Page 15 of Hours to Kill
He adjusted his jacket on his shoulders, and she suspected he wore it for warmth, but there was a gun at his hip too, and he didn’t want to draw attention to it. Law enforcement? Seemed like a good bet to her.
“You a cop?” she asked.
“Deputy U.S. Marshal,” he said proudly, his smooth accent blanketing her in Southern charm.
Right.She pegged him. Meant he might be safer to have around, but also could mean he wasn’t. What if theyhadbeen married? He was abusive and they split? A guy in law enforcement would be the very worst in that situation. So no. She couldn’t let him hang around. Couldn’t be alone with him.
“We worked on the RED team together in D.C., remember?” he asked, sounding a bit desperate, and his eyes reflected the need. “Before you kick me out, think about it. Please.”
“RED team?” She ran the name through her brain, but it didn’t ring a bell.
“Kiley. Sean. Cam. Our teammates.”
He was either a good liar or he’d made up this story in advance. But he was wrong. She lived here in Portland with her ailing mom. Took care of her. Not D.C. “Sorry, no. I’m an ICE agent here in Portland.”
“I know. When we separated, you couldn’t work on the team anymore and your mom was getting frail too. So you moved back here to take care of her.”
She gaped at him.
How did he know about her mom too? How could he possibly know that?
A bolt of fear burrowed into her. “I need you to leave now. I need to rest.”
“Yes, come on.” Patsy pointed at the door. “You and I can sort this out.”
He continued to stare at her, and she felt an anguish so deep that she started to believe they were married. Still, that was impossible. She would remember. Wouldn’t she?
She couldn’t look at the pain on his face any longer, so she closed her eyes again. She listened carefully as the sweet nurse led him out of the room. The moment Addy heard the door close, she opened her eyes and stared at the door. Had she forgotten this man? He seemed unforgettable. A larger-than-life person physically, and though she only got a hintof his personality, she could see he felt things deeply. Lived life large.
She would call her mom to ask, but she had dementia and couldn’t be relied upon to remember a wayward husband. Because if he was telling the truth, they might be married and separated. Why? What had happened?
She thought. Hard. Searched her brain. Nothing. Just nothing. It was all a void. A black, uncomfortable void. She wanted to pound on her head, but it ached so badly she couldn’t do that.
Panic threatened. She closed her eyes and breathed. In. Out. In. Out.
The doctor had said to rest. Not to worry about not remembering the day. Wasn’t unusual. No biggie. It would come back when she was ready to remember it.
But would this guy come back to her memory? Would she remember him or was he lying? And if so, why? Did it have anything to do with an investigation? With the killer, Razo?
She would ask Harris when she came by. Or call Warren. One of them would know—they had to know. Because she couldn’t be married and not remember it. That was completely unacceptable.
An hour passed before nurse Patsy came to the lounge door, her expression serious and not boding well for Mack.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Unless you can prove you’re married to Addy, she doesn’t want to see you.”
Panic crept up Mack’s back and nearly capsized him until an idea came to mind. “Addy called me yesterday. Left a message. Wanted the RED team’s help. I could play it for her. Then she’d at least see that we know each other and that the RED team exists.”
Patsy frowned and didn’t respond.
“Can you just ask her if she’s willing to listen to the message? I can even give you my phone and let you play it. That way she won’t be intimidated by me being in the room.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please. Don’t say no.” How could he convince her to help him? Because it was clear he needed her help if he was going to see Addy again.
Make it personal.“Think about it from both of our points of view. It’s like a gut-wrenching thing to have your wife not recognize you. It’s tearing me up inside.”
Patsy arched a flawlessly plucked eyebrow. “Wife you’re separated from.”
