Shadow Lake. B.J. Daniels
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in Anna Collins’s eyes that had been painfully familiar.
He hated to think how many times he’d seen that look in his patients’ eyes over the years. More recently, he’d seen it in his wife’s. Defeat. Surrender. A lack of will to live.
With Gladys it had been the pain and knowing what the future held for her. He squeezed his eyes shut remembering the feel of his wife’s hand in his as she met his eyes that final night.
He shoved away the memory and considered the woman down the hall, bothered by the fact that she couldn’t be more than thirty. He realized he could have had a daughter her age if Gladys had been able to carry the baby they’d conceived to term.
Another painful memory to be shoved to the far corner of his heart.
He wondered what had happened to the woman down the hall that had put that look in her eyes.
Most patients were surprised to wake up in a hospital. She hadn’t appeared to be. He could only assume it was because she’d been in a hospital, not that long ago, from what he would guess had been a severe head injury given the sizable older scar that ran from her forehead up into her scalp.
And now she had a cut and goose egg on her temple from her car accident tonight, along with water in her lungs.
He could only guess what this woman had been through. Or what she’d been doing on the lake road this time of year, late at night in a rainstorm. He just hoped she’d been alone in the car, and confused due to her two recent head traumas.
Brubaker couldn’t stand the thought of what it would do to the woman if her son had been in that car.
WHEN ANNA OPENED HER EYES, she found a man about her age slumped in the chair next to her bed. Her heart began to pound as she saw that he wore the blue uniform of a cop.
He had removed his hat. It now dangled from the fingers of his left hand. His dark hair was too long at the nape and his features were rough, his nose obviously having been broken more than once. And, even though his eyes were closed and his breathing deep in sleep, there was a scowl on his face.
Blinking in confusion, she touched her temple and found a small bandage. A mixture of fear and hope filled her as her fingers quickly rushed to touch her forehead, praying that the horrible scar wouldn’t be there.
It was. Tears sprang to her eyes, all hope gone that this was the first time she’d awakened in a hospital, leaving her body like a ghost, her mind and heart again in agony.
As quietly as possible, she turned toward the window, not wanting to rouse the police officer. She’d awakened before with a policeman next to her hospital bed. It had been the worst news of her life. She couldn’t imagine how it could be worse this time.
Daylight spilled through the large first-floor window. Beyond the rain-streaked glass, clouds hung in the pines. Past them, she could see more pine trees and what appeared to be rocky cliffs rising out of the rainy mist.
She had no idea where she was. All she knew for certain was that she’d never seen this place before.
She closed her eyes. Earlier she’d fought the bottomless sleep of the dead, thinking there was hope.
Now she knew better and gladly welcomed oblivion.
“Mrs. Collins?”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Mrs. Collins, I know you’re awake.”
She slowly parted her eyelids to find the cop had walked around the bed and was now standing over her. She hadn’t heard him and suspected he’d wanted it that way.
As she looked up into his face, the warm brown eyes startled her. They didn’t go with the hard leanness of his face.
“I’m Shadow Lake Police Officer D.C. Walker. I need to ask you a few questions.”
She tried to remain calm as she watched him take a small notebook from his breast pocket, pluck a pencil from behind his ear and pull the chair closer to her bed.
He flipped to a page in the notebook and squinted down at it as if he couldn’t read his own writing. “Your name is Anna Collins?”
She nodded, then realized her mistake. “No. Drake. It’s Anna Drake.”
He frowned. “You told the doctor it was Collins and your in-car emergency service has the car’s primary driver listed as Anna Collins.” His attention went to her ring finger and the large diamond next to her gold wedding band.
“I was Anna Collins. I’m only recently divorced. I just haven’t taken off the ring yet or changed my name on the car.” She felt her face flame and cringed at the way she sounded. Pathetic. And still wearing the ring. A woman unwilling to accept reality. That was her.
The cop looked as if he would doubt anything she told him after this. “I understand your car went off the road last night and into the lake?”
She felt a jolt. “Is that what happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
She started to shake her head but stopped herself. Any movement caused excruciating pain. She ran the tip of her finger along the scar from her forehead into her hair, then retraced the line as she had a habit of doing whenever she was trying to remember.
“No, I do remember being in the lake.” She shuddered as she had a flash of memory—water rising over the hood of the Cadillac.
He studied her, then asked, “Who was in the car with you?”
She swallowed and straightened the covers. “No one.”
“What about your son? You told the doctor your son was in the car with you.”
Her throat closed. “I was confused. He wasn’t in the car.” She touched the old scar again then, realizing what she was doing, quickly brushed her bangs back down over it and curled her hands together in her lap to keep them from shaking.
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re saying. Ms. Drake?”
She hadn’t been Anna Drake for almost ten years. Why had she insisted on taking her name back? She could no more go back to being the woman she’d been before she’d married Marc Collins than she could change the past.
“My son wasn’t in the car with me.”
“Tyler, right? You’re sure he wasn’t in the car?”
“Yes. I told you I was confused earlier. I thought—” She turned her face away. “I was wrong.” Tears burned her eyes. “Please, I’m really tired.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Where were you going when you had your accident last night? Were you headed to Shadow Lake to visit someone?”
She shook her head, the pain almost comforting compared to the fear that quaked through her. History was repeating itself. She couldn’t remember last night. Nothing.
“I don’t know where I was going. I…I don’t remember.” She closed her eyes. “Please, I just need to be alone.”
“Where is Marc Collins?”
“I don’t know. I told you. We’re divorced.” She squeezed her eyes tighter, her fingers gripping the sheet until they ached. She heard the cop swear under his breath and could sense him still sitting there watching her. After a few moments, she heard him close his notebook. But he didn’t leave. Please, just go away.
“Is there someone I can call? Family? A friend?”
“No,” she said, without opening her eyes. “There is no one.”
She waited until she heard the door close behind him before she let it out, the anguish, the tortured grief. Tyler. My baby. Oh God, Tyler.
CHAPTER FOUR
POLICE CHIEF ROB NASH bolted