He returned the phone to Rob, who talked with the man for a few more minutes before ending the call. He turned to Thomas. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Rob chewed on his lip. “They really are good people. Good friends. More like family. We band together to help each other when something bad happens.”
“Where have they been the past several days?” Thomas regretted saying it the moment it left his mouth when Rob’s expression turned angry.
“Because I know Laura better than anyone and knew she wouldn’t have wanted people seeing her like this. And then she woke up not knowing anyone. All our friends know that Laura has amnesia. They’ve been giving me all the support they can, but we don’t want to flood the hospital with a ton of people Laura doesn’t know. We all agreed that because none of our vanilla friends or family know what’s going on, it was better for them to wait to hear from me before coming to visit her.”
That made a lot of sense. “I’m sorry. I understand.”
“No,” Rob exploded, “I don’t think you do! She’s my life, my heart. My future. She’s the other half of me. And she doesn’t even fucking know who I am, much less how much we loved each other before this happened!”
Thomas flexed his shoulders to ease the tension in his neck and buy him a few seconds to calm his own temper. Then he snatched the sheaf of papers from the table.
“I’m a widower, Rob,” he softly said. “She went in for routine gallbladder surgery, had a stroke on the table, and spent four weeks in a coma before she died.”
He headed for the door. “At least you can count your lucky stars you have a second chance. Some of us don’t get that. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her one more time how much I loved her.”
He didn’t need to turn and look to see the shock on Rob’s face. It was painted in his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He stopped at the door. “Well, now you do.” He yanked it open, mindful not to let the dog out. “If I don’t hear from your friend Tony by nine o’clock tomorrow morning, warn him to immediately expect a bundle of search warrants to pull the phone records of everyone who has a phone number on here.” He shook the papers at Rob before leaving and slamming the door behind him.
Dammit. He headed for his car and didn’t even bother buckling his seatbelt until he’d hit the end of the long drive and turned onto the street. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper with the man, but it’d been a long damn day to start with.
It didn’t help that he had a bad feeling in his gut that whoever attacked Laura might be tied in with several unsolved murders in Florida and around the country.
And if that was the case, he suspected Laura would still be in the guy’s sights.
The sooner he could track the monster down, the sooner she, and others, would be out of danger.
Chapter Eight
Friday morning, Laura again awoke early, this time just as the sun was breaking its sleep over the eastern horizon. She’d spent a restless night having vivid dreams she wondered might actually be memories, between waking up when nurses came to check her vital signs.
Several of those dreams she spent on a boat, heading out on the open water with the sun rising at her back and the greyish-purple horizon ahead of her to the west.
She managed to take a shower without help, that little victory raising her spirits somewhat until she got another look at her battered face in the mirror.
Who are you?
She desperately wanted to know.
Needed to know.
Fuzzy little bits of stray memories had started filtering back, but still nothing concrete she could hold on to. And nothing recent. She had no active memories of any substance concerning Rob, or Shayla, for that matter. Just her emotions about them.
Trying to avoid the mirror, Laura dressed and returned to her bed in time for the doctors to arrive for morning rounds. The neurologist in charge of her treatment, now that she was awake and otherwise healing, ran her through a brief series of questions and movements while talking with a gaggle of residents tagging along.
“Any idea when my memory might come back?” She knew it couldn’t hurt to ask even if she already suspected the answer.
He offered her a smile. “Unfortunately, no. I want to run at least one more MRI before we discharge you, though. I’m thinking we’ll shoot for letting you go home on Monday, as long as everything else seems okay.”
She nodded but didn’t reply. Part of her wanted to get out of there.
Part of her felt terrified to leave the safely guarded confines of the hospital. Other than Rob and Shayla, the outside world was still full of strangers she had no clue how to identify, much less whether they were friend or foe.
She didn’t even know where she lived.
A few minutes after the doctor left, her bedside phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She stared at it for a moment before tentatively reaching out to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetheart. It’s me. Um, Rob.”
Her fingers curled around the receiver. He sounded a little tentative himself. “Hi.”
“I just wanted to check in this morning and see how you’re doing.”
She felt a wistful pang she hoped boded well for rebuilding her relationship with him. “Thanks. Are you still coming by tonight?”
“Yes,” he quickly said. “Absolutely. And if anything happens, I already put the captain on notice that I might have to cut out.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“I won’t.” She got the feeling he wanted to say something else. After a moment, he did. “No more memories?”
She thought about the dreams she’d had. “No. Nothing yet.”
“Okay.”
She couldn’t bear his sad tone. “I miss you.”
He suddenly sounded choked up. “I miss you, too, sweetheart. I’ll be there tonight as soon as I get off work. Carol’s walking Doogie for me, so he’ll be okay.”
“The doctor said this morning they want to do another MRI on me. They might release me Monday.”
That seemed to buoy his spirits. “That’s great! I’ll make sure I tell the captain so I can be there Monday for you.”
After they said their good-byes she stared at the phone. She’d need to ask Rob about her cell phone, what happened to it, or if he could bring it to her. Maybe something on it might help trigger some memories.
At this point, she’d willingly try anything.
Pastor Ben stopped by a few minutes later.
“So how are you today?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Still no memories. Nothing that really matters, anyway.”
“I’m not one to harp on a subject, but I would be professionally remiss if I didn’t mention again that I think you should consult with a psychiatrist. It might help.” He watched her when she didn’t object. “I can call my friend, Dr. Simpson. She has privileges here. Have her come here to see you for a consult. Her office is only two blocks away.”
With not just the pastor, but the doctors also pressing the issue, Laura finally caved. “Fine,” she quietly said.
“It doesn’t mean you’re ‘crazy,’” he firmly insisted.
She let out a frustrated sigh as she pulled her hair away from her face. “That’s what you people keep telling me.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I don’t know what I am at this point. But I guess if it’s possible it’ll help me get my memory back I should try it no matter what my feelings are on the subject.”
“No idea why you feel the way you do about it?”