A Forever Christmas(49)

“Not yet,” he told Miss Joan. “Up until now, Alma’s been combing through the files by hand, placing calls to other sheriffs’ offices and police stations. At first it was only within a hundred-mile radius, but then she expanded it somewhat when she didn’t get a positive response.”

He’d found out that his sister had made up a small poster with Angel’s picture. She made sure it was mailed out to all the various offices.

The process was painfully slow in comparison to what they’d become accustomed to, but in lieu of a functioning computer—each would shut down the moment the internet was accessed—that method had to suffice.

Now, however, they had gotten back on track and things would move far more quickly again.

If there was anywhere to move, Gabe silently qualified.

On a personal level, though he knew it was selfish, he hoped that they would never find out who Angel actually was and where she belonged. She was his Angel and that was all that really mattered to him.

But, as one of Forever’s deputies, he felt obligated to do whatever he could in order to get answers for Angel—or whatever her real name was.

As if reading his mind, Miss Joan leaned her head closer to his and suggested, “Why don’t you let it go until after Christmas?”

Not that he wasn’t sorely tempted, but that would be giving in to a personal whim. Gabe shook his head. “Wouldn’t be right.”

To which, in response, Miss Joan shrugged her thin shoulders. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s ‘right,’ and then there’s right.”

She walked away then, leaving him to contemplate the difference—and secretly wishing for the advent of another computer virus.





Chapter Thirteen



The police detective froze as the image of the young woman on the bulletin board he’d just passed registered with his brain.

Stunned, he backtracked the few steps he’d taken and stared at the eight-by-ten photocopy secured onto the overfilled board with thumbtacks haphazardly stuck into two of its corners. The quality of the photograph wasn’t the best, but it was good enough to stop the breath in his lungs.

That was her, it had to be.

But how could it be?

Dorothy was dead.

There were three small, concise paragraphs on the sheet directly below the photograph. The first time he scanned them, not a single word penetrated his brain. Banking down his mounting agitation, he read the paragraphs again. And then a third time. Finally the fog around his brain began to release its hold. He could make out the words.

The woman had been found in Forever, Texas. Whoever had sent out the poster was trying to find out who she was. Apparently the woman had been involved in an accident and had lost her memory.

Yeah, right, he silently jeered.

Anger, relief and disbelief all stampeded through him as he reread the words for yet a fourth time.

Maybe it was true. Maybe Dorothy had lost her memory. He turned the idea over in his head. That meant a clean slate, a clean start.

He smiled for the first time since the poster had caught his attention. If it was true, maybe this time she would get things right. There’d be no problems if she just got things right.

He could bring her home and start over.

A second chance.

He nodded to himself as he took down the poster. Maybe it would work out, after all.

Changing direction, he went in search of his lieutenant. He was going to need some time off to go down to Forever and bring her back.

Forever.

He laughed shortly under his breath. Had to be some little pimple of a town that undoubtedly housed a couple of hayseed families and a bar. He’d never heard of it before, but that didn’t matter. He’d find it. And bring her back.

One way or another.

* * *

“SHE GOT YOU TO GET a Christmas tree, huh?” Alma asked her brother the second Gabe walked into the sheriff’s office the next morning.

He was late and that wasn’t like him. Ordinarily she’d rag on him for that, but the Christmas tree purchase was just too good to pass up without a comment. That took front and center.

Gabe could see that his sister had been all but bursting, waiting to spring the subject on him. That was Alma, all right. He supposed he should count himself lucky that his sister hadn’t called him in the middle of the night to laugh about the change he’d undergone since he’d saved Angel’s life.

It seemed that by saving hers, he’d transformed his own.