FORGOTTEN MEMORIES!—8

"Joe," Peggy called softly. "We're home."

He heard her voice and tried to focus on her. His eyes opened and he tried to smile. He knew he'd slept the whole flight yet he still felt exhausted. "H...home," he whispered as he lifted his head from her shoulder.

"That's right," she smiled as she watched his tired eyes focus on her and then on the empty seats around them. "You were so tired we thought we'd let you sleep until the plane was cleared. The stewardess is bringing in a wheelchair."

He nodded slowly and watched as the chair was pushed onto the plane. Art and Peggy helped him into it, carefully avoiding the casts and bandages that still covered the incision on his abdomen. Bandages that Doctor Lewis would remove as soon as he made an appointment to see him. Joe's body was still healing and he knew from experience that he still had a ways to go. The drive home from the airport went easily and he smiled as he spotted the familiar house. A shudder wracked his body as he realized how long he'd been away from his home.

"Peggy, you and Joe stay here," Malcolm ordered as they stopped in front of the house.

"What's wrong, Art?" Mannix asked.

"There's a car parked in front of your house and I want to see who it is," Malcolm explained. "Just stay put."

"We will," Peggy assured him as he exited the car. A smile lit her face as she recognized the man walking toward them.

"Damn," Mannix groaned. "How'd he find out?"

"Dr. Marseilles must have called him," Peggy laughed as the door beside her opened and she slid out of the car.

"Hi, Doc," Mannix smiled weakly as Lewis slid into the seat Peggy vacated seconds before.

"How are you doing, Joe?" Lewis asked worried about the sheen of sweat on the man's brow.

"I'm okay, Doc," Mannix tried to assure him.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Lewis asked as he made a cursory exam of the injured man. He leaned out the door and signaled for Malcolm and another policeman to help extract the patient from the car.

It wasn't long before Joe found himself ushered into his bedroom and the doctor was helping him remove his clothing. He protested but knew it was falling on deaf ears as the other man continued to remove the clothing from his body. He glared at Art Malcolm when he helped the doctor settle him into bed. He was actually grateful for their help, but he wasn't about to let them know how much he was hurting. He couldn't suppress the grimace as his overtaxed body betrayed him.

"I'm going give you a shot, Joe," Lewis said, inserting the needle and injecting the fluid before the injured man had a chance to protest.

"Damn, Doc, that was low," Mannix said as he rubbed his hip. He yawned and knew it wouldn't be long before he fell asleep again.

"Welcome home, Joe." Lewis patted his patient's shoulder and waited to make sure he was out before completing the exam. He sighed as he finished and sat back in a chair. He looked at Malcolm and spoke softly. "He's lucky to be alive."

"I know," the lieutenant agreed as he looked at the man on the bed. Even in sleep Mannix's face would often betray the pain rampaging through his body.

"He's got to give himself a chance to heal."

"That's what Dr. Marseilles told him."

"Are you placing men around..."

"It's already been arranged. The Captain spoke to the commissioner and they agreed to put him under protective custody until we find out who did this to him."

"That's good because right now he wouldn't have the strength to protect himself. Lets go into the other room and let him sleep," Lewis suggested as he pulled the blanket over the sleeping form. The two men left the injured man to rest and sleep.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

'I could have made something of you, Joseph,' her words echoed in his mind as brass knuckles connected with his jaw. He knew he was dreaming again, but the nightmare began to replay once more. The face of the woman tormenting him seemed to grow clearer as he struggled for the elusive features. Each time he felt a new blow she seemed to fade from his mind. Blow by blow she faded until there was nothing left, but the scent of roses and he knew there was something about them he should remember. He groaned as one particularly powerful fist connected with his face. The lights burst like fireworks as his head exploded and his eyes slid shut. He gasped for air, but nothing entered his lungs. He screamed, a cry of primal rage, as something connected with his body, flinging him backwards, to land in a heap on the macadam. Her face swam before his eyes as consciousness left him, her words mocking his every move.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

Joe sat up in the bed, his stomach emptying as he struggled to catch his breath. He kept his eyes closed and tried to get his breathing under control. Pain lanced through his side as his healing ribs were tested once more. His head kept up a staccato rhythm as drummers led a band through the center of his skull. He felt hands on his body as he was slowly eased back to the bed, and smiled at the face of the angel above him. "Thanks, Peggy," he whispered as she sat beside him. Mannix knew she'd been the one to keep him going during his kidnapping. Those memories were finally clear. Each time he'd been ready to give up, her face was there, her soothing voice speaking the words he longed to hear. She was his angel and he would find a way to keep her safe from whoever was out to kill him. "I won't let them hurt you," he whispered as he surrendered to sleep once more.

Peggy sat beside him on the bed, her dark eyes ripe with unshed moisture as she touched his cheek. She knew he was still suffering from nightmares and wished there was something she could do to help him. She looked up as Art Malcolm and Dr. Lewis came into the room.

Lewis moved to check his patient. "What happened?" he asked.

"Nightmares," Peggy answered simply.

"He'll have those for a while," Lewis smiled at her as he checked his patient once more. He slowly lifted the blanket back over him and stood up, stretching the kinks out of his back. Joe Mannix was a patient he was seeing too much of lately, one who continually put his life on the line in order to help others. Most of the time, the others were people he didn't know. People who didn't care what happened to him as long as they got what they wanted. He glanced at the woman in the room, a beautiful lady who was finally facing the fact that she loved this man. In an age ripe with violence and prejudice he hoped and prayed these two could survive whatever was thrown their way. Shaking his head he realized the violence was something that would always be around, but the prejudice would someday be defeated. He hoped he would be alive to see that day come. A lot of changes were wrought in the years since segregation, but there was still a ways to go. "I'll come back to check on him tomorrow. Call me if he needs anything at all."

Peggy stood up and followed the doctor to the door. "Thank you," she said softly.

Lewis nodded as he opened the door. "Peggy, he's going to be okay."

"I know," she whispered.

"I've left some pills on his dresser. They'll help with the pain, but if it becomes to much for him give me a call."

Peggy smiled as the doctor left. She hurried back to the bedroom, stopping at the door as she noticed Art Malcolm sitting protectively in the chair by his friend's bed. Somehow she knew as long as he was there no one would get close enough to hurt the man she cared so much about. Sighing she went to the kitchen to make coffee for the silent vigil she knew was to come.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

Al smiled as she listened to her man report on the progress of Joe Mannix. She paid well for loyalty and this man was her ace in the hole. A fifteen year police veteran who'd managed to get himself deep in debt and would've been killed by a loan shark if not for her generosity. If that was the only thing she held over him he would've gladly taken his chances, but he'd been involved with a college hazing incident that lead to the death of a fellow student and she was threatening to turn the evidence over to the DA. He stood before her, his hands knotted into fists by his side as he looked at the ex-mob leader.

"How long are they going to keep him under protective custody?" she asked as she sipped from the brandy decanter.

"I don't know for sure, Mrs Pulverante."

"Find out," she ordered. "I need to know when the heat is off."

"The heat might not be off for a long time. Joe Mannix has a lot of friends..."

"Including you, Daniel," she laughed at the angered look on his face, laughing as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "You know what will happen to you if anyone finds out what I'm up to."

Daniel Martin, Danny to his friends, couldn't meet the woman's eyes. He knew they were filled with anger and he knew the anger was directed toward Joe Mannix, a man he admired and respected. He hated what he was doing, but his own sense of self preservation was stronger than his loyalty to a friend. "I know," he answered softly.

"Good, you make sure you keep me abreast of all the news."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"How is he feeling?"

"He's still suffering from headaches."

"That's good," she smiled maliciously. "When do the casts come off?"

"In two weeks."

Her eyes sparkled as her need for revenge shone on her face. "Two weeks, Joseph. Two weeks and the games will begin anew. Make sure you let me know if anything changes. In the meantime don't let anything happen to Joseph. He needs to be healthy for our next meeting. Now get out of here."

Martin moved to the door, knowing he was betraying everything he held dear. There was no choice for him, he'd dug his own grave, but Joe Mannix would be the man who lied in it.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

"Joe, you sure you're up to this?"

"Peggy, I've never been so sure of anything," Mannix answered, a cocky half grin on his face. "Besides it's time I got mobile again."

"All right, but you let Art and Willis do the work. Dr. Lewis doesn't want you putting any pressure on your arm or leg yet."

"Peggy!"

"I know, Joe," she laughed. "Stop being a mother hen. You just stay put for a minute until everything is ready for you."

"Yes, Mom," he smiled and let his head fall back against the pillows. The headaches were finally getting to the point where they were more of an annoyance than anything, and he refused the pain meds. It was two and a half weeks since he returned home. The casts were removed and he was scheduled to begin physiotherapy to help regain his freedom. He was under orders to take it easy, but those words were not in his vocabulary. He was going to do his damndest to get back on his feet and find out who was behind his kidnapping. The woman's face was still not clear, but sometimes he'd get a glimpse of dark hair and eyes. 'Not much of a description,' he thought.

"Joe, are you ready?" Malcolm asked as he entered the room.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Art," Mannix answered, his gaze falling on the electric wheelchair beside the bed.

Peggy watched the look on his face, knowing he hated the idea of being in the chair. "It won't be for long, Joe. The doctor wants to make sure you don't do anything foolish."

"Me, do something foolish, Peggy?" His comment was met with laughter from the three people in the room with him.

"All right, Willis, you get his left side. Now, Joe, let us do the work…you just relax for a minute."

"I don't seem to have much choice, Art." Joe tried to relax his body. Muscles and joints, stiff from misuse protested the move, but he breathed through it. He knew he was a long way from being healthy, but at least now he'd be able to do some things for himself.

Art and Willis lowered him into the chair and waited for his eyes to open. The dull sheen of sweat on his forehead gave mute testimony to the pain he was still suffering despite his verbal denials.

"Give it a few minutes, Joe. After being in the bed most of the last six weeks it's natural for you to feel weak and dizzy."

"T...thanks, Peg," he said, resting his head against the back of the chair until the nausea and dizziness disappeared. Finally, his eyes opened, and he smiled at the worried faces surrounding him. "Hey, I'm okay," he assured them.

"Sure you are," Malcolm laughed. "Where would you like to go now that you're in the chair?"

"My office."

"Joe!"

Mannix reached for her hand, his face serious, his eyes angered. "Look, Peggy, someone took a part of my life from me and that someone is still out there. No one's been able to turn up any leads and until my memory comes back this person thinks she's safe. Maybe by going over my files it'll jog my memory. I'm tired of feeling helpless," he pushed a button and moved to the window, a sigh escaping his lips. "She's out there somewhere and she means to make something out of me," his words were soft and barely reached the ears of the other people in the room. 'Who are you?' he thought as her voice echoed in his head. 'I could have made something of you, Joseph.'

Peggy, Art, and Willis stood watching the pale man as he stared out the window. The change in his body in the three months since his disappearance was drastic to their eyes. The weight loss and the pale color were evidence of the ordeal he endured and was still enduring. They knew nightmares plagued him despite his efforts to keep it from them.

"Joe."

He turned from the window, a thin smile formed by pale lips as he spoke. "I'm okay, Peg. I just need to do this. It's time to find out who she is and get my life back."

"You're not strong enough to go after her."

"I'm not going after her, Peggy. At least not physically. I am going to go through those files and find out as much as I can. I know whoever she is I'll find her in my papers." He looked back to the window and sighed heavily. "She's out there and she's waiting for the opportunity to finish what she started. I don't aim to sit back and let her come to me. I'm going after her! Art?"

Malcolm walked over to the window and gazed into the sad eyes of his friend. "What is it, Joe?"

"I need your help."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want access to some police records and pictures."

"Joe..."

"Art, look, the answers are here," he snapped, pointing to his head. "Buried inside and I need something that's going to jog my memory."

"Joe, I was only going to say it would take a couple of hours to make arrangements to bring you downtown," Malcolm smiled at the younger man.

"Thanks, Art."

"Anytime, Joe."

"I made lunch, Joe," Peggy informed him.

"I'm not that hun..."

"Joe, you have to eat."

Mannix held up his left hand, a smile finding its way to his face. "Easy, Peg, I was just going to say I'm not that hungry, But I can do with a little something."

"Oh," she said as she led the way out the door.