“You have family in town? A wife?”
He jerked his gaze up from his keyboard, and she blinked at him with wide, startled eyes. “No. I’m not married. I meant my brother and parents. I’d gone out for a jog when you wrecked your car.”
She released a deep breath, visibly relieved that he wasn’t married. And wasn’t that interesting?
Hunter glanced at the results of his browser search for Brianna’s car tag number. After scrolling a few pages, he found nothing helpful. A visit to the state’s DMV web page gave him little, as well. A few sites promised to conduct a search of private records for a fee, but he ignored those. Buzzing his lips in frustration, Hunter sat back in the chair. “Well, I’m not getting far here. Have you remembered anything else, no matter how small, that might help us with this puzzle?”
“No. Just this weird sense of danger. Of panic.” She bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brow. “I wouldn’t even know my first name if not for that key ring.”
“What about the other key chain that was on your car keys? The one that said ‘I Heart Cape Cod.’ Cape Cod ring any bells now?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, then sighed. “Nothing.”
“Well, it’s early. The doctor said to give your swelling a chance to recede.”
A knock sounded at the door, and a uniformed officer poked his head in the room. “Excuse me.”
Hunter stood and greeted the policeman. “Are you Sergeant Wallace?”
“I am. Would you be Hunter Mansfield?”
“Yours truly. I understand you need a statement about her accident.” Hunter waved the officer toward the only chair in the room, but Sergeant Wallace declined with a shake of his head.
“This shouldn’t take long. I just need your account of what happened to confirm what Ms. Coleman told us.”
“Ms. Coleman?” Hunter tipped his head. “Is that her name? Brianna Coleman?”
The policeman looked confused for a moment, then arched an eyebrow. “That’s right. You have no memory from before the accident?”
Brianna shook her head. “Nothing. Can you tell us anything? Did you run my license plate? Who is the car registered to? Where do I live?”
Sergeant Wallace flipped open a small notepad and read, “Your tag was registered to Brianna Coleman, home address 443 Cypress Creek Lane, Lagniappe.”
Wallace rattled off a phone number and Social Security number as well, and Hunter pulled a scrap of paper from his computer bag and jotted the information down.
“What did the tag registration say about my marital status? Was there anyone else listed as co-owner or my spouse?” Brianna asked, her expression full of hope.
The sergeant consulted his notes. “Not that I see.” Wallace raised his gaze to Hunter. “Want to tell me what you saw this afternoon? Did you see the car crash happen?”
Hunter flexed the fingers of one hand with the other and gave the officer a recap of what happened from the time Brianna drove toward him to the moment they left in the ambulance.
Her eyes widened as she listened. “Oh, my God. I almost hit you?”
He jerked a small nod, and seeing the guilt that crossed her face, he quickly added, “But you didn’t. That’s what counts.”
“So you didn’t see who might have fired at the car?” Sergeant Wallace asked.
“No.” Hunter rubbed his hands on his jeans. “If you find any more information that will help Brianna locate her family, will you call us? I’m planning to stay with her, help her out for a while. You can call my cell.” He gave the officer that phone number, and Sergeant Wallace jotted it in his notes.
“Will do.” As the police officer took his leave, he added, “Congratulations on the new baby, Ms. Coleman. Hope you’ll feel better soon.”
“Thanks.” Brianna flashed him a muted smile. Clearly she was anxious over the lingering questions about her family, Benjamin’s father and the lurking danger. As he was.
He eyed Brianna after the policeman left. “So...Brianna Coleman. That name ringing bells for you?”
She chewed her bottom lip and stared across the room, her nose wrinkled in thought. “Well, yes and no. It doesn’t feel wrong. It’s...comfortable. But I can’t say it’s bringing anything back or screaming, ‘That’s me!’” Her shoulders dropped, and she frowned. “If that’s my name, why don’t I just know it? It should be organic. Part of my cells. Instinctive.”
Connor shook his head and scooted toward her. “Not necessarily.” He unclipped his cell phone from the case at his hip. “Look, we have a home phone number now. I’ll call it and see if anyone is there. Okay?”
Her eyes rounded. “Yeah.” She sat taller in the bed, watching him anxiously as he dialed. The phone rang four times before an answering machine picked up. A mechanical voice repeated the number he’d dialed and told him to leave a message.
“I got a machine,” he told her, and her expression deflated. When the beep sounded, Hunter said, “Hi, my name is Hunter Mansfield, and I’m looking for the family of Brianna Coleman. Brianna is safe but needs to be in contact with her relatives. If anyone gets this message, please call me.” He left his number in case she didn’t have caller ID.
“No one answered,” she said and sighed. “Maybe I have no family.”
“We don’t know that. They could be in the shower. Or, more likely, out looking for you.” He returned his phone to the holder at his hip and rubbed the beard stubble on his chin. “Later on, I’ll drive by your house and knock on the front door. We will find your family, Brianna. Have faith.”
She flashed her a half smile and nodded. “Aye, Captain.”
An idea came to Hunter, and he flipped a page on the notepad he’d used to take down her information from Sergeant Wallace. He extended it and the pen toward her. “Let’s try something. Take these.”
She glanced down at Ben. “Okay, but you’ll have to hold him.”
He set the notepad down and held his arms out to receive the baby. Ben gave a disgruntled whine but soon settled in Hunter’s arms.
She lifted the pen and paper. “What do you want me to do with these?”
“Sign your name.”
She puckered her brow. “But...”
“You know your name now. So write it. Like you’re signing a document. Don’t think too hard about it. Just write.”
She bent her head over the pad and slowly wrote out her name. “There.” She held the pad out to him.
“Do it again. Faster.” Hunter gave Ben’s swaddled bottom a soft pat when he gurgled.
“Why?”
“An experiment. Just work with me.”
She sighed and wrote her name again. Then blinked. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“I...did that without really thinking about it. I was still thinking about how silly your experiment sounded.”
He flashed her a cocky grin. “Not so silly now, huh?”
Lifting one eyebrow, she wrote her name again, even faster. And again. “I’ll be darned.”
“Did it feel natural? Like muscle memory?”
She raised her head, and her face lit with wonder. “It did.”