Pregnesia

by Carla Cassidy

  She slid into a chair at the table and tried to look at anything but him. “You must have gotten up and out early.”

  “There’s a twenty-four-hour grocery store not far from here. I got up at dawn and got enough supplies in for a couple of days. How do you like your eggs? I’d recommend scrambled.”

  She smiled. “Scrambled is fine.”

  He turned toward the refrigerator and she saw the scars on his back. They were faint, but discernible, and crisscrossed the expanse of his back. “Lucas, what happened to you?” He whirled around to face her. “Your back. What happened to your back?” she asked.

  A myriad of emotions played across his features before they finally settled on calm acceptance. He turned back to grab a carton of eggs from the fridge. “My father happened to me,” he replied after a long hesitation.

  She stared at him for a long moment as his words sank in. “He beat you?” Her heart ached for him as she realized that must have been what he’d meant when he’d told her it had always been him and Loretta against the world.

  “Just about every day of my life until I turned eighteen and joined the navy.” He cracked several eggs into a bowl and offered her a tight smile. “He was a miserable bastard who for whatever reason decided early in my life that I was the source of his misery.”

  “Did he drink? Was he drunk when he beat you?” She couldn’t imagine a parent doing that to a child unless he was out of his mind on drugs or alcohol. And even then it was unimaginable.

  “No. He was always stone-cold sober whenever he beat me.”

  “What about Loretta? Did he beat her, too?”

  “Never touched her.” He poured the egg mixture into an awaiting skillet. “Maybe he instinctively knew that if he did, I’d kill him.” He said the words matter-of-factly and Jane wondered what kind of scars had been left behind that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

  “Loretta was only about five years old the first time she crept into my room after I’d gotten a beating.” He pushed the button on the toaster. “She had a wet washcloth and placed it over my forehead, then held my hand until I finally went to sleep.” He smiled again, this smile with more warmth. “Even then she was taking care of the sick and wounded. After each and every beating I got, it was Loretta who came into my room to bring me water or rub salve on my back.”

  “What about your mother? Where was she when all this was happening?” Jane asked.

  “She was sitting in her chair, or making dinner or watching television. She was emotionally disengaged. She neither encouraged him nor stopped him.”

  “Did your father beat her?” she asked.

  “Not that I remember. She didn’t seem particularly afraid of him. She just didn’t seem to love Loretta and me enough to fight for us. For a long time after I was grown I wasn’t sure who I hated more, him or her.” He picked up a spoon and stirred the eggs and smiled at her once again. “Don’t look so stricken, Jane. I survived and I’m probably stronger for it.”

  The toast popped up, and as he buttered it, Jane’s heart opened wider to him. There were other ways to gain strength than to survive a horrendous childhood, she thought.

  “I can’t imagine being hit by my parents,” she finally said. “My mother always said she could tell when I was fibbing because I’d tug on the end of my hair, but I was always punished with a time-out or grounding, never hit.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “I remembered that.” She frowned and concentrated on the faint memory that stirred inside her head. “My mother’s name was Bernice, but everyone called her Bernie.”

  “And what was her last name?” He stared at her intently.

  She reached for it, trying desperately to put a last name to the woman’s face that filled her mind, but it was no good. The vision fell away and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t summon it again. She shook her head. “No, it’s gone.” She sighed in frustration.

  “It’s okay,” he assured her as he ladled the food on plates. “It’s a good sign that you had even a single memory. Maybe that means they’ll all start coming back.” He placed her plate in front of her. “And it’s good information to know, about the hair-tugging,” he teased.

  She laughed and picked up her fork. “I can’t imagine ever lying to you. You’re the only one I trust completely right now.”

  “I’m the only one you know right now,” he returned as he joined her at the table.

  “True, but I have a feeling if there were a dozen people in my life, you’d still be the one I trusted most. In fact, I’m thinking when my little boy is born, I’ll name him Luke, after you.”

  Any teasing light that had warmed his eyes vanished. “Don’t, Jane.”

  “Don’t what?” she asked.

  “Don’t make me into some kind of a hero.” His eyes grew hard and a knot pulsed in his jaw. “I’m just the man who is stuck with you until we can figure out where you really belong.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. She might have lost all her memories, but she still remembered what it felt like to be hurt.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m heading in to the office to meet with Troy and Micah,” Lucas said three days later as Jane sat at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of orange juice. “I should be back by dinnertime.”

  He needed to check in with his partners and stop by his sister’s place, but more than anything he needed to escape from Jane and the tension that had built to intolerable proportions in the last three days of isolation.

  She nodded. “I’ll have something ready for dinner.”

  It had quickly become habit that she cooked dinner and they both did the cleanup afterward. The domestic nature of their time in the house was definitely starting to get under his skin.

  “Thanks,” he replied. “Lock up behind me. I’ll see you later.” He grabbed his coat and pulled it on, then walked out the front door and into the unusually cold, gray day.

  There was a taste of snow in the air. The weathermen on the news the night before had talked about the possibility of an early snowstorm. Just what he needed—to be snowed in with the woman who was slowly driving him out of his mind.

  He started the car and as he waited for the engine to warm up, he stared at the house and thought of the woman inside.

  She’d been unusually quiet, and he knew she’d been hurt by his words at breakfast that first morning. But he’d needed to ground her in reality. She’d looked at him as if he were the man he wished to be instead of the man he feared he was, and that had scared him.

  They’d spent the three days playing cards and Monopoly to pass the time. She was good at poker, but lacked the killer instinct to win at the board game. She’d teased him about closing cabinet doors and meticulously arranging things in an orderly fashion, and he hadn’t taken offense. In truth, he found the teasing charming.

  They were no closer to finding out who might be after her, but more memories had resurfaced. She’d remembered a high school dance and a trip to the Kansas City Zoo. She’d also remembered her father’s funeral and then burying her mother two years later. They were bits and pieces of a life returning in brief glimpses that had yet to reveal the information they most needed—her name.

  Still, he knew now that it was probably just a matter of days before her memory completely returned and then she’d be out of his life for good.

  What he didn’t understand was why the idea of never seeing her again bothered him more than a little bit. Each evening as they’d sat in the living room watching television, his attention had been focused on her.

  He loved the way she lifted her hair off her neck when she got too warm, how she unconsciously rubbed her tummy as if caressing the baby inside her.

  The sound of her laughter filled him with a particular kind of joy he’d never felt before, and the worry that flirted darkly in her amazing eyes made him want to move heaven and earth to take it away.

  He put the car into gear and pulled away from the house. Definitely time
for some distance. How on earth had she managed to get so deep inside him in such a short space of time?

  Unlike his sister, he’d never had a particularly soft spot for strays or the vulnerable, and yet something about Jane touched him in a way nobody ever had.

  He tightened his hands around the steering wheel. He needed to get a grip. He glanced over to the small brown bag on the passenger seat. Inside was a drinking glass that Jane had used the night before.

  He’d sneaked the glass into the bag and brought it out to the car last night after she’d gone to bed. He had a friend at the crime lab who could print it and run her through the AFIS. If she had a criminal record or had ever been fingerprinted for anything, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System would find her. He’d considered doing this before, but had dismissed the idea, hoping the situation would resolve itself.

  He hadn’t told her what he was going to do, knew that it would only add additional stress to an already-stressful situation. There was no question that he was intrigued by her adamant refusal to go to the police. At least by checking her fingerprints, within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours he’d know if she had a record. And if she did, then they’d know her name.

  Before dropping the glass off with his buddy, before checking in with his partners, he wanted to see Loretta. By the time he pulled into the apartment complex, the gray sky had begun to spit snow.

  Today was Loretta’s day off, and despite the fact that it was nearly ten o’clock when he knocked on her door, she greeted him still clad in her pajamas and with a coffee mug in hand.

  She ushered him into the kitchen, where he poured himself a cup and sat at the table across from her.

  “I heard the weatherman mention snow today and decided it was a good day to stay in my pajamas,” she said. “How’s it going? How is Jane?”

  “Okay. She’s started getting some memories back, although nothing about who she is or what happened to her. She’s remembered fairly inconsequential things.”

  “But that’s a good sign,” Loretta exclaimed.

  “That’s what I told her. That’s what I keep telling myself, that it’s just a matter of time before she remembers everything.”

  “I kind of miss having her around.” Loretta took a sip of her coffee and then continued. “She was good company. She has a great sense of humor. I like her.”

  “Yeah, well, it won’t be long before she’s back where she belongs.”

  “Maybe she shouldn’t go back where she belongs,” Loretta said. “I mean, she ran away for a reason.”

  Lucas frowned with a touch of irritation. He didn’t want to think about that. He had to hang on to the idea that someplace out there Jane had a safe place to go and people who cared about her. “I’m just ready for this all to be over. I need to get back to my life.”

  Loretta crooked one of her dark eyebrows upward and smiled ruefully. “What life?”

  “Ha, ha, very funny,” Lucas replied drily.

  “I’m not trying to be funny. You have my life and you have your partners’ lives, but you don’t have much of one of your own.”

  “It’s a little early in the morning for a Dr. Phil moment,” he replied. “Have you seen anyone suspicious lurking around the apartment building over the past couple of days?”

  “No, and I wasn’t finished talking about you,” she replied. “Seriously, Lucas, at least it was nice to see you interacting with Jane. You like her. I know you do. I could tell by the way you looked at her. I know she probably has a life to get back to, but it’s all made me think about how much I wish you’d find some nice woman to be a part of your life.”

  “I don’t need anyone in my life,” he replied. “Besides, you’re one to talk. When was the last time you had a date?”

  “Actually, I have one this Friday night.” She smiled smugly.

  Lucas leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “With who?”

  “He’s a really nice guy who works as a lab tech at the hospital. We’ve been spending our breaks together for the last month or so, and he finally asked me out.”

  “What’s his name?” Lucas asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t. You are not going to check him out through whatever nefarious means you might have. I’ll tell you his name on the day of the wedding.”

  Lucas stared at her in stunned surprise. “It’s that serious?”

  She laughed. “Not yet. But I am serious about you staying out of it.” She leaned forward and covered one of his hands with her own. “I love you, Lucas, but you have to give me a little breathing room to find my own way when it comes to romance.”

  He knew she was right. “Just be careful. Make sure you go someplace where there are other people.” He bit his tongue before a full-blown lecture could escape. “And have a good time.”

  She smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I plan on it.”

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” he said with a check of his watch. “I’ve got some errands to run before I get back to Jane.” He stood, drained his coffee cup and carried it to the sink. “Call me Friday night when you get home, okay?”

  “It might be late.” She got up from the table to walk him to the door.

  “That’s all right. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re home safe and sound.”

  She walked with him to the front door. “You’ll let me know what happens with Jane?”

  “As soon as I know anything,” he replied.

  “Good. I’d like to keep in contact with her. She’s a terrific woman, memory or no memory.”

  Minutes later as Lucas drove to the lab, he felt a new depression settle across his shoulders. His partners were both building new lives with women that they loved, and it was obvious Loretta was excited about her date on Friday night. Things were changing. Everyone seemed to be moving on with their lives while Lucas was being left behind.

  He shoved the ridiculous thought from his mind as he pulled into the parking lot of a small café across from the Kansas City Crime Lab.

  The lab itself was housed in a low, long brick building, but he’d arranged to meet his friend at the Cornerstone Café, which was usually filled with people from the lab grabbing a bite to eat.

  He spied Justin James seated at a booth in the back the minute he walked through the door. Loretta described Justin as the hottest science nerd on the face of the planet. Lucas didn’t know about hot, but he knew the man ate, slept and breathed forensic science.

  Justin raised a hand as he saw Lucas approach. With his other hand he picked up a cinnamon roll the size of New Jersey and took a bite.

  “Sugar and science,” Lucas said as he slid into the booth opposite the blond-haired man. “It’s nice to see some things never change.”

  Justin shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, change is vastly overrated. Now, to what do I owe the honor of this meeting?”

  Lucas set the paper bag on the table. “This is a drinking glass. You should be able to lift a decent set of prints from it. I’d like you to run it through the AFIS and see if anything pops up.”

  “And what’s in it for me?” Justin raised one of his blond eyebrows.

  “Two dozen glazed from the bakery of your choice,” Lucas replied.

  “Done. It will take about twenty-four hours. I’ll call you with any results.”

  “I appreciate it,” Lucas said.

  “Gonna tell me what this is all about?”

  “Nope.” Lucas signaled the waitress for a cup of coffee. “And I’d prefer this to stay between you and me.”

  “I figured that without you saying,” Justin said.

  “How’s work at the lab?”

  “The one thing good about working in a crime lab is I never worry about job security. As long as there are bad people in the world, my job is relatively safe.”

  The two men visited briefly about work, sports and the weather; then Justin stood to get back to work and Lucas left, as well.

  He checked in with Troy and Mica
h at the office, then decided to head back to the safe house and Jane. The snow was coming down in earnest and he turned on his wiper blades against the fat, wet flakes that obscured his vision and began to cover the street and grass.

  He’d only gotten a block or so from the office building when he noticed a dark sedan two car lengths behind him. He turned down a residential street and watched his mirror. The sedan followed, and just behind it another black sports car.

  Lucas turned again and watched as the sedan fell back and the sports car got behind him, tag-teaming him in an attempt to hide the fact that they were following him.

  A surge of adrenaline filled him as he increased his speed and fishtailed around another corner to make sure that his assessment of the situation was correct. The two cars followed.

  He stomped on the brakes and stared into the rearview mirror at the front license of the car that nearly rear-ended him. JMV-237.

  “JMV-237. JMV-237.” He repeated it several times until he was sure he had it memorized; then he stepped on the gas and tightened his grip on the wheel as he set about losing the tails.

  They were good. But he was better.

  He rocked through the streets like a NASCAR driver, taking turns too fast for the road conditions and breaking the speed limits in his effort to evade them.

  It took thirty minutes to finally ditch them. Still he drove aimlessly for another thirty minutes, constantly checking his mirror to make sure he’d lost them for good.

  When he was confident that he wasn’t being followed any longer, he headed to the house and Jane as he wondered again who the hell she was and why people were after her.

  HER BACK HAD BOTHERED HER throughout the day. Jane was seated on the sofa with a pillow from the bedroom behind her for support when Lucas came inside.

  Instantly she could tell that something had happened. She straightened. “I didn’t hear you pull up out front,” she said.

  “I didn’t. I pulled around to the back and parked in the garage.” He sat on the chair across from her, energy rolling off him in waves. “I’ve got Troy and Micah dropping off a rental car later this evening.”