Кей Хупер - Hiding in the Shadows

"No headaches? Dizziness?"

"No, nothing like that." Sometimes I hear the sounds of water rushing, just inside my head, you understand, but that's probably nothing at all to worry about ...

"Any unusual muscle weakness or numbness anywhere?"

"No."

Burnett nodded again and studied her soberly.

"Any memories come back?"

"Not really." Faith shrugged, wincing when she felt a twinge of pain in her arm. "More knowledge. I found out I play the piano, for instance. I ... found out some things about my past, my life before I came to Atlanta, but not through remembering. Sometimes I have dreams that might be memory, but it doesn't feel that way."

He frowned. "Faith, I'd like you to talk to Dr. Wilson again."

Wilson was the psychologist on staff.

Faith said, "But she told me last time to expect odd dreams and flashes of knowledge. She said it could go on for months, even years, until my conscious mind felt more stable and ... grounded in day-to-day experiences. Until I built new memories."

"I still think you should talk to her again."

Giving in, at least to all appearances, Faith nodded. "Okay, I'll make an appointment."

"Good." Burnett's frown still lingered. "I was a bit surprised to see you come in today with Kane MacGregor."

"Oh? Why? Dinah is my friend, after all."

"I know that. And I know you feel you need to hold on to that connection to the past, but..."

Quietly, Faith said, "Dr. Burnett, my friend is missing. I don't remember my life before the accident, but the one thing I have clear evidence of is Dinah's friendship. If there's anything I can do to help her... her fiancée find her, then I'll do it."

"Without your memory, how can you help?"

Well, Doctor, it seems I'm tapped in to Dinah's mind somehow, hearing her voice — maybe — and sometimes I get to watch her being tortured ...

Faith sighed. "There isn't much I can do, granted. But we ... we think Dinah may have vanished because she was investigating something dangerous, something I got her involved in."

"Something dangerous? Faith, without your memory any useful information or guidance, to provide don't you realize what a mistake it would be to probe into a potentially dangerous situation filled with unknowns?"

"That's why I came in today with Kane. I'm in good hands, Dr. Burnett, I promise you."

His gaze flicked to her bandaged arm. "Are you?"

"I told you, the shot was a fluke."

"And if it wasn't?"

"If it wasn't ... I'll stay away from windows from now on."

Burnett drew a breath and spoke in a carefully neutral tone of voice. "Faith, it's quite obvious that Kane Macgregor would do anything and everything in his power to find Dinah Leighton. After so many weeks with no sign of her, he must be getting desperate. Desperate enough to be less mindful of his methods than the results he might obtain."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you aren't his priority, Faith. You aren't his first concern. Dinah Leighton is."

"I realize that," she said steadily.

"Do you? And do you also realize that he might well be willing to sacrifice your safety or even you if that means finding out what happened to Dinah?"

"Yes," Faith replied. "Yes, I also realize that."

"I need to go by the office for a few minutes," Kane said as they left the hospital.

Faith thought he kept talking, thought he was explaining something about a call he'd received about a problem on a job site, but she could no longer hear him. The sounds of rushing water drowned out his words. She stared straight ahead through the windshield, trying not to flinch away from what she heard even though the force of it was almost overwhelming.

And it wasn't just the sound. Panic was crawling around in her head; the sense of being smothered, of not having enough room, not nearly enough room, paralyzed her. The musty smell of damp earth was so strong she kept her breathing shallow, trying desperately not to inhale that moldy dampness, and she had the eerie certainty that if she looked down at herself she'd find her clothing wet, her skin dripping.

I am wide awake. So why does this feel like a nightmare?

Gradually, so gradually that at first Faith hardly noticed, darkness closed around her. She could see nothing. Feel nothing except the sense of heaviness all around her, of walls too close to bear. She was trapped, helpless. The awful smell grew stronger, so much so that she had the urge to cough to get it out of her throat. And now there was a new sound added to the rushing water. A clicking. No — a clinking. Metal on metal? Not rhythmic but erratic, weak, uncertain ...

If I can just get this loose ... if I can get my hands free before they come back ...

Oh, damn, why won't my fingers work? It's so dark. I hate the dark. I hate this place. Why did they have to put me here? There's no room, no air to breathe. Too close, the walls are too close, the ceiling ... I've got to get out of here before I ... before they ... Why is this so hard? Why can't I...

"Faith?"

Why can't I move? If there was just a little light. Just a little more room to move. If I only had more time. If only it didn't hurt so much...

"Faith!"

She came back to herself with an abruptness.

Light flooded her vision, and the sudden cessation of the sounds of rushing water made the quiet of the car seem almost deafening.

And the familiar voice that had been in her head, its vibrant personality still incredibly strong despite distance and despair and suffering, was gone as though it had never been there.

"Faith, for God's sake..."

She blinked at Kane, realizing that he was holding her shoulders and was shaking her. Her arm ached dully beneath his grip, but it was nothing compared to the agony that had been in her mind.

"I'm all right," she murmured.

His fingers tightened painfully, then released her.

"You want to tell me what in hell happened? One minute we were talking, and the next you were so far away I couldn't reach you."

Faith realized that he had stopped the car, that they were in an underground parking garage.

"I ... I'm not quite sure what happened," she said.

"Tell me what you are sure of."

She was still too dazed to attempt any prevarication, so she told him.

"I ... It was Dinah. Her voice in my head. She was trying to get loose, to escape."

Kane reached out again, this time putting a hand over both of hers where they twisted together in her lap. "Where is she, Faith?"

"I don't know. It's dark and damp and smells musty, like dirt — and all I could hear was the sound of rushing water."

"Water?"

"Yes. Like a waterfall, or water coming out of a pipe at high pressure. Just water. Just water and darkness and that awful smell ... "

"Right here is where we ran into the problem." Max Sanders, owner of the Mayfair Construction Company, jabbed a stubby finger at the blueprints spread out on Kane's drafting table. "Without some kind of correction, and fast, this wall's coming down, Kane. There are already cracks in the foundation."

Kane frowned. "Let's see the materials list again."

"Jed swears It's a design flaw rather than construction or materials."

"He would."

The foreman always did.

"Not that I agree with him." Sanders produced the materials list. "But I've looked the stuff over, and it's just what you insisted on, the best quality and well above code."

"So why is the foundation cracking?" Kane mused.

"Exactly. I honestly don't believe the crew picked up, Kane." Sanders darted a quick, apologetic glance at Faith.

Kane could have told him that she wasn't listening and so wouldn't be offended by the language. She was sitting on the sofa on the far side of the room with a magazine open on her lap, but as far as he could see she hadn't turned a page in more than twenty minutes. She had retreated into herself not long after they had arrived.