Chapter 17

Seventeen

IF HER OUTSIDE ROWING had to be put on hold until the lake warmed up again in the spring, running wasn't a bad second choice to start her Sunday. Especially on a crisp, clear morning with the dawn glow lingering on the horizon.

Leaves crunching underfoot, Lindsey rounded the corner and picked up speed on the path that wound through the county park adjacent to her neighborhood. A major selling point when she'd purchased her condo.

No one was about yet at this early hour on a day many people liked to sleep in, but she wasn't alone. Ducks paddled on the lake beside her, squirrels scampered about hiding their winter stash, and a cardinal overhead greeted the awakening world with a musical trill.

Peace.

Utter peace.

Exactly what she needed after all that had happened since this month began, and a perfect prelude to set the mood for church attendance later.

Despite the overdose of trauma during the past couple of weeks, she had much to be grateful for as Thanksgiving approached. Including an invitation from Madeleine to join the eclectic group the Horizons director always gathered together for the holiday, comprised of people who might otherwise spend the day alone.

Of course, she could have gone to Boston. But if past experience was any indication, Mom would work until late Wednesday, make reservations at a high-end restaurant for their Thanksgiving meal, and escape to her home office to catch up on work emails in the waning hours of the day.

Not the jolliest of holidays.

Staying here had been smart. Madeleine's party would be much—

"No!"

Lindsey jolted to a halt as a woman's cry echoed in the still air from the other side of a cluster of pine trees up ahead.

Pulse quickening, she peered that direction in the murky light.

Two forms were visible through the branches. A gray-haired woman in casual attire, holding tight to what could be a purse, and another taller person, who was pulling on it.

A mugging?

At this hour?

As Lindsey tried to digest that, she groped for her pepper gel and started forward, nerve endings tingling. A confrontation with a mugger hadn't been on her morning agenda, but—

She gasped as the attacker shoved the woman to the ground. Pulled out a knife. Raised it above his head and—

Lindsey stumbled. Slammed her eyelids shut as bile rose in her throat.

The woman had been stabbed!

Struggling to breathe, hands shaking, she opened her eyes and fumbled for her phone.

Dropped it.

Choking back a sob, she bent to pick it up, glancing toward the man as he raised his hand again.

"No! Stop!" The anguished plea was out before she thought through the ramifications.

The attacker swung toward her. Hesitated. Brought the knife down once more on the figure that now lay unmoving on the ground.

Then he pivoted and sprinted her direction.

Sweet mercy!

Heart thumping, Lindsey squeezed the cell and began to run away as fast as her shaky legs allowed. Cold air hurtled past, but the chill on her cheeks was nothing compared to the icy fear coursing through her veins.

Please, Lord, let me get out of this alive!

That desperate entreaty came from the depths of her soul as she risked a quick peek over her shoulder.

The person with the knife was gaining on her.

Blood pounding in her ears, she increased her speed, using every muscle she'd developed over a summer of rowing as she searched her surroundings for anyone who might be able to help.

But as usual on cold Sunday mornings, she had the park to herself.

Except for the person chasing her, who wasn't likely to show any mercy to an innocent runner if they'd been willing to stab a defenseless older woman for her purse ... or whatever she'd been carrying.

So unless she outran the attacker, or a County park ranger happened to cruise through on a security patrol, she could very well end up a statistic.

Like the woman bleeding on the ground among the pine trees.

JACK TOOK THE TURN onto Lindsey's street on two wheels, tires squealing.

Too fast. Too dangerous. Not his usual style.

Gripping the wheel, he eased back on the gas pedal as her condo came into sight, several local police cruisers parked in front.

There was no reason for haste. She was safe inside, surrounded by law enforcement officers and vehicles. He'd heard her voice. The panic constricting his windpipe was illogical.

But until he saw her and was able to make sense of the message she'd left him after calling 911, logic was elusive.

He parked behind one of the cruisers, strode toward her unit, and displayed his creds to the officer standing outside her door.

After a quick scan of the ID, the man motioned him in.

As Jack opened the door and stepped inside, Lindsey's head whipped his direction. She was seated on her couch. Same place she'd been sitting the day she'd told him about the South Carolina incident. Same pillow hugged against her chest.

And she was in worse shape than she'd been while fighting off an imminent panic attack. All of the color had leeched from her complexion, and despite the distance separating them, the tremors rippling through her body were obvious.

"Sorry for the delay. I was at the early church service, phone silent, when your message came in. I got here as fast as I could." He closed the distance between them and sat beside her. "Are you okay?"

She tried to push up the corners of her lips. Failed. "I've had better days. In fact, I've had better months. But I p-probably shouldn't have bothered you. There are plenty of people here."

"It was no bother. Did anyone take a statement?"

"Yes, but no one's come back to tell me if the woman is a-alive."

"I'll see what I can find out in a minute. First, walk me through what happened." Details had been scant in her semi-hysterical message.

He listened as she described the horrifying scenario she'd stumbled into, resisting the urge to reach for her hand and enfold it in a comforting clasp—until she began taking in short, choppy puffs of air, her shaking intensified, and a film of moisture broke out on her forehead.

No way could he ignore such clear distress signals.

Disregarding professional protocol, he edged closer and tucked her ice-cold fingers in his.

She didn't pull away.

"Do you want me to get your medicine?"

"No." She swallowed, clinging to his hand. "Just give me a few minutes to concentrate on my breathing."

He remained silent while she struggled to rein in the looming panic attack, waiting until her shaking subsided and her respiration normalized to speak. "I think you licked it."

"Yes. Thanks for the loan of your hand."

"Anytime." He cleared the huskiness from his voice. "There's an officer outside the door. You're safe. If you're comfortable staying here alone, I can try to get an update."

She nodded. "Please. I want to know what happened to that poor woman."

After giving her fingers a quick squeeze, he crossed the room and exited the condo.

Out in front, a number of officers were talking by one of the cruisers, a County park ranger among them.

He joined the group, introduced himself, explained the reason for his presence, and got straight to business. "What do we have?"

"I was first on the scene." An older guy who came across as a seasoned veteran spoke up. "I knew Ms. Barnes was safe and locked in her condo, so I went directly to the park to investigate." He hesitated.

Jack frowned when he stopped. "And?"

The man shrugged. "I couldn't find anything."

A faint alarm began to beep in Jack's mind. "What do you mean?"

"There was no indication of any sort of altercation or injury in the area Ms. Barnes directed us to."

"Are you certain you were in the right spot?"

"I verified it with dispatch, and Russo double-checked with Ms. Barnes after she arrived." The man indicated a female officer in the group. "She was taking the statement."

"We did spread out after more officers arrived, to cover a wider area." This from the ranger. "No one spotted anything out of the ordinary. No blood. No tamped-down foliage. No other witnesses who've come forward. It's weird."

No weirder than the lake or car incidents.

Yet as far as he could see, Lindsey's mind was sound.

But his birth mother had been able to fool people too.

As the yellow alert in his mind turned red, the flame of attraction that had sparked to life for Lindsey began to sputter.

The last thing he needed was another delusional woman messing up his world.

Maybe Lindsey's mental processes were fine, and there was a logical explanation for all that had happened. But until that explanation was found, it would be foolish to risk his heart.

The wise course was to tamp down any personal feelings and play it safe while the situation got sorted out.

"Can one of you show me the area in question?"

"I'll be happy to." The ranger inclined his head toward his car. "Why don't we drive? It will be faster."

Jack didn't argue.

Five minutes later, the man led him to a small cluster of pine trees. The area was marked off with crime scene tape, a lone officer on duty.

Jack scrutinized the scene from all angles outside the cordoned-off area. Moved inside for a closer look.

After fifteen minutes, he reached the same conclusion as the other officers.

As far as he could see, there was nothing here to indicate a woman had been stabbed.

It was possible a County crime scene tech might spot something—and the area would remain secure until that could be arranged—but if he was a betting man, he'd lay odds that even eagle-eyed Hank would come up blank.

Time to go back and tell Lindsey the bad news.

A chore he did not relish.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, they didn't find anything?" Lindsey stared at Jack, who'd taken the chair across from the couch instead of rejoining her. Bad vibes wafted toward her.

"There's no evidence to validate your story."

"But ... what about blood? I saw the knife. I saw the man stab her!"

"We didn't find any blood."

She tried to wrap her mind around that news, but it wouldn't compute.

"I don't understand. I mean, she was wearing a coat, so I guess the blood could have been absorbed. But she had to be hurt. How could she have gotten up and walked away? And assuming she somehow managed to escape, why wouldn't she have called for help? Reported the crime?"

"I don't have an explanation for that."

Yes, he did. She could see it in his eyes—and it made her sick to her stomach.

He thought she'd imagined today's attack. Had perhaps also put an unwarranted sinister spin on the lake incident. Forgotten where she'd parked her car the night it disappeared. That all the pressures she'd faced over the past year and a half had pushed her over the edge. That she was hallucinating and no longer had a grasp on reality.

Was he even starting to wonder whether she'd seen anyone at the Robertson murder scene? Speculating that everything she'd relayed may have been a figment of her imagination?

Truth be told, and hard as it was to admit, she was also beginning to wonder about her sanity.

Because if she were viewing this from the outside, she'd be thinking along the same lines as Jack.

Her throat tightened, and she swallowed.

She needed to talk to Dr. Oliver.

Bad.

"So what happens next?" She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms.

"One of our crime scene techs will go over the scene. And we'll be on the lookout for any reports of an attack. We'll also check with area hospitals to see if any stabbing wounds show up in the ER."

At least he hadn't dismissed her claims outright and was planning to follow up.

But his skepticism was clear. Meaning her credibility was compromised.

"I'd appreciate being kept in the loop if anything turns up."

"Goes without saying." His tone was pleasant and professional, but the caring note that had warmed it earlier while he'd held her hand had evaporated.

Another punch in the stomach, though it was hard to blame him for his caution.

Nevertheless, disappointment didn't absolve her from granting him the forgiveness he'd asked for with Clair.

"Before you leave, I wanted to tell you that I've thought about everything you shared in terms of your relationship with Clair, and I no longer have any bad feelings toward you about what happened. I think we both made mistakes that led to a terrible outcome, but I don't think Clair would want us to beat ourselves or each other up about that for the rest of our lives."

An odd mixture of relief and regret rippled across his features. "I appreciate that."

"I also wanted to let you know I asked Dr. Oliver whether he could help me try to remember more details about the markings on the killer's arm. I even suggested hypnosis. But he said that doesn't work very well as a memory-recovery method. While it can help a person recall additional information, the memories tend to be a mix of accurate and inaccurate details, and witnesses usually can't tell which are true and which are fabricated."

"Thanks for asking him about it. That lines up with what I've learned on the job." He rose.

She stood too. "For the record, Dr. Oliver hasn't raised any serious red flags about my psychological health."

While this latest incident could change his opinion, until he told her otherwise, her statement was true. And letting Jack leave thinking she was crazy was unacceptable.

"Will you talk to him about what happened today?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to know what he says, if you don't mind passing that on."

"I can do better than that. I can waive client/doctor privilege and give him permission to talk to you." That was a risk, but if it boosted Jack's confidence in her reliability, it was worth the chance.

Faint creases appeared on his brow. "I don't want to invade your privacy."

"But you do need a credible witness. One a doctor of psychology can vouch for."

He studied her. "I'll tell you what. Talk it over with him. If you both agree to that plan, I'll consider it."

"That's fair."

"Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

Trust me. Believe in me. Look at me again with warmth and compassion and perhaps something more.

But she said none of that.

"I'll be fine."

He hesitated, as if tempted to say more, but in the end he turned away and walked toward the door. On the threshold, he paused. "Call if anything else comes up."

She managed to coax her mouth into a tiny, wry smile. "Let's hope nothing else does. But at this stage, I have no idea what to expect next."

"It's been a roller coaster, no question about it." His lips flattened.

"Except there's no amusement in this amusement park." Her voice caught on the last word.

The parallel lines embedded above his nose deepened. "Watch your back."

"More so now than ever."

With a dip of his chin, he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

Lindsey crossed the room and twisted the lock, then moved to the window to watch as he paused to talk to two of the officers before continuing to his car. Less than a minute later, he pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street.

And quite possibly from her life, unless she could assure him that his witness in the Robertson case wasn't losing her mind.

Time to call Dr. Oliver and see if he was going to be an ally in that effort—or if what he had to say after today's incident would only add fuel to Jack's suspicions.