Page 11 of Protected By the Lumberjack
Weird thing about amnesia; I can't remember my own name or where I grew up-- but I still remember my favorite bands.
The Ramones aren't one of them.
"Eve, it's me. Todd. Remember?"
Todd tries to dodge Mable, but she side steps and stays between me and the man who seems to know me.
Something about the man overenthusiastically greeting me from the other side of Mable, has me staying behind the old woman with her "snake-stomping" boots.
I shake my head at the man. I don't remember him.
The man in the suit, pulls a stack of papers from the leather portfolio. Ignoring Todd and only giving me a cursory glance, he addresses Mable.
"Seems we've found what we're looking for," he glances toward me again. "Now we need to find a Carver Murdock. Would you happen to know how we can contact him?"
"You can turn around and talk to him directly."
Carver pushes through the door with Deputy Hawkins right behind him.
I'm immediately in Carver's arms. He's quick to wrap me in his embrace, but all hell breaks loose as soon the strange men see me clutching Carver for comfort.
"Eveline!"
The man named Todd reaches to pull me away from Carver. The other man steps toward us, waving his stack of papers. Deputy Hawkins steps out and blocks the newcomers from reaching either Carver or me.
"Just everybody calm down and let's get things sorted out."
Half an hour later, I'm sitting in the small office that serves as the sub-station for the sheriff's department. I'm feeling numband even more stunned than when I woke up and found myself in a crashed airplane on the side of a mountain.
"He checks out," Hawk is explaining, turning Todd Olsen's ID over in his hand like he's still trying hoping to find some sign that it's a fake. "And so do you, Honey--" he clears his throat-- "Evie, I mean."
"Honey." I whisper sullenly.
It's not the Eveline Ortega that I object to. It's Todd and his attorney and their insistence that they're here to take me back to a life I don't remember-- even if I don't want to go.
"Honey." Hawkins gives my preferred name a little emphasis. "I'm afraid this is out of my control."
Carver growls. Not his usual cute little throaty noise, but a deep, menacing sound that makes him sound dangerous.
"She doesn't want to go. She's an adult. She should be able to make her own decisions."
Hawkins gives us an apologetic look. It's clear he's on our side, having done all he can to find a legal reason to avoid complying the paperwork that Todd and his attorney came armed with.
"We're going to keep working on it." He answers, almost as unhappy about the situation as Carver and I are. "In the meantime, I have no choice but to comply with the court order and turn Ms. Ortega over to Mr. Olsen's custody."
I look down at Carver's strong hand resting on my knee, squeezing slightly. Then at my own hand covering his. At the third finger on that hand, the one that doesn't bear any signs of having worn a ring at all, let alone a ring I should have loved, one that I wouldn't have wanted to take off.
But Todd Olsen says we're engaged. That we're in love. That he's been sick with worry for me and almost died himself when he heard the plane I was on had gone missing.
Worse; he knew about my amnesia. He brought his attorney, and his attorney brought paperwork. I'm under a stranger's guardianship due to my "mental impairment." It doesn't matter what I want-- a court gave Todd custody of me and I don't get a say.
Carver
The cold-blooded weasel this guy calls a lawyer hands him a piece of paper, which he hands to me.
"You've been served, Mr. Murdock. You are not allowed to contact Eveline in any manner and you will remain five hundred feet from her physical presence at all times."
Todd smirks as I focus on the restraining order he just placed in my hand.
