Читать книгу Identity Unknown - Terri Reed - Страница 12

THREE

He couldn’t remember his name.

Sitting on the hospital bed under the scrutiny of the deputy and the sheriff made him feel vulnerable. An antsy sort of energy buzzed through him. He might not know his name, but he knew in his gut he didn’t do vulnerable.

His body ached everywhere. His head pounded like a jackhammer going to town inside his skull. His mouth felt like cotton. An encompassing terror gripped him. A shiver racked his body. Cold. So very cold. How could he not know who he was? Or recall his past?

Why did someone want him dead?

His heart slammed against his ribs. A looming sense of dread and foreboding threatened to pull him back into darkness. He hung on to the edge of the bed and fought the tug. He needed to stay awake. Some innate knowledge told him he needed to keep a clear head if he were to survive. He grabbed the water pitcher on the bedside tray and poured a glass. He drank it down and then another.

“Then we’ll call you John.”

“What?” He stared at the blonde, blue-eyed deputy. Her hair was pulled back away from her face and secured behind her head in a knot. She wore little makeup. She didn’t need any. She was absolutely stunning with her high cheekbones, delicately carved beneath smooth, unblemished skin and full lips. He forced himself to concentrate on what she’d just stated. “Is my name John?”

It didn’t ring any bells. And every time he tried to concentrate, to conjure up a memory, his head felt like someone was taking a pickax to his skull, bringing on a blinding pain that was nearly incapacitating. Only keeping his focus on the beautiful woman’s face kept him from keeling over.

She smiled and her eyes filled with compassion. “John as in John Doe. I don’t know your name. You weren’t carrying identification.”

That explained why they didn’t know his name. “Where did you find me?”

“The tide deposited you on the public beach early yesterday morning,” the man who wore the gold sheriff’s badge replied. Sheriff Crump, he’d said. He sipped from his coffee and eyed John with a mix of wary suspicion and empathy.

He’d washed up on the beach like driftwood, which accounted for the bone-deep chill he felt even though the room was heated. Had he been on a boat and fallen overboard? Something else the sheriff said finally registered like a punch to the gut. “You said someone tried to kill me after you found me?”

“Yes.” The woman told him of the attempts made on his life.

Pressure built in his chest, and his head throbbed. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, hoping to ease the tension that was taking root in the muscles. “I’m sorry about the ambulance. And your patrol car. I’d offer to reimburse you for both, but I’ve no idea if I have the means to do so.” The enormity of the situation weighed him down. “This is all so surreal, like I’ve walked into a bad horror flick. Has the doctor said how long my mind will be blank?”

“I haven’t talked to her yet. We should let her know you’ve regained consciousness.” The deputy reached for the call button.

The deputy smelled like sunshine on a spring day. He breathed in deep, letting an image of a grassy meadow form. Was it a memory or just a generic thought made up of a lifetime of images that had no emotional attachment?

As she moved away, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Deputy Martin,” she replied in a brisk tone. She was tall and he’d guess shapely beneath the bulk of her uniform. He’d like to see her with her hair down and wearing a dress that showed off her long legs.

Whoa. Where had that thought come from?

Better to keep his mind on staying alive and not on some errant attraction to the woman who had rescued him from certain death. Pushing the attraction aside, he went with gratefulness. “Thank you, Deputy Martin, for saving my life.”

He wished he could do something more for her, but he had no idea what. He had no clothes, no identification and no money. He was trapped in this hospital room until he either remembered who he was or someone claimed him.

Or the man who wanted him dead got to him first.

Anger at the unknown man and dread that he might succeed heated his blood but did nothing to chase away the chill that had settled in his core. Was he married? His heart contracted in his chest. Did he have a family worried about him somewhere? He glanced at his left hand. No wedding band. A sign that he was single or just that he didn’t wear a ring? His pulse thrummed in his veins. Frustration drilled into his skull. What kind of man was he?

Why couldn’t he remember?

The door opened, and an attractive female doctor wearing a white lab coat walked in. John gauged her age around fifty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a low bun, and she viewed him with bright blue eyes. His gaze darted from the doctor to the deputy. The similarities between the two left little doubt they were related. Mother and daughter?

“Good morning,” the doctor said as she hustled forward. “I see you ripped out your IV. Are you in pain?”

He was, but he didn’t want meds. “I’m fine. I can handle it.”

Her mouth twisted. “Right. You gave us all quite a scare, on many levels. I’m Dr. Martin. What is your name?”

John grimaced. “I don’t know. I’ve lost my mind.”

Dr. Martin’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “You sustained a rather dramatic blow to the head as well as some hypothermia. You have a linear skull fracture that will heal with time. I saw no evidence of a brain bleed. You certainly have a concussion, so you’ll need to be monitored for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Most likely the severity of the inciting event coupled with the force of the hit to your temple region caused your memory loss. Retrograde amnesia isn’t uncommon. What can you remember?”

“Nothing before waking up here.” John darted a glance at the deputy. She’d said he’d awakened last night and that was why she seemed familiar. But he had a feeling she was holding back, not telling him everything. Why would she do that?

The doctor listened to his heart and his lungs, then checked his pupils. “You seem to be in good order. I have no doubt your memories will return. Just be aware that they may come in spits and spurts and be disjointed. Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. Eventually your memories will slide into place, and you’ll be back to your old self.”

Foreboding prickled his flesh. Whoever he’d been was someone worth killing. What had he been mixed up in? Something illegal? Was he a criminal? “I shouldn’t stay here. Whoever broke in last night might return. I don’t want to put anyone at risk.”

Deputy Martin’s gaze zeroed on the sheriff. “The captain’s place. I could take him there.”

The sheriff shook his head. “No. The safest place for him, and our town, is a jail cell.”

“What!” The deputy shook her head. “No way. We can’t lock him up without any evidence of wrongdoing. That would be setting us up for a lawsuit.”

The sheriff arched an eyebrow. “Not if putting him in a cell is for his own safety. I know the law, Audrey.”

Ah, so that was the pretty deputy’s name. John liked the sound of it. He rolled the name around his brain and tried to remember if he’d known her before his memories had been wiped clean, but his mind remained empty, like a void in space. At least thinking about Audrey didn’t induce any pain in his head.

Audrey’s shoulders dropped slightly, and her mouth pressed into a straight line. “You don’t think I can handle this situation?”

The distress in her voice had John tensing. He wasn’t sure what was at play between these people, but clearly she had a chip on her shoulder. A strange protective urge surfaced. His hand clenched a fistful of sheet. He didn’t know why he wanted to defend this woman. He wasn’t sure if she deserved to be defended or not. Maybe she couldn’t handle his situation. Maybe she could. But the one thing he did know was he didn’t want to cause her harm.

“I didn’t say that.” The sheriff’s tone suggested they’d discussed this conversational land mine before. “But you have to admit, this isn’t something we deal with often here in our little corner of the world.”

Audrey opened her mouth to reply, but the doctor held up a hand. “David, Audrey, take your discussion outside, please. This is upsetting to the patient.”

“No, wait,” John was quick to say. “The sheriff’s right. The best place for me is somewhere I won’t pose a threat to innocent bystanders.” Or a pretty deputy sheriff.

Audrey’s eyebrows pinched together as she turned her baby blues on him. “You won’t be comfortable there. You’re recovering from a nearly fatal head wound, not to mention nearly drowning and freezing to death in the ocean.”

“Better I’m uncomfortable than anyone getting hurt.”

Her gaze narrowed. “That’s very self-sacrificing.”

“Or very self-serving,” John countered. “I have no desire to die. If being locked up keeps me alive until my memory returns, then so be it.”

“That’s settled,” the sheriff intoned. “Carol, when you’re ready to release Mr. Doe, I’ll take him to the sheriff’s station.”

Carol’s gaze darkened with concern. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” the sheriff confirmed. “It’s best for everyone this way.”

Audrey made a distinct harrumph noise but didn’t comment.

“I’ll have the nurse bring our patient’s clothing while I process his discharge papers,” the doctor told them. “He’ll need careful monitoring to make sure his concussion doesn’t worsen. If he loses consciousness again or throws up or complains of dizziness, call me right away.”

“We will.” The sheriff held the door open for the doctor. “I’ll be outside,” he said to Audrey before he followed the doctor out of the room.

“That went well,” Audrey said on a huff. She offered him a stiff smile. “Sorry you had to witness that little drama.”

“What was that about?” he asked. “Are you new to the job?” That had to play into the dynamics between the deputy and sheriff.

She lifted her chin. “Sort of. I did a year on patrol in Bangor before returning home to Calico Bay.”

“And how long ago did you return?”

“Less than a year.”

Okay. She was inexperienced. The sheriff was being cautious on many levels. John could appreciate that. He’d be the same if he had a fairly new recruit under him.

The thought stopped him. Recruit? What did that mean? Was he in law enforcement? Or was the thought just a random scenario that had nothing to do with his life prior to waking up in the hospital?

The throbbing in his head intensified. His stomach cramped.

“Hey, you better lie down,” Audrey said, moving quickly to his side. “You’re not looking so good.”

“Headache,” he said as he scooted back to rest his head on the pillow. “I don’t remember the last time I had food.”

“You don’t want the hospital’s grub,” Audrey warned. She withdrew a protein bar from the side pocket of her pants. “This will tide you over until we can get you some real food.”

Grateful for the snack, he took the bar, ripped open the top and consumed it in three bites and washed it down with another glass of water. The bar hit his stomach with a thud, but it stopped the cramping. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. She rested her hands on her utility belt. “What kind of seafood do you like? It’s the season for crab and monkfish now. But mussels are available, as are scallops.”

His mouth watered at the thought of some good seafood, but no memory surfaced to support the visceral reaction. “Any of that sounds delicious. You’re related to the doctor.”

A wry smile curved her lips. “Caught that, did you? She’s my mom, and the sheriff’s my great-uncle.”

“Good to know.”

She shrugged. “You were bound to find out eventually.”

“I’m not judging. You get flack for being related?”

“Some. But mostly there are those in town who don’t think a woman should be on duty. The world is slow to change here in Calico Bay.”

He could imagine that was hard for her. She struck him as independent and capable with a soft side that she kept close to the vest. “You said you returned here?”

“Born and raised until I went to college and the police academy.”

He admired her commitment to her roots. Did he have roots? He searched his brain until the pain made him back off.

A brunette dressed in scrubs entered the room carrying two bags. “Your clothes.” She set the bags on the end of the bed. “Hello, Audrey.”

“Morning, Sarah. How’s Rich?”

Sarah’s face softened. “He’s good. He’ll be four next week.”

“Wow. I hadn’t realized.” A curious sadness entered Audrey’s eyes. “I’ll stop by to wish him happy birthday.”

“He’d like that. Thank you.” Sarah turned to John, her green eyes sharpening with attentiveness. “Do you need help dressing?”

“No. I can manage on my own.”

Disappointment shot through Sarah’s gaze. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” He was glad when she exited. He met the deputy’s gaze. She didn’t look pleased. “What’s Sarah’s story?”

“She’s a widow, if that’s what you’re asking,” Audrey replied in a tense voice.

“Okay, it wasn’t. I’m more interested in why you looked so sad when you were talking about Rich, who I assume is her son.”

Surprise flashed in Audrey’s eyes. “Oh. Yes, Rich is her little boy. He’s such a sweetie.” That sadness was back. “Ben, Sarah’s husband, worked on a fishing boat. About two years ago there was an accident, and he was killed.”

Sympathy twisted in his gut. “That’s too bad. I’ve watched those fishing reality shows, and that life seems brutal.”

Audrey’s eyebrows hiked up and anticipation blossomed in her gaze, no doubt hoping his memories were returning. “You remember the show?”

He cocked his head, groping his mind for information. “Yes, sort of. I know I’ve seen it, but I can’t recall where or when.” And it was so maddening. He wanted to howl with frustration.

“Give it time,” she said as the light in her eyes turned slightly to disappointment. “You heard my mom. Bits and pieces.”

“Right.” He had a feeling patience wasn’t a strong suit of his, but he really didn’t know. He opened one of the bags and glanced inside. A pile of dark material pooled in the bottom. Then he looked at the pretty deputy and arched an eyebrow.

“I’ll wait outside.” Audrey’s cheeks pinkened as she walked out.

* * *

Audrey hesitated outside John Doe’s hospital room door and tried to calm the flutter in her stomach. So many thoughts and feelings were swirling through her at the moment. Empathy for John Doe. She couldn’t imagine losing her memories of her father, her childhood, her life. She could only imagine how bleak and desperate the man must be feeling. Not to mention the pain that seemed to hit him every time he tried to remember.

Then there was the embarrassment of having her mother and John witness the acrimony between her and her great-uncle. She usually did a better job of refraining from showing her emotions in public.

She could only attribute her lack of control to the strange and forceful reactions that flared within her the moment John awoke. Beyond empathy, she felt an intense protectiveness, which had manifested in her strong defense of him. A part of her knew it was logical for the sheriff to take the man into custody, but putting him behind bars without any proof of wrongdoing didn’t sit well with her sense of justice.

Hopefully John would soon regain his memories and they could figure out the truth behind what, who and why someone was trying to kill him.

* * *

Left alone, John withdrew his clothes and boots from the bags and stared at them for a long moment. He didn’t remember putting these on. Why was he dressed all in black? For nefarious purposes?

He was thankful the garments were dry as he quickly donned the cargo pants, turtleneck and socks but struggled with the boots. Finally, giving up, he padded to the door and stuck his head out. Audrey and her great-uncle stood near the nurses’ station. The brunette noticed him first and hurried toward him. He tried not to grimace as he held up his hand. “Can you ask Deputy Martin to come here?”

Nurse Sarah pursed her lips, clearly miffed by his request for someone other than her. “Sure.” She walked back to the desk and spoke to Audrey, who nodded and headed his way.

“You need me?”

He did. For reasons he couldn’t explain she grounded him, anchored him to the moment. When he looked at her, thought about her, he only felt peace, comfort. Strange, considering she’d said they’d only just met. Again that niggling feeing she was keeping a secret from him itched, demanding to be scratched. He let it go, confident he’d get her to open up and tell him. Where that confidence came from, he didn’t know. “I need help with the boots. Bending over to undo the laces is more than I can take right now.”

One honey-blond eyebrow arched. “All right.”

She crouched and undid the laces on the right boot and held it out for him to slip his foot into. He watched as her slender and capable hands quickly cinched up the laces and tied the boot snugly.

After the left boot was on, he stood. The world tilted.

He swayed. Audrey wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him close to her side. If he weren’t feeling a bit woozy, he’d have leaned in for a kiss.

He frowned at the thought. Okay, he found Audrey attractive and had some strange connection to her that he didn’t understand, but he’d better keep his emotions in check. He could be married. And he doubted the deputy would appreciate him taking advantage of the situation.

Was he a man that took advantage? He prayed not. Which led to another question—was he a man that prayed?

He hated not knowing who he was.

Some part of his brain said to let go of the past and become who he wanted to be for the future. But that wasn’t really a possibility. Not when there was someone out there willing to hurt other people to end his life.

He knew deep inside, with a certainty he couldn’t deny, he had a responsibility to uncover the truth and to protect those around him.

But he dreaded what the cost would be. He hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be the life of the deputy at his side.