Christmas Witness Pursuit

“I say we worry about that when the time comes,” Marci said.

“You’re right.” Tory drew in a deep breath while trying at the same time to shake the fear that had taken hold. “I’m safe for now, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your generosity. All three of you.”

“We’re happy to help,” Griffin said.

She forced herself to finish eating the rest of her stew—a family recipe that called for elk meat hunted on their land, she’d been told, passed down from Griffin’s great-grandmother. While she sure would have enjoyed the meal if circumstances had been different, at the moment it was tasteless.

Marci stood from the table as soon as everyone had finished and caught her son’s gaze. “Why don’t the two of you go relax in the other room while your father and I clean up? You both look exhausted. I have some cobbler with berries from our summer garden and vanilla ice cream, if you’re interested.”

Tory scooted her chair back from the table. “Let me at least help clean up first.”

Marci waved away her request. “You go relax. I insist. Besides, I have the world’s number-one dishwasher right here beside me.”

Jacob’s brow crinkled when he laughed. “How did I know that was coming?”

Tory looked to Griffin.

“It’s not worth arguing with them,” he said. “They always win.”

“While you’re at it,” his mother continued, “try not to think too hard about what you can’t remember. Doctor’s orders.”

Tory smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go on into the living room,” Griffin said. “I’ll bring you some of the dessert.”

She nodded, feeling spoiled but too tired to argue, and went to stand in front of the Christmas tree. She breathed in the scent of fresh pine from the lighted green tree that no doubt had come from the ranch. White lights flickered against multicolored glass ornaments. She’d hoped that sitting around the table with his family would jog her mind and bring up memories of Christmas dinners, birthday parties and anniversaries from her own past. She had to have experienced those things at some point growing up.

But whatever those memories were, they were still lost for the moment.

Two minutes later Griffin handed her a bowl of cobbler with ice cream and stood beside her at the tree. “You seem deep in thought. What are you thinking about?”

“The one thing I can’t forget.” She couldn’t help but shake her head at the irony as she took a spoon from him. For someone who’d lost most of her memories, there was one she couldn’t shake. “He’s out there, Griffin. And his escape ups the stakes. He’s going to come after me himself.”

“Maybe, but if I were him, I’d forget about any witnesses and simply flee the country.”

“Don’t you think that’s easier said than done?”

“Probably. But he’s got to have plenty of money and resources to set himself up on some island and live out the rest of his days sitting in the sun.”

Needing a distraction, she reached up and touched a glass snowman hanging on one of the branches. “I’m guessing you didn’t pick this tree up at a local farm.”

“No. Comes from right here. We always head out into the woods the day after Thanksgiving and find the perfect tree for my mom.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“Christmas is a pretty big deal around here, even now that we’re all grown up.”

“What do you do?” she asked.

He took a bite of his dessert. “Besides helping my mom with the decorations here, there’s the annual Christmas parade and concert in town, and volunteering for the Giving Tree at church that helps families in our community who are in need.”

“That all sounds fun.”

“It is my favorite time of the year.”

She followed him to the couch and sat next to him before sampling a bite of ice cream and berries. She knew she needed to relax, but her mind wouldn’t stop working on the what-ifs.

“I’m guessing you’re not really in the Christmas mood right now,” he added.

“Not really. I keep thinking about the file we read through. It said that Jinx normally lets his soldiers handle all his dirty work,” she told him. “It’s one reason why the man has never been caught. But it also said that this time was different. He shot that couple himself. That must mean their deaths were personal. And what he didn’t count on was having a witness.”

“What are you thinking?” Griffin asked.

“I’ve been going over and over in my head about what you said about my having information he wants.”

“And...”

“I still can’t remember anything, but my gut tells me you’re right.” She set her dessert on her lap, her appetite soured. “I just can’t pull up the information.”

“My mom was right. Try not to think about it. I have a feeling the more you try to bring those memories to the surface, the harder it’s going to be.”

“Maybe, but it’s the not knowing that makes me feel the most vulnerable. Like I’ve somehow stepped into a gunfight but I have nothing to defend myself. This is something I don’t know how to deal with. I can’t keep my brain from spinning.”

“There is something else to consider.”

She drew in a deep breath. “What’s that?”

“My mom told me it’s possible that memory loss can come from witnessing something traumatic. Like the car wreck and the agents being shot.”

Tory worked to process what he said as she tried digging into the cobbler, not liking the implications. “Meaning I’m too afraid to remember.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I guess I’d like to think I’m stronger than that. I work in the emergency room, which goes to reason that I’ve witnessed a lot of traumatic situations.”

Whether it was true or not, the thought made her feel as if she were weak. As if her mind couldn’t handle what she had seen and had literally shut down. As far as she was concerned, the lump on the back of her head sounded like a more realistic option. But either way, her memories still refused to surface.

Griffin shook his head. “This has nothing to do with how strong you are. That’s how God created your mind. A kind of protection when having to face something traumatic. Maybe things are different because, this time, the trauma was directed toward you.”

She took another bite of the tart berries with the sweet ice cream. Like, witnessing an agent shot dead in front of her. Was that enough to erase her memories? She might not know for sure, but there was one thing she was certain of. Not being able to do anything about it made her feel helpless.

“Your parents are sweet—and your mom is such a good cook,” she said. “I just hope they know how much I appreciate their taking me in.”

“They enjoy company and are known to spoil their boys every once in a while.”

“I’ll admit I don’t mind being spoiled a bit. And this is delicious.”

“I told you you’d feel safe here. I want you to feel safe here.”