Tess watched as skepticism fought for dominance on the cop’s ruddy features. No big surprise there, she thought. All cops and military types held that take-no-prisoners attitude. It was second nature to them.
She paused, her fingers tightening on the arm of the chair. There it was again, another thought that seemed to trigger a value statement out of nowhere. Did it mean that she normally distrusted cops and other people of authority?
“Maybe if she comes with me and takes a look at the crash site, she’ll remember something.” Cole grabbed his cap off the sideboard and slapped it on his head. “Let’s go, miss. We’ll take a drive out to Plank Road and see if you experience a sudden memory flash.” The last sentence dripped with sarcasm.
Donovan shook his head, signaling she shouldn’t get up. “She’s not going anywhere. She needs medical attention, Cole. Not the third degree.”
“I wasn’t about to whip out the rubber hose, Doc.” Irritation flickered across the Chief’s face. “You have to go by the crash site to get to Doc Reed’s. You can come along for the ride. That way you can make sure I don’t abuse the little lady.”
“I’m taking her out to the center. The facilities are better there,” Donovan stated.
Cole threw up his big hands. “Take her wherever the hell you want. But first let her see the car. It might jog her memory. Okay?”
Donovan finally relented and Cole stomped out the door.
Tess stood up, carefully setting her napkin next to her unfinished breakfast. She smiled at the Carsons. “Thanks for the clothes and the delicious meal. It was very gracious of you.”
Betty clucked her tongue and glanced out the window. Her glare of disapproval directed at the Chief’s back spoke volumes. “Ted Cole can be a bully sometimes. Don’t you let him push you around.” She shifted her attention to Donovan. “You make sure to watch out for her, Ryan.”
Donovan nodded and then stepped aside to let Tess go first. A pang of regret shot through Tess. She missed the feel of his hand on her shoulder, the warmth and comfort of those long fingers against her skin. Somehow his touch seemed to reach down and fill a cold, empty place deep in her chest.
And that spot seemed to get bigger and wider with each passing moment, especially when she imagined seeing a car in the middle of a cornfield. A car with a dead man inside it. She hid a shudder as she climbed into the police chief’s cruiser. Something told her she didn’t want to go anywhere near that car.
RAW TRACKS CUT THROUGH the freshly mowed grass leading up to the edge of the cornfield and then continued on into the heart of the field. The ground leading to the crash site was uneven, and Tess stumbled a bit as she skirted the broken stalks.
“Easy, Tess,” Donovan said, reaching out to steady her. “There’s no rush to get there.”
The corn on either side of them seemed to rise up and close in around them, creating a green chute. The raw earth smelled pungent, and a light breeze slipped through the rows, making a soft rustling sound.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked, his big body so close a whiff of his aftershave, something tangy and enticing, swept up her nose. She tried to ignore its effect.
“I’ll do whatever he wants. Just as long as he gets off my back.”
The car was about twenty or thirty yards in. A sleek gold Intrepid. It looked as if the driver had simply lost his way, plowed through a high fence on the end of the field and driven directly into the corn. Broken stalks were caught in the door handles and under the wipers. All the doors were open, and a uniformed policeman was rummaging around in the back seat. He ignored her.
For the first time, Tess realized the car hadn’t left the road and plowed into the field. The tracks they’d followed in had been made by a farm tractor, the farmer’s attempt to make it easier for the police to get to the site.
The car had crashed through the fence straight ahead. It had a huge gaping hole in it. Tess couldn’t help but wonder what all that lethal-looking metal fencing surrounded. Was it meant to keep something in or out?
Guards—private security guards from the looks of them—stood on the opposite side of the hole, watching the local cops conduct their investigation. One of them was speaking into a cell phone.
“Does the car look familiar?” Cole asked.
Tess shook her head. “No. But it’s a nice-looking car.” She glanced at the cop. “If you’re asking me if it’s mine— I have no idea.”
“Does anything about it look familiar?” Cole pressed.
“No.”
“Pretty convenient response,” Cole said, his expression sour.
“A fairly typical response for someone who has amnesia,” Donovan said. He glanced in Tess’s direction, and she could tell without him saying anything that he was assessing how she was holding up.
His concerned expression bothered her for some reason. She didn’t want him hovering over her, worried if she could handle things. She wasn’t some shrinking violet that needed a caretaker, especially not this sexy-as-sin doctor.
She turned away. She didn’t need him or anyone else. Trust was not something that came easy. Wait a minute. She paused and rewound what she’d just thought. Interesting. She wasn’t supposed to even know her name, yet suddenly she knew she was fiercely independent.
She smiled inwardly, savoring the knowledge.
“I want you to take a look at the body,” Cole said. “Tell me if it’s anyone you recognize.”
Tension gnawed at the pit of her stomach. “If I’m having trouble remembering my own name, what makes you think I’d remember some guy who is sitting in a car I’ve never seen before?”
“Humor me.” Cole pushed her up toward the driver’s side of the car.
The driver lay slumped over on his side, his head resting in a pool of blood, his eyes wide and staring. Tess’s fingers tightened into fists, her nails digging raggedly into the palms of her hands. Oh God, please don’t let me know this person, she prayed.
The coppery stench of blood seemed to fill the air trapped in the car and for a moment, she thought she might lose her breakfast. But she breathed shallowly, determined not to give Cole the reaction she knew he was looking for.
Cole reached around her and tipped the man’s face up so she could see better. Tess sucked in a relieved mouthful of air. The face didn’t strike any chord of recognition in her.
“Anything?” Donovan asked.
She shook her head. “Sorry. Nothing.”
“Any feelings of remorse? Guilt perhaps,” Cole drawled.
Tess met his gaze head-on. “I don’t feel anything, Chief. Zip. Zero. Nada.” She yawned. “Are we done yet?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she tried to gauge Donovan’s reaction to her staged attitude of callousness. She’d decided early on that it was better not to let any of them know what she was feeling. But with the exception of one dark eyebrow quirking upward, he didn’t appear anywhere near as appalled as she might have thought.
In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, one corner of those magnificent lips twitched upward a touch, as if he knew she was doing her best to yank the persistent police chief’s pompous chain.
And for a brief moment, Tess found herself wondering what those lips would taste like, especially the full bottom one. The one with the small crease in the center that bowed out just a little, bordering on