Читать книгу Journey Back to Christmas - Leigh Duncan - Страница 7

Chapter Three

December 2016

Parked outside the Central Falls Police Headquarters, Jake Stanton scanned the freshly shoveled sidewalks for signs of trouble and got… nothing. Stifling a ripple of discontent, he brushed a drop of melted snow from the sleeve of his uniform jacket. Where had this feeling of dissatisfaction come from? Christmas was right around the corner. The sights and sounds of his favorite season had always filled him with anticipation and hope. Not so this year. This year, the holiday greetings of people he’d known all his life left him feeling empty and hollow. Not even a drive down Main Street, where Christmas lights shone around every doorway and window, could brighten his spirits.

He tapped his chin. He supposed the blame for his current case of the blues fell squarely on his own shoulders. But who could fault him for feeling down when his number one goal was to help people, to make a difference in their lives… and no one needed his assistance? From Mr. Birchdale at the Art Gallery to Tobias Cook, the town’s somewhat eccentric millionaire, everyone in Central Falls had their lives tied up in neat packages, much like the Christmas present that busybody, Mrs. Jones, had just toted out of the china shop.

Not that he wanted to change professions. No. He’d dreamed of becoming a police officer ever since he’d pinned a shiny tin badge on his shirt and strapped a toy gun in a holster around his waist at three years old. He’d pursued that goal by signing up for the military police when he’d enlisted in the Army straight out of high school. Four years as an MP, followed by another four in college, had earned him a position with the police department in his hometown. For the past five years, he’d risen steadily through the ranks. Last fall, he’d been promoted to Training Officer, a position he’d thoroughly enjoyed until three months ago… when Sarah had joined the force.

He guessed she was the other part of his problem. As Training Officer, it had fallen to him to teach her the ins and outs of good police work—to slow down, to assess every situation, to stay safe. A tough enough job with any new recruit. But working with Sarah made that task twice as hard. In order to do his job right, he had to stop seeing her as the little tomboy who’d done her best to outrun, outshoot, outmaneuver him all through their childhood. He had to look at her through fresh eyes. And well, that was nearly impossible when she insisted on treating him the same way she always had. Take right now, for example.

“What’s your favorite?” Sarah posed the question from behind the steering wheel of their squad car.

Jake started. What had she been talking about? Oh, yeah. Sports. “Football. Definitely football.”

“Over baseball?” Sarah’s blond brows rose to incredulous points. Her lips formed a thin line, and she gave her head a shake that sent her long ponytail swaying. “You do not.”

“What? You think you know everything about me?” He swirled the coffee in his Styrofoam cup.

“Yeah, I kinda do.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ve known you your whole life.”

“Okay, you do not know everything there is to know about me.” She might think she understood what drove him, but how could she? He’d never once mentioned how much he wanted to make a difference, to do something worthwhile with his life. There were other things she didn’t know about him, too. For instance, he’d certainly never confessed how much he worried about her when they went out on a call.

Giving her his best smug smile, the one she never saw through, he eyed her over the rim of his cup. “A man needs to keep some things to himself.”

“Oh, so you’re a man of mystery now.” She laughed. “Not!”

“You’ll see.” Folding his arms across his chest, he kept his secrets to himself. With her quick wit and keen intelligence, his partner would make a fine police officer one day. Once she started taking him seriously, that was.

Her expression said she had him all figured out as she squared around to face him. “Besides, Louise tells me anything I want to know.”

Louise never could keep a secret.

“Oh, please, shoot me now. Why?” Jake leaned back against the headrest. The long-suffering sigh he’d practiced until he had it down pat eased through his lips. “Why am I partners with my little sister’s best friend?”

“’Cause you trust me?” Reaching across the squad car, Sarah tapped her fist against his chest.

An unexpected urge to catch her fingers in his stirred within him. He suppressed it and batted her hand away. “Ma’am, hands on your side of the vehicle,” he said, the warning as much a reminder to himself as it was for her.

“And I”—Sarah gave his arm another tap—“make you look good.”

As if! Jake chuckled. “Could you please be a little less bratty when you’re in uniform?”

Sarah tilted her head. Her Cheshire-cat grin offered no promises.

A burst of static rose from the radio mounted under the dash. “Dispatch to 403.”

Jake keyed the mic attached to his uniform collar. “Yeah, 403 here.”

“We have a report of a female on Main Street at Center Road who may need a well-being check. Can you investigate that?”

“Copy that. En route.” He wasted a glance at Sarah, but she’d already moved into action, buckling her seatbelt and stashing her coffee in a cup holder in the smooth, measured movements he’d drilled into her over the past three months. The throaty engine of the 4x4 that could handle even the worst road conditions rumbled as she put the SUV in gear.

In the seat beside her, Jake straightened and peered through the windshield. Maybe this would be it. Maybe this would be the call that gave him a chance to make a difference in Central Falls and restored his Christmas spirit. Moments later, he searched for anything out of place among the happy shoppers who ambled along Main Street. The Jones boy—George, he recalled—leaned against a light pole, his phone pressed against his ear. Nothing unusual there. A pair of boys on skateboards rolled past the squad car. Jake dismissed them. As long as they wore helmets and pads and didn’t mistake Main Street for a race track, the town’s young folk were welcome on the city sidewalks. His focus shifted to a pair of women who faced one another on the other side of the wide thoroughfare. An odd feeling prickled the back of his neck when one of the pair moved farther down the street, a guide dog’s harness in one hand, a white cane in the other. His attention zeroed in on the woman who remained behind.

“There.” He pointed to a young blonde who wore an unfashionable gray coat.

“Her?” Though doubt filled her tone, Sarah pulled to the curb.

“Yeah, the one wringing her hands.” Trusting Sarah to guard his back, Jake stepped from their squad car as soon as the tires stopped rolling. He moved lightly over the packed snow. Braced for action, he positioned himself in front of the slight figure on the sidewalk, shielding his less-experienced partner with his body in case the stranger made any sudden moves. He pitched his voice to catch her attention. “Excuse me, miss.”

He’d always been a detail man. His military training and his time on the force here in Central Falls had helped solidify his focus. Now, he catalogued images. The agitated woman wore a tiny pillbox hat that looked more decorative than functional. Her wool coat appeared to be well-enough made, but it wouldn’t keep her warm if she stayed outside for long. A pair of thin, leather gloves offered scant protection against freezing temperatures. Her shoes—with their heels and decorative stitching—hadn’t been made for traipsing around in the snow, either. His gaze bounced to a wrinkled brow and brightly painted, pursed lips.

Instinct told him she didn’t pose a danger. The look he traded with Sarah assured him that his partner was of the same mind, and he dialed his tension down a bit.

“Is everything okay?” he asked the woman.

“I—” Tears welled in her blue eyes. “Can you help me?”

“That’s what we’re here for, ma’am.” He took the lead while Sarah whipped a notebook out of her pocket and began taking notes. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, I… I had an accident last night.” She worried her lower lip with even white teeth. “My car got stuck in a snowdrift. I made it to a barn, but then I, I passed out or something. When I woke up, everything was… different.” Slowly, she stared at the police car at the curb as if she’d never seen one like it. “And I don’t know how to get back home. Can you help me?”

“You say you were in an accident?” Jake gave the woman an appraising look. Her clothing, though odd, seemed to be intact. She had no obvious injuries.

“Yes…” Her soft voice faded. “I made it as far as the gazebo.” She took a step toward the street. “I just, I just need to find my car. And my purse. I think I left it in the barn.”

“Whoa, now!” Jake grasped the woman by the arm. In her current state, she could walk into traffic and get hurt. “I think the first thing we ought to do is get you checked out. Make sure you haven’t bumped your head or something. Then, we’ll have a look around for that car. Let’s let my partner here get some information. Okay?”

“Name,” Sarah asked, focused on her notebook.

“Hanna. Hanna Morse. I live at 166 Elm Street.” Giving Sarah a puzzled look, she asked, “When did Central Falls hire a woman police officer?”

“I’ve been on the force three months, ma’am.” Turning far enough to one side that Hanna couldn’t see, Sarah rolled her eyes. Her words aimed for his ears only, she added, “Elm Street’s in the business district. Pretty sure the Organic Planet is at 166.”

Jake nodded and keyed his mic. “Dispatch. Tell Chief Munson we’re en route to Doc Lipscomb’s with one Hanna Morse. Ask him to meet us there.” Whatever was wrong with the woman they’d found, Jake had a feeling they’d need Chief Munson’s help in getting to the bottom of it.

Twenty minutes later, Jake motioned Sarah to her feet as the chief stood when Dr. Jessica Lipsomb entered the waiting area of the small clinic. “Hanna Morse appears to be healthy,” she announced to a trio of relieved smiles. “She has no obvious signs of a concussion. Her vision is fine. She has no headaches. I know you’re eager to ask her some questions. She agreed to talk with you while we finish up here.”

Dr. Lipscomb beckoned the three of them to join her in the exam room. There, she took a blood pressure cuff from a rack on the wall. Aiming a reassuring smile at the patient seated on the exam table, she wrapped the device around Hanna’s arm. For the next few minutes, the doctor alternated several routine tests with questions that Jake thanked his lucky stars she’d never had to ask him.

“How long do you think you were unconscious?” Dr. Lipscomb placed the cuff back in its holder.

“I don’t know.” Hanna shook her head. “I, um, I heard a big boom. It was thunder, during the storm.”

Jake studied the slender blonde. “The storm?”

Beside him, Sarah gave her notepad an attention-getting tap-tap-tap and said, “There was no storm last night.” She challenged Hanna with a firm look. “Weather was clear as a bell.”

“What? No!” Hanna protested. “It was terrible. The thunder and the lightning. There was a strange glow in the sky. After that, though, I must have fallen asleep because that’s all I remember.” She peered up at them. “Do you think I’m dreaming? You all seem so real, but everything—it, it doesn’t seem right.”

Chief Munson leaned forward to ask, “How long were you in the shed before you came out?”

“Just the night,” Hanna answered immediately. “My car got stuck in the snow.”

“Her vital signs are normal,” Dr. Lipscomb announced over one shoulder. She held her pen in front of Hanna’s face and moved it slowly to one side.

Ignoring the doctor, Hanna rambled on about dreams. “I was reading Ladies’ Home Journal once, and they had a story on dreams, how they seem real, but…”

“Shhhh,” Dr. Lipscomb hushed her patient. “Just follow the light with your eyes.”

A burst of static sounded in Jake’s ear. He pressed his earbud and listened as reports filtered in from his fellow police officers. So far, no one on the force had spotted an abandoned vehicle anywhere within the city limits. The minute Dr. Lipscomb finished testing Hanna’s vision, Jake updated Chief Munson on the search.

“Maybe we’re looking for the wrong vehicle,” the chief suggested. He shifted his focus to the confused young woman. “Can you tell me the make and model?”

Jake studied the perplexed frown that crossed Hanna’s features. He wasn’t at all surprised when she asked, “Of what?”

“Of your car,” the chief said in the patient voice that earned him the respect of staff and suspects alike. “What kind of car do you have?”

“A Hudson. It’s a Hudson.”

“A what?” Sarah blurted.

Jake smiled to himself. He knew exactly what a Hudson was. There’d been a time when he’d have given his eyeteeth for one of the classic cars.

“My husband bought it right before the war,” Hanna offered.

Chief Munson traded a glance with Jake. Now they were getting somewhere. “And has he been contacted?” the chief asked. “Your husband?”

Jake’s chest squeezed at the look of incredible sadness that crossed Hanna’s face.

“No.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He died. In the war.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the chief said, while silence filled the room. “Was he deployed in Iraq? Or Afghanistan?”

The perplexed look that Jake was starting to recognize swam through Hanna’s eyes. “He was in Malmedy,” she said with a sad sigh.

Jake fought an urge to scratch his head. If he remembered his high school history lessons correctly, Malmedy was the site of the worst POW massacre… of World War II. A single glance at Dr. Lipscomb put any doubt of the matter to rest. And no wonder, considering the Medal of Honor on display in her office. Her grandfather had fought and died in the Battle of the Bulge.

The doctor smoothed one hand down the front of her lab coat. “Mrs. Morse,” she said before the chief had a chance to ask his next question, “what’s today’s date?”

“December 16th.” The petite blonde hesitated. “No. The 17th. December 17th,” she said, growing more sure of herself.

“And where are we?” the doctor asked as if she wasn’t trying to poke holes in Hanna’s story. “What city?”

Hanna’s pert features brightened. She knew the answer to this one. “Why, in Central Falls, of course.”

“And the name of the president?”

Certainty glowed in Hanna’s eyes. “Harry S. Truman.”

Though Jake’s mouth wanted to drop open, he kept it closed. Dr. Lipscomb handed the conversation back to his boss with a single nod.

“Hmm.” Chief Munson tapped his foot against the hardwood floor. “Hanna, Dr. Lipscomb… if you don’t mind staying right where you are, I’d like to confer with my officers for a moment.” Without waiting for a response, the chief headed for the nearest exit, Sarah right on his heels. Bringing up the rear, Jake aimed a sympathetic glance at the woman who looked pretty normal despite her bizarre answers to Dr. Lipscomb’s questions.

“Okay,” Chief Munson began once the door snapped shut behind them. “What are we dealing with?”

“Amnesia?” Sarah ventured.

“Can’t be. She knows her name. City. Date,” the chief replied, ticking items off a list. “Though, I’ll admit, she’s confused about the year.”

“Yeah, and there was no storm last night.” Sarah rotated her cap in her hands. “Maybe she’s pulling a scam?”

“That’s possible,” the chief agreed. “Her address doesn’t check out. Her car doesn’t check out.”

“Whatever a Hudson is,” Sarah added. “She has no ID.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. He got where the chief was coming from. Protecting the citizens of Central Falls from harm had to be their boss’s primary mission. As for Sarah, she was the newest officer on the force and looking for her first big case to crack. That didn’t mean either of them were on the right track. Stepping in before an innocent woman got labeled, he provided a simple reminder. “She says she dropped her purse back in the shed.”

“That’s a likely story.” One that, by the expression on her face, Sarah wasn’t buying.

The chief drew in a deep breath. “We’re going to have to take her in.”

“On what charge?” Jake demanded. It didn’t seem fair for the woman to end up on the wrong side of the deal just because she had a few problems with her memory.

“For now, we’ll just get more information from her,” the chief said, though his brow furrowed at the suggestion.

“It’s either that or a 1701,” Sarah said, citing the code for involuntary commitment.

“Wait. Hold on, Chief. This all seems a little bit harsh.” An odd sensation stirred in Jake’s chest. If there’d ever been someone who needed his help, Hanna was it.

Chief Munson held out empty hands as if he wished someone would fill them with a different solution. “It’s procedure, Jake. Nothing else.”

Jake thought fast. Some sixth sense told him that Hanna would never find herself again if they locked her behind bars or, worse, put her in a psych ward. Though he wasn’t buying her story about a husband who died in World War II, he was pretty sure she’d suffered some kind of mental trauma. She needed a place to sit for a while and collect her thoughts more than she needed anything else. Some place where no one bombarded her with questions or forced her to give answers that didn’t make any sense. And he knew just such a place.

He cleared his throat. “Let me take her back to the farm, okay? Just for a day or two. Just let her calm down. Let her feel safe.”

A rare instance of indecision flickered in the chief’s dark eyes. “I don’t know,” he responded while he tugged at his gloves. “It’s against protocol, and I’m not sure she isn’t—”

Afraid the next words out of his boss’s mouth would condemn Hanna to spending the holidays behind bars, Jake forced himself to ignore the accusations in Sarah’s wide-eyed stare. Speaking with far more assurance than he felt, he pleaded Hanna’s case. “We haven’t processed her yet. Just… let me observe her. If she’s delusional, I’ll take her to the hospital. If I sense she’s a fraud, I’ll bring her back to the station.”

Chief Munson shook his head. “If she’s a con artist, she’s going to play you at every turn,” he warned.

“C’mon. It’s almost Christmas.” The thought of anyone needlessly spending the holidays in jail or a hospital ward soured Jake’s stomach. Aware that he was crawling out on a very thin limb, he added, “I’ll take full responsibility. Okay?”

Two pairs of skeptical eyes stared back at him, but he stood his ground. As far as he knew—and he had a pretty good grasp of the law—living in the past wasn’t a crime. And no one, especially not a sad and confused young woman, should have to spend Christmas behind bars for that.

Hanna climbed into the unfamiliar vehicle and clasped her hands in her lap. She took a deep breath. When the officer with the compassionate brown eyes had offered her the choice of spending the night with his family or spending the next few days locked in a cell or in the mental ward of the hospital, well, really there hadn’t been much of a choice, had there? But agreeing to go off with a perfect stranger—even a police officer—was one thing. Actually getting into his strange vehicle and letting him take her who-knew-where was something else again. Her head pounded. She closed her eyes and ordered herself to be brave.

“Seat belt,” Officer Stanton said, sliding behind the wheel.