The police had no new leads, and my lack of detail and description gave them nothing to go on.
How could I have seen this person practically five times and not have gotten one look for a description?
I didn’t have an answer.
Story of my life. I didn’t have an answer for pretty much anything.
But I knew I was allergic to shellfish.
The police said they would investigate. That meant they’d file all this weird shit with the rest of my weird shit and hope something came along that gave them an actual clue.
Dr. Beck told me I couldn’t go home. I told him too bad. I wasn’t staying in that hospital another night. All the time I spent there before was enough to last me an entire lifetime.
After another breathing treatment, a vitals check, and a bunch of disapproving looks and lots of notes on his clipboard, Dr. Beck let me go. He gave me strict instructions to rest, as if he thought I were going to go run a marathon or swim the lake.
The thought of swimming in the lake gave me chills, and I shuddered.
“Okay?” Eddie asked, tightening his grip on my hand.
I nodded and smiled. Nurse Ellen was driving us to Maggie’s house. The people in this town (when they weren’t gossiping) were very nice.
Well, almost all of them. Someone was trying to kill me, and it had to be someone in Lake Loch. I could have smiled at them today or passed them on the street. I wouldn’t have known. They were probably laughing right now at my stupidity.
Eddie walked me to the door, where Maggie was standing with concern on her face. Ellen was in the still-running car, waiting for Eddie so she could take him to his truck.
On the porch, beneath the harsh overhead light, he cupped my face and shifted close. “You sure you’re okay to sleep here tonight?”
“I’m sure,” I said. “I’m tired of the hospital.”
He kissed me softly on the lips, right in front of Ellen and Maggie, then whispered a good-bye.
“Call me if you need me,” he said as he walked away.
I nodded.
At the top of the steps, he turned and stopped. “In the house, Am. Before I leave.”
I went inside with Maggie, and she locked the door behind us. She hugged me tight and clucked her tongue at me, looking over the battered, swollen mess I was.
“Lobster doesn’t like you,” she said.
“The feeling is mutual,” I grumped.
She laughed, and something inside me eased. Elmo came racing down the stairs and jumped on my leg. I picked him up and hugged him close, his soft fur brushing against my cheeks and making me smile.
“You should have called,” Maggie said.
“There was nothing you could have done,” I told her, putting Elmo back down.
“I could have been there.”
“You’re here now,” I murmured. Then a horrible thought overcame me. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“What? Why on earth would you say that?”
“Whoever is after me will come here. You’re in danger.”
Maggie waved away my genuine concern. “Honey, there ain’t nothing around here that my Colt .45 can’t take care of.”
“What’s a Colt .45?” I yawned.
“A gun. And I’ll put a bullet in anyone’s ass who comes here,” she said, stern. “Now off to bed.”
“But…” I began.
“No buts. Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied and trudged down the stairs.
“Good night, Amnesia,” she called.
“Good night,” I called back.
Once downstairs, I peeled off my dress and picked up an oversized Lake Loch T-shirt I used to sleep in. After shutting myself in the bathroom, I took a cool shower and cringed at my reflection in the mirror. The welts were still hanging around, making me look lumpy and lopsided.
Stupid allergies.
I avoided getting water in my hair and quickly washed. My limbs were heavy, and my brain was foggy. Once I was finished, I put on the T-shirt, brushed my teeth, and left the bathroom, not bothering with cream on my face. It hurt too much to touch.
The bed with the colorful pillows and homemade quilt called to me. My body practically melted into the sheets, and my sigh of relief filled the room.
It lasted all of two seconds.
The jangle of the French door handle made me spring up and clutch the blankets to my chest. My heart started pounding, and I gazed around for something to use as a weapon.
A soft knock had my head whipping back to the doors. “Amnesia,” a muffled familiar voice called. “It’s me. Let me in.”
Rushing to the door, I pulled back the curtain and peered out. Eddie stared back.
“What are you doing here?” I said when the door was open.
“You really thought I was just going to drop you off on the doorstep and walk away?”
“Yes?” I half asked.
He chuckled as though I were funny, then shut and locked the door. When the curtain was pulled over the windows, he turned to me. “I promised you a goodnight kiss.”
I smiled. “Yes, you did.”
“I always keep my promises.” He stepped close.
I puckered up and tilted my head back, squeezing my eyes closed.
He laughed.
But the kiss he gave me was no laughing matter. The way his large hands supported my head, the soft, warm brush of his lips across mine. My knees went wobbly, and calm washed over me as his tongue swept inside.
Easing back, he dropped a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Someday I’m going to count all those freckles.”
“Stay with me tonight,” I prompted, taking his hand and tugging him toward the bed. He followed behind me, saying nothing when I slid between the sheets. Scooting way over, I glanced back at him, a question in my eyes.
Eddie reached behind him and tugged his shirt over his head. Next, he kicked off his shoes and socks, then slid into the bed (jeans on).
“Are you going to be comfortable like that?” I worried.
He laughed low. “With you beside me? I’ll be just fine.” He settled back against the pillows, stretching his arm out behind me. “Come on, Am,” he invited.
I lay beside him, and his arm tugged me right up against his side, his hand pressing my head gently down on his bare chest.
“I like this,” I whispered, wrapping an arm over his waist, tucking my hand between his side and the mattress.
“Me, too,” he rumbled, his voice thick with fatigue.
I fit along him perfectly. It wasn’t a shock to realize Eddie’s arms was my favorite place to be.