“Yeah. I sat down at a computer and just started searching. There was a definite sense of familiarity about sitting at a keyboard. I’m sure I’ve logged some computer time—I just don’t know why.”
“So that whole cock-and-bull story about being a drifter in search of work—”
He shrugged. “It sounded believable at the time.”
She groaned and covered her eyes for a moment with her hands. “Oh, my God. You made up the story about the two muggers who robbed you and beat you up.”
“It seemed to fit the way I was found. No watch or wallet or ID.”
She groaned again.
“Okay, it wasn’t one of my brighter decisions,” he conceded with a sigh. “I guess I have to blame the concussion for that, too. By the time my mind cleared enough for me to realize how stupid and irresponsible I’d been, it seemed too late to get out of it.”
“Dan’s going to kill you. And then he’ll lock up what’s left.”
He couldn’t pretend to be surprised by the pessimistic prediction. It very closely resembled his own. Next time Dan took him fishing, he would likely use Sam for bait.
“We have to tell him, of course.”
He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I guess you’re right.”
“There’s no ‘guess’ to it. We have to tell him. Sam, don’t you understand? Someone tried to kill you three weeks ago. It could have been the same person who tried to run you down today. We’re not talking about a random mugging now. Your life might still be in danger.”
He’d spent too many sleepless nights trying to figure out who might have beaten him to within an inch of his life, and why. He still didn’t have a clue. As for what had happened today—well, he’d like to write it off as an accident, but a niggle of doubt remained at the back of his mind. He would sure like to know if the driver had borne any resemblance to the buttoned-down stranger he’d spotted at the Independe
nce Day celebration.
“I’ll talk to Dan tomorrow,” he promised.
“Tonight would be better.”
He shook his head. “It can wait until office hours.”
“And in the meantime? What if someone comes after you tonight?”
“Now you’re letting your imagination run away with you,” he chided. “I’ll talk to Dan first thing in the morning, okay? Not that there’s much he can do at this point.”
“He can send out your description and fingerprints. Contact the media, perhaps.”
Sam grimaced at the thought of his photograph in newspapers over a headline identifying him as a clueless victim.
“You’ll also need to see Dr. Frank tomorrow,” Serena continued. “He’ll want you to see a specialist. He’s a general practitioner, not a neurologist. He’ll probably send you to Little Rock. I doubt that our little hospital has the equipment or the expertise to treat a case like this.”
“‘A case like this?’” he repeated in a carefully neutral tone.
“Total amnesia,” she clarified. “It has to be quite rare. Dr. Frank’s probably never seen a case that—”
“I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop referring to me as a case,” he said irritably.
Serena bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Forget it.” He stood, ignoring a twinge of pain from his stiffening knee. “I’m the one who owes the apology. To you and your mother. You both deserved the truth from me, and all I did was take advantage of your kindness. I’ll clear out tomorrow—and wherever I end up, I’ll make sure you’re repaid as soon as possible.”
Serena rolled her eyes. “Would you stop being a stiff-necked idiot? You aren’t clearing out until we know you have someplace to go. And you haven’t taken advantage of us. You’ve more than earned your pay at the diner and you’ve got the house and lawn looking better than they have since Dad died.”
She didn’t sound furious, he thought with a touch of surprise. Exasperated, maybe. Bewildered by his actions, certainly. But not as angry as he’d expected.
Maybe she just hadn’t had enough time to really think about what he’d done.