Hope White - Witness on the Run

The nurse shot her a sympathetic smile.

Gripping her briefcase to her chest like a security blanket, Robin inhaled, hoping the scent would trigger some kind of memory. She closed her eyes and sighed.

A few seconds later, someone cleared his throat. She opened her eyes and Jake stood there, not too close, offering a tentative smile. “I thought… I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked scared before.”

“Sir, you shouldn’t be here,” the nurse said.

“No, it’s okay.” Robin sat up a little and fought the urge to brush flyaway hair off her face. Sheesh, girl, he’s not interested in you that way. Not to mention she must look like she’d just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring.

“I’m glad you came back,” Robin said. “What happened tonight, to me?”

“We’re not sure.” He took a slight step closer, but just one. “I was outside the Chambers Building and saw you running. Something spooked you, big time.”

“They think I saw a murder?”

“Yes, but they don’t know for sure.”

Robin attempted a smile. “It’s a good thing you were there.”

“Glad I could help.”

A few seconds of awkward silence stretched between them as the nurse checked a monitor. Jake seemed uncomfortable, but Robin couldn’t figure out why.

“Well, anyway,” he said and turned.

Panic shot through her chest. “Are you leaving?”

He glanced back at her. “I wasn’t going to, not until you’re settled. If that’s okay.”

“Yes, very okay. I mean I’d rather you stay around if you’ve got nothing better to do, which I’m sure you do, but if you didn’t—” She stopped herself. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

The nurse smiled as she checked Robin’s IV.

“You’ve been through a lot tonight,” Jake said. “You’re allowed.”

“Guys hate ramblers.” She remembered that from somewhere.

“Not all guys.” With a half smile he pointed to the door. “I’ll be right outside that door.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She liked Jake and wished he’d been a permanent part of her past. Then again, this could be part of a goofy syndrome that happens when someone is saved by another person.

A handsome man with gentle eyes.

That hit to your head really messed you up.

“I’ve got to check on another patient. I’ll be right back, okay?” the nurse said.

“Sure.”

But Robin was far from okay. She had to get a grip on her discombobulated brain and focus on the problem at hand: remembering.

She clutched her briefcase to her chest, closed her eyes, took a slow, deep breath, determined to remember. Instead, anxiety washed over her. Something important was happening soon, and she was in charge of a lot of people. Yet she’d be lucky if she could cross the street on her own. Her knee was banged up, her head was wonky, and she’d sprained her wrist when she fell to the ground.

You were very lucky.

She’d heard those words at least five times since they’d brought her in. Yes, it could have been so much worse. She considered thanking God for her good fortune, but stopped herself. Somehow she sensed He’d never answered her prayers before, so why give Him the credit?

“Miss Strand, how are you feeling?”

She opened her eyes to the back of a doctor in green scrubs. He was doing something, probably looking over her chart.

“I’ve been better,” she said.

“I’m going to put something in your line to help you sleep tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” The other doctor had said he didn’t want to completely zonk her out. Oh well. Different doctors, different styles.

The doctor stood just behind her bed and fiddled with her IV. “A good night’s sleep might help you move past the trauma.”

“And help me remember?”

“You don’t remember anything about what happened tonight?”

“No. Well, yes. I remembered the guy who helped me. That’s good, right?”

“Remembering anything is good.” He paused. “You don’t remember what you witnessed in the office building?”

“What I witnessed?” she repeated, feeling suddenly cold. “No, I don’t…” Her head felt like a lead weight sinking into the pillow.

“Rest, Miss Strand,” he said, his voice sounding far away. “Everything will be fine.”

The doctor turned to her, a surgical mask covering his face, except for his eyes.

Cold eyes she’d seen before.

“Death eyes,” she whispered as unconsciousness swallowed her.

Jake should leave. There was nothing more he could do here. Even Ethan had told him to go home, that he’d done enough.

That look on Robin’s face kept Jake glued to his chair in the waiting area. At first he thought she’d been terrified of him. Then, just now, she’d looked at him as if she needed him to protect her.

She was vulnerable and alone, and the only thing she remembered about her life before she’d woken up was Jake.

Ironic since they’d never even met.

“Who did you say your client was again?” Detective Dunn pressed.

“I didn’t. I’d have to get his permission to share that with you.”

“There’s no attorney-client privilege here, Walters.”

“True, but he asked me to keep it confidential and since he’s paying my light bill at present…” Jake shrugged.

“How about I take you to the station and question you?”

“Why are you busting my chops?”

Jake eyed a doctor breezing out of the E.R. to the exit, still in his scrubs and face mask.

“I know you’re furious about losing Edwards, but I’m not the bad guy here.” Jake defended himself.

“Well, the least you did was chase the woman into traffic, ruining our chance of her IDing the perp.”

Jake clenched his jaw against the frustration ripping through his chest. He felt bad enough without this guy twisting the knife deeper into his conscience.

“Look, I was there. It was a coincidence.” Jake stood and paced a few feet away, beating back the guilt.

He’d never been able to defend Mom. He’d been scrawny as a kid, skinny and uncoordinated. It wasn’t until he’d joined the service at eighteen that he’d developed his fighting skills and his muscular physique.

“I saw you go in there while I was on the phone,” Dunn said. “What did you say to her?”

Jake was about to shoot the detective a mind-your-own-business retort when he was nearly taken down by two residents rushing past him. They flew into the examining area in a panic.

No. It couldn’t be Robin. A doctor had just left and—

Instinct setting him on edge, Jake headed for the examining area. Dunn blocked him.

“Please get out of my way,” Jake said, as calmly as possible. His heart raced at the thought of his worst fear coming true.

The killer walking right past him and Detective Dunn…

…and killing Robin Strand while they stood there, just outside the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dunn said.

Any second now the cuffs were coming out. Jake couldn’t protect her if he was sitting in lockup.

“To check on the woman,” Jake said.

“She’s fine.”

Another doctor and nurse scrambled past them into the E.R. as a Code Blue echoed through the hospital’s PA system.

Jake glared at Detective Dunn. “She’s not fine.”

He stepped around Dunn and marched into the examining area. Medical staff shifted around Robin’s bed in a mass of frantic motion.

“Still dropping,” a nurse said. “Ninety over sixty.”

Jake stepped closer. Robin looked pale and weak. He felt incredibly helpless. Like before, like all the times he couldn’t protect Mom.

This woman, so young and vibrant, didn’t deserve what had happened to her tonight. She didn’t deserve to die because she’d been in the wrong place at the worst possible time.