Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(39)

She shot him a puzzled glance. “Why would she have my things? From what I’ve heard, she’s hardly a purse snatcher.”

“Because this case is weird from top to bottom and someone has your purse. If you remember seeing Cass in Monterey, it’s the next natural step.”

“You think I drugged her?”

“Given your squeaky clean record, if anything, Cass drugged herself. She has a history with drugs, you don’t.” His mind was running full throttle. “Does the report say they checked the parking lot at the hotel where she was found?”

“They did a cursory check but haven’t invested time in running every plate,” she said, reading through the report.

He radioed in a request for another sweep of the parking lot and told the Monterey police that he was bringing in someone to ID their Jane Doe. But he knew what Cass looked like. Taking Sam was just a meaningless gesture of hope that something would jog her memory.

There was no fast way to traverse narrow county roads to the coast. Due to the rugged terrain, the major state highway ran parallel to the Santa Cruz mountains and the Pacific, through rolling valleys of grape vines and nothingness. Walker tried to imagine the woman beside him traveling this road at night, in a fugue state—as she called it—with no knowledge of the geography or facilities. Mindless might be the best way of traversing this route.

They pulled over once to refuel and refresh. Sam spent most of the drive with her head buried in his files on his father and Cass. He had a lot of research in there. She only spoke when she had questions. He took radio calls from the office. When the sheriff’s assistant called to say Sam’s fingerprints matched her TSA file, he pumped his fist in the air. Sam slapped his hand in acknowledgment and went back to reading.

Even though they’d verified her identity, she still had no memory of who Samantha Moon was. Got it. At least she wasn’t waving sticks and chanting. The scientist doing research was more relaxing.

It was dinnertime before they made the outskirts of Monterey. If he’d been in his hybrid i8, he’d have cut the time considerably. In an official vehicle, he had no excuse to turn on the emergency signals and break the limits.

“Need food?” he asked, glancing her way at the first red light intersection they hit.

She looked at him as if he were the crazy person. “Cass first.”

“A lady with her priorities straight, right. I’ll take you to eat on the ocean later.”

That earned him a beatific smile. He’d chew tacks to earn that smile again.

He needed to get a grip. It was probably just the adrenaline rush.

Walker pulled into the hospital parking lot and helped Sam out of the SUV. She tugged nervously at her hair, pulling it back up in combs and buttoning her jeans jacket over her dirty shirt. He could tell her she’d look like a regal princess even if she wore rags, but that probably wasn’t appropriate.

He flashed his badge, and they were directed up to the ICU. While Walker checked in at the desk, Sam strode straight to a window as if she knew where she was going. The patient inside looked like all the other patients being watched—swaddled in blankets, pale, shrunken, and surrounded by beeping equipment.

The nurse followed him over to the window—Sam had picked the right one without inquiring.

“Can you recognize her from here?” the nurse asked.

It didn’t look much like Cass. Her silver hair spilled over the pillowcase in a tumble she never allowed. Her face was pulled so taut it looked like thin paper over raw bone. Her snapping frosty blue eyes were closed. Her lips had nearly disappeared.

“That’s her,” Sam said in a whisper. “That’s Cass. That’s my grandmother.”



Without waiting for permission, Sam pushed open the hospital room door. She could feel the connection with the woman in the bed.

The nurse hurried after her, complaining about contamination. Acting on pure instinct or a call deeper than that, Sam picked up Cass’s bony hand.

Her eyelids moved.

Sam squeezed her hand tighter. “Let go now, Cass. I’m back. We need you.”

She had no idea why she said that. She had no idea why she’d called Cass her grandmother, because even with her fuzzy head she knew that wasn’t quite right. But there was an essential essence that bonded them. She could feel Cass’s stirring within her own head, feel Cass’s brain bubbling with activity.

The bony hand stirred. Sam stroked it. “Cass, please, let go. Come back.”

Walker’s big male presence in his official uniform hovered uncomfortably. He must think she was crazed. Maybe she was. But she couldn’t stop. She stroked, she whispered, and the woman beneath her hands gained color and movement.

The nurse checked monitors and hurried off, presumably to find a doctor. Walker, miraculously, stayed silent, not interrupting their internal communication.

“Water,” Sam murmured. When Walker handed it to her, she offered the glass to Cass, as if the patient had been the one asking for it.

Thin lips closed around the straw and sipped weakly. Sam nearly collapsed on the floor. Walker shoved a chair beneath her so she didn’t have to drop Cass’s hand.

Her brain felt empty, floating, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Samantha,” the woman on the bed whispered. “Sorry.”

A young doctor rushed in, followed by the nurse. He demanded they leave while he took vital signs.