Page 25 of Storm Warning

“Anything else going on that you haven’t told me? I need context. For one thing, you mentioned you came here to remember. What did you mean?”

Oh, Lord ... what if me being here with him is not a good thing?How would she know? But shoot if she didn’t want to trust this guy. He’d shown himself trustworthy, if that counted for anything. And maybe God was watching out for her by sending Hawk just when she needed a little help.

Because with missing days lost to her, days surrounding something vitally important, she was all alone in this, and she didn’t feel like she could even trust herself. Her own mind had betrayed her.

“The night isn’t getting any younger,” he said. “And as soon as the storm dies down to catch its breath, we need to try to make it back to the lodge and hope Masked Man isn’t so stupid to sit out there and wait for us. You might not get another chance to tell me—at least one in which we can be sure no one else is going to hear.”

Hawk was a man of reason. And she desperately wantedto talk to someone. She’d hoped to meet with Dr. Holcomb again, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Lord, let him be one of the good guys, please.

“The two pieces of a puzzle came separately. The first one was mailed and included a card that simply said, ‘remember.’ The second one was hand delivered and also included a small card that told me to remember before it’s too late.”

She waited a few breaths to let that sink in.

“Go on,” Hawk said.

“When you pulled me from that cliff, your hand triggered a flashback. A memory.”

“So, you lost some memories? See, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Whatdoyou remember?”

“Nothing. I lost almost a week. Five days, really.”

“What were you doing at the time?” he asked. “I need a lot more details here.”

Where did she even start. The details felt so convoluted. She shared about being a former military photographer and then deciding against reenlisting and traveling instead. Being at a café, then waking up in the hospital. About the man questioning her at the hospital and then following her back to the States.

“So, did you go to the police, the FBI?”

“What would I say, exactly, that wouldn’t make me sound paranoid and make myself a target? I didn’t feel comfortable talking to anyone else.”

“I wasn’t questioning your decision. I completely understand it. How did you end up here at Cedar Trails Lodge?”

She snorted a laugh. “I had to disappear. Get lost. It’s almost impossible anymore. I withdrew as much money as I could from the bank. Bought the old Bronco and then went on a long road trip. I took the back roads and did my best to avoid being tracked. I used a different name, an alias, everywhere I went and paid cash. I found my way tothe Puget Sound region. Mom and I had always wanted to see it, and so, with no place to go, that’s where I headed. I knew I needed to talk to someone. Get some help, and I found Dr. Holcomb because she accepted cash patients. I told her everything, well, because she’s a doctor and our conversations are private. I needed her help if I was going to find out what was going on.”

“And?”

“And I met with her for a year and a half, but nothing was resolved, and so about six months ago, I just stopped going.”

“What did she say about your amnesia?”

Remi shared everything Dr. Holcomb had said, adding, “She said that usually, our brains will block out memories to protect us when something simply too horrible to comprehend has happened.” Her words echoed off the concrete walls and made her story sound even more ominous. “She said that it could be that I know something, and someone doesn’t want me to remember.”

Hawk said nothing for a while, and Remi figured he might be thinking the same things she wondered. Why not just kill her in the hospital? Why let her walk out and walk free? Maybe he had those thoughts, but he didn’t say them out loud.

“But how did you end up here?”

“You mean Cedar Trails Lodge?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Holcomb had a reservation for two weeks and something came up, so she gave it to me. Said maybe the time spent in peace and quiet would help me to heal. Now that I know more about the place, I see that she thought I could find refuge here. And she was right. The woman who owns the place—Evelyn Monroe—she offers a safe place for a few of us.”

“Us? There’s more?”

“Yeah. Please don’t ask me who else because I don’t know. I only suspect.”

“And you’re running the place after only a short time.”

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