Read Online Hiding in the Shadows by Kay Hooper - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kay Hooper
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known Dinah, or where we’d met? Anything like that?”
He shook his head. “Dinah and I didn’t meet until about seven months ago. I know a lot about her, but certainly not everything. And if you were in any way connected with her work, I’d be even less likely to know about you.”
Bishop said quietly, “Were you connected with her work?”
“From what I gathered from news reports, she’s a journalist?”
“Right.”
“Then I don’t see how. According to the pay stubs I found in my apartment,” she said wryly, “I worked for the city. I called and spoke to my supervisor. Apparently, I was a small cog in a very big wheel. I did routine office work.”
“Which office?” Kane asked.
“Building Inspections and Zoning.” She grimaced. “About which I know nothing. Or at least nothing I remember. My job involved typing and filing.” She considered for a moment. “I think I know how to type.”
There was something forlorn in her voice, and Kane acted instinctively. He reached over and covered her tightly clasped hands with one of his own. “The doctor said your memory will eventually come back to you, Faith. You have to believe that.”
She looked down at his hand, her eyes wide; and Bishop, watching her, was reminded of a deer frozen in a car’s headlights, paralyzed and unable to save itself from certain death.
In a constricted voice, she said, “Something has been coming to me, but—not my memories. I thought they were at first, but now I see they weren’t mine at all.”
Kane released her hands and leaned back, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“They started when I was still in the hospital. Just dreams, but maybe memories too, I thought. Dreams like … like little vignettes, brief scenes of someone’s life.”
“Whose life?” Kane asked slowly.
She drew a breath. “Yours. And—and Dinah’s.”
Out of the coma .
Christ. From everything he’d been able to find out, that was the last thing he’d expected, that she’d wake up. Ever.
He paced for a few minutes, then went to the phone and called a familiar number. Barely waiting for the answer at the other end, he said, “Faith Parker is out of the hospital.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
There was a long silence, and then, “It doesn’t have to change anything. Even if she remembers what happened before the accident, the drug would’ve scrambled everything, left her confused at the very least—and possibly psychotic.”
“After so many weeks?”
“Look, don’t panic, all right?”
“Dammit, I told you we shouldn’t have stopped looking. I told you we needed to find it—”
“I said don’t panic. The first thing we have to do is find out if she’s even a threat.”
“And if she is?”
“Then we’ll take care of it.”
“You dreamed about us?”
Faith winced at the disbelief in Kane’s voice. “Oh, I know it sounds absurd. I’ve told myself that. But the dreams were too vivid, too real, to be something myown imagination conjured up. I think—” She swallowed hard. “The only answer I can think of is that somehow, in some way I can’t explain and don’t understand, I’ve … tapped in to Dinah’s memories.”
Coolly matter-of-fact, Bishop said, “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was psychic before the accident.” Her hands lifted and fell in a brief, helpless gesture. “Or maybe I am now because of the accident. I went to the library yesterday and looked up coma. According to what I read, a few people have come out of comas demonstrating unusual abilities—especially if there was a head injury involved.” She reached up and pushed her hair off her forehead, showing them a small square of adhesive bandage.
Kane remained silent, staring at her. It was Bishop who spoke.
“It’s easy enough to claim you’ve … dreamed something. How do we know you really have?”
She bit her lip again. “I don’t know how to convince you. What I dreamed were ordinary
He shook his head. “Dinah and I didn’t meet until about seven months ago. I know a lot about her, but certainly not everything. And if you were in any way connected with her work, I’d be even less likely to know about you.”
Bishop said quietly, “Were you connected with her work?”
“From what I gathered from news reports, she’s a journalist?”
“Right.”
“Then I don’t see how. According to the pay stubs I found in my apartment,” she said wryly, “I worked for the city. I called and spoke to my supervisor. Apparently, I was a small cog in a very big wheel. I did routine office work.”
“Which office?” Kane asked.
“Building Inspections and Zoning.” She grimaced. “About which I know nothing. Or at least nothing I remember. My job involved typing and filing.” She considered for a moment. “I think I know how to type.”
There was something forlorn in her voice, and Kane acted instinctively. He reached over and covered her tightly clasped hands with one of his own. “The doctor said your memory will eventually come back to you, Faith. You have to believe that.”
She looked down at his hand, her eyes wide; and Bishop, watching her, was reminded of a deer frozen in a car’s headlights, paralyzed and unable to save itself from certain death.
In a constricted voice, she said, “Something has been coming to me, but—not my memories. I thought they were at first, but now I see they weren’t mine at all.”
Kane released her hands and leaned back, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“They started when I was still in the hospital. Just dreams, but maybe memories too, I thought. Dreams like … like little vignettes, brief scenes of someone’s life.”
“Whose life?” Kane asked slowly.
She drew a breath. “Yours. And—and Dinah’s.”
Out of the coma .
Christ. From everything he’d been able to find out, that was the last thing he’d expected, that she’d wake up. Ever.
He paced for a few minutes, then went to the phone and called a familiar number. Barely waiting for the answer at the other end, he said, “Faith Parker is out of the hospital.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
There was a long silence, and then, “It doesn’t have to change anything. Even if she remembers what happened before the accident, the drug would’ve scrambled everything, left her confused at the very least—and possibly psychotic.”
“After so many weeks?”
“Look, don’t panic, all right?”
“Dammit, I told you we shouldn’t have stopped looking. I told you we needed to find it—”
“I said don’t panic. The first thing we have to do is find out if she’s even a threat.”
“And if she is?”
“Then we’ll take care of it.”
“You dreamed about us?”
Faith winced at the disbelief in Kane’s voice. “Oh, I know it sounds absurd. I’ve told myself that. But the dreams were too vivid, too real, to be something myown imagination conjured up. I think—” She swallowed hard. “The only answer I can think of is that somehow, in some way I can’t explain and don’t understand, I’ve … tapped in to Dinah’s memories.”
Coolly matter-of-fact, Bishop said, “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was psychic before the accident.” Her hands lifted and fell in a brief, helpless gesture. “Or maybe I am now because of the accident. I went to the library yesterday and looked up coma. According to what I read, a few people have come out of comas demonstrating unusual abilities—especially if there was a head injury involved.” She reached up and pushed her hair off her forehead, showing them a small square of adhesive bandage.
Kane remained silent, staring at her. It was Bishop who spoke.
“It’s easy enough to claim you’ve … dreamed something. How do we know you really have?”
She bit her lip again. “I don’t know how to convince you. What I dreamed were ordinary
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