Gus frowned. “Wait. What? You don’t know who you are?”
The woman shook her head. “No. All I know is what I have tattooed on my wrist.” She held out her hand, palm up.
Charlie gasped and grabbed her wrist. “That’s the Trinity knot.” She shot a glance at Declan. “What are the chances that this is a coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidence,” Declan said, his voice tight, his jaw even tighter. “You don’t know who you are? How did you know to come to Mrs. Halverson?”
The woman nodded toward the tattoo. “The coordinates below the symbol.”
“What coordinates?” Gus stared at the tattoo. “All I see are squiggly lines.”
“They’re numbers in Hebrew,” she said.
Gus wasn’t buying her story. Who tattooed coordinates on her own body? And in Hebrew? Highly unlikely. “How do you know they aren’t a telephone number or someone’s birth date?”
“I had ten days in the hull of a ship to think about it. As you can see, there are two rows of numbers. When I reached the US, I gave the telephone theory a shot. When I called the first one, it played a recording that it was out of service. I got a day care facility on the second one. Given the numbers, I figured they were longitude and latitude. The coordinates pointed to the Halverson Estate in Virginia.” She stared into Charlie’s eyes. “I don’t have any other ideas. If you don’t know who I am, I don’t know where to go from here.”
Charlie studied her for a long time and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you at all.” Her brow furrowed. “But then I wasn’t always privy to all of my late husband’s activities. Perhaps he knew you?”
The woman’s shoulders sagged.
Charlie reached out to her. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you. It must be very distressful not knowing your own name. In the meantime, we have to call you something.”
“Jane Doe,” Gus said.
“That’s so impersonal,” Charlie protested.
“It’s temporary until we figure out who she is,” Declan said.
The woman in the black dress shrugged. “It’s as good a name as any.” She nodded toward Gus. “And like he said, it’s temporary. Or at least I hope it’s temporary. Until I figure out who I am, I have no home, no identification and no job that I know of.”
“In other words, you’re broke and homeless,” Gus said. “Can’t blame you for chasing down a rich widow. I guess I would, too, in your circumstances.”
Jane Doe’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want Mrs. Halverson’s money. I want to know who I am. Right now, I have no history, memories or family that I know of. If I had a job, I’m sure, by now, I’ve been fired for not showing up.”
“You said you spent ten days in the hull of a ship,” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Is that where you were when you came to or discovered you’d lost your memory?”
She shook her head, her jaw hardening. “No.”
Gus leaned forward. “Where were you?”
She didn’t look at him, but stared into Charlie’s face. “I was locked inside a tiny cell in a small village in Syria.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Syria?”
“Yes, ma’am. Syria.”
“What were you doing in Syria?” Charlie asked.
Glancing away, Jane shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is I was held captive. That’s where I woke up without my memory.”
“Why were they holding you captive?” Declan asked.
“They wanted information from me.” A shiver shook her slender frame. “I couldn’t give them the answers they wanted.”
“So, they tortured you?” Gus didn’t trust the woman, but the look in her eyes was so haunting, he could almost feel her pain.
She nodded, raised both hands to touch the corner of her eye.
That’s when Gus saw the faded bruise, barely visible beneath the makeup she wore. His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t like seeing bruised and battered women. Men who hit them deserved to die.
“Oh, dear.” Charlie touched Jane’s arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“How did you escape?” Declan asked.
“There was an explosion close to the building. It blew a hole in the wall of my cell. I got out by crawling over the rubble and hiding in the back of a truck full of unprocessed marijuana.”
“And the ship?” Gus prompted, amazed at the woman’s tenacity and determination to be free.
“I found my way to the port town of Latakia. I didn’t know where I belonged, but it wasn’t Syria. Based on the language I felt most comfortable speaking and my accent, I assumed I was from the US and needed to get back there to discover who I am.”
“And I failed you.” Charlie sighed. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. If you don’t know me, you don’t know me. I’ll have to keep looking until I find another clue as to my identity.” Jane glanced out the windows of the limousine. “Please, let me out at the next convenience store. I won’t hold you up any longer.”
Silence reigned for all of three full seconds before Charlie exclaimed, “I won’t hear of it. You’re coming to stay with me.”
Gus wanted to stop Charlie before she promised the stranger the world. But he couldn’t.
Charlie was on a roll. “I have loads of room. You’ll stay in one of my spare bedrooms.” The older woman’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands. “I’ll have my men help you find the answers to your mystery.” She turned to Declan. “Between you and your team and my husband’s connections, we should be able to help out this poor woman.”
Gus held up a hand. “Charlie, you don’t know her.”
“Exactly,” Charlie shook her head as if speaking to a slow child. “That’s why we need to help her.”
“She could be a wacko out to steal from you, or hurt you,” Gus said. He glared at Jane. “We know nothing about her.”
“I’m usually a good judge of character,” Charlie said. “I took a chance on Declan and his recommendation for a team, based on his willingness to help me and my gut feeling that he was a good guy.”
“But you knew who he was when you hired him,” Gus argued.
Charlie’s lips thinned. “I didn’t know who he was when he pulled me out of the kidnapper’s van. When I did learn who he was, I still hired him, despite the black mark on his military record.”
“This is different,” Gus said.
Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think so.”
“Without any identification, you can’t look her up and tell if she’s a convicted felon. She could have escaped from prison where she’d been serving life for murder.”
“Gus has a point.” Declan shrugged. “Having just escaped from prison would explain her lack of identification.”
“I escaped from a prison in Syria,” Jane said. “Not here in the US.”
“And there’s a difference?” Gus challenged.
“I was being held for the information they wanted out of me.” Jane sighed heavily. “Not that it makes a difference, but they never charged me with a crime or tried me in a court. That I know of.”
“The point is, my instinct is telling me to trust Jane,” Charlie said. Her jaw firmed. “She’s coming to stay with me. Gus, since you’re so worried about her, Declan can assign you to watch out for her.” Charlie smiled at Jane. “Don’t let these men bother you. They’re only looking out for my well-being.”
“I understand,” Jane said. “If I were them, I too would have great difficulty trusting a stranger. Actually, I wouldn’t have let me inside the vehicle in the first place.”
Gus nodded. “What she said.”
“Gus, are you up for the assignment?” Declan asked. “If not, I can assign one of the other guys.”
“After seeing Jane in action, I know what she’s capable of.” He gave the woman a narrow-eyed stare. “I’ll watch her.”
Jane gave as good as she got with an equally narrowed glance. “You’ll be bored when you discover that I’m no threat to Mrs. Halverson.”
“Charlie,” the widow said with a smile. “Call me Charlie. And, Declan, please remove her restraints.”
Declan frowned, but cut the zip tie binding Jane’s wrists.
She rubbed at the red marks the ties had made on her skin and nodded toward Charlie. “Thank you.”
“I get the feeling that being around you will be anything but boring,” Gus said.
Declan chuckled. “Yes, sir. You’re the right man for this job.”
Gus wasn’t quite certain why Declan thought it was funny that he was the right man for the job. He took protecting Charlie seriously. If that meant sticking with the black-haired beauty like a fly on flypaper then yes, he was the right man for the job.
Where Charlie’s instinct was to trust Jane, Gus’s was telling him where Jane went, trouble would follow.
JANE DOE.
She knew it wasn’t her name, but it gave her hope that it was only temporary.
When they arrived at the entrance to the Halverson estate, Jane studied the impressive stone fence and wrought iron gate. Yes, she was almost certain she could have gotten in, but she didn’t know what kind of security system the Halversons had in place. She might only have gone two steps before a guard dog ripped her to shreds or a dozen heavily muscled men converged on her, aiming automatic rifles and fully loaded handguns.
Invading a person’s private residence might not have gotten her invited in like meeting the wealthy widow at a gala. Not that her execution had gone exactly according to her original plan. In the long run, she was here, going in under the watchful eye of her assigned guard.
Charlie had no idea who Jane was, but her promise to help her find answers was better than being turned back out on the streets where she’d had to steal to survive.
“I don’t like taking charity,” Jane said. And she didn’t like stealing. “If there is something I can do to repay you, I’m more than happy to earn my way until I’m able to return home.” Assuming she had a home. Hell, for all she knew, she might live in Syria, not the US.
Deep inside, she didn’t think so. But her memory only went back as far as the beatings she’d endured at the hands of her captors. Anything before that was a complete blank. Why she knew how to speak Russian and Arabic was just as much a mystery to her as her fighting skills.
The caravan of vehicles drove on the curving road through an archway of ancient oaks. When they emerged from the wooded acres, Jane’s breath caught in her throat at the three-story mansion ahead. They pulled into a circular drive and stopped at a marble staircase leading up to a massive double door.
A woman and two men emerged and came down the steps.
Arnold, the driver, parked the limousine and hurried around to open the door. Gus got out and offered his hand to Jane.
She felt certain she wasn’t used to having a man help her out of a vehicle. Given the dress and high heels, she accepted the hand.
He pulled her to her feet with enough force she bumped against him.
Jane planted her hands on his rock-hard chest and looked up into his deep brown eyes, reflecting the light from the front entrance.
“I’m watching you,” he whispered and then held her until she was steady on her feet before stepping back to offer his hand to Charlie.
He was gentle helping the older woman out of the vehicle.
Jane had the urge to plant her foot in his backside. She resisted, knowing it would only buy her a little satisfaction for a short time and make her look bad to her benefactor. Until she got the answers she needed, she had to play nice with the cranky guard assigned to look after her.
“Charlie, are you all right?” The woman who’d exited the house hurried forward to engulf Charlie in a hug.
“Grace, of course, I am.” Charlie glanced around at the other men exiting the SUVs. “I take it good news travels fast?”
“Mack called ahead and let me know what happened,” Grace said. “I knew I should have gone with you to the gala.”
Charlie shook her head. “I’m fine. I had sufficient backup and a little help from my new friend Jane.” She turned to Jane. “Jane Doe, this is my personal assistant, Grace Lawrence. Grace, this is Jane. At least until we figure out who she really is.”
Grace shook Jane’s hand. As soon as she released it, she frowned, her gaze shooting to Declan. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain later,” he said. “Right now, let’s go inside. We didn’t get a chance to eat at the gala and I’m hungry enough to eat a side of beef.”
Grace stepped back, allowing Charlie to move ahead.
Charlie led the way into the house, not stopping until she arrived in a large, modern kitchen. “Carl,” she called out, looking around.
A barrel-chested man wearing a white chef’s smock and carrying a canister emerged from what appeared to be a walk-in pantry. “Yes, ma’am.”
“We have a lot of hungry people converging on your kitchen,” Charlie said. “What have you got?”
Carl grinned. “I’m about to pull a ham out of the oven. I’d planned on having ham and eggs for breakfast tomorrow, but we can eat it now. I can steam some vegetables in just a few minutes and toast some baguettes.”
“Perfect. What about wine?”
“I’ll get the wine,” Grace offered and headed for a door on the far end of the kitchen.
“I’ll help.” Declan followed. They descended a staircase that led downward, possibly into a wine cellar.
Carl grabbed mitts and turned to one of the two ovens. When he pulled the door open, steam rushed out along with the heavenly scent of baked ham.
Jane’s knees wobbled and her stomach gave a loud rumble. How long had it been since she’d eaten a good meal? She’d scrounged for everything she’d eaten over the past two weeks since her escape from her cell in Syria. While held captive, her meals had been few and inadequate. She’d probably lost ten or fifteen pounds she couldn’t afford to lose.
While the men shrugged out of their jackets, Carl set the ham on the counter and carved off a stack of slices. “If you’re too hungry to wait for vegetables, you can make sandwiches.” He pulled out a loaf of fresh bread and sliced the entire thing, laying it on a plate beside the ham.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” one of the men said.
Charlie laughed. “Don’t worry about the steamed vegetables. Lettuce and tomatoes will suffice. I think we’re all ready to eat now, not twenty minutes from now.”
“Done.” Carl hurried to the refrigerator, extracted the requisite lettuce, tomatoes and condiments and returned to the island. In less than a minute he had everything sliced and ready.
Grace and Declan emerged from the wine cellar, carrying two bottles each of red wine. Gus reached into a cabinet and retrieved wine glasses, handing several to Jane before loading his hands with more. They carried them to a huge table in the corner of the kitchen.
Carl made sandwiches to order one by one, starting with Charlie. Once they had their plates, the men and women moved to the table and claimed seats. Carl brought his own plate and several bags of potato chips and joined them.
Once everyone had a chance to eat several bites, Charlie went around the table, introducing everyone.
She nodded toward the brown-haired, blue-eyed man who’d ridden along with them in the limousine. “You met Declan O’Neill at the gala. He’s the leader of my team of former Force Recon marines.”
Declan gave her a chin lift.
Charlie nodded to Gus who’d taken the seat next to Jane. “And you met Augustus Walsh who has been assigned to protect you.”
Jane almost snorted, but held back. Protect her? The hell he was. He was going to keep an eye on her to keep her from hurting Charlie or any of his band of brothers. Jane nodded politely. “Do I call you Augustus?”
“Just Gus,” he said in more of a grunt than polite conversation.
Her lips twitched. “Okay, Just Gus.”
His glare was worth the teasing, making Jane’s smile broaden.
“Next to Gus is Mack Balkman,” Charlie continued. “He was at the Mayflower Hotel tonight pulling outside guard duty.”
A man with black hair and blue eyes lifted a hand. “We got caught up in the evacuation of the ballroom and missed the fight.”
“Jack Snow was outside the hotel as well,” Charlie said.
A tall man with dark blond hair and gray eyes winked. “Declan says you held your own with two attackers.” He nodded. “I’m impressed.”
Jane shrugged. “I did what I had to.”
“For which I’m extremely grateful,” Charlie said. “You met Grace.” She nodded to her assistant and then tipped her head toward a man with brown hair and brown eyes. “Frank Ford was security backup here at the estate, along with Cole McCastlain who works with my computer tech Jonah Spradlin, who isn’t here tonight.”
The man she’d called Frank Ford gave a chin lift. “You can call me Mustang.”
The man with the close-cropped hair and hazel eyes Charlie had introduced as Cole nodded.
“Do you have a different name you go by?” Jane asked.
“Cole is it,” he answered.
“Gentlemen and Grace,” Charlie announced, “this is, for all intents and purposes, Jane Doe. Our mission is to discover who she is and help her find her way home.”
Home. The word filled Jane with warmth and hope. She prayed she had such a place and that a family was there to welcome her.