Running on Empty

“He was following her—” Marco paused as he stuck in a different tape “—and she was following you.”

Mitch leaned forward, watching himself enter the store, then Ms. Doe only minutes behind him. So it wasn’t a coincidence. But what had she wanted from him? What connection could he have to a woman he’d never seen?

“A couple of times she looked like she might approach you, then backed off at the last minute. When you went by the greeting cards, she broke off and went by the toys.”

Hell of a detective he was. He hadn’t even known he was being followed. He’d been so blasted tired at the time, he could think of nothing but getting home and climbing into bed.

“Kinda weird you ended up on the same aisle as her,” Marco said. It wasn’t a blatant accusation, but Mitch didn’t miss the implication.

“I was looking for a present for Jessica, Darren’s little girl. Her fourth birthday party is next weekend.”

“Party’s been postponed,” someone said from behind him. Mitch turned to see Darren Waite, his best friend and fellow detective, leaning casually in the doorway nursing a diet soda. “Heard you caught a case last night.”

“She was bashed in the back of the head with a piece by an unknown assailant. And not only can she not ID her attacker, she can’t ID herself. She has amnesia.”

Darren gestured down the hall. “Was that her in the squad room looking at mugs?”

“Yeah, I’m hoping something might trigger a memory. After I’m finished here, I’m taking her back to the scene.”

“I thought this was your weekend off.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “so did I.”

“So pass this off to someone else.”

“She was following me. She had my name in her pocket. I’m involved somehow and I need to know why.”

Darren didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His wary expression said it all.

To circumvent the inevitable lecture he knew was coming, Mitch asked, “So why has the party been postponed?”

“My mother-in-law had a mild heart attack last night. Diane took the girls and flew to Seattle to help out, until she’s back on her feet.”

“Man, I’m sorry. How long will she be gone?”

“A week or two. Maybe less.” Darren downed the last of the soda and tossed the plastic bottle into the trash. “I taped the Tigers game. If you’re not busy later, why don’t you come by?”

“Honestly, this case is probably going to keep me tied up most of the weekend.” Mitch glanced at his watch. It was already close to 11:00 a.m. He had to get back to the store and pick up that stuff for Lisa and his mom, before Lisa had a cow.

“I thought when the rape case broke you were going to take some time off,” Darren said.

“I was.” Mitch turned to Marco. “Could you print me out a few stills of the suspect?”

“Sure thing.” Marco keyed a few commands into the computer and the printer spit out two grainy shots.

Odds were, she wouldn’t be able to ID her attacker. But it didn’t hurt to maybe show the pictures around, see if anything turned up. The guy could have been anywhere from his early twenties to late forties, was medium height and build, wore grungy clothing. He could be one of ten thousand different men.

“Why don’t you pass this case off to Michaels or Petroski?” Darren asked, following Mitch to the squad room. “You haven’t had a day off in weeks.”

Mitch stopped in the doorway. Ms. Doe was sitting just where he’d left her, a pile of mug books on one side of the desk, a box of doughnuts on the other. The clothes they’d given her at the hospital were acceptable considering they were free, but far from flattering. The shirt was several sizes too big and the threadbare jeans would be down around her ankles if she hadn’t taken the tie from her jacket hood and knotted it through the belt loops. Still, there was something about her….

She chose that moment to look up and flash him a thousand-watt smile. After everything she’d been through, she was in surprisingly good spirits. He couldn’t deny that he was drawn to her. What man wouldn’t be? He also couldn’t escape the feeling that she was hiding something.

“She’s a doll,” Darren said.

Mitch shrugged. “I guess.”

“Aw, hell.” Darren glanced from Ms. Doe, whose nose was once again buried in the mug book, to Mitch. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that.”

Darren wasn’t buying it. On more than one occasion in the past ten years he’d claimed to know Mitch better than Mitch knew himself. And who knows, maybe he did. They’d gone through the academy together, rode shotgun for two years in uniform, and made detective within a few months of each other. Mitch had been the best man at Darren’s wedding, paced anxiously in the waiting room during the birth of his two daughters, Jessica and Lauren, and spent more Sundays than he could remember watching football in the Waites’ living room.

In turn, Darren had set him up with just about every one of his wife Diane’s single friends. He’d held vigil with him those last few days when Mitch’s father had lost his battle with stomach cancer. He was the brother Mitch never had.

“It’s not like that,” Darren mimicked. “That’s what you said before the Kim incident.”

Mitch did his best not to shudder at the memory. That isolated lapse in judgment would haunt him the rest of his damn life. “This is different. I don’t even know who she is. We have reason to believe she’s married and has kids. You know I would never get involved with a married woman.”

Again. The word hung between them unspoken, but there all the same.

“I’m telling you, don’t get yourself mixed up with this one. She’s got trouble written all over her. She could be anyone. That guy who attacked her could be her pimp, or her bookie. She could be dealing drugs.”

The suspect had seemed anxious to find something. Mitch tried to imagine Ms. Doe pushing drugs, or selling her body on a street corner. She looked more like a kindergarten teacher than a criminal.

“She could be faking the amnesia,” Darren said. “Jerking you around.”

“Yeah, I considered that. Every now and then she’ll say something and, I don’t know, it makes me wonder if she’s not just making it up. But then there are times when she seems genuinely scared and confused. You should have seen her expression when she looked in the mirror. Not to mention that she puked on me when she realized she didn’t know her own name.”

In his pocket, his pager vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at the display. “It’s Lisa. She’s already paged me five times this morning. She probably left fifty messages on my voice mail.”

“How’s your mom doing? She and Lisa kill each other yet?”

“Not yet. Of course, I haven’t talked to her today.”

“Well, I’m outta here. I figure I’ll get some stuff done around the house while Diane is gone.” He laid a hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “Watch yourself with Jane Doe. I have a bad feeling about this one.”

So did Mitch. But not bad enough to scare him off the case. He needed to know what possible connection they could have to each other. “As soon as we revisit the crime scene, I’m going to get her settled in a halfway house.”

“Using the one on Lexington?” Darren asked, and Mitch nodded. “That place isn’t so bad. Besides, someone will probably report her missing when she doesn’t show up for work Monday, right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” But deep down, something told him he wouldn’t be getting off that easily.

Undetected, he watched as she thumbed through the pages of the mug book. She was wasting her time. She wouldn’t find him in there. He was a master of the game, beyond detection or retribution. Minutes ago, she’d looked right at him, made eye contact even, and there wasn’t the slightest reaction.

After leaving the store, he’d searched her house for hours last night, tearing through one room after another. He’d found nothing to tell him where she kept them. She was smart for a woman.

But not smart enough.