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“Alright,” Merrick said. He stepped out into the hall, but stayed close by to eavesdrop. After his unsettling conversation with the FBI, he wasn’t ready to leave his girl alone with anyone.
The psychologist was speaking and Merrick strained to hear. “So, tell me, honey, if I asked you to go back to your farthest memory – what would it be?”
Merrick held his breath as he waited for her answer. Maybe getting the glass out of her head had restored all of her memory. Would she still want him?
She was saying something, but he couldn’t understand. He moved closer to the edge of the room and craned his neck. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he almost had a heart attack. Fingers racing to the phone he pressed the button to stop the call and held his breath, wondering if they’d heard.
“Excuse me a minute,” the psychologist said.
Merrick didn’t hesitate. He turned and bolted for the next room. The door was ajar, so he ran inside, and hearing feet coming down the hall outside, flattened himself against the wall. The footsteps stopped, then receded, and when he heard the door to Bombshell’s room click shut, he let out a breath, relieved.
“Did you bring my jello?” said a high pitched and raspy voice.
Merrick grabbed his chest and spun around. He’d walked into someone’s room. The older woman had propped herself on her bed, and stared at him.
“Jello? Did you bring my jello?”
Merrick realized she must assume he was hospital staff.
“No, but I’ll get you some,” Merrick said. He left the room and hurrying back to the entrance. He rushed past the front desk, then doubled back.
“What is it now?” said the nurse asked.
“The lady next to my fiancé, she wants her jello,” Merrick said, then walked out of the ward, and into the waiting room. He pulled out his phone and checked to see who had called him at exactly the wrong moment. It was Charlie and Joann’s telephone number from Misty Falls. He considered, ignoring it, considering how strained things had been with Joann– but, he changed his mind. He was tired of avoiding people and things.
Chapter Twenty Four
Joann answered on the first ring. “Merrick Flynn,” she said in a hard, unhappy voice. Merrick pushed a hand through his hair. Now what?
“What is it?” he said, sounding more annoyed then he intended, but this day was starting to get on his last nerve.
“I have a bone to pick with you. Do you realize what you’ve done to that poor girl?”
Merrick stared at the phone. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“The girl you kidnapped, the girl you whisked away from danger, leaving her friends and relatives behind to pick up the damn pieces.”
“What?” Merrick wasn’t processing what she was saying.
“I’ve got a goddamn Missing Person’s flyer here with her picture on it, would you like me to read it to you?”
Merrick’s jaw tightened.
Merrick could hear Joann taking in a deep breath before speaking in a newscaster’s voice, “Missing—Jana Peters—twenty-six years old. Are you with me so far?”
So, there was someone missing, people go missing in every city, every day. What did it have to do with him?
“Are you listening?” Joann said.
“Joann, please don’t address me in that fashion,” Merrick said, his dander flying up.
“Sorry,” she said, clearly without meaning it. “Shall I continue?”
“Yes, please.” A small throbbing began behind Merrick’s right eye. He dropped his hand holding the phone for a moment and rubbed his temple. He could hear Joann speaking, so he put the phone back to his ear.
“…last seen … tall white male driving white SUV, partial plates…. Need I go on?”
Merrick squeezed his eyes shut. Shit, shit, shit. He couldn’t deal with this right now.
