Witness on the Run. Hope White

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Witness on the Run - Hope White


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      She blinked, and a tear trailed down her cheek.

      He fisted his hand, wanting to stroke her hair or hug her. But he knew better. He’d only break her.

      “Wow, my luck is looking up.” She swiped at her face with the back of her hand. “Sorry about the tears. I know guys hate that, too.”

      “Who are these guys you’ve been hanging out with?” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

      “I don’t remember,” she said with a slight smile.

      The nurse pulled back the curtain. “Time to move her to a room.”

      “Where?” Jake asked.

      “Three-fourteen.”

      He glanced at Robin. “I’ll meet you up there.”

      She nodded and sighed as if everything was going to be okay. She was relying on him to protect her, save her from whatever threat planned to hound her until she was dead.

      God, please let me be up to the task.

      THREE

      Where am I this time?

      Robin opened her eyes and glanced across the room. Sunlight streamed through the curtains as she struggled to remember where she was. Right, she was in the hospital. Yet no flowers filled the window ledge, no balloons or notes from wellwishers.

      Sadness settled in her chest. She felt so utterly alone and frightened, yet she knew she had friends. Her memories might be temporarily lost, but in her heart she knew some things as surely as she knew she was in a hospital bed.

      Robin had friends and family who would be worried about her. If she could only figure out how to contact them.

      “Can I see some ID?” Jake’s voice echoed from her doorway. He was keeping guard outside her doorway, having promised to protect her.

      “Who are you?” a woman challenged. Her voice sounded familiar.

      “ID,” Jake repeated.

      A few seconds passed, then heels clapped against the vinyl flooring, and a cute blond woman came into view.

      Jake stood beside her. “She says she’s a friend from work.”

      The blonde rushed over and gave Robin a hug. Jake started to intercede and Robin waved him off. “It’s okay.”

      There was something familiar about the woman, and Robin didn’t feel frightened. Actually, she appreciated the hug.

      Jake nodded and left them alone.

      “Oh, my God.” The blonde analyzed Robin’s bruised check and bump on the head. “When I heard the gunshot, then nothing, I was up all night trying to track you down. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”

      “What time is it?”

      “Three in the afternoon.”

      “You—” Robin hesitated “—heard the gunshot?”

      “We were on the phone, remember?”

      “No, actually. I’m memory-challenged at the moment.”

      “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

      Another hug. Robin fought back tears.

      The blonde looked at her. “We were on the phone. You were at work, and I ordered you to join us for dinner, then bang!”

      Robin jerked. Closed her eyes.

      “Sorry, that was insensitive.” The blonde placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “What happened?”

      “I don’t know. I—” she hesitated “—can’t remember.”

      “Anything? I mean, you don’t remember what happened last night?”

      “Nope.”

      “Good.” The woman sighed. “I mean who wants to remember seeing someone get shot, right?”

      “Yeah, right, I guess.” Robin clutched the blanket. “It’s all one, big blob of nothing.”

      “That’s probably normal.”

      Robin glanced at her friend. “I mean everything.”

      The blonde frowned. “You don’t know me, do you?”

      “I remember the sound of your voice, and you look familiar, but I don’t remember your name. Sorry.”

      The blond woman shot Robin a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be sorry. It’ll come back. I’m Jenn. We work together.” With a bright smile, she extended her hand, and they shook.

      Robin liked this woman. She was bright and positive, and her presence eased the ball of anxiety in Robin’s chest.

      “I should call work and let them know you’ll be out for a while,” Jenn said.

      “Where do I work?”

      “You’re an events planner for the Anna Marsh Pediatric Cancer Foundation. Tomorrow is the walkathon to raise money for pediatric cancer research.”

      Sadness washed over her. “I knew something big was happening.”

      “See? It’s coming back to you. I’ll call Ruth, the executive director. Where’s your phone?”

      “I think I lost it when…”

      A scene flashed in her mind: crawling on her hands and knees. Pitch black. The monster stalked her. Closing in. Would she make it to the door? Pull the fire alarm!

      “Robin?” Jenn said.

      Robin glanced up. “I was remembering…something.”

      Jenn frowned with concern.

      “Never mind. It’s nothing,” Robin said.

      “And your phone?”

      “I don’t know where it is, but my briefcase is around here somewhere.”

      “I’ll get it. Who else do you want me to call? Your parents?”

      “Are they in Seattle?”

      “Actually, they moved to Phoenix a few years ago.”

      “No, don’t call them yet. I don’t want to worry them. Just for now, let’s keep this between you and me.”

      “Well, the group kind of knows. They were with me when I was talking to you. Trevor was so worried.” Jenn winked.

      “Trevor?”

      “The guy you’ve been crushing on for the past three months. I could make up a playbill of people in your life to help you remember.”

      “That would be great.”

      “What’s causing the memory loss?” Jenn said.

      “Trauma to the brain. I banged my head when I hit the ground. They say it’s a miracle I didn’t sustain more serious injuries.”

      “No kidding.” Jenn went into the closet and pulled out Robin’s briefcase. “You want to…” She held the briefcase out to Robin.

      “No, you go ahead.”

      Jenn rested it on the bed, dug around and pulled out a file folder. “This should have Ruth’s home number. I’ll give her a call. Oh, and it looks like you printed out the sign-up sheets. Want me to get those to her?”

      “That would be wonderful.”

      “No problem. It’s a bummer you lost your phone.”

      “Yeah.” It probably had all her information, names and contact information, special dates and deadlines, and even personal information. She nibbled her lower lip. If she’d dropped it at the scene, the


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