Liz Johnson - Stolen Memories

IF ONLY SHE COULD REMEMBER…

Attacked and left for dead, “Julie Thomas” has amnesia, and doesn’t know why anyone would want to hurt her. But when surveillance video of that night shows Julie holding a baby—a baby nowhere to be found—she panics. Is the child hers? Where is she now? With no answers and no place to go, Julie accepts Detective Zach Jones’s offer to help her solve both mysteries. The handsome, loyal cop makes her feel safe. But someone is trying very hard to make sure her memories stay buried forever.

Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight

“Whoever attacked me at the park still wants me dead,” Julie said.

She spoke with such certainty and calm, yet every muscle in Zach’s body tensed, every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. She was in danger.

He swallowed the guilt that rose in his throat. “I am sorry. This is my fault.” Every syllable threatened to choke him, each one harder than the last. “I promised I’d take care of you. And instead I revealed right where you are.”

She shook her head and slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “It wasn’t your fault, Zach. But he’ll come looking for me again.”

The fingers in his grip began a slow tremor, quaking even more with every rise and fall of her chest. She was terrified.

Whoever they were dealing with, whoever had attacked her in that park, had disappeared.

* * *

WITNESS PROTECTION: Hiding in plain sight

Safe by the Marshal’s Side—Shirlee McCoy, January 2014

The Baby Rescue—Margaret Daley, February 2014

Stolen Memories—Liz Johnson, March 2014

Top Secret Identity—Sharon Dunn, April 2014

Family in Hiding—Valerie Hansen, May 2014

Undercover Marriage—Terri Reed, June 2014

LIZ JOHNSON

After graduating from Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff with a degree in public relations, Liz Johnson set out to work in the Christian publishing industry, which was her lifelong dream. In 2006 she got her wish when she accepted a publicity position with a major trade book publisher. While working as a publicist in the industry, she decided to pursue her other dream—becoming an author. Along the way to having her novels published, she wrote articles for several magazines and worked as a freelance editorial consultant.

Liz makes her home in Nashville, Tennessee, where she enjoys theater, exploring her new home and making frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nephew and three nieces. She loves stories of true love with happy endings.

Stolen Memories

Liz Johnson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This is the covenant I will make with them after that time, says the Lord.

I will put my laws in their hearts, and I will write them on their minds.

—Hebrews 10:16

For Kaye and Ruth, who encouraged me as I wrote this book. True friendship is an uncommon and special gift. I’ll never forget yours.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

Zach Jones ran his hand down his face until his fingers covered a yawn. Letting out a muted sigh, he stared through the windshield of his parked car, seeing nothing but the lights lining the Minneapolis street. After a long day of chasing down dead ends, he was ready for a couple days off.

A quick glance at the clock on his dashboard revealed that his shift was almost over. Time to head back to the station before turning in for the night. He’d just put the unmarked sedan into gear when the police radio in his car squawked, and he leaned over to turn it up.

“Possible dead body at the corner of Thomas Road and Gavel Drive at Webster Park.” His stomach lurched, his pulse flying. That was just a few blocks away.

Tossing the radio handset into the empty passenger seat, he flipped on the sirens and pulled onto the nearly deserted road. Usually he was the last one to the scene. Homicide was always called in after a dozen patrol officers had swarmed the area.

This close to the scene, he’d probably even beat the uniforms there.

“This is Jones. I’m en route.”

The dispatcher replied with a quick, “Ten-four.” Then after a short pause she added, “Two boys cutting through the park found the body.”

“Are they still at the scene?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Tell them to stay away from the body but not to move. I’ll have questions for them later.”

Trees just beginning to sprout their spring leaves sailed by as he maneuvered around a car pulled over to the side of the road to get out of his way. The lights of the restaurants and stores of the commercial district to his left faded, his mind focused on the scene he was about to reach.

Pulling off the road, he parked at the entrance of a walking path, turned off the sirens but left the red-and-blue lights flashing. He was the first on the scene. He slipped his phone into his pocket, tucked his flashlight into his belt and pulled on rubber gloves as he followed the beam of his headlights.

Two boys, probably no more than twelve, sat next to each other on a wooden bench, hugging their hockey skates as though he was going to demand they give them up. He pushed back his jacket to show them the badge hanging around his neck, a late winter wind seeping through the fabric of his shirt. “You boys call the cops?”

The bigger boy nodded a mop of dark brown hair and let go of his skates long enough to point behind him into the shadows.

Zach squinted but couldn’t make out a form between the tree trunks. “Did you go near the body?”

“No, sir.” Again from the bigger boy. The little one with the blond crew cut hadn’t blinked since Zach arrived. He was probably in shock from what he’d seen.

How bad was it over there?

His skin crawled, the hair on his arms standing up. It wasn’t from the cold. Or even from this case. This wasn’t his first day in the department.

It was something in the air. Something that, after ten years with the Minneapolis P.D., he could almost smell. Something that, after all this time, he still couldn’t name.

“You boys stay here. Okay? Other officers are on their way. And I’ll be right back.”

Swinging his flashlight across the grass at his feet to make sure he didn’t inadvertently step on a vital piece of evidence, he picked his way in the direction the kid had first indicated. After thirty yards, the light from his car was almost no help. A curtain of rich gray clouds had fallen in front of the moon, so he slowed to a near crawl.

And then he saw it.

A crimson pool coated a patch of lawn the size of a dinner plate.

Shivers ran down his spine and he sucked in a quick breath as he flicked his light up to illuminate the body. It was a woman with long dark hair, which was matted across half of her face with her own blood. She lay on her side, one arm stretched out under her head and the other curled under her chin. Her full lips were nearly white.