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The news was on when Ben came in to check on his patient. She was awake. Rowan was still sound asleep. “He’s exhausted,” she whispered.
“Yes, but you need your rest too.” Ben scolded.
“Just leave him be. I am fine.”
The doctor didn’t argue. “You look a bit more alert this morning,” he said. He noticed the half-empty box of donuts. “How’s your headache?”
“Better,” she said. “My arm still hurts, though.”
“That’s to be expected. I’m going to try switching your pain meds a bit. We need to wean you off the opioids. Just let the nurse know if your pain isn’t well-controlled.”
“I will,” she said.
He crossed his arms, considering her. “So, do you remember any of what happened to you?”
She thought for a moment. “I hit my head,” she said. “But I’m not sure how. I think we went camping.”
“Why would you go camping?” He was testing her. “It’s still early in the season and the weather on the mountain can be unpredictable.”
Lauren furrowed her brow. “We do it all the time,” she said.
“What do you do for a living, Miss Grayson?” he asked.
“I’m a research assistant,” she said, without missing a beat. “For Cal Tech. I’m working on my PhD.”
“And what do you do as a research assistant?”
“I go out and I research stuff,” she said. The strain of trying to recall details showed on her face. “Wolves primarily,” she added, smiling as the information came to her. “I also do some work in television.” Now Rowan was awake and watching her cautiously. His brow furrowed. “Ever heard of the show Nova? It’s on PBS. Maybe you’ve seen it?”
“Lauren, you haven’t done that for almost ten years, not since you were a grad student. That was before you got your PhD,” Rowan said.
“I got my PhD?” she looked at him as if that surprised her.
“So, where do I work now?”
“For the past five years you’ve been working with me on our show The Veritas Codex. We watched it last night. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh yeah.” She nodded. “What was I thinking?”
“Do you remember what we were doing here?” Rowan asked. “When you hit your head?”
Ben watched her, noting her eyes darting from side to side. “No,” she said. “No. Maybe. We were researching stuff. It’s all a blur.”
“We were researching the area ... looking for Bigfoot,” he said.
“Did we find him?” she asked.
Ben made some notes in her chart.
“Well, no one’s better at not finding the truth than we are.” Rowan snarked.
“You’ve got a very bad concussion,” Ben supplied. He recognized Rowan’s distress. “We’ve run some tests, but there’s nothing conclusive. With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to predict the outcome. You may remember. You may not. We will just have to wait and see.”
* * *
Rowan followed Ben out into the hallway. “Isn’t there something we can do?”
“I can get you in to a psychologist. There may be some therapies they can recommend. But I can’t make any promises.”
“Do you think if we showed her the video? Tell her everything?”
“She may not accept the information. She may reject it. Or it could put her into a panic, and it might be devastating to her. Is it really so bad that she doesn’t remember?”
“It’s what we do, Ben. We go out there and we find the truth. If it’s a hoax or if it’s real, we accept it. We don’t judge. We collect evidence and analyze it. That’s all I want for Lauren ...to find the truth.”
“She may not be ready for it. Give her some time. Talk to the psychologist, let them guide you through this process.” He put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “I know this is frustrating. Remember the class in basic training on caring for victims of trauma? We don’t want to make it any worse for her. She’s been through enough.”
Rowan hesitated for a moment. “The test results came back. Didn’t they?”
“Everything was negative,” he said. “She wasn’t raped.”
“Thank God.” Rowan’s posture bowed and his hand went to the middle of his chest.
“She needs time, Rowan. Give her that. The memories will come soon enough.”
* * *
Rowan noticed the men in black suits coming down the hall as Ben went to the nurses’ station. Agents Miller and Morrison looked like men on a mission. “Mr. Pierce,” Miller said.
“Have you found anything?”
“That’s why we’re here,” he said. “There’s been another reported sighting near Ape Cave. A hiker on the trail where Lauren was found reported seeing a giant monkey.”
“Primate, yes. Monkey, no.”
“We’re still working to determine exactly what he saw. We think it might have been a bear, but after what happened to Miss Grayson, we can’t rule out anything.”
“We were hoping we could talk with her,” Miller said.
“She doesn’t remember anything,” Ben said, crossing his arms as he moved in front of the door to her room. “Post traumatic amnesia.”
“She doesn’t remember anything?”
“She remembers that she hit her head,” Rowan scoffed, feigning a laugh.
“May we speak with her anyway?” Morrison asked.
Ben looked like he might not allow it, but he knew these men had the authority here. He stepped aside. “Only for a few minutes.”
“Lauren?” Rowan led them into the room. “These gentlemen are trying to help us figure out what happened to you. Will you talk to them?”
Lauren looked confused, but nodded. Miller approached her, but Morrison spoke first. “Miss Grayson, we understand you had some trouble in camp a few days ago and we’d like to help find out who did this to you. Can you tell us what happened?”
“I hit my head,” she said.
“Yes ma’am.” The two agents glanced at one another. “That’s what your doctor told us. We are trying to figure out how you hit your head and who might have tried to hurt you.”
“Why would someone want to hurt me?” She protested. “Did you know I am on a TV show?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Miller said. “We’ve seen the video from ...” Ben shook his head, making a growling noise in the back of his throat. He discouraged the man’s line of questioning with his eyes. “Err ... from your show. We wanted to know if you saw who hit you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her eyes narrowed. She looked to Rowan. “Do you know what he means?”
“I tried to explain to these gentlemen that you don’t remember anything that happened to you.”
“Do you know what happened to me?” she asked Rowan, point-blank.
“We think ...” he started, glancing at, then ignoring, Ben’s warning glare. “We think you were attacked by ... a ... Bigfoot.” He spit it out, despite his better judgement.
Lauren pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow. “A Bigfoot?” An impish smile graced her bruised face. “You think a Bigfoot did this?”
“You don’t?” Miller asked, analytically.
Lauren puzzled over this for a moment, the smile quickly fading. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my life ... but I’ve learned to base my reality on facts.” She turned to Rowan again. “Do we have any proof of any of this?”
“Nothing conclusive,” he admitted. “It’s all circumstantial at this point.”
“Well, you know what that means,” she said. “We need more data.”
“We aren’t going back out there,” Rowan stated flatly, knowing exactly what she had in mind. Still, this was the Lauren he knew. The spark was back.
“There’s no proof that Bigfoot exists,” Ben said gently. “Researchers, both amateur and expert, have been trying for decades, if not centuries.”
“Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence,” Lauren said, curtly. “You know the rules, Rowan. We cannot come to any conclusions without sufficient evidence.”
“I won’t take you back out there,” Rowan protested. “You’re in no condition to go traipsing off into the woods.”
“I have to agree with Rowan,” Ben stated flatly.
“Ma’am. We have taken over your investigation,” Morrison said. “Your job now is just to focus on your recovery. If we find any further evidence, we’ll be in touch.”