Dear Reader
Excerpt from Crime Scene Secrets by Maggie K. Black
ONE
She opened her eyes. It was dark, but above her, she could make out a low, rocky ceiling, uneven and damp in the dim light. Cold. She was cold. The chill from the uneven ground below her seeped through her clothes. Something poked at her back. She looked to one side then the other, taking in the dark rocks that surrounded her. She in...a cave? Why was she lying in a cave?
She lifted her head to sit up but froze as the dull throb at the back of her skull began to pound. Propping herself on one elbow, she reached behind her head with her other hand and touched the spot that the pain radiated from. She winced as her fingers touched something wet and sticky. She squinted at the dark red on her fingertips in the dimness. Blood.
Slowly, she pushed herself to sitting, trying to ignore the throbbing at the back of her head. A wave of nausea passed through her, starting in her stomach and traveling up to her throat. Not a good sign. A few deep breaths and some of the nausea subsided. Good. She needed to get up, to keep going, to protect herself.
Protect. The word ran through her mind, setting off a cascade of uneasiness, an unsettled feeling that something was wrong. Really wrong. She needed to find somewhere where she was safe. Because she wasn’t safe here. The idea turned inside her and she tuned in to that feeling deep down that her life had been fundamentally shaken. She drew in a quick breath as a surge of energy took over, a drive to run, to escape, but when she tried to focus her mind, to grab hold of details, some basis for this fear, there was nothing there—just a hazy, nebulous dread that burned through her.
Standing seemed like a dangerous proposition at this point. Better to stay low to the ground until the nausea ebbed. She faced the dim opening of the cave and began to scoot herself forward. She stretched out her legs then lifted her body forward with her hands. Once. Twice. If she moved slowly, her head didn’t throb as much, so she continued toward the entrance. As she drew closer, she could make out the general view: a sky thick with heavy clouds, more rock, and a light layer of new snow covering sets of footprints. The latter was strange—how many times had she wandered in and out?—but nothing she saw was particularly helpful in jogging her memory. She stopped a few feet from the snow, brushed off her hands and touched the back of her head again at the tender spot. The blood was dark enough to make her suspect that she’d been lying in the cave for a while.
She stared at her hand, at the blood, searching for some inkling of how she’d gotten to this point. How could she not know? She turned her hands over to inspect them. Her nails were a pale beige and the polish looked fresh and unchipped. As she took in the details of her fingers, something caught her eye. There was a faint tan line across the fourth finger of her left hand, lighter than the rest of her skin, as if a wedding ring belonged there. Except there was no ring. A truth appeared in her head, fully formed, certain and unbearably heavy. Her husband was dead. She was a widow.
The idea was a punch to her gut, and she doubled over as pain and fear grew into a tidal wave that crashed over her. Stars appeared as her vision faded into blackness, threatening to sweep her under forever. And then, just as suddenly as the emotions came on, they faded into a haze in her brain, leaving only that unsettled feeling that something was wrong. Deeply wrong. Everything else was gone.
She blinked as new understanding set in. It wasn’t just where she was or how she’d gotten there that was a mystery. She didn’t know who she was either. A new wave of panic rose inside her, enough to make her gasp. What had happened to her?
“It will all come back in a minute,” she whispered aloud. “It has to.”
The sound of her own voice was grounding, familiar. She took a steadying breath. There had to be something else familiar around her, something that would trigger her memories. She looked down, taking in more details about herself. Gray wool slacks, fancy lace-up black boots that weren’t holding up well in the weather, and a darker gray wool coat... Why was she wearing nice clothing in a cave? She patted herself down and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, searching for personal items. From one pocket she pulled out two snack-size bags of almonds, and from the other, a folded wad of tissues and a car key. The Cadillac logo on the fob was familiar. It was hers, that much she was certain about, but no memories of the specific car—or where she’d left it—came to mind. She stared at the contents of her pockets, bewildered. These items were so practical, and yet she hadn’t brought along the basics like a phone or a driver’s license. Did she have a handbag?
She swung around to search the cave floor and her headache pounded back to life. She squeezed her eyes closed until it receded. Opened them again. This time she took it slower, peering into the shadowy corners. The cave was empty. No handbag in sight.
Her stomach growled. She was hungry and thirsty, in that order. Maybe, after a little food and water, her memories would come back. She tore open one of the bags of almonds and gobbled them up. The turn of her stomach told her that it had been a while since her last meal. She moved to open the second bag then reconsidered. How far was she from more food? It was probably best to save it. Instead, she scooped up a handful of snow that looked clean and put it in her mouth, letting it melt. It chilled her throat enough to make her shiver. Which was the greater danger, dehydration or the cold? She grabbed one more handful, swallowed the icy liquid, and resisted another.
Instead, she tried to focus again. Her name? Her family? Where she lived? All of that was gone, and the more questions she asked herself, the more she realized she didn’t know. Her identity, her memories, her life—all of it was gone.
She swallowed as a new wave of uneasiness ran through her, edged with dread, telling her there was danger outside the cave, too. She tried to search her mind for where this feeling was coming from, but it was as if a fog hovered over her memories, dark, dense and impenetrable. She could stay in the cave until some clue about herself came back, but how long could she do that with no food?
Her breaths were coming in shallow pants, and each beat of her heart signaled a warning, loud and relentless. Run. Stars flickered on the edges of her vision, dark and fuzzy, as her chest tightened...
“Please, Lord, help me.” She whispered the words aloud. Just speaking them was cool relief from the torment of her thoughts. She had God, and the thought comforted her. Her voice itself and the words of prayer were hers, something to hold on to.
She took a long, steadying breath and blew it out. Again. Her heartbeat slowed and the panic ebbed in her chest. She could breathe again. That one thought turned her fear into determination.
She was going to figure this out. Every time she panicked, she was going to focus every ounce of her energy on the thought that God was there for her, even at a time like this. Especially at a time like this.
She looked outside again, this time attempting to study the landscape clinically. Though the boulders obscured her view, she was pretty sure there was a downhill slope. She leaned forward, sticking her head out of the cave, and the tops of tall pine trees came into view. Was she in the mountains? If she ventured out a little farther, maybe she could get a better view, just enough to see if there was some sign of civilization around. She’d turn around before she panicked because the cave, however cold and hard, was at least dry. And whoever she was scared of hadn’t found her. Yet.
She glanced down at her boots again. They were too fancy to wear for a run through a snowy forest. Which meant that running through the forest was the last thing she had thought she would be doing today. At least she wasn’t wearing heels. It was the first positive thought she’d had since she’d awoken, and she held on to it.
Determination mixed with a burst of energy from the food. She took one more handful of snow, letting the icy water cut a trail down her throat, then pushed up to standing slowly. Her head only gave a slight protest. She took a step into the snow, fighting the fear that pumped through her.
“Ignore it,” she whispered and focused on what was in front of her.
Despite the warnings going off in her head, she continued, making tracks in the fresh snow. She stopped just before rounding the boulder, debating what she should be looking for. Somewhere with food, where she could take shelter from the cold. But if she found a place, how would she know it was safe? And therein lay the crux of the problem. Without her memory, she’d need help, but how did she know who was safe?
“One problem at a time,” she muttered to herself. “Worry about that when you actually find shelter.”
She peeked around the boulder. Heavy fog masked the landscape, a misty blur of white and gray. Nothing in sight was jogging her memory. The clouds rolled over the mountain, dark, thick puffs that engulfed the trees. She was lost in the clouds, both literally and metaphorically. The corners of her mouth tugged up at the thought. At least she hadn’t lost her sense of humor, too.
Downhill seemed like her best bet, so she took a step forward. Another. Just as she rounded the thick boulder, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. But as she whipped around to look, a large black glove clamped over her mouth. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. She screamed into the cold leather, then gasped for air and screamed again, but only a muffled cry came out. The person—his deep grunt told her it was a man—tightened his hold.
Who was this man waiting outside a cave for her?
He pulled her against his chest with his other arm. Her heart skittered as she fought against his grasp, trying to get loose. She used her elbows to jab backward but, between her wool coat and the puff of the man’s down jacket, it was impossible to land anything that mattered. Panic was taking over again. She tore at the arm clamped around her waist, but he was bigger and stronger than she was. It wouldn’t budge. She kicked behind her and found the hard bone of his shin with her soggy boot. He grunted out a curse.
She froze as his voice resonated inside her. She knew that voice. I know my attacker. The panic rose like a tidal wave then crashed down on top of her. Stars edged her vision and her body sagged...
God is with me. That truth, strong and clear, echoed in her mind.
The man shifted and she was startled back to consciousness. Escape. The only thing that was important right now.
She dragged her legs under her, stomped on his foot and pushed backward. It worked. He stumbled back until their movement came to a jolting stop as they hit something. The boulder. The man’s arm loosened from her waist, flailing at the edges of her vision. He was losing his balance, falling, and he was taking her with him. He stumbled and tipped, and let out another curse in that same, sickeningly familiar voice. She froze as the panic spiked inside her. Stars came back, closing in again. This time, she fought against it, fought against whatever memory was surfacing as they both hit the ground with a thud. Her head pounded and she gulped in another breath of air. She wriggled and scrambled away and screamed.
“Help! Help me!”
She climbed to her feet, her sopping-wet boots slipping in the packed snow, and behind her she heard the rustling of outerwear. He was right behind her. Her knees buckled. She hit the snow.
No. She would not crumble under this fear.
She stood and ran downhill, into the fog. Everything inside her wanted to turn around, to see the man who had captured her, but she knew she couldn’t. If she turned back, she’d never escape.
The wind swept up the mountain in an icy gust and snow stung her face. She squinted out into the storm as she plowed through the snow, looking for something besides trees and rocks. Her head throbbed and her legs felt like they were disconnected from her body. How long could she run like this? But as she rounded a clump of low trees, she caught a glimpse of something else on the mountainside below. Was that...a shack? A cabin? It disappeared behind the clouds as quickly as it appeared. Had she imagined it? She wasn’t sure, but still she ran toward that spot, willing the clouds to part again.
