Liz Johnson - Stolen Memories

Almost certainly Serena’s training and experience were the only things keeping her jaw from flapping open at his declaration. Her eyes were bright with the revelation of the second attack, and she held her packet even tighter below her chin. “Is she all right?”

“She’ll be okay. The doctor said there was no permanent damage. But I hope you can see why I’m hesitant to add to her emotional strain, especially knowing that she hasn’t been able to remember anything, and this is probably all a dead end.”

Josh caught Serena’s gaze yet again, his eyebrows pinching together as he pressed his hands deeper into his pockets. “So she saw someone last night?”

“Ye-es.” Zach dragged the word out, not quite sure where Josh was going with his line of questions.

“So she could identify him?”

“Yes. She could probably pick him out of a lineup or identify a mug shot.”

Serena’s smile dipped, turning grim as her brown eyes squinted directly at him. She had to be picking up on his hesitation. As silence hung over their small group, she rubbed her chin and glanced at the ground.

Josh watched her closely, his stance alert, but he held back, letting her take the lead, despite a nearly palpable tension radiating from him.

“Zach, it’s imperative that we talk with your witness. We have to know as much information as she can give us. There are lives on the line—babies are disappearing.”

Babies.

His gut clenched. Hard. This was bigger than the missing baby he was already looking for. And he couldn’t look himself in the mirror if he didn’t do everything in his power to help those kids.

With his hands on his hips, he asked, “What’s going on?”

The marshals glanced at each other again, and Josh gave a quick nod before speaking. “Serena and I have been keeping tabs on a man named Don Saunders.”

Josh paused, as though waiting for any reaction from Zach. “Never heard of him.”

“Don was arrested in connection to a murder and was being transported for questioning in police custody near Saint Louis, but a couple of his buddies staged a car accident, and he escaped.”

Zach sucked in a harsh breath. Letting a suspect escape could shatter an officer’s confidence. Being a cop was hard enough when everything was going right. But a man could drive himself crazy wondering what he could have done differently.

Poor guy.

But what did this have to do with Julie and missing babies?

Serena seemed to be able to read his mind, answering the question before he could ask it. “Other marshals tracked Don down in Denver, where they found him about to board a plane with an unidentified child. We still haven’t been able to locate the baby’s parents or figure out where she came from.

“Don escaped again before we could figure out what was going on, but we were able to locate Sam Wilson, one of the guys who helped to set up the last break. At first he was pretty closemouthed, but after a few weeks in custody, he folded like a hot dog bun, revealing that he’d been working with a man named Frank Adams to stage the car accident. According to Sam, Frank has a place pretty close to this area, although we don’t know exactly where.”

Like dominoes tumbling down in a row, the pieces of the story all fell into place. Zach nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest to keep the edges of his jacket from whipping around in the breeze. “So you figure that a missing baby near Frank’s known hideout might have a connection to this Don Saunders.” He didn’t bother phrasing it as a question, and Serena’s slow nod confirmed his assessment of the situation.

“We’re running out of leads to follow up on.” Josh tugged at his earlobe, hunching his shoulders. “This is the best tip we’ve got.”

Zach couldn’t stop a humorless chuckle from escaping. “A woman who doesn’t know her own name is your best lead?”

With mirrored smiles, Josh and Serena nodded. “It may be a long shot, but if Julie can identify Frank in any way, then we can confirm he is—or at least was recently—in the area. And then we know who we’re looking for.”

All right. There was no way to protect Julie from this questioning. And when she knew the truth about the missing child, she’d pummel her own mind to unearth the details and solve the disappearance.

As he led the marshals into the busy hospital, Zach shot up a quick prayer that this meeting would lead to the location of the missing baby and not derail any progress Julie had made thus far.

* * *

Julie leaned against her bed, the muscles in her legs trembling after the short walk across the room. She’d barely splashed water on her face, combed her new hairstyle and checked out the swelling around her eye before her strength had vanished. But she’d pushed herself to get back across the room. No way did she want the nurse—or Zach—finding her in a heap on the bathroom floor.

“Julie?”

She yanked the belt of her robe tighter at her waist before looking up into Zach’s face. But he wasn’t alone. Grabbing the lapels, she pulled them together beneath her chin, never taking her gaze off the tall man and slender woman standing just behind Zach.

He hustled across the room, cupping her elbow and helping her slide back onto her bed, her slippered feet dangling just above the floor.

“Are you all right? You look really pale.” His grip on her arm loosened, but he didn’t back away.

She nodded slowly. “I’m okay.” Her gaze traveled back to the couple still in the doorway. Her questions must have shown on her face, as Zach didn’t wait for her to ask them before answering.

“These are the U.S. Marshals I told you about last night.” A quick glance over his shoulder had the woman walking quickly across the room, her hand outstretched.

“Serena Summers.” Her grip was gentle around Julie’s brace, but her smile didn’t quite wrinkle the fine lines at the edge of her eyes. “And this is my partner, Josh McCall.”

The man strode toward them, his gaze even and detached. No, that wasn’t quite right. He was engaged but calm, a shield of professionalism blocking his true emotions.

Julie wrapped her arms around her middle. Maybe she could just crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head. Whatever they wanted with her, she couldn’t give it to them. It certainly would require remembering more than that her face didn’t usually look like it had been used as a punching bag.

But that was all she had at the moment.

And only God knew how much longer it would be that way. The doctor had said he didn’t think it was a permanent condition, but he couldn’t pinpoint when her memory would return.

Until then she wouldn’t be much help to anyone.

Zach dropped his hand, and she immediately missed the warmth. “The marshals think that you might have come into contact with someone that they’re searching for.”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Do you think the man you’re looking for is the one who attacked me? I can’t remember anything from before that night.”

“Detective Jones filled us in on your condition. I’m so sorry. But we hope you might be able to help us.”

How was she supposed to respond to that? She was sorry about it, too. It didn’t change the reality.

“We’d appreciate it if you’d take a look at a headshot to see if you recognize him.” Serena snapped the elastic tie from around her file and flipped through the pages within.

Julie looked at Zach, who nodded slowly, his eyes bright with hope and encouragement. “All right. I’ll try.”

Serena held out a five-by-seven image, the man in the picture standing against the evenly spaced height lines of a police wall, a black plaque at his chest announcing his name as Adams, Frank. His hair was dark and ruffled, maybe beginning to gray at the temples. He had narrow-set eyes that looked almost black, but it could have been just a shadow. The bridge of his nose zigged and zagged, clearly broken at least twice. Thin lips were nearly hidden behind a five o’clock shadow, which could do nothing to camouflage the pink scar that slashed across his chin. It ran from the corner of his mouth toward the center of his jaw, perhaps a reminder of a fight gone terribly wrong.