Part One
~~ I ~~
The sounds washed over her as if from a great distance, a pleasantly warm murmur that wrapped itself around her and held her in the darkness. At first nothing more than a blur of noise on the edge of her consciousness, it slowly came into focus, like a radio gradually being tuned to a station's frequency. Voices. That was it . . . she could definitely hear voices.
They became louder and more demanding as they took on a questioning tone. Somebody . . . someone . . . wanted something from her. A wave of sudden panic washed over her – were they trying to get her to divulge information she was supposed to keep secret? And what about Lee? She had a vague sense that he might also be in trouble and wondered if she was supposed to be doing something to help him. Or maybe this whole situation was the result of something she'd already done. Oh, he always got so angry with her when he thought she'd messed up.
She tried to get up but found herself unable to move. Whoever was questioning her had done a thorough job of tying her up. She had no more success when she tried to open her eyes; they must have blindfolded her as well.
A sharp voice cut through the fog clouding her mind. "I'm sorry, but we still haven't been able to determine precisely what drug was used on them. Without that information there's no way to predict exactly what effect it will have."
Drug? Her head throbbed as she tried to sort through the jumble of memories swirling through her mind. Someone had drugged her? No, wait, the voice had said 'them'. So Lee must have been attacked, too.
As she tried again to move her arm, she realized with a shock that she hadn't been tied down at all. It was just that her limbs felt curiously heavy, as if she had been frozen in a block of ice and was only now beginning to thaw out.
"Did you see that?" To Amanda's immense relief the voice that now spoke was unmistakably that of her mother. "I'm sure she moved her fingers." Dotty's voice became louder and Amanda felt a cool, soothing touch as her mother took her by the hand. "Amanda, darling, I'm here. Squeeze my fingers if you can hear me."
Amanda focused her energy on her fingers and concentrated. At last she managed a faint bit of pressure in return before sliding back into the blackness.
She awoke again to find her mother still there, holding her hand and murmuring words of encouragement. How much time had passed? A few minutes? An hour? A day? There was no way of telling. Summoning up all her strength, she was finally able to open her eyes. "Mother," she said hoarsely, struggling to sit up.
"Shh, darling, I'm here." Dotty leaned in and tucked a few pillows behind Amanda's back for support.
"Mother, what . . . where? I can't remember . . ." Amanda shook her head and immediately regretted the move as the vague throbbing behind her temples escalated into full scale pounding. She moaned and sank back down on the bed.
Dotty smoothed down Amanda's hair as if she were still a young child. "Just rest. The doctor said you shouldn't overexert yourself. Now that you're awake again, he'll want to see you." She pressed the call button and waited for the doctor to arrive.
"Look who's decided to join us again." Her doctor was jovially upbeat as he checked Amanda's temperature, pulse and blood pressure and jotted down his findings on her chart.
Dotty watched anxiously throughout his examination, looking visibly relieved when he finished up with a smile and said, "It looks like the worst is over. The lab's still analyzing your blood work, but it looks like you were very lucky." Turning to Dotty, he continued, "Mrs. West, why don't you go home and get some rest yourself. You've been here for hours."
She nodded. "I should let the family know that everything's all right." She gave Amanda's hand one last squeeze and added, "I'm sure the boys will want to come by tonight and see you for themselves, though. Get some rest, darling."
As soon as her mother was out the door, Amanda anxiously inquired, "Doctor, what about . . ." She stopped short, as it suddenly occurred to her that the doctor might not be aware of her connection with the Agency.
His smile quickly put her at ease. "I'll let Mr. Melrose know you've regained consciousness. He'll have plenty of questions for you I'm sure, but I think they can wait until tomorrow morning. And there's an Agency guard posted outside, so you don't have to worry."
"Thank you. But what about . . . Lee Stetson? He was with me." She broke off in confusion. "At least, I think he was." Sinking back down onto her pillow, she let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry, but I'm still not sure exactly what happened."
The doctor nodded. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure this will pass. As for Lee, he woke up about an hour ago and already two nurses on this floor have put in for early retirement. How about I send him down here for a visit after you've had a nap? From what I hear, you've had more luck than anyone in getting around his moods."
She was too tired to manage a laugh but smiled as she drifted off to sleep. That definitely sounded like Lee, all right; the man never changed.
Lee worked his way down the hallway as quickly as he could, given that he was hampered by a pair of crutches. The padding on one of the armpieces slipped down, letting the sharp edge of the wood bite into his armpit. He grimaced slightly and paused long enough to shove the covering back into place. Yet another piece of evidence that the hospital staff was out to get him – not that he'd ever had any doubt on that issue.
He reached Amanda's room and awkwardly shouldered his way through the door. She lay asleep in bed, and he stood there for a moment, quietly contemplating her.
From what Billy had told him over the phone, they'd both been damn lucky. Other than this blasted ankle, apparently they were none the worse for wear. Whatever drug they'd been hit with could have been much more serious.
Amanda stirred slightly in her sleep. Lee watched as she reached out and clutched the edge of the sheet in her hand. She looked so peaceful, almost like a child. Not for the first time, he thought back to the first day they'd met. What had he done to both their lives by asking her for help and dragging her into the Agency?
A rattle at the door interrupted his contemplations. Amanda woke up as a nurse pushed a cart laden with dinner trays into the room.
"And how are we feeling?" the nurse chirped brightly. "Oh, Mr. Stetson, you're here, too. Well, now the two of you can have a nice, cozy dinner together."
There was something about the way she emphasized the word 'cozy' that set off a blip on Lee's internal radar. Frowning, he adjusted that damn padding on his crutch again. It was probably just the standard cheerful nurse routine; it never failed to get on his nerves.
With a parting smile and the suggestion that they enjoy their meals, the nurse wheeled out the cart and closed the door. Lee lowered himself onto the chair next to Amanda's bed.
"If they really want us to be getting well," he groused, "they shouldn't be allowed to feed us this slop." He poked at a lump of pastry, scowling at the bit of beef broth that oozed out.
"I know it's not exactly a home cooked meal, but they do try their best." Amanda yawned, sat up and began investigating the contents of her dinner tray. "Besides, you may be glad to have something to eat later. And Beef Wellington's good cold, too." She paused, holding her fork motionless in midair for a moment as a look of bewilderment flitted over her face.
The sound of Lee dropping his crutches to the floor diverted her attention from whatever had been bothering her. "What happened to your leg?" she asked him, taking a sip of juice.
"I'm not really sure." He replaced the cover over his meal and pushed the dinner tray as far away as possible. "They think I must have twisted my ankle when I . . . we . . . you . . ." He exhaled a long sigh of exasperation. "I'm still not sure what the hell happed to the two of us. How much do you remember?"
"Not much at all." She looked at him with an odd expression on her face, almost as if she was seeing him for the first time. Closing her eyes, she continued, "Every time I try to concentrate, my headache just gets worse."
Lee nodded. "Same here. Hopefully we'll be a little more clear-headed tomorrow morning when Billy stops by."
"I hope so." Amanda stopped picking at her dinner and lay back. "I hate this feeling of not knowing exactly what's going on."
Lee exhaled loudly again. "You and me both."
She glanced at the clock. "I wonder when evening visiting hours start. Mother said she was bringing the boys to see me tonight."
Lee reluctantly reached for his crutches and stood up. "I'll head back to my room then and give you some privacy."
She gave him a weak smile. "Good night, Lee. Try to get some rest."
He nodded and paused for a moment. There was that feeling again, that he was missing something. Was there something he was supposed to do that he was forgetting? Damn, this fuzzy, drugged feeling had him questioning his own instincts now. "Night, Amanda," he mumbled quickly and headed out the door.
The feeling of unease wouldn't leave him, and he hobbled his way down the hallway past his room to the end of the corridor and back again. Pacing wasn't an activity that was made any easier by being on crutches, but it was infinitely preferable to lying in bed.
On his third pass down the hall, he noticed the vending machine at the door to the small alcove labeled "Visitors' Lounge". After caging some change from the Agency guard, he headed back. Maybe a quick infusion of calories and chocolate was what he needed to kick-start his brain.
He scanned the rows of candy bars standing stiffly at attention in their metal brackets, finally settling on a Chewy Chubby bar. Shaking his head, he thought of the time Amanda had 'smuggled' one into another hospital for him. His smile faded as he caught sight of the price. Good God, that was highway robbery! Hospitals must have taken a cue from airports and decided to extort funds from a captive clientele. Small wonder he loathed the places.
"I think it's down this way."
"That's only because you can't follow directions. If you hadn't been flirting with that nurse you would have heard the orderly say that we had to turn right after we got out of the elevator."
Lee looked up as two young men came down the hallway. He took a step further into the alcove to give them enough room to pass.
As they drew closer they caught sight of him leaning against the doorframe. He nodded a polite greeting and turned back to the candy machine, only to have the younger one unexpectedly call out his name. "Lee! We didn't think you'd be up and around."
The taller one laughed and added, "Yeah, but we might have known they'd have had to tie you in bed to get you to rest."
"Uh, I wanted a snack." Lee was a bit taken back by their enthusiastic greetings. They both seemed vaguely familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn't quite place either one. Surely the Agency couldn't be recruiting them that young, but . . . who else would know him here?
"We'll see you in a few minutes then." The older one took a playful swipe at his shoulder then the two of them continued down the hall.
Lee watched them for a few seconds before turning back to the vending machine. Balancing precariously on one crutch, he inserted a quarter into the slot. There was a dull clinking sound and it immediately reappeared in the coin return. He picked up the quarter, reinserted it but with no more luck. Lee sighed. Absolutely nothing was going his way today. He retrieved the coin again and inspected it more closely.
"What the hell?" He stood there staring at it stupidly for a moment then whirled around as quickly as his crutches would allow. At the far end of the hallway he caught a glimpse of the two young men entering Amanda's room. "This is impossible," he muttered and headed down the hall at his fastest hobble.
"Mom, Mom, are you okay?"
Amanda opened her eyes at the anxious tone of Jamie's voice. At least it sounded like Jamie. But this wasn't . . . couldn't be Jamie. Jamie was only . . . She closed her eyes again.
"I'm getting your doctor." She heard him hurry across the room and open the door.
"Mom, maybe you should have something to drink. You don't look so good." Now it was the tall young man who bore an amazing resemblance to Phillip who was anxiously hovering over her, holding out a glass of water.
"I . . . you . . ." she faltered. Jamie returned, without the doctor but at least accompanied by a familiar face.
"Lee," she greeted him in relief. "Lee, what's going on here?"
"I'm not sure." He hurried over to her bed and reached for her hand. "Take a look at this."
"A quarter?" she asked, puzzled.
"Look at the date."
"Oh my gosh." She sat bolt upright in bed. "1992. Lee, this says 1992." She looked into his eyes, seeing in their hazel depths the same confusion and disorientation she felt.
"Lee, what's going on?" Phillip asked. "Why is that such a big deal?"
Lee turned to the boys, no, young men. "Uh, could you fellas give us a moment please?"
"Sure." They exchanged worried glances but headed out the door. Jamie turned back for a minute. "I almost forgot, Emily sent this along and made me promise to give it to you the minute I saw you." With one last puzzled look, he and Phillip went into the hall.
Amanda raised her eyes to Lee. "How long have we known each other?" she asked slowly, a nagging fear growing in the pit of her stomach. For the first time she noticed a few tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, as well as an oddly mature look about him that didn't quite sit right with her.
"Seven weeks," he said promptly, "and four days. Or at least that's what I thought until a few minutes ago." He gestured towards the coin she still clutched between her fingers. "Now I'm not so sure."
"And who's Emily?" She reached out and tentatively fingered the envelope Jamie had placed on her bedside table.
Lee shrugged. "Only Emily I know is a British agent. Why would she be sending us a message here?" He picked up the envelope and ripped it open.
"There has to be something with the date on it somewhere," Amanda muttered to herself as she scanned the room. Catching sight of the clipboard hanging at the foot of her bed, she quickly retrieved it.
"Amanda." She looked up at the strangled tone of Lee's voice.
"Lee, what's wrong?" He looked as if he had been on the receiving end of a sharp blow to the stomach. Swaying slightly, he let his crutches slip out of his grasp and clatter noisily onto the floor. Amanda reached out and grabbed Lee by the arm, easing him onto the bed. "Lee," she shook him anxiously, "what is it?"
Wordlessly, he handed over a single sheet of paper. Amanda frowned as she quickly scanned it over. Crayon? Why would a British agent write a message in crayon? Her eyes widened as she took in the childish scrawl. "Mommy and Daddy, I miss you! Please come home soon."
Mommy and Daddy. Mommy and Daddy. Oh my gosh. No, it wasn't possible. She dropped the paper onto her bed where it landed, obscuring the lower half of her medical chart. Her chart. But . . . that wasn't her name at the top. It said . . .
Amanda clutched at Lee's arm and pointed at the clipboard. In sharp, precise writing the top line read: Amanda . . . Stetson.
TBC
