Her Eyes

by Jennifer Cloud, Regan Taylor

  "Her memory is still a little fragile, and I'm concerned even the slightest thing could put her over the top again. I don't want her questioned today.” The doctor slowed his words, measuring them. Mike hoped his disappointment didn't show that much. “She did tell me her last name was Jameson and she's from Montana. That should give you something."

  Not what he was looking for, but he tried to keep his visit official. “Understood. I'll give you a call tomorrow to see how it's going. I'll run her through NCIC, WPS, and MUPS tonight and see if we get a hit.” Good. He could still keep the conversation official. He even found a reason to return.

  "Where?"

  "The wanted and missing person's systems."

  "I can see the missing, but wanted?"

  "Never know. Things happen. People do things and want to disappear so they pretend to lose their memory. They think it will keep the law from finding them. It can work for awhile.” He knew Claudia wasn't wanted. He'd watched her lying in that hospital bed. She was pure and perfect, but this doctor didn't need any further clues on Mike's interest in Claudia.

  "But this Claudia was attacked."

  "She may have made it look that way. There wasn't a match on her prints, which doesn't mean anything because if someone never had their fingerprints taken there's nothing to compare them to. Now that we have a name, or at least a name she's given us, maybe we can find out a bit more."

  "I'm sure you'll find she's really a sweet young woman who had something just awful happen to her."

  "We'll see. I'll check in tomorrow to see how she's doing.” He hated sounding so tough but he couldn't risk the doctor assuming a personal interest. “Good evening, doctor."

  Mike thought she was a sweet young woman, too. Damn he wished he could talk to her, at least see her eyes open and awake. Every day, after work, he visited the hospital. He kept the guise of being on official business, but the police never devoted so many man-hours to a lovely lady in the hospital.

  He could wait until tomorrow. The doctor had Claudia's best interests at heart. No matter how much he wanted to rush inside the room just to make sure she had woken up, just to see it for his own eyes, he could wait.

  "Everything okay, officer?"

  He hadn't realized that he'd been standing in the hallway. Even now, he didn't want to leave this mysterious woman's side. Of course, he'd also created a spectacle out of himself in the process.

  "The Jane Doe, I mean Claudia, do you know what personal effects she has?” He shuffled his feet, trying to keep his tone business-like. “There are a few donations centers nearby and I thought I could stop in and get her clothes or whatnot that she might need."

  "That would be so nice of you. She has nothing. The clothes she wore have long since been thrown out. I'm afraid all we managed here were a toothbrush and a comb."

  "I'll see what I can do. Do you know what size she wears?"

  The nurse smiled, a little too friendly. “I'll see. Just a second."

  Damn it all. Everybody looked at him like they knew he'd grown attached to Claudia. He had to stop being so obvious. He didn't need anyone questioning his motives. He didn't want anyone to tell him to stop coming.

  The nurse disappeared into Claudia's room. A few people came down the hall so Mike crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look agitated. No one wanted to mess with an annoyed cop. The ruse worked and no one spoke to him until the nurse reappeared, still grinning. She held up a small piece of paper and handed it to him.

  "Her sizes."

  "Thank you. I'll see if anyone has a few donations."

  "Sure thing.” She winked at him as if she knew exactly what was on his mind.

  "What?” He looked at the nurse but she didn't answer, only walked away.

  That nurse knew a little more than she admitted to. That was okay. He doubted she would make an issue out of it. As for donations, no way Claudia was going home with the flea-infested, worn-out donated crap. He'd venture to the mall for her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Frank walked the newest construction job. The eight-story structure was downtown, which limited the size. Under the new codes, the historic area had a limit of five-story maximum building height. Because the owner had greased a few palms, a special grant for eight been approved. With the proper permits, Frank could now get his people out here.

  This would be a difficult task because they were close to the courthouse. There was lots of traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian. That made getting supplies in and out more cumbersome. It never failed, people would stare at work in progress, drawn to it like moths to a flame. They would get in the way and make drop-offs a strategic nightmare.

  The job was technically starting next week, but he needed a little time away from everyone. Catherine was coming home from the hospital today, so Frank had gone by his attorney's office this morning. His guy specialized in building codes and business legalities, but his partner handled family law.

  He wasn't even going to bring Catherine home from the hospital. Jim was handling the chore for him. Catherine wouldn't be pleased, but with a little luck, the papers would be delivered to her tonight. She might be out of his life by next week.

  He had visited Catherine in the hospital, mostly to find out about the person who had been in the neighboring room. The nurses wouldn't release any information about the woman who had called out his name. He'd left a note, but doubted anyone had delivered it. If they had, the woman never responded. He had given his cell phone number, but it never rang.

  Even now, walking the site, he caught himself making eye contact with women, just to check for green eyes. Several of them had that color, but when he started talking to them, they practically ran away. His Pam was lost somewhere in this sea of people, if she had made it back into this world at all.

  The cell phone in his pocket vibrated, and he immediately pulled it out. He didn't recognize the number. Maybe, just maybe, it was the hospital. His Pam could have gotten the message. There was a chance she'd fought her way back and remembered him.

  "Please, please let it be Pam.” He hit the send button. “Hello."

  "Just what in the hell do you think you're doing having Jim come here to get me?” Catherine's acid tone filled his ear. How in the world had he tolerated her for so long?

  "I'm tied up at work. Let him take you home. I have a big surprise for you tonight. It's extra special."

  "It better be after everything you've put me through.” Her tone softened. Catherine was always a sucker for presents.

  "I promise. This will be the perfect gift."

  Frank ended the call. He'd fudged the paperwork just a bit, claiming that they'd been separated longer than they had. Of course, he included the time Pam had been with him.

  "What could I have done differently?"

  In the back of his mind, he couldn't help wondering if Pam inhabited a new body. She could be someone's wife, the mother of children, a woman bound to something he had no business breaking.

  Please remember me, Pam. Remember me and be able to be with me.

  He knew his thoughts wouldn't magically carry to her. He couldn't pull her back into his life. Still, he concentrated, trying to reach her across whatever void separated them. It was foolhardy. He'd been offered the world in Pam and she slipped away, not once but twice. All of the bad in his life, every bit of it seemed to link to Catherine and so he would eliminate the first of his problems.

  He started giving up hope for his sweet Pam. Perhaps he would meet her again someday. Even if she didn't remember him, he would know her and he would win her. Parsons, the walk-in guy, had told him that if he never found her, then perhaps they weren't meant to be after all. All this was after a repeat visit in which Frank questioned the man until even Parsons’ patience was at the breaking point. These things couldn't be forced. It was so hard not to try.

  Parsons. Interesting guy. If someone had told him two years ago, even a year ago, that he would believe in the supernatural, Frank would have thought it w
as a huge joke. Not so much now. Before Catherine tried to kill him, Frank was a total here-and-now type guy. He went to church, believed in a hereafter where good people went to heaven and bad ones went to hell. Now, while he wasn't sure it all really existed, that souls could come back and correct their mistakes and live new lives, it made sense and gave him comfort, at least where Catherine and Pam were concerned. A part of him wanted to believe there was a way for Pam to be back in his life.

  He had made a private appointment with Parsons, and much to his surprise, the man hadn't charge him for the visit. Parsons had said that for all his research, he'd met only a few people he thought were walk-ins. They usually came in and were confused, but there was little going back and forth between the two souls. Usually the one left and went on its way. This was the first time he actually had something akin to proof. Pam clearly wanted to be alive, and Catherine, well, that was hard to say. It was like she was ready to move on if it would make Frank unhappy, but if it wouldn't, then she would stay.

  The case with Catherine, Pam, and Frank was truly unique to him. He really believed that Frank was dealing with a walk-in coupled with unfinished karmic business. That in itself grew tricky. Catherine could be evil or a warped soul, too twisted to finish her task. Her core could be un-evolved, something like a bad toddler who knew no better. Because Catherine tried so hard to hold on, her true motivations would remain a mystery. Some people could be put on this planet just to torment others. Some may have dark business to complete in spite of how unpleasant it is. This left Frank with really no answers on Catherine. It seems “plain old bitch” was not a cosmic solution.

  Pam, however, was a different situation. It seemed Pam had never changed from the girl Frank knew in high school. She'd been a good person, one of those rare, truly good people then and despite her horrible marriage. How she'd ended up with her husband, Charles Banner, Frank would never know. From what Frank had learned from reading back in the newspaper and police blotters, Banner was not only abusive to Pam, but had less than savory business practices. Fraud, grand theft, arson. The man was a walking penal code violation, yet he always seemed to manage to avoid prosecution. At least until he attacked Pam. That put him in prison with no hope of freedom.

  But the news didn't seem so good for Frank and Pam. Parsons really thought that Pam was gone. That she had done all she could do or had to do. There were no more lessons for her and nothing she could do to help someone else. For all Parsons’ wild ideas, he found it doubtful that Pam would even find a second body to inhabit. Not that it was impossible, but Parsons thought it highly doubtful.

  "What about her right to love and be loved?” Frank had asked him.

  Parsons’ answer was less than satisfying. “In the light she has nothing but love, true, unconditional, and unlimited love. You'll see her again, I promise you, you'll see her again."

  "When?” Frank wanted a date, time, and location. No more mumbo-jumbo. He wanted to know where to pick Pam up and take her home, but Parsons hadn't been very helpful there either.

  "When your time comes to join her."

  That sounded like death and the ever-after. Frank would almost do it for her, but to be honest, he wasn't good enough to find heaven or nirvana or whatever else people called it. With his luck, he would go straight to hell, which ironically would be him married to Catherine. All he could do was make the best of his life now. That meant living and not simply getting by to honor a marriage vow to an adulterous bitch.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  For the next two weeks, Mike brought Claudia gifts. At first, she didn't know what to think about the officer with his odd questions one minute and puppy dog expressions the next, but she eventually found him enchanting. His first gift was a proper nightgown to sleep in along with a robe so she could walk the halls. He also brought her a bag full of books. It embarrassed him, but he purchased her panties and a bra. He obviously went beyond the line of duty. It didn't stop him from bringing her a couple of pairs of jeans and T-shirts.

  She loved his daily visits. They found out that before her injury she'd been staying at a hotel, one that had cleaned out the room she'd occupied. Whatever belongings she now possessed came from Mike. Her wallet had been found in a dumpster and had been turned into the lost and found at the Thirteenth precinct. Mike returned it to her, but only her driver's license remained. She didn't remember having credit cards anyway, only cash.

  Small details about her life returned. Tidbits but nothing substantial filled her mind. Oftentimes she wondered what was missing. It was like a word on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't find it. There was something important she'd forgotten. Oh well, if it were that important she would remember.

  In all the time, she'd been in the hospital, no one called. She wasn't sure whom she expected to call. She remembered that her grandmother had died and she'd fled Montana, hoping to find something more than mountains and sadness. Still, somewhere deep down, she thought someone was supposed to call her. Or there was someone she was supposed to be with. There was the feeling of loving and being loved, but nothing she could wrap herself around. Mike was comfort, but he wasn't that once-in-a-lifetime love.

  Mike was handsome. He had dark brown hair, cut a little too short. His face was handsome in that classic way with a little cleft in his chin. He wasn't one of those doughy cops either. He looked strong with broad shoulders. He just didn't seem like the person she was supposed to be with. She kept thinking that she belonged with a different guy, one with rougher hands and more rugged features. His hair would be a touch longer, and he would wear jeans and flannel shirts.

  "I wish I could remember."

  The only thing about her memory loss that upset Mike was the fact that she couldn't describe her assailant. The only time she watched rage pour over Mike was when he thought about the attack and the fact that no one could be prosecuted for the crime. He was certainly protective. She didn't mind. After so much chaos, it was nice to have someone watching out for her.

  The day of her release finally came. Claudia looked down at the clothes he'd provided, the shoes, and even the small duffle bag he'd brought for her to pack her things. Only one thing was missing. She had nowhere to go. Over the last few days, she had tried to keep a positive attitude, had tried to think about her future as bright, but really, it wasn't. All the money she had taken with her had been stolen. She couldn't take care of herself, or even pay the hospital bill that had to be enormous by now. She didn't even know how she would manage dinner.

  She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears of her uncertain life. For some reason she thought there was a purpose to her being here. That kept her spirits up most of the time, but waiting for her discharge papers with no place to go left her feeling sick. Now she waited for Mike's daily visit and the doctor's okay to go home.

  "Where do I go?"

  * * * *

  Mike listened at the door. The doctor had given him Claudia's discharge papers, but he hesitated going inside. She might decide to return to Montana. She didn't have anything or anyone here. That knowledge kept him pinned to the door, unwilling to face what could be his last few minutes with her.

  He tried to keep things professional. Despite his best intentions, he found himself attracted to the petite redhead with the gray-green eyes. He couldn't help but notice that with each of his visits she seemed to brighten a bit more. She was cute, funny—actually, she had a wicked sense of humor. He loved every moment he spent with her, although the feeling that something wasn't exactly right persisted. That was why he had offered to pick her up when he went off duty on the day of her release. That and his feeling there was so much more than met the eye, more than a woman with a lost memory from another state.

  "Claudia, your chariot awaits,” he said, pushing through the door.

  "Thank you, Sir Mike, that's so sweet of you."

  Her smile wasn't as bright today. Something dark passed through her beautiful eyes, pain or maybe sadness. It tore at him. Was she getting read
y to tell him goodbye? He tried to push that thought from his mind.

  "So where to?"

  "Ummm. You know. I wish I knew.” She sniffled hard and her cheeks looked a little pink, like she'd been crying. “I don't have a clue. Do you know of ... well, are there any decent boarding houses or the likes around here? Not too expensive because I ... well, the social worker got me some money, but until I find a job."

  Claudia wasn't leaving town. A warm feeling grew in his chest. This was the woman he wanted to take care of. Marriage wasn't in his plans. He hoped they would date, but every evening when he told her goodbye, he missed her. Maybe there was a way he wouldn't miss her so much.

  He opened his mouth to say it, then stopped. It wasn't proper and Mike had been raised to treat a lady with respect. This was an odd situation. He would go for it. “Actually, my roommate moved out about a month ago and I haven't had a chance to find anyone new so..."

  "No. Absolutely not!” Her stridency seemed to even surprise herself. “Ahh, geez, Mike, I'm sorry. I just not ready. We hardly know each other and ... and..."

  A small part of his mind knew he was looking at a future with this woman despite the louder voice saying no, not for a long time yet. “Claudia, I know you are still getting your memory back. Heck, we don't know if you are involved with someone or anything like that. I was just thinking that I have this pretty good-sized place. I work weird hours, and it would be nice to have someone around. Blooper, my dog, he'd love to have someone around to spoil him, if you like dogs, anyway. And who safer than a cop as a roommate?"

  "I don't know.” The little line in her forehead crinkled, and she nibbled her lower lip.

  "Try me. I'm not so bad."

  She smiled. He loved it when she smiled. Coming home to that smile instead of an empty house would be amazing. She had to say yes, no matter what, he had to convince her.

  "I can't pay much."