Silent Vows (MacCoinnich Time Travel Trilogy #2)(5)
Author: Catherine Bybee

A true victim didn’t bring anything on him or herself, they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Without a doubt, Todd knew Jane’s misery was because of someone else. Someone she had a great dislike for, and most likely a damn good reason behind it.

The nurse’s aide knocked on the door and brought her dinner tray in. “Hey, gorgeous. How are you tonight?” The aide’s nametag said ‘Joe’. He smiled at his patient and ignored them.

Tears flowed from Jane Doe’s eyes. “Hi, Joe,” she managed to choke out.

Joe’s flash of anger surprised Todd when he finally looked at them. Interesting, she’s already managed to find friends.

“Hey, if you want to have me kick these guys out, I can,” Joe said.

“We were just leaving.”

“She’s been through enough, don’t you think?”

Joe blurted out, his jaw set in tight anger.

“Thank you for your protection, Joe,” Myra told him. “It’s not their fault.”

“All right. But if you need me, just call.” He set the food tray on the table, walked away and glared at Todd.

She pushed the tray to the side.

Jake asked her, “Our sergeant asked us to take a picture of you. Would that be okay?”

She nodded and flinched when the flash of the camera went off.

“We’ll run this through the system, see what comes up.”

She waited until the staff finished their rounds for the evening before she took out her bag and emptied its contents on the bed.

The sacred stones that moved her through time looked like ordinary rocks, ones found on any plain in the Highlands. Closer examination revealed words written in Gaelic, identifying them as something sacred, something cherished.

Wrapped in linen were a set of candlesticks beautifully carved and encrusted with precious stones. They were a sacrifice for her family to part with, but Tara had insisted that she come to the twenty-first century with something to barter for currency.

“My world runs on money, without it you have nothing,” Tara had said. After many hours of watching the television, Myra understood what Tara meant.

Myra decided to leave the hospital in the morning. The list of places taking in people like her, people with no family or home, was long. She’d surely find a place to stay among them. Myra fingered the list of shelters.

With any luck, she could find a buyer for her wares and be able to pay her way.

Having a plan or at least a direction in which to move, Myra put all her belongings back into the bag, sat in the chair next to the window, and waited for sunrise.

The next day was Todd’s day off, but instead of kicking back with a football game, beer and pizza, Todd sat at his desk cross-referencing the names he and Jake had uncovered in their Jane Doe investigation. Gwen Adams had several hits on the internet, mainly in reference to the Renaissance Fairs she ran throughout the country. A few photos of the woman came through, none of which were flattering. Her identification card and social security number had different birthdays, indicating that maybe Ms.

Adams was trying to conceal something.

He looked again at the picture of a woman well in her 80’s, and racked his brain over what she could possibly be hiding.

Either way, her disappearance occurred the same weekend in July that Tara McAllister vanished, the only fact connecting the two women.

Now Jane Doe showed up with an accent matching the men with whom McAllister was last seen. The puzzle had just become more complicated.

Too many coincidences made for connections.

Instinct told him he was on the right track.

Jane’s ghostly expression when he mentioned the old woman’s name sent a chill down his spine.

Todd’s eyes started to blur. He sat back, rubbed the back of his neck, and reached for his coffee.

On the way home, he turned his car in the direction of Anaheim General. He would question why later, but for now he needed to see her again.

Her expressions the night before haunted his dreams and kept him awake most of the previous night.

He walked the familiar path to her room, this time in a sweatshirt and blue jeans. The badge bunnies who ogled him less than fifteen hours before didn’t give him a passing glance.

He eased open the door in case Jane was sleeping, but the room was empty. The bed was stripped of its linen and the counters void of clutter.

Only a housekeeper was there, mopping the floor.

“Excuse me, where did they move the woman from this room?”

The Hispanic woman stopped, and replied in broken English, “She not moved, she discharged.”

Discharged? His brows turned in. “Discharged where?”

He strode back to the central desk where the staff congregated, flashed his badge, and demanded,

“Where’s the patient from room 840?”

“I’m not sure.” The nurse shuffled her feet.

“After report I went on my rounds and she was gone.

She did leave a note.”

Todd felt his pulse jump. He shoved his badge back in his pocket and waited for the nurse to find the note in the chart. He removed his cell phone from his pocket, noticed he didn’t have a signal.

Frustrated, he muttered under his breath and flipped it closed.

“Here.” She handed a paper to him. “I told the doctor she eloped. She wasn’t on a 5150 or anything,” she told him.

“No, she wasn’t being held,” he said before reading the note.

To the Lovely and Caring Nurses, Staff and the owners of the land in which I was found, Thank you for all your kindness and care. I appreciate everything you have done for me. If I can find a way to repay you, be assured I will do so.

It was signed , Jane Doe 33.

Todd slammed his fist on the counter, all those behind it jumped. “Can I get a copy of this?” He handed the paper over to the nurse.

As soon as he cleared the hospital doors, he was back on his cell calling his partner.

“Dammit, Nelson, she’s gone.”

“Gone?” Jake asked, the volume on the TV in the background lowered. “Where would she go?”

“I don’t know. I have a list of shelters the social worker gave to her. I’m going to check them out.”

“Why? We don’t have anything on her. No one filed charges.”

Todd ran across the street to the parking garage where he parked his Mustang. “She wouldn’t last a single night in a shelter, Jake. They’ll eat her for breakfast.”

“Maybe. But there isn’t anything we can do for her.” “I can’t sit and do nothing.”