Identity Unknown. Terri Reed

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СКАЧАТЬ advertised. “I can’t imagine having anything taste better than this.”

      Audrey wiped her mouth with a napkin before replying. “Right. I’m telling you, Fran’s is the best. Her recipe has won awards.”

      “Tell me about you.” He picked up a bottle of water that Fran had also supplied.

      “Me?” She shook her head. “Not much to tell.”

      “Are you married? Kids?” He didn’t think so, since there were no photos of her with a man or child, but it felt normal to ask, like something he’d do in his life prior to waking up in the hospital.

      Her gaze collided with his. “No to both. What about you?”

      His mouth twisted in a rueful grimace. “I wish I knew. You’d think if I were married, if I had a family waiting for me that would be something I’d remember.”

      “Unless you wanted to forget.”

      He considered her words. His pulse ticked up a notch. “Maybe that’s why I can’t remember my past. There’s something I want to forget.”

      “Being hit over the head and thrown in the ocean are traumatic events. Your brain may be protecting you.”

      “I don’t want to be protected. I want to remember.” He picked up a tater tot. But his appetite fled.

      He hated this not knowing. He had a horrible feeling that something bad was happening, or was going to happen, and he needed to stop whatever it was as soon as possible. Considering there was an assassin trying to kill him, his sense of doom was understandable. But there was something else dancing at the periphery of his mind. Yet when he tried to lock on to the thought, a sharp pain was his reward.

      Fatigue dragged at him. He could barely keep his eyes open. “Thank you for lunch, Deputy Martin.”

      “You’re welcome.” She canted her head. “You look wrung out. The cell has a cot that I’ve heard is pretty comfortable.”

      That comment elicited a smile. “Critiques from past residents?”

      She returned his smile. “Something like that.”

      He liked her smile. It made her blue eyes light up. His gaze drifted down her straight nose to her lush, full lips. He noticed the slight cleft in her chin that gave her face character.

      She rose and held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll show where you’ll be spending the next few hours.”

      He stared at her smooth skin and long, slender fingers before grasping her hand. Her fingers closed around his, and she tugged him to his feet. She was surprisingly strong, yet her hand felt almost delicate within his clasp. The dichotomy left him unnerved. He braced his feet apart. The room momentarily swerved then righted itself. Expecting her to let go, he loosened his hold, but for a fraction of a second she held on, her gaze fixated on their joined hands. Then she yanked her hand back and rested it on her utility belt. “This way.” She turned and walked briskly away.

      He rolled the tension from his shoulders and followed her.

      The cell wasn’t big by any means, but it was roomy enough and thankfully empty. He didn’t relish the idea of sharing the space.

      Audrey opened the door. “Sorry about this.”

      “Don’t be.” He stepped inside. “This is the safest place for me. No one can get hurt with me in here, and I’ll be able to rest without worry.”

      “I guess.” But she didn’t sound convinced. That was sweet. He liked that she was upset on his behalf. He wondered if anyone else had ever been upset on his behalf and if so, who?

      Needing to reassure her, he moved closer and reached out to tuck a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Are you always so accommodating with your guests?”

      “No. But these circumstances are a bit out of the ordinary.”

      His finger skimmed over her jaw before he dropped his hand. “I appreciate all you’re doing for me. You’re a very caring person, Deputy Martin.”

      He liked the way her cheeks took on a rosy color. “Audrey.”

      A grin tugged at his mouth. “Okay. Audrey. Such a pretty name for a pretty woman.”

      Her eyes widened a fraction, then something cold flashed in her gaze and she stepped back. “And you’re charming. A flirt.”

      Wary that he’d offended her, he said, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

      “It’s been my experience that charming men aren’t to be trusted.”

      Had the man who hurt her been a boyfriend? “Don’t paint every man with the same brush as whoever hurt you.”

      She made a wry sound in her throat. “Easy for you to say. I don’t know you. I don’t know if I should trust you.”

      “But you want to,” he observed, realizing how badly he wanted her to trust him. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have shared your lunch with me. You wouldn’t feel so bad for locking me up.”

      She frowned and pressed her lips into a straight line. He much preferred when she smiled.

      “It’s okay,” he told her. “You shouldn’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me.”

      “I want to release your photo to the media. See if someone comes forward to identify you.”

      “You should. I’m guessing you already ran my prints and face through your databases.”

      “Yes, with no results.”

      He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or more alarming. The thumping in his head intensified. His energy waned. He needed to sit before he fell down. But he didn’t want her to leave, which was exactly why he said, “I’m sure you have work to do. And I really need to rest.”

      She nodded. “I do. I’ll be checking on you every two hours.”

      “I look forward to it.”

      Without a word, she closed the cell door with a deafening click that echoed in his ears long after she walked away.

      * * *

      Night came faster than Audrey would have imagined, despite the fact that December in Maine the sun set around four in the afternoon. She switched on her desk lamp because the dim overhead lights weren’t bright enough for her. The station was quiet. Only a few deputies were at their desks. The sheriff had come and gone, promising he’d be back to relieve her of guard duty for John Doe. She was surprised the sheriff didn’t squawk at the overtime she was accruing.

      She’d spent the day doing paperwork that had stacked up over the past few weeks. Though she had trouble concentrating on vandalism of the local middle school or Mrs. Keel’s runaway cat.

      Audrey kept replaying John’s words.

      Such a pretty name for a pretty woman.

      She СКАЧАТЬ