them?”
“You don’t.” Ryan reached out and touched her shoulder, trying to impart some comfort. A zing of awareness shot through him, but he kept his face carefully neutral. “The more you try to force your way through the wall, the stronger it gets. You and I are just going to have to find a way around it.”
Frustration flickered in her eyes, and her fingers tightened into fists at her sides. “Why can I remember the fall but not my name?”
“Relax, Tess. You’re trying too hard. Let the memories come back on their own. You haven’t lost them-they’re all still there.”
She yanked on the belt of her robe, cinching it tighter. The tops of her knuckles turned white. Her agitation was clear. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who can’t remember if you like cream in your coffee or mustard on your hot dog.”
Ryan laughed. “Food jokes. Something tells me that you’re hungry again.” He pulled two doughnuts wrapped in a napkin out of his jacket pocket and offered them to her. “I happen to have these. I thought you might get hungry later. Want one?”
Tess accepted the doughnuts and slipped them into the pocket of her robe. “Not at the moment, but I’ll be keeping a close eye on them.” She glanced toward the technician’s booth. “What now?”
“Why don’t you go get dressed. When I’m done talking to the neurologist, we’ll go to my office and talk for a while?”
“Oh, so now you get me on the couch.”
“No, just a comfortable chair.” He flashed her an easy grin.
“I already told you I’m not in the market for a shrink.”
“Fair enough. We’re only going to talk. Decide on what you want to do next, okay?”
She nodded and then headed for the small dressing cubicle across the hall. After she was out of his sight, Ryan leaned down to pick up the sheet that had fallen to the floor.
“Where is she?”
The voice broke into Ryan’s thoughts. He glanced up to see Sidney Bloom, his boss, standing in the doorway. The light from the brightly lit hall silhouetted his stubby figure.
In spite of being a few inches short of five feet seven inches and on the plump side, Sidney never had to work to gain anyone’s attention. When he walked into a room, people sat up and took notice.
“I assume you mean the young woman I brought in a little while ago?” Ryan said, draping the sheet over the back of the chair.
Sidney nodded, his bald dome catching the light. He didn’t appear happy. In fact, he looked downright peeved. Ryan sighed inwardly. Only on the job a few weeks and he already had his boss breathing down his neck for some perceived infraction. Sad fact was, it made him feel right at home. Breaking infractions seemed to be his lot in life lately.
“She’s across the hall dressing.” Ryan cocked his head. “Who mentioned to you that she was here?”
Sidney smiled. “This is my facility, Ryan. I know everything that goes on here-especially when patients are admitted without my approval.”
“She sustained a mild concussion, Sid. She needed to be checked out. The closest medical center is over two hours away.”
The door behind them opened and a petite redhead poked her head in. “Someone in here request a consult from the neurologist on call?”
Before Ryan could answer, Bloom angrily waved the woman off. She shot a quick glance of sympathy in Ryan’s direction before closing the door again.
“I requested a consult with Dr. Adams.”
“You don’t have time to waste treating patients, Ryan. That isn’t why I hired you.”
“I thought you told me you were working on fostering good relationships between the center and the townspeople?”
Bloom’s lips tightened. “Chief Cole tells me this woman isn’t from Half Moon and isn’t cooperating with his investigation. How exactly is that helping the relationship between the center and the town?”
Ryan didn’t have an answer for that, but the fact that Cole had already gotten to Bloom told him that most of his avenues of defense were cut off anyway.
“I’ll take over the treatment of this patient,” Bloom said with an air of authority. “I want you to focus on the reason I brought you here in the first place-your research.”
The demand angered Ryan. He wasn’t about to ditch Tess right now. She was just beginning to trust him, and he had a strong feeling that trust was a major issue with this woman. Abandoning her now was more than therapeutically dangerous; it was downright unethical.
ACROSS THE HALL, Tess stepped tentatively into the small waiting area. The receptionist glanced up and gave her a chilly smile before resuming typing at her keyboard.
Hoping she wasn’t in for a long wait, Tess plopped down on the couch and grabbed a news magazine off the pile sitting on the coffee table. She restlessly started leafing through the magazine and stopped at a page. A picture of a grisly-faced man with tattooed arms stared out at the camera from between heavy bars. “Waiting For Clemency” was the title.
A quick skim of the opening paragraph told Tess that it was an article about a man on death row. Wonderful. Nothing like a little light reading to calm her already-jangled nerves.
She flipped the page and came face-to-face with a picture of the death chamber-a stark white room with a stretcher in the middle. Padded straps crisscrossed the thin mattress, ready to clamp some death-row inmate to the table.
Tess’s fingers tightened on the edges of the slick paper. The pages of the magazine started to shake, and a jolt of terror shot through her. A strange, searing flush blazed across the surface of her skin, and the page ripped beneath her suddenly sweaty hand.
Her head dropped back, bumping the wall. Her vision seemed to darken along the edges. Suddenly, it was as if
She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The magazine dropped from her nerveless fingers and her entire body shook violently.
“Miss!” A voice cut through the pain of the nightmare. “Are you all right, miss?”
Numbers, the color of shiny brass flashed in front of her eyes-5-6-8-7. They drifted and floated as if carried on a current of air. Hovering over her, Tess could see the outline of a small ghostly figure. Then, from somewhere far away, she could hear the roar of a crowd.
She frowned, straining to hear. She was seeing people. People cheering someone. Calling his name. She strained harder, trying to make out the name. But the cheering died away, and the corner of the dream folded and disappeared.
Tess opened her eyes to find the receptionist standing over her, an expression of concern on her tight, narrow face. “Are you okay, miss?”
Tess leaned forward and wiped the palms of her sweaty hands along the sides of her legs, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling. Her hair fell over her shoulders and hid her face. “I-I’m fine,” she said, her voice raspy and uneven to her own ears.
“I thought you were having a seizure,” the woman said.
Tess swallowed. Her mouth had become so dry that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Speech was near impossible.
What had happened? Sucking in a mouthful of oxygen, Tess peeked through the curtain of hair falling over her face. She watched as the woman bent down and snatched the magazine up off the floor.
“I’ll have to throw this out. The entire article has been destroyed,” she said.
Tess grabbed the arm of the couch and levered herself up off the cushions. Her knees quivered, and she almost fell over backward. But she locked her knees and straightened up. Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades and ran down the column of her spine, pooling in the small of her back.
