“You’re welcome,” she said. She rested her hands on her utility belt. “What kind of seafood do you like? It’s the season for crab and monkfish now. But mussels are available, as are scallops.”
His mouth watered at the thought of some good seafood, but no memory surfaced to support the visceral reaction. “Any of that sounds delicious. You’re related to the doctor.”
A wry smile curved her lips. “Caught that, did you? She’s my mom, and the sheriff’s my great-uncle.”
“Good to know.”
She shrugged. “You were bound to find out eventually.”
“I’m not judging. You get flack for being related?”
“Some. But mostly there are those in town who don’t think a woman should be on duty. The world is slow to change here in Calico Bay.”
He could imagine that was hard for her. She struck him as independent and capable with a soft side that she kept close to the vest. “You said you returned here?”
“Born and raised until I went to college and the police academy.”
He admired her commitment to her roots. Did he have roots? He searched his brain until the pain made him back off.
A brunette dressed in scrubs entered the room carrying two bags. “Your clothes.” She set the bags on the end of the bed. “Hello, Audrey.”
“Morning, Sarah. How’s Rich?”
Sarah’s face softened. “He’s good. He’ll be four next week.”
“Wow. I hadn’t realized.” A curious sadness entered Audrey’s eyes. “I’ll stop by to wish him happy birthday.”
“He’d like that. Thank you.” Sarah turned to John, her green eyes sharpening with attentiveness. “Do you need help dressing?”
“No. I can manage on my own.”
Disappointment shot through Sarah’s gaze. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” He was glad when she exited. He met the deputy’s gaze. She didn’t look pleased. “What’s Sarah’s story?”
“She’s a widow, if that’s what you’re asking,” Audrey replied in a tense voice.
“Okay, it wasn’t. I’m more interested in why you looked so sad when you were talking about Rich, who I assume is her son.”
Surprise flashed in Audrey’s eyes. “Oh. Yes, Rich is her little boy. He’s such a sweetie.” That sadness was back. “Ben, Sarah’s husband, worked on a fishing boat. About two years ago there was an accident, and he was killed.”
Sympathy twisted in his gut. “That’s too bad. I’ve watched those fishing reality shows, and that life seems brutal.”
Audrey’s eyebrows hiked up and anticipation blossomed in her gaze, no doubt hoping his memories were returning. “You remember the show?”
He cocked his head, groping his mind for information. “Yes, sort of. I know I’ve seen it, but I can’t recall where or when.” And it was so maddening. He wanted to howl with frustration.
“Give it time,” she said as the light in her eyes turned slightly to disappointment. “You heard my mom. Bits and pieces.”
“Right.” He had a feeling patience wasn’t a strong suit of his, but he really didn’t know. He opened one of the bags and glanced inside. A pile of dark material pooled in the bottom. Then he looked at the pretty deputy and arched an eyebrow.
“I’ll wait outside.” Audrey’s cheeks pinkened as she walked out.
* * *
Audrey hesitated outside John Doe’s hospital room door and tried to calm the flutter in her stomach. So many thoughts and feelings were swirling through her at the moment. Empathy for John Doe. She couldn’t imagine losing her memories of her father, her childhood, her life. She could only imagine how bleak and desperate the man must be feeling. Not to mention the pain that seemed to hit him every time he tried to remember.
Then there was the embarrassment of having her mother and John witness the acrimony between her and her great-uncle. She usually did a better job of refraining from showing her emotions in public.
She could only attribute her lack of control to the strange and forceful reactions that flared within her the moment John awoke. Beyond empathy, she felt an intense protectiveness, which had manifested in her strong defense of him. A part of her knew it was logical for the sheriff to take the man into custody, but putting him behind bars without any proof of wrongdoing didn’t sit well with her sense of justice.
Hopefully John would soon regain his memories and they could figure out the truth behind what, who and why someone was trying to kill him.
* * *
Left alone, John withdrew his clothes and boots from the bags and stared at them for a long moment. He didn’t remember putting these on. Why was he dressed all in black? For nefarious purposes?
He was thankful the garments were dry as he quickly donned the cargo pants, turtleneck and socks but struggled with the boots. Finally, giving up, he padded to the door and stuck his head out. Audrey and her great-uncle stood near the nurses’ station. The brunette noticed him first and hurried toward him. He tried not to grimace as he held up his hand. “Can you ask Deputy Martin to come here?”
Nurse Sarah pursed her lips, clearly miffed by his request for someone other than her. “Sure.” She walked back to the desk and spoke to Audrey, who nodded and headed his way.
“You need me?”
He did. For reasons he couldn’t explain she grounded him, anchored him to the moment. When he looked at her, thought about her, he only felt peace, comfort. Strange, considering she’d said they’d only just met. Again that niggling feeing she was keeping a secret from him itched, demanding to be scratched. He let it go, confident he’d get her to open up and tell him. Where that confidence came from, he didn’t know. “I need help with the boots. Bending over to undo the laces is more than I can take right now.”
One honey-blond eyebrow arched. “All right.”
She crouched and undid the laces on the right boot and held it out for him to slip his foot into. He watched as her slender and capable hands quickly cinched up the laces and tied the boot snugly.
After the left boot was on, he stood. The world tilted.
He swayed. Audrey wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him close to her side. If he weren’t feeling a bit woozy, he’d have leaned in for a kiss.
He frowned at the thought. Okay, he found Audrey attractive and had some strange connection to her that he didn’t understand, but he’d better keep his emotions in check. He could be married. And he doubted the deputy would appreciate him taking advantage of the situation.
Was he a man that took advantage? He prayed not. Which led to another question—was he a man that prayed?
He hated not knowing who he was.
Some part of his brain said to let go of the past and become who he wanted to be for the future. But that wasn’t really a possibility. Not when there was someone out there willing to hurt other people to end his life.
He knew deep inside, with a certainty he couldn’t deny, he had a responsibility to uncover the truth and to protect those around him.
But he dreaded what the cost would be. He hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be the life of the deputy at his side.
Sitting in the passenger seat of Deputy Martin’s