Undercover Memories. Lenora Worth

nurse came in and gave her a pill. “Just a mild pain pill.” After examining Emma, she asked, “How’s your head pain on a scale of one to ten?”

      Emma held the pill cup and replied, “Maybe a three.”

      “That’s a good sign but take the acetaminophen anyway.”

      Emma didn’t want to take anything that would muddle her memory even more, but the nurse urged her to so she could sleep.

      “You people never let up.”

      “Our job,” the smiling nurse said. “But you’re improving so much I think you’ll be able to leave soon.”

      After the nurse left, Emma looked at Ryder. “Leave? And where do I go from here? I’ve been so intent on getting out I haven’t considered if I had a hotel room anywhere.”

      When he didn’t respond, she said, “But then, you’ve already checked the area hotels, right?”

      “Right. So far, your name hasn’t come up, but we’ll keep looking. Maybe you checked in under an alias?”

      She actually snorted a laugh. “And you expect me to remember that alias?”

      “No. We’ll keep at it.”

      “I have to find a place to stay,” she said, the thought jarring her head all over again. “I can’t go home not knowing.”

      Ryder slanted his gaze toward her, his head tilted. “Well, wherever that is, I won’t be far away. I want to solve this, too. And I want to bring in Bounce and Ounce and slam the jail door on them once and for all.”

      “I’ve given you extra work,” she said, glad to know he was on her side.

      “Keeps me out of trouble.”

      Emma drifted off to sleep with the memory of his determined look and definite tone in her mind.

      Ryder was that kind of guy.

      He did things the old-fashioned way.

      The cowboy way.

      Ryder woke with a grunt.

      He’d heard something. A slamming noise followed by a crash.

      And where was Emma?

      Bolting out of the recliner, he called out, “Emma?”

      “In here.”

      The bathroom door was closed.

      “Are you okay?”

      “Yes,” came the muffled reply. “But that man on the floor isn’t.”

      Ryder whirled when he heard a moan. Rushing to the other side of the bed, he found a tall, athletic man with short platinum hair holding a hand to his head. Ryder drew his gun and yanked the man up.

      “Don’t move or I will shoot you,” he said, showing the man his badge before he shoved him against the wall. “Put your hands up.”

      The man moaned and did as he asked. “She tried to kill me.”

      Emma walked out of the bathroom, her hair disheveled, her eyes flashing. “Well, you tried to stick a needle in my arm. I don’t like needles.”

      Ryder frisked the man and found a knife and a hidden pistol strapped to his ankle. Spotting the syringe on the floor by the bed, he read the man his rights and cuffed him.

      Whirling the man around, Ryder looked at Emma. “Are you really okay?”

      “Yes,” she said, sinking down onto the bed. “I woke up and this visitor came at me with a needle full of clear liquid. I kicked out and hit him toward his...uh...midsection then threw the water jug in his face.”

      “And she jammed me with that bed tray thing,” the man said on a whine and a glare.

      “She’s good about taking care of things,” Ryder said with a grin at the overturned tray. But his heart flipped and flopped in a delayed panic. He shouldn’t have dozed and he should have stayed outside in front of the door. But he’d wanted to be near her. Just one more reason to stay away from her. Giving Emma a warning stare, he slammed the man back against the wall. “Talk.”

      “I got nothin’ to say.”

      “You’ll talk, sooner or later,” Ryder said on a soft promise. “I’m thinking soon you’ll be singing like a little bird.”

      No ID and an unyielding, cold, dead stare.

      “I want a lawyer.”

      “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get one. But for now, you’re mine.”

      In a matter of minutes, the hospital once again swarmed with officers. After Pierce and his men took the assailant away, Ryder finally turned to where the doctor was checking Emma.

      “Doc, she seems okay to me. I mean, she took down a man who could have easily snapped her neck.”

      Dr. Sherrington didn’t smile. “Our patient had improved dramatically but she still has memory issues.”

      “I’m taking her to my ranch,” Ryder said, daring either one of them to argue. “My mother happens to be a retired ER nurse.”

      “How convenient,” the doctor quipped. He looked down at Emma. “Do you want this man to take you away from me?”

      “More than you’ll ever know,” Emma replied. “But he could have cleared it with me first.”

       FOUR

      Since Emma insisted she was leaving with or without the doctor’s release, the hospital signed her out and Ryder followed her wheelchair. The orderly pushing Emma’s chair had been handpicked by the doctor, and Ryder had two patrol officers flanking them.

      They made it to Ryder’s big Chevy without incident, but he kept his gun at the ready until the orderly had helped her into the dark navy truck.

      After thanking the nervous hospital attendant, Ryder turned to the two officers. “Thanks. Let me know if you find anything regarding the man we arrested tonight. I’ll be in to question him later.”

      “Do you want an escort, Detective?”

      “No,” Ryder said. “I’ll be taking the back roads.”

      He got inside and glanced over at Emma. She now wore an old gray sweat suit he’d had stashed in the truck. At least the garments were clean, even if she’d had to tie the pants tight and the hoodie hung loose on her. He’d have to find her some more clothes. Meantime, he’d called ahead to warn his mother and sister that they were about to have a houseguest.

      “How are you?” he asked once she was settled in.

      “I’m having the best time of my life,” she said, her tone solid deadpan, her hands hidden under the cuffs of the hoodie. “Life in Dallas is so much fun I can hardly contain myself.”

      Ryder cranked the big truck and the motor roared to life. Her sarcasm matched his own to perfection, which made his frown dig deeper into his bones. “Well, you’re about to leave the city for a while. You can rest and heal in a secluded, safe place.”

      “I appreciate being sprung,” she said, “but I don’t intend to rest. Do you have Wi-Fi and modern communications?”

      “No, we get by with soup cans wired together and yodeling across the woods.”

      “Funny.” She stared out the truck window. “They’ll keep coming. Someone wants me out of the way.”

      “Well, I’ll keep pushing right back,” he replied. “We can sit down together tomorrow and try to figure this out, Emma. But you can’t go out there without having a plan and a sense of what you’re getting