Кей Хупер - Hiding in the Shadows

Faith shook her head. "It was ... it was almost as if I were watching a movie. Just looking on and listening in while we talked. I don't know what she was thinking, what I was thinking. All I know is that I had found something, and for some reason I didn't want her to know I'd found it, at least not until I could ..."

"Could what?"

She groped for the elusive knowledge, and finally sighed in defeat. "I don't know. I just don't know. I'm sorry."

"Think carefully, Faith. Was there anything at all that could help us figure out where Dinah is?"

Unwillingly, she thought of that cold, damp place with its concrete floors and shadowy walls, thought of the two men interrogating Dinah, one unemotionally efficient in dealing out agony and the other urgently insistent on getting information from her before she died.

She's dying. I know that. How can I tell him?

And like a distant answering whisper in her mind came the words, You can't tell him .

"Faith?"

Steadily, she said, "I don't think so. There was something vaguely familiar about the hallway of that building where I was looking for evidence, but I have no idea what or where it is. In fact, I have no real sense of where either of those two memories took place."

"Do you think you'd recognize either place if you saw it again?"

"That hallway, yes. The other ... I don't know. But the hallway, that would seem more important. If I was looking for evidence there — and if I found something — then it has to help us find Dinah. Doesn't it?"

"I wish I knew."

"We can look for it. Begin with places that seem likely — the building where I worked, others in the area. It's a start, isn't it?"

"Yes. Of course it is."

She gazed at his face, feeling a strong pang of loneliness. He was entirely focused on Dinah, thinking of nothing except possible ways of finding her. It reminded Faith yet again of how unconnected she was, to anything or anyone.

"I wish I could be more help," she said. "I'm sorry."

Kane looked at her. "You are helping, Faith. You've given me more pieces of the puzzle than I've been able to find in all the weeks since Dinah disappeared."

"But we still don't know what the puzzle is supposed to look like."

"We'll figure it out," Kane said.

Faith hoped he was right. But all she could do at the moment was wonder wretchedly if it was all her fault that Dinah was dying. And wonder what Kane would do when he found out.

"There's really nothing more I can tell you, Miss Parker." Dr. Murphy closed the folder and gazed across her desk. "Your visits here during the time you've been my patient have all been unexceptional, regular checkups or very minor complaints. I continued the prescription for contraceptives you'd been using before you came to Atlanta, but the only other medication I prescribed was a course of antibiotics for a mild infection."

Faith wasn't sure how to phrase the questions she wanted to ask. Finally, she chose bluntness.

"So I was sexually active?"

The doctor's brows rose slightly, and a flicker of sympathy showed in her eyes. "You don't even remember that?"

"I don't remember anything before waking up in the hospital."

"That's ... quite unusual. Amnesia tends to center around the traumatic incident. The patient seldom recalls the events just before the trauma occurred. But in virtually every case I know of, the missing time is only a matter of hours or days."

"In my case, years are missing. A lifetime, in fact."

Faith managed a smile. "And I'm trying desperately to collect the pieces of my life and put them back together. So anything you can tell me, Doctor ..."

Dr. Murphy laced her fingers together atop the file on her blotter and gazed at Faith steadily. "I see. I hadn't realized your amnesia was so extensive. That would, however, explain the changes I see in you."

"Changes?"

"In your manner and bearing, your eyes. You said you visited Haven House yesterday. They told you there was abuse in your background?"

"Yes. Though Karen didn't know any details. I gather my ex-husband was ... physically abusive?"

"Physically and emotionally. You told me you had warned this man to stay away from you, and that you had some confidence that he would because you had medical evidence of past injuries that could end his career and put him behind bars."

"Is he the reason I came to Atlanta? Did I want to get three thousand miles away from him?"

"I couldn't say, Miss Parker. You never said as much to me. And I honestly don't know if you were afraid he'd follow you here. I referred you to Haven House because you displayed many of the aftereffects of abuse. You had tension headaches and a low resistance to infection, a poor appetite. Your sleep was disturbed more often than not, and you were reluctant to make friends or form emotional attachments. I thought it would be healthier for you to spend time with other women who had suffered abuse, especially since you had done so the last few months you'd lived in Seattle."

"And did it appear to you that Haven House and the women there helped me?" Faith had no idea where her dispassionate voice was coming from; all she knew was that they were discussing what seemed to be the life of a stranger.

"I believe so. I saw steady improvement."

"And yet you say that I'm more different now?"

"Yes. There's a certain look many abuse victims share, a certain tension in their bearing and actions. That was evident the last time I saw you. It isn't today. If I didn't know, I would never guess you'd been abused."

Questions about that abusive ex-husband rose in her mind, but Faith was all too aware that the doctor could not answer them.

"I wish there was more I could tell you," Dr. Murphy said with obvious sympathy. "But you were reluctant even to confide in me as much as you did, and probably wouldn't have except that you said your doctor back in Seattle had urged you to make me aware of the history of abuse for medical reasons."

"Medical reasons?"

"The effects of abuse can last for years, Miss. Parker, both physically and emotionally, and it's always wise to make your doctor aware of the background in such cases. You had no lingering problems from physical injuries, but knowing your history would make me more apt to Spot Complications in the future."

Faith decided not to ask what those complications might be. Instead, she said, "I see. Thank you, Doctor. For the information, and for taking time out of a busy morning to talk to me."

"You are my patient, Miss Parker." For the first time, Dr. Murphy smiled. "I only wish there was more I could tell you."

"You've ... told me a lot," Faith said.

"You were a long time," Kane said when she got into his car outside the clinic. "Did you have to wait for the doctor?"

"No, she saw me right away."

"So? Did she prescribe muscle relaxants?"

Faith shook her head. "No."

Kane had his hand on the gearshift, but paused before putting the car into motion and gazed at her questioningly. "What else did she tell you?"

Impossible to keep the information to herself, no matter how much she wanted to; for all Faith knew, that violent ex-husband might lie behind all the violent things that had happened. So she told Kane, staring through the windshield all the while because she couldn't meet his eyes.

"That gives us another possibility, I suppose," she finished, her voice very steady. "It doesn't seem to fit with what I've been remembering, but it's conceivable that he's somehow involved. But the doctor didn't know his name, and I can't remember it. Easy enough to find out, I suppose."

"Faith." Kane put a hand on her shoulder and turned her until she looked at him. "I'm sorry."

She wondered if the return of her memory would mean she'd be unable to bear a man's hands on her. It seemed an all possibility at the moment.