"So it must be connected somehow with my past, with what happened inSeattle," she said finally, forcing her mind back. "That must be why Iwas so determined that they wouldn"t get away with it again. We werelooking for evidence, and I had found something, something small enoughto hide in my purse-and I didn"t tell Dinah about it, at least notthen."
"And you have no idea what that evidence was?"
Faith shook her head. "It was ... it was almost as if I were watching amovie. Just looking on and listening in while we-talked. I don"t knowwhat she was thinking, what I was thinking. All I know is that I hadfound something, and for some reason I didn"t want her to know I"d foundit, at least not until I could ... "Could what?"
She groped for the elusive knowledgee, and finally sighed in defeat. "Idon"t know. I just don"t know. I"m sorry."
"Think carefully, Faith. Was there anything at all that could help usfigure out where Dinah is?"
Unwillingly, she thought of that cold, damp place with its concretefloors and shadowy walls, thought of the two men interrogating Dinah,one unemotionally efficient in dealing out agony and the other urgentlyinsistent on getting information from her before she died.
She"s dying. I know that. How can I tell him?
And like a distant answering whisper in her mind came the words, Youcan"t tell him.
"Faith?" Steadily, she said, "I don"t think so. There was somethingvaguely familiar about the hallway of that building where I was lookingfor evidence, but I have no idea what or where it is. In fact, I have noreal sense of where either of those two memories took place."
"Do you think you"d recognize either place if you saw it again?"
"That hallway, yes. The other ... I don"t know.
But the hallway, that would seem more important. If I was looking forevidence there-and if I found something-then it has to help us findDinah.
Doesn"t it?"
"I wish I knew."
"We can look for it. Begin with places that seem likely-the buildingwhere I worked, others in the area. It"s a start, isn"t it?"
"Yes. Of course it Is.
She gazed at his face, feeling a strong pang of loneliness. He wasentirely focused on Dinah, thinking of nothing except possible ways offinding her. It reminded Faith yet again of how unconnected she was, toanything or anyone.
"I wish I could be more help," she said. "I"m sorry." Kane looked ather. "You are helping, Faith.
You"ve given me more pieces of the puzzle than I"ve been able to find inall the weeks since Dinah disappeared."
"But we still don"t know what the puzzle is supposed to look like."
"We"ll figure it out," Kane said.
Faith hoped he was right. But all she could do at the moment was wonderwretchedly if it was all her fault that Dinah was dying.
And wonder what Kane would do when he found out.
"There"s really nothing more I can tell you, Miss. Parker." Dr. Murphyclosed the folder and gazed across her desk. "Your visits here duringthe time you"ve been my patient have all been unexceptional, regularcheckups or very minor complaints. I continued the prescription forcontraceptives you"d been using before you came to Atlanta, but the onlyother medication I prescribed was a course of antibiotics for a mildinfection."
Faith wasn"t sure how to phrase the questions she wanted to ask.
Finally, she chose bluntness.
"So I was s.e.xually active?"
The doctor"s brows rose slightly, and a flicker of sympathy showed inher eyes. "You don"t even remember that?"
-I don"t remember anything before waking up in the hospital."
"That"s ... quite unusual. Amnesia tends to center around the traumaticincident. The patient seldom recalls the events just before the traumaoccurred. But in virtually every case I know of, the missing time isonly a matter of hours or days."
"In my case, years are missing. A lifetime, in fact."
Faith managed a smile. "And I"m trying desperately to collect the piecesof my life and put them back together. So anything you can tell me,Doctor ..."
Dr. Murphy laced her fingers together atop the file on her blotter andgazed at Faith steadily. "I see. I hadn"t realized your amnesia was soextensive. That would, however, explain the changes I see in you."
"Changes?"
"In your manner and bearing, your eyes. You said you visited Haven Houseyesterday. They told you there was abuse in your background?"
"Yes. Though Karen didn"t know any details. I gather my ex-husband was... physically abusive?"
"Physically and emotionally. You told me you had warned this man to stayaway from you, and that you had some confidence that he would becauseyou had medical evidence of past injuries that could end his career andput him behind bars."
"Is he the reason I came to Atlanta? Did I want to get three thousandmiles away from him?"
"I couldn"t say, Miss. Parker. You never said as much to me. And Ihonestly don"t know if you were afraid he"d follow you here. I referredyou to Haven House because you displayed many of the aftereffects ofabuse. You had tension headaches and a low resistance to infection, apoor appet.i.te. Your sleep was disturbed more often than not, and you were reluctant to make friends or form emotional attachments.
I thought it would be healthier for you to spend time with other womenwho had suffered abuse, especially since you had done so the last fewmonths you"d lived in Seattle."
-And did it appear to you that Haven House and the women there helpedme?" Faith had no idea- where her dispa.s.sionate voice was coming from;all she knew was that they were discussing what seemed to be the life ofa stranger.
"I believe so. I saw steady "improvement."
"And yet you say that I"m more different now?"
"Yes. There"s a certain look many abuse victims share, a certain tensionin their bearing and actions.
That was evident the last time I saw you. It isn"t today. If I didn"tknow, I would never guess you"d been abused."
Questions about that abusive ex-husband rose in her mind, but Faith wasall too aware that the doctor could not answer them.
"I wish there was more I could tell you," Dr. Murphy said with obvioussympathy. "But you were reluctant even to confide in me as much as youdid, and probably wouldn"t have except that you said your doctor back inSeattle had urged you to make me aware of the history of abuse formedical reasons."
"Medical reasons?"
"The effects of abuse can last for years, Miss. Parker, both physicallyand emotionally, and it"s always wise to make your doctor aware of theback- ground in such cases. You had no lingering problems from physicalinjuries, but knowing your history would make me more apt to SpotComplications in the future."
Faith decided not to ask what those complications might be. Instead, shesaid, "I see. Thank you, Doctor. For the information, and for takingtime out of a busy morning to talk to me."
"You are my patient, Miss. Parker." For the first time, Dr. Murphysmiled. "I only wish there was more I could tell you."
"You"ve ... told me a lot," Faith said.
"You were a long time," Kane said when she got into his car outside theclinic. "Did you have to wait for the doctor?"
"No, she saw me right away."
"So? Did she prescribe muscle relaxants?"
Faith shook her head. "No."
Kane had his hand on the gearshift, but paused before putting the carinto motion and gazed at her questioningly. "What else did she tellyou?"
Impossible to keep the information to herself, no matter how much shewanted to; for all Faith knew, that violent ex-husband might lie behindall the violent things that had happened. So she told Kane, staringthrough the windshield all the while because she couldn"t meet his eyes.
"That gives us another possibility, I suppose," she finished, her voicevery steady. "It doesn"t seem to fit with what I"ve been remembering,but it"s conceivable that he"s somehow involved. But the doctor didn"t know his name, and I can"t remember it. Easy enough to find out, Isuppose."
"Faith." Kane put a hand on her shoulder and turned her until she lookedat him. "I"m sorry."
She wondered if the return of her memory would mean she"d be unable tobear a man"s hands on her. It seemed an al" n possibility at the moment.
"There"s no reason to be sorry, not about this. I don"t remember himhurting me, I"ve told you that. I don"t remember anything about him."She thought she sounded indifferent, and she even managed to smile, butapparently something betrayed the misery she felt, because Kane"sfingers tightened on her shoulder.
"I"m sorry there"s been so much pain in your life. If I could doanything to ."
"To make it better?" This time, her smile felt more natural. "You can"t.
But my amnesia might turn out to be a blessing when all"s said and done.
I don"t remember the pain or the grief. Honestly, it"s like it allhappened to somebody else. But at least the facts are coming together.
With a little luck, if I finally do remember, at least I"ll beprepared."
Kane nodded. "Still, it"s a h.e.l.l of a way to find out about yourself andyour past."
"I don"t seem to have a choice." She fought a sudden and almost overpowe- ringurge to throw herself into his arms and cling with all herstrength. Afraid that showed as well, she went on hastily. "So we add myex to the list of things we need to investigate further. And go on.Where to now?"
He didn"t answer immediately; his eyes searched her face as thoughlooking for something, but in the end he didn"t voice whatever it wasthat disturbed him. He released her and put the car into gear.
"The emergency room where you were first brought after the crash."
That made sense; he was still looking for some- thing to connect heraccident with what had happened to Dinah weeks afterward.
"You said Dinah visited me the day she disappeared?"
"She did. And since the police traced her movements of that day verycarefully, we know she spent in little more than half an hour with youin the morning."
"And then?"
"She went to her office and was in and out several times until earlyafternoon. Doing routine things, according to her editor. Sometimebetween noon and one P M., she left her office-and hasn"t been seensince. Except by her captors, of course."
Faith didn"t want to think about Dinah"s captors, about what was takingplace in that cellar. She was agonizingly aware of the minutes tickingaway. Of Dinah"s life energy fading away.
There"s so little time left ... Her realization? Or D"Mah"s?
She forced herself to think. "Between noon and one. But it was nightwhen that dog attacked her, I"m sure of it. So if what I saw actuallytook place, and took place that day, where was Dinah during the hoursbefore dark?"
"So far, n.o.body"s come forward to admit having been with her. She walkedout of her office building and might as well have been swallowed up by ablack hole."
Faith thought of that hallway in her dream, and of the shadowy, lonelyparking garage. Had that been Dinah"s office building? "Can we go byDinah"s office later?"
"Of course." He shot her a quick glance. "But why?"
"Hallways. I"m looking for one I can recognize from my dream. Itprobably wasn"t in Dinah"s office building-why would I have beencreeping around a place she had to have been far more familiar with?
but it"s something else to check, just to be sure."
"We also need to go to the building where you worked. Talk to yoursupervisor again, co-workers."
"Yes."
Kane patted the inner pocket of his jacket, where he carried his cellphone-a restless gesture he had repeated several times that morning.
"With a little luck Noah will call later today to tell us what he foundout about that restricted file."
More appalling and mystifying facts about her past) Faith tried not toshiver. Despite her brave words to Kane, she wasn"t sure she could takemany more such revelations.
Not many at all.
Faith pretty much stayed out of the way admiring the way Kane pursuedthe answers he to wanted. He appeared to have a knack for getting peopleto talk to him despite the rules and issues of legalit.i.ty, and as shewatched him patiently work his way through the tangle of red tape, shecould only admire both his persistence and his self-control.
It had to be h.e.l.l for him, this endless, tedious piecing together of onetiny fact or bit of information after another, and yet he had been at itnow for weeks. The strain of the search showed in his face and haunted his eyes, but despite the exhaustion he had to feel, he showed no signof willingness to slow down or give up. He was utterly determined tofind his Dinah.
I can"t tell him. I can"t tell him she"s dying.
He wouldn"t believe her anyway, that"s what she told herself.
Wouldn"t believe such a horrible truth unless or until the proof wasundeniable.
Like a body.
Faith shivered and crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, rubbing her handsup and down "in an effort to find warmth. Or comfort. But there waslittle of either in the cold desolation of her thoughts. Dinah wasdying, and Faith was desperately afraid they wouldn"t be able to findher in time.
"Excuse me-are you a She "jumped when a hand touched her arm,then gazed up at a harried young doctor. "No. No, I"m not."
He frowned at her, mild blue eyes puzzled behind the lenses of hisgla.s.ses. "You look familiar."
Faith got a grip on herself. "A few weeks ago, I was a patient here.