Silent Run

spilled over, dripping down her cheeks. But crying didn’t make her feel better; it made her feel weak. She grabbed a tissue from the box and wiped her face. Taking several deep breaths, she lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She offered up a desperate, pleading prayer for her daughter’s safety. While she couldn’t see her child’s face, in her head she could hear the terrifying cries of a baby who wanted her mother.
    * * *
    His shadow was coming closer. She could hear him talking, his words edged with lightness and humor, as if there were nothing wrong. Don’t trust him, the voice inside her head whispered. He looks harmless, with his good looks, his winning personality. Everyone else thinks he’s a prince, but you know better. You’ve seen behind the smile and the mask that he wears. And you know he can kill. You’ve seen him do just that. Run! Faster!
    She woke with a start, body sweating, pulse pounding, breath coming ragged and rough. It took her a minute to realize where she was -- the hospital. She was alone this time, no doctor, no nurse, no policeman, and, more important, no dark, menacing shadows. The curtains had been opened, and she could see the sun outside her window. The storm had passed. The nightmare was over. Or was it?
    She tried to remember her name, her address, her birthday. Nothing. She closed her eyes again, attempting to conjure up a face in her mind, a father, a mother, a boyfriend, a sister, or a friend... She had to have someone in her life, didn’t she? Someone who knew her? Someone who’d lived with her? Loved her?
    The questions ran around in her brain, one after another. It was shocking to know nothing. Why wasn’t her memory coming back? The doctor said she just needed rest. And she had slept. Her recent nightmare attested to that.
    Was there an answer in her dreams? She always seemed to be running -- from a man. Who was he? And why was he after her?
    Dammit! Why couldn’t she unlock her own brain? She hit her hands against the mattress. The movement created a wave of pain that ran through her body, reminding her that her head was not her only injury.
    Opening her eyes, she wiggled her toes and moved her legs, relieved that every joint and muscle seemed to be working, some a bit more painfully than others, but at least she wasn’t paralyzed.
    Glancing at the clock, she saw it was after two. She’d been asleep for hours. A lunch tray rested on the table by her bed, but she wasn’t at all hungry. What she needed was information and reassurance. She reached for the deputy’s business card, but before she could pick up the phone, Deputy Manning entered the room.
    â€œI was just about to call you,” she said.
    â€œI hope that means you have your memory back."
    â€œUnfortunately not. Did you find my baby?"
    â€œNo. We’ve been out in the canyon all day with search dogs and experienced personnel, and there’s no sign of a child. Our forensic experts believe the back door of the car opened on impact. Other than the shoe that was located outside the automobile, we found no other evidence, no footprints, no articles of clothing, nothing to indicate that a child or anyone else wandered away from the car. We’ll get a tow truck out there to retrieve your vehicle, but there’s not much left of it."
    â€œI guess that’s good... that you found nothing.” She wasn’t really sure whether it was good or not. Her daughter was still missing. As she gazed into the deputy’s eyes, she saw a gleam of skepticism.
    â€œWhat?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like you think I’m hiding something?"
    â€œI’m just putting facts together, ma’am, facts that don’t add up. There’s a lot about your accident that puzzles me. We found absolutely no identification in your car, no purse, no wallet, no registration, nothing.” He let that sink in and then continued. “Now, I’ve never known a woman to take a road trip without some sort of bag."
    â€œIt does seem odd,” she murmured.
    â€œWhen we ran the plates on your Honda, we learned that the car is registered to a Margaret Bradley. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that Ms. Bradley died in a convalescent hospital two months ago at the age of eighty-two. She resided in Los Angeles County, Venice Beach, to be exact. She had no known relatives."
    Margaret Bradley? She ran the