Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (28 page)

“Don’t worry, babe. You’re getting close to your mind accepting what happened. That’s why your dreams are closer and closer to the truth. And I promise the Saints will find out who’s behind this.”
And I vow to keep you safe, always.

G
race, ensconced in
Jack and Bethany’s living room, settled on the sofa staring out at the Saints. Everyone was there, other than Cam, who had not left Miriam and their daughter’s side.

Grace had just relayed her latest dream remembrance to them and Marc, as well as Bart, agreed it seemed to be at the Savine farm. Luke set a laptop down on the coffee table facing her and began scrolling through the pictures that had been taken the night before.

Staring, she concentrated as hard as she could, knowing how much easier their job would be if she could identify what she was looking at with her memories. Picture after picture showed dark woods, a dirt road, and a barn.
My dream could have taken place here…or the reality is that these pictures appear generic…why, oh, why, can’t I pull it all together?

She lifted her gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear, her expression one of regret, and said, “It could have been here…but I can’t be sure. I can’t say that there is anything completely recognizable.”

“That’s okay, Grace,” Jack said. “The pressure is not on you to remember or identify, but on us to solve your mystery.”

Luke said, “Now, I’m going to show you pictures of the man who owns the property and see if he looks familiar.” The screen filled with a picture of Joe Savine.

She closely inspected the middle-aged man with black hair and dark eyes. He was completely unremarkable. Shaking her head slowly, she said, “I can’t say if I’ve ever seen him. In my memory, I just see the gun in his hand. There was light coming from behind him, keeping his face in shadows, but reflecting off the metal of the gun.” She thought for a second and added, “In fact, since the only thing he shouted was for me to ‘stop’, I can’t even tell you if he had an accent.”

Flopping back on the sofa seat, her frustration grew so that she was barely aware Blaise put his arm around her.

“Don’t be upset, Grace,” he cautioned. “None of this is your fault. We’re piecing it together, bit by bit. Just focus on how much progress you’ve made.”

As the Saints talked amongst themselves, she stared out of the large window for a few minutes. The Blue Ridge Mountains in the background had seemed calming, but now they seemed to be holding a secret.
Something led me up there. And then someone chased me back down…not wanting me to live to tell about it.

Turning suddenly, she sought Blaise’s eyes and moved toward him. Resting her hands on his chest, she said, “I’m tired of hiding. I want to get back out and let people know I’m alive. That could flush out whoever wanted me dead.”

Seeing him about to protest, she gently placed her fingers on his lips. “I’m not talking about taking an ad out in the paper that says ‘here I am’; just not hiding anymore. And another thing,” she rushed on, seeing him lift his eyebrow, her finger still on his lips. “I want to start gaining my old life back. I want to visit the K-9 training grounds with Gypsy and visit with Carter and Jocelyn. Hell, I even want to go back to the Richmond Airport!”

The silence in the room was only broken with Blaise’s heavy sigh. After a moment, he nodded slowly, his blue eyes piercing hers. “I know, babe. I guess after what all you went through, I wanted to keep you wrapped up, safe from anyone who wanted to hurt you. But I know you can’t keep your existence hidden anymore.”

The others were nodding their agreement and Jack said, “I think it would be a good idea for you to be escorted as you go back and discover your old life.”

Blaise jerked his head around, “Oh, hell yeah.” Looking back at her, he said, “Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you.”

“Well, tonight’s a good time to start,” Jack said. “We’re all meeting at Chuck’s for a drink and some wings. The other women’ll be there.”

Nodding, she smiled. “I’d like that. I haven’t been back there since Blaise first saw me. I’d like to go back to where we first met…even if our meeting wasn’t exactly amicable.”

Blaise returned her grin. “All right…Chuck’s it is.”

The gathering broke up as Bethany and Grace left to visit Miriam and the Saints moved their meeting downstairs in the conference room.

*

Gathering at Chuck’s
Bar and Grille that evening, the Saints and their women toasted to Cam and Miriam’s baby. Next came a lifted glass to missions solved, old friends, new friends, and the women they loved. It did not take long for the group to become boisterous with laughter.

Grace looked around at the interior of the bar. She remembered the last time she was here, sitting on the end stool, hoping no one noticed her munching on the peanuts. Her gaze moved back to the gruff looking man behind the bar.
He was the one here before. The one who made sure the peanut bowl was filled and then brought over the plate of wings for me. He knew I couldn’t pay, but served me anyway.
Her lips curved into a slight smile, thinking of his kindness. She noticed him looking at her when she came in with Blaise and his only acknowledgment had been a head jerk.
But that movement conveyed exactly what I needed—acceptance and non-judgment
.

Blaise glanced down at Grace, noting as her dark eyes took in the familiar setting. Dressed in faded jeans that hugged her curves and an emerald green tank top, she appeared far different than with the baggy clothes she was wearing when he had met her. Her hair, now glistening under the bar lights, flowed down her back. Her face, not hidden behind a hood, was breathtaking. Porcelain skin. A slightly upturned nose. Warm, chocolate eyes. Her makeup was subtle, with just a hint of blush and a dash of lipgloss. As she turned toward him, he realized her expression was pensive.

“What’s wrong, babe? Are you all right?” His voice was laced with concern and he was ready to whisk her out of the bar if the memory of being here when her circumstances were dire, was more than she could take.

Startling, she looked up, her face no longer somber. “Oh, I’m fine, Blaise. Really.” Seeing the doubt on his face, she explained, “It was a little weird at first, to look over at the bar and remember what I looked like…and felt like, the last time I was in here. But,” she placed her hand on his chest, “everyone here was nice and you…honey, this is where I met you.”

Grinning, he was about to kiss her when they were interrupted by a call from across the bar. “It’s about time you all got in here to celebrate the first Saint baby!”

Sauntering over, Trudi greeted the gathering with smiles and hugs. Stopping at Grace, she cocked her head to the side, saying, “Lordy girl, you clean up good!”

Blushing, Grace was not sure how to take the bold woman but before she could ponder the overpowering woman’s words, she was pulled into a warm embrace.

“I kicked myself four ways to Sunday,” Trudi whispered in Grace’s ear, still holding her tight. “I should have made sure you had all the food you needed that night.”

Pulling back just enough to look into the kind eyes filling with tears, Grace said, “It’s not your fault. I was skittish, to say the least, and definitely didn’t trust anyone. But you gave me food and for that, I am truly grateful.”

Trudi, blinking her heavily mascaraed eyes, said, “You remember what happened to you?”

“Some…but not all,” Grace replied truthfully, then watched in surprise as the tiny dynamo in front of her whirled around to the Saints sitting at the table.

“What the hell is wrong with you people? Sittin’ here, braggin’ about how good you are! What are you gonna do about this one and who the hell hurt her?”

The table grew quiet before the chuckles began. Blaise, not sure which was bigger—Trudi’s hair, heart or her temper—stood quickly, seeing the concern in Grace’s eyes as he pulled her close, said, “Simmer down, Trudi. We’ve got her covered.”

Leaning back, Trudi’s gaze focused on Blaise’s arm tucking Grace in protectively—and possessively. Her face quickly morphed into a knowing grin. “So that’s the way of it. Well, Praise the Lord. ‘Bout time you found a good woman…one who’s not afraid of a little cat fur!” With that, she turned and high-heeled back to the bar, getting another round.

Several hours later, as the gathering dispersed, Blaise asked, “Did you have a good time?”

“Absolutely! This was just what I needed—a chance to get out with new friends and feel normal again. Not worrying about what I can remember or how long it will take to get all of my memory back.”

Looking down, her smile under the slight illumination coming from the bar lit his world. “Come on, babe. Let’s go home.”

As they drove out of the parking lot, a person stepped out of the shadows, their eyes following the taillights. Pulling out their phone, they placed a call. “She’s fuckin’ alive. I couldn’t believe the rumor, but she is. Sounds like she doesn’t remember what happened. And sounds like she’s living with some security type guy. Yeah. Yeah. I know. This time, the job needs to be done right and no fuck ups.”

*

Two days later,
Blaise drove into the driveway of the K-9 training facility. Gypsy jumped around in the back seat, but Grace nervously peeked out the window. Blaise remained quiet, allowing Grace to explore at her own pace.

Finally alighting from the vehicle, she glanced up at Blaise, clutching Gypsy’s leash tightly in her clenched fist. Instead of walking toward the building, she followed Gypsy to the side where the training fields were located. Standing back, he watched as the two wandered aimlessly at first and then with more direction. Gypsy recognized the fields and Grace began calling out commands to the responsive dog.

Smiling, he realized Grace remembered the K-9 training center as she moved as one with Gypsy. Noise from behind had him turning quickly. Douglas Wilkins had come through the side door and Blaise caught his look of incredulity as he stared at the two on the field.

“She’s okay,” the older man said, a smile on his face. Turning toward Blaise, he continued, “When you came by to say she was missing, I was worried. I even called over to the RIA TSA and talked to Bernard.”

“Yes, she had an accident, but is now fully recovered,” Blaise lied smoothly, his eyes assessing Douglas’ manner. The man appeared pleased to see Grace, but Blaise took nothing for granted.

Just then, Gypsy came trotting over, eager to greet Douglas, who immediately bent down to rub the dog.

“Hey girl, good to see you again,” he effused, gaining a bark of approval.

Grace approached more slowly, a shy smile on her face. “Mr. Wilkins,” she greeted, her gaze jumping between her former teacher and Blaise.

Standing, Douglas stuck his hand out and, as she took it, he said, “Glad to see you’re all right.”

She noticed as his eyes landed on her forehead and she self-consciously reached up to touch the scar. “I’m fine. I was in an accident and had to take time to recover. Gypsy and I wanted to visit our old training ground today. I hope you don’t mind.”

Shaking his head, he answered, “No, no. Not at all. I saw you running her through the paces from my window. You two look good.” He stared off into the distance for a moment before pinning her with his gaze. “An accident? I’m real sorry to hear about that.”

“I’m fine now, but had to…um…take some time off of work.”

“Well, I’m sure the TSA will be glad to get you back on the job,” he added. “They were keen to get their hands on you.”

“Thank you…um…have you heard from Carter or Jocelyn since graduation?”

With his hands on his hips, he shook his head once more. “No, not either of them. Last I heard, Jocelyn was with her dad’s sheriff’s department and I’m not sure where Carter ended up.”

Not knowing what else to say, she glanced at Blaise, who stepped up to shake Douglas’ hand. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Wilkins,” he said, effectively ending the conversation.

As they walked back to the car, Gypsy still excitedly jumping around, they missed the piercing gaze of the K-9 Director as he made his way back into the building. Watching them pull out of the parking lot, he placed a call.