Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (9 page)

Leaning down to snag her hand, he escorted her to the back room, where Gyspy laid on a blanket, eyeing the three cats invading her space. He walked to a cabinet and grabbed a microchip scanner, before kneeling over the dog.

Running the scanner over the dog, his heart leaped when an identifier had been found. His eyes showed his enthusiasm as they sought hers. “We’ve got a number!”

“Will that tell me who I am?” she asked excitedly.

“Well, it will tell us who had the dog registered. Since you are the probable owner, then at least we’ll know more than we did.”

Taking the scanned number to the computer on the counter, he began to search. It did not take long for a hit to come up, but he stared at it in confusion. Turning slowly to her, he said, “I’ve got an identifier chip. It says TSA-GMK and then a number. I don’t know what the rest of this means, but this identifies a Transportation Security dog.”

*

Two hours later,
Blaise pulled into the driveway of Jack’s property, Miss sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of his jeep. Glancing sideways, he noticed her posture and instinctively reached over to gather her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Her gaze cut over to his before staring out of the window again. As Jack’s large house came into view, she gasped. “Oh my goodness, this is beautiful.” Then her eyes landed on the number of vehicles in the front. “Who all is here?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

“My boss called everyone in. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be right with you.”

Nodding, she tamped down her desire to flee.
You wanted help and now you have it. Suck it up, girl and accept what’s coming.

Fifteen minutes later, she was ensconced on a large, overstuffed sofa, Blaise protectively at her side. She looked around in awe at the nine other large, handsome men in the room. They had been introduced but she would never remember all of their names. Bethany, a pretty blonde and Jack’s wife, welcomed her before sitting down with her husband.

Blaise smiled at Bethany, glad that Jack asked her to join them, knowing her presence would have a calming effect on the inquisition.

Reining in her nervousness, she retold her story and then answered their questions to the best of her ability.

No, she did not remember her childhood or parents.

No, she did not remember her job.

No, she did not remember how she came to have a TSA dog.

The man identified as Luke, said, “We can try fingerprinting. We didn’t get any hits on reported missing women, but if she had anything to do with the TSA, they’d have her fingerprints on record.”

She jerked her gaze to Blaise, gaining his approval. Looking back to the dark-haired man, she nodded. “Let’s do it.”

He left the room for a few minutes, coming back with a fingerprint kit. Taking careful prints, he handed her the wipes as he stood.

“Bethany is going to keep you company for a while, Miss, and we’ll be back as soon as we know anything,” Jack said smoothly.

The men stood, all filing out of the room, Blaise leaving last. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “You’ll be fine.” Gaining her nod of acceptance, he followed the others out.

“Come on,” Bethany smiled. “I’ve got a few friends coming over in a little bit. They want to meet you and I was just ready to pull some desserts out of the oven!”

Going willingly, she was tempted by the smell of the berry cobbler, but her mind stayed on the men delving into her identity.

*

Blaise looked around
the table once everyone was in the compound’s conference room. “I really want to thank everyone for coming back in today.”

The sounds of
no problem, anytime, and hell yeahs
resounded around the group. Luke began the process of running her fingerprints through the various databases he had, slurping down more of his juiced-up coffee.

“Gotta tell you, your habit of picking up strays has landed you with a full blown mystery this time,” Marc joked.

“What have you divined from talking to her over the past week?” Monty asked. The former FBI agent’s analytical mind was already calculating the possibilities.

“She’s intelligent. She’s very literate. I’d say, definitely educated,” Blaise began.

“Why didn’t she seek help sooner?” Bart asked. “Why didn’t she immediately go to the police?” A bit of a skeptic, he wanted to know her motives for staying hidden.

“She’s been having nightmares. Says things appear as black…or dark, was her exact words. And she says she wakes up frightened. Doesn’t know who to trust.”

Jude smiled, saying, “Just seeing her in the bar that night, I have to say she cleans up nicely. You’ve done a good thing, man.”

Smiling, Blaise replied, “Giving her access to my shower and all the girlie shit my sister leaves there, you woulda thought I’d given her the best present ever.”

Getting back to business, Jack asked, “If that dog worked for the TSA and she’s the owner or handler…or both, then why did something not come up in the missing report searches earlier?”

Luke, glancing over his shoulder, replied, “If no one reported her as missing, then there’d be nothing to find.”

The Saints pondered that for a moment, before the questions began flying.

“Why would no one report her missing?”

“What about family?”

“What about employers?”

“What the hell?”

Jack lifted his hand, calling for silence. “Let’s work the problem instead of making it more complicated than it already is.”

Cam added, “If she has no immediate family or is estranged from them, there wouldn’t be a report.”

Nodding, Chad added, “The TSA chip could have been implanted before she obtained the dog. Maybe it’s not her dog. Or it is her dog and the TSA was just an added identifier.”

“How’s it going, Luke?” Blaise asked, anxious to find out any information.

“It normally takes about two hours, but I’m narrowing the search down to TSA right now to see if we get a hit.”

The Saints continued to toss around possibilities with no perceivable results until Luke’s voice called out over the group. “Got it,” he stated proudly, followed by a more subdued, “Holy shit.”

Blaise, jumping from his chair, rushed to peer over Luke’s shoulder before he had a chance to project the information onto the screen.

A picture of a smiling, uniformed, dark-haired woman kneeling beside her dog filled the screen. The woman’s smile lit the photograph, piercing Blaise’s heart. His eyes moved quickly over the screen before dropping to the caption underneath.

Grace Kennedy, TSA trainee, and her dog, Gypsy.

I
n the kitchen,
Bethany pulled out two large cobblers from the oven, placing them on cooling racks. “Can you grab some plates? They’re in the cabinet next to you.”

“Sure,” Miss replied, getting two down.

“Oh, we’ll need more than that,” Bethany said, laughing. “You’d better get down about fifteen.”

Eyes wide, she did not have time to say anything before the front door opened and a group of women came in, all chattering away. Their eyes landed on the newcomer and she immediately felt self-conscious. That emotion only lasted a minute as the women instantly welcomed her.

Just like with the men, she knew it would take a while to remember names, but smiled through the introductions anyway.
I won’t be around long enough for it to matter.

A beautiful, curvy blonde with pink, purple, and teal stripes in her hair set down a couple of large white boxes tied with the same colored ribbons. ACH in scrolled letters adorned the boxes. Lifting a questioning gaze to her, the woman grinned. “I’m Angel of Angel’s Cupcake Heaven. Monty’s my fiancé and its been requested that I bring enough to keep all the Saints happy. One mountain man in particular.”

Angel winked and opened the box, allowing Miss to peer inside at the delectable confections. The frosting colors matched the colors in Angel’s hair.

“Have you been to my bakery?” Angel asked. Before Miss had a chance to respond, Sabrina sent a glower Angel’s way.

“Um, I don’t think so,” Miss replied tentatively.

Shrugging, Angel looked apologetically toward Sabrina, mouthing
I thought she might recognize them.

Catching the exchange, Miss shrugged, saying, “I’m sorry, but so far nothing I’ve seen has triggered my memory.”

Though slightly surprised that the women knew about her, she did not let on. She just assumed the men had called the women in to keep her company and shared her story.

A petite, dark-haired, heavily pregnant woman approached. “I’m Miriam, Cam’s wife. I’m also a nurse. Would you allow me to take a look at your injury?”

Her hand flying to her forehead, she grimaced.
It must look horrible.
“Sure,” she agreed, suddenly very self-conscious.

Miriam took her hand and led her to a bathroom down the hall. She sat on the toilet seat, while Miriam began to examine the jagged scar. “Can you tell me about this?”

“I ran off the road…um…in my car…so, um…had an accident about three weeks ago.”

“No medical treatment?”

Sucking in her lips, she replied, “No. I was…confused…scared.”

Miriam smiled gently, soothing, “Of course you were. I think you’re very brave to face what you have faced alone.”

“But you’re not alone anymore,” came the declaration from the hall.

Glancing out, she saw the women all nearby. Bethany stepped forward with some bandages and blushed while saying, “Sorry, but you’ll find in this group, there are few secrets.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, wishing she would be spending more time with the women.
But Gypsy will soon be better and I’ll be back on my way. To where, I have no idea.

Before she had a chance to respond further, Blaise appeared at the door. “Come on, sweetheart. We need to talk.”

The women immediately backed away and a glance passed between him and Miriam. Offering a smile, Miriam said, “I’ll finish this later.”

Blaise closed the bathroom door, wishing for a different location to talk, but wanting to speak to her immediately. He lifted her up onto the counter to raise her closer to his eye level, wanting to keep a check on how she reacted.

“Do…do you know?” she whispered, fear gripping her heart.

Nodding, he said, “Yes. But the answer will only produce more questions. I promise we will find all the answers. But to start with…your name is Grace. Grace Marie Kennedy.”

*

Heart pounding, a
roar in her ears, she sat perfectly still, her eyes fixed on Blaise’s. She did not realize she had not taken a breath until he whispered, “Babe, breathe.”

The air left her lungs in a rush and she raggedly pulled more back in. “Grace? My name is Grace? How can you be sure?”

“I’ll show you our proof when you’re ready, but I wanted a chance to talk to you first.” Lifting his hand to her cold cheek, he caressed her soft skin. “Does the name sound familiar?”

Not answering, she closed her eyes, swaying against the warmth of his hand.
Grace. Grace Marie Kennedy.
She said the name out loud, letting it roll off her tongue, trying it out. Seeing what memories it might invoke.
It doesn’t feel strange…but it doesn’t remind me of anything.