remember where that is?” If she happened to remember anything, it certainly would make all their lives a little easier.
“I know it must have something to do with the Sweet Magnolia. Why else would I have been there?”
The million-dollar question . “But you don’t remember your name?”
She sighed and dropped the remainder of the sandwich in the plastic. “The doctor said he thought my memory would come back in a few days.”
“He’s a good doctor. I’m sure that’s true.”
“The truth is until I remember, I have nowhere to go. He suggested the police would help me find a shelter. He said there are places where women can go or maybe special cells where people stay overnight.” She grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to go to jail. I’ve done nothing wrong.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “What’s going to happen to me?”
As justified her fears were, he was unprepared to deal with them. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll work something out. We have no reason to believe you’ve done anything wrong.” He scratched the back of his neck, debating the truth of his statement. He pried from her grasp and occupied his hands with pouring her a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”
She took it from him and smelled it first, carefully taking a sip. “It’s water,” she remarked with surprise.
“Yeah.” He regarded her curiously. “You finish it. I’ve got to step out and visit with Detective Gleason.”
“You mean your cowboy friend?” she asked, catching a dribble of water on her chin.
Shado gave her a puzzled look. “Right.” Surely, the hat was a dead giveaway he was a Texas transplant, because he hadn’t mentioned it to her. “Are you okay?” She nodded.
He drew his hand down his cheek as he stepped from the room to find his “cowboy friend.” He found him seated in the waiting area.
“How’s she doing?” Gleason stood.
“She wolfed down that sandwich like nobody’s business. But she’s scared out of her mind she’s going to jail.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “There’s no way I can let her stay in some holding cell. Besides, what if she happens to remember something? You heard the doc. She needs to be supervised for at least twenty-four hours.”
Gleason tilted his head and eyed him. “Boy, what is rattling around in your head?”
Shado rolled his shoulders and ran his hands down his face, mentally exhausted from his day. Truth was, he’d been battling a gnawing feeling in his gut ever since he laid eyes on the woman. Her clothes. Her story. Her perceived innocence. None of it added up. He was partly to blame for her predicament. What choice did he have? He felt responsible. He’d seen her fear. She might not immediately remember the killer’s face, but he sure as hell knew hers. If Espinoza had any part in this, she’d be like a sitting duck in a public cell. She needed to disappear. Get off the streets. Stay under the radar. Shado glanced toward Jack. “What if I take her to my place? At least for twenty-four hours. She might have her memory back by then.”
Gleason snorted. “Oh hell, yeah. The captain’s going to go for that. Get serious.”
“She doesn’t belong in a cell.” Shado spoke in a low voice, throttling his frustration. “Right now, we don’t have much choice.”
“Not one you can live with anyway. Right?”
“I live like a mole. She’d be safe with me.”
Gleason raised a brow, releasing a deep sigh. “I can’t argue. You’re worse than my Aunt Lucy, and we haven’t seen her in twenty years.”
“I thought you said she died.”
“She did, and it took weeks to find her.” Gleason eyed him. “I’m not sure about this harebrained idea of yours.”
“I work undercover. I’m gone all the time. What do you expect? It’s perfect.
We’ll bring the books to my place.”
“It sounds like you’re setting yourself up for a mess of trouble.”
The doctor walked from the room with the woman at his side. She held her coat
“I know it must have something to do with the Sweet Magnolia. Why else would I have been there?”
The million-dollar question . “But you don’t remember your name?”
She sighed and dropped the remainder of the sandwich in the plastic. “The doctor said he thought my memory would come back in a few days.”
“He’s a good doctor. I’m sure that’s true.”
“The truth is until I remember, I have nowhere to go. He suggested the police would help me find a shelter. He said there are places where women can go or maybe special cells where people stay overnight.” She grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to go to jail. I’ve done nothing wrong.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “What’s going to happen to me?”
As justified her fears were, he was unprepared to deal with them. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll work something out. We have no reason to believe you’ve done anything wrong.” He scratched the back of his neck, debating the truth of his statement. He pried from her grasp and occupied his hands with pouring her a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”
She took it from him and smelled it first, carefully taking a sip. “It’s water,” she remarked with surprise.
“Yeah.” He regarded her curiously. “You finish it. I’ve got to step out and visit with Detective Gleason.”
“You mean your cowboy friend?” she asked, catching a dribble of water on her chin.
Shado gave her a puzzled look. “Right.” Surely, the hat was a dead giveaway he was a Texas transplant, because he hadn’t mentioned it to her. “Are you okay?” She nodded.
He drew his hand down his cheek as he stepped from the room to find his “cowboy friend.” He found him seated in the waiting area.
“How’s she doing?” Gleason stood.
“She wolfed down that sandwich like nobody’s business. But she’s scared out of her mind she’s going to jail.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “There’s no way I can let her stay in some holding cell. Besides, what if she happens to remember something? You heard the doc. She needs to be supervised for at least twenty-four hours.”
Gleason tilted his head and eyed him. “Boy, what is rattling around in your head?”
Shado rolled his shoulders and ran his hands down his face, mentally exhausted from his day. Truth was, he’d been battling a gnawing feeling in his gut ever since he laid eyes on the woman. Her clothes. Her story. Her perceived innocence. None of it added up. He was partly to blame for her predicament. What choice did he have? He felt responsible. He’d seen her fear. She might not immediately remember the killer’s face, but he sure as hell knew hers. If Espinoza had any part in this, she’d be like a sitting duck in a public cell. She needed to disappear. Get off the streets. Stay under the radar. Shado glanced toward Jack. “What if I take her to my place? At least for twenty-four hours. She might have her memory back by then.”
Gleason snorted. “Oh hell, yeah. The captain’s going to go for that. Get serious.”
“She doesn’t belong in a cell.” Shado spoke in a low voice, throttling his frustration. “Right now, we don’t have much choice.”
“Not one you can live with anyway. Right?”
“I live like a mole. She’d be safe with me.”
Gleason raised a brow, releasing a deep sigh. “I can’t argue. You’re worse than my Aunt Lucy, and we haven’t seen her in twenty years.”
“I thought you said she died.”
“She did, and it took weeks to find her.” Gleason eyed him. “I’m not sure about this harebrained idea of yours.”
“I work undercover. I’m gone all the time. What do you expect? It’s perfect.
We’ll bring the books to my place.”
“It sounds like you’re setting yourself up for a mess of trouble.”
The doctor walked from the room with the woman at his side. She held her coat
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