Journey Back to Christmas. Leigh Duncan

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      “That’s what we’re here for, ma’am.” He took the lead while Sarah whipped a notebook out of her pocket and began taking notes. “What seems to be the problem?”

      “Well, I… I had an accident last night.” She worried her lower lip with even white teeth. “My car got stuck in a snowdrift. I made it to a barn, but then I, I passed out or something. When I woke up, everything was… different.” Slowly, she stared at the police car at the curb as if she’d never seen one like it. “And I don’t know how to get back home. Can you help me?”

      “You say you were in an accident?” Jake gave the woman an appraising look. Her clothing, though odd, seemed to be intact. She had no obvious injuries.

      “Yes…” Her soft voice faded. “I made it as far as the gazebo.” She took a step toward the street. “I just, I just need to find my car. And my purse. I think I left it in the barn.”

      “Whoa, now!” Jake grasped the woman by the arm. In her current state, she could walk into traffic and get hurt. “I think the first thing we ought to do is get you checked out. Make sure you haven’t bumped your head or something. Then, we’ll have a look around for that car. Let’s let my partner here get some information. Okay?”

      “Name,” Sarah asked, focused on her notebook.

      “Hanna. Hanna Morse. I live at 166 Elm Street.” Giving Sarah a puzzled look, she asked, “When did Central Falls hire a woman police officer?”

      “I’ve been on the force three months, ma’am.” Turning far enough to one side that Hanna couldn’t see, Sarah rolled her eyes. Her words aimed for his ears only, she added, “Elm Street’s in the business district. Pretty sure the Organic Planet is at 166.”

      Jake nodded and keyed his mic. “Dispatch. Tell Chief Munson we’re en route to Doc Lipscomb’s with one Hanna Morse. Ask him to meet us there.” Whatever was wrong with the woman they’d found, Jake had a feeling they’d need Chief Munson’s help in getting to the bottom of it.

      Twenty minutes later, Jake motioned Sarah to her feet as the chief stood when Dr. Jessica Lipsomb entered the waiting area of the small clinic. “Hanna Morse appears to be healthy,” she announced to a trio of relieved smiles. “She has no obvious signs of a concussion. Her vision is fine. She has no headaches. I know you’re eager to ask her some questions. She agreed to talk with you while we finish up here.”

      Dr. Lipscomb beckoned the three of them to join her in the exam room. There, she took a blood pressure cuff from a rack on the wall. Aiming a reassuring smile at the patient seated on the exam table, she wrapped the device around Hanna’s arm. For the next few minutes, the doctor alternated several routine tests with questions that Jake thanked his lucky stars she’d never had to ask him.

      “How long do you think you were unconscious?” Dr. Lipscomb placed the cuff back in its holder.

      “I don’t know.” Hanna shook her head. “I, um, I heard a big boom. It was thunder, during the storm.”

      Jake studied the slender blonde. “The storm?”

      Beside him, Sarah gave her notepad an attention-getting tap-tap-tap and said, “There was no storm last night.” She challenged Hanna with a firm look. “Weather was clear as a bell.”

      “What? No!” Hanna protested. “It was terrible. The thunder and the lightning. There was a strange glow in the sky. After that, though, I must have fallen asleep because that’s all I remember.” She peered up at them. “Do you think I’m dreaming? You all seem so real, but everything—it, it doesn’t seem right.”

      Chief Munson leaned forward to ask, “How long were you in the shed before you came out?”

      “Just the night,” Hanna answered immediately. “My car got stuck in the snow.”

      “Her vital signs are normal,” Dr. Lipscomb announced over one shoulder. She held her pen in front of Hanna’s face and moved it slowly to one side.

      Ignoring the doctor, Hanna rambled on about dreams. “I was reading Ladies’ Home Journal once, and they had a story on dreams, how they seem real, but…”

      “Shhhh,” Dr. Lipscomb hushed her patient. “Just follow the light with your eyes.”

      A burst of static sounded in Jake’s ear. He pressed his earbud and listened as reports filtered in from his fellow police officers. So far, no one on the force had spotted an abandoned vehicle anywhere within the city limits. The minute Dr. Lipscomb finished testing Hanna’s vision, Jake updated Chief Munson on the search.

      “Maybe we’re looking for the wrong vehicle,” the chief suggested. He shifted his focus to the confused young woman. “Can you tell me the make and model?”

      Jake studied the perplexed frown that crossed Hanna’s features. He wasn’t at all surprised when she asked, “Of what?”

      “Of your car,” the chief said in the patient voice that earned him the respect of staff and suspects alike. “What kind of car do you have?”

      “A Hudson. It’s a Hudson.”

      “A what?” Sarah blurted.

      Jake smiled to himself. He knew exactly what a Hudson was. There’d been a time when he’d have given his eyeteeth for one of the classic cars.

      “My husband bought it right before the war,” Hanna offered.

      Chief Munson traded a glance with Jake. Now they were getting somewhere. “And has he been contacted?” the chief asked. “Your husband?”

      Jake’s chest squeezed at the look of incredible sadness that crossed Hanna’s face.

      “No.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He died. In the war.”

      “I’m sorry to hear that,” the chief said, while silence filled the room. “Was he deployed in Iraq? Or Afghanistan?”

      The perplexed look that Jake was starting to recognize swam through Hanna’s eyes. “He was in Malmedy,” she said with a sad sigh.

      Jake fought an urge to scratch his head. If he remembered his high school history lessons correctly, Malmedy was the site of the worst POW massacre… of World War II. A single glance at Dr. Lipscomb put any doubt of the matter to rest. And no wonder, considering the Medal of Honor on display in her office. Her grandfather had fought and died in the Battle of the Bulge.

      The doctor smoothed one hand down the front of her lab coat. “Mrs. Morse,” she said before the chief had a chance to ask his next question, “what’s today’s date?”

      “December 16th.” The petite blonde hesitated. “No. The 17th. December 17th,” she said, growing more sure of herself.

      “And where are we?” the doctor asked as if she wasn’t trying to poke holes in Hanna’s story. “What city?”

      Hanna’s pert features brightened. She knew the answer to this one. “Why, in Central Falls, of course.”

      “And the name of the president?”

      Certainty СКАЧАТЬ