Stealing Shadows - Hiding In The Shadows Part 7

As Kane Macgregor led her into his apartment, that realization swirledin Faith's mind, baffling, frightening. What could it possibly mean?

He didn't know her, yet her response to him had been immediate andintense. She knew he could feel her shaking, and she was afraid the heatin her skin would also betray her. His voice, his touch, his face, allwere utterly, painfully familiar, a small pool of bright, clearcertainty in the ocean of blackness all around her, and she feared itwould kill her if she had to turn away from that, from him, and plungealone into the dark unknown.

But she would have to. There was only one explanation she could think ofto account for the dreams, one thing that made a certain kind of senseto her, and if what she suspected was true, then those dreams, thatconnection she felt so vividly between her and Kane Macgregor, were yetanother thing someone else had given her. Not hers at all.

She had no sense of herself, and it was terrifying.

He introduced Noah Bishop as his friend, and she vaguely recognized himas the man who had been with Kane on television. The angry scar down hisleft cheek didn't bother her, but his pale, watchful eyes made heruneasy; they were more silver than gray, and peculiarly reflective. Shehad the disturbing notion that he could see all the way to her soul.

"Some security building you've got here," Bishop said dryly to Kane.

"It's just electronic security on the front door at night," Kanereplied. "Easy enough to get into the building if one of the neighborsis buzzing 'in a visitor."

"That's how I came in," Faith confessed, not needing to explain thatshe'd been unsure of her welcome.

Bishop sighed. "An armed guard or two would probably be a good idea."

"I'll add that to my list of things to do," Kane said.

"Sit down, Faith."

She did, at one end of the couch, grateful to be off her feet. She stilltired easily, and just getting up the nerve to come here had beenexhausting.

Kane frowned down at her. "You're frozen. How do you take your coffee?"

She had no idea, and tried to choke back the bubble hysterical laughtertrying to escape her throat. "Ijust any way. It doesn't matter." At least he'd misread her shaking andher flushed cheeks, a.s.suming both to be due to the chilly evening.

"I'll get it," Bishop said, and went around the corner into the kitchen.

Kane joined her on the couch, no more than a foot away and half-turningso he could watch her. "I'm glad you came, Faith." He added almostapologetically, "Do you mind my using your first name? It's the wayDinah spoke of you, and-"

Faith shook her head. "No, I don't mind." Maybe it'll start to soundfamiliar.

"Good. Thank you. I'm Kane. As for my friend, most people call himBishop."

Everybody but you," Bishop called from the kitchen, proving that eitherhe had very good ears or the walls were thin.

Kane smiled slightly, then repeated to Faith, "I am glad you came. Wewanted to talk to you, even though Dr. Burnett said you couldn'tremember any- thing." There was the faintest questioning lift to thestatement.

"Nothing of my life," she confessed. "Nothing ... personal. Not who I amor where I came from. I'm still not used to the name, the face I see inthe mirror. It's ... disconcerting."

"I'd think it would be scary as h.e.l.l," he said bluntly.

"That too."

Bishop returned to the room with coffee and handed her a cup. Theirhands touched as she accepted it, and she was suddenly conscious of amoment of intense stillness. His eyes seemed to bore into hers, and shewas acutely aware of his warm fingers touching hers. The connection wa.s.so powerful, it was as if he held her physically in an inescapable grip.

Then, even as she became aware of it, the moment pa.s.sed. His fingersdrew away and he straightened, his gaze calm and cool once more. Shaken,Faith sipped the coffee and tried to think only of the drink. He hadfixed it with plenty of cream and sugar, and since it tasted pleasantshe a.s.sumed this was indeed how she took her coffee. "Thank YOU."

He nodded and chose a chair across from the couch. Very conscious thathe was watching her closely, she turned to Kane.

"I was obviously Dinah's friend," she said to him.

"I didn't know you?"

"We never met. I-went to the hospital after Dinah disappeared, to talkto the staff about her visits, and saw you briefly, but that was all."

She was afraid her hands would shake and betray her growing wearinessand fear, so she set her cup on the coffee table and laced the fingerstogether in her lap. "Do you have any idea how long I'd known Dinah, orwhere we'd met? Any- thing like that?"

He shook his head. -Dinah and I didn't meet until about seven months ago. I know a lot about her, but certainly not everything. And if youwere in any way connected with her work, I'd be even less likely to knowabout you." Bishop said quietly, "Were you connected with her work?

"From what I gathered from news reports, she's a journalist?"

"Right."

"Then I don't see how. According to the pay stubs I found in my

apartment," she said wryly, "I worked for the city. I called and spoke

to my supervisor.

Apparently, I was a small cog in a very big wheel. I did routine office work."

"Which office?" Kane asked.

"Building Inspections and Zoning." She grimaced. "About which I know

nothing. Or at least nothing I remember. My job involved typing and filing." She considered for a moment. "I think I know how to type."

There was something forlorn in her voice, and Kane acted instinctively.

He reached over and covered her tightly clasped hands with one of his

own. "The doctor said your memory will eventually come back to you,

Faith. You have to believe that."

She looked down at his hand, her eyes wide; and Bishop, watching her, was reminded of a deer frozen in a car's headlights, paralyzed and unable to save itself from certain death.

In a constricted voice, she said, "Something has been coming to me,but-not my memories. I thought they were at first, but now I see theyweren't mine at all."

Kane released her hands and leaned back, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"They started when I was still in the hospital. just dreams, but maybe

memories too, I thought. Dreams like ... like little vignettes, brief scenes of someone's life."

"Whose life?" Kane asked slowly.

She drew a breath. "Yours. And-and Dinah's."

Out of the coma.

Christ. From everything he'd been able to find out, that was the last

thing he'd expected, that she'd wake up. Ever.

He paced for a few minutes, then went to the phone and called a familiar

number. Barely waiting for the answer at the other end, he said, "Faith Parker is out of the hospital."

"What?"

"You heard me."

There was a long silence, and then, "It doesn't have to change anything.

Even if she remembers what happened before the accident, the drug

would've scrambled everything, left her confused at the very least-andpossibly psychotic."

"After so many weeks?"

"Look, don't panic, all right?"

"Dammit, I told you we shouldn't have stopped looking. I told you weneeded to find it-"

"I said don't panic. The first thing we have to do is find out if she'seven a threat."

"And if she is?"

"Then we'll take care of it."

"You dreamed about us?

Faith winced at the disbelief in Kane's voice. "Oh, I know it soundsabsurd. I've told myself that. But the dreams were too vivid, too real,to be something my own imagination conjured up. I think-" She swallowedhard. "The only answer I can think of is that somehow, in some way Ican't explain and don't understand, I've ... tapped in to Dinah'smemories."

Coolly matter-of-fact, Bishop said, "How is that possible?"

"I don't know. Maybe I was psychic before the accident." Her handslifted and fell in a brief, help- less gesture. 'Or maybe I am nowbecause of the accident. I went to the library yesterday and looked upcoma. According to what I read, a few people have come out of comasdemonstrating unusual abilities-especially if there was a head injuryinvolved." She reached up and pushed her hair off her forehead, showingthem a small square of adhesive bandage.

Kane remained silent, staring at her. It was Bishop who spoke.

"It's easy enough to claim you've ... dreamed something. How do we knowyou really have?"

She bit her lip again. "I don't know how to convince you. What I dreamedwere ordinary little scenes. Things anyone could guess would happenbetween two people. Fixing meals together. Driving in a car." Sheblushed suddenly and looked down.

"Taking a shower together."

"Any birthmarks or distinguis.h.i.+ng features?" Bishop asked dryly.

"He has a small scar low down on his left side. It- it's shaped like atriangle," Faith replied, almost in- audibly.

Bishop looked at Kane with lifted brows. "Do you?"

Kane nodded slowly. "I was thrown from a horse a few years ago andlanded on a pile of rusty tin pieces torn off an old barn. Took a chunkout of me." Reflectively, Bishop said, "I suppose someone else couldhave known about it?"

"My doctor. A few women. Dinah."

Still flushed, Faith said to Kane, "I dreamed about the two of you at abeach house somewhere. It has a screened-in porch with a funny-shapedchair, like something from the sixties. It sticks out from all thewicker furniture out there. The house has a fireplace and a spa tub.

Lots of books on built-in shelves. And at the end of the walkway to thebeach, there's a flag that says, 'Just one more day, please!" The houseis sort of isolated, with dunes all around it."

Again Bishop looked at Kane questioningly.

Kane met his friend's gaze. "All correct. The house has never beenphotographed, and we never had guests there. It was redecorated a coupleof months before Dinah disappeared, the porch screened in, the fireplaceinstalled. She had the flag made our last trip out. It was a jokebetween us, because we always wanted just one more day there."

Faith looked back and forth between the two men and said, "Maybe I'mpsychic. Does that make sense?" Still looking at Bishop, Kane said, "Youcan't tell?

"No.,"

"Why not?"

Bishop shrugged. "Maybe because of the lack of ident.i.ty. The lack ofself. That sort of emptiness throws up its own barriers. And she'spanicked by the memory loss. Trying to protect herself from toanythingelse that's probably blocking me as well. Completely reasonableon her part, but not very helpful."