IMPATIENT, RYAN SHOVED the CT scan onto the view box and studied it. No big surprises. Her brain was uniform and the ventricles were normal, no sign of a bleed.
Not that he’d expected the scan to show anything significant, but he’d insisted Tess have the head CT anyway. He believed in covering all the bases.
He glanced at the screen showing a camera view of Tess lying on the table waiting for them to tell her she could get up. Her eyes were closed, her lips, pink and lush and lightly parted as if she were sleeping. There was no panic in her relaxed limbs.
The technician turned in his chair to check and make sure Ryan didn’t have any last-minute instructions before he told Tess that the examination was complete. Ryan shook his head and headed for the door leading to the examination room.
Inside, he hit the light switch and Tess turned her head.
“Everything looks good,” Ryan reassured her.
Tess nodded and jumped gracefully off the table. As she bent down to scoop up the striped cotton robe lying across the back of a chair, a section of her gown parted and allowed him to see the smooth glide of her skin and the line of her backbone. He’d never thought of a cotton hospital gown as particularly sexy, but somehow Tess had made it seem that way.
He jerked his thoughts off that particular track. Better to keep focused on Tess’s mind, not her body. Anything else would lead to trouble. The kind of trouble he didn’t need now or anytime in the future.
“So, no idea why I can’t remember anything?” she asked as she shrugged into her robe.
Ryan shook his head, trying to ignore the twinge of regret as she cinched the robe around her slender waist. “Not a clue. Sorry. But then I wasn’t really expecting to find one. I ordered the scan as a precaution only.”
“I take it that’s a good sign.”
“It is.” Ryan motioned toward the door. “Why don’t you go get dressed and have a seat in the waiting room. I’m going to go over the scan with the neurologist on call. At this point, I’m going with the diagnosis of a mild concussion. We’ll see what he has to say.”
Tess didn’t move. “Then why can’t I remember who I am? I’ve had a concussion before and didn’t lose my memory.”
“When was that exactly?” Ryan probed.
Tess tilted her head, those exquisitely clear eyes unfocusing slightly as she accessed the memory. “I was rock climbing and my rope slipped. I fell about ten feet and hit my head on the rock face. Got a nasty bump and a real shiner.” She stopped, and her green eyes cleared. She locked gazes with him. “How did you do that—get me to remember like that?”
Ryan smiled. “Your memories are still all intact. Something is just blocking you from getting to them.”
Her shoulders tensed, as if she was ready to rev up for some kind of unforeseen battle. “So how do I unblock them?”
“You don’t.” Ryan reached out and touched her shoulder, trying to impart some comfort. A zing of awareness shot through him, but he kept his face carefully neutral. “The more you try to force your way through the wall, the stronger it gets. You and I are just going to have to find a way around it.”
Frustration flickered in her eyes, and her fingers tightened into fists at her sides. “Why can I remember the fall but not my name?”
“Relax, Tess. You’re trying too hard. Let the memories come back on their own. You haven’t lost them—they’re all still there.”
She yanked on the belt of her robe, cinching it tighter. The tops of her knuckles turned white. Her agitation was clear. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who can’t remember if you like cream in your coffee or mustard on your hot dog.”
Ryan laughed. “Food jokes. Something tells me that you’re hungry again.” He pulled two doughnuts wrapped in a napkin out of his jacket pocket and offered them to her. “I happen to have these. I thought you might get hungry later. Want one?”
Tess accepted the doughnuts and slipped them into the pocket of her robe. “Not at the moment, but I’ll be keeping a close eye on them.” She glanced toward the technician’s booth. “What now?”
“Why don’t you go get dressed. When I’m done talking to the neurologist, we’ll go to my office and talk for a while?”
“Oh, so now you get me on the couch.”
“No, just a comfortable chair.” He flashed her an easy grin.
“I already told you I’m not in the market for a shrink.”
“Fair enough. We’re only going to talk. Decide on what you want to do next, okay?”
She nodded and then headed for the small dressing cubicle across the hall. After she was out of his sight, Ryan leaned down to pick up the sheet that had fallen to the floor.
“Where is she?”
The voice broke into Ryan’s thoughts. He glanced up to see Sidney Bloom, his boss, standing in the doorway. The light from the brightly lit hall silhouetted his stubby figure.
In spite of being a few inches short of five feet seven inches and on the plump side, Sidney never had to work to gain anyone’s attention. When he walked into a room, people sat up and took notice.
“I assume you mean the young woman I brought in a little while ago?” Ryan said, draping the sheet over the back of the chair.
Sidney nodded, his bald dome catching the light. He didn’t appear happy. In fact, he looked downright peeved. Ryan sighed inwardly. Only on the job a few weeks and he already had his boss breathing down his neck for some perceived infraction. Sad fact was, it made him feel right at home. Breaking infractions seemed to be his lot in life lately.
“She’s across the hall dressing.” Ryan cocked his head. “Who mentioned to you that she was here?”
Sidney smiled. “This is my facility, Ryan. I know everything that goes on here—especially when patients are admitted without my approval.”
“She sustained a mild concussion, Sid. She needed to be checked out. The closest medical center is over two hours away.”
The door behind them opened and a petite redhead poked her head in. “Someone in here request a consult from the neurologist on call?”
Before Ryan could answer, Bloom angrily waved the woman off. She shot a quick glance of sympathy in Ryan’s direction before closing the door again.
“I requested a consult with Dr. Adams.”
“You don’t have time to waste treating patients, Ryan. That isn’t why I hired you.”
“I thought you told me you were working on fostering good relationships between the center and the townspeople?”
Bloom’s lips tightened. “Chief Cole tells me this woman isn’t from Half Moon and isn’t cooperating with his investigation. How exactly is that helping the relationship between the center and the town?”
Ryan didn’t have an answer for that, but the fact that Cole had already gotten to Bloom told him that most of his avenues of defense were cut off anyway.
“I’ll take over the treatment of this patient,” Bloom said with an air of authority. “I want you to focus on the reason I brought you here in the first place—your research.”
The demand angered Ryan. He wasn’t about to ditch Tess right now. She was just beginning to trust him, and he had a strong feeling that trust was a major issue with this woman. Abandoning her now was more than therapeutically dangerous; it was downright unethical.
ACROSS THE HALL, Tess stepped tentatively into the small waiting area. The receptionist glanced up and gave her a chilly smile before resuming typing at her keyboard.
Hoping she wasn’t in for a long wait, Tess plopped down on the couch and grabbed a news magazine off the pile sitting on the coffee table. She restlessly started leafing through the magazine and stopped at a page. A picture of a grisly-faced man with tattooed arms stared out at the camera from between heavy bars. “Waiting For Clemency” was the title.
A quick skim of the opening paragraph told Tess that it was an article about a man on death row. Wonderful. Nothing like a little light reading to calm her already-jangled nerves.
> She flipped the page and came face-to-face with a picture of the death chamber—a stark white room with a stretcher in the middle. Padded straps crisscrossed the thin mattress, ready to clamp some death-row inmate to the table.
Tess’s fingers tightened on the edges of the slick paper. The pages of the magazine started to shake, and a jolt of terror shot through her. A strange, searing flush blazed across the surface of her skin, and the page ripped beneath her suddenly sweaty hand.
Her head dropped back, bumping the wall. Her vision seemed to darken along the edges. Suddenly, it was as if she was strapped to the table and pain coursed through her body. The straps seemed to tighten over her bare limbs and she strained against them, fighting them. Her back arched off the table as the leather cut into her flesh.
She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The magazine dropped from her nerveless fingers and her entire body shook violently.
“Miss!” A voice cut through the pain of the nightmare. “Are you all right, miss?”
Numbers, the color of shiny brass flashed in front of her eyes—5-6-8-7. They drifted and floated as if carried on a current of air. Hovering over her, Tess could see the outline of a small ghostly figure. Then, from somewhere far away, she could hear the roar of a crowd.
She frowned, straining to hear. She was seeing people. People cheering someone. Calling his name. She strained harder, trying to make out the name. But the cheering died away, and the corner of the dream folded and disappeared.
Tess opened her eyes to find the receptionist standing over her, an expression of concern on her tight, narrow face. “Are you okay, miss?”
Tess leaned forward and wiped the palms of her sweaty hands along the sides of her legs, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling. Her hair fell over her shoulders and hid her face. “I—I’m fine,” she said, her voice raspy and uneven to her own ears.
“I thought you were having a seizure,” the woman said.
Tess swallowed. Her mouth had become so dry that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Speech was near impossible.
What had happened? Sucking in a mouthful of oxygen, Tess peeked through the curtain of hair falling over her face. She watched as the woman bent down and snatched the magazine up off the floor.
“I’ll have to throw this out. The entire article has been destroyed,” she said.
Tess grabbed the arm of the couch and levered herself up off the cushions. Her knees quivered, and she almost fell over backward. But she locked her knees and straightened up. Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades and ran down the column of her spine, pooling in the small of her back.
“I’m sorry. I guess I got a little dizzy.” She reached up and wiped a line of sweat off her forehead. “Please tell Dr. Donovan that I had to leave.”
Concern flickered across the secretary’s pinched face. Tess was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fact that her face was probably the color of rice paper. More than likely the woman was simply worried she’d be somehow blamed for Tess’s sudden departure.
The receptionist touched Tess’s elbow with her perfectly manicured nails. The hard tips skittered across her skin, giving her goose bumps. “Why don’t you sit back down, dear. I’m sure Dr. Donovan will be finished very soon and you can tell him yourself that you’d like to leave.”
“Tell Dr. Donovan I got tired of waiting,” Tess said, trying to tamp down her rising hysteria. She had to get out of there.
The woman protested further but Tess ignored her, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Her breath came in short pants. By the time she reached the door leading to the hallway, her shirt was plastered to her body with a fine sheen of perspiration. Amazing how quickly a person’s body went into hyperdrive.
She yanked open the door and stepped out into the empty corridor. She could barely breathe, hot air catching in the back of her throat. She ran the palm of her hand along the cool wall, attempting to steady herself.
Seeing the scowling secretary standing in the doorway Tess took off. Rushing for the front door, she felt her legs grow steadier with each stride. She hit the release bar of the door with an urgent smack and the door swung open. A slight tickle at the back of her neck made Tess glance over her right shoulder.
The receptionist was still framed in the office doorway, but now two men in dark suits flanked her. In spite of the fact that they were inside, both men wore mirrored sunglasses, their facial features frozen, unreadable. The woman whispered something to the one on her right, and he nodded, his head never moving from staring straight at her.
Tess tried to ignore the chill that swept through her as she turned and walked out into the warm afternoon.
Chapter Three
Ryan was more than frustrated, he was royally ticked off. Not only was Sidney Bloom telling him that he wasn’t permitted to treat Tess, he was outright ordering him to turn her case over to him.
It had been a long time since Ryan had felt the need to acquiesce to Sidney Bloom. He might respect the man as a teacher and benevolent mentor, but sometimes one had to step out of the shadow of the teacher. Ryan was sure now was that time.
But before he could speak, the door behind them swung open. Mrs. Mackie—the waiting-room receptionist—stood in the doorway, her face the picture of frosty disapproval. “I thought you should know that the young woman you brought in just left.”
“What you mean she left?” Ryan said.
“Just what I said. She got up and walked out.”
Bloom scowled. “Well, where did she go?”
Mrs. Mackie glanced in Ryan’s direction, an accusatory expression on her narrow face. Obviously, she didn’t appreciate her boss’s irritation and blamed Ryan.
“She wasn’t exactly forthcoming about her plans. When I tried to convince her to stay until you were done talking, she got quite rude.”
“Did she seem upset? Confused?” Ryan asked.
Mrs. Mackie stiffened. “I have no idea, Doctor. She was reading a magazine and then, all of a sudden, she started to shake and tremble so violently I thought she might be having a seizure.”
Concern ripped through Ryan. “And you let her just leave?” he demanded. “What’s the matter with you?”
Mrs. Mackie stiffened, her lips tightening. “I resent your tone, Doctor. She was angry, and I didn’t feel it was my place to wrestle with her. I notified the front gate as soon as she left. I knew they’d make sure she didn’t leave without prior authorization from Dr. Bloom.” She sniffed. “Besides, she’s your responsibility, not mine.”
“Damn right she’s my responsibility,” Ryan said, starting for the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Bloom. “If there was any question up to this point of who would be taking care of Tess’s case, I hope this settles it. It’ll be me!”
Bloom shook his head. “You’re losing your objectivity, Ryan. I can hear it in your voice. You can’t save every young woman who walks through the door as a way of making up for the mess in Boston.”
Ryan clenched his hands and fought against the swell of anger rising in the back of his throat. “My desire to help Tess has nothing to do with Boston.”
“Go ahead and tell yourself that,” Bloom said, “but you and I both know that you’re still battling intense feelings of guilt.”
Ryan pushed aside a twinge of self-doubt. “I don’t have time to argue. I’m going after her.”
He left, ignoring Bloom’s parting shot, “Don’t get in over your head, Ryan. I’ve already thrown you one lifeline. There aren’t any more left.”
LESS THAN A MILE down the road, Ryan spotted Tess. She was running. A wild, full-out run of pure, unadulterated fear. Her legs pumped madly, and her calf muscles stood out in sculpted relief, eating up the road with a long, graceful stride.
Slowing down, Ryan pulled up beside her, the passenger-side window down. “You always leave a place in such an all-out rush?”
She slowed and then stopped abruptly, her feet skidding in t
he loose gravel. He had to slam on the brakes to keep from sailing past her.
She bent over to catch her breath, thick strands of finely spun gold strands sliding over her shoulders to shield her face from him. She flipped it back and then turned her head sideways to glance at him. Tiny beads of sweat peppered her forehead and damped her hair along the sides of her face.
“Along with hating doctors, I’m not real partial to hospitals,” she said, her breath already calming. Ryan realized that she might not have any memory of who she was, but she was in phenomenal physical shape. A marathon runner, with perfect breath control and recovery.
“So pretend I’m a friend and I stopped to pick you up.” He reached across and opened the door. “Get in. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. No need to hoof it.”
She didn’t move. The late-afternoon light hit the green of her eyes, making them sparkle and creating an odd tightening in Ryan’s chest. Damn but she was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. The kind of beauty that took a man’s heart, squeezed it so tight it pounded in protest and never allowed it to return to normal. He felt as though she’d done that to him with a single glance.
Perhaps Bloom was right. Perhaps he was involved for no other reason than that he was attracted to her.
“I have no intention of going back there.”
Ryan sighed. “I’m not stupid, Tess. I definitely get the message that you don’t like hospitals. Personally, I think you’re making a mistake. But no one, least of all me, will force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
A tiny shimmer of relief flickered in the depth of her eyes, but it was gone almost before he’d noticed it. She worked hard to hide what she felt.
“Come on, get in. My place isn’t too far from here. We’ll go get something to eat,” Ryan urged. “We’ll talk. Figure things out.”
Emergency Contact Page 4
