Silent Vows (3 page)

“No.” She looked down at her hands.

“What about the names Duncan and Fin? Ring any bells?”

Myra’s first thought was, what did bells have to do with it? “No.” She denied knowing her own brothers.

“How about the name Gwen Adams?”

“Adams?” Myra shook her head. “Gwen Adams.”

Tara had referred to Grainna as ‘Gwen’ many times.

Did they mean Grainna? Cold crept up her arms making her hair stand on end and her flesh crawl.

The men exchanged looks.

She circled her arms over her body searching for warmth.

“The name means something?” Todd asked this time.

“Maybe.” What did these men know of Grainna?

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She wanted to ask, but feared the answer. Had they contacted her when Lizzy wasn’t available? Was she on her way there now?

“Gwen Adams disappeared the same time McAllister did.”

A sharp breath escaped from her lungs. Grainna must have followed her brothers and Tara back in time. That was why her mother’s vision warned them of Myra’s death if she didn’t escape into the future. Everything started making sense. Her family was in grave danger.

Her head started to spin. She closed her eyes, desperately trying to hide her emotions, but it was impossible. A burning ache punched her chest with worry.

“Are you okay?” Todd asked.

Myra rolled her head on her shoulders, and squeezed her eyes together, then tried to push away the concern, anxiety and terror from her face. “I don’t know.”

Myra’s eyes met Officer Blakely’s. Starring directly into to them, she said, “I don’t know what to do.” Tears glistened. She caught her lower lip with her teeth and moistened her dry lips.

“We will do what we can to help, Miss…”

“See, that is a problem. What do you call me?

Miss Doe?” A tear fell, and then another. Good God, she wanted to go home and knowing Grainna wreaked havoc back in her time forced her to face why she couldn’t. Grainna would kill Myra for her virgin blood.

Todd peered into her eyes, the eyes of a liar, and she was ashamed, conflicted, torn between telling him the truth or continuing with her lies.

****

Victims had their reasons, their need to remain silent. In his experience, he discovered most liars or victims hid something either due to an irrevocable 17

Catherine Bybee

act of their own, poor judgment in boyfriends, or spouses, or as the consequences of a stupid act in a drunken state. Then there were the others, like the woman in front of him, one he believed kept her silence because of the act of another.

A true victim didn’t bring anything on him or herself, they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Without a doubt, Todd knew Jane’s misery was because of someone else. Someone she had a great dislike for, and most likely a damn good reason behind it.

The nurse’s aide knocked on the door and brought her dinner tray in. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you tonight?” The aide’s nametag said ‘Joe’. He smiled at his patient and ignored them.

Tears flowed from Jane Doe’s eyes. “Hi, Joe,” she managed to choke out.

Joe’s flash of anger surprised Todd when he finally looked at them.
Interesting, she’s already
managed to find friends.

“Hey, if you want to have me kick these guys out, I can,” Joe said.

“We were just leaving.”

“She’s been through enough, don’t you think?”

Joe blurted out, his jaw set in tight anger.

“Thank you for your protection, Joe,” Myra told him. “It’s not their fault.”

“All right. But if you need me, just call.” He set the food tray on the table, walked away and glared at Todd.

She pushed the tray to the side.

Jake asked her, “Our sergeant asked us to take a picture of you. Would that be okay?”

She nodded and flinched when the flash of the camera went off.

“We’ll run this through the system, see what comes up.”

****

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She waited until the staff finished their rounds for the evening before she took out her bag and emptied its contents on the bed.

The sacred stones that moved her through time looked like ordinary rocks, ones found on any plain in the Highlands. Closer examination revealed words written in Gaelic, identifying them as something sacred, something cherished.

Wrapped in linen were a set of candlesticks beautifully carved and encrusted with precious stones. They were a sacrifice for her family to part with, but Tara had insisted that she come to the twenty-first century with something to barter for currency.

“My world runs on money, without it you have nothing,” Tara had said. After many hours of watching the television, Myra understood what Tara meant.

Myra decided to leave the hospital in the morning. The list of places taking in people like her, people with no family or home, was long. She’d surely find a place to stay among them. Myra fingered the list of shelters.

With any luck, she could find a buyer for her wares and be able to pay her way.

Having a plan or at least a direction in which to move, Myra put all her belongings back into the bag, sat in the chair next to the window, and waited for sunrise.

****

The next day was Todd’s day off, but instead of kicking back with a football game, beer and pizza, Todd sat at his desk cross-referencing the names he and Jake had uncovered in their Jane Doe investigation.

Gwen Adams had several hits on the internet, mainly in reference to the Renaissance Fairs she ran throughout the country. A few photos of the woman 19

Catherine Bybee

came through, none of which were flattering. Her identification card and social security number had different birthdays, indicating that maybe Ms.

Adams was trying to conceal something.

He looked again at the picture of a woman well in her 80’s, and racked his brain over what she could possibly be hiding.

Either way, her disappearance occurred the same weekend in July that Tara McAllister vanished, the only fact connecting the two women.

Now Jane Doe showed up with an accent matching the men with whom McAllister was last seen. The puzzle had just become more complicated.

Too many coincidences made for connections.

Instinct told him he was on the right track.

Jane’s ghostly expression when he mentioned the old woman’s name sent a chill down his spine.

Todd’s eyes started to blur. He sat back, rubbed the back of his neck, and reached for his coffee.

On the way home, he turned his car in the direction of Anaheim General. He would question why later, but for now he needed to see her again.

Her expressions the night before haunted his dreams and kept him awake most of the previous night.

He walked the familiar path to her room, this time in a sweatshirt and blue jeans. The badge bunnies who ogled him less than fifteen hours before didn’t give him a passing glance.

He eased open the door in case Jane was sleeping, but the room was empty. The bed was stripped of its linen and the counters void of clutter.

Only a housekeeper was there, mopping the floor.

“Excuse me, where did they move the woman from this room?”

The Hispanic woman stopped, and replied in broken English, “She not moved, she discharged.”

Discharged?
His brows turned in. “Discharged 20

Silent Vows

where?”

He strode back to the central desk where the staff congregated, flashed his badge, and demanded,

“Where’s the patient from room 840?”

“I’m not sure.” The nurse shuffled her feet.

“After report I went on my rounds and she was gone.

She did leave a note.”

Todd felt his pulse jump. He shoved his badge back in his pocket and waited for the nurse to find the note in the chart. He removed his cell phone from his pocket, noticed he didn’t have a signal.

Frustrated, he muttered under his breath and flipped it closed.

“Here.” She handed a paper to him. “I told the doctor she eloped. She wasn’t on a 5150 or anything,” she told him.

“No, she wasn’t being held,” he said before reading the note.

To the Lovely and Caring Nurses, Staff and the
owners of the land in which I was found,
Thank you for all your kindness and care. I
appreciate everything you have done for me. If I can
find a way to repay you, be assured I will do so.

It was signed
, Jane Doe 33.

Todd slammed his fist on the counter, all those behind it jumped. “Can I get a copy of this?” He handed the paper over to the nurse.

As soon as he cleared the hospital doors, he was back on his cell calling his partner.

“Dammit, Nelson, she’s gone.”

“Gone?” Jake asked, the volume on the TV in the background lowered. “Where would she go?”

“I don’t know. I have a list of shelters the social worker gave to her. I’m going to check them out.”

“Why? We don’t have anything on her. No one 21

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filed charges.”

Todd ran across the street to the parking garage where he parked his Mustang. “She wouldn’t last a single night in a shelter, Jake. They’ll eat her for breakfast.”

“Maybe. But there isn’t anything we can do for her.” “I can’t sit and do nothing.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“You’re getting too involved, Blakely. She’s not a stray cat you put out cream for.”

He let out a long sigh. “That’s my point. We’re kinder to stray animals than we are to people.” The phone cut out, ending their conversation.

Todd slammed the car into reverse and drove in the direction of the first shelter on his list and growled, “Sonofabitch, where the hell did she go.”

****

Myra walked down the crowded street, looking at all the faces. Unlike her village, where people smiled and waved a greeting, everyone here seemed in a hurry. She smiled and said a quick hello to some of those who passed by. Only the elderly returned her greeting, the others sent her puzzled looks or avoided her eyes altogether.

The constant hum of the town deafened her ears. The cars driving by at such a fast pace, both fascinated and amazed her. One step into traffic and she quickly realized the cars wouldn’t stop to let her pass. She followed the crowd and learned what the lighted signals meant and when it would be safe to cross the street.

Myra, buzzing with excitement, realized she was alone in a crowded town. No one asked where her family was, or where she was going. Simply walking a busy street in her time could prove dangerous. No one here appeared to mean her any harm.

For the first time since she’d arrived, she 22

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relaxed and enjoyed the freedom of exploring this fascinating time.

She passed places of business that sold everything from clothes to household wares.

Furniture stores and places to buy food, both ready to eat and not, were on every corner.

She wandered aimlessly for quite a while before she asked a shop clerk for directions to one of the addresses on her paper. He sent her a puzzled stare.

He eyed the band she wore around her wrist from the hospital and stepped back.

He thinks I’m mad.

“The mission is down on central.”

“Where is that?”

He pointed her East. “Four blocks that way, take a right. You’ll see it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Whatever.” His eyes followed her as she exited his shop.

Once outside, Myra removed the hospital band and stuck it in her sack.

The Mission was a stark white building covered with letters and symbols. Inside, a woman sat behind a desk, her skin the caramel color of the social worker at the hospital. “Can I help you?”

“Aye.” Myra looked around at the people sitting in the chairs scattered around the lobby. The smell coming from their un-bathed bodies nauseated her.

Their eyes watched her movements. “I was told you provide shelter here.”

The woman took in the full length of Myra’s body. “We do. You need a place for the night?”

Myra nodded and glanced over her shoulder and noticed a man staring at her. He was scarcely more than a lad; the markings on his arms had names and numbers along with pictures in dark colored inks.

She had never seen such a sight before. She looked up at his face, noticed the smoking stick hanging 23

Catherine Bybee

from his mouth. His tongue licked his lips as his eyes raked her body. Frightened, she forced herself to turn her back on the man.

The woman had her sign a registry, and then laughed when Myra wrote down ‘Jane Doe’.

She led her to a large room littered with cots. A curtain separated the men’s side from the women’s.

“You can put your stuff here, but if you have any valuables I wouldn’t leave them.”

“There are thieves here?” Myra clutched her bag closer.

“You’re kiddin’ right?” She didn’t wait for an answer and went on. “They just finished up lunch. If you’re hungry I’m sure they’ll find something for you. Otherwise dinner’s at six o’clock.” The woman left and returned to her desk.

Myra sat on the cot and looked around the room.

So many of those she watched were sick in their minds. Some talked to themselves while others rocked back and forth.

Women with small children stared desperately at the blank walls, hardly existing in their miserable lives. Children, knowing no better, bounced on the cots and played with broken toys and forgotten boxes.
These people have nothing.

As night approached, Myra became more aware of the people around her. The men from the lobby who watched her throughout the day now stalked closer.

She opened her mind to catch glimpses of the men’s thoughts. None of them tried to hide. All of them meant her harm. A tremor of terror washed over her. She wouldn’t last the night in this place if their lustful, evil thoughts came to be. These men were thieves. They would use her and take her things. Even if she did survive, her belongings would be gone before the sun rose, and with them her ability to go home.

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She took her bag, made her way to the bathroom at the front of the building, and kept her eyes to the floor.