Thomas wasn’t sure he wanted to go down that path yet without evidence pointing that direction. It would likely mean getting a court order, meaning he’d have to put Rob’s private life under the microscope. He wasn’t willing to do that.
Yet.
“Who else would she talk to?” he asked.
“She’s close to Shayla, Leah, Loren, and Tilly. In fact, Shayla spent most of the day with her today, including when I had to come home to walk Doogie. They’re all in the Sarasota area. She’s also friends with Clarisse, but she lives up in Tarpon Springs. We’re a sort of close-knit group.”
“Last names?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not outing my friends.”
Thomas fought the urge to order him to hand over the names and decided to take the more tactful path. “Can you call them for me and arrange a meeting to talk with me? Here, if that would make them feel better.”
He nodded. “When?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“I have to work tomorrow.”
“Then tonight.”
“Clarisse and her husbands have a toddler and an infant. I doubt she or her men will be willing or able to drive down here tonight. That’s like two hours, one way.”
He mentally swore and decided to not question the plural Rob had used for the woman’s spouses. “Then call them for me now and see if they’ll talk to me without you around. I’m not the enemy here. I’m trying to run an investigation. I don’t want to go dragging a bunch of good people through a public mud bath, but I suspect this guy will attack again, if he hasn’t already attacked in the past.”
He didn’t have concrete evidence because they were still awaiting DNA results. But if his hunch was right, Laura’s attacker might be connected to other crimes in Florida and elsewhere.
Rob nodded and pulled out his cell phone.
Thomas listened as Rob made the first call, to someone named Tony, who apparently proposed a different solution after Rob explained things. Rob pulled the phone away from his ear and offered it to Thomas. “He wants to talk to you.”
Thomas took the phone. “Det. William Thomas.”
The man’s quiet confidence didn’t come off as abrasive to the experienced investigator. “My name’s Tony. For now, that’s all I’ll share without a court order. I told Rob I’ll arrange for us all to get together to talk with you tomorrow night in private up here in Sarasota. None of us want to stonewall you, but you have to understand, some of us have jobs and families to protect.”
“I get that. But I have an investigation to run, and if you all cooperate with me, it’ll be easier on all of us. The sooner I can rule you all out, the sooner I can look elsewhere.”
“And believe me, we all love Laura and want to do everything we can to catch the bastard that did this to her. You’ll get our cooperation. One of our friends is a former cop. I’m sure he’ll agree we need to do everything we can to help.”
Thomas felt a little of his tension ease. He’d been worried he’d meet some weird, kinky code of silence, and have to end up getting court orders for more phone records.
Not something he wanted to do. “Then we’re on the same page, Tony.” He gave Tony all his contact info and Tony promised to call him by nine the next morning to give him the details.
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?”
“No.” She let out a ragged laugh. “Maybe I was already seeing one.”
“Did you ask your fiancé?”
She hadn’t thought about asking Rob. “No,” she admitted.
I should ask Shayla. If anyone would know, it would be her.
“Well, I’ll call her as soon as I leave and see if she can stop by to see you today.”
They were still talking twenty minutes later when Laura’s breakfast arrived, almost immediately followed by Shayla.
Laura got up and hugged the woman, nearly making her drop the plastic food containers she was carrying.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Shayla said after getting the containers safely stacked on the bed tray.
Pastor Ben stood. “It’s quite all right. Laura, I’ll call Dr. Simpson for you and notify the nurses about it.”
“Thank you.” After he left, Laura eyed the containers. “What is all this?”
Shayla smiled. “I’m glad I got here when I did. I brought you breakfast.” She peeled the lid off one of the containers. “Spinach, swiss, and mushroom omelet. One of your favorites.” She handed Laura a fork. “Who was that guy?”
Laura climbed back into bed and took a bite of the omelet. It tasted as good as it looked and smelled. “Pastor Ben. He’s also a pastoral counselor. He’s going to call a psychiatrist for me.” She looked at Shayla. “Did I see a counselor or psychiatrist? Or have anything against them?”
Shayla took the chair the pastor had occupied. “No. Why?”
She shrugged as she forked another bite into her mouth. “I just have this…I don’t know. Visceral reaction to the idea of seeing someone. A psychiatrist. I mean the doctors talked about it, too. Said it might help, so I guess I should.”
Shayla looked thoughtful. “You’ve never said anything about it to me. I would think if you were going to tell anyone, it’d be me or Rob.”
“Hey, am I religious?” She studied her friend.
Shayla let out a snort. “No. Definitely not. You’re not anti-religious, or an atheist, or anything like that. You’re just…not.”
“Oh.”
“Why? Did Pastor Ben make you want to take it up?”
“No, not that. Just didn’t know if there was something I was missing out on. Or if I should be asking some higher power for help.”
Shayla wore a smirk.
“What?”
The other woman shook her head. “No, the only pleas to a deity I ever heard come out of your mouth had nothing to do with religion.” Then Shayla’s eyes widened as a sudden look Laura could only describe as horror crossed the woman’s face.
“What is it?”
A deep red filled Shayla’s cheeks. “Sorry. Nothing.” She stood and rushed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
What the hell?
She set the food container on the bed tray and pulled herself back out of bed. It was getting a little easier to move around the more she did it. Walking over to the bathroom door, she knocked. “Shayla?”
Inside, she heard the toilet flush. “Just a minute.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
She was waiting by the door when Shayla emerged. “What did you mean?”
Laura didn’t need to have her memories to know the smile now pasted on the woman’s face was forced. “Just…you know. Girl talk. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that. Is the omelet all right?”
Laura’s stomach growled in protest at being interrupted. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”
Whatever had hit Shayla seemed to be receding as she noticeably relaxed. “Let’s get you back into bed.” Laura let her gently take her arm and help her.
Their eyes met. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Shayla pressed her lips together until they formed a thin line. “You and Rob love each other,” she eventually said. “And you had a great relationship before…before this. I don’t want you hearing the things I have to say and it influences you one way or another about Rob.”
“Why? Are there things I shouldn’t know about him?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” She studied her fingernails for a moment. “I started thinking about it last night. You and I told each other everything.” A little laugh escaped her. “Everything. And Rob and Tony both know that. And they don’t have a problem with it. But knowing it and suddenly having another woman telling your fiancée stuff you did, it might not make him very comfortable.”
She finally raised her gaze to Laura’s. “I’d feel better if you and Rob try to find your more…private memories together. Does that make sense?”
Oddly enough, it did. Laura nodded. “I just want to know everything. I want it all back. I want my life back. I want my memories back.”
Shayla gently gripped Laura’s hands. “I promise, if they don’t come back after a while, well, then I will. And meanwhile, I’ll tell you anything I know that happened that you told me that’s not…well…”
“Sexual?”
Shayla smiled as s
he nodded. “Right. Or stuff that I was there for.” Her smile faded. “I promise you,” she softly said, “there’s nothing bad. Not that I know of, and we were close enough that if there was bad stuff, I’d know about it.”
A thought occurred to her. “Did I have any exes? Anyone who might want to do this to me?”
“No. No one that I know of. You dated a couple of guys before you met Rob.”
Suddenly, this felt very important. “Why did I break up with them?”
“Well, one guy cheated on you. Another took a job in New York and you didn’t want a long-distance relationship. And another guy, you only dated him a few weeks before you realized you just didn’t have a lot in common with him. But I knew him. He met someone else and ended up marrying her over a year ago. They’re expecting a baby.”
Laura’s hope faded. “Amicable break-ups?”
“Yes. Well, except for Cheater McSleazy. You were ready to kill him, but he left without a peep. And that was years ago. Why?”
She reached for her omelet. “It was just a hope that maybe there might be a clue to who did this.”
“I don’t know anyone who’d want to do this to you.”
Laura stared at her omelet and made herself take another bite even though her appetite faded with her hope. “I wish I did. I wish I could remember if I did.”
* * * *
At 8:55 a.m., Det. Thomas’ desk phone rang. He’d been in the middle of going through several reports he’d been emailed overnight from other law enforcement agencies about unsolved cases with striking similarities to Laura Spaulding’s attack.
“Thomas.”
“Detective, this is Tony Daniels. We spoke briefly last night.”
His full attention shifted from the reports to the caller. “Rob Carlton’s friend?”
“Yes. Everyone will be available to meet with you at nine o’clock tonight at my house.”
He rifled through a pile of papers on his desk for a pen. “Address?”
It was off Bee Ridge in Sarasota, east of I-75.
“No need for court orders, then, I take it?” Daniels asked.