CHAPTER FOUR

Lindsay Monroe paced the bullpen. Danny had been missing for a little over half a day. It was killing her. Mac kept calling to get road reports, but every time he got the same answer- that the roads were closed, and they probably wouldn't be open until sometime later that day. By then, it would be dark outside.

Not that it mattered to her, any. She would rent snowshoes and walk the entire way there if it got her to Danny faster.

"Hey, kiddo," Stella Bonasera said as she came in. "Brought you lunch."

"Thanks," Lindsay said, never taking her eyes off the cityscape. She hugged herself. She felt an arm on her shoulder. "Hey, Lindsay. He'll be just fine. Don't worry."

"I hate being stuck here," Lindsay said. "Out in Montana, we still drive to school with three feet of snow on the ground."

Stella smiled. "Yeah, unfortunately, in New York, three inches of snow shuts us down for good. They'll clear it out soon."

"But if he's stuck in a ditch somewhere...I mean, would Danny even know what to do if he got stuck in snow?"

"Lindsay, Danny's a fighter. For all we know, he'd make an igloo and weather it out," Stella said lightly. "Come on. Let's eat. I know you haven't eaten in a good six hours."

"Thanks, Stel," Lindsay said, "but I think I'm gonna stay right here," she said, turning back to the window to watch the snowplows work thirty-five floors below her.


He was in awe of the snow. He stood in a borrowed pair of work boots and a jacket, watching Cady and Jason play in the snow. It had warmed up some, probably somewhere in the 20s. He watched them as they made tracks in the snow. An image came back to him- Casting footprints in the snow, different colors of spray paint. Mac telling him one time, "This is the best forensic tool money can't buy. Forensics. Suddenly, he looked at the footprints in the snow again. Mom's probably a size seven or so, and judging by the depth of the print, she's not very heavy. Hundred thirty pounds, maybe. Kiddo over there probably weighs seventy pounds, tops. He shook his head and smiled to himself. Where in the hell did that come from? He directed his attention back to Cady and Jason. Both were covered in snow. Cady grabbed Jason around the waist and tossed him into the snow. He laughed as he threw two handfuls of snow at her in retaliation.

Do I have a family somewhere? he wondered. Is there anybody out there looking for me? Why would someone run me off the road and try to put a bullet in me? He laughed as Cady fell flat on her butt in the snow, and Jason rubbed snow in her hair. Am I putting them in danger by staying here? Cady looked over at him with a smile. He found himself smiling back. He looked around at the mountains miles away from Cady Holliday's backyard. Sure is beautiful out here.

"Come on!" Jason's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey! Come play with us!"

He smiled as he stepped off the porch to join them. Maybe if he got pegged in the head with a snowball, it might jostle his memories.


The three returned to the house an hour later, frozen solid and completely soaked. Cady let Jason have the shower first, promising hot food when he got out. "This is the second time in less than 24 hours you've been completely soaked on my account," Cady apologized to her houseguest.

"It was worth it," he replied. "I had fun."

Cady disappeared into the laundry room and returned with his clothes. "These are yours from last night," she said. She handed him a pair of jeans, a green T-shirt and a battered leather motorcycle jacket. "If you are from the city, you didn't pay much attention to the weather forecast. That jacket can't be all that warm."

"It does the job," he said without even thinking. "I live in that thing."

"Do you have a bike?" Cady pressed, seeing the signs that he was remembering something.

He thought about it. Sitting on the Harley Davidson in the middle of the street, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Watching for someone to come out of a building. A young man comes out, starts down the sidewalk. He sees a young woman following him. He climbs off the bike, keeps a safe distance behind her.

"A Harley," he said finally. He chuckled. "I'm from the city, I ride a Harley. Why can't I get something useful, like my driver's license."

"If the weather keeps up, I'm going to try to walk down to the road, try to get your things out of the rental car," Cady said. "It's about a mile or so down the road." She opened up the cupboard, pulled out a family-size can of soup. "I've never seen Jason smile like that," she noted as she poured it into the kettle. "He hasn't been that happy since..." She trailed off.

He caught it. "If you don't mind my asking...how did your husband die?"

"It's okay. I don't mind. Jack...he, ah, his truck was found on the side of the road. Someone had shot him in the chest. The police chief said he thought it looked like Jack had pulled off to help someone else, and the someone else robbed him. They took his wallet. Jack had bruises on his knuckles, they thought he'd tried to fight back."

"Any suspects?" he asked.

"Not a one," Cady replied. "Thought maybe the attacker was just passing through town, saw Jack on the road and got lucky."

"Did they cast the tire treads?" he asked her. "Or look at the bullet?"

She looked at him. "We're a little primitive up here," she said shortly. "You talk like you know what you're doing."

He shrugged as he explained his earlier observations about the footprints.

Cady shook her head. "You sure don't look like a forensics guy," she said.

Jason popped his head into the kitchen, his hair wet and wild from his shower. "All done, Momma!" he announced. He looked over at the stranger. "You can go next," he offered.

"Think I will," he replied, standing and taking his clothes with him. He needed to think. He was also sure he had offended Cady somehow. He stepped into the bathroom, which was still steamy from Jason's shower. He closed the door and turned on the water. He stripped down to his borrowed boxers and rubbed a hand over the fogged mirror, clearing it. Staring back at him was a man with a goatee, dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a pair of dog tags around his neck, and he had a tattoo on his right shoulder. Tattoo... He had a tattoo on his back. Tanglewood. The name mean anything to you? My brother Louie was a Tanglewood Boy.

He hit the mirror with a flat hand. "This is all worthless," he complained to no one. "Who the hell am I?"

Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the reviews, I appreciate each and every one of them. Like it, love it, hate it, puh-lease review!