Forgetting Jane (2 page)

“Yeah. Fine. So what do you have?” Elias wasn’t in the mood to discuss his health issues.

The officer got the hint. “Soil samples. Shoe prints. Hair and partial ripped shirt—Maybe you need a cigarette?”

“Crap.” Elias couldn’t contain his agitation toward the minimal amount of evidence and Tom’s insubordination.

“You’re jonesing hard, aren’t you?” Tom’s mouth quirked.

Elias snapped his gloves off, dropped them in the kit, and pulled out a pack of gum. He popped a piece of the nicotine gum into his mouth and chewed it quickly. The taste reminded him of burnt down filters. Nasty, but it did the trick when he needed that boost.

“Not anymore.” Eli exposed the chewed piece of gum between his teeth.

Tom chuckled, then turned his attention back to the shallow grave. “Jesus, Elias. How in the hell did they find her? Alive, no less.”

“Raymond said Harold got off a damn lucky shot. Traitor went to retrieve the bird and found her.”

“That is lucky.”

“I guess.” Elias’s heart sank in his chest. Tom hadn’t seen the woman’s face. The beaten image was plastered in the forefront of Elias’s mind. He could never forget the way she looked.

              “I wonder how the woman’s doing.” Tom snapped at his gloves.

Elias cleared his throat. “I’m not sure. Ryan’s at the hospital. I told him to call me in case anything changes.”

“Should I call Waldon County? I’m sure Chief Bartoz could assist us with a few men.”

“No. We’ll wait for CLS. No more contamination,” Eli said. “Besides, he has his own crap to worry about with that Jolie girl and the few others that had gone missing.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Tom let out a heavy breath. “You think this was random? Or do you think this is connected to their cases?”

Eli shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out.”

Tom nodded once. He grabbed the evidence bags of dirt, fabric, hair, and blood, and carried them back to his squad.

“Do me a favor and call CLS. Tell them to notify the station when they arrive. I’m heading to the hospital. Call me if you find anything else,” Elias said as he turned toward his truck.

“Will do.” Tom saluted. “Hey.”

“What?” Elias turned around.

“You look like shit,” Tom said with all seriousness.

Eli shook his head. “Just as shitty as you do.”

“When was the last time you had a good night sleep?”

Three years ago
. “Yesterday.” Eli lied. It had been three years since he stepped back into this town and sobered his ass up. He had never thought he would have stayed this long.             

“A few hours of rest aren’t going to kill you.” Tom opened his trunk and placed the evidence inside.

“What, now you’re my mother?” Eli glared at the man. He trudged his way around to his truck. “I’m heading to the hospital. Call me when CLS arrives.”

“One last thing.” Tom hesitated. “I got a call from Adams County yesterday. I didn’t want to tell you but now with what happened, you need to know.”

“What?” Elias growled out. Sometimes, Tom grated him the wrong way. This was one of the moments.

“One of their officers found a guy squatting in one of the abandoned farmhouses in Amery. He said the guy looked like your father.” Tom closed the trunk and leaned against the vehicle.

“And you tell me this now?” Eli stepped toward the officer.

“I figured James wouldn’t dare come around here after what he did last time,” Tom said.

“It’s not your decision to make,” Eli countered. He squared his shoulders and asked, “What did they do?”

“They just ran him off.” Tom shrugged his shoulders. “James is too stupid to come back. But with this woman, we have to check every possible lead.”

“Yes, we do. Put the word out for him.”

“What if—”

“Let’s just hope for everyone’s sake that he has nothing to do with this and stays away from here.” Elias took one more look around before he got into his truck. He put his father out of his thoughts and focused on getting to the hospital.

He shifted the truck in reverse and looked into the rear view mirror. Halfway out of the path, a flash of black rushed by, and then vanished out of sight. He jammed on the brakes and twisted to look out the back window. Nothing stood in the distance, except trees.

Fucking losing it.

Damn, he needed a cigarette too. He licked the dry corner of his mouth. “Fuck it,” he uttered under his breath. Bad time to quit smoking. His jaw hurt from chewing on his gum too long. He spat out the gum into discarded wrapper and tossed it into the ashtray.

He threw the gear in reverse, turned the truck around, and drove straight to the hospital.

E
lias stepped out of the elevator into a hallway and noticed Officer Tyson Ryan leaning against the wall outside the door of the victim’s room.

Tyson shifted his slender frame away from the wall as Elias approached. “Hey, Chief,” the officer quickly said.

It was still odd to have a fellow officer call him chief. Elias wasn’t worthy of the title. “Tyson. I’m not Chief Henley, you can call me Elias or Eli.”

The officer’s brow furrowed and nodded. “Okay… Eli.” Tyson’s face scrunched up as though he had sucked on a lemon.

Elias stayed straight-faced. “Call me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“All right, Chief.” The officer relaxed his shoulders.

“How is she?” Elias thumbed toward the doorway.

“Jane is stabilized now, but she’s in bad shape. She actually died, but Dr. Rollins brought her back.” Tyson fidgeted with his belt buckle and looked at the wall clock by the nurses’ station. He looked nervous, and Elias wasn’t sure why.

“Why are you calling her Jane?” Elias asked in a rigid tone.

“The hospital is listing her as a Jane Doe, since she had no identification.” He wrung his hands.

“What’s wrong, Tyson?” Eli stepped closer, his voice lowered.

Tyson cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Beth texted me ten minutes ago. She’s ovulating,” he whispered.

Elias shook his head. “TMI, officer. TMI…” He rubbed at his face and cleared his throat, Elias continued. “That’s not my problem. You’re on the clock and this situation is a lot more important. Do you understand that, Officer Ryan?” Elias’s voice had just enough punch that the officer nodded in response.

“Yes. I’ll text her back and tell her I can’t.”

“Good. Now head out and finish your patrol. And Tyson, keep an eye out,” Elias said levelly. Life was better when he was in the dark about his officers’ personal lives.

“Got it, Chief.” Tyson bolted straight to the elevator.

Right before Elias walked into Jane’s room, he saw Mayor Daniels walked out of the elevator.

“Damn. That’s all I need right now,” Eli glowered, and adjusted his cap. He was in no mood to deal with the meddlesome old man. Yes, he was the mayor, but he was also a nosey son of a bitch who got into everyone’s business.

The vulture stared straight at him. There were no pleasantries on his face or his bearing. Especially not the way the end of his cane hit the linoleum floor with every step. His usual sloth-like gait shifted to swift stride.

“Chief McAvoy, I want a word with you,” Mayor Daniels called out. He pointed at Elias with a rigid thin finger and signaled him to come.

“Mayor. What’s the honor?” Elias folded his arms across his chest.

“I heard a naked, beaten woman was found. How are you going to handle this?” Daniels tapped the end of the cane to the floor with each word.

“I’ll handle it by the book.” Elias stared straight at the man’s face. This was bullshit. Who was in charge?

“Is she local? Does she know who did this to her? I need answers, quick. People of this town have the right to know, especially if we need to protect ourselves.” Mayor Daniels kept on with his inquisition but Eli turned his back to him.

“There is nothing yet to report. But, if anyone is in immediate danger, I will let you know right away. Now excuse me, Mayor. I have to do my job.” Elias glanced back at the old man.

The mayor’s nostrils curled, and he grunted. “Wait—”

Elias stepped into Jane Doe’s room and closed the door. That man had been a pain in his ass since he took on the chief’s position.

With another deep cleansing breath, he pushed the mayor out of his thoughts. Eli took off his Giants cap and slowly walked up to the bed.

IVs and an EKG monitor were hooked to Jane. New gauze wrapped up tight around her head, she looked like a partially covered mummy. Her tangled bloody hair had been cleaned and cut short. It poked through the bandages like tiny spikes.

The rawness around her wrists and ankles weren’t as bad as her face. Jane’s black and blue skin had an appearance of dark purple charcoal smudges. Elias knew better. Flashes of Elise and of his mother penetrated—no, more like barreled their way through his mind. His stomach tightened and twisted up tight into his ribcage. Will the memories ever cease? No. It was
his
penance for not saving their lives.

With the oxygen tube that aided Jane’s breathing, she reminded him of Elise’s first day in the hospital. Elias stepped closer. His lungs constricted. He forced himself to calm down.

Judging from the barbarity of the assault, the bastard meant to kill, but not before Jane’s attacker wanted her to suffer. Elias couldn’t imagine how much she endured, and survived. Her jagged fingernails were proof of her will to stay alive. He admired Jane for her strength.

Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. He hoped that through her comatose state, she could hear him. He had failed in his attempt to save Elise’s life four years ago. He wasn’t about to fail again.

“I promise to keep you safe. I’ll find the bastard who did this.” Eli’s voice shook as he whispered his quiet oath.

One week later

11:57 p.m.

W
here am I?
Jane peered through slitted lids into the murky blackness of the room.

When she turned her head, dizziness and nausea slammed into her and made her shake.

The back of her skull felt bludgeoned.
Oh, the pain.
Jane squeezed her eyes shut, until the pressure ebbed into a light headache. Tears welled up and slid down her face.

Jane’s arms were like lead weights as she lifted her hands to her face. She touched the IV taped along her left arm. The bandage on her forehead stretched from temple to temple.

A soft beeping sound to her left increased. Jane looked over and noticed she was hooked up to a machine. She was in the hospital.

What happened to me?
She framed her face with both hands. Pain needled each fingertip as she pressed them against her skin.

Jane tried moistening her lips, but they stung sharp like paper cuts against her rough tongue. She attempted to get up, but her body felt like a punching bag, bruised and beaten to hell.

Her heart thrashed like a kettledrum, matching the beats from the machine next to her. The rush of blood pulsated in her ears, which made her light headed even more. The sound seemed to echo off the quiet walls of the room. Panic took root.

Breathe
. Her esophagus tightened and an acrid taste burned the back of her throat. She took a few gulping breaths and closed her eyes.

The spinning stopped and the nausea finally went away. She opened her eyes and let the panic dissipate. She had to think. What had happened to put her in the hospital?

Once her nerves settled, she made a slow sweep of the space. Aside from her bed and the machine she was hooked up to, there was nothing else in there.

What time is it?
She tried finding a clock on the walls, but the room was too dark.

Through the gaps of the vertical blinds, the high fingernail moon cast no light. Not sure if she was right, but she assumed it had to be around midnight.

The howl of the loud wind caught her off guard. The fir tree against the building knocked and scratched against the windowpane, like nails on a chalkboard. Jane shuddered. Jumpy, and cold too; the thin sheet that covered her wasn’t enough to keep her warm.

She wanted a nurse. Jane needed answers. Her right hand touched the slender bed remote. Several times, she tried to pull it closer, but the cord snagged around the metal bed rail. Finally, the damn thing loosened.

Jane’s eyes focused in and out. The pictorials on the remote blurred. She pushed all the buttons at once. Her bed shifted up, then back. The TV flashed on, then off. A chirp echoed out, from where, she had no clue. She gave up and dropped it.

Closing her eyes, Jane concentrated on the noise around her. The beeping from the EKG broke the silence, though she was comforted by the continual sound. A sudden chill blew against her skin and startled her. Jane clutched at the thin sheet as her exhaled breath turned into a veil of white. The room turned frigid.

Instant pressure from inside Jane’s head made her nauseous. Vomit rose fast—she gagged it back, but the slimy liquid came up too quick. She turned her head to one side, and let the bile expel from her mouth and down the side of her pillow. She wiped the foulness with her sheet.

She focused on the steady ceiling. The rolling in her stomach subsided, but her temples drummed hard and the back of her head burned deep into her skull.              Shifting to the right for relief didn’t help.

The honed pain suddenly stopped, but the residue of hurt lingered. Jane threw up again.

Please don’t throw up
. As Jane gulped in some air while trying to regain some control of her bodily functions.

The pain in her head intensified; she couldn’t focus on anything stable. She closed her eyes for a few minutes to concentrate on pushing back the pain. When she opened her eyes, a black figure hovered over her and swung something at her head. She screamed and instinctually blocked it with her arms.

With every hit, she recoiled into a ball. Tears flooded over as the spasms in her skull intensified.

Jane screamed again. The dark figure was gone, but replaced by images of the young girl in the yellow dress bulleted her mind like the rapid fire of a machine gun. One right after another, pictures of smiles and laughter, then of a blood covered face, then silence.

Jane convulsed with each gasping breath. She had no control of her body. Terror flooded every part of her. Without thought, she yanked the IV out of her arm and tried to sit up, but the room spun faster and faster, out of control. She wanted the hell out of there.

Her legs were tangled up in the sheets. Once freed, she dangled them off the side and planted her feet on the cold floor.

Her stomach cramped tight, more vomit escaped her mouth; the bile spewed down her gown and the floor. Jane slipped off the bed and collapsed onto the linoleum like a broken doll.

A spike of light blinded her. Blurred gray figures hovered over her like ghosts with no faces. She tried pushing them away. Her body floated up in mid-air. She was dead, and Death and his crew had come to claim her.

Jane wasn’t leaving without a fight. She swung her fists, hitting anything in her reach, putting everything behind her punches.

“Damn it, stop!” Death ordered.

Jane froze when she heard his voice. Gruff and hard. Almost human.

Everything went quiet. Jane tried to focus on Death’s face. She blinked, but she saw was a distorted monster. Her hysteria crested. Her arms flailed out, she kicked, and then a sharp pain on her right arm made her lose what strength she had. She tried fighting back, but it was too late. Death had her.