Holiday Amnesia. Lynette Eason

been to get close to her and find out what was going on in the lab. Over the past month, he’d found himself wanting to know her, convinced she wasn’t involved in anything suspect but that she might have information she didn’t know she had. Now, he’d failed her.

      Grief gripped him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d quit the CIA because he was tired of the covert life. He’d been working as a professor at the university—and healing from life’s wounds—when his former handler and friend, turned FBI agent, had roped him into helping with his case.

      Toby grabbed his phone from his pocket and punched in the number for Ben Little. It rang twice as a fire truck finally screamed around the side of the building. “Yeah?”

      “Ben, it’s me. Someone blew up the lab and I think Robin’s inside.”

      “What!”

      “I failed her, Ben.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. “I failed.” Again. Another woman had died because of him.

      Robin blinked. Then coughed. Her head pounded in time with her heart. The pain nearly sent her back into the black abyss, but she drew in a smoky breath and shoved herself up off the bathroom floor. Darkness swirled, and spots danced before her eyes while sweat rolled down her temples and between her shoulder blades. Nausea doubled her over, but she stumbled to the door and touched the handle.

      Only to jerk back when it burned her hand. Fighting to stay upright and conscious, she staggered to the window and unlocked it. Then realized it was sealed shut. The double-paned frosted window that ran from ceiling to floor was simply for looks, not for opening.

      Groaning, she looked around for something, anything to break the glass. An idea sparked in her smoke-fogged brain and she stumbled to the nearest stall. Grabbing the top of the ceramic tank, she hefted it with a grunt and carried it back to the window, ignoring her churning stomach, pounding head and shaky legs. She gathered her strength and heaved it against the glass. Once. Twice. A large crack formed in the window. Her legs gave out and she fell, gasping, choking, her lungs grabbing at any remaining oxygen in the room.

       Get up! You’re going to die if you don’t!

      Pulling on the last of her strength, Robin hauled herself and the tank lid up. “Ahhh!” She slammed it against the glass.

      The window shattered, the pieces falling to the ground outside. “Oh, thank you,” she breathed.

      She shrugged out of her lab coat, placed it over the jagged edges and hauled herself through the opening. She fell to the ground on top of the glass. Her palms stung and she flinched but pushed to her feet, coughing and gagging.

      Robin staggered away from the burning building, blinded by the smoke and desperate for clean air. The sirens and red flashing lights registered. She pressed a bleeding hand to her pounding head and finally found herself at the edge of the parking lot. She staggered into the trees and retched.

      The world continued to spin, and she fell to the ground, her cheek pressing into the pine needles. She had to run.

      But why?

      She should know why but couldn’t bring the reason into focus.

      Oh, because of him.

      He’d tried to kill her.

      His eyes closed. Then opened. Her head continued its hammering and her ears rang with an annoying high-pitched frequency.

      Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the swirling trees while she tried to figure out what had happened. There’d been an explosion. Something had hit her, and she’d fallen.

      Voices reached her. Instinctively, she scrambled to her knees and crawled behind the nearest tree while she made out the words “...find her. Get rid of her.”

      “There’s no way she survived that,” another voice said. “You barely got out alive and she was still in the building when it exploded.”

      “Maybe.”

      “No maybe about it. You said she ran into the bathroom just before the first explosion went off. She’s dead.”

      “Make sure!”

      “Fine, I’ll make sure.”

      They had to be talking about her. Tremors set in. Shock? She curled her arms around her knees and pressed her aching forehead against them. They wanted her dead? Who? Why? No, she’d seen him. In the lab. His face blurred, and she was sick again. When her stomach calmed down, the world still spun while she tried to force her mind to work.

      She had to leave. To run. She stood, using the tree to help pull herself to her feet, ignoring the pain in her hands.

      As she stepped in the opposite direction of the men who wanted to kill her, a hand slapped over her mouth and pulled her back to the ground.

       TWO

      When Robin went limp in his arms, Toby lowered her to the ground and watched the two men stomp away from their meeting spot.

      He’d been bolting back to his truck, mind whirling, grief slashing his heart to shreds, when he’d heard a loud crash behind him. He’d spun to see a figure emerge from the broken window and stagger across the parking lot and into the trees. The smoke had kept him from seeing clearly, but he’d followed, praying it was Robin but willing to help whoever it was.

      He’d been almost upon her when he’d heard the faint voices but couldn’t hear their words or see their faces. The fact that they seemed to be hiding, whispering and unconcerned about the burning building behind them, triggered his internal alarms.

      Since the person who’d escaped the building was staying hidden and quiet, he’d done the same just a few feet behind her. When she’d turned, he’d caught a glimpse of her silhouette and relief had pounded through him when he’d realized it was definitely Robin. But he’d stayed silent, only moving when it looked like she might inadvertently reveal her presence.

      And then she’d passed out in his arms.

      “...kill her. Tonight.” The faint order given by one of the men he could no longer see reached his ears. He didn’t recognize the voice, but now knew why he needed to act with caution.

      They were trying to kill Robin?

      Once the men were gone, he checked her pulse. Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. “Robin, it’s me, Toby. Can you wake up?”

      No response. The gash on her forehead worried him.

      “Robin?”

      Her lashes lifted, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

      “Come on, there’s an ambulance over here. Let’s get your head looked at.”

      “No. They’ll find me,” she whispered.

      “I’ll stay with you.”

      “No!” She rolled her head back and forth, clearly agitated. “Can’t trust...anyone. Got...to...get away...please...”

      “Robin, it’s okay, I promise. Just let them check your head.”

      But she didn’t answer. She’d passed out again. He suspected she had a concussion, he just prayed it wasn’t anything worse. Great. Now what?

      The fact that she could move her neck without apparent trouble or pain decided for him. If she didn’t want to risk being examined here at the scene, then fine. Now that he had a second chance to keep her safe, he wasn’t about to fail her.

      The hospital wasn’t too far. He shrugged out of his heavy coat and tore the long sleeves from his T-shirt. He wrapped one around his nose and mouth, then covered her face with the other one. He lifted her into his arms and rose to his feet.

      Under cover of the smoke that now blanketed the wooded area,