Chapter 4

I walked into the dining area of the boat and was greeted by the warm smell of garlic bread, great Italian alfredo, and roasted chicken. The smell was so alluring, I felt like I will pass out and go straight to heaven. I got to the table and sat down.

Jason came towards me and put a nice piece of chicken in my plate, complemented it with the Italian alfredo and the still lukewarm garlic bread. He filled my glass with red wine and I brought the glass to my lips. Normally, I would drink some hard whiskey or something of that sort, but I'll drink the wine simple for his efforts.

He put food into his own plate, which was stationed at the opposite end of the table, and sat down.

I put my fork in my food and glanced up at him. "So, when I asked you which direction to search in, you said south. Why was that?"

"I don't know, the logical direction would be east actually, but that has been searched by the last PI, and so was the west. I guess I just chose south for no apparent reason."

"Instincts. I get it. Some say instincts are always right."

"They are. Sam has– had great instincts."

"Has. Present tense. You still think she's alive?"

Jason looked at me questioningly but didn't answer for a few seconds. Then he looked down at his food and spoke, "It was just a mixup. I meant to say one thing but said something else, that's all."

Now it was my turn to look at him questioningly. I saw his facial expression harden into an unreadable grin. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but I could still manage to read it. "You still think she's alive. You don't want to think that. You don't want the false hope. But you're thinking it anyways."

"It's logical to assume that she's gone," he said as he took a large drink of red wine. I could tell that he wanted to drop the subject, it was hurting him. But I wanted to pressure him more. When he saw that I wasn't going to give up on that conversation, he stared into my eyes and spoke, "Fine, I believe Sam's alive. But that's only an instinct thing. And I think she's close by, that's also an instinct thing."

"I was never one to argue with instincts." I took a small sip of the wine, I would have preferred whisky. "There's something you're not telling me, what is it?"

Jason released a sigh. "There was a storm that night, I don't remember which direction it was coming from, but there was a storm. It could have killed her. But like I said, instinct tells me other wise, though logic would say we need to continue to search the waters."

"Why did you choose to search south?"

"Most storms in October happen to be coming from the north, in order to escape she would have had to go south."

I looked down at my empty plate. The food had been great and I was as full as a stuffed animal. Then I looked up at Jason and read his expression. "There's something else you're hiding. What is it?"

He reached across the table and put his hand on mine. Though his touch was light, I could feel his muscles tighten and if I were to try to pull away, his grip would tighten and prevent me from moving. I felt a shocking ripple going from my hand to my arm and somehow ending up going down my back. I knew that whatever he was about to tell would be a shocker.

"Cirra, I have a feeling that Sam's still alive. And I think I know who and where she is." His grip tightened on my hand. "I think you might be Sam."

I stood up so fast my head started spinning. I tried to pull my hand away but his grip squeezed it hard and he stood up too. I glanced up at him. "It's impossible, you've lost your mind."

"Why is it so impossible? You have her eyes. Sam's the only person who can read me, and you can read me too."

"Jason, that is the most irrational thing I have ever heard. And you are a logical person."

He let go of my hand and I let out a breath. I didn't even know I was holding it in. After he crossed his arms across his chest, he said, "How did you know I was a logical person? Ever since you met me I was acting irrational."

I felt like a brick has dropped on my head. How did I know he was logical? I probably would believe him about me being Sam, but there was one problem. "The time doesn't match up," I said calmly. "Sam disappeared in October three years ago. I woke up in the hospital in March two and a half years ago. I can't be Sam."

Jason seemed to think for a moment and a disappointed expression covered his face like a theater mask. "You're right. I must have over reacted. Sometimes, instincts could be wrong. Sorry."

"No problem." I headed for the door. "Lets just forget about this conversation and lets just continue the search tomorrow morning." I walked out of the room and headed to the bedroom he had arranged for me. I locked the door behind myself once I go inside, I didn't want him, or anyone, to disturb me.

---

Sweat.

Confusion.

Fear.

Hope.

After tossing and turning in bed like a twisting cat, I sat up in the bed and reached for my cell phone. I knew I wouldn't be able to get any sleep until I made the call and got the information I needed. I dialed the number.

After the fourth ring, Morales picked up. "Hello?" he asked in a sleepy voice and fallowed it with a yawn.

"It's Cirra, I need help."

Silence. When he spoke, his voice was more alert, "What is it?"

"You're a detective. Detectives get more information then private investigators, I need info."

"What kind of info?"

"I need for you to search for something. I need to find out if any fisher women, boat factory employees, or salvage agents have disappeared between two and a half and three years ago."

"Why?"

"That might be part of my identity. I found out I'm into boats and I'm good at maintaining them. And I salvaged a diamond ring."

"Okey. Is that all?" There was another yawn coming from Morales and then I heard his wife mumble something. I felt sorry for waking them both up, I really did, but I had an urgent need for information. And damn it, I couldn't sleep until I was sure that I wasn't Sam McCall.

"No, there's also something else." I heard him mutter a curse word under his breath. "I need you to contact the hospital where I woke up and ask for how was I found, where, and when? I realized that when I woke up, I was too shocked with the memory loss to find out the information. And if anyone did tell me, I was too out of it to remember."

"When do you want this?"

"As soon as possible. Call me when you get it." I hung up. Now, if only I could fall asleep.

---

The seagulls flew around the boat and the room where I was sleeping was filled with sounds. Buzzing, ringing. What the hell was it? I opened my sleepy, blurry eyes and let them adjust to the light before reaching for my cell phone to see the clock on the phone screen. I looked at the screen. "Morales Cell". So that was what the buzzing ringing was. It was a call.

"Hello?" I asked answering the phone.

"Now you know what it feels like to wake up extremely early."

"Stop bull shitting, what time is it?" I rubbed my head.

"It's five thirty in the morning. I got the information you requested."

Now I was suddenly fully awake. I sat up in bed and tightened my grip on the phone. "What did you find out?"

"First things first, the missing water people. None were missing boat factory employees. I didn't find any fisher women also, they were all men. There was one missing fisher woman, but she disappeared after you woke up. Now for the salvage thing. Three women went missing in California, five in Florida, one in New York, and one in Maine."

I woke up in Maine. That was a possibility. "Who was the Maine one?"

"She's a thirty three year old Montana native who lived in Maine for the past seven years. Five feet, three inches. Brown eyes, black hair. Could be you, I couldn't find a large picture. But the hair and eye color matches."

"That's great, what's her name?"

"Susanna Monroe," Morales said. "She was last seen on her boat on October 10th, three years ago."

"That's great. Good work, Morales." Though the date was inconvenient. I woke up in March, she had disappeared in October.

"There's something else." He sounded serious when he said it, "I checked out the background of the New York woman, she also could be you."

"I'm listening."

"The woman would be twenty nine right now. She's a North Carolina native, lived in NY for three years in Port Charles. She's five feet three inches, brown eyes, black hair. Last seen on her boat October 9th three years ago. Name's Samantha McCall."

Shit. I was speechless. I couldn't even mutter a word. My jaw dropped open. Jason's suspicions were confirmed by Morales. But then again, there was that damn time difference.

"Hello? Cirra? Are you still there?"

"Umm." I cleared my throat and concentrated. "Yeah. Thanks. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I checked with the hospital. Though you woke up March 23rd, you were brought in October 11th. You were found laying on the sands of a beach. There was a large amount of water in your lungs. You have been in the water, Cirra, same as those two women. You could be any one of them." He paused for a second. "Oh, and there's something else. I checked the weather records. Apparently, the night of Samantha McCall's disappearance, there was a really large storm. Now normally, during that season the winds are from the north, but that day they blew from the south. They were caused by a tornado that was in another state further south, and it was moving north. The tornado weakened into a large storm. So that would make it possible for Ms. McCall to end up in Maine. But also, Mr. Monroe was salvaging a boat in the same waters on the same beach where you were found."

"Um." I was still shocked. "Thanks, Morales. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. I'll try to find more info." He hung up.

I hung up the cell phone and threw it on the bed, my arm dropped to my side and I stared at a blank wall as if seeing something particular.

Susanna Monroe.

Samantha McCall.

Cirra McDuff.

I wasn't sure which one I was or which one I wanted to be. Still shocked. What should I tell Jason? Should I tell him that he might be right?

No. I wouldn't want him to get his hopes up and then find out that I might be Susanna. But what if I were Sam? I must admit that something about Jason has struck me as familiar. But now the shock has gave me hope and confusion.

Was I Jason's long lost love?

Maybe.

But if I was, why didn't seeing him trigger my memory to come back?