Identity Unknown. Terri Reed

made on his life.

      Pressure built in his chest, and his head throbbed. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, hoping to ease the tension that was taking root in the muscles. “I’m sorry about the ambulance. And your patrol car. I’d offer to reimburse you for both, but I’ve no idea if I have the means to do so.” The enormity of the situation weighed him down. “This is all so surreal, like I’ve walked into a bad horror flick. Has the doctor said how long my mind will be blank?”

      “I haven’t talked to her yet. We should let her know you’ve regained consciousness.” The deputy reached for the call button.

      The deputy smelled like sunshine on a spring day. He breathed in deep, letting an image of a grassy meadow form. Was it a memory or just a generic thought made up of a lifetime of images that had no emotional attachment?

      As she moved away, he asked, “What’s your name?”

      “Deputy Martin,” she replied in a brisk tone. She was tall and he’d guess shapely beneath the bulk of her uniform. He’d like to see her with her hair down and wearing a dress that showed off her long legs.

      Whoa. Where had that thought come from?

      Better to keep his mind on staying alive and not on some errant attraction to the woman who had rescued him from certain death. Pushing the attraction aside, he went with gratefulness. “Thank you, Deputy Martin, for saving my life.”

      He wished he could do something more for her, but he had no idea what. He had no clothes, no identification and no money. He was trapped in this hospital room until he either remembered who he was or someone claimed him.

      Or the man who wanted him dead got to him first.

      Anger at the unknown man and dread that he might succeed heated his blood but did nothing to chase away the chill that had settled in his core. Was he married? His heart contracted in his chest. Did he have a family worried about him somewhere? He glanced at his left hand. No wedding band. A sign that he was single or just that he didn’t wear a ring? His pulse thrummed in his veins. Frustration drilled into his skull. What kind of man was he?

      Why couldn’t he remember?

      The door opened, and an attractive female doctor wearing a white lab coat walked in. John gauged her age around fifty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a low bun, and she viewed him with bright blue eyes. His gaze darted from the doctor to the deputy. The similarities between the two left little doubt they were related. Mother and daughter?

      “Good morning,” the doctor said as she hustled forward. “I see you ripped out your IV. Are you in pain?”

      He was, but he didn’t want meds. “I’m fine. I can handle it.”

      Her mouth twisted. “Right. You gave us all quite a scare, on many levels. I’m Dr. Martin. What is your name?”

      John grimaced. “I don’t know. I’ve lost my mind.”

      Dr. Martin’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “You sustained a rather dramatic blow to the head as well as some hypothermia. You have a linear skull fracture that will heal with time. I saw no evidence of a brain bleed. You certainly have a concussion, so you’ll need to be monitored for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Most likely the severity of the inciting event coupled with the force of the hit to your temple region caused your memory loss. Retrograde amnesia isn’t uncommon. What can you remember?”

      “Nothing before waking up here.” John darted a glance at the deputy. She’d said he’d awakened last night and that was why she seemed familiar. But he had a feeling she was holding back, not telling him everything. Why would she do that?

      The doctor listened to his heart and his lungs, then checked his pupils. “You seem to be in good order. I have no doubt your memories will return. Just be aware that they may come in spits and spurts and be disjointed. Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. Eventually your memories will slide into place, and you’ll be back to your old self.”

      Foreboding prickled his flesh. Whoever he’d been was someone worth killing. What had he been mixed up in? Something illegal? Was he a criminal? “I shouldn’t stay here. Whoever broke in last night might return. I don’t want to put anyone at risk.”

      Deputy Martin’s gaze zeroed on the sheriff. “The captain’s place. I could take him there.”

      The sheriff shook his head. “No. The safest place for him, and our town, is a jail cell.”

      “What!” The deputy shook her head. “No way. We can’t lock him up without any evidence of wrongdoing. That would be setting us up for a lawsuit.”

      The sheriff arched an eyebrow. “Not if putting him in a cell is for his own safety. I know the law, Audrey.”

      Ah, so that was the pretty deputy’s name. John liked the sound of it. He rolled the name around his brain and tried to remember if he’d known her before his memories had been wiped clean, but his mind remained empty, like a void in space. At least thinking about Audrey didn’t induce any pain in his head.

      Audrey’s shoulders dropped slightly, and her mouth pressed into a straight line. “You don’t think I can handle this situation?”

      The distress in her voice had John tensing. He wasn’t sure what was at play between these people, but clearly she had a chip on her shoulder. A strange protective urge surfaced. His hand clenched a fistful of sheet. He didn’t know why he wanted to defend this woman. He wasn’t sure if she deserved to be defended or not. Maybe she couldn’t handle his situation. Maybe she could. But the one thing he did know was he didn’t want to cause her harm.

      “I didn’t say that.” The sheriff’s tone suggested they’d discussed this conversational land mine before. “But you have to admit, this isn’t something we deal with often here in our little corner of the world.”

      Audrey opened her mouth to reply, but the doctor held up a hand. “David, Audrey, take your discussion outside, please. This is upsetting to the patient.”

      “No, wait,” John was quick to say. “The sheriff’s right. The best place for me is somewhere I won’t pose a threat to innocent bystanders.” Or a pretty deputy sheriff.

      Audrey’s eyebrows pinched together as she turned her baby blues on him. “You won’t be comfortable there. You’re recovering from a nearly fatal head wound, not to mention nearly drowning and freezing to death in the ocean.”

      “Better I’m uncomfortable than anyone getting hurt.”

      Her gaze narrowed. “That’s very self-sacrificing.”

      “Or very self-serving,” John countered. “I have no desire to die. If being locked up keeps me alive until my memory returns, then so be it.”

      “That’s settled,” the sheriff intoned. “Carol, when you’re ready to release Mr. Doe, I’ll take him to the sheriff’s station.”

      Carol’s gaze darkened with concern. “If you’re sure.”

      “I am,” the sheriff confirmed. “It’s best for everyone this way.”

      Audrey made a distinct harrumph noise but didn’t comment.

      “I’ll have the nurse bring our patient’s clothing while I process his discharge papers,” the doctor told them. “He’ll need careful monitoring to make sure his concussion doesn’t worsen. If he loses consciousness again or throws up or complains of dizziness, call me right away.”

      “We will.” The sheriff held the door open for the doctor. “I’ll be outside,” he said to Audrey before he followed the doctor out of the room.

      “That went well,” Audrey said on a huff. She offered him a stiff smile. “Sorry you had to witness that little drama.”

      “What was that about?” he asked. “Are you new to the job?” That had to play into the dynamics between the deputy and sheriff.