2

Paige strained across her desk to hear the murmurings coming from beyond the office.

Sophie was out there talking on the phone but speaking so quietly that Paige couldn’t hear the conversation. It was all rather mysterious. Was it about her, Paige wondered? But what on earth could she be talking about? Or maybe she was talking to that guy Wade she’d just started seeing. Paige hadn’t met him yet, but the way Sophie described him, he might, finally, be someone capable of getting her head and heart away from Detective Roman Leconte.

A brisk knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. A young man in a courier outfit popped his head into the office. He looked around the room once then retracted his head. Paige heard him say, “In there?” to Sophie, and rolled her eyes. That she seemed to be able to blend into her surroundings could be incredibly useful for their investigative work, but also a little annoying in day-to-day life. Still, it was part of what made her and Sophie—Squirrel and Swan as they were called during their doctoral studies—a good detective duo: Sophie’s attention-grabbing looks and Paige’s cloak of invisibility. Until she wanted to be seen, that is. Paige was certainly capable of making her presence known when the situation required it.

The courier reappeared.

“Hi,” Paige said loudly.

He startled, finally noticing Paige, sitting at her desk against the far wall.

She waved sarcastically. “Yes. I am here.”

“Dr Paige Garnet?” he asked.

“That’s me.”

He handed her a package. “Thanks.” She signed for it and then retrieved the scissors from the desk drawer. “Oooh,” she breathed once she’d wrestled it open.

Just as she was lifting out her exciting new detective toy to inspect more closely, there was noise out on the landing. Paige quickly stuffed the package in the drawer. She waited, watching the door, but Sophie didn’t come through. She let out a sigh of relief. Now that it had arrived, she wasn’t sure Sophie would approve of this rather expensive purchase. But once Paige had a chance to show Sophie the equipment in action, she wouldn’t be angry. She was almost sure of it.

The landline rang. Paige eyed it warily. It was probably her mother calling. She let it ring again. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was a new case? Paige sighed. How did people used to live like this? Blindly picking up calls with no clue who was on the other end. How could one screen calls from their mother?

She scooped up the receiver. “S and S Investigations.”

“Goodness, Paige, what took so long? What if potential clients get tired of waiting for someone to answer the phone? It doesn’t look very good,” Paige’s mother said.

“Maybe it does look good. Maybe it makes it seem as if we’re too busy to answer the phone.”

“Well, perhaps, but—”

“Mum. Why’d you call?”

“Wasn’t your last case involving Scott Radsworth?”

Paige frowned. “Yes, it was. Why?”

“Well, it’s rather peculiar. I’m reading an article in the Herald about the case, but they don’t mention you at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Alice Garnet sighed. “I’m not sure how clearer I could be, dear, the murder of Scott Radsworth, there’s a write-up in the paper and you’re not mentioned.”

The line between Paige’s brows deepened. Cradling the receiver between her shoulder and her ear, she opened the online version of NZ’s only national newspaper. A minute later, with her mother still listening on the other end of the phone, Paige let out a string of curse words that would have made a sailor blush.

“Goodness, Paige, where did you learn language like that? Not from me.”

“I’ve got to go, Mum. Bye.” Paige dropped the phone with a clatter. “Sophie!” she roared. “You’ll never believe what’s happened.”

They’d each read the article three times now and neither of them could fathom what had gone wrong. “That’s it,” Paige declared. “We have to set everyone right.”

Sophie shared Paige’s outrage, albeit not quite as loudly or with as many profanities, but still felt shocked at Roman’s involvement in the fiasco.

DS Roman Leconte of the Auckland Central Police Department had been interviewed about the Radsworth murder. Both she and Paige considered him to be an ally of S & S Investigations, but according to this article, not only was he the one who said it was SOS Agency, a new Auckland-based private investigations agency who played a crucial role in the arrest, but there was a reference to both investigators being male.

“But Roman couldn’t have got this wrong,” Sophie said. “He wouldn’t have.”

“It’s right there in black and white,” Paige said. “’The lads from SOS Agency’. Do you want to call Roman or the reporter?” Paige already had her phone in her hand.

Sophie’s head jerked up, looking stricken. “Neither.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “This is not the time to indulge in your phone anxiety, Sophie. This is an emergency.”

“Fine,” Sophie mumbled. The prospect of calling Roman made her nervous for a completely different reason than calling the reporter. Roman had been a fixture in Sophie’s heart from perhaps the first moment she’d met him nearly six months ago, and she’d only very recently made the brave decision to cut him from her life so she wouldn’t waste any more time or emotional energy on him.

Because Roman was married.

Nothing had ever happened between the two of them. But a connection between them existed—even Paige could see it. And the problem of Roman’s wife was one that did not appear to be going away.

“I’ll take the reporter,” Sophie said miserably. “What’s the number?”

Paige recited it then scrolled through her contacts to call Roman.

Both of their calls went unanswered.

They each left a message asking Roman and Andrew Finch, respectively, to call them back. But Sophie’s request for a return call ASAP was much less convincing than Paige’s.

Once Sophie had disconnected Paige gave her a disapproving look. “You didn’t exactly hammer the message home,” she said.

“I asked him to call us back.”

“But there was no urgency. If I got that message, I wouldn’t bother returning the call.” Paige shook her head and picked up the landline. She dialled the reporter’s contact number and waited, her eyes narrowing with each unanswered ring.

“Yes, hello, Andrew,” she said, her voice scathing. “What kind of reporter gets key details about a murder case wrong, huh? You bungled the facts about the Radsworth murder, and you need to make it right. Call me back. Doctor Garnet of S and S Investigations. Yes, the agency that actually revealed the murderer.” She recited off the landline number as well as her mobile number and then slammed down the receiver.

Sophie suspected that Paige had used the landline to make this call not because it was cheaper—that wouldn’t occur to her—but because you could end the call in such a way.

“There. He’d better get back to me or we are going down there to bawl him out in front of his colleagues.”

“It’s obviously a mistake.”

“Yes. Obviously. But how did it get made?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait for one of them to ring us back to find out,” Sophie said. “Hey, what did that courier deliver to you?”

Paige’s eyes slid away. “Oh… hey, did Leo get back to you?”

Leo, at that moment, was in the waiting room of Auckland City Hospital’s emergency room.

He looked up at the doors through which his mysterious new friend had been escorted by a nurse some time ago and wondered what he was doing there at all. She was a complete stranger. But how could he leave her? She had no wallet, bag or phone, and more importantly, no memory. She’d clearly been in a traumatic accident of some kind, and she very obviously needed help.

Just as Leo was considering making a trip to the vending machine, the doors opened and the woman he’d rescued from the perils of Mt Albert Road walked through. When her face lit up with a mixture of pleasure and relief at the sight of Leo, he knew that the person to figure out who she was and what happened to her most certainly would be him.

Leo stood up as she approached but suddenly felt rather awkward, as if they’d been out all night on a romantic tryst and were at the stage of the evening in which they were to part ways. Which was ridiculous. Leo couldn’t think of a less romantic place than an emergency room.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She looked uncertain for a moment, touched her hand to her head, then nodded. “I seem to be. I mean, apart from the obvious injuries. I have to go back in a couple of days for follow-up tests to make sure, but I don’t seem to have a serious concussion, which is good.” Her brow creased as she studied Leo’s face. “I can’t believe you stayed for me.”

He smiled. “I couldn’t leave you.”

“It’s so strange, I feel as if I can trust you. I’m not sure why. It’s like a gut thing. Are you sure we don’t know each other?”

“Completely sure,” Leo said. “But people always say I have a trustworthy face so that’s probably it.” He used to lament that his friendly face got him shunted into the ‘harmless’ category by women, which wasn’t quite where he wanted to be.

Right now, however, he was rather happy about it.

They moved toward the exit and went through the doors. Leo kept going in the direction of his car, hoping she wouldn’t stop and say goodbye.

“I have cuts on my arms and legs,” she said suddenly. “But they’re from weeks ago,” she added. She lifted her sleeve to show him the same scar he’d noticed earlier. This time he saw there was not one but three red lines. “I got them in a separate accident to whatever caused the bump and gash on my head.” She bit her lip. “What do you think that means?”

“Uh… I’m not sure.” Leo was at a loss as how to comfort her. What could you say to someone with mysterious injuries? “What’s the deal with your memory?”

She shook her head. “They were vague. They don’t know exactly but it’s probably some sort of traumatic amnesia.” She cleared her throat and wrapped her hands around her body. “Most likely my memory will come back in a few days. I shouldn’t worry.”

Leo nodded. “That’s good.”

“I was wondering… where did you find me? Can we… can we go back and see if anything jogs my memory? Or maybe there’s something to tell me what happened?”

“Of course. It’s not far from here.”

“Are you sure you’re not busy? Don’t you have to work?”

Leo waved his hand. “Flexible hours, it’s fine.”

He found a park on one of the side streets a couple of blocks away from the intersection of Mt Albert and New North Road and they walked slowly up, scanning the street.

“It was about here,” Leo said, coming to a stop. To their left was a street on the corner of which was a kindergarten. Beyond that was an apartment block, and then the main intersection with a variety of shops. Across the road was the train station and farther down were residential houses.

“Maybe you got here by train?” Leo said.

She nodded, looking around her. “Maybe,” she said, then suddenly threw her hands up in the air. “But nothing is familiar. I can’t remember anything at all.”

“Hey.” Leo stepped closer and tentatively took one of her hands in his. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

She sniffed back a tear and looked down.

“I was wondering, what should I call you, until we…”

She looked up again, her large green eyes searching his. “I guess Jane, as in Jane Doe.”

“Jane? Are you sure? This is your chance to have the name you always wanted.” He gave her a small smile, which she returned.

“I actually quite like Jane. She sounds like someone who knows what she wants. Someone who is sure about things.” She smiled again. “The irony.”

“Jane it is.” Leo nodded. “Hey, look.” He pointed at a sign across the road. “That’s a motel.”

She turned to him. “Maybe I was staying there?”

“I mean, it’s possible you live in the apartments over there or any one of these houses or even in an entirely different place, but you do have an accent.”

“I do?” Jane raised her hand to her mouth.

“Yeah. Australian. I mean, you could have moved here ages ago, but maybe not? Maybe you’re here on holiday?”

She nodded. “Maybe.”

“Shall we go over and ask? It’s a start… or at least, it’s worth a shot.”

A pleasant-seeming woman was standing behind the front desk when they walked into the motel’s reception. “Welcome to the motor lodge,” she said. “Lovely single and family units, nice and quiet, and we have a pool!”

Leo pulled at his t-shirt, suddenly aware of the clammy heat of his skin. A dip in a pool right now sounded amazing. The January sun had been unrelenting this week and the downside of living in Mt Eden was that all of Auckland’s beaches required driving to. That was, of course, doable, but also meant you had to find a parking spot. On the crowded suburban streets of Auckland, this could easily turn into a whole big thing. To have a pool right at your fingertips...

“This is a weird question,” Jane said to the woman. “Do I look familiar to you? Was I a guest here?”

She widened her eyes. “Don’t you know?”

Jane shook her head, tears springing into her eyes once more. “I was in an accident and have amnesia. Temporary, I hope.”

“How awful.” The woman came around the counter to peer into Jane’s eyes. “No, love. I haven’t seen you before. When do you think it happened?”

“Yesterday, perhaps? Or maybe before that?”

“I was here yesterday and I didn’t see you,” she said. “If you give me your name, I could check a few days back but…” She broke off when she saw Jane’s face. “Sorry I can’t help.”

“Thanks anyway.”

They turned and exited the office but paused near the entrance, both hovering uncertainly.

“I don’t know what to do,” Jane said.

“We should probably go to the police.”

As Leo spoke, he wondered why hospital staff hadn’t insisted on the same. Wouldn’t that be the normal course of events for someone in her situation? But they’d just released her into the lobby; into the arms—so to speak—of a stranger.

“Jane? The police?”

She shook her head suddenly and violently. “I can’t.”

Leo frowned but said gently, “Why not?”

“I don’t know… I just… I just know that I can’t. I shouldn’t.” She cast anguished eyes to Leo. “Please don’t make me.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t make you do anything.”

They fell silent for a moment. Leo watched her twist her hands, her expression troubled.

“You need to stay somewhere and even though you do trust me, you probably don’t trust me enough to accept my offer to stay at my place. Plus,” Leo added, going a little pink, “it’s just a studio unit. It’s too small. But why don’t you get a room here for a couple of days. Maybe something will come back to you.”

“But I don’t have—”

“I can lend you some money. I’ll pay the bill and you can pay me back when you figure out who you are.”

Jane pressed her lips together and nodded.

“We’ll get you set up now and I could come by later?”

“That would be… thank you. Thank you so much, Leo. You are, literally, a life-saver.”

Once they’d gotten her checked-in—Leo dismissed a surge of uncertainty as he handed over his credit card information—they located her room at the top of the stairs. “You’ll be okay on your own for a while?” Leo asked.

“A long hot shower and then sleep is all I want.” She opened the door. “The doctor said I needed to rest, which is good because I feel as if I could sleep for days.”

“Okay. I’ll come back tomorrow then? I’ll give you my number in case you need me. You can use the phone in here to make a call.” Leo walked inside the room to scribble his number down on the notepad next to the phone.

“Thanks again, Leo,” Jane said as he shut the door behind him.

As Leo exited the motel he glanced back at the deliciously cool-looking pool. His first thought was to bring his togs when he came back tomorrow, but his second was: Why didn’t Jane want to go to the police?