Читать книгу Recovered Secrets - Jessica Patch R. - Страница 16

After they had contacted Sheriff Freeman and waited on him to arrive to take more statements, Grace had sat at the kitchen table at the Muddy River Inn sipping a cup of hazelnut coffee with heavy cream and staring at the sunshiny walls.

Nothing inside felt sunshiny.

Outside the rain had continued to steadily fall. Hollis and Grace had checked the levee right after they finished with the sheriff. It was rising pretty fast. Hollis seemed to think it would hold—if the rain slowed in the next couple of days.

Didn’t seem like it would. Not according to the National Weather Service radar. Grace had kept a close eye on it. Weather changes fascinated her. Had they always? Weather—while predictable most times—could change suddenly, and for the worst. Then as quickly become calm and peaceful. It reminded Grace of how fast her anger had set in when she’d been attacked. Like a wild rage. Where did that kind of temper come from? What had she done and whom did she hurt when it burst out of her in the past?

At the moment, she was anxious and afraid. Coffee probably wasn’t the best choice. Tish entered the kitchen, a friendly smile but concerned eyes trained on Grace. “How are you feeling, hon?”

“Like a roller coaster of emotions.”

“None of this is a surprise to God, you know.” Tish poured herself a cup of coffee. “I don’t know why He’s allowing it. I don’t know what good will come from it. But I do know that His Word says He works everything out for good,” she touched Grace’s hand, “for those who love and trust Him.”

Grace did love God. And she did trust Him—to bring back her memory, to protect her now. Just seemed like He was a bit slow at the moment. She could have used her memories ages ago. “Thank you, Tish. I know Hollis feels like the inn is relatively secure—more secure than my own home because of how public it is, but you might be safer if I find somewhere else to stay.”

“Nonsense. Hollis knows best. And family stick together—that’s what we are in my eyes, Grace.”

Grace wasn’t sure what she’d do without Tish. Had Grace’s mother loved her and cared for her like Tish was now? In her daydreams, she’d been part of a loving, happy family. She’d had a fluffy dog and even a horse. But who knew what Grace’s childhood had been like. Why didn’t her parents reach out to find her? Or had they? Were they?

The door opened and Hollis dripped on the welcome mat. “I have seen enough rain to last me a lifetime. How do people make it in Seattle?” He slipped off his raincoat and hung it on the hook by the door. After wiping his hiking boots on the mat, he headed straight for the coffee pot. “This smells like your foo-foo brew.”

Tish snorted. “It’s hazelnut and you’re welcome to decline a cup.” She winked at Grace and pushed open the door from the kitchen to the inn’s dining area. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“You are the best, Tish.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She clicked her tongue a couple of times and bustled into the dining area.

Hollis poured his cup and sipped. “Not bad.”

“For foo-foo brew,” she chuckled.

“The area is secure. I went over the details with Cord. He’s going to have a deputy drive by every forty-five minutes to an hour. He even offered for you to bunk in his guest room.” A divot formed in the middle of his brow. “Wasn’t that nice of him?”

Grace hid her smile behind her mug. “It was. I guess you turned that offer down.”

“I can protect you just fine. I don’t think seclusion is smart at this point.”

“I’m afraid causalities may arise if we stay in a public place.” Whoever was after her wasn’t going to stop.

“They don’t seem to want to cause too much of a ruckus, minus dropping Peter Rainey in your home—but they kept to the shadows.”

“One shot. Gone. Vanished.” She had to agree on that point with Hollis. “I can’t stay in the inn 24/7, though. If I’m stuck here, I’ll feel caged, and somehow, I am certain that will not bode well for me. Or you.”

Hollis raised an eyebrow and sipped his brew. “I believe you. We’ll do what we can and be cautious. I think Cord will work with us—or you. And when we aren’t trying to discover who is after you, we’ll deal with this weather. If it floods...don’t expect sleep anytime soon. We’ll be rescuing folks—and even pets—left and right.”

“Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that.”

“I am. Believe me, I am.”

Grace finished her cup and snagged a notepad off the kitchen desk and a silver pen from Tish’s rooster-shaped pen holder.

“Whatcha doin’?” Hollis asked.

“I’m going to write down what I do know.” She scribbled her notes, which included two possible sets of people coming after her, the information she’d gleaned from Peter and her vague memory of him as well as who Dr. Sayer probably was based off what they’d learned from CCM.

Making a second column, she began listing the possibilities of Grace’s identity. Soldier, former soldier, US Marshal, a protected witness, a doctor or someone in the medical field. Then she listed the more unsavory ideas.