Читать книгу A Thanksgiving To Remember - Margaret Watson - Страница 10

Without pausing to think, Tina took his hand again. This time, his fingers curled around hers, holding on with an intensity that almost hurt.

“You’re Tom Flynt,” she said gently. “That’s your name.”

He frowned up at her. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”

“You had a car accident. Do you remember anything about that?”

She watched him thinking, then he began to shake his head. He stopped immediately, pain creasing his face. “No. I don’t remember anything about a car accident.”

“That’s not unusual. The mind often blocks out traumatic memories. Many people who have been in an accident can’t remember what happened.”

“What did you say my name was?”

“Tom Flynt.” She waited to see if there was any recognition in his eyes. There wasn’t.

“What was the name of the town?” he asked.

“Grand Springs. In Colorado,” she added.

She saw the fear creeping into his eyes. “Do I live here?”

“I have no idea, Mr. Flynt. The police haven’t told me.”

“Police?” The tone of his voice changed, became more urgent. “Why are the police involved?”

“Because of the car accident,” she said patiently. “They’re investigating it.”

She saw him frown again, as if he were trying to concentrate. “There’s something I need to remember.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Flynt,” she said. “Your memories will probably come back very soon.” She heard a noise at the door, and turned to see Dr. Steve Wilson standing there.

“Good morning, Dr. Wilson.”

“Hi, Tina.” The doctor gave her a quick smile, then looked past her to the patient on the bed. “I understand that Mr. Flynt has woken up.”

Tina reluctantly let go of Tom’s hand, then stepped aside. “Just now.” She didn’t want to examine why she was reluctant to break contact with her patient.

Steve Wilson sat down in the chair next to the bed and talked to Tom Flynt for a while. Then he stood up and examined him. He made some notes on Tom’s chart, then sat down again.

“You’ve had a concussion, Mr. Flynt, and two cracked ribs. One of the fractured ribs abraded a lung, and although the bleeding into your chest was minimal and appears to have stopped, we’ll need to keep you in the hospital for a few days to let it heal. All in all, though, I’d say you were darned lucky.”

Tom Flynt watched the doctor steadily. “I didn’t recognize my name, or the name of this town.”

Steve nodded. “You’ve got amnesia. It’s not uncommon after head injuries and traumatic events like car accidents, but your memory seems to be totally gone, which is more unusual. I’m confident it will return, but it might take a few days. And just in case, I’m going to have a specialist take a look at you.”

He turned to Tina. “Let me know if anything changes,” he said. “I’ll be in later.”

Tina noticed that Tom watched Steve Wilson carefully as he left the room. When he had disappeared down the hall, Tom looked back at her. “He seems distracted. Do you know why?”

Tina was stunned. “For someone who can’t remember his name, you’re certainly perceptive. And if he’s distracted, it has nothing to do with you. Steve is having some problems at home right now.”

Tom nodded. “I thought something was wrong.”

“It hasn’t affected his work. He’s a great doctor,” she said quickly. “And everything he said was correct.”

“Don’t worry, I believe him. It’s hard to argue that I don’t have amnesia when I can’t remember my name.” He gave her a wry smile.

His brown eyes were warm and glowing, and, just as she had thought, the lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Her stomach swooped and dipped, and she tightened her grip on the bed rail.

“Do you have any questions I could answer?” she asked hurriedly.

“Can I look in a mirror?” he asked.

“Of course.” She found a hand mirror in the bathroom and handed it to him.

Tom took the mirror with the same sensation of unreality that had enveloped him since he’d woken up to see the nurse smiling down at him. He stared at the face in the mirror for a long time, but it looked utterly foreign to him, as unfamiliar as the name “Tom Flynt.” He struggled to beat back the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. Finally, he handed the mirror back to the nurse who stood next to the bed. He noticed that his hand was shaking.

“I don’t look familiar at all.”

“It’s all right,” she said quietly. “Don’t try to force yourself to remember. That will only make it worse.”

Tom stared at her bright blue eyes and the rich, dark red of her hair. “You haven’t told me your name.”

“I’m Tina. Tina White,” she said.

He turned the name over in his mind, but it didn’t sound familiar, either. Fear clawed at him again, its dark fangs waiting to devour him. He closed his eyes, forcing the monster to recede, until there was nothing inside him at all. His mind felt like a huge black void, totally empty. Except for this woman’s voice.

He grasped at the one familiar thing he’d found. “Did I know you before…before the accident?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “We never met before last night.”

“But your voice sounds familiar to me. It’s the only thing that feels familiar.”

To his surprise, he saw her face turn a delicate shade of pink. “I think that’s because I was talking to you last night. You were unconscious, but I didn’t know how much you might be able to hear. And you were alone. So I…talked to you.”

“You did?” As he watched her, fascinated, her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

“We always encourage family members to talk to unconscious patients,” she said, her voice prim. He watched her try to regain her composure. “It can’t hurt, and we think it might help. So I talked to you.”

“And I remembered,” he said slowly.

“On some level, I guess you do.” Tina moved around the room, keeping her back to him, straightening the already-straight machines that surrounded his bed.

“I definitely remember your voice.”

“Then I guess you weren’t as deeply unconscious as we’d feared.” She turned to face him again and pasted what looked like a professionally detached smile on her face. “Maybe that means your memory will come back quickly, also.”

The reminder about his memory jogged something deep in his brain. A sense of urgency surfaced, made more frantic by the fact that he couldn’t remember why.

“I need to remember something,” he said suddenly.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Flynt. It will come back.” Tina’s voice was once again warm and soothing.

“No, there’s something specific. Something I need to do.” He moved restlessly, ignoring the stabbing pain in his left side and the pounding in his head. “Maybe if I got up and walked around, I would remember.”

“You can’t do that,” Tina said, moving closer to the bed. Her blue eyes stared down at him, full of concern and understanding. “I know it’s hard, but you’re going to have to stay in bed for a while and let your lung heal. And your head.” She hesitated, then leaned forward. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to forget everything, including who you are. It must be horrible. You must feel so helpless and alone. But we’ll do everything we can to help you heal. And I know the police are trying to find out more about you. Chances are we’ll have your family standing next to your bed in a few hours.”

She hesitated, then said, “Do you think you have a wife, or children?”

“No,” he said immediately, then frowned. “I don’t know if that’s true or not. But I don’t feel married.”

Her mouth curled into a slow smile, and he couldn’t stop staring at her. His heart began racing, and it had nothing to do with his injuries. Tina’s whole face seemed to light up when she smiled. “I’ve heard that line before,” she said.

For the first time since he’d woken up, Tom relaxed. “Yeah, I guess you probably have. But it’s true—I don’t feel married.” He smiled at her. “But then, I don’t feel like my name is Tom Flynt, and I’ve never heard of Grand Springs, Colorado, either.”

Tina nodded. “I’m sure the detective will be back to talk to you today. He came by last night, when you were still unconscious.”

Hearing that the police would come by took away his smile and brought the urgency back. Tina must have seen the change, because she sat down and leaned toward him. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. But whenever you mention the police, I get this sense of urgency. Like there’s something I should know.”

He saw her hesitate, saw her knuckles whiten on the metal rail of his bed. “I’ll tell you what happened last night, what led up to your accident, at least as far as we know. Maybe that will help you to remember.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ms. White. I’ll talk to Mr. Flynt.”

Detective Bob Jones stood in the doorway, looking at her. Assessing her.

She raised her chin. “Mr. Flynt has amnesia, Detective. He can’t remember anything, including his name.”

The detective looked over at him, and Tom could see the hard cynicism in his eyes. “That’s convenient.”

“It’s the truth,” Tina said hotly. “You can ask Dr. Wilson. He was in here just a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to the doc,” said Detective Jones. “But first I want to talk to Mr. Flynt, here.”

Tina moved over to stand next to him. It almost looked as if she were trying to protect him. “You can talk to him for a while, Detective. But he’s got serious injuries and I won’t let you badger him.”

“I don’t badger anyone,” the detective said, but he was watching Tom instead of Tina. “I just ask questions.”

“Ask away,” said Tom.

The detective studied him for a while, and Tom stared back. There was nothing familiar about the older man’s face. “Do I know you?” Tom finally asked.

The detective shook his head. “Never met. I’m Bob Jones, with the Grand Springs Police Department. My partner will be in soon.” He jerked his head toward the door. “He’s talking to the nurses right now.”

Trying to verify everything I’m telling him, Tom thought, surprising himself with his certainty. He filed the information away and focused on the detective.

Bob Jones stared at him for a moment, trying to intimidate him. Again, Tom wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he did. Finally the detective said, “So you don’t remember anything that happened to you last night.”

“Detective, I don’t remember anything at all, including my name. I’m taking it on faith that it’s Tom Flynt.”

“That was the name on the driver’s license we found with you,” the detective said deliberately.

Tom frowned at him. “Are you saying that it’s a false driver’s license?” he asked after a moment.

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just stating a fact. And I’m the one asking the questions.” He leaned closer. “Do you remember Grand Springs?”

“Not at all. Do I live here?”

“Apparently not. The address on your driver’s license is from Missouri. The St. Louis area. Does that ring a bell?”

Tom thought for a moment and almost shook his head until the stabbing pain reminded him not to. “No. St. Louis sounds as unfamiliar as everything else.”

The detective nodded, as if that were what he’d expected Tom to say. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle. “This look familiar?”

He was holding a driver’s license, and Tom could tell it was his. He remembered the face from the glimpse he’d gotten in the mirror earlier. Otherwise, it looked like a complete stranger. “No, it doesn’t,” he said quietly.

The detective reached into a bag and pulled out a huge, ugly handgun. “How about this?”

Tom heard Tina gasp beside him, but he didn’t look up at her. “I don’t remember that, either.”

“The paramedics found it strapped to your back.” He narrowed his eyes and gave Tom a hard look. “You didn’t have a permit with you to carry concealed.”

“I don’t know what to say, Detective.” Tom continued staring at the gun. “I honestly don’t remember.”

The detective stared at him for a few moments, then dropped the gun back into the bag. “We’ll be holding on to this for the time being. Let me tell you what happened last night.”

Tom managed to nod. He was beginning to get a really bad feeling from Detective Jones.

“There was a big masquerade ball here at the Grand Springs Empress Hotel last night. It was thrown by Jonathan Steele, CEO of Steele Enterprises. At this ball, Steele’s half brother David and his wife Lisa were shot and killed. Two people ran out of the hotel and drove away. You were one of them. We found you by the side of the road, half an hour later. Your car had gone off the road and rolled over.”

The detective gave him a hard look. “So you can see why we want to talk to you. We want to know who you are. And why you ran out of that ball.”

“I’d like to know that myself.” Tom held the detective’s gaze, although his head throbbed with pain. “When I remember, you’ll be the first to know.”

Jones’s hard, assessing gaze stayed on him for what felt like a long time, then he nodded. “I’ll be back to talk to you later, when we get more information. In the meantime, don’t think about leaving town.”

Before Tom could answer, Tina stepped in front of him and faced Detective Jones. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now, Detective,” she said, and Tom heard the steel in her voice. “Mr. Flynt has a serious injury and I won’t allow you to badger him.”

A wave of gratitude welled up inside Tom, but he couldn’t allow himself to look at Tina. He continued to watch the detective. “It’s all right, Ms. White. Detective Jones can ask all the questions he wants.”

“I’m through for now,” Jones answered, but his stony gaze swept from Tom to Tina and back. “But I’ll be back.”

He turned and walked out of the room. When he was finally gone, Tina turned back to him. “How dare he imply that you’re somehow connected to that murder?”

Tom shrugged. “He’s looking at the evidence, and so far it would seem to support that. Apparently since I ran out of the ball after the shooting, that makes me a suspect in his eyes.”

“No one, including you, knows why you ran out of that room,” Tina said flatly. “I thought a person is innocent until proven guilty.”

“He’s just doing his job,” Tom answered quietly.

Before Tina could respond, another man walked into the room. Rugged and broad shouldered, his gray eyes were just as penetrating as Detective Jones’s. He glanced at Tina, then examined Tom thoroughly.

“Your partner just left.” Tom couldn’t have said why he thought this man was a police officer, but he was sure of it.

The blond man gave him a quick grin. “For a guy who’s lost his memory, you’re pretty good at identifying cops.”

Tom shrugged uneasily, unsure of why he’d been so certain of the other man’s occupation. “Just a guess.”

“And a good one.” The man came to a stop next to the bed and held out his hand. “Stone Richardson. I’m a detective with the Grand Springs Police Department. I’m working on the Steele murder case.”

Tina waited for Tom to shake the detective’s hand, then stepped closer to the bed, sliding between him and the detective. “Your colleague was just here,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “He asked Mr. Flynt a number of questions, which he couldn’t answer. There’s no point in asking him again.”

Stone Richardson held up his hands. “Whoa, I’m not here to ask Mr. Flynt the same questions. And I’m sorry if Bob upset you. I know he can come on a little too strong sometimes. That’s just his style.” He hesitated, then said, “The nurses said you seem to have a case of complete amnesia—you can’t remember a thing. I wanted to talk to you to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

“That’s kind of you, Detective,” Tom said slowly. “But I’m not sure what you could do, unless you recognize me.”

Stone shook his head. “Never saw you before in my life. But your situation reminds me of a case I worked on in Grand Springs a few years ago. One of the witnesses in that case had amnesia, too.”

“Did he get his memory back?” Tom asked eagerly.

“Eventually.”

“But it would help you with this case if I got my memory back a lot more quickly than eventually.” Tom didn’t take his eyes off the detective.

“Yes, but I know you can’t push it. I just thought there might be something I could do.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Tom answered quietly, “but I’m not sure what that would be. I’ll let you know as soon as I remember anything.”

Stone nodded. “I’ll stop by regularly and let you know if we find any new information.” He turned to look at Tina. “And just for the record, I do believe he’s innocent unless and until I prove him guilty.”

He turned around and walked out the door before either of them could say anything. Finally Tom said, “Thank you, Ms. White.”

“For what?”

“For defending me to Detectives Richardson and Jones. You have no idea if I’m guilty or not.”

Her eyes flashed blue fire. “And neither do they. But Jones was assuming you were.”

“You have to admit, if I did what they’re saying I did, it looks pretty suspicious.”

“There could have been a number of reasons you ran out of the hotel,” Tina said hotly. “Maybe you’re a police officer. Maybe you were trying to catch the killer.”

“If I were a police officer here in Grand Springs, don’t you think Jones and Richardson would know it?”

She looked away. “All right, maybe you’re not a Grand Springs police officer. But that doesn’t mean you’re guilty of something.”

“Why are you defending me like this, Ms. White?” he asked, his heart suddenly pounding. “You don’t know me, either.”

“Someone has to defend you.” She looked at him again, and he could see the conviction in her eyes. “Until they find your family, there’s no one else to speak for you.”

“Thank you,” he said, moved by her words. “That’s very generous.”

“You don’t look like a criminal. And you don’t act like one, either.”

“What does a criminal look like?” Tom felt his mouth curving into a smile.

“Not like you,” Tina answered immediately.

“I want to know the truth,” he said. “Even if the truth is that I was involved in this crime. I want to know who I am, even if it means I’m a criminal.”

“That’s why I defended you.” Tina bent closer, staring into his eyes. “A criminal wouldn’t want that. A criminal would be trying to hide the truth. A criminal would be looking to shift the blame to someone else. Only a person with integrity would say that he wanted to know the truth, regardless of the circumstances.”

Lost in the deep blue of Tina’s eyes, Tom could almost believe she was speaking the truth. Almost. But he couldn’t allow himself to believe it.

“It doesn’t matter what the truth is. I want to know it,” he said. “And if there is anything I can do to speed up the return of my memory, I’ll do it.”

“Dr. Wilson ordered a neurological exam,” Tina said. “The neurologist will probably stop by this afternoon. We should know more after she looks at you.”

Tom shut his eyes, suddenly very tired. When he opened them a few moments later, Tina was still standing above him, watching him with a worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I shouldn’t have let those two detectives talk to you,” she said, a frown furrowing her forehead. “They tired you out.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “They have a job to do. And I want to find out who I am as quickly as possible.”

She nodded, but there was a militant look in her eyes. “They won’t bother you again today.”

“Are you going to stand guard at the door to my room?” he teased.

She gave him an answering grin. “I won’t have to. We took a class in nursing school about this kind of situation. It was called Withering Looks and Stern Frowns. Guaranteed to get rid of any unwanted visitors.”

“Sounds great.” The pain in his head and his side was pulling him down into a spiral of darkness. He forced himself to keep his eyes open for another moment. “I’ll count on you to keep the dragons away.”

She smoothed the sheet over his chest, then lightly touched his hand. “I’m working on this floor, so I’ll check on you frequently.”

He wanted to call her back, to ask her to touch him again. But the darkness was pulling too hard, tugging him into the void. Tom watched her walk out the door, noticing her long, slender body and the gentle sway of her hips. He held onto the image as he slid into sleep.

Tina stood at the desk in the hallway, checking on some patient records, when a blond woman stepped out of Tom’s room and slid her hands into the pockets of her white jacket. When she reached the desk, she said, “Can I have Tom Flynt’s chart?”

“What do you think, Dr. Mellon?” Tina asked.

“He definitely has amnesia,” the neurologist answered. “He seems to be completely blocked.”

“What’s his prognosis?”

“Good, I’d say. But I have no idea how long it will last. At least he doesn’t have any other neurological problems. His brain scan was normal and all the tests I gave him were normal.”

“Treatment?”

The neurologist smiled. “Tincture of time. His memories will eventually come back. But someone is going to have to spend a lot of time with him, talking to him. Are you the nurse who’s taking care of him?”

Tina nodded.

“Spend as much time as you can with him,” the doctor said. She made a few notations on Tom’s chart, then walked away.

“Well, Tina, it looks like you’re going to have your hands full with that patient,” one of the nurses said.

Tina nodded. But her heart sped up in her chest at the prospect of spending time with Tom Flynt.