Forgetting Jane (5 page)

“Do you remember any detail of that night or something about your attacker?” Elias repeated, trying to keep his voice even. His throat hurt from the strain.

Jane shook her head no. She cupped her knees to her chest and placed her face in her hands. “I don’t remember anything.” More tears were born.

“Are you kidding me?” The words slipped out in a low hiss before Elias was able to wrangle them back.

Jane shot a sparked glare at him. “Really?” Her tears ceased, and anger replaced her sorrow.

Elias quickly recognized her steely temper. Maybe being gentle with her wasn’t what she needed after all. Only hard facts and truths could bring out her memory. She was a fighter, just like him.

“I’m sorry the truth hurts, but at this point we don’t have any leads. I need you to remember something, anything, no matter how small in detail. It will help.” His brash tone bothered him, but at least Jane would stay strong through this crazy nightmare. To hell with what the doctor said.

“Like I said, I don’t remember anything.” Her lips became thin. She shifted her face back to the window and remained quiet.

Her silence irked the hell out of him, but what more could he say?

“This is unbelievable.” Elias’s words came out soft, but they grated between his teeth. His eyes never wavered from her face. “Do you at least remember your name?”

Jane turned back. Wetness threaded through her lashes, it made her chocolate brown eyes more intense. “Everyone here calls me Jane.” Her voice came out hard and fast. Her body shuddered and she turned away, dismissing him. Was it his cue to leave?

Elias got up and walked around to the other side of the bed. He wanted to be sure she was going to be okay. “Jane,” he uttered with sincerity this time. “Look at me, please.”

The moment she looked up at him, he saw dejection on Jane’s face. He was being a total jackass for pushing her too much, but it was for her own good.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Elias said as he raked through his hair. “But you are the only one who has the answers. There might be another victim out there who this son-of-a-bitch is trolling for or caught. They might not be as lucky as you.”

She reached over and grabbed the last tissue out of the box. Her tears flooded her face again. She took a hiccupped breath before answering. “I wish I can help you. I don’t remember anything other than bits and pieces of when I woke up in the hospital.”

“That’s okay.” His gut twisted tight from her admission. His attempt to re-waken her memory was futile.

“I’m sorry.” Jane wiped her tears with saturated ripped tissue. “Though I have these dreams…they’re killing me,” she admitted. “They’re constantly running through my head and I...” Jane hiccupped and leaned back into the bed. She closed her eyes, cupping her hands to her chest.

“Dreams?” Elias said softly. He wished he never had one himself. “Maybe Dr. Rollins will have some insight. You rest.” He didn’t wait for her reply and walked out of room rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

The enormity of the information given, or the lack thereof, made Elias realize that he had nothing on this case. Not only did he lose his only witness to what he thought maybe was amnesia, but the only proof of a crime committed was the hole in the ground she came out of. Nothing else.

With so little evidence, no proof of who did it, and no viable witness, he was literally screwed. He couldn’t see this case having a successful conclusion. With her amnesia, she might never remember.

He might never find out who did this to Jane. But one thing was for sure: he had a victim who wanted answers, and so did he.

J
ane swiped the wetness with the back of her hand as tears trickled down her face. Her nose stuffed up and she couldn’t breathe.

Damn you, Chief. Is it hard to show some compassion?

Her calm mood flipped to anger the second he walked in. Jane didn’t like him from the moment he opened his mouth. Actually, she didn’t like anything about the man. His demeanor was deplorable, not to mention the way he looked. His face wasn’t shaved. His clothes were so disheveled, Jane assumed he rolled out of bed with them on. She wondered if he even showered at all? What kind of man was he who couldn’t take care of himself but was going to help her?

As much as the chief’s appearance irritated her, his intense green eyes unnerved her so much more that she couldn’t keep eye contact for long. Too intense.

She had to turn away before she really broke down and wailed like a baby. And lately, that was all she was doing.

She wanted the truth, yet he didn’t have to be so blunt about it. He made her feel inconsequential, and she didn’t need his help with that either.

Jane had questions. However, instead of asking them, she ended up tight-lipped because of his harsh attitude. His nose flared when she told him that she couldn’t remember anything. He even gnashed his teeth.

Why hadn’t she just answered his question about the girl? Jane hadn’t remembered much, but she did recall the child’s yellow dress the morning she was found. A few blips of memory—flashes of images of things and people, but nothing that drew her memory out.

Looking down at the last bit of tissue in her hand, she wiped her nose with it and looked at it again. That tissue reminded her of herself; she was falling apart, fast. No hint of her name shadowed her thoughts or a clue to where was she from. Who were her family or friends? She concentrated on those questions but the black veil of her memory stopped her, and left her with a pounding headache.

Who had tried to kill her?
What if the bastard came back? What if I never regain my memories?

Jane shook off the ardent fear while she stared out the window and watched the fir tree that swayed in the wind.

She felt so alone.

The idea that she might never get her memory back made her stomach lurch. She closed her eyes to let the frustration and self-pity run their course.

Get over it. Life’s too short to dwell. Actions speak louder.
Somebody once told her that. But who? She took a deep breath and sat up very carefully. She placed her feet onto the cold floor and moved to the edge of the bed. She used her IV stand as support and toddled her way to the bathroom.

The nurses insisted that she needed assistance, but she didn’t want anyone’s help. If she’d survived a vicious attack and lived, then she could walk on her own and go to the bathroom without any help.

The white porcelain sink was an arm’s length away. Jane reached out with both hands, grabbed it and leaned against it. She looked into the rectangular mirror. The face was familiar but reflected back a frail beat-up woman. There wasn’t a spark of recognition as she studied her own features.

This was the first time she’d had the courage to look at herself. The sight of her battered face struck her hard. Jane didn’t realize that she’d been beaten so badly. Her cheekbones were sore to her touch. She traced her fingers along the stapled ridgeline of the gash at the back of her head.

Jane gently ran her hand over the sprigs of hair that poked out of the white gauze. She looked like she wore a choppy short hair wig. From her multi-colored skin, bloodshot eyes and to her head wrapped up like a demented present, she definitely wasn’t a prize. She looked scarier than the walking dead.              

She closed her eyes and shifted her stance for a moment to collect herself, but moved too fast. She wanted to puke from the dizziness. Jane’s pulse quickened. The room spun. A burning migraine seared the back of her head like a branding iron to flesh. The pain became unbearable. She clutched her head to control some of the pressure but it wasn’t helping. She almost collapsed onto the floor, but she held onto the sink and breathed out the pain.

The room turned cold, turning her skin into gooseflesh.             

She had her head down, her eyes open to the dripping water off the faucet.

Breathe.

The hard spasms subsided. She gulped in the air with relief. She looked up and saw frost iced the edge of the mirror. It climbed inward toward her reflection. She sucked the cold air into her lungs and exhaled her chilled breath.

Jane shivered. The person in the mirror wasn’t her. Terror flooded her as she faced death.

J
ane’s scream echoed at the other end of the hallway. “Not again,” Elias spat out. He bolted to the room. He rushed in and found her crumpled on the bathroom floor.

She shook uncontrollably. Jane covered her face with her arms and kept repeating, “No…”

Elias swept her up into his arms and held her tight to his chest. Jane’s cold skin made him shiver. Her heartbeat was fast and erratic, it matched his own. She wrapped her arms around his neck like a vise. Elias had to turn his head to breathe.

Magda, Dr. Rollins and another nurse rushed in. They encouraged him to put her down on the bed, but Jane wouldn’t let go of him.

“Please, don’t let go,” Jane uttered in a weepy whisper in his ear.

Elias’s heart dropped at her plea. Jane’s tears soaked his collar. “I won’t,” he whispered back and held her tighter. “You’re safe, Jane.”

Her cold cheek against his warm skin sent chills down his back. Elias’s instinct was to take her and run, but he stayed cemented. He held her for as long as she needed him.

His blood charged through his veins in a thunderous rush. Elias’s adrenaline flashed through his body like an electrical storm. His lungs burned as he took a shallow breath.

“What happened, Jane?”

Jane loosened her grip, leaned back and looked straight into his eyes. Their lips were an inch apart; her stuttered breath caressed his jaw. Terror was etched on her face. The urge to lean in and kiss her shocked him. Instead he pursed his lips tight and pulled her further back, at a safe distance. Elias had a hard time thinking straight. He wasn’t sure where the sudden irrational inclination came from, but he stopped himself before he made that terrible mistake.

Jane shook her head. “Not safe.” She put her face back in the crook of his neck. “He’s after me.”

“Who, Jane?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see his face,” she sobbed. Elias tightened his hold on her, but his insides were breaking down fast.

“Jane, look at me.” Elias’s tone came out harsher than he wanted. “Look. At. Me.”

She complied but didn’t release her tight grip.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. Do you trust me?” Asking her to trust him was a lot, but that was the only way he could cut through some of her fear.

“I…trust you,” Jane gulped out. She loosened her grip around his neck.

“Then let me put you down. Magda and Dr. Rollins are here to take care of you.” She looked over at them and then back at Eli. She nodded and released her grip.

With reluctance, Eli laid Jane into bed. The second he released her, both nurse and doctor came forward and nudged him out of the way.

As the medical team checked her out, Eli entered the bathroom with caution. He found nothing in the small space. No girl. Not even a bug. The air had an odd odor, which he wasn’t able to place, almost rotten. No cleaning solution smelled that way. Not even the soap Jane had sat open on the sink.

Aside from the faint unidentified scent of cleaner, nothing seemed out of place. Yet, a single drop of water slid down the side of the mirror and plopped into the sink. With his finger, he touched the droplet and brought it to his nose. No smell. He stuck out his tongue and tasted it. Water. He touched the edge of the glass and moisture rimmed it.
How odd
. His hand came back wet. Elias wasn’t sure what caused the condensation. The sink was dry and so was the faucet.

Elias scratched his head, bewildered by what he saw. He gave the room one last look before he left it. Nothing there. 

Magda pulled him off to the side. “So? What scared her?”

“I don’t know, but there is nothing in there.” Eli kept the condensation to himself. “How is she?”

“She’s calm, but she needs to rest, Chief,” Dr. Rollins interrupted.

Elias pulled the doctor out into the hallway, out of earshot of Jane. “Can her head injury cause delusions?”

“That’s a good possibility. Her occipital lobe has a severe sub-hematoma, and that type of trauma, especially to the brain, can cause numerous affects.”

“Simple English, Doc.” Eli folded his arms to the chest, his impatience wearing thin.

“Swelling to the brain. Such trauma to the brain will cause memory loss in various degrees and affect the healing process. How much? Every case is different. She could be seeing or hearing things too. That could be what she was experiencing in the bathroom. Her past. Or like the girl in the yellow dress.”

“A girl in the yellow dress?” Elias asked, uncertain of this information.

“Yes. The morning Jane was brought in, she was rambling about a girl in a yellow dress and how we needed to help her,” Dr. Rollins explained, writing notes on Jane’s chart.

“Why hadn’t anyone brought this piece of information to me? It could be a witness.” Elias was pissed. If this girl saw Jane, she might have seen the killer too. “Doc.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was pertinent. And, at that point she flatlined.”

“I would like to ask her a few questions.” Eli began to walk back in, but the doctor stopped him.

“Chief, Jane needs more time. You pressing her with more questions might drag her recovery time longer. Give her a few more days.”

“I’ve waited long enough. I have her trust now. Maybe there is something she’s remembering, like more details about the girl in the yellow dress.”

“Pushing Jane might do more harm. Remember that.”

Elias’s body stiffened. He looked down at the doctor. Between gritted teeth, he said, “All right. Two days.” He raked both hands through his hair as doubt settled in the pit of his stomach. This elusive girl in the yellow dress might be the only clue to solving the case. He wasn’t going to wait two days, especially if could capture the bastard who’d tried to kill Jane.

“A few more days will help.” Dr. Rollins walked away.

Elias walked backed into the room and instantly locked eyes with Jane. Her tensed-up body relaxed and she gave him a small smile as he approached.

Magda cleared her throat as she fixed Jane’s sheet and blanket. She walked past Elias and glared at him, which only could be described as a warning.

He proceeded with his questioning. “Jane, tell me about the girl in the yellow dress.” he said gently.

Jane lost her smile. She bit her lower lip and looked away. “I don’t know who she is.”

“Tell me the truth. Where did you see her?” He wasn’t going to leave until she opened up.

Jane wrung her hands, and looked back at him with watery eyes. “The morning I was found—I only remember bits and piece of that moment.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

She pressed her hands together to her chest. “No. But like I said, she was there and then disappeared.”

“Disappeared? Like walked away?” Elias couldn’t hide the agitation.

“No. Like she just vanished,” Jane said with worry.

Eli cocked a brow at her. “Like a ghost or something?” He could help but let out a single chuckle.

Jane scowled at him. “Something like that.” Her eyes cut away to her lap, but Elias saw them glazed with tears. Shit.

“Jane.” He had no one to blame but on himself. “I’m…sorry for…” That apology was half-assed and not so contrite.

Though, her silence hadn’t deterred him from pushing her. “So, you saw a ghost.”

She blew out a heavy breath before she spoke. “Yes, I think so. Now get out of my room. I’m tired.” Jane grabbed her bed remote and reclined the bed back. She pulled up the white sheet and blanket to her chin and turned away.

Elias hated the way she dismissed him. Maybe the doctor was right, Jane was delusional. Waiting a few more days couldn’t hurt.

He pulled his card out from his back pocket and placed it on the tray next to her. “Here. In case you remember anything else, you can reach me from this number. And Jane…” he waited until she looked at him. “I am here to protect you. I will find out who tried to kill you, that’s a promise.” He strode out of the room with purpose. Ghost or not, he needed to find out who this girl in the yellow was.