Recovered Secrets. Jessica R. Patch

Recovered Secrets - Jessica R. Patch


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one was going to touch her. To keep his civility—even though this guy deserved a beating—Hollis exited the shed and chased after Grace. Then they’d figure out what to do with this guy. He wasn’t going anywhere, considering Grace’s skill with knots.

      She stood by the water’s edge at the creek, her arms folded as she rubbed her upper arms. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was terrified and fighting for my life and then it’s like everything went dark. A switch flipped and before I realized it, I had him tied to a chair. I have no idea what I would have done had you not shown up.” She faced him, tears in her eyes. “I think I’m a really bad person who’s done unspeakable things.”

      Hollis closed the distance between them in three strides, pulling her to him in an embrace. “Grace, you don’t know anything for sure and no matter what you did in the past, that’s not who you are now. You’re that new creation, remember? In Christ. I see the way you care about people and are kind. Whatever happened back there...that isn’t who you are.” But when her memories surfaced, she might want more than this simple small-town life regardless of who she’d been. She might have loved ones—a romantic loved one—who had been searching for her.

      “I know who I feel like most days, but lately... I’m scared, Hollis. For my life. For what my past holds. I’m afraid for you. You didn’t ask to be thrown into this. Your life is in danger by being associated with me. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

      Warmth flooded him. Grace cared about him and his safety. That concern... He couldn’t even remember the last time someone cared for him so tenderly. Not since Mom died. Tish—she was like a mom, but it wasn’t the same. Grace... He couldn’t go there. “You’re a good friend, Grace. And friends help one another.”

      She pulled away and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her long-sleeve T-shirt. “Yeah. Friends.” She sniffed and pointed toward the shed. “What do we do with him? He isn’t going to talk.”

      “He would. Eventually. If we did what it would take. But I’m not going to. And neither are you. Let’s call Sheriff Freeman and he can decide.” Cord would be more curious about how a woman who was five foot six and didn’t come close to Crewcut’s weight class had subdued the hefty dude. Hollis was frightened of her capabilities, and thoroughly impressed.

      They entered the shed. Crewcut was gone. Somehow he’d gotten out of the ropes. Hollis’s pulse pounded. “Get inside.” They had no idea where he was or if he had weapons stashed nearby. Hollis pulled his weapon from his ankle holster and covering Grace, they sprinted inside the training facility. Grace paced Hollis’s office.

      “Do you think he’s the guy who shot Peter? Who shot at us at the river?” She gnawed her thumbnail. She was an absolute mess.

      “Maybe. I can’t say for sure. But he didn’t bat an eye when I called you Mad Max.” Hollis told her his conversation. “Which means he has some connection with Peter. I don’t believe he’s ever had personal contact with you before now. I wish I knew how the pieces fit.” He’d give it another try. Hope she’d open up to him. Hollis couldn’t blame her if she wanted to keep some of her memories private, but... “Grace, would you tell me about the memory you had when you dropped the coffee pot? It could be relevant.”

      She halted pacing and faced away from him. “I was with Peter. I think we may have been at a special event. He...he kissed me, and I was wearing an engagement ring.”

      Hollis’s gut twisted. Grace and Peter more than likely had been a couple. Possibly engaged or married. All this time he’d been afraid she belonged to someone. Looked like to Peter. And she’d witnessed his murder. When her memories returned there would be grief even if Peter had betrayed her. “Do you know where you were in the memory?”

      She refused to face him. Hollis slowly rounded his desk and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Grace, you are beautiful and bright. You were bound to have been in a relationship. I’m sorry you can’t remember it, and I’m sorry you had to see him like that.”

      She finally turned. “You always know what to say. Always kind and thinking of others first. I wish I were that person.”

      He cradled her cheeks. “You are.”

      “I don’t know, Hollis. What if I become that awful person again? What if I want to when—if—my memory comes back?” She covered her eyes with the heel of her hands. “What if I can’t deal with everything I’ve done?”

      He held her close and kissed the top of her head. “You can choose who you want to be. And we don’t know that you were a bad person. You could be a US Marshal. A soldier. A former soldier.”

      “Or I could be an assassin.”

      There was also that. But Hollis didn’t want to go down that road or what it would mean when she had total recall. Because that would make her a criminal. A murderer.

      And that would mean she’d have to go to prison.

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