Remembering That Night. Stephanie Doyle

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      “No.”

      “You don’t remember the man who was rumored to be your lover?”

      “No.”

      “Detective, do we really need to go any further?” Elaine interjected. “My client has explained to you she has a medical condition. A condition which she would very much like to have treated. You can sit here all day asking her questions she doesn’t have the answers to, or we can seek the treatment she needs.”

      The detective’s scowl was menacing, but Liza saw that Elaine wasn’t intimidated in the least.

      “Because we both know you’re not going to charge her.”

      “I’ve got a dead guy, witnesses who place your client at the scene—”

      “You mean her place of business. You have witnesses who saw my client at work.”

      “Late Saturday night?”

      Elaine shrugged. “Casino hours. It’s open 24/7. The fact that there are witnesses around the place proves that. Who knows what her normal business hours are.”

      “Then, hours later, she’s picked up on a highway not far from here covered in blood.”

      “Strange. As is her current medical condition. But you don’t have a witness to the crime, you don’t have a weapon, you can do a gun residue check...”

      “I’m guessing since she was covered in blood she’s probably taken a shower since yesterday.”

      Elaine smiled without humor. “What you have is a circumstantial, albeit strange, case. Let me take her to a doctor. Let’s see what he can tell us about her condition first.”

      The detective pointed to Liza. “You don’t leave the area.”

      “No, sir. But...is there any way... Does anyone have my address? Where I live? I would like to go home, if that’s possible.”

      The detective left the interrogation room and came back with a sheet of paper and a large oversize handbag that Liza suddenly knew was hers. He pushed it forward on the table that stretched between them.

      “You left it in your office at the casino.”

      She took it and hugged it to her. It felt like a lifeline, something she actually recognized. One more piece of her puzzle. She was tempted to empty the contents right there and then and study everything inside, but she didn’t want to do that in front of the detective. Not that she could be sure he hadn’t already thoroughly searched it.

      He passed her the piece of paper with her address, although she could have just checked her driver’s license. Reading the sheet, she discovered she lived in a small upper-middle-class historical town not forty minutes west of Atlantic City. How did she know that? How did she know the town, but not remember that she lived there?

      “Jog any memories?”

      She shook her head. “Not really. I know the town was founded in 1692. I know there’s an exclusive country club a lot of people belong to. I don’t know why I know either of those two things. I can’t picture what my house looks like from the outside, or any of the rooms inside.”

      There was nothing but facts and emptiness. No memories at all. She turned to Elaine. “Please, will you take me home?”

      Elaine gave her a hard look, and the skepticism she’d seen in Greg’s face that first day was there, too. Then, suddenly it was gone and she was reaching out to pat Liza’s hand rather awkwardly.

      “It’s going to be okay.”

      Liza didn’t see how. She was found covered in blood hours after a man she was supposed to know had been shot. She agreed more with the detective than she did her own lawyer. What were the odds that she wasn’t somehow involved in his shooting?

      Slim. Maybe zero. But she knew she wasn’t the one who killed him. She wouldn’t have killed anyone. All she had was her gut reaction to what the detective said when he told her about Hector being shot in the face and that reaction said it wasn’t her.

      Chuck was waiting for them in the lobby. Together, the three of them left the building and didn’t linger on streets that weren’t really safe even in the middle of the afternoon. The difference between life in the casinos and life on the streets of AC was vast. Several of the casinos had even gone so far as to build passages both above and below ground so if a person wanted to hop from hotel to hotel in an attempt to change their luck, they never had to venture outside.

      As soon as they were in the car, Chuck handed Elaine his phone. “He’s waiting for your call. Thinks it was taking too long.”

      “I have him in my phone,” Elaine said as she hit a few buttons. “You should take the Black Horse Pike, it’s more direct.”

      “And slower than mud. I’m taking the AC Expressway.”

      Elaine huffed. “Why do I have the feeling if I had said to take the AC Expressway you would have taken the Black Horse Pike?”

      Chuck considered that. “Probably because I would have. Why do you feel the need to determine which route the driver is going to take when you are, in fact, the passenger?”

      “Because having been your passenger more times than I would like to remember I know from experience you have a lousy sense of direction.”

      Chuck was about to fire back when Elaine stopped him with a raised finger.

      “Greg, it’s me. Hey, we’re done. I’m taking her home first. Yes. No. I don’t know...that’s the best that I can give you. But I can tell you it’s a lot more than when you told me the situation this morning. She’s very convincing...”

      Liza clenched her teeth, feeling a burst of rage surfacing. She wanted to hit her fists against the seat in front of her to remind Elaine that she was there. But she didn’t. Instead, she simply said, “I’m sitting behind you in the backseat. It’s not polite to talk about people in front of them like that.”

      Her attorney thought she was convincing. Liza didn’t imagine that was a good sign because it began with the premise that Liza was trying to convince someone of something when all she was doing was experiencing what was happening to her.

      Just because Greg had decided Elaine could represent her didn’t mean Liza had to retain her as her lawyer. There were other lawyers. Maybe other ones she knew personally. Maybe when she saw the town where she lived and her house, it would be the thing she needed to bring her life back. Once that happened she could function again.

      “He wants to talk to you.”

      Liza stared at the phone. She thought about simply refusing. He’d helped her, yes. But then he’d withheld information from her. It felt like a betrayal. She didn’t owe him anything as a result.

      Then she changed her mind, her anger still dictating her actions.

      She wanted to tell him she didn’t care if he believed her or not. She wanted to tell him not telling someone what her name was when she’d forgotten it was the cruelest thing she could imagine. СКАЧАТЬ