by Liz Johnson
“Did you get a plate number or a make of the motorcycle?” The officer chewed on the end of his pen, holding it poised against his notepad.
“No. It had neon green on it, and I might recognize it if I saw a picture of it, but it all happened so fast.”
The uniform scribbled into his pad, but Zach could only watch Julie’s face. Her jaw shifted back and forth, a visible account of the tension that overtook her and her fight to release it. She’d either conquered her tears or found that grinding her teeth was a better outlet.
But her telltale hands never lied. Holding her blanket closed below her chin, they trembled.
He couldn’t take this experience away. He couldn’t turn back time or pretend that everything was going to be all right.
So he did the only thing he could do. He slipped an arm around her back.
Every muscle in her tensed for a moment before she relaxed and fell into his side.
The questioning cop shot Zach a curious look that stopped at the badge hanging on the chain around his neck. “I don’t suppose you saw his face?”
“No. He had a full black helmet on.” Sidling closer to Zach, she squeezed her eyes closed. “About half a mile back he pulled a handgun and shot at my window. It shattered, and I couldn’t see much else from then on.”
She sounded so cool about the whole thing, her voice steady. So why was his grip around her waist tightening? He’d nearly lost his case—his only lead on the missing baby.
At least that’s the answer he was going to give himself.
“But I know I heard another shot, and that’s when the tire blew, and we crossed the center line.” Her whole body shivered.
“All right. We’ll want to get you into the station to see if you can identify the bike.”
“I’ll make sure she comes in this afternoon.” Zach hadn’t said anything else, but he had to do something to make her stop quivering, and the only thing he knew to do was to take charge.
The uniform nodded, tipped his head and walked away. Despite the hubbub of slamming doors and an ambulance roaring to life, it felt like they were all alone in the world.
He turned her toward him, running his palms up and down her arms.
“Are you okay?”
She bit her bottom lip and offered a half nod, half shake of her head. “The paramedic said that I’m not injured. I’ll probably be a little stiff, but I’ll be fine.”
He dipped at the knees until their eyes were on the same level. “I didn’t ask if you were hurt, I asked if you’re okay. Are you holding it together?”
“I’m— It’s going to—” The shaking in her hands returned, fluttering her blanket. “I’m just a little shaken up. I’ll be okay.”
She was brave. Braver than he’d have been in the same situation. Braver than he was at the moment, when all he wanted to do was take her some place where she’d never be in danger again.
That just wasn’t an option.
No place was safe until they solved her case.
“All right. We’re going to go to the station and take a look at some motorcycle models to see if you can identify the one the guy who shot at you was riding. After that we’re going to go home and get your new clothes cleaned up.” He nudged the pile of soggy bags with his toe. Count on Samantha—even after a car crash—to rescue new clothes. “Then what would you like to do?”
She paused, the lines around her mouth disappearing as fear ebbed away like the gentle waves on the lakeshore. “I just want to go some place peaceful. Some place I don’t have to be afraid.”
He gave her elbow a gentle squeeze. “Can you give me a little more direction than that?”
She glanced toward the heavens, puffy white clouds floating across the blue sky like a cathedral. A slow curve of her pink lips replaced the thin line of anxiety that had held that position.
In her previous life, had she stood under a sky so perfect, so secure? Was there a memory locked deep inside under the same sun?
He couldn’t risk asking.
Because her answer would upset her even more. She didn’t know the truth any more than he did.
“I want to go to church.”
*
It wasn’t as though Julie cognitively recognized the building or the people, but something about Zach’s little community church was familiar. Maybe it was the way the older woman at the front door shook her hand and smiled. Or perhaps it was the gentle melody drifting from the baby grand at the front of the room.
Something felt right about being in church again.
Maybe it had been a while since she’d been inside a church building.
She couldn’t be certain, but as she sank into a padded chair, she let the peace and joy in the room settle over her, the weight that had been so heavy on her shoulders finally lifting.
Zach slipped in beside her, resting his arm on the back of her chair. “Is this what you were hoping for?”
“Exactly.” Well, almost. She smoothed her sheared locks down and offered a wavering smile. Even if they hadn’t told her that they cut her hair at the hospital, she’d have known that this style wasn’t her norm.
He followed the movement of her hand, and after a long second, reached up to run his finger from the top of her hair to her temple. “I like your hair like that. It suits you.”
Not the most romantic, as far as compliments went. Yet it set her heart fluttering in a brand new way. This wasn’t fear or uncertainty. She’d had enough of that lately to know the difference. This was…attraction?
Of course not.
Sitting up straight, she locked her gaze on the front of the sanctuary where a wooden cross hung behind a simple podium. She needed to focus on the cross, not the tingling line that traced the path of his fingers.
She couldn’t afford to be distracted by a handsome face. Even if that face had perfect features, a stunning smile and paralyzing brown eyes.
The accident the day before hadn’t been an accident at all. It was a warning, a threat. Another attempt on her life. Someone wanted her dead, and that someone might have taken the missing baby. Her hands began to tremble, and she clasped them together in her lap to keep them still.
It didn’t help.
They had to do something. They had to find that baby.
Well, Zach had to do something. She was still mostly useless, not even able to identify the motorcycle that had run her and Samantha off the road. And her memories of the night in the park were as locked up as ever.
She pulled away from the warmth of Zach’s arm, but he didn’t get the hint. He was still looking at her, still leaning in slightly as though waiting for something.
Like her response. “Um…thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. I mean it. You look really pretty.” He straightened his collar, his usual tie and jacket conspicuously absent, and glanced at his sister. Samantha had insisted on joining them after the E.R. doctor confirmed that she had nothing more than a bump on her head and a few bruises from the car accident. Reese and Keaton had attended Saturday services the night before, as they were both on duty that morning.
And knowing that the laughing brothers were somewhere out there watching over the city helped Julie breathe a little easier.
A rotund man with thinning black hair walked to the front of the stage. “Let’s all stand and sing hymn number three forty-two, ‘It is Well with My Soul.’”
Pulling the well-loved hymnal from the pocket in the back of the chair in front of them, Zach flipped it open just as the music swelled.
“When peace like a river attendeth my way… When sorrows like sea billows roll…”
Julie closed her eyes, letting the words rise in a melodic prayer. Lifting her face to the ceiling, she promised that no matter her lot, she would say, “It is well with my soul.”
Zach’s tenor harmony blended with her voice for four verses, and when they sat back down, even the bruise across her throat and chest didn’t hurt. This is what she’d missed. But for how long h
ad she been missing it? Had it been weeks or months since she sat in a chair like this? Was it possible she’d turned her back on the thing she needed most?
“You knew all the words to that song.” His voice in her ear made her jump. Or maybe it was what he said. A shiver raced down her spine, and she pressed a hand over her mouth.
She’d known the words.
All of them.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
That was the whole third verse, and she knew it. By heart. In her heart.
The lyrics were written there. Unforgotten and true.
Sitting up a little straighter, she let a smile creep into place. Zach offered her a matching grin and a squeeze of her hand as the pastor opened his Bible and set it on the lectern. The microphone crackled as he straightened it out before reading the selected scripture, but Julie didn’t hear a word of it.
She remembered.
She remembered!
It was only a start, true. But would the rest come back fast enough to help the missing baby?
*
At the benediction, Zach stood and led Julie toward the center aisle. He wanted to grab her hand and relive the flip of his stomach at her incandescent smile, but this wasn’t the place. And it certainly wasn’t the time.
His heart didn’t agree.
He just wanted to celebrate with her. The memories she’d longed to unlock had finally begun returning. He couldn’t keep silent at that.
The crowd flowed slowly down the row, church members stopping to chat here and there. When they were finally free of the single-file confinement, he stepped aside and encouraged Julie to step up to his side with a hand at the small of her back.
Suddenly her body stiffened and her eyes grew wide, unblinking.
“Julie? What’s going on?”
She remained motionless and silent, and he followed the line of her gaze until it landed on a young mother holding an infant wrapped in pink blankets.
“Kay.”
“You’re good?”
“No. The baby I was carrying. Her name is Kay.”
EIGHT
“What did you say?” Zach grabbed for Julie’s arm, not quite sure if he was using it to hold himself up or to keep her standing.
Julie didn’t turn away from the mom holding her child about fifteen feet away from them. Without blinking and with barely a twitch of her mouth, she whispered, “The baby. The missing baby. The one I was carrying.”
Yes, he knew who she was talking about. He needed more. He needed her to repeat the last thing she said.
“Her name is Kay.” She spoke in such a nonchalant tone that he had to shake himself alert. This wasn’t small potatoes, as his mom would say. This changed everything.
Still Julie didn’t move, so he turned to Samantha. “We’ll meet you in the parking lot in a moment. We just need a second.”
His sister cocked her head to the side, eventually nodding and returning to her route to the foyer. He didn’t waste time chatting with anyone else; instead he ushered Julie toward a small alcove off the side of the sanctuary. The little prayer room had emptied, and he guided her to one of the seats that lined the walls. She sank into it, and he dropped to his knees before her. His hands swallowed hers, but he kept his grip gentle, encouraging her to open up.
And then he waited. And he prayed.
Please, let her remember something else. Please, help her to remember. The words became his mantra while she remained transfixed on a distant point over his shoulder. Her jaw worked back and forth, back and forth as her nostrils flared and her hands began to tremble.
“Julie, can you tell me what you remember?”
She blinked once as though surprised to find him before her. Then tears gushed into her doe eyes, spilling down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. Grabbing a tissue from the package on a neighboring chair, he dabbed at the streaks, stroking her cheek with his thumb.
“Lonnie.”
What about Kay? he wanted to ask, but Julie began again before he could open his mouth.
“Lonnie couldn’t have even been twenty. She was so young. And she was scared. And she asked me to hold Kay. She said she’d be right back. She said she just needed to run an errand and couldn’t take her baby with her.” Julie’s lower lip began to quiver, and she chomped down on it even as her eyebrows pulled together. Lines around her mouth grew deep, something akin to pain flickered in her eyes. “I—I don’t think Lonnie came back for her baby. I don’t know what happened to he-er.”
Her sob ripped at his heart. There was nothing to do but pull her into his arms and whisper a prayer over her. But his words were illogical. They blended together into a mess. Thankfully his God was big enough to make sense of his mutterings.
Julie’s sobs shook her body, a damp spot growing in the notch between his neck and shoulder. Her hands fisted into the front of his shirt as he rubbed a figure eight into her back. His heart thudded in his own ears, but she didn’t seem to mind its heavy rhythm.
“You’re safe now. And we’ll figure out what happened to Kay.”
It could have been ten seconds or ten minutes that he held her, but eventually she pulled away, sniffing loudly. Without pretense she blew her nose and hiccupped twice before meeting his gaze again.
His arms felt empty. Strange. They hadn’t been like that before. Before he’d calmed and soothed her.
“Can you—” He cut himself off, searching for the right phrase to get her talking again. Reminding her that she couldn’t remember much else wasn’t going to help. “What is it that scared you?”
“I was holding her. I had this baby in my arms, and when Lonnie didn’t come back, I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do. And I was afraid for her. I didn’t know what was going to happen to her. All of a sudden I was responsible for this little one, and I—” She held up her hands and shook her head.
He nodded. “I understand.” Now to get more information without letting her clam up. He took a deep breath through his nose, letting it out slowly through his mouth. Then again. And a third time until she followed suit. The cleansing breath seemed to clear her eyes. At least they focused on his face instead of the far wall.
“You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
“But Kay is out there somewhere without her mom.”
He nodded, the truth a knife to his gut. “You’re right. So let’s find her.”
“All right. How?”
“What did Lonnie look like? You said she was young. What else?”
Dark lashes fluttered closed, her lips pressed together. “She was wearing a hat. Like a baseball cap, but it was pulled low over her face. And all of her hair was tucked under it. And her scarf was pulled up clear to the tip of her chin. I think it was dark. Her face was shadowed.”
Well, that description was going to be about as useful as a fishing line without a hook. Trying to give her a smile that didn’t say what he was really thinking, he nodded. “What about baby Kay? What did she look like?”
Julie frowned. “Like a baby.”
“Right. But were there any distinguishing characteristics or birthmarks? What color was her hair?”
“Brown, dark.” She reached a hand to her cheek, running several fingers over her freckles. “And she had a red mark on her face. Almost square, right here.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “A birthmark or a bruise?”
She closed her eyes again. “I think it was a birthmark. It wasn’t purple. More like a strawberry mark.”
He reached to hug her, but he couldn’t risk indicating an end to the interview, so he let his arms drop to rest on her knees. But that seemed too intimate, too familiar. Letting them drop limply at his sides, he said, “Is there anything else? Where did you meet Lonnie?”
Panic flashed across her face. “I don’t k
now.”
“Okay, where were you when she gave you the baby to hold?”
The same apprehension, the same response. “I don’t know.” The tears returned, welling up and splashing down. “Why can’t I remember?”
When the urge hit him again, he didn’t hesitate to pull her close. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand over her hair and down the back of her neck. “But it’s coming back. At least you’re remembering something.”
She nodded into his neck, pressing her ear against his traitor heart, which insisted on picking up speed. He held her until she pulled away and stood. Rising slowly after her, he held a hand out toward the door. “Ready to go look for Kay?”
She nodded, gliding out of the room.
In the parking lot they met Samantha, who was leaning against his car, arms crossed over her chest. “What took you guys so…” Her eyes flew wide. “Hey, are you all right?”
“Yeah. Why?” She motioned to his shirt, and he looked down at the wrinkles over his chest and the damp, black marks on his shoulder. “We—We were— We just—”
Julie came to his rescue. “I remembered something.”
Samantha’s smile outshone the sun as she pulled Julie close. “I am so happy for you, Julie.” Pink dotted her cheeks. “Or is it something else?”
“Julie’s good for now.”
For now.
It wouldn’t be much longer before the rest of her memories came back. Until then, he’d follow every lead that she could provide. Whenever she could provide it.
*
For a Sunday afternoon the police station was awfully busy. Julie dodged the feet of a man in handcuffs slumped in a chair near the front desk. He tipped up his chin and puckered his lips, making a crude gesture. Cringing, she slipped nearer to Zach’s side.
Too much closer and they’d be sharing the same coat.
But there was something about the way he’d taken care of her during her meltdown at the church that confirmed her hopes. He was safe. And she was secure with him.
There was also something about the way he’d wrapped his arms around her that had stirred something else. Something that made her stomach flip and her heart race. Not fear. Not uncertainty.
Although she wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
