Paradox (FBI Thriller 22)

They moved forward and held out their identification so she could see. She really liked what Chief Christie was wearing—black jeans, a tucked-in white shirt, a sharp black jacket. She had such cool hair, dark brown with curls down to her shoulders and the prettiest green eyes, a mossy green, maybe. She was taller than Leigh, fit as a marine, her godfather liked to say, which was a big compliment. Agent Porto was tall, hair and eyes as dark as an archangel’s, his cheekbones knife sharp, his face expressive. He was very good-looking indeed. She smiled, nodded. “It’s nice to meet you both. Are you here because of my accident?”

Lulie moved out of the way so Ty could stand close to Leigh. Ty took her hand and saw uncertainty in her eyes, but also awareness and complete focus on what Ty was about to say. Chief Masters had said when she’d awakened, she was different. Was this what he’d meant? She said, “Someone struck you on the head, Leigh. We’re here to find out who did. Can you remember hearing or seeing anything to help us find out who struck you?”

“Someone hit me on the head?” A sharp jab of pain made her close down for a moment. She raised her hand and felt the thick bandage. Slowly, never looking away from Ty, she shook her head.

Leigh didn’t look slow, she looked baffled, completely understandable after being knocked unconscious.

Leigh looked toward her mother. “Mom, I don’t understand. Someone hit me? Why? I’m Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, even you’ve called me that. Why would anyone hate me enough to smack me on the head?”

Sala took Chief Masters’s place. “Ms. Saks, I’m afraid someone did strike you, knocked you unconscious. You’ve had surgery, but you are not to worry. It all went well, and Chief Masters has assigned Officer Diaz to guard you. He’s right outside the cubicle.”

A small smile bloomed. “Romero? Guarding me? I remember he belted Keith Morton when he tried to kiss me. I really wanted Romero to kiss me when I was sixteen.” She paused, and a shadow of regret, of sadness, flitted over her face. “Then he grew up, and I didn’t.”

Ty squeezed her hand, couldn’t help it. She said, “Do you remember leaving the post office this morning?”

Leigh slowly shook her head, winced, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the hard pillow. “Where did you find me?”

Sala said, “Chief Masters found you behind the dumpster in the alley between the dry cleaners and a hardware store.”

“Lucky Hammer,” Chief Masters said as he lightly smoothed Leigh’s hair back from her forehead to cover some of the white bandage. “An FBI agent manning the Star of David belt buckle hotline called me, and I got to you really fast and brought you here to the hospital. You were in surgery for three hours. Dr. Ellis swears you’re going to be fine, no worries.”

Ty said, “Do you remember walking to the alley to make a phone call, Ms. Saks?”

Leigh slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s all a blank.”

“What is the last thing you do remember?” Sala asked her.

Her brow furrowed. “I remember speaking to Mrs. Chamberlain, but I don’t remember—wait, I had some question, I think, about Mr. Henry. But why would I? I mean, Mr. Henry’s been dead for a long time now, so why would I be asking Mrs. Chamberlain a question about him?” She gave a tiny shrug. “Whatever it was, I suppose I thought she’d know since she and Mr. Henry were sleeping together a long time before he was killed.”

Lulie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Gunny—Leigh—speaking about Mrs. Chamberlain and Mr. Henry’s affair? Not their being special friends, no, sleeping together, saying it like an adult would. She felt like the one who’d been smacked in the head. What was happening with her daughter?

Ty thought about showing Leigh a photo of the belt buckle on her cell phone to spark her memory, but instead, she said, “You were thinking about Mr. Henry because there was a press conference yesterday in Willicott. An FBI agent held up a belt buckle, a special one with a gold Star of David. It was found with a lot of human bones at the bottom of Lake Massey. Anyone who recognized it was asked to call the hotline, and you did, Leigh. In fact, you were the only one to call the hotline with any real information. You were knocked down before you could say much to the agent speaking with you. He thought something had happened to you on the telephone and called Chief Masters immediately, who found you in that alley. Then the agent called to alert us, and we got here as quickly as we could.”

Chief Masters closed his eyes against the enormity of what could have happened if not for that FBI agent who had cared and acted.

It was as if Leigh had read his mind. “If you hadn’t found me, I could have died, right? Thank you, Dan, for saving me.”

It was unnerving for him now to listen to this young woman he loved but had always believed to be special—yes, simple, unable to function in this big bad world without the kindness and protection of others. Where was that girl?

“You’re welcome,” he said. “The bottom line, sweetheart, is now you’ll be around to wipe drool off my chin in the misty future.”

Lulie laughed. “My chin as well. Are you in pain?”

“A little bit. My head, it feels like a block of concrete is perched right on top pressing down. Mom, in the misty future, you might have buttercream frosting on your chin, but never drool.”

A man’s voice came from the entrance to the cubicle. “What’s this about drool? Whosever it is, never mind.”

After introducing Ty and Sala and Leigh to her surgeon, Lulie said, “Dr. Ellis, I’m glad you’re here. I suppose the nurses called you because Gunny—Leigh—is awake? But she doesn’t remember anything about what happened.”

“That’s not uncommon, Ms. Saks. It’s almost expected after the kind of trauma she suffered. Post-traumatic amnesia often clears in a day or two.”

Lulie lowered her voice. “Dr. Ellis, I don’t know how to put this, but Leigh seems even more awake, more with us than usual. It’s as if she’s more aware than ever of everything around her.”

He nodded. “That’s good to hear, actually. Patients can seem hypervigilant sometimes soon after brain trauma, a sort of self-protective response, you might say. I would say it’s nothing to be concerned about. She’ll be herself again soon.”

Lulie didn’t give up. “What I mean to say, Dr. Ellis, is that for those of us who know Leigh very well—you’ve never met her, of course—she seems, well, very focused, different, in a good way, I guess, but none of us quite understand what it might mean. To be blunt, before she was knocked in the head, she was simple, but now she’s not.”

Dr. Ellis stared at her, then over at Chief Masters, who nodded. “That is perplexing, Ms. Saks. Tell you what. Why don’t you let Leigh and me talk about that together while I do my neurological exam? If you would all leave me alone with her now. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”