Page 13 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

A smartly dressed mixed-race man poked his head in the doorway carrying a canvas bag. He wore the white shirt, black pants, and the kind of loafers that screamed police officer. His skin was a dark caramel with a head of curls that he kept loose. He smiled into the room, displaying an LAPD badge that he showed to the patient and doctor.

“May I?” He asked Dr. Lewis, who rose to his feet. Giving his patient one more smile, he started out of the room.

“Yes, but keep the questions short. She’s had quite the shock,” he cautioned. To his patient, he said, “Detective Summers has some things to discuss with you, but he won’t be long. Any problems, you just ring this bell here,” he gestured to a button on the panel beside the bed, “and help will be right with you.”

He reached the door before he stopped, gesturing at the bedside table.

“You may find you’ll experience some dizziness or a headache. This is to be expected. I’ve left you pills on the side there. Take those if you feel any pain, even if it’s from your wounds. But if, after you’ve taken them, you feel worse, or it doesn’t lessen after an hour, let me know immediately.”

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she nodded at him.

“I will.”

He left, leaving her trying not to show her nervousness toward Summers, who made his way over. The man was here to help, yet she felt a deep weariness toward him that she couldn’t explain.

“So, first thing we need to establish, since you can’t remember who you are, we need to give you a temporary name. Are you happy if we go with the traditional ‘Jane Smith’? I know it’s not sexy, you’re free to create something a little more elaborate if you’d like?”

She barely gave the name a moment’s thought, though she was grateful for his consideration. What they called her didn’t matter — what mattered was who she actually was.

“That’s fine. I’m good with Jane.”

“Excellent,” Summers said, lowering into the chair beside the bed. Taking out a leather-bound notebook, he flipped it open, pen poised over the blank page.

“Can you tell me what you remember?”

Jane paused, thinking back.

“Not much. I woke up on the beach. Everything hurt. I thought I must’ve drifted off to sleep as I was sunbathing, but then I saw the cuts on my body, and the dress I was wearing.”

Her voice cracked from the stress of the memory. The raw shock she had felt, and the terror that had turned her blood to ice, threatened to overcome her again.

Seeing Jane grow paler, Summers gave her a moment to compose herself.

“You had no idea where you were? What state you were in?”

“No... I didn’t think about that. I was just shocked at my injuries and confused about everything. But then the dog came over...”

“Ah yes, the dog belonging to Logan Steel. Must have been another shock to see a famous movie star coming your way,” Summers smiled.

Jane stared at him blankly.

“I actually didn’t recognize him. Should I know who he is?”

Summers gave her a half-amused, half-astonished smile.

“He’s only one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. Well, he was, but he seems to have had a little trouble of late, if the gossip rags are to be believed. My other half loves everything he’s done: she’s dragged me to all of his movies.”

“You don’t like him, then?” Jane asked.

“It’s not so much him: he seems a decent actor, just haven’t been fond of the kind of movies he’s famous for. All brawn and no brain,” Summers replied. “I get enough of that down at the station,” he joked.

Summers looked to be a typical cop, with the kind of confidence that came from knowing he was good at his job. He had an air of competence about him that Jane found comforting. Beneath the kindness lay a toughness of steel.

“What about your past, have you been able to remember anything? Where you went to school, maybe? Where your parents worked?”

Jane searched her mind, but there was nothing there. Only a blankness and the beginnings of a thudding headache. Rubbing her temple, she reached for the pills the doctor left.

“Sorry, I’ve got nothing.” Frustration welled inside suddenly until she slammed her fist onto the over-bed table. Water spilled out of the tumbler, splashing onto her leg, but she ignored it.

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