A Thanksgiving To Remember. Margaret Watson

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СКАЧАТЬ urgency back. Tina must have seen the change, because she sat down and leaned toward him. “What is it?”

      “I don’t know. But whenever you mention the police, I get this sense of urgency. Like there’s something I should know.”

      He saw her hesitate, saw her knuckles whiten on the metal rail of his bed. “I’ll tell you what happened last night, what led up to your accident, at least as far as we know. Maybe that will help you to remember.”

      “You don’t have to do that, Ms. White. I’ll talk to Mr. Flynt.”

      Detective Bob Jones stood in the doorway, looking at her. Assessing her.

      She raised her chin. “Mr. Flynt has amnesia, Detective. He can’t remember anything, including his name.”

      The detective looked over at him, and Tom could see the hard cynicism in his eyes. “That’s convenient.”

      “It’s the truth,” Tina said hotly. “You can ask Dr. Wilson. He was in here just a few minutes ago.”

      “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to the doc,” said Detective Jones. “But first I want to talk to Mr. Flynt, here.”

      Tina moved over to stand next to him. It almost looked as if she were trying to protect him. “You can talk to him for a while, Detective. But he’s got serious injuries and I won’t let you badger him.”

      “I don’t badger anyone,” the detective said, but he was watching Tom instead of Tina. “I just ask questions.”

      “Ask away,” said Tom.

      The detective studied him for a while, and Tom stared back. There was nothing familiar about the older man’s face. “Do I know you?” Tom finally asked.

      The detective shook his head. “Never met. I’m Bob Jones, with the Grand Springs Police Department. My partner will be in soon.” He jerked his head toward the door. “He’s talking to the nurses right now.”

      Trying to verify everything I’m telling him, Tom thought, surprising himself with his certainty. He filed the information away and focused on the detective.

      Bob Jones stared at him for a moment, trying to intimidate him. Again, Tom wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he did. Finally the detective said, “So you don’t remember anything that happened to you last night.”

      “Detective, I don’t remember anything at all, including my name. I’m taking it on faith that it’s Tom Flynt.”

      “That was the name on the driver’s license we found with you,” the detective said deliberately.

      Tom frowned at him. “Are you saying that it’s a false driver’s license?” he asked after a moment.

      “I’m not saying anything. I’m just stating a fact. And I’m the one asking the questions.” He leaned closer. “Do you remember Grand Springs?”

      “Not at all. Do I live here?”

      “Apparently not. The address on your driver’s license is from Missouri. The St. Louis area. Does that ring a bell?”

      Tom thought for a moment and almost shook his head until the stabbing pain reminded him not to. “No. St. Louis sounds as unfamiliar as everything else.”

      The detective nodded, as if that were what he’d expected Tom to say. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle. “This look familiar?”

      He was holding a driver’s license, and Tom could tell it was his. He remembered the face from the glimpse he’d gotten in the mirror earlier. Otherwise, it looked like a complete stranger. “No, it doesn’t,” he said quietly.

      The detective reached into a bag and pulled out a huge, ugly handgun. “How about this?”

      Tom heard Tina gasp beside him, but he didn’t look up at her. “I don’t remember that, either.”

      “The paramedics found it strapped to your back.” He narrowed his eyes and gave Tom a hard look. “You didn’t have a permit with you to carry concealed.”

      “I don’t know what to say, Detective.” Tom continued staring at the gun. “I honestly don’t remember.”

      The detective stared at him for a few moments, then dropped the gun back into the bag. “We’ll be holding on to this for the time being. Let me tell you what happened last night.”

      Tom managed to nod. He was beginning to get a really bad feeling from Detective Jones.

      “There was a big masquerade ball here at the Grand Springs Empress Hotel last night. It was thrown by Jonathan Steele, CEO of Steele Enterprises. At this ball, Steele’s half brother David and his wife Lisa were shot and killed. Two people ran out of the hotel and drove away. You were one of them. We found you by the side of the road, half an hour later. Your car had gone off the road and rolled over.”

      The detective gave him a hard look. “So you can see why we want to talk to you. We want to know who you are. And why you ran out of that ball.”

      “I’d like to know that myself.” Tom held the detective’s gaze, although his head throbbed with pain. “When I remember, you’ll be the first to know.”

      Jones’s hard, assessing gaze stayed on him for what felt like a long time, then he nodded. “I’ll be back to talk to you later, when we get more information. In the meantime, don’t think about leaving town.”

      Before Tom could answer, Tina stepped in front of him and faced Detective Jones. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now, Detective,” she said, and Tom heard the steel in her voice. “Mr. Flynt has a serious injury and I won’t allow you to badger him.”

      A wave of gratitude welled up inside Tom, but he couldn’t allow himself to look at Tina. He continued to watch the detective. “It’s all right, Ms. White. Detective Jones can ask all the questions he wants.”

      “I’m through for now,” Jones answered, but his stony gaze swept from Tom to Tina and back. “But I’ll be back.”

      He turned and walked out of the room. When he was finally gone, Tina turned back to him. “How dare he imply that you’re somehow connected to that murder?”

      Tom shrugged. “He’s looking at the evidence, and so far it would seem to support that. Apparently since I ran out of the ball after the shooting, that makes me a suspect in his eyes.”

      “No one, including you, knows why you ran out of that room,” Tina said flatly. “I thought a person is innocent until proven guilty.”

      “He’s just doing his job,” Tom answered quietly.

      Before Tina could respond, another man walked into the room. Rugged and broad shouldered, his gray eyes were just as penetrating as Detective Jones’s. He glanced at Tina, then examined Tom thoroughly.

      “Your partner just left.” Tom couldn’t have said why he thought this man was a police officer, but he was sure of it.

      The blond man gave him a quick grin. “For a СКАЧАТЬ