Forgotten Past. Mary Alford
never speaks. There’s always a song playing in the background.”
The chief was busily taking notes. “What song?”
“‘I’ll Be Seeing You.’ It’s always the same.”
“And he’s never spoken?” The disbelief on Will’s face made it hard for her to go on.
She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “That’s right.” She had seen that same expression on the Austin detectives’ faces whenever she’d first told them about the calls.
Faith still couldn’t believe everything that had happened since the call woke her and she’d reached out to JT for help.
Will stopped writing. “By the way, the breaker box around the side of the house was flipped off, which explains why the power was off. We’re dusting for prints, but I’m not holding out much hope. We ran the truck’s plates. It was stolen out of a junkyard in Portland two weeks earlier.”
Two weeks. Fear coiled into the pit of her stomach like a venomous snake. She couldn’t believe it. He’d been stalking her, planning this move all this time, and she’d had absolutely no idea he’d found her again until the call came in yesterday.
Will flipped his notebook closed. “I’m guessing he stashed another vehicle on the main road. That’s how he was able to get away so quickly. My men are combing the area for any evidence, but he’s obviously good at this. Who knows how long he’s been watching you.” He paused and she knew what was coming next. The moment of truth. She’d been expecting it. Dreading it. “But then, I have a feeling you’ve been here before. Haven’t you, Faith?”
She could feel the color drain from her face. She said a quick prayer and a sense of peace came over her. It was as if God was right beside her, telling her it was okay to let go. She didn’t have to do this on her own anymore. “Yes, I’ve been here before. Many times, in fact.”
Will held her gaze. “Who’s doing this to you?”
At times, she’d give anything to know the answer to the chief’s question, and at others, well, she wasn’t so sure she could survive the truth.
Every time she thought about the interview with the Austin police, she shuddered. They’d all but accused her of being part of the Jennings’ murders. They’d detained her at the station for hours until she’d finally asked for an attorney and then they’d let her go. She’d been terrified they would arrest her for the crime. Terrified they might be right.
“That’s just it. I don’t know who’s doing this.”
“I think you’d better explain,” Will said.
She nodded slowly. “Two years ago, when I lived in Austin, I was attacked and badly beaten. My throat was slit. I almost died and the worst part of it all is I don’t remember a single thing about the incident.”
Will appeared lost. She couldn’t blame him. If she hadn’t lived through the nightmare, she’d probably think she’d lost her mind.
“Believe me, I know how crazy this sounds, but it’s true. I don’t remember anything about what happened.”
“You mean you’ve blocked out the memories of the attack,” JT offered.
She shook her head. “I mean I can’t remember anything about it or my past. Nothing. Not a single thing.”
When her memory hadn’t returned after a few weeks, her doctors were at a loss for answers. They’d told her most victims of violent crimes who suffered temporary amnesia usually regained their memories in a matter of weeks and the amnesia certainly never encompassed other parts of their lives.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must be like.” The gentleness in JT’s tone brought a lump to her throat. “What did the police say? Did they have any suspects? An old boyfriend? An acquaintance? Someone you were having trouble with around that time?”
At first, the police had seemed genuinely baffled, but it didn’t take long before they started hinting at the possibility she was lying about not remembering because she might be mixed up in the murders. For them, it had been the only plausible explanation. And by the time she left Austin for good, they didn’t bother hiding the fact they believed she was responsible for her friends’ murders. One of the detectives had told her that the only thing keeping her out of jail was the lack of evidence he was sure they’d come up with eventually.
She shook her head. “Since I wasn’t able to remember the attack, there were no suspects.”
Will frowned at her answer. “So there’s never been anyone charged with the assault?”
“No.” On top of being terrorized by her stalker, she’d lived in constant fear the police might be right. Maybe she’d blocked out the memories because she was the real monster. But if that were true, then why was someone stalking her?
“How soon after the attack did the calls first begin?” Will asked.
“Not long, maybe about a week after I was released from the hospital.” She hated thinking about those awful days following the attack. Her fear consumed her. Every time she looked at her reflection in the mirror she saw the evidence of how close to death she’d come. She was so battered and bruised she could barely walk. She’d been so afraid she couldn’t leave the apartment for days after. She didn’t know if the person responsible for killing the Jenningses might be waiting for her to leave the apartment so he could finish the job.
She realized Will was analyzing her every reaction. “Tell me exactly how the calls started.”
It had all begun so innocently. “It started with just a few hang-ups. At first I thought maybe someone from my past didn’t recognize my voice.” Both men looked confused and she explained. “I’m an accountant so I had people call in from time to time to ask questions. One of my clients told me I didn’t sound like myself when he called. The injury damaged my vocal cords. My voice was...off. Huskier, I guess. Anyway, I assumed the calls were harmless until the music started and somehow I just knew it had to be him.”
“When you reported this to the police, what did they say?” JT asked.
It was hard for her to keep from showing her resentment. “They didn’t believe me. They pretty much accused me of making the whole thing up. I was terrified. I begged them to do something. They said their hands were tied until they actually caught the person committing an act of violence against me.”
“I don’t understand why they wouldn’t believe you. You almost died from a brutal attack. The person who hurt you was obviously still at large, so it would be a reasonable assumption to connect the calls to the attack.” Will narrowed his eyes at her. “What aren’t you telling us, Faith?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t tell them everything—it was just too ugly. “The police never believed my amnesia was real. They thought I might be using it as an excuse to keep from telling them what I knew about the attack.”
“In other words, they thought you knew more than what you were saying,” the chief concluded.
“Yes.”
“And do you?”
The room grew quiet. Tension slithered down her spine. For a little while, she’d actually believed this time might be different, but one look at the skepticism on Will’s face shattered her hopes. He thought she was lying. Would JT feel the same? How could she ever convince them she wasn’t guilty when even she had doubts.
Faith got to her feet and headed for the door. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in this. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
She made it to the hallway when JT caught up with her and reached for her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Don’t do that.”
She closed her eyes for a second then turned to face him. “Do what?” she asked wearily.
“Give