Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  Gage inhaled the floral scent from Randi’s hair as it tickled his cheek, and he closed his eyes. There were no other women in the world like Randi.

  His lids flew open as she reached over his shoulder and flicked her fingers at the frame. “It could’ve been Jessica in that photo from the airport.”

  “Yeah, if she has a pink, sparkly scarf.”

  “There are plenty of pink, sparkly scarves in the world, too.”

  Gage replaced the photo and skirted the TV to reach another bookshelf. Someone had pulled books out helter-skelter and Gage made an attempt to line them up again. Randi’s friend didn’t need to come home from the hospital to find her apartment trashed. If she came home from the hospital.

  As he tipped the books back into place, his finger stumbled over the edge of a card sticking out from one of the books. He pinched it between two fingers and pulled it free.

  “It’s you.”

  “What?” she called across the room.

  “It’s a picture of you and Jessica. So if we had any doubt before that she’s your friend and sent you that note, it’s just been erased.”

  She joined him and he handed the photo to her. She brought it close to her face and he aimed the flashlight at the picture.

  Tracing a finger around the faces of the two smiling young women standing in front of some kind of ruins, Randi said, “It is me.”

  “Flip it over. There’s some writing on the back.”

  Randi turned the picture over and read aloud, “Me and Randi, Cozumel.”

  Randi’s hand started to tremble and a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “What is it? Do you remember anything?”

  She shook her head and the tear changed course toward her ear. “That’s just it. I don’t remember anything, but I had a life. I had friends. I had family. Now I have nothing.”

  She sank to the floor, clutching the photo to her heart.

  Gage crouched beside her and gathered her in his arms. All the danger and excitement had almost made him forget that Randi was a woman with no memory, no past, no life.

  Except this life with him.

  He kissed the tears from her cheeks. “You have me, Randi. I’m going to be with you all the way.”

  “Sorry.” She rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. “Crying and carrying on doesn’t help the situation at all, does it?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes it helps.”

  She struggled to her feet. “The least we can do for my friend is straighten up her place while we’re searching so she’s not freaked out when she comes back.”

  “I agree.” He shined the light around the room. “Too bad there’s no computer.”

  “Zendaris’s guys probably stole it.” She took a turn around the room and headed for the bedroom. “Even if I did discover my identity and my home, I wouldn’t go there now. They’re probably staking it out.”

  “You’re probably right.” He came up behind her and squeezed the back of her neck. “If you discover you don’t like your current career, you could always become a spy. You’re catching on fast.”

  Clothes tumbled out of Jessica’s drawers and closet, and he and Randi searched the pockets and folds for anything the intruders may have missed. More books littered the nightstand, but the drawer of the nightstand contained nothing but a few condoms and sex toys. “Too bad there’s no diary or address book.”

  Randi held up one of the condoms between two fingers. “Maybe Jessica has a boyfriend.”

  “I think we need to pay her a visit in the hospital. If she does have a boyfriend, maybe we’ll run into him there.”

  They searched the rest of the room and the bathroom, but found no other clues to Randi’s identity. If Jessica had kept any information about Randi, it had all been sanitized from this apartment.

  Zendaris must know by now that Randi had amnesia and he intended to keep it that way until he could get to her himself.

  When they finished their search, Gage turned out the lamp and they slipped into the hallway and down the stairs.

  “The neighbor said St. Joseph’s, right?”

  “She did.” Randi pulled out the photo again and studied it as if trying to read her past in the face of the girl she once was. She tapped the picture against her fingers. “At least it looks like we were having fun.”

  “And you will again.”

  Had that fun-loving young woman met an intriguing older man and gotten carried away with the excitement? Gage still had a hard time reconciling the Randi he knew with the woman in the picture with Zendaris. How could someone like Randi get swept up in the jet-setting lifestyle of Zendaris?

  If it weren’t for that distinctive pink scarf, he could easily believe that Randi had been in Zendaris’s household for a different purpose than to warm his bed.

  Gage clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He didn’t know what filled him with more rage, the fact that Randi had belonged to a man like Zendaris or the fact that Zendaris had discarded her like a piece of trash.

  He parked in the hospital lot, and they entered the lobby. Even on a Saturday night, a volunteer was manning the information desk.

  Randi said, “We’re looking for a friend of mine who had an accident a few nights ago. She’s in a coma.”

  The clerk’s brow furrowed. “I’m so sorry. Recent coma patients would be in the intensive care unit. That’s on the fifth floor. You can check with the nurses’ station there.”

  They thanked her and headed toward the elevator.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Randi. You probably can’t see her unless you’re family.”

  “You said I could pass for family. I’ll give it a try.”

  When they got to the nurses’ station, Randi hunched over the counter to get the attention of a nurse at a computer. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Jessica Lehman’s room.”

  The nurse punched a few more keys and then swiveled her chair to face them. “And you are?”

  “I’m Randi Lehman, her cousin.”

  “Hmm.” The nurse screwed up her face and wheeled back to the computer. “You haven’t been here before, have you? I’ll have to check your name against the list of approved family and friends.”

  “I’m sure I’m on the list.” She crossed the fingers of her right hand. “Jessica and I are like this.”

  The nurse squinted at the display. “Lehman, Lehman. I have a few Lehmans but not a Randi.”

  “Who’s on there? I have to be on there. Can you read me the names?”

  Good idea, Randi.

  “Ma’am.” The nurse walked her chair back to the counter. “I can’t give you those names and I can’t let you into the room without authorization.”

  Randi opened her handbag and pulled out the photo. “Here’s proof—a picture of me and Jessica. I’m family. I need to see her.”

  Randi waved the picture under the nurse’s nose, but the nurse didn’t even look at it.

  “Miranda!”

  Gage glanced up at a middle-aged woman coming toward the nurses’ station. The woman called out in a loud voice again. “Miranda!”

  Gage’s gaze tracked along the empty hallway and darted back to the nurses behind the counter. Nobody else looked up.

  Randi was still arguing with the nurse.

  “She’s my cousin and I demand to see her.”

  “Ma’am...”

  “Miranda!”

  The woman reached the nurses’ station and grabbed Randi’s arm and shook it. “Miranda.”

  Randi dropped the photo and spun around, her eyes wide. “You know who I am?”

  The woman’s brows knitted. “Of course I do. You’re Jessica’s best friend, Miranda Lewis.”

  * * *

  I HAVE A NAME.

  Randi braced herself against the counter for support as her knees buckled, but she didn’t need it since Gage had placed a steadying hand on the small of her back to lend his support—just like always.

  “What’s wrong, Miranda
?” The woman patted Randi’s hand lying limply on the counter. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  Randi worked her jaw but she couldn’t form any words.

  Gage took over. “Ma’am, are you Jessica’s mother?”

  “Yes, I am, and who are you?”

  “I’m Randi’s friend, Gage Booker.”

  “From Colombia? I don’t understand. How did you hear about Jessica’s accident, Miranda?”

  “I—I...” How could she tell Jessica’s mother that she was the one responsible for her daughter’s accident? How could she explain anything?

  Gage slipped his arm through Randi’s. “Let’s talk in the waiting room. We have a few questions to ask you, Mrs. Lehman.”

  “It’s Bloom. Carrie Bloom.”

  A few knots of people had staked out different corners of the waiting room, and Gage gestured to a vinyl love seat near the coffeemaker. “Please, sit down. Randi has quite a story to tell you.”

  She did? Did Gage expect her to tell Jessica’s mother everything? She glanced at him and he quirked one eyebrow. Probably not.

  Randi sat beside Mrs. Bloom and folded her hands in her lap. “This is going to sound crazy, Mrs. Bloom, but until you told me my full name, I didn’t know who I was. I still don’t know who I am. I have amnesia.”

  Mrs. Bloom gasped and covered Randi’s hands with one of her own. “My God, Miranda. What’s happening to you two girls?”

  “I had an accident, too. I fell from a balcony in Colombia.” She touched her head where her hair covered the scab forming over her wound. “It’s a long story, but I didn’t know anyone there and nobody knew me. Gage, Mr. Booker, is in law enforcement. He’s been helping me.”

  “You must be so frightened. I can’t even imagine.” Mrs. Bloom put her hand across her forehead. “But then how did you know about Jessica? How did you learn about her accident?”

  “J-just some clues we followed, a note from Jessica. We were hoping to find more clues here, and you just gave me the biggest one—my full name.”

  Gage hunched forward, elbows on his knees. “We need your help, Mrs. Bloom. I know you have a lot on your plate right now.”

  “Nonsense.” She waved a hand. “I’ll help as much as I can. Jessica wouldn’t have it any other way. What do you need to know?”

  Randi closed her eyes and released a long breath. “What was I doing in Colombia?”

  Mrs. Bloom put her fingers to her lips and her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t even know that?”

  Randi shook her head.

  “You took your grandmother there, back to the village where she was born.”

  Mrs. Bloom’s words felt like a punch to the gut. “My grandmother? Does she live near Barranquilla? What’s her name? Does Jessica have her address?”

  “I’m sorry, Miranda. Your grandmother is dead. I’m afraid I never knew her name. Jessica always called her Abuelita. She was your mother’s mother, so her last name isn’t Lewis.”

  “She’s dead?” Could you grieve for someone you didn’t remember? “Do you know when she died?”

  “At least a year ago, I think.”

  “If she died over a year ago, what was I still doing in Colombia?” Randi chewed on her lower lip and shot a glance at Gage.

  “That I can’t tell you.” She patted Randi’s knee. “Jessica only mentioned that you were staying on there. If she told me why, I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

  Randi slumped in her seat. She could’ve very well stayed on in Colombia because she’d met Zendaris while she’d lived with her grandmother. “My parents?”

  “They’re dead. You don’t have any family in Houston, Miranda, at least none that I know of. I wish I could help you more. Once Jessica comes out of this coma, she can tell you everything.”

  By then it might be too late.

  Randi took the older woman’s hand. “I’m sorry I put you through this third degree when your daughter is lying in a hospital bed unconscious.”

  “Would you like to see her? Maybe seeing Jessica will jog your memory.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Are you getting help?” Mrs. Bloom’s gaze shifted to Gage and then back to Randi’s face. “Professional help?”

  “Yes. Yes, I am.” Randi pushed up from the love seat. “And now that I know my full name, I can probably fill in some details of my life. That’ll help a lot.”

  When Mrs. Bloom entered Jessica’s hospital room, Randi tiptoed in behind her. Gage waited in the hallway.

  The machines in the room hissed and beeped in stereo as another set of noises came from the other side of the curtain that divided the room. Clear tubes ran into the arms of the woman on the bed, her dark hair wrapped in a bun on top of her head.

  Mrs. Bloom pulled up a chair and waved Randi to the chair on the other side of the bed. “Miranda’s here, Jessica. Wouldn’t it be nice to see her again? She’s right here. Open your eyes.”

  Jessica’s dark lashes lay against her cheeks, and her hospital gown rose and fell with her steady breathing.

  Randi stared into her face, waiting for some sign, some jolt of recognition. She felt nothing but guilt for having brought this upon her friend.

  “Jessica?” Randi ran her fingertips down the warm skin of Jessica’s arm. “Please come out of this. I need you.”

  Mrs. Bloom pulled a book from her handbag and slipped her finger between the pages. “I’ve been reading to her. I have no idea if it helps or not, but I do what I can. I’ll put your name on the list of approved visitors, so you can come back.”

  Randi heard dismissal in Mrs. Bloom’s voice, and she didn’t blame her. Randi had come to Jessica’s bedside seeking answers instead of bringing comfort. And Mrs. Bloom didn’t even know the worst of it—that Randi was the reason for Jessica’s accident.

  Gage punched the elevator button. “No recognition, huh?”

  “No. Just a pretty, dark-haired woman in a coma.”

  “But we can do a search on Miranda Lewis, just like we did on Jessica Lehman. We should be able to discover something about you.”

  “Then I guess we’d better get back to that laptop.”

  As they walked past the nurses’ station, one of the nurses looked up. “Are you Randi?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Bloom is putting me on the list of visitors for Jessica Lehman.”

  “It’s not that.” The nurse held out a piece of paper pinched between two fingers. “Someone left this for you, a young man.”

  “Thank you.” Randi took the paper from the nurse and unfolded it with trembling fingers.

  “What is it?” Gage hovered over her shoulder and she held it up for him to read. “Randi, I can tell you all about yourself. Meet me in the cafeteria. Sergio.”

  Gage snatched the paper from her hands and spun back toward the nurse. “Who gave this to you?”

  Her eyes widened and she scooted her chair back. “A-a young man. He’d been around before, but he’s not on the list of approved visitors. Said he was Ms. Lehman’s boyfriend.”

  “What did he look like?” Gage crumpled the paper in his fist.

  “Are you a cop or something? He asked me to deliver a note to this young woman, and I did so. I didn’t have to do it, you know.”

  Randi stepped between Gage’s menacing stare and the defiant nurse. “He’s asked me to meet him, and I don’t know what he looks like. We just want to know who to look for in the cafeteria.”

  The nurse shuffled some papers and pursed her lips. “A young man with dark hair, curly. He was wearing a denim jacket.”

  “Okay, thanks. That’s all we wanted.” She grabbed Gage’s hand and pulled him toward the elevator. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you were going to bite her head off.”

  “I don’t like it.” He punched the button for the elevator twice, three times. “Who is this guy and how does he know you have amnesia? Why didn’t he step forward when you were talking to Jessica’s mother?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.”
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  The doors slid open and Gage smacked his hand against one side of the opening. “You’re not seriously considering meeting this guy?”

  “Of course I am. He knows me. He can tell me everything, or at least everything he knows.”

  “We don’t know that, Randi. How did he know you have amnesia? Mrs. Bloom didn’t know until you told her.”

  “The nurses probably heard me. There were people in the waiting room.”

  “We’ll stick to plan A. We’ll go back to the hotel room and do a search on the internet.”

  “That’s not going to tell me what I need to know. Someone who knows who I am is waiting in the cafeteria right now, and you can’t stop me from meeting him. If you wanted me to be a prisoner, you would’ve turned me over to Prospero, right?”

  “It’s foolish and dangerous to meet up with a stranger under the circumstances.”

  “I don’t have a choice right now, and besides, I’ll be in a public place with you by my side.”

  “Damn right.”

  His protectiveness made her feel safe, but maybe she’d be ready to stand on her own soon. Maybe with the information she gleaned today and the session with the mysterious Dr. Elle tomorrow, she’d be on the road to recovery and not be so dependent on Gage.

  They made a right turn off the elevator, following the signs to the cafeteria. Gage stepped through the doors first, his hand at his hip.

  Did he plan to burst into the cafeteria, guns blazing?

  Randi scanned the room, her stomach rumbling at the smell of some spicy chili. She pointed to the back of a man hunched over a table in the corner, curly, dark hair spilling over the collar of his denim jacket.

  Gage’s brows collided over his nose. “Why isn’t he facing the doorway on the lookout for you?”

  “Every little thing is suspicious to you.” She shoved her hands against his back. “Let’s see what he has to say. He’s not going to attack me here in the hospital cafeteria—especially with you growling at him.”

  They approached him, their shoes making squeaking noises on the just-mopped floor.

  Randi called out. “Sergio?”

  He didn’t turn around or lift his head, which was tilted forward.

  Randi circled the table. “Are you Sergio?”