Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

A s Kyle stepped onto the sidewalk, he watched the black sedan slowly pull away from the curb. The two uniformed officers, deep in conversation, had begun to walk back to their cruiser. He called out to them.

"Hey, guys. Hold on a minute." He sprinted over to where they stood in the middle of the street. Once in front of them, he said, "I'm Detective Kyle Walsh. I called in the complaint."

Kyle watched as the other men relaxed their posture when they realized they were talking to a fellow police officer. He continued, "Did you find out who those perps were?"

The red-headed man flipped through some pages on a small notepad he held in one hand. "Not sure if you can call them perps. It all seemed legit. They claimed to be waiting for a call from their boss. They said they pulled over just to take a break for a few minutes. It checked out, Detective. They had all the right paperwork; IDs were valid, and the car was legally registered to one of them." He paused, then said, "I'm PO Tom Casey and my partner here is Brad Reilly," he said by way of introduction. Casey outstretched his hand for Kyle to shake, which he did before doing the same with the other officer.

"I appreciate you both stopping by," Kyle began. "When I didn't recognize the car, I became concerned. This is a tight-knit neighborhood, we keep an eye out for one another's property." He didn't want to tell these two anything else; he didn't feel that they had a need to know about Mia and her predicament.

"Of course, Detective. Just doing our job. If there's nothing else, we'll be on our way," Casey said.

"Sure," Kyle said. "If I see that car again, I'll be sure to call it in. Those men probably won't be back. There are lots of other places for them to sit while on a break from work."

"Absolutely, Detective. Have a good day."

Both men tipped their hats in Kyle's direction, and he watched them get back into their cruiser and drive off. He just stood still for a moment looking around his block. With that black sedan gone, nothing struck him as out of the ordinary. There were Halloween decorations on most of the houses; carved jack-o-lanterns sat on tidy porches and orange and black streamers adorned the lampposts along the quiet street. Autumn leaves were scattered across lawns, a carpet of gold, red, and bronze swirling with the gentle movement of the wind.

He hadn't given a lot of thought to the approaching holiday, as it was always more of a nuisance than anything else, especially when he first walked a beat after graduating from the police academy. Kids out for some fun, others out for pranks or minor mischief. He could remember when he and his brothers would plan their candy-grabbing strategy to be sure to visit the houses that gave out full-sized chocolate bars and avoid the ones that handed out raisins in small red boxes, then once they were older, buying dozens of eggs to let loose on their unknowing victims. They found their fair-share of trouble in those days, egging houses and toilet papering trees, but they stuck together like glue. It was always "all for one and one for all." Kyle consistently knew where to turn when he needed something. He knew just how lucky he was that his family was always there for him, especially now. As if it wasn't enough that he was on leave from work, he had Mia to deal with.

Mia. It must be terrifying to not know who you were and if you had a family out there somewhere looking high and low for you. Or worse, what if no one was looking for you at all. Or even more extreme, if the people who were looking for you drove an unmarked black sedan and seemed somewhat nefarious. Kyle shook his head. It was time to go back inside and try to figure out who the woman in his house was. For some reason, he felt like she was a ticking clock whose hands were approaching the midnight hour, the time when all hell was due to break loose.

Mia finished drying the last of the breakfast dishes when she heard Kyle's key in the door. She quickly folded the towel and dropped it on the counter, then waited for him to come inside.

"Well?" she asked. "Did you find out what those creepy men were doing?"

"They were just taking a moment out of their day," he said.

"Here, on your block? Does that seem likely to you?" she asked incredulously.

"Not really, but without more to go on, I have to believe it at face value for now. Besides, their identification didn't raise any red flags in the system. The officers who showed up ran their information. No hits."

She shook her head. "Okay, I guess you know what you're talking about. You're the detective." Mia remarked.

"Maybe. Or maybe we just need to get out of here for a bit. We could take a walk when Sarah wakes up. It's a beautiful day. A little chilly, but the sun is out. I could show you around the neighborhood."

"That sounds lovely," she said. "I'll pull out some warm things for the baby to wear. We could all use some air. And if there's a market nearby, we could pick up something to make for dinner. Perhaps if I see some groceries I'll be able to remember how to make a dish or two."

"You mastered breakfast, that's for sure. And I can always make us pasta tonight. You don't need to cook again."

"Eggs and bacon seem like the kind of food you don't need your memory to prepare. A simple pasta as well. But I'm thinking that if I'm presented with a variety of things, I might recall which go together to become something reasonable to eat. Or at least that's the plan."

"If you say so," Kyle replied. "There's a Trader Joe's in walking distance of here. I'm sure there are some other things you might need as well. Do you have enough diapers and wipes for now?"

"Probably not, but I'll check," she said.

"Why don't you do that while I go see if I can figure anything else out from the report on the men who parked outside. Once the baby wakes up, we can go out for a while."

"Sounds good, I'll just be a few minutes," she said as she tiptoed into the bedroom.

Kyle watched her go and wondered just how long she'd be there with him, in his house, in his life. When he finally put the pieces to this puzzle together – and he knew that it would happen -- would he feel good about sending her back to whomever was waiting for her, wherever that was? Would they stay in touch? Would he ever see her again? He stood up straight. Holy shit. Cut it out. You're just here to help this woman get back on her feet. You're not friends. You barely know her. Stop being pathetic and get on with it.

He turned toward his office and with a determined air, put himself in front of his computer screen and saw that his own life had caught up to him. He had an email letting him know that his range test was scheduled for the day before Halloween. The good news was that it must mean that he was inching closer to being released from administrative leave. The more concerning news was that he was going to have to shoot his gun, even if only at a target. He sighed. He could obsess over the final hurdle before he got his badge back, or he could shake it off and try to uncover Mia's identity. He put his head down and got to work.

An hour later they were in one of the aisles of Trader Joes. It wasn't too crowded, and Mia was pushing the stroller while he pushed a small cart growing crowded with groceries. She had put some potatoes and carrots as well as a whole chicken in their haul and was now looking for fresh thyme and rosemary. Apparently, roast chicken was another one of the meals she claimed one needed no memory to prepare. They rounded one end-cap filled with a variety of brightly packaged, Halloween themed chocolate bars.

"Look at all the sweets!" she exclaimed. "What day is it?"

Before he replied, it registered on him that she didn't say "candy," but instead said, "sweets." Then he thought again about the fact that she had an accent when they first met, but not after that. "It's October 28 th ," he said. "Halloween is a few days from now."

"Halloween," she repeated. "Costumes and ghost stories, right? I'm not so far gone as to not remember that!"

"True, but we call this candy. You just called it sweets."

"Candy, sweets, it's all the same, isn't it? It must be something I heard somewhere," she shrugged her shoulders, looking as confused as he felt.

"You didn't hear it here in the states. Or at least not here in the northeast."

"What are you thinking, Kyle? Do you think I'm from somewhere else? I mean, not from New York at the very least?"

"Well, you were heading north. Maybe you're from Canada? Maybe that's where you were going?"

He made a mental note to check the use of language in Canada, to see what exactly they called candy there. But if he was a betting man, and he went back again to the sound of her voice when he first found her at the crash, he was starting to think that she was from somewhere else. Somewhere across an ocean. Should I mention that she spoke with a British accent when I first found her? Would that confuse her even more?

"I wish I knew, Kyle. If I did, I would be out of your hair. I keep waiting for a thunderbolt, you know? A revelation of some sort that would jolt me back into my life."

"Did you ever think that maybe whatever it was that caused the accident is the reason you truly don't remember?"

"What do you mean?"

He looked at her across a large display of organic broccoli and thought better of having this conversation in the produce aisle of his local market.

"Never mind. I just think that the brain is a mysterious and complicated organ. There's got to be an explanation for your amnesia."

"You mean other than a really hard hit on the head? The emergency room physician didn't seem that concerned. He didn't even suggest a follow-up appointment. He just told me to give it time and my memory should come back."

"Maybe it will. And don't take me too seriously. I'm not a doctor. Hell, I barely made it out of high school chemistry. I truly know nothing where head injuries are concerned."

"I thought you suffered concussions as a teenager. Didn't you tell me that, or am I remembering the wrong information as well as forgetting my own past?"

"No, you've got that right. I played a lot of ice hockey and had my fair share of injuries."

"You never lost your memory?"

"Not for this long," he replied softly. "And I would mostly not remember getting hit. But don't read anything into that. Everyone is different and even though I got checked into the boards more times than I can count, I was wearing a helmet. That helped. You weren't."

She looked at him for a long time and he watched as her eyes filled with tears.

"I hate that you had concussions. This recovery is not fun. I mean, the headaches have stopped, but my memory isn't back. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, but especially not someone as kind and caring as you've been with me and Sarah."

In that moment Kyle almost broke. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her until she felt better, until she was whole once more. But she wasn't his to take and until he knew exactly who she truly was, he knew better than to let this go any further.

He cleared his throat. "Let's go pay for these groceries," he motioned to the cart. "It's getting dark already. The temperature will drop before you know it. We should take the baby home."

Home, he thought. Once she was gone, would it still feel that way?