by Gwen Taylor
"Oh, it's so good to have someone to cook for again. Haven't done this since my boy here struck out on his own. Piper, you eat. I've seen fuller cheekbones on a skeleton. Now, can I get you anything else?"
"No, no, thank you. It looks wonderful, Nana. Thank you for going to so much trouble. You shouldn't have." Piper smiled at Nana's grinning face. "But I'm glad you did. You're the best cook I know."
"Aw, go on. Eat. We've got a lot to do today."
Piper sent Sean a questioning look across the table and mouthed, We?
He shook his head. "What are you getting into, Nana?"
"Going through the picture album, and I have a few guests for Piper."
"Ah, uh, I..." Sean glanced at Piper. "I'm not sure she's up for company. And I can't be here today. I have something to do."
Nana nodded knowingly. "She will be up for this company. I am bringing her memory back to her."
"And how do you propose to do that?" Sean's fork was stilled, his eyes narrowed. "I don't think she should leave without an escort. Maybe not even then."
"Oh, we're not going anywhere. The guests will come here."
"What guests?" Sean didn't look like he liked that idea. He shifted in his chair, the fork lying beside his plate with a strip of bacon speared to it.
Nana patted his hand.
"Now, not to worry. They're all paper and ink. Letters me and Piper exchanged."
Piper's heart skipped a beat. "You mean we stayed in touch?"
Nana smiled and pulled a bundle of letters and cards from her apron pocket. "You think I'd let you go to the city without checking in on you?"
Piper's heart raced. There were scraps of her life in those papers Nana now held. Scraps that might bring her memory back. She stood and hugged Nana. "Oh, Nana. I'm so glad we did."
Nana held her close. "There, there, child. Things ain't always so black. They might be darkest right before the dawn, but then the light comes. We're gonna shed some of it on your troubles today if the Lord will help us. And He will."
All the pent-up emotion she'd been holding back, the fear, the worry, the images of her apartment torn apart by bullets, the feeling that she was all alone, they hit her hard. She bit her cheeks, but a betraying shudder shook her shoulders.
"Nana's got you." Nana smoothed Piper's hair, and the maternal touch made her heart ache.
When she finally pushed away and sat back down at the table, Sean was gone.
Nana saw her glance at his empty chair and squeezed her shoulder. "I waved him off. A man ain't no good at times like these. Especially one what ain't got his own head on straight."
Piper didn't ask what Nana meant by that. She didn't really want to know because it probably had something to do with her.
Nana nodded knowingly. "Some things are just out of our hands, love." She dusted her hands. "Now, finish your breakfast, and let's get to visiting and see about jogging that memory out of your pretty head."
They spent the rest of the day immersed in photos, ones that captured the life she still remembered. Album after album of her life with Sean, until finally, they came to a manila folder with a few photos in it and some newspaper clippings. Nana grinned.
"I wasn't sure what to do with these just yet, so I kept them in here instead of putting them in any permanent home. Things too up in the air for that, but I think they'll be of help to you."
Piper took the folder, wondering what could possibly be in it. She opened it and lifted the first clipping from Mirror Falls' only newspaper. Adams Makes Good on Promise. The article talked about her outreach program to arm girls and women with self-defense techniques and weapons training. There was a picture of her at Mirror Falls High School conducting a training session. There was a smile on her face. And if it wasn't genuine, she was a better actress than she gave herself credit for.
"I did this?"
"You did. I came, you know. Me and a few girls from church. We all thought you did an excellent job. You taught me how to escape a man, use leverage instead of strength, and where it hurts the most to hit."
Piper smiled. "I bet you were brilliant."
"I was. I practiced on Sean once. It worked. He was pretty impressed."
"Did he know..."
"He knew."
Piper looked at the clipping again, at her own face, at the girl beside her that was smiling in her punching pose. "Who's that girl?"
"Let me see." Nana pulled her glasses down from her head and perched them at the end of her nose. She squinted. "That's Myrtle Weeks' granddaughter, Lily. You two got on like a house afire. She takes one of them classes down at the center now. Judo, Karate, or something like that. Getting good according to Myrtle."
"That's great." Piper studied the girl's face, but nothing came. She scanned the other faces and gasped. “That’s my nurse! Ohmygosh! Lynn, you know her too?”
“Law, yeah, she helped out a lot. You and Lynn worked really hard on this. She was as determined as you to see it succeed. She’s a good one, that girl, sweet as can be. Needs her a good man.”
Nana trailed off talking about eligible men in Mirror Falls. Piper murmured as if she were following along, but her mind was on the picture. She had lost so much. But maybe her last three years hadn’t been so bad. And to see Lynn there… Had they been friends? Hadn’t Lynn said something about friends in the hospital? Piper glanced up to find Nana watching her closely.
“Life’s good like that, ain’t it? Brings back the good too?” She smiled. “Come on now, let’s jog out some more.”
Piper smiled and picked up the next item, a picture of Nana in front of a backdrop of tropical plants. "What's this?"
"It's from when I came to see you in Barton. You took me to the Arboretum. We had lunch at a Thai restaurant you liked. Then we got us a manicure and a facial. Got me hooked, see?" She held out her hands and then hooked her thumb over her fist. Piper laughed.
"Who in Mirror Falls did that?" She couldn't believe Nana's nails, especially the palm tree on her thumb with a tiny rhinestone attached. "And why did you go with that?"
"There's a new nail salon in town. The girl gave it to me for free as a trial. I didn't know if I would like it, but she assured me it's very fashionable, tray cheek something or other."
Piper couldn't wipe the grin off her face. "Tres chic?"
Nana looked at the nail in question and scrunched up her nose. "Yeah, that's it. Tell me, is it?"
"I think it is, Nana."
"Well, I might keep it a little longer." She inspected her other hand and then tapped the folder. "Let's keep going. That article there is on the storm we had here that took down the cherry tree. Read the highlighted part."
Piper read the beginning of the article, but nothing sparked any shred of memory. She skipped down to the highlighted section. Sean Hughes was injured Thursday morning at the mouth of the falls while saving a local boy from drowning.
A sudden image of that highlighted article flashed in her head, her pulling it from an envelope. "You sent this to me." She said it, knowing it was true.
"I did. You remember." Nana looked pleased, but Piper was feeling a wave of fear tidaling over her out of nowhere.
She put her hand to her chest, as much to still her heartbeat at remembering as to cover the ache at learning Sean was injured. "Was he hurt badly? He...he broke something, didn't he? I know he broke something. An arm? He broke his arm, didn't he?"
Nana jumped up. "He did, bless him. Bless you. Thank God! I knew we'd get something out of that head."
She pulled Piper to her feet.
"That's enough for now. We'll come back to it later." Nana hugged her. "Ask and ye shall receive."
Piper nodded, too stunned at what she had known to respond verbally. She reached for her phone, her first instinct telling her to call Sean. She looked at the flashing light that noted a missed message. There was no contact name above the message, just a number. The first few words she could read said ‘Who would hurt...’
Piper's hand tremb
led. They knew her number. Maybe they knew more. She looked up.
"What is it, child?" Nana's happy face became dark as she took in Piper's. "What?"
She didn't want to drag anyone else into her fight, but she couldn't face it alone either. "It's a message. Where's Sean? We need to get him."
Nana hurried from the kitchen. She came back breathless. "He's gone. And those two from yesterday are out there. What do you want me to do?"
Piper glanced down at the unopened text message, fear and her detective's need to know at war. "I'll open it."
Her finger hovered over the screen.
"Don't. Shouldn't you wait? Can it track you?" Nana looked around the kitchen like someone might be lurking there already.
Piper set the phone on the table. "I need to be at the station. I'll see if I can trace this."
"But Sean doesn't want you leaving." Nana looked as upset as Piper had ever seen her.
"This will change his mind." Piper picked up the phone and carried it out on the porch where the two officers were. "I need a ride to the station, boys."
13
The station was the most crowded it had ever been. Sean pushed past the officers who had heard Piper was coming in. "How many of you are on the clock?"
He glanced at the faces not looking at him and shook his head. In a small town, everything was a big deal. Only this was a big deal, the biggest Mirror Falls had probably ever had. And he was right in the middle of it. With Piper.
"Hey, boss."
Sean turned at Walsh's voice. "Yeah?"
"No trace on that message." He handed Sean Piper's phone. "She's in the break room."
Sean found her and Nana sitting at the half-tilted round table that had been there as long as he'd been a cop. Piper was flipping the trigger on a pen and shaking her foot in the same agitated manner that she and Amy shared. Nana was sipping on the sludge that passed for coffee and trying not to spit it back out from the look that passed across her face.
Piper glanced up.
He hated to squash the hope he saw there.
She cleared her throat. "Did they get a trace?"
"No, nothing." He sat down beside Nana. "So, it said, 'Who would hurt you more?'"
"Yes. And there were pictures. Of you and Amy." Piper clicked the pen faster. "Do you think Amy's in danger? She's out of the country. Surely…”
"Yes, she's safe. Jai has twenty-four-seven bodyguards, the best money can buy. His words." Sean reached across the table and took the pen from Piper's hand. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Not this, she doesn't." Nana pushed the coffee away. "So, are we good to go? I left a mess of laundry in need of folding just sitting in a basket in my living room. And there's supper to get before I head over to the church for Bingo."
"Walsh can take you back."
"I want to stay." Piper took the pen again and clicked it once. "I need to."
"I don't think..."
Her eyes narrowed, and her voice hardened, her stubborn, I'm-not-budging voice. "I want to stay."
Nana looked back and forth between them and smiled up at Sean. "Let her stay here with you. She doesn't need to be all alone while I go to Bingo. Unless," she eyed Piper, "she wants to come play with a bunch of old folks. You can, if you want, darling, but I think she'd be better off with you Sean, surrounded by this familiar place, work like she's used to. Might jar some more memories."
"More memories?" He held his breath, realized it, and let it out. "What? You actually remembered something?"
Piper nodded, and Nana clapped her hands together. "Yes, she remembered a few things."
Sean's heart gave a funny twinge. "What did you remember? About the case?"
Piper shook her head. "No, about your breaking your arm. It was in a newspaper clipping Nana sent me. I just remembered a little, nothing major."
"That is major, Piper. I'm happy for you." Even as he said the words, he felt like a liar. He didn't really mean them. Or at least, he wasn't happy with what that meant. He glanced back toward the chaos of too many cops in the small office behind him. "I suppose you could stay. Though I warn you, supper's likely to be pizza or whatever's nearby."
"I know. That I do remember."
Nana clapped her hands. "Oh, good, just like old times. I'll see you both back at home tonight. I'll put any leftovers in the fridge for you all. And if I win at Bingo, I'll bring back dessert. Tonight's prizes come from that little bakery of Molly's. There's cash too, but you can't eat that."
Sean stood. "Okay, then. I guess it's settled. Let's see what we can find out."
He could have sworn that the words were swimming off the screen and into his brain. Sean leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.
Beside him, Piper squinted at the same screen and took notes like he'd shown her. His version of shorthand.
He watched her work for a moment, recalling how many nights they'd spent like this, working a case, filing reports, both of them making sure no detail was missed, no fact unchecked, no i undotted. He smiled. They had been so good together, as a working team, as partners. As a couple.
The last thought made him pause. He hadn't meant to think it. It had come unbidden. Not something he needed to dwell on. He looked over at Piper.
She shifted in her seat and stretched. "I think I'm about to go blind and numb."
"I hear you." He rose and pushed his chair under the desk. "How about a little cold pizza and some TV?"
She nodded and picked up her phone. "Okay, sounds good, or good enough. I don't think I can think straight anymore anyway. Might as well take a break."
He led the way back to the break room. "Soda?" He offered her a cold can from the fridge and popped it for her before sliding it across the worn tabletop.
"Thank you."
"Sorry it's not better. I would go get some burgers from Granny's, but we're the only two here until two." He pulled the pizza box out and dropped it on the table. "Plate or out of the box?"
She smiled. "Out of the box is always better."
"You like your pizza like you like your thinking, huh?" He winked at her and wondered what had made him do it.
She laughed, and he was glad he had. She pushed back the pizza lid. "I guess I do."
He pointed to the coffee pot where the black liquid had cooked down to a solid by the looks of it. "I would also guess you don't want your caffeine from that then?"
She eyed the pot with disgust. "I may have changed in three years, but not that much."
"No matter how much you've changed, that's hard stuff to swallow. I think it's been the same filter used since we started here."
"Ugh." Piper pretended to shiver. "I hate to think what's been through that thing. Has anyone ever even rinsed it out?"
"I think Walsh just comes in here in the morning and mixes in some motor oil and water."
"Are you sure about the water? Looks like mostly motor oil."
"No, not sure. You're probably right. Sure smells like motor oil."
They both picked up the same slice of pizza.
"Sorry." They uttered it at the same time and let go to reach for the next piece.
Piper's face lit up, her eyes dancing as she laughed, stopping his hand with hers. "You take this one."
The touch was brief, but like the kiss, it brought back so many memories. Of them working a case, of them sharing a late dinner over work, of them putting the work aside for a stolen kiss.
He hazarded a glance at Piper. She averted her eyes, pretending to pick at the pizza topping, but he sensed a tension in her. Was she thinking the same thing? Remembering their times together? As good or as something she'd rather forget and move on from? And he couldn't help but wonder if she would think differently about him, about her life, once her memory returned.
"This is nice."
Her voice surprised him, low and unsure, but her words were more startling to his balance. It wasn't good for his resolve for her to be so...so...so Piper.
He took a quick drink b
efore responding. "Like Nana said, old times."
"It's not just that." She pulled a pepperoni from the cold cover of cheese and examined it like it was a piece of evidence. "It's nice to work, to do something worthwhile. I've not only not felt like myself, but like I'm kind of floating around from misery to misery and not doing anything, not accomplishing anything, not moving forward. I was going crazy not being myself, you know?"
He started to respond, then the distinct sound of her phone's alert beep sounded. They both looked at it flashing a new text message.
Piper picked it up, her hand shaking. "New number. Another message and photos."
"Go ahead and open it."
She hesitated, and he held out his hand. "Want me to look?"
"Yeah." She swallowed. "Thanks."
Sean opened the message. Your cop can't save you. He looked at the pictures. There was something odd about one of them.
He grit his teeth. "That's my badge photo."
14
"It could have been hacked."
Piper listened to the station's tech support man whose name she couldn't remember. He rattled off all the possibilities. From an inside connection to hacking databases, none of it made her feel any better about the situation. She thanked God that Amy had gone out of the country for a long honeymoon and an extended stay with Jai’s family in India. And she was grateful that Jai had hired some private security, just to be safe.
But Sean's department picture being used had her in a panic. She blamed herself. She had drawn him into whatever shitstorm she'd gotten herself into.
The tech guy's fingers flew over the keyboard, typing in a complicated code that made Piper dizzy.
"It's not like your database is FBI protected. Any hacker worth his salt could pull your photo— hell, they could get in here and change records if they knew what to look for."
Sean's jaw clenched. "Can you shore it up? Make it less capable of being hacked?"
"Yep."
Once again, Piper watched the long string of codes go across the screen. Then he picked up her phone.
