Forgotten Pieces

“And you’re still having trouble with recall?”

Maggie nodded. It hurt.

“I’m also having trouble understanding why my head hurts in the first place.” Maggie lowered her voice, trying to convey something she often tried to hide. Vulnerability. “Because no one, and I mean no one, has told me what happened to me since I woke up in an ambulance with my shirt and bra cut open and monitors stuck to my chest. So, please—” Maggie glanced down at the woman’s name tag “—Nurse Bean, give me something.”

For a moment the nurse looked like she was going to shake her head and try to offer another polite smile. Instead, she surprised Maggie by answering.

“To be honest, I just started my shift so I don’t know all of the details. What I do know is that you being knocked out wasn’t an accident.” Her lips thinned. “But as for who did it, why and where... I’m sorry. Those are questions I can’t answer.”

Maggie’s stomach turned cold. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised that she had been attacked since it wasn’t every day she lost hours of memory, but having a nurse say it aloud was on the surreal side of uncomfortable.

“Well, I guess I’m glad to know I didn’t wind up this way after tripping and bumping my head or anything,” Maggie deadpanned. Sarcasm was her safety blanket. The throbbing from her head now made a fraction of sense. That in itself should have been comforting. But it wasn’t. “Thank you for leveling with me,” she added on. “I don’t want to say I’m scared but, well, it’s not a good feeling to be me right now. Thanks.”

The nurse gave a quick nod and smile of acceptance.

“Like you, I prefer to go by my first name. So call me Kortnie.” She took the chart and started to turn away. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you.”

Maggie was ready to let her go and wait for someone who did know the inside scoop but then the cold steel of the handcuffs against her skin brought her attention to one more question.

“You have to at least know why I’m handcuffed, right?”

Kortnie’s smile faltered.

“That’s a question you should ask Detective Walker.”

* * *

“IS HE GOING to make it?”

Matt roused from the large square tile he’d been standing on for what felt like hours. It was outside Dwayne’s room and was better than standing and staring inside it. Matt didn’t like hospitals. Or, really, he didn’t like the helplessness that came with them. He couldn’t help Dwayne in his current condition. He couldn’t make him heal any faster. He couldn’t make him survive. All he could do was help from where he hovered and tried to puzzle out what had happened the night before. Not that he’d had much success in that department.

The sheriff repeated his question with an added inflection of empathy. He wasn’t as close to the retired detective as Matt but he knew him well enough to grab the occasional drink or watch a football game or two together.

“He’s out of the immediate woods but his injuries are extensive,” Matt answered, dragging a hand down his face. “He still hasn’t woken up and, if I read the doc’s body language correctly, there’s a good chance he might not. Or, if he does, he might not be the same Dwayne we knew. There was some bleeding on the brain.” Billy cursed beneath his breath. Matt let him finish before he continued, “So unless the crime scene yielded some incredible results, our only way of knowing what happened might be down there. And, like I told you on the phone last night, according to her doctor she’s having short-term memory issues.”

He pointed in the direction of Maggie Carson’s room. She’d been transferred out of the ER a few hours ago.

The sheriff followed his finger.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Billy asked.

Matt shook his head. Frustration, anger and more frustration sprang up at just the thought of the woman.

“When we first came in I stuck with Dwayne,” he admitted. “By the time he was stable and put in his room, she was getting CAT scans. Then she was out, thanks to some pain meds. I was going to wait until the morning to talk to her.” Matt really took in the sheriff’s appearance. He couldn’t help but smirk. “And considering there’s applesauce on your blazer, I’m assuming it’s morning.”

Billy looked down at the smudge and sighed but in no way seemed angry.

“What can I say? Alexa and I have a routine. She wakes up early and we negotiate how much applesauce she’s going to eat.” He motioned to the stain. “It’s a messy business. I’ve dealt with seasoned criminals that were easier to crack than this toddler.”

There was pride clear and true in the way Billy spoke of his daughter. It matched his unconditional love for his wife, Mara. Which was one of the reasons so many residents of Riker County took a shine to him. He was a good family man who worked hard to provide and protect. He was the straightest shooter Matt had ever known in law enforcement. Something that had not always been the case for everyone he had employed.

Matt watched as Billy sobered.

“I would tell you that going home to get some sleep might be the best course for you and that I can handle talking to Maggie,” he started. “But—”

“It’s Dwayne that got hurt and I won’t back off yet.”

Billy nodded.

“Then let’s go talk to Maggie.”

They marched down the hallway and knocked on the door. Matt spied the clock on the wall. Hours had indeed passed. It was almost seven in the morning.

“Come in!”

Matt took his attempt at a calming breath and followed the sheriff inside.

If he thought they’d be met with guilt or shame, he was wildly mistaken.

One look at him, and Maggie’s big green eyes got bigger. Her lips didn’t have time to purse. They were too busy parting to yell at him.

“I know you have your issues with me, but this is ridiculous, don’t you think?”

She shook her left arm.

Matt walked to the side of the bed as if he was going to inspect the cuffs. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Considering the nature of what happened, we deemed it necessary.”

Maggie looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing her mouth, trying to find the right words to fight him with, no doubt. Billy, however, stepped in. He closed the door behind them and cleared his throat.

“Let’s calm down and talk,” he said.

“Can we talk about how I’ve been cuffed to a bed for the entire night and no one, until now, has decided to come and talk to me other than doctors?”

Maggie’s cheeks were flushed, Matt noticed. For the first time he realized there was a light dusting of freckles across her nose.

“Yes,” Billy said, channeling the calm that Matt had heard him use throughout their careers. “But first, tell us the last thing you remember.”

Maggie let out a breath of frustration.

“Sneaking off to my couch in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep. I channel surfed until I fell asleep in front of the TV.”

Matt shared a look with Billy.

“In the middle of the night,” Billy repeated. “And by night you mean...”

Maggie sighed.