tad grumbled. “No pension, no nothing. Can’t even get a frickin’ job now. All that time wasted.”
“I wouldn’t say it was a total waste. I learned a few things and made some pretty good connections.” Christopher pulled a small electronic device from his pocket. He clipped it on the phone line that had been tacked to the side of the building and tucked a small earpiece inside in his ear. “Now we’ll know exactly what the good sheriff is talking about no matter where we go. When he hears where that woman is, she’s dead.”
“And what about the sheriff? What if he interferes?”
“If he gets in our way, well, bullets kill Special Forces, too.”
* * *
THE CLOP OF worn boots sounded on the linoleum floor of the hospital. The owner paused, just visible beneath the curtain. “Come on in, Sheriff,” Daniel said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Galloway pressed back the fabric. “You said dawn, so here I am. Any change?”
“The nurse woke Raven about a half hour ago. She seems better.”
“Did she remember anything?”
Daniel shook his head and rose.
“I’ll watch over her,” Galloway said, his hand on his Beretta.
“I won’t be long.” Daniel paused for a moment and sent the sheriff a sideways glance. “What are you doing in this Podunk town, Galloway? Something about you doesn’t quite fit.”
Galloway’s lips twisted. “Pot. Kettle.”
“Touché,” Daniel muttered with one last long glance at the sleeping woman in the bed. He’d teased her about being a sleeping princess, but damned if she didn’t fit the part. Just looking at her made his heart ache. “I’ll be back, Raven. Count on it.”
He shoved aside the unwanted desires. He had to remember the past, the reason he couldn’t let himself care. He strode through the small clinic and out the exit. He had a job to do, and nothing, especially not his own weakness, would stop him from protecting her.
The sight greeting him outside the clinic made him shake his head. Trouble. The fuzz face had dust and grime on his coat, but he sat there with a rag in his mouth and expectations on his face.
“What the hell did you get into, boy?” Daniel asked, stepping forward cautiously so as not to run the skittish dog away.
Trouble cocked his head, then dropped his trophy before taking a few steps back to his now customary six feet.
Daniel knelt down, noticing a triangle of material looking like torn jeans. Several red splotches decorated the worn blue fabric. Blood, maybe? “Seems like you had a battle with someone.”
His senses pinged with awareness. Raven’s attacker had worn jeans. Could he be that lucky? He raced into the hospital and returned wearing a glove on one hand and carrying a bowl of water in the other. Daniel set the liquid down. Trouble didn’t hesitate. While the mutt lapped up the drink, Daniel picked up the fabric by the corner, studied it for a moment and dumped it into a paper lunch sack. “Who’d you go after, Trouble?”
He kept his hands by his side, kneeling down, meeting Trouble’s gaze at eye level. “You hurt, boy? Will you let me check you over?”
Daniel focused on making his voice calm and smooth. Normally he would’ve let the dog be, but there was blood on the animal’s side.
“I’ll be quick.” His movements slow and steady, Daniel made more effort than he had in weeks to get close to the dog. As if he understood, Trouble sat quiet but alert. Daniel ran his hands over the mutt’s fur.
When he reached the dog’s side, Trouble yelped.
“Someone hurt you?” Daniel’s gaze hardened, and he palpated the animal’s ribs. They didn’t seem broken, and there were no cuts, but whoever the canine had attacked had fought back.
“Not too bad. You’ll live, boy.” Daniel tried to scratch behind the floppy ears, but Trouble’s patience had ended. He scooted away.
Daniel stood. “You are one strange dog. I’ll drop off your little trophy and see if you tangled with Raven’s attacker.”
He hurried in and out of the hospital. Trouble hadn’t moved. “I’m going for a ride. I don’t suppose you want to come?”
Trouble let out a bark. Out of his pocket Daniel pulled the keys to the truck the sheriff had loaned him. The casing from his dad’s gun fell to the ground. Daniel scooped it up. He couldn’t lose the reminder. That mutt, and now Raven, had somehow embedded themselves behind the protective wall Daniel had constructed around his heart. All he had to do was look at the cylinder of brass to remind him of what he’d come home to that horrible afternoon.
Blood and brains splattered on the wall of his father’s bedroom. His sisters’ screams when they’d followed him into that death room.
He shook his head to dispel the memories. No time for the past.
With a quick tug he opened the door of the truck. “Well?”
He half expected Trouble to skedaddle, but the dog surprised him yet again. He jumped into the vehicle and sat on the passenger seat.
“So you hate cop cars and uniforms, do you, but not trucks? I can’t say that I blame you. Just takes one psycho in uniform to sour the taste.”
Daniel put the truck into gear and exited the hospital parking lot. Trouble stuck his head out the window, letting the wind blow through his reddish hair, with that crazy dog smile on his face. The trip didn’t last long, though. Within a few minutes, Daniel had traveled from one end of the small town to the other.
He pulled inside the parking lot of the Copper Mine Motel. The place should have been a dump, but a fresh coat of paint brightened it up, and two iron kettles of pansies lined each side of the screen door entrance, giving it a vintage and welcoming vibe.
Daniel pressed the buzzer.
A curtain pushed aside. A tiny woman with scraggly gray hair and piercing blue eyes peeped through the gap. “You Daniel Adams?”
“Don’t be asking him his name, Lucy. How many times have I told you, you give away too much? What if it’s a bad guy?”
She pouted, then shrugged. “How many visitors we get at the crack of dawn? Besides, I can spot a bad guy a mile away. Quit babying me, big brother. You’re not my keeper.”
A large barrel-chested man opened the door. His brown hair was wild, but his beard well kempt. Tattoos covered his arms. A steel loop pierced his lip.
Incongruously, oven mitts encased his hands, and he held a fresh-baked pan of chocolate chip cookies. “Sorry for the delay. Had to get these out of the oven.”
So not a picture Daniel had expected. The cookies should belong to his sister. This guy should be greased up, taking a wrench to a Harley. “You’re Hondo?”
“You got it. This is my place.”
His sister cleared her throat and glared at him.
“Yeah, well, Lucy here got it in a settlement from her lyin’, cheatin’ ex-husband.” He glanced at his sister. “But I’m the one who keeps the place from falling down around your feet. Isn’t that right, little sister?”
“Just don’t you forget who’s in charge,” she huffed. “I’m going to watch wrestling.”
“Keep the volume down,” he commented with a smile in his eyes. He turned back to Daniel. “She’s far too trusting. I hear you need a room.”
“For a
while.”
“I also hear you prefer no record that you’re staying here,” he said with a scowl. “I don’t want no problems. I see any funny business goin’ on, I won’t hesitate to call the sheriff. I’m only lettin’ you stay ’cause he vouched for you.”
“Agreed.” Daniel pulled out his wallet.
Hondo raised his hand. “Sheriff took care of one week’s rent. We’ll talk after that if we’re both still interested.”
Daniel studied the man in front of him. He didn’t see deception behind Hondo’s eyes. “That’s fair.” He shoved his billfold back into his pocket. “One week.”
“Good.” Hondo smiled and held out the baking sheet. “Cookie?”
* * *
RAVEN PEERED THROUGH the pickup’s window at a succession of mom-and-pop shops down Trouble’s main drag and clutched the hospital blanket tighter around her. The big stores hadn’t invaded yet. A few doorways had been blockaded, but for the most part, this little Texas town looked to be doing all right. Better than she was, certainly.
She shivered, then huddled against the truck’s worn seats. Despite the temperatures in the seventies outside, she couldn’t stop the chills from skittering down her arms. She clutched at Trouble’s fur. His big brown eyes peered up at her from his spot on the floorboard. The dog could very well be the only reason her legs had stayed warm. He didn’t want to move away from her. She appreciated the loyalty.
“I can’t believe he’s letting you pet him like that,” Daniel muttered.
Raven scratched Trouble’s floppy ears. “I like dogs. And he’s well trained. A service dog, do you think?”
“Maybe,” Daniel said. “He didn’t have any tags, and he doesn’t act like a K-9, but I gotta wonder if he might be search and rescue after watching him find you in that mine. He wouldn’t stop until I dug you out.”
She lifted Trouble’s chin. “So, boy, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? You saved my life.” The animal tilted his head into her touch, and she fondled his soft ears and bent down. “Thank you,” she whispered.
