August Unknown (4 page)

“But it’s not her name, honey,” Geoffrey said. Jocelyn was
acting like she needed a nap. She’d probably slept as fitfully as he had last
night.

“How do you know?” she argued. “She was born in August. It
might be her name.”

Another silence reigned. Even the woman’s attention was
caught.

“Your birthstone,” Jocelyn explained. She touched a fingertip
to the patina stone in the delicate gold ring the woman wore on her right hand.
“Peridot is my birthstone, too.”

“August.” She yawned. “I like that better than Jane Doe.”

“August it is, then,” Nurse Barnes said. “August Unknown.”

* * *

Geoffrey returned to the hospital that afternoon with a new
toothbrush, a plush velvet robe, and a cheerful floral arrangement of yellow
daisies.

August was awake and staring across the room at the window.
Afternoon light flooded through, bright and warm. She turned and saw him as he
entered. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she tucked away a damp tissue.

“Hi,” he said stupidly.

He suspected he was imagining it, but her smile seemed genuine
when she saw the flowers. “Hi. Geoffrey, right? With a G.”

He groaned silently and heat rushed into his face.

But her smile only grew. “Are those for me?”

“Actually, they’re for her.” He gestured to the sleeping woman
in the next bed. “I thought she’d like them.”

August actually laughed. “I’m sure she’ll love them.” She
tried to hide her bashful smile. It made her absolutely enchanting.

“Do you think she’ll like this? I know how those hospital
gowns are drafty in back.”

He opened the gift box and held up the royal blue robe. When
she saw it, her face filled with amazement. “So generous. I think her husband
will get jealous.”

Husband
. The word hit him like a punch in the gut.
What
about your husband, August?

Since leaving this morning with Jocelyn, mysterious August
Unknown had filled his every thought.

He’d gone out to talk to his brother-in-law at the sheriff’s
office, and then to visit his grandmother at the Mirthful Mermaid.

He’d hoped Gran Millie would say just the right thing to ease
his conscience, but he should have known she’d be angry instead. She wasn’t a
child who couldn’t take care of herself in a little storm, and if he’d stayed
at home where he should have been, this wouldn’t have happened. By the time
he’d left, his guilt was burning hot and bright.

He’d driven home through Newport, intending to get some work
done in his home office for a while, but had only made it as far as
Le’gante
Boutique
for the robe before turning around to come back. He’d thought
about the flowers on the way, and stopped at
Everlasting
, the exclusive
florist who’d done his sister’s wedding. He didn’t want to show up with
hospital gift-shop flowers.

Now he felt ridiculous. How could he be such a fool? He
glanced to the door, wondering if an angry husband would come bursting through,
eyes blazing, clawed hands reaching for Geoffrey’s throat.

“Actually, I did get you something.” He set the toothbrush on
the food tray jutting over the bed.

“You know just what a girl wants.” Her expression grew somber.
“This is all very nice, but you really shouldn’t go to so much trouble.”

He moved closer and placed his hand on the dull beige railing.
“You’ve been crying again.”

She glanced away. Those summer-sky blue eyes paled as they
caught the sunlight flooding the room. They held such sadness he felt himself
shriveling up inside.

“I’m frustrated,” she said. “Frustrated that I can’t remember
a thing. Frustrated that I can’t use my left arm. Frustrated that I have to lie
here in this bed, not knowing what happened to me, or why.” August made a fist
with her right hand and hit it against the mattress. She winced in pain and
closed her eyes.

“Do you want me to get the doctor to give you something?”

She shook her head. “I don’t like what they gave me. It makes
me feel dopey.”

“I can talk to him about something different—”

“No. The pain makes me feel more alive.” She sighed and
relaxed the scowl in her brow. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time dealing with
the fact I can’t remember my own name.”

He nodded and glanced down, fighting for something to say to
help ease her grief. He couldn’t think of a single thing. There was nothing
that could lessen what he’d done.

“What’s this you’re writing?”

She turned the paper toward him. “They sent a psychologist up
to see me. She suggested I write letters and numbers to see if they go
anywhere, like a phone number or zip code.”

“The police can run a sequence of numbers to see if they match
a street address,” he told her. “The sheriff is my brother-in-law. I’ll ask him
to give your case special attention.”

He looked up to find her watching him. “Do these look like
anything you use here?” she asked.

Geoffrey didn’t have the heart to crush the hopeful look in
her eyes. Newport’s zip codes started with a nine, and most of the area codes
started with a five. The woman in the next bed moaned in her sleep, sparing
him.

“I spoke to Dr. Carlson about moving you to a private room,”
he told her. “I’ll take care of the costs.”

“It’s not necessary. They’re letting me go in two days. They’d
let me go tomorrow if I could remember where I live.”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in a private room.” In
his heart he knew it was irrational—she was only being polite—but he felt as
though he’d just been rejected.

“I need to stay with people,” she explained. “Mrs. Thornton
and I were talking after you left this morning, and I remembered little things.
Nothing I could put my finger on, but crumbs were there.”

She gave that pitiable smile he’d seen too many times before.
The
I just like you as a friend
look.

The guilt that had been growing in him felt like steadily
rising water. Now it felt like it was about to go over his head. “I can’t begin
to imagine what you’re going through. I want to do whatever I can to help you.
This is all my fault—”

“Stop saying that.” She placed her hand over his where he held
the rail. He looked down to see her slender fingers curling around the knuckles
of his hand. When he looked up and met her eyes, she drew it away. A cold spot
was left where she’d touched him.

Her eyes clouded over with something dark. “I’m not so sure
it’s true. What was I doing there in the first place?”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“You said it happened near vacant fisheries,” she pressed.
“What was I doing out on a dark road in the middle of nowhere, after ten
o’clock at night, in a storm?”

“Are you saying you think there might have been foul play
involved?”

She closed her eyes and pressed two fingers to the bridge of
her nose. “I don’t know what I’m saying. But I have a strange feeling I can’t
get past.” She leveled a determined gaze on him. “Why hasn’t anyone reported me
missing?”

“I may have the answer to that.” Officer Gaffney stood in the
doorway holding a folder. Geoffrey knew his brother-in-law well enough to
recognize the solemn look on his face as bad news.

* * *

The sight of a uniformed officer made August’s heart kick
against her ribs. Geoffrey seemed to recognize the man. He stepped around the
bed and offered a handshake to Geoffrey.

“Heard you had a bit of an accident last night. What in
damnation were you doing out in a storm like that?”

“I was after Gran. Jocelyn wanted her to come home with us.”

“I think Leah’s better off not knowing Jocelyn was in the car
with you,” the officer warned.

Geoffrey held up both hands. “She won’t hear it from me.”

“You must be Geoffrey’s brother-in-law.” August hoped the
sheriff was here as a friend to Geoffrey and not on some grim, official
business.

“This is Mike Gaffney, Sheriff’s Department Investigator. Mike
is married to my sister, Paige.”

The officer gently shook her good hand. “Dr. Carlson tells me
you took a nasty bump on the head and can’t remember much.”

August nodded, fighting a sudden stinging of tears. She took a
deep breath.

“Don’t you worry. I’ve seen it before and it always passes.
I’m sure it’ll all come back.” He craned his neck to look at the paper on the meal
tray. “I see Dr. Lohman gave you a homework assignment.”

“She’s been writing numbers in case something comes out
naturally, like a phone number or address,” Geoffrey told him.

“May I?” Officer Mike picked up the paper. “These don’t look
like local prefixes or area codes, but I’ll run them through my database.” He
folded it up and placed it in his pocket. “Is there anything at all you can
tell me, even something simple, like a hobby that interests you, or a favorite
food?”

August’s frustration came barreling back. “Favorite food? How
in the world is that going to help?”

Officer Mike twitched his bushy mustache. “You might be
surprised.”

“Sure,” she snapped. “I like the white clam chowder better
than the red.”

The men glanced at each other.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I know you’re just trying to
help.” She sighed. “Actually, I like them both.”

Geoffrey smiled and August couldn’t help but smile too. There
was something comfortable about his face that made her feel safe. Though he was
a virtual stranger, she was glad he was here with her during the officer’s
questioning. All day, a dark and frightening presence had been lingering in the
shadows of her mind, and in a strange way she couldn’t quite identify, the
officer’s appearance made it worse.

Good God, I wasn’t a criminal, was I?
She shuddered
before she could stop herself. The nagging ache in her arm spiked.

“I’ve been trying to picture a house, but I can’t see
anything,” she told them. “I have to have lived somewhere, didn’t I? I feel
like I’m reaching through a dark doorway for something to grab onto, but
there’s nothing there.”

A long moment of silence hung in the air. Dr. Lohman had
explained there was no cure for amnesia. No one knew how to help her. She was
desperately alone.

Officer Gaffney laid a manila folder on the tray. “Last night
a sailboat sank off the coast, near Astoria.”

As though someone had opened a furnace, a blast of heat struck
August. Behind the two men, the room drifted away.

“Three people up on deck trying to keep her afloat were washed
overboard. There was one survivor, an older woman who didn’t know how to use
the radio. The Coast Guard found the boat adrift, partially submerged this
morning.”

“And the three people?” She hardly found the strength to ask.

“The bodies of two men were found this morning. A woman
matching your description is still missing.”

The room began to spin. August’s stomach churned.

Officer Gaffney flipped open the folder and sorted through
until he found an eight-by-ten photo of a young woman with shoulder-length
blond hair. “According to the grandmother, this photo is quite old.”

“That isn’t August,” Geoffrey said.

She breathed out her fear in a whoosh, relieved and at the
same time strangely disappointed.

“August?” Officer Gaffney passed a quizzical glance from one
to the other.

“I didn’t like the name Jane Doe. I was born in August—at
least we think so. Jocelyn figured it out.” She held up her right hand. “My
birthstone ring is a peridot.”

“Well, Miss August, I can’t say this is bad news. It’s never pleasant
to notify someone they’ve lost a relative.”

“I’m glad it isn’t me, too.” She chewed her lower lip, trying
to force back tears. Though the two dead men weren’t related to her, the tragic
news still made her ill.

“There is something I remember,” she volunteered hesitantly. “Though
I don’t know how it will help you.”

They both looked at her with expectant expressions. She let
her gaze drift over the photo of the missing woman. “This morning when I looked
at myself in the mirror, I wasn’t surprised to see what I looked like. I recognized
myself.”

“That’s a good sign,” Officer Gaffney told her. “You’ll
probably recognize other people and things you know, too. It’s just a matter of
time, and getting you up and out of this bed.”

“When you’re released, I’ll be happy to take you wherever you
want to go.” Geoffrey smiled sheepishly. “If you trust my driving.”

“That might not be necessary,” Officer Gaffney told them. “I’m
going to take a thumbprint and run it through the Department of Motor Vehicles.
There’s a good chance we’ll know your real name before you’ll need to.”

Worry sat like a lead ball in her stomach, but August allowed
him to take her print. She didn’t know why, but the thought of discovering her
identity before she remembered what happened to her sent needles of ice prickling
up her spine.

Chapter Four

August toyed with her food—a strange concoction that was
supposed to be stew—until it was so congealed the mystery chunks no longer slid
easily across the plastic dish.

She couldn’t get over the uneasiness that had started her
insides quivering when the sheriff said he was going to run her thumbprint
through the DMV database. In the back of her mind, fear lingered. Was she a
criminal on the run? A frightened wife fleeing an abusive husband? She looked
down at the faint tan line on her wedding finger.

“Not hungry?”

She looked up to find Geoffrey in the doorway. She hardly knew
him, but already the sight of him gave her a thrill. His comfortable smile and
timid charm almost seemed to ease her aches and pains.

He was handsome in a unique way. The things she liked about
him weren’t the typical things she suspected women observed in attractive men.
He had a nice physique and the toned body of a man who exercised, but she
admired the kindness in his smile that reached all the way to his eyes, and the
graceful lines of his strong hands. He possessed the same thick blond curls Jocelyn
did, and probably found them just as unruly. His brows and the clipped beard he
kept trimmed into neat lines were darker brown which, contrasting with his
blond hair, gave him a sun-bleached, surfer look. His eyes were a rich, cocoa
brown that made her want to smile when he gazed at her warmly. The mint green
polo shirt and faded denim jeans he wore today added to the casual flair of a
man who was confident of his looks.