Alex held up her phone. “I can’t call 911 without knowing what’s going on,” she pointed out, angling her body to look past him.
“You won’t be able to get a signal on that phone this far away from the base unit.” He pulled his cell phone off his belt clip and tossed it to her. “Use this and stay here until I make sure everything’s okay,” he ordered, moving forward quickly but with an equal amount of caution. When he reached the fallen woman, he crouched down beside her but kept his gaze moving back and forth in the dim interior, alert for any signs of movement. “We’re going to get you help,” he murmured to the elderly woman, placing a hand on her arm. He mentally winced as he felt the chill of her skin and recognized the signs of shock. “Is there anyone else in the apartment?” he asked the woman.
The woman’s mouth opened and closed, but no words were spoken. She looked panicked when her gaze settled on the gun in his hand. She was paralyzed with fear.
“Don’t worry, I’m one of the good guys.” He smiled to reassure her.
“Ran away,” she gasped.
Dylan looked over his shoulder. “Call for an ambulance and report a breakin,” he told Alex. “Stay with her and do not move from this spot.”
Alex immediately dropped down by the woman while Dylan made a thorough tour of the apartment. He idly noted it was identical to Alex’s with one less bedroom, and the rooms were filled with dark antique furniture and plenty of fussy knickknacks. The contents of the coat closet had been tossed to the floor and the bedroom had also been searched pretty well. He hazarded a guess this was a professional job yet he knew pros weren’t known to be messy. He figured they’d been in a hurry or interrupted by the woman’s arrival. When he returned to the door, he found Alex seated on the floor cradling the woman’s head in her lap. She talked to the woman in a soft voice, assuring her help was coming even though the woman was now unconscious. She looked up with an unspoken question in her eyes. He shook his head silently, telling her he couldn’t find anything to identify what had happened.
She took a deep breath. A faint sheen of tears appeared in her emerald eyes. “No one was trying to rob her apartment, were they? Whoever was in here was looking for me. I live directly above her, so they made a mistake.”
Dylan hunkered down next to her. “We don’t know that,” he lied. But he didn’t believe in coincidence. A random breakin in Alex’s building, so close to her own unit, raised warning flags in his mind. He straightened up when the strident sound of sirens sounded in the parking lot. “I’ll guide them over here,” he said quietly before moving off.
Alex carefully moved her legs to a more comfortable position. “They’re coming now. They’ll take good care of you,” she assured the woman. She wished she knew her name, but even if she did have all her memory she might not have known it to begin with.
“Ma’am, we need to get in there.” A paramedic appeared by her side.
She looked up, slowly nodded and stood up. “She said she has a heart condition.” She was surprised to find her voice was trembling. She backed up and watched the paramedics quickly examine the woman, then gently place her on the gurney. One of them turned to her.
“Do you happen to know her doctor’s name or her next of kin?”
She shook her head. She glanced over and saw a black leather purse lying on its side and picked it up.
“Go ahead and check for an insurance card,” Dylan said, coming up. “Hey, Cooper,” he said, greeting one of the paramedics.
The paramedic inclined his head. “We need to get her in right away, her BP’s way low.”
“Her name is Mildred Bridger, she’s seventy-two years old and her doctor is Gerald Collins,” Alex announced, after finding the woman’s insurance card.
The paramedic named Cooper nodded. “We’ll have someone at the hospital contact him.” They wheeled the gurney out to the parking lot.
Alex stared at the two uniformed officers speaking to the residents spilling out of their apartments. She couldn’t imagine ever feeling so helpless—she had the sense she was usually in control. But now…
“Alex, did she say anything to you at all?” Dylan asked. “Did she say if she got a look at who attacked her?”
She started to shake her head, then reconsidered. “She was having a lot of trouble breathing. She only said that she had been to the hairdresser, and when she walked in two men were coming out of her bedroom. She screamed and one of them ran at her and pushed her to the floor.” She blinked rapidly. “She’s so frail, Dylan. She looks as if her bones would break if you just held on to her too tightly.” She gulped. “What if—”
“Hey, don’t think that way.” He wrapped his arms around her, warming her chilled heart with his embrace. “They’ll take good care of her at the ER. I’ll have someone talk to the people in the complex office to see if they have any contact numbers for her.” He glanced toward one of the uniformed officers and jerked his head in his direction. “You want to go over to the office and see if there’s any additional contact information for the victim?” he asked. “I’ll be up in 2C if you need me.”
Alex stood a short distance away and scanned the scattering of people clustered in front of the building, obviously drawn out by the excitement. She cupped her elbows with her hands as if she were cold. Not one person looked familiar to her, and no one approached her to chat about the incident. There wasn’t one sign of recognition among them. Hadn’t she made any friends while living here? Didn’t she know any of her neighbors by name, or stop to chat while picking up her mail or while using any of the park’s facilities? Or was she so busy at her office she never bothered with anything resembling a life?
Another, darker thought came to her. What if Mrs. Bridger’s attackers were still here? What if whoever had broken into the condo down here was mingling with the residents with the intention of blending in? If she didn’t recognize anyone out there, how would she know if she was looking at resident or foe?
“Come on,” Dylan said gently, directing her back toward the stairs. They slowly ascended, walking side by side.
“What happened to her is my fault,” Alex said as they walked inside.
“No, it isn’t, Alex,” he told her. “You didn’t tell anyone to break into her place and frighten her so badly. Things happen that you can’t control no matter how hard you try.”
She uttered a laugh that was as brittle as glass. “Control,” she repeated. “What a wonderful word that is. Do you know what it means?” She didn’t bother waiting for a reply. “It means the authority or ability to manage or direct. It means you are the one directing your life. Except right now I don’t have the authority to direct my life, do I?” Her voice rose in pitch. “I am at everyone else’s whim but not my own.” She breathed in deeply through her nose in an attempt to bring down the sense of hysteria swiftly rising up inside her. Even if she couldn’t control her life, she was determined to control her emotions.
Dylan stayed back as if he knew she didn’t want him near her. “We’re going to get these guys, Alex,” he said quietly. “I promise you that.”
She shook her head as she walked into the kitchen. “Do me a favor and don’t make any promises you might not be able to keep.” She looked down at her cat, who was obviously debating whether or not he wanted to gorge himself on more kitty kibble, but hadn’t followed through yet.
The cat yowled a protest and waved a paw. Grateful for the sense of normalcy, Alex opened a cabinet door and pulled out a packet of the cat’s favorite food and dumped it in a bowl. She placed the bowl on the floor, then began closing up the takeout containers and depositing them in the refrigerator. She froze when the doorbell chimed.
“It’s for me,” Dylan called out, letting in his fellow officers.
Alex wiped down the table and counters while keeping her ears pricked for any hint of conversation, but they spoke too softly for her to hear more than a word here and there. When Dylan walked into the kitchen there was a grim expression on his face. He tu
rned one of the kitchen chairs around and sat down, resting his arms across the back.
“Do you recall anything before you moved into this unit?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, really. Why?”
He appeared lost in thought for a moment before turning back to her. “The condo manager told us that Mrs. Bridger moved into her unit five months ago. You lived down there until six months ago when this two-bedroom was put up for sale. You wasted no time putting in a bid and selling your own.”
Alex felt the air leave her lungs in a cold rush. It suddenly became difficult to breathe, while brightly colored spots danced before her eyes.
Alex blindly reached out for something to grab on to before her legs gave out on her. She was vaguely aware of two hands firmly but gently guiding her to a nearby chair, then just as gently pushing her head down until her forehead rested against her knees.
“This wasn’t just some random burglary,” she whispered, as if afraid she might be overheard. “Whoever broke into that unit thought they were in mine. Oh, my God, Dylan, if she’s had a heart attack, it’s my fault.” Her voice was high-pitched enough to shatter glass.
His hand was warm and comforting against the back of her neck. “You can’t look at it that way, Alex,” he argued gently.
“But you are, aren’t you?” Her words were muffled against her knees.
“I don’t think anything is your fault, but I’m a cop, so it’s natural for me to be suspicious. Apparently there have been a few breakins in the area in the past six months. The manager thinks kids are breaking into houses and apartments and stealing whatever they can to fund their less-than-desirable hobbies. So we’ll look at both sides.”
Alex continued to breathe deeply through her nose and detected the faintest hint of a woodsy scent coupled with the warmer musk of male skin. She remembered when she used to fall asleep with her cheek nestled in the hollow of Dylan’s shoulder, his unique scent teasing her dreams. She wanted to leave this nightmare and return to a happier time. The need to escape grew so strong she felt she had to get away from him. She pushed herself off the chair and headed for the living room. When she sat in a corner of the couch, Clarence jumped up onto her lap and curled up against her. His purring was instant comfort to her battered nerves.
Dylan started to sit next to her, then veered off course and chose a nearby chair instead.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say they were looking for you, but for an object,” he said. “The coat closet had been ransacked and the contents of drawers and the closet in her bedroom were thrown around, but the jewelry left on the dresser was untouched. That alone says they didn’t find what they were looking for in your luggage or briefcase. With luck, we’ll find them dumped somewhere.”
“Fine, they’re looking for something, but I have no idea what. What do I have that’s so important they’d risk breaking in when it was still daylight?” Alex asked even though she knew Dylan wouldn’t have an answer for her. After all, she didn’t have an answer for herself. What was so important she was attacked for it?
Dylan stared at her with unsettling gray eyes. “That’s what I need you to tell me.”
She laughed without the least bit of humor. “Exactly what memory do you want me to tell you, Dylan? That I know where I hid something I don’t even remember having? That I live in a condo I don’t remember purchasing? That I’m looking at a man I don’t remember divorcing?”
Dylan settled back in his chair. “Calm down, Alex. Let’s get back to what happened at the airport. Your suitcase and briefcase were taken, which means our perps thought this mysterious item was in one of them. Clearly they were wrong. Any idea at all what it could be?”
“Believe me, I wish I knew. Do you know what I did today? I looked up selective amnesia on the Internet.”
“And?”
“And what I read was pretty much what the doctor said last night. There’s no time frame for how long it lasts and sometimes lost memories never return. And there’s no way you can force them to return. You can only hope for the best.” Her fingers stroked a spot behind Clarence’s ear, increasing his purring. The cat turned his head, looking irritated when she suddenly stopped. “They’ll find fingerprints in the condo.”
“If we’re lucky, we will. Pros can search the place without you even knowing they’d been in there, and they would have worn gloves. I think these guys were in a hurry, which is why there’s such a mess in there. I’ll be notified if any fingerprints or other evidence is found.”
“Can you find out about that woman, Mrs. Bridger?” she asked, feeling guilt that she was the cause for the older woman’s pain.
Dylan nodded. “I’ll see what I can find out. One of the officers accompanied her to the hospital in case she comes to and can give us any additional information.”
Alex glanced at the clock. She was stunned to see it had only been a couple of hours since everything had erupted downstairs. She felt exhausted, as if it had been much longer than that.
How could so much turmoil happen in less than twenty-four hours? She only had to look at her surroundings to realize she lived an orderly life. Nothing was out of place. She wondered why she kept the cat.
“Was there a reason why I was the one to take Clarence?” She enjoyed the solace the cat’s warmth offered her.
Dylan looked uncomfortable by her sudden segue. “I don’t keep a regular schedule, so we decided that it would be better if Clarence stayed with you.”
Why did she feel as if there was more to the story than the few words he’d just related? Alex knew her memory was faulty right now, but she didn’t doubt her intuition. She knew Dylan was holding something important back.
She thought back to the morning the cat chose them as his human caretakers, marveling that she could recall everything except the last two years of her life. “He had that funny little wiggle walk when he was a kitten,” she mused. “And such a whimsical expression on his face.”
“That’s why you said he should be named Clarence, after the angel in It’s a Wonderful Life.” A hint of pain crossed his face as he appeared to be lost in the past.
She silently questioned his expression and what it might mean. Was she the reason for that remembered pain? “That’s right. We saw the movie at that funky old movie house the night before. It played Christmas movies all that week.”
Dylan nodded. She couldn’t miss his expression. She swore he looked as if he would rather discuss anything but their time together as man and wife. She already knew he wasn’t about to discuss the end of their marriage, either.
She wanted to ask him where they went wrong, but she held back. With a woman’s life perhaps hanging in the balance, she didn’t feel the timing was right to talk about their personal lives.
“Could you call the hospital and see if they’ll tell you anything?” she asked again.
Dylan’s expression softened. “Sure.” He pushed himself out of his chair and walked into the kitchen.
Alex heard him greet someone by name before he lowered his voice so she couldn’t hear anything. She watched her fingers slowly sweep across the top of the cat’s head. She found the motion soothing but sensed this wasn’t something she did on a regular basis.
“Did we sit here a lot in the evenings?” she whispered to the cat even if she knew she wouldn’t receive an answer.
Dylan returned to the room, clearly bearing bad news.
“She’s in surgery,” he explained. “I also learned that one of the neighbors saw two men running from the building around the time Mrs. Bridger’s screams were first heard. The neighbor is talking to a sketch artist. When the sketch is finished I want you to look at it and see if the two men look familiar to you.”
“Won’t the amnesia make it difficult for me to recognize them even if I did allegedly know them?” she asked. “I don’t recognize any of my neighbors.”
“Maybe because you weren’t known to have anything to do with them,” he muttered. “You pretty much stayed to yo
urself.”
Alex leaned forward, almost upsetting the cat from her lap. Clarence uttered a feline snort of disgust and stalked over to the other end of the couch. “What do you mean I didn’t have anything to do with them? I live here. I would think I would have spoken to at least one person living here.” A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
From the way Dylan looked her square in the face she already knew the answer.
“Janet said I worked a lot of hours in the office,” she murmured. “I’m amazed the cat even recognized me.” She felt that sick feeling intensify. “I have something to do.” She slowly rose to her feet and headed down the hallway.
“It will get easier, Alex.” Dylan’s soft voice followed. “I realize you’re feeling confused now, but before you know it things will start to fall in to place.”
For a moment, she seriously thought about not responding. Except something inside her advised her not to ignore his well-meaning, but in her eyes, ridiculous, advice. She slowly turned around.
“No, Dylan, you cannot realize even a fraction of how I feel,” she said softly. “I may as well have been dropped onto another planet because I’m thrust into a world I don’t feel comfortable in.” She glanced at her surroundings and swallowed the lump that threatened to suffocate her.
Dylan leaned forward in his seat, resting his laced fingers on his knees. “If I could give you your life back, Alex, I would,” he said quietly. “You were happy with what you had before.”
I was happy without you in my life?
The idea jolted her. Was Dylan happier on his own? She blinked rapidly to stop the threatening tears. Something else she didn’t feel familiar with. She was experiencing too much emotional overload.
“I’m very tired. I’m going to take a bath and read in bed,” she finally managed to say in what sounded like a normal voice. “I need to be alone.”
“I’ll be out here if you need anything.”
She nodded jerkily and turned around. She walked down the hallway to her bedroom. Every step of the way she hoped Dylan would follow her, wrap his arms around her and assure her everything would be all right. But that wasn’t going to happen. They were divorced and now led separate lives.
Memories After Midnight Page 7
