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Authors: Virginia Kantra
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lot of blanks.”
Maggie’s hands twitched in the paper drape across her lap. “I did not
know what to write.”
Donna pursed her lips. “Last name? Age? Address?”
Deliberately, Maggie loosed her grip on the drape and replaced the
cold pack on her head. “I don’t remember.”
Caleb stirred in his corner.
“Did you lose consciousness?” Donna asked Maggie.
Caleb answered for her. “Yes.”
“How long?”
Maggie hesitated.
“She was out when I arrived at the scene. Say, at least five minutes.”
63
“Was this injury intentionally caused by another person?
Maggie looked at Caleb.
“You’re safe now,” he said gently. “You don’t have to protect him.”
Her full lips pressed together. “I am not protecting anyone.
“So, intentional injury?” the doctor asked.
“I . . . think so.”
“Somebody was standing over her when I got there,” Caleb
volunteered. “He may have hit her with a stick. Plenty of firewood on the
beach.”
“Is that what happened?” Donna asked.
Maggie shrugged. The paper gown shifted on her shoulders.
“Do you remember arriving at the beach?” Caleb asked.
A slight hesitation. Victims were often unreliable witnesses, too
eager to please or afraid of reprisal. She could be unsure or in shock or
struggling with the language. She could be confused.
Or lying.
“Not really,” she said.
“Did you see anybody when you got there?” he persisted.
“I . . . no.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“The fire.”
“What else?”
She shook her head, in denial or frustration. “I don’t remember.
64
Donna’s gaze met his. “Trauma to the head,” she murmured. “It’s
possible.”
“Retrograde amnesia? Doesn’t that usually only affect recent
memory? Before and after the event?”
“Why don’t you let me finish my examination before you make a
diagnosis.” The doctor glanced at the clipboard on her lap. “Are you on
any medications? Prescriptions, over-the-counter drugs?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“What about birth control?”
“No,” Maggie said.
A memory exploded in Caleb’s brain.
“ You could still get pregnant ,” he had warned her.
“ No ,” she’d said, and taken him in her mouth.
“There are things I can give you,” Donna said. “If we determine
pregnancy is a possibility.”
He snapped back to the present.
“It’s not,” Maggie said.
The doctor cleared her throat. “We find in about five percent of rape
cases—”
“I was not raped.”
Caleb’s instincts went on point. “You said you didn’t remember.
“I do not need to remember,” she said firmly. “I would know.”
He wanted to believe her.
Reason enough, in his experience, to doubt. She was naked and
unconscious when he found her. Anything could have been done to her.
His stomach pitched. Anything.
65
She might not remember. Or she could be in denial.
“It’s easy enough to confirm,” he said.
A glint surfaced in those dark, deep eyes. “Easy for whom?”
He was silent.
Donna tapped her pen against the clipboard. “Just a few more
questions.”
Caleb kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze on Maggie’s face as
she answered the doctor’s questions in a low, clear voice that told them . .
. absolutely nothing.
She didn’t know.
She couldn’t remember.
She wouldn’t say.
“Date of last menstrual cycle?” Frustration tinged the doctor’s voice.
Caleb sympathized.
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you sexually active?”
A pause, while every muscle in his body tensed.
The doctor tried again. “Do you remember the last time you had
intercourse?”
She remembered . . . something. He saw it in her eyes.
“It’s all right,” he said in the even tone he used to soothe new
recruits. “No one is blaming or accusing you of anything. We just want to
find out what happened so we can take care of you.”
“The last time?” Donna
Maggie’s hands twitched in the paper drape across her lap. “I did not
know what to write.”
Donna pursed her lips. “Last name? Age? Address?”
Deliberately, Maggie loosed her grip on the drape and replaced the
cold pack on her head. “I don’t remember.”
Caleb stirred in his corner.
“Did you lose consciousness?” Donna asked Maggie.
Caleb answered for her. “Yes.”
“How long?”
Maggie hesitated.
“She was out when I arrived at the scene. Say, at least five minutes.”
63
“Was this injury intentionally caused by another person?
Maggie looked at Caleb.
“You’re safe now,” he said gently. “You don’t have to protect him.”
Her full lips pressed together. “I am not protecting anyone.
“So, intentional injury?” the doctor asked.
“I . . . think so.”
“Somebody was standing over her when I got there,” Caleb
volunteered. “He may have hit her with a stick. Plenty of firewood on the
beach.”
“Is that what happened?” Donna asked.
Maggie shrugged. The paper gown shifted on her shoulders.
“Do you remember arriving at the beach?” Caleb asked.
A slight hesitation. Victims were often unreliable witnesses, too
eager to please or afraid of reprisal. She could be unsure or in shock or
struggling with the language. She could be confused.
Or lying.
“Not really,” she said.
“Did you see anybody when you got there?” he persisted.
“I . . . no.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“The fire.”
“What else?”
She shook her head, in denial or frustration. “I don’t remember.
64
Donna’s gaze met his. “Trauma to the head,” she murmured. “It’s
possible.”
“Retrograde amnesia? Doesn’t that usually only affect recent
memory? Before and after the event?”
“Why don’t you let me finish my examination before you make a
diagnosis.” The doctor glanced at the clipboard on her lap. “Are you on
any medications? Prescriptions, over-the-counter drugs?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“What about birth control?”
“No,” Maggie said.
A memory exploded in Caleb’s brain.
“ You could still get pregnant ,” he had warned her.
“ No ,” she’d said, and taken him in her mouth.
“There are things I can give you,” Donna said. “If we determine
pregnancy is a possibility.”
He snapped back to the present.
“It’s not,” Maggie said.
The doctor cleared her throat. “We find in about five percent of rape
cases—”
“I was not raped.”
Caleb’s instincts went on point. “You said you didn’t remember.
“I do not need to remember,” she said firmly. “I would know.”
He wanted to believe her.
Reason enough, in his experience, to doubt. She was naked and
unconscious when he found her. Anything could have been done to her.
His stomach pitched. Anything.
65
She might not remember. Or she could be in denial.
“It’s easy enough to confirm,” he said.
A glint surfaced in those dark, deep eyes. “Easy for whom?”
He was silent.
Donna tapped her pen against the clipboard. “Just a few more
questions.”
Caleb kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze on Maggie’s face as
she answered the doctor’s questions in a low, clear voice that told them . .
. absolutely nothing.
She didn’t know.
She couldn’t remember.
She wouldn’t say.
“Date of last menstrual cycle?” Frustration tinged the doctor’s voice.
Caleb sympathized.
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you sexually active?”
A pause, while every muscle in his body tensed.
The doctor tried again. “Do you remember the last time you had
intercourse?”
She remembered . . . something. He saw it in her eyes.
“It’s all right,” he said in the even tone he used to soothe new
recruits. “No one is blaming or accusing you of anything. We just want to
find out what happened so we can take care of you.”
“The last time?” Donna
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