It took forever to fall asleep, and once she finally did, Todd was waking her up.
“Hey,” he sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to work.”
Her eyes drifted open. The sun hadn’t risen, and Todd stared at her strangely. “What?”
“Work. I have to go to work.”
“Oh...” Myra tried to sit up in bed, only to have his hand keep her in place.
“You sleep. I’ll call you in a few hours.”
She stopped trying to sit up, leaned back against the pillow, and smiled up at him. He wore his full uniform and looked every bit an officer of the law.
“Make yourself at home.” He brushed a hair from her face and got up to leave.
“Sir Blakely?” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“Be safe and Godspeed.”
The day might have been the longest of his life. It began with a mound of paperwork, starting and finishing with one subject, Myra MacCoinnich. Of course, according to the record, she was still Jane Doe #33, and he had yet to correct it.
Jake sat at his desk, going over his own pile of papers. “So, did you meet up with Melissa over the weekend?”
“No.” Todd had broken it off with Melissa several weeks ago, but since Jake liked his ex-girlfriend, he kept asking about her.
“So? What did you do?”
“Not much,” he lied. Jake would never understand why he took in Myra. Hell, he hadn’t even figured it out yet.
“Not me, I watched the game with Jim and the boys, then spent some quality time with Sheila. If you know what I mean.” Jake laughed.
“I know what you mean.”
“I had a fantastic weekend.”
“Glad to hear it,” Todd said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Nelson, Blakely,” Jim yelled from the door to the room. “Someone’s here for you two.”
A tall, thin, attractive woman stood next to Jim.
She wore a smock over a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
The smock was covered in what appeared to be paint. A small smudge of green must have missed the apron and hit her chin. She didn’t seem at all concerned about her appearance when she marched over to them.
“I came as fast as I could.” Her paint-laden hand thrust out in greeting.
Dumbfounded as to who she was, Todd said,
“That’s great. Who are you?”
“I’m sorry, I’m Liz McAllister. Do you have any word about my sister Tara?”
It was a marvelous day, one Myra would never forget. After waking, and one extraordinarily long shower, she padded around Todd’s kitchen snacking on almost everything. Although his cabinets were only half-full, everything in them was new and exciting.
She left the television on while she explored Todd’s home. At the Keep, she occasionally helped the kitchen staff, but nothing in this kitchen looked the same as the one from her time.
His freezer had boxes of food she had never seen before. Lasagna, Pizza, Thai Chicken with Noodles.
She couldn’t pronounce the names of the dishes, let alone know what they contained. There were directions printed on the boxes. She fingered a dish called a Chicken Bake and felt confident she could prepare a meal from this century for Todd. Once she found everything she thought she needed, she smiled with an overwhelming sense of pride.
She turned off the television set, and fiddled with the black box that sat next to it. Out of nowhere, music blared into the room.
Startled, Myra almost knocked over a lamp in an effort to lower the volume. Once she turned the correct knob, a nice, steady, quieter beat pulsed out of the smaller boxes around the room.
It was pleasing with a quick-tempo, much different than the music she was used to. The man who sang with the music had perfect pitch. Without thinking, Myra found herself moving to the beat.
Tara had been right about the music, she would miss it when she went home. For now, she danced, smiled and giggled at some of the words in the song.
“Have a seat, Miss McAllister,” Todd offered. She looked between the two men, apprehension written on her face. “This is about Tara, isn’t it?”
“Not directly, no.” Jake sat to her side, Todd behind the desk.
“Then what?” Disappointment laced her words.
Todd brought out the picture of Myra he had buried in papers on his desk. “Have you ever seen this woman before?”
Liz glanced at the photo. “No.”
“Take a good look.”
“Who is she?” She studied the picture before handing it back. “And what does this have to do with my sister?”
“We’re not sure who she is.” Jake took the photo, tossed it at Todd. “She ended up in a hospital a few days ago with amnesia. The only thing she remembered was your name.”
“My name? Why? I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“We were hoping you could help us with that.
Since you don’t recognize her, maybe you can’t.”
Todd let his partner do the talking.
“You said this didn’t have anything directly to do with the disappearance of my sister. What do you mean by that?”
“Just a hunch really,” Todd finally spoke. “This woman.” He held up the picture. “Has a very distinct Scottish accent. Your sister was last seen with two men with similar accents, isn’t that right?”
“That’s what I was told.” Hope filled her eyes.
“Do you think she may know something about Tara?”
“She has amnesia, Miss McAllister. She doesn’t remember anything,” Jake said.
Liz McAllister clutched her hands together and rubbed them hard. Todd had seen the action many times in the past. “Can I talk to her?”
“That might be a little difficult. She left the hospital two days ago.”
Obviously disappointed she asked, “Where did she go?”
Todd had to keep his mouth shut and let his partner go on. He told her they had no idea where she was, and no authority to spend valuable resources to find her.
“But if she knows something about my sister, you need to find her.”
“We don’t know if she has information about her.” “And you don’t know if she doesn’t. Please...” Liz stopped and lowered her voice. “You have to find her.” The woman seated across from him was obviously tormented with the loss of her sister. What did Myra know about Tara McAllister’s disappearance? If she knew anything? Was he harboring a fugitive in his home? Damn. All these unanswered questions rolling around in his head were giving him a headache.