The Choice by Lorhainne Eckhart

me. Maybe I’m going crazy.” She rambled and he stopped her by gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes popped open. His touch stirred some lovely odd feelings in her tummy. The way he looked at her made her feel as if what she said was not so crazy—not to him.
    “Jesse’s here.” She must have been staring like a fool, because he coughed to break the spell and held out his large hand. When she placed hers into his, it was like a soft wing with all the strength of a gentle vice, stroking her skin, tipping her belly with a faint thrill, while she allowed him to lead her inside.
    A large canvas bag lay heaped on the scratchy beige sofa, with a crumpled airline tag dangling from the strap. The kind dark skinned detective was wearing the same rumpled blue suit, but a clean light blue shirt and striped tie. He eyed her now with a look that had Marcie taking a step back. Something’s happened. He doesn’t trust me.
    “Jesse retrieved my bag from the airport.”
    Jesse shrugged his bulky shoulders and loosened his sloppy blue tie, but his hard eyes remained glued on her. “It was the least I could do for an old friend. Funny thing though, couldn’t find yours.”
    Her stomach twisted. “I don’t understand?”
    “Come on Jesse, it’s more than possible the airline lost the luggage.”
    “Sure it is. They do it all the time, why just last year they sent mine and the missus’ to Florence. Always wanted to go there; at least my bags got to go.” He chuckled at his dry attempt at humor, except Marcie couldn’t shake off the implied distrust. He looked at her with the same hardness he used when he spoke of Elise last night. And that worried her.
    “Don’t forget the backpack Jesse. Maybe it was her only piece of luggage.”
    “Okay, maybe. But then, what woman carries only an itty-bitty backpack with all her things for a trip? None I’ve met. But hey, there’s always a first.”
    Hearing Jesse’s assumption raised questions she hadn’t thought of. She paused, confused, looking at her pale hands, her long, slender fingers and really tried to clear the muddled darkness clouding her past. Except it made her anxious, and at the same time, her loss of memory filled her with an unexpected blissful peace.
    “So what do you suppose was so valuable in that backpack you were carrying?”
    Sam cocked his head and frowned. He took a step toward Jesse. “Now what are you implying?”
    “I’m not implying anything, just asked a question is all.”
    Sam looked her square in the eye and then exchanged another scrutinizing glance with Jesse, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.
    Okay now would be a good time for her memory to return. She pressed her fingers to her head and struggled to pull the backpack in question out of thin air. And just as quickly, felt an urgent need to backpedal. “I don’t remember having a backpack, even though I was told I had one.” She stumbled for words and some tangible explanation, but even she had to admit something was off. She didn’t want to remember. Or maybe it was that damn dream; she couldn’t shake it—or maybe Sam didn’t believe her. Once a liar, always a liar. Steamy heat rose in her cheeks from the obtrusive voice that squeaked in her head. Now she really wanted to hide. Instead, she stared at her bare toes and the dingy hardwood floor.
    “What about the passenger manifest, and all the planes arriving at that time?” Sam paced and circled his hand in the air for emphasis.
    Jesse cast his rough gaze at Marcie. “We know from security footage you came off Sam’s flight, but I couldn’t find no Marcie listed on the manifest. Why’s that you suppose?” His tone filled with the same distrust he used when he spoke of Elise last night.”
    Marcie didn’t know what to say. Dumbfounded the floor softened beneath her feet, while a spiraling down sensation rippled inside her tummy. Disconcerted, Marcie searched out Sam for help, but he too narrowed