Silent Vows
Page 4

“And terribly fattening, too, I’m sure. Not that you have to worry about that.”
“I suppose not.”
“The doctors aren’t ready to release you yet, but when they do I have a list of shelters in the area which might be of service.” She handed Myra a piece of paper with names and addresses on it. “There’s an abuse center on the list if you need it.”
Myra peered into the woman’s mind and sensed a lack of trust.
“The lawyers from Magicland agreed to accommodate you for awhile.”
“No. They have helped enough.”
The social worker gave her a puzzled look before she gathered her things. “Either way, there are people who can help you.”
Keisha stood to leave.
“Thank you for your concern.”
Keisha walked away shaking her head.
It took a lot of willpower to stay put. Every fiber of Myra’s being told her she had no right to stay in the hospital when someone else was paying her way.
Officer Blakely said he would return. Hopefully he would bring Lizzy and Myra would have her problems solved.
Over twenty-four hours had passed since she’d left 1576 and taken her first trip through time. The scared and lonely part of her needed to be battled down continually. The other part, the excited fraction of her brain, wanted nothing more than to jump out of her sickbed and explore. From the first ride in the ambulance to the gadgets surrounding her, everything was new and different. Having an uncertain future kept her from enjoying the pleasantries of this time. Well, not all of them.
Myra slipped out from under the cotton sheets, tiptoed into the bathroom, and enjoyed her second shower. “Oh, Tara. Ye were right to have Fin working on this luxury at home,” she murmured to herself. To shower indoors with heated water at the Keep would be heaven.
Later, she sat by the window and watched the people come and go. There were so many of them.
Some resembled her family and the people of the village outside MacCoinnich Keep, but others were simply different, from the clothes they wore to the girth of their waistlines.
The faces, dear lord, their faces with eyes shaped in small slits to foreheads flat and large.
Even their hair was different and shaded in every color of the rainbow. One woman even had a pink streak running through her blonde tresses. Myra did her best not to stare.
Todd and Jake arrived at Jane Doe’s room after three in the afternoon. After one jaw-dropping glance, Jake elbowed Todd in the ribs and lifted his eyes in approval. “How are you feeling today?” Todd asked.
“The same, thank you.”
“This is my partner, Officer Nelson.”
“Miss...”
“Doe,” she told him. “Apparently my name is Jane Doe number 33.” She fingered the name band she wore on her wrist. “Why so many numbers? Are there that many women who don’t remember their names in your village?”
“More like unidentified bodies...”
Todd shot Jake a disapproving glare.
Jane Doe’s smile fell. “Oh.” She stood and moved to the bed. “Please sit.”
Once they were all comfortable Todd started.
“We found the name Lizzy McAllister, well actually her name is Elizabeth McAllister.”
“And?”
“It appears that Miss McAllister is on vacation.
Her employer isn’t expecting her back for a few days.
We can question her then to see if she knows who you are.”
She let out a disappointed sigh.
“Her name appeared on a police report filed last summer,” Jake relayed. “Her sister went missing.
Does the name Tara McAllister mean anything to you?”
Todd watched Jane’s expression and noticed a flicker of recognition, which she quickly hid. He had done his homework. The woman sitting in front of him didn’t match the pictures of the missing woman, but he couldn’t help wonder if they were in some way connected. Missing persons and people showing up without an identity sounded related to him.
“No.” She looked down at her hands.
“What about the names Duncan and Fin? Ring any bells?”
Myra’s first thought was, what did bells have to do with it? “No.” She denied knowing her own brothers.
“How about the name Gwen Adams?”
“Adams?” Myra shook her head. “Gwen Adams.”
Tara had referred to Grainna as ‘Gwen’ many times.
Did they mean Grainna? Cold crept up her arms making her hair stand on end and her flesh crawl.
The men exchanged looks.
She circled her arms over her body searching for warmth.
“The name means something?” Todd asked this time.
“Maybe.” What did these men know of Grainna?
She wanted to ask, but feared the answer. Had they contacted her when Lizzy wasn’t available? Was she on her way there now?
“Gwen Adams disappeared the same time McAllister did.”
A sharp breath escaped from her lungs. Grainna must have followed her brothers and Tara back in time. That was why her mother’s vision warned them of Myra’s death if she didn’t escape into the future. Everything started making sense. Her family was in grave danger.
Her head started to spin. She closed her eyes, desperately trying to hide her emotions, but it was impossible. A burning ache punched her chest with worry.
“Are you okay?” Todd asked.
Myra rolled her head on her shoulders, and squeezed her eyes together, then tried to push away the concern, anxiety and terror from her face. “I don’t know.”
Myra’s eyes met Officer Blakely’s. Starring directly into to them, she said, “I don’t know what to do.” Tears glistened. She caught her lower lip with her teeth and moistened her dry lips.
“We will do what we can to help, Miss…”
“See, that is a problem. What do you call me?
Miss Doe?” A tear fell, and then another. Good God, she wanted to go home and knowing Grainna wreaked havoc back in her time forced her to face why she couldn’t. Grainna would kill Myra for her virgin blood.
Todd peered into her eyes, the eyes of a liar, and she was ashamed, conflicted, torn between telling him the truth or continuing with her lies.
Victims had their reasons, their need to remain silent. In his experience, he discovered most liars or victims hid something either due to an irrevocable act of their own, poor judgment in boyfriends, or spouses, or as the consequences of a stupid act in a drunken state. Then there were the others, like the woman in front of him, one he believed kept her silence because of the act of another.