Identity Crisis, page 13
Gage grit his teeth and held on to Alyssa as he crossed the street and approached the diner. He could only pray no one inside would recognize them from the earlier newscast.
The place was surprisingly crowded and ancient tunes blared from an equally ancient jukebox. Gage was grateful for the crowd of people as he made his way to the back, where the restrooms were located. A few of the customers glanced at them curiously, but most ignored them.
“Oh, no,” Alyssa whispered in a horrified tone.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re covered in Jonah’s blood.” Her voice was brittle, as if she might collapse at any moment. In the dim light of the diner, he could see she was right. Both of their hands were streaked with blood and there were dark smears on their clothes, as well. Luckily, those stains were not as obvious, since they were both wearing dark colors to blend in with the night.
“Here’s the bathroom. Do your best to wash up, okay?”
Alyssa stumbled into the ladies’ room, closing the door behind her. He grasped the door frame for a moment, grappling with the need to keep her in sight at all times. Finally he turned to follow his own advice, washing off the evidence of Jonah’s blood.
His buddy was a good cop. One of the best. The only person he could imagine getting past Jonah was another cop. Crane? Or someone else? He wished he could be sure. Without Jonah’s help and support, he felt as if they were stranded at sea in a canoe without paddles. What they needed was a plan.
Too bad his exhausted brain couldn’t seem to come up with anything feasible.
* * *
Alyssa scrubbed her hands and arms until the pink-tinged water ran clear. She tried her best to soak the bloodstains from her clothes, without much success.
Bracing her weight on the porcelain sink, she closed her eyes. Fatigue oozed from every pore. Running on foot from the police was getting old. Yet the only person who’d believed their story was Jonah. Poor Jonah, who’d been stabbed because he’d tried to help them.
She sighed and tried to pull herself together. Jonah would be fine. He’d had a decent pulse and the paramedics had arrived quickly. He stood a very good chance of recovering. She’d have to call Trinity later to see if Diana was working in the ICU. Diana would let her know if he made it through surgery.
Abruptly she straightened and stared at her reflection in the chipped mirror. Diana? The image of a petite woman with delicate facial features and chin-length dark hair filled her mind. A memory?
She tried to remember more, but the blurred image wouldn’t give any hint as to where she and Diana may have been. Likely the hospital, but her brain didn’t even give her that much. Still, the surge of excitement was enough to banish her fatigue. Tiny flashes of memory were coming more and more frequently, usually when she least expected them.
Squaring her shoulders with renewed determination, Alyssa cupped her hands and splashed cold water on her face. Maybe she and Gage had suffered a setback tonight, but they weren’t beaten yet.
Together, with God’s help, they’d find a way to get through this.
* * *
She huddled next to Gage at a small table in the back of the diner, gratefully sipping a large, cold glass of water. “I remembered something,” she said in a low tone.
Gage’s eyes brightened eagerly. “You did? What?”
She felt bad for getting his hopes up. “Nothing that will help us, really, but as I was washing up in the restroom I thought about Jonah, and a colleague’s face and name flashed in my mind. Diana White is a friend of mine who works in the ICU at Trinity.”
“That’s great, Alyssa,” Gage said. “The fact that you’re starting to remember is a good thing. Maybe if you can get one night of decent sleep, you’ll remember more.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged. They hadn’t been given any time to rest since they’d discovered her true identity. “Anyway, I was thinking I could use your phone to call Trinity Medical Center, see if they have any news about Jonah.”
Gage nodded thoughtfully. “You could, but it’s still early. Only about thirty minutes since we ran from the park.”
“They’d rush him to the hospital and he could already be in surgery by now.” She leaned forward. “Gage, I really need to know if he’s at least made it that far.”
With obvious reluctance, he handed over his phone. She dialed the number and put her free hand over her ear to drown out the noise from the wailing jukebox. There was a loud beeping in her ear but then she heard ringing. When the operator answered, she requested to be put through to the trauma ICU.
“Trauma ICU, may I help you?”
“Is Diana White working tonight?”
“Yes, just a minute please.” The elevator music returned for several long seconds, until a female voice came over the line. “This is Diana. May I help you?”
“Diana, this is Alyssa Roth.”
“Alyssa?” Diana’s voice rose dramatically. “Where are you? Did you know the cops where here looking for you? What’s going on?”
The police had shown up at Trinity? Her stomach clenched at the news. The police had put the name Mallory Roth out as being a person of interest, but obviously they’d thought she’d give them information regarding her sister. “I don’t have time to explain, but I need to know if you received a new patient, a cop by the name of Jonah Stewart?”
Diana gasped on the other end of the line. “How did you know? You didn’t stab him, did you?”
“Of course not!” How could Diana even ask that question? Unless the police were spreading that rumor? The lump in her stomach congealed and sank. Soon, there wouldn’t be anyplace left to hide. “He was hurt helping me. Is he all right?”
“He’s in surgery. And you know hospital privacy rules prevent me from telling you any details. I can tell you he’s in surgery because that’s already been on the news and there are cops swarming the place. Alyssa, who stabbed him? What’s going on? If you’re in trouble—”
“Look, Diana, I don’t know anything about who stabbed Jonah, and if you care about me at all, you won’t tell the police I called. Goodbye.” She snapped the phone shut before Diana could ask anything more. She handed the phone to Gage. “I heard something beeping in your phone. Is it low on batteries?”
“Could be.” Gage took the phone. “I have some battery life yet, but there’s a message. I don’t remember the phone ringing.”
She watched him punch in the code needed to listen to his voice mail. “Who is it?”
“Jonah. He must have left the message before he got hurt. He discovered there was a police response to your town house late Friday night, early Saturday morning.”
She frowned. “Really? The same night I ended up in the emergency department? What time did you come and pick me up?”
“About three in the morning. They called me at two-thirty.”
“Maybe I called the police, before I lost my memory?” She was trying to reason through the possible scenarios, but it wasn’t easy without a memory.
“No, that’s what Jonah found so odd. There wasn’t a record of any calls to the dispatcher or to the 911 operator referring anyone to your address. In fact, there wasn’t a record of the police response to your town house that night.”
What? That didn’t make any sense. “Then how does he know there was a police response?”
“He said he had a conversation with a rookie who mentioned a response that was abruptly called off. The rookie thought it was weird, especially when he was told not to record it.”
“A cover-up,” she whispered. A bloody room flashed in her mind. Was it possibly at her town house? Or somewhere else?
“Exactly.” Gage scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sure they covered up some crime, but what, I don’t know.”
“Murder.” The word popped out of her mouth with conviction. The bloody room had to be a memory fragment.
“Without a body?” Gage sighed and shook his head. “Although maybe there is a body. Maybe one in the morgue as a John or Jane Doe.”
The thought of Mallory possibly being dead made goose bumps ripple across her skin. She didn’t remember her twin sister, but she didn’t want to lose her, either. “I doubt there would be a record of the body.” At his puzzled expression, she continued, “Don’t you see? If there’s no paper trail recording the police response to my address, there can’t be a body turning up at the morgue. You can’t have one without the other.”
* * *
“Are you ready to walk back to the motel?” he asked when Alyssa finished her water.
He thought she winced, but she gamely nodded and slid out of her seat. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They slipped outside, leaving the anonymity of the crowded diner. Immediately, he felt more conspicuous out on the road. The shrill ringing of his phone startled him. Apprehensively, he pulled it out, relieved to notice the call was from his dad.
Arizona was in a different time zone. His father was calling at eight at night, his time. “Hi, Dad,” he greeted his father. “How are you?”
“Hugh Jefferson called me.”
The blood drained to the soles of his feet. “What? When?”
“Just now. He said I needed to arrange a meeting for the three of us, and I had the impression that it wouldn’t be healthy to refuse his request.”
His dad’s voice sounded far away, as if he were on the other end of a long tunnel. It took a moment to realize his hearing was obstructed by the high-pitched buzz of pure fury. How dare Jefferson use his father to get to him? His father was innocent—he had no part in Jefferson’s sick game. This time, Jefferson had gone too far.
And then it hit him. Northwestern University. The place where his dad had gone to college all those years ago. The same place Gage had gone. The same place Hugh Jefferson had gone?
No wonder Jefferson had targeted Drummond Builders. He’d purposefully used someone he knew he could threaten and blackmail to do what he wanted.
“You need to get out of there, Dad. Right now.” He clenched the phone so hard, his fingers hurt. “Take Margaret on a trip. Use a rental car. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, not even me.”
“What’s going on, Gage?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. Jefferson is trying to use you to get to me.” Jefferson had found his Achilles’ heel and made no qualms about using it to his advantage.
There was a long silence. “Why?”
To make me finish his condos. As soon as the thought formed in his mind, he knew it was true. Jefferson knew that Gage would want to pull out of the contract, and he was threatening his father’s life to get him to keep working for him. The bleak realization weighed heavily on his shoulders. He’d failed to protect his mother all those years ago, when her second husband started beating her, but this was worse. Much worse. He couldn’t protect both his father and Alyssa at the same time.
“I’m working on a project for him, but we’re not in agreement as to how things should be done.” The biggest understatement of the year. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of things here. But I need you to be safe, Dad. I’m begging you to get out of there. Right now. Take a trip with Margaret.”
“You think we’re in danger.”
“Yes. Leave the house and don’t come back until you hear from me.”
“Okay, then, we’ll go. One of the advantages of early retirement is that we can pretty much do whatever we want. I’ll take Margaret out of here, but I want you to keep in touch, Gage. I’m worried about you, too.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in touch. Take care, Dad.” He paused, before adding, “I love you.”
“Right back at you, son.”
Gage closed his eyes and snapped his phone shut. He stared at the cell phone for a minute, fighting a wave of fury.
“Gage?” Alyssa gently touched his arm. “Are you all right?”
“No. Jefferson has dragged my father into this with an implied threat. Either I do what he wants or he’ll hurt my father. I’ve asked him to leave town, but it’s very possible Jefferson has criminals working for him in Arizona. I hope it’s not too late.” For a moment he was tempted to give in, to do whatever Jefferson wanted in order to protect the ones he loved. Never had he felt so helpless, not since he was ten years old and watching his mother suffer his stepfather’s big meaty fist.
Ruthlessly, he shoved those memories aside. Failure wasn’t an option. Somehow, he needed to figure out how to get out of this mess. Giving in to Jefferson’s demands would be signing his own death warrant—once the project was complete, anyway.
No. Somehow, some way, he needed to keep Alyssa and his father safe.
TWELVE
Alyssa listened with horror to Gage’s blunt assessment of Jefferson’s latest stunt. Was there anything Hugh Jefferson couldn’t do? Did he have people working for him everywhere? Gage was afraid his father wasn’t safe, even all the way across the country in Arizona. And she understood why. What she didn’t know was how to stop Jefferson’s evil plan.
Please, Lord, help me remember!
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked when they’d walked a few blocks in silence.
“No.” She didn’t think she’d ever heard Gage sound so defeated.
Suddenly, his dejected tone made her mad. “Listen, Gage, we can do this. We’re smart and resourceful. We’ve dodged Jefferson and Crane so far. And don’t forget, we have God supporting and guiding us.”
He glanced at her but didn’t respond. She didn’t want to push, or preach, but surely he’d feel better if he shared his burden with God?
She could feel Gage tense when the headlights of a car approached, but they kept walking and soon the car passed them by. “How much farther until we reach the motel?” she asked, half dreading the answer.
“Not that far, especially if we take a few shortcuts.”
Unfortunately, Gage’s shortcuts meant sneaking through more backyards. A dog started barking loudly from the yard next to them, making Alyssa jump out of her skin. By the time they arrived back at the motel, she wanted nothing more than to shower and climb into bed.
As they approached the motel, she noticed a convenience store nearby. She glanced at Gage. “Do you have a couple of dollars? I want to buy another newspaper.”
He glanced at her as if she were crazy. “Why?”
She shrugged. “So far, we learned a lot from the paper that was left on the bus, but it was Friday’s paper. I thought a more recent newspaper might give us more information.”
Gage nodded thoughtfully. “Can’t hurt. Wait here, I’ll get it.”
She wanted to protest but honestly didn’t have the energy. Times like this, she didn’t mind Gage’s protective attitude so much. If only he’d learn to strike a balance. She rested against the building, relieved they were nearly at the motel. Her ankle was throbbing like mad.
Gage returned quickly with the newspaper tucked under his arm. She sensed his nervousness as they hurried across the street.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing, probably just my overactive imagination,” he muttered.
Her gut clenched. More possible danger? Would she ever be able to relax again? “Tell me.”
“It seemed like the clerk was staring at me,” Gage admitted slowly. “I have a bad feeling he recognized me from the news.”
* * *
Despite her physical exhaustion, Alyssa spent a restless night. Between the pain in her ankle and being afraid the police were going to come arrest them, she woke up every hour on the hour.
At seven, she gave up hope of getting more sleep. There was a tiny coffeepot on the dresser and she brewed a pot as she dyed her hair. Putting the red coloring over her blond curls wasn’t easy, but she had to admit, the end result wasn’t too bad. She certainly looked different.
Her blue eyes were still pretty distinctive, though, and the only way she could think to disguise them was to buy cheap clear glasses, since she didn’t wear contacts and wasn’t about to start now.
There was a brief knock at the connecting door between them and she glanced over to find Gage standing in the doorway. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Terrible.” Gage was staring at her red hair in shock. “I didn’t think you’d actually use it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You bought it for me to use, right? I don’t have the option of growing a beard.”
He scratched at his dark jaw with a grimace. “It itches.”
She flashed a grin. “Don’t look at me for sympathy.”
“Okay, Red.”
“That’s the oldest nickname on the planet,” she said with a groan. She liked this feeling of camaraderie that seemed to have sprung between them. Did their relationship before her memory loss have that same closeness? Somehow, she didn’t think so, not if she broke up with him. She gestured to the tiny pot. “Want to share my coffee?”
“Yeah, and I bought breakfast.” He set the bagels and cream cheese on the small table. “Figured with all the walking we’ve been doing, we could use a few extra carbs.”
No argument there. She ripped a bagel in half and spread a thin layer of cheese over it before taking a huge bite. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “We need a game plan.”
“Did you read the newspaper?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“I skimmed it this morning, and there was a huge article about the special mayoral election being held tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” She nearly choked on her bagel and then remembered Jonah had mentioned something about that the previous night, when they were at the first motel room. “I forgot it was Election Tuesday.” Her memory hadn’t suddenly returned when she woke up this morning, but even so, she sensed she wasn’t big into politics. “Obviously Eric Holden is the main candidate, since he’s the interim mayor, but who’s the other candidate?”
