Lost Memories And New Beginnings (The Men 0f Fire Beach Book 2)

by Lorana Hoopes

  A memory flashed in Tia’s head. She had bought that bag at an upscale boutique in California. She remembered touching the different colorful bags and finally choosing the brown leather because it felt so soft beneath her fingers. “That’s my bag.”

  The woman’s smile faltered, and her eyes shifted again. “So, you remember this?”

  “I have a vague memory of purchasing it, but nothing more. Why do you have it? The police said it wasn’t in my car.”

  “You left it at my place.” The smile returned but it seemed to stop short of Debra’s eyes. Their hazel depths contained no fondness, and Tia wondered why. Had they had an argument? “I’m not sure how you forgot it, but I found it on my table. When I saw your accident on the news, I figured you might be missing it.” She stepped closer and handed the bag to Tia. Her eyes traveled from Tia’s head to her foot. “It appears you’ll be here a while.”

  “Yeah, they haven’t given me a release date yet, but I figure it will be another week at least. I guess that’s fine since I wouldn’t know where to go anyway.” Though Debra’s behavior struck her as odd, she was also the only outside person who appeared to know her, and Tia hoped she might have some answers. “Do I live here now? They said I’m from California.”

  Debra’s lips pinched together and her eyes flicked away again. Her hand clutched the remaining strap on her shoulder. “I think you were just out here visiting me actually. We hadn’t gotten to visit much. Yet,” she added hastily as if sensing the oddity of her words. Her eyes flicked quickly to Edith and then back to the floor. “You really don’t remember?”

  A visit? The feeling she had come to see someone felt right, but she didn’t think it was this woman. Why would Tia visit someone and not talk about where she was staying or for how long? Was Debra lying then? Or maybe Tia had been visiting someone in addition to Debra? Still, she had Tia’s bag, so at least part of her story was true. “I don’t, but thank you for bringing this by. Maybe it will jog some memories.”

  “Of course, I’m happy to help,” Debra said, but her voice held that sappy fake-pleasant tone that people used when they said something they didn’t mean. As Tia thought the words, she realized she had used that very tone herself. Often. She couldn’t remember exact instances, but she knew she had that delivery down to a tee.

  Debra glanced over at Edith and readjusted her bag. “I’ll let you get back to whatever I interrupted as I have to run to a meeting, but I’ll be back to see you. Soon.”

  Tia glanced up at Debra with her one good eye. Apprehension filled her as something in Debra’s tone bothered her, but she didn’t know what it was. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t like her,” Edith said when Debra left. “She seems off.”

  Tia had to agree with her. “She does, but she brought me my purse, so how bad could she be? Maybe this will hold some keys to who I am.” She opened the bag and looked inside. Not much was in there: a maroon wallet, a black and gold makeup case, a hairbrush, and a crumpled piece of paper. Not much to go on. She pulled out the wallet first and opened it. The left side held rows of credit cards all in the name Tia Sweetchild. Behind them was a pocket that contained fifty dollars in cash. So, whoever Debra was, she hadn’t wanted to steal from Tia. Maybe she really was a friend and hospitals simply made her nervous. On the right were cards for other businesses - a movie theater, a coffee shop, places she must frequent.

  Tia pulled out the movie card and held it in her hand. An image of her and a handsome man standing in line to buy tickets flashed into her brain and then disappeared. A date? A relative? She truly had no idea.

  She pulled out the coffee card next. A skinny caramel macchiato with no foam? Was that what she drank? Tia replaced the coffee card and pulled out the license. The same blonde woman from the back of the book stared up at her from the license, and when she read the address, she could picture a pool, but that was all.

  With a sigh, she replaced the wallet and pulled out the makeup bag. It was stuffed with all sorts of makeup - eyeliners in three different colors, four different eyeshadows, two blushes, two mascaras, and four lipstick containers.

  “That is a lot of makeup,” Edith said as she watched Tia pull everything out. “I gave it up many years ago, but at my age, it isn’t really necessary. Not like you young things. You must have liked it a lot.”

  “I suppose I did.” Tia’s fingers pulled out a gold plated compact and trembled as she held it. She hadn’t asked to see her face, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to, but the need to spurred her fingers. As the mirror lifted, Tia sucked in her breath. The face staring back at her didn’t look much like the woman in the picture. Angry bruises and red raw scrapes covered most of her face. A large white bandage blazed out from the top of her left forehead, and her left eye was a black and purple mottled mess. She shut the mirror not wanting to see any more, but she couldn’t stop the tear that trickled out of her right eye. “I’m so hideous.”

  Edith placed a wrinkled hand on her arm. “You are not hideous. You are a beautiful creature in God’s eyes and whatever scars you may have from this accident, they don’t have to define you.”

  Tia nodded, but Edith’s words didn’t replace the sickening feeling in her stomach. Everything she had learned about herself - from her nails to her makeup - was that image was important to her. What would she do if she was scarred for life? After replacing the makeup bag, she bypassed the hairbrush and pulled out the crumpled paper. Rico Rearden, six pm, 144 Palisade Drive. Rico Rearden? An image of a house exploded in her head, and she dropped the paper. She had been meeting Rico Rearden, not Debra, but the question was for what? And who was Rico Rearden?

  “Are you okay?” Edith asked squeezing her arm.

  “No, I don’t think that I am,” Tia said.

  * * *

  Brody opened his fridge and stared at the scant offerings. He really needed to get better about going to a store, or he should break down and hire an assistant like Nick had. Nick had a woman who bought for him, laid out ingredients for dinner, and straightened up. With as much as he worked, Brody should do the same, but having another woman in his house, even just to shop and do meal prep, felt like an affront to Rachel.

  He still remembered coming home to her each night. The smell of whatever she was cooking would greet him as he walked in the door tantalizing his taste buds and sending his stomach growling. Rachel had been a fantastic cook.

  He would drop his work gear by the front door; then he would wander into the kitchen and greet her by wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. She would pretend to bat him away with whatever cooking utensils she had in her hands, but he knew she loved the attention. After dinner, they would wash the dishes together trading secret smiles and glances when their fingers touched. Then they would retire to the bedroom where they would read or watch television before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

  Brody hadn’t been able to sleep in the bed for a month after Rachel passed. It held too many memories. Many nights, he still crashed on the couch though recently that was due more to exhaustion from work than anything else.

  With a sigh, he shut the fridge door. He would order pizza again and see if Nick wanted to swing by. Lately, it was how they spent most nights after work. Either his place or Nick’s or out. Except on the nights when Nick had a date.

  Brody wondered if he would ever date again. He’d thought about it once or twice after Rachel’s death, but after having someone so amazing, he could tell just by meeting a woman that they would never measure up. But he was still young. And he knew Rachel would want him to find someone to spend his life with. His thoughts drifted to Tia.

  What must it be like to wake up and have no memory of who you were? In his own case, he couldn’t decide if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, he would have no painful memory of Rachel’s death, but on the other hand, he would have no loving memory of Rachel in his life either. It was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Wasn’t that what the old saying was?

  Brody shook his head to clear the fog. He was too philosophical tonight. He should skip the pizza and the conversation and just grab something quick. There was a restaurant just down the street that stayed open late. He would grab dinner and one drink and then return to bed. Before he could change his mind, he exited the house, locked the front door behind him, and headed down the street.

  The restaurant was busy when he opened the door, but he managed to find an empty barstool.

  “What’ll you have?” the bartender asked as he sat down.

  Brody surveyed the drink selection. He wasn’t a big drinker, but he and Rachel had partaken on occasion. “A Sam Adams?”

  With a nod, the bartender turned and grabbed a bottle, popped the lid, and handed it to Brody. “You want to open a tab?”

  Brody pondered the question. He’d told himself he would just have one, but now that he was here, he wasn’t sure. He was about to agree when a voice beside him said, “No need. It’s on me.” He looked up to see Detective Graves standing next to him. “Grab that and follow me.”

  Curious, he followed Jordan to an empty booth. “Were you following me, detective?”

  “No, but I’m glad I ran into you. Did our patient remember anything more today?”

  Brody shook his head. He had checked on Tia before his shift ended, but she hadn’t said much. “No, but I didn’t really ask today. I did find out she is an author though and I brought in one of her books hoping it would help.”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “How did you find out she was an author?”

  “I had dinner with Nick last night and he recognized her name, so we googled her. Anyway, when I showed her the book, she said she remembered something when she touched it.” He paused, trying to remember her words. “A man saying ‘What are you doing here?’ But that was all she could remember. She didn’t even remember being an author. Should I be asking specific questions? Did you find something out?”

  Jordan blew out an agitated breath. “Not much more than that, but it just isn’t sitting well with me. Why would anyone want to harm an author? She’s not a big name like Stephen King or J.K Rowling so I don’t think it was about money, and she writes clean romance so I doubt she offended someone enough to want to kill her. All I have are questions - the biggest one being what was she doing here in the first place?”

  “I don’t know.” Brody shook his head and took a sip of his beer. He had his own questions, but they were more about the woman herself than why she had come to Fire Beach in the first place. “She said a woman visited her today and claimed she was in town for that reason.”

  Jordan’s head snapped forward. “What? She had a visitor?”

  “Yes, she didn’t remember the woman, but she hasn’t remembered much. Why? Is that a bad thing?”

  Agitation filled Jordan’s face. “It could be. We asked her to call us if anything else happened. We need to know everything if we are going to figure this out. I can’t believe she didn’t tell us she had a visitor. Did you get the woman’s name?”

  Brody shook his head. “No, sorry, I was a little busy, but I can ask tomorrow.”

  “I’ll go over myself tomorrow to ask, but please, Brody, we can’t help if we don’t know everything. Even if it seems trivial.”

  Brody gave a curt nod. He was glad Jordan was helping, but he didn’t like someone telling him how to do his job. “I understand. It seems she gets a few pieces of her memory back every day. Maybe we’ll know more in a day or two.”

  “Let’s hope that’s soon enough, but please keep an eye on her and call me if you learn anything. I just have a bad feeling about all of this.”

  Chapter 6

  Tia couldn’t wait to see Dr. Cavanaugh today. She was bursting at the seams to tell him she had remembered a little bit more about her past. Specifically, that she was from Texas and her mother had a strong southern drawl. The memory had come to her as she was watching Sweet Home Alabama on the TV the night before, and while an Alabama accent wasn’t the same as a Texas drawl, there were similarities.

  “Well, don’t you look chipper today,” Dr. Cavanaugh said as he entered her room.

  Her lips split in a wide smile. “I am. I remembered a little more of my past. I’m originally from Texas.” She said the words proudly as if they were a star achievement, which in her case, they sort of were.

  “Is that right?” His eyes did that twinkly thing that set her heart fluttering as he returned her grin. “So, a girl from Texas, living in California, but out in Illinois. Maybe you like to travel?” He raised a brow at her as he checked her chart.

  “Maybe or maybe not.” She watched him move to the IV to check the levels.

  “Detective Graves wasn’t too happy that you didn’t call him about your visitor.”

  Tia dropped her gaze. “I know. He’s already been here this morning. Reamed me pretty good, but I honestly didn’t think about it. She said she was a friend and I was in town visiting her. It’s not like I would know differently. Detective Graves also took my purse and the note.”

  Dr. Cavanaugh’s head snapped toward her. “Note? What note?”

  Oh right, she hadn’t told him about the note either. “I went through my purse when she brought it back and I found a note in my purse with a man’s name on it. I feel like I was visiting him, but I don’t know why.”

  “Perhaps he’s someone you’re seeing?” Was she imagining his smile looking a little more forced as he asked those words? Was he upset at the thought of her seeing someone? “Regardless, I bet you’ll remember soon, and I’m sure Detective Graves will look into him. You did tell him about your feeling, right?”

  “Yes, I told him.” Tia felt like a child being scolded. First Detective Graves had jumped on her case and now Dr. Cavanaugh.

  “Good. I’m going to change the bandage on your head now.”

  As he removed the bandage from her head, Tia tried not to focus on the strong angle of his chin or how his touch sent her heart skidding in her chest. She wondered what his beard would feel like under her fingertips? Would it be rough and bristly or softer? And if she touched it, would he lean into her hand or bat it away? He’d told her of his wife’s death, but she hadn’t asked if he were still single.

  “You know what? The stitches are healing nicely. I think it’s time they got some air.”

  His voice brought her back to reality, and she struggled to keep her voice from betraying her thoughts. “That’s good, right?”

  “It’s excellent.” His eyes caught hers and Tia’s breath stilled. There was something in his gaze. Something more than a doctor caring for a patient. She was sure of it. Should she say something? Ask him if he was single? “Look at that, your left eye is open a little too.”

  Her breath tumbled out in a sigh, and a tinge of sadness filled her. Of course, he was looking at her eye. He was her doctor, nothing more. She would do good to remember that.

  “The cuts on your arms appear to be healing nicely too.”

  “How much longer until I’m released, do you think?” She didn’t really want the answer, but felt like she should ask it. With still so much of her life unknown, she felt more comfortable just staying at the hospital and seeing Dr. Cavanaugh every day. When she left, would she have a reason to see him again?

  “I’m not sure,” he said as he ran the thermometer across her forehead. “While you are healing nicely on the outside, I am still concerned about your memory, and though the fever has gone down, it is still slightly above normal. Plus, Dr. North will probably want to look at your foot again before she releases you. Speaking of which, we should check your foot.” He finished examining her legs and touched her toes. “Can you feel that?”

  Tia smiled as she felt his fingers. This time she didn’t have to guess. “I can. Just barely, but I can.”

  “Excellent. That is what I like to hear.” He made a few notes in the chart and then turned his full attention back to her. “Did you read your bo
ok yesterday?”

  Tia glanced at the book on the table next to her bed. “A little, but reading with only one eye was giving me a headache. I probably should have asked Edith to read that to me instead of the Bible. Maybe I’ll try again today though and see if it helps me remember any more.”

  Dr. Cavanaugh smiled and touched her arm. “I think that is a great idea. I’ll be back to check on you later.” His fingertips pressed just slightly on her arm. Only the slightest hint of pressure, but Tia felt there was more there than a simple touch.

  As he walked out of her room, she rolled her eyes. She was seeing romance where there was none. Perhaps she could write again. Maybe this was why she had become a romance author in the first place.

  She grabbed the book off the table and opened it to try reading some more, but she had only gotten through a few pages when footsteps in her doorway grabbed her attention. Tia looked up to see Debra in her room again, but this time the smile was gone and a cold gleam shone from her eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Debra?” Tia inched her finger up toward the call button. Perhaps it was nothing, but Debra’s expression was setting off alarm bells in her body.

  “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just come here to finish business.” Her voice was as cold and soulless as her eyes.

  Fear raced through Tia’s veins, and she placed her finger on the button. She would press it, but she needed answers first. “Business? What are you talking about? I thought you said we were friends.”

  Debra’s expression turned into a snarl. “Friends?” she spat before issuing a derisive laugh. “Friends don’t sleep with their friend’s husband.”

  “What?” Tia’s body froze. She hated that she had little memory, but she couldn’t imagine herself doing that. “I would never…”

  Debra cut her off with biting words that carried their own weapons. “How do you know what you would never do? You told me yesterday you had no memory.”