“There is no guarantee it would work. It’s not uncommon for there to be false memory retrieval. Dr. Collins is a psychologist, and a licensed hypnotherapist. Try working with her for a while, see if you make any progress. Give her a chance. I talked with her before you arrived today. She can fit you in at eight o’clock Monday morning.”
Laura sighed. “Fine.”
Laura didn’t speak on the ride home despite Bill trying to engage her. She wanted to go to the shop, but after Bill made her lunch she fell asleep on the sofa.
Unfortunately, she dreamed about the flashing skull and the pounding on the front door. Only this time she actually made it to the front door, where an ominous shadow raced toward her when she opened it.
When she awoke that afternoon, her pain had returned enough that she didn’t want to go to the shop.
She damn sure didn’t want another pain pill.
And the bad dreams had freaked her out and stolen her reserve.
What am I going to do when Bill leaves?
The thought terrified her, even as she chided herself. I have to stand on my own two feet. I can’t spend my life terrified.
She was dozing again when the thought struck her between the eyes, so hard and sharp she woke up laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Help me up.”
He did, following her to the den where she powered up her desktop computer there and started going through it. Frustrated at first, eventually she found what she was looking for. Buried in a subdirectory in the Documents folder, she found a file called journal.doc.
The first entry was dated January first, six years earlier. Thinking she’d found the answer, she skimmed through to the end, when her hopes crashed again.
The final entry was dated December thirty-first, months before she’d met Rob.
She stared at the screen, another wave of depression setting in as she processed the defeat.
“What is it?”
She closed the file and started looking through the folders, hoping she’d missed something. “It’s got to be here.”
“What?”
“My journals. It doesn’t make sense that I’d just stop.”
“When you came out to visit me, you brought your laptop. You said you only kept the desktop as a backup. That you used the laptop for everything.”
“Then where are my journals?”
“If I knew, believe me, I’d tell you.”
He helped her copy the files. “You know, you should put this on your iPad. That way you don’t have to juggle a computer while you read.”
Confused, she stared at him. “What?”
“Your iPad. Email yourself the document file and read it on the iPad.”
He made the same connection she did and beat her out to the living room, where the device sat on an end table, plugged into the charger. She watched as he went through it, looking at document files.
Nothing.
Defeated, she sat on the sofa. “It was worth a shot.”
“You need to email yourself the file from the other computer.”
“Can you please do it?” she quietly asked. “I left Gmail open.”
He nodded and went to do it. A minute later, when she pulled up her email on the iPad, the file was waiting for her.
Bill returned to the living room and showed her how to download the file into her documents and open it.
She settled in to read from the beginning but feeling like she was stepping into the middle of a television series without any clue about the plot and cast.
Most of the entries were short and focused on mundane topics.
Others gave her brief insights about her parents.
We all got a good laugh today when Dad got a new cell phone…
She read until Bill’s cell phone rang a little before six. He looked at it, frowning as he answered.
“Yeah. She’s right here.” He handed it over to her. “Rob.”
“Hey.”
“Hi, honey.” He sounded exhausted. “Where’s your cell phone?”
She winced. “Sorry. It’s in my purse.”
“Okay. Delete the five messages from me.”
“Sorry.” Apparently, before, she’d been pretty adept at dealing with technology. “Are you on your way home?”
“No, that’s why I’m calling. We just finished working a wreck, but there’s another one. We have to cover until the other crew comes back. I’m going to be late.”
Laura fought back her disappointment. “Okay.”
“Shayla and Tony are still coming tonight, though.”
Part of her desperately wanted to see them.
Part of her wanted to hole up in bed and read and wait for Rob to get home.
“Okay.”
“You don’t sound thrilled.”
“It’s okay.”
She thought he might have let out a sigh of frustration. “Are you in pain?”
“I’m fine.” She glanced up at Bill, her gaze darting away from him.
“Let me talk to Bill.”
She returned the phone to him.
Busted.
He stared at her while he talked to Rob. “She’s in a lot more pain than she’s letting on… Uh-huh… Yep. Exactly… All right. Here she is.” He handed the phone back to her.
She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“Yeah?”
Rob did let out a sigh this time. “I’m going to call Shayla and Tony and ask them not to come tonight.”
She wanted to argue but suspected from his tone of voice he wouldn’t be swayed. “Okay.”
“I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
She returned the phone to Bill. “You ratted me out.”
He snorted. “Duh. I’m your big brother.”
After the fact, she was glad Rob had canceled their plans. Bill cooked them dinner and she curled up on the couch to watch TV and tried not let Bill see how much pain she was in.
He wasn’t buying it. “You need a pain pill. And you’re going to take one.” He held out one hand, the pill in his palm. In his other he held a glass of water.
“I don’t want it.”
“I don’t care if you want it or not. I don’t want to see you in that much pain. You’re taking it.”
She suspected he’d stand there all night until she did. Resigned, she carefully sat up, wincing as she did.
“See? You’re in pain.”
“Fine.” She took it, washing it down with the water.
“Now go to bed and watch TV in there.”
“Fine.” She started to go when she turned and grabbed the stack of mail he’d brought in earlier and she hadn’t gone through yet. “Can I take this and read it?”
“Yes, you damn smartass.”
She curled up in bed. There were several bills, a couple of catalogs, and three get-well cards from people she apparently knew, but whose names she didn’t recognize.
The last one she thought might be junk mail, because her name was computer-printed on the envelope, but there was no return address and the postmark was from New York City.
The outside of the card had nothing but a smiley face on it. Inside, in the same computer-printed font, was an inscription.
Welcome home, Laura. Sorry I wasn’t there to greet you personally. Don’t worry, it won’t be long before I see you again.
The scream caught in her throat for a moment while she processed what it meant and let the card fall to the bed. When she finally let the scream rip, Bill burst through the bedroom door seconds later.
Rob stood in the living room of Laura’s condo with Det. Thomas and Bill. Once again, Laura was sleeping in the bedroom with the aid of an anti-anxiety pill.
The card and envelope now resided in a clear plastic evidence bag. “I’ll be honest,” Thomas said. “He printed it out, meaning it’s pretty much untraceable. He mailed it from New York City. I’m willing to bet we don’t find fingerprints on it, either.”