The Woman Who Forgot Her Life

"Who'd you sell her credit cards to?"

"I didn't 'cause there weren't no fucking credit cards. All the bitch had in that purse was a cell phone and three hundred and change in fucking cash. I got twenty for the phone."

"Who'd you sell the cell phone to?"

"I don't know man. It was just some fucking kid on the street. Said he was gonna play games on it."

"You didn't get a name?"

"Yeah, like I asked him to sign a contract before I'd sell it to him. Fuck no, I didn't get a name."

"You're sure that was all she had in the purse? If I find out anything different, I guarantee the DA won't drop the assault charge."

Willard held up his hands.

"Look man, I'm telling the truth. There weren't no credit cards. If there had been, I'd have sold them to Big Sammy. Go ask him. He'll tell you I never had any to sell."

I really hadn't expected him to tell me who he'd have sold the cards to, but it was probably enough to get a warrant for Big Sammy and to search his house.

"This Big Sammy...he buys stolen credit cards?"

"Yeah. Fifty bucks for each one as long as it's no more'n a day since they got stole. People cancel 'em after that and they ain't worth shit."

"Would you testify to that in court?"

"Will the DA drop the assault charge?"

I said I'd see what the DA thought, but I already knew. Tim would jump at the chance to get two guys off the street, especially if Willard pled guilty and saved the time and cost of a trial. It would probably be a stretch to convict Willard on an assault charge anyway.

I gave Willard a pad of paper and a pen and told him to write down everything he'd just told me. When he was done, I read through the confession. A lawyer would probably say he was coerced, but the video of the interrogation would pretty much eliminate that defense. Willard would be going back to prison, and with any luck, so would Big Sammy.

After putting Willard in a holding cell, I went to talk to Tim. He agreed with me about the assault charge, and said he'd get a warrant for Big Sammy. I went back to a desk and added the new information to the case report I was writing. Once that was done, I drove by Judy's corner, gave her three more tens and then went home. After changing clothes, I drove back to the hospital.

She was waiting for me in the lobby and smiled when I walked up to her chair.

"You're earlier than I thought you'd be."

"I caught the guy who took your purse. Once he confessed, I didn't have much to do so I took off a little early. You ready to go?"

She smiled.

"I guess so."

On the way to New Beginnings we talked a little. She'd started reading the mystery novel, but hadn't liked it. She didn't like the vampire one either. She did like the romance novel, and had finished it.

"It was kind of like I am", she said. "The woman felt lost without the man she loved and tried really hard to get him back. I'm lost without my memory and I'm trying really hard to find it. It just isn't happening."

"She did finally get him, though, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"Well, see, you'll get your memory back too."

I stayed with the woman until they had her checked in and in her room. I promised to come back the next day with a couple more romance novels.

The next afternoon, I talked to the manager of the convenience store what had been robbed. The uniforms had caught the guy and he confessed, so I went back to the station to finish my report. The desk sergeant handed me a sheet of paper when I walked into the station.

"We got an anonymous tip about your Jane Doe. The guy said he saw the picture on the news and recognized her. It's all here."

I took the paper back to a desk and sat down to read it.

According to the caller, her name was Corrine Draves, and she was an escort. He didn't elaborate about how he knew that, but then, people with enough money to pay for an escort usually would rather they weren't publicly connected to that escort in any way, shape, or form. It did make some sense, though. An escort would deal only in cash, so that might explain why she didn't have credit cards.

I ran the name through the state database and came up with nothing. Corrine Draves didn't have a driver's license, and had never been arrested. NCIC didn't have anything either. There was no credit report when I tried that. If the woman was Corrine Draves, she somehow managed to live off the grid. With enough cash, she probably could, but I couldn't figure out why she'd want to.

Willard wouldn't be arraigned until the next day, so I didn't have anything more to do as far as his case went. I walked upstairs to the lab to see if they'd gotten any results back from the prints. Cheryl frowned when I asked her.

"Well, yes and no. The print on the purse matched the right index finger of your perp, Willard. The woman's prints came back from the FBI as belonging to a Cindy Davis from Biloxi, Mississippi."

"Great job, Cheryl. I can put Willard away for a while, and I know who my Jane Doe is."

"No, it isn't. It's a mess. I ran her name through the Biloxi PD database. She was printed when she was arrested for possession of marijuana. She was seventeen at the time and living with her parents. They bailed her out, and she was awaiting trial when Katrina hit.

"Her parents evidently thought they could weather it out and stayed in their home. The house was leveled. They found her parents in the wreckage and they were both dead, but they never found Cindy. She's listed as missing, but her sister had her declared dead five years later so the estate could be settled.

"It has to be a mistake, but the FBI never makes mistakes with prints. I asked them to confirm, and the results came back Cindy Davis again. Either Cindy has risen from the dead, or she's been hiding really, really well."

I only knew one person who could answer that, and she couldn't remember. I thought maybe if I told her what I'd found out, she might. I drove to New Beginnings after going home and changing my clothes.

She was happy to see me.

"I'm getting used to having you come see me. It's going to be hard to stop."

I smiled back.

"I guess that's a good thing. How are they treating you?"

"OK, I guess. It's not where I'd like to live forever, but it's a roof, a bed, and three meals a day. The meals aren't all that great though. Dinner last night was roast beef with carrots and potatoes. The carrots and potatoes weren't bad. The beef was as tough as shoe leather.

Lunch was chicken soup. I think they just waved a chicken leg over the pot in order to call it that. There wasn't any chicken in mine that I could find."

"Have you remembered anything?"

"No, not yet. Have you found out anything about me?"

"Yes, I have but it's confusing. Let's take a walk."

Once we were outside, I asked her if the name Corrine Draves mean anything to her."

"Is that who I am?"

"I don't know yet. Somebody saw your picture on the news and phoned in, that's all. We get tips like that all the time and half the time they're just somebody looking for a reward. This guy didn't ask if there was a reward or not, but they usually do."

She thought for a while, then shook her head.

"No...that name doesn't make anything come back. Do you know anything else?"

"The caller said Corrine is an escort."

She looked at me in disbelief.

"You're saying I'm a prostitute?"

I put my hand on her shoulder.

"No, I'm not saying anything. That's just what the caller said. An escort isn't the same thing as a prostitute anyway. Well, sometimes they are, but they don't have to be. Escorts are pretty woman some men pay to go out with."

"I don't think I could ever be one of those."

"I have another name too. Does Cindy Davis ring any bells?"

Her brow wrinkled for a few seconds and then she shook her head again.

"No, not that name either."

"Your fingerprints belong to her. That almost has to be who you are, but that's where it gets more confusing. According to the Biloxi, Mississippi Police, Cindy Davis has been dead for nine years. She was killed in Katrina, well, listed as missing actually, but later declared dead."

"Then, how could I be her?"

"I don't know, but the FBI is almost never wrong about fingerprints."

"I suppose they took my fingerprints because I was being arrested."

"Yes, on drug charges - possession of marijuana.'

We were beside a seat on the walk path. She sat down and put her face in her hands.

"So I'm either a convict or I'm a prostitute...or maybe both. I could have lived the rest of my life with knowing that."

I patted her on the shoulder.

"You're not a convict. You never went to trial."

"I didn't?"

"No. Katrina hit before the trial date."

"If I'm this Cindy person, they'll still want me, won't they?"

"I doubt it. The statute of limitations in Mississippi is two years for something like that. They could extend it if they think you really tried to hide, but they have better things to do. I'll have to notify them, but since you were a minor then and haven't been in trouble since, they'll probably just close the case. Possession of marijuana isn't quite the offense it used to be. The DA there probably won't want to go through the expense of a trial."

She looked up at me.

"When do you have to do it, tell them, I mean? I'd like some time to think and try to remember."

I probably should have said I'd notify them in the morning, and then taken her to jail so I was sure she'd be there if they still wanted her. I couldn't make myself do that.

"I can probably wait a day or two. You won't try to run on me, will you?"

She shook her head.

"No. I don't care anymore how this comes out. I just want it to be over. I don't know where I'd go even if I did."

"Well, at least we know who you are now. Maybe that'll help."

She looked up at me.

"It doesn't."

She looked so hurt and vulnerable I couldn't just leave her like that. I needed to do something if only to make myself feel better. The words just sort of made themselves up as I spoke.

"I don't like seeing you like this. It isn't the end of the world. It's Friday and I don't have to work tomorrow. How about if I buy you dinner tonight? Would that cheer you up a little?"

She smiled.

"It might. I could forget about trying to remember for a while."

After I cleared it with New Beginnings, I took her to a pizza place because she said she wasn't dressed for anything fancy. It felt pretty good to be sitting across from her in the booth. I hadn't actually taken a woman out to eat in six years or so, and I decided I should do it more often.

It was having someone there who didn't talk about the latest perp they'd hauled in or how hard they'd had to run to bring him down. It was having a woman with me who was pretty in spite of the lack of makeup and sexy clothes. I found myself hoping we could do the same thing the next night.

She seemed happier when we walked back to my car. She'd put her arm in mine and wasn't saying anything, but she was at least smiling.

We were almost to my car when I heard a man's voice say, "Hi, Cindy. It's been a while."

I turned toward the voice. The man was standing just outside the arc of light from the street light. I could see his clothes but the ball cap on his head kept his face in shadow. I started to say I was a cop and for him to leave, but Cindy interrupted me.

"Don...your Don."

The man chuckled.

"That's right, I'm Don. It's time to pay for what you did to me in Biloxi."

"I didn't do anything to you."

The guy stepped into the arc of the street light then. He looked old. His face was wrinkled and what hair I could see around the ball cap was white. He raised his right arm then and I saw the pistol. His voice went up in pitch as he spit out the words.

"Yes you did, you fucking little bitch. You ratted me out to the cops. I spent two years in hell because of you and when I got out I couldn't find you. I thought you were dead until last week.

"I saw your picture on the news in Atlanta and drove here to see for myself. When you came out of that nut house with this guy, I knew it was you so I followed you here. Get in the fucking car. Boyfriend, you drive while I sit in the back. We're gonna take us a little ride out in the country."

Cindy was trembling and her voice was shaky.

"So you can kill me like you said you would?"

"Yeah, something like that, 'cept you and me, we're gonna have us a little fun first. I'll let your boyfriend watch while you suck my dick for me. Now, get in the fucking car, and you, asshole, don't try anything or I'll pop you both right here."

I patted Cindy on the arm and then walked around to the driver's side of the SUV. He couldn't see me while I stood on my right leg and fumbled trying to get the key in the lock with my left hand. He also didn't see my right hand lift my left pant leg and pull the snub thirty eight from the ankle holster I carry as a backup and when off duty. When I had the revolver in my hand, I stepped sideways until I had a clear shot over the hood and yelled, "Police. Drop the weapon."

He turned toward me and I saw a flash of fire leave the muzzle of his pistol and then the loud bang. Cindy screamed when the passenger side window of my car shattered. He was turning toward her when I pulled the trigger twice.

Cindy screamed again when my first shot caught the guy in the center of his chest. The pistol fell out of his hand as he started to go down. Since he was falling, my second shot hit a little higher. I ran around my car, kicked the pistol away from his body, and then turned to Cindy.

"Cindy, are you OK."

She was sobbing.

"No, I'm not."

I put my arms around her and held her until she stopped crying. Then, I lifted her chin and looked her in the eyes.

"Cindy, did you know this guy?"

She nodded.

"When I heard his voice, I remembered being arrested. He was the guy who sold me the marijuana. When I got arrested, the police said if I told them who sold it to me, I'd get a shorter sentence. That's all I remember. Is he dead?"

"He can't bother you anymore."

I put Cindy in my car and then used my cell phone to call the station. Ten minutes later, two patrol cars and the EMT's drove up. I explained what had gone down and handed them my revolver, and then took Cindy back to the station with me while they cleaned up the mess. After getting us both a cup of coffee, I sat her down in an interrogation room.

"Cindy, I know this is hard, but do you remember the guy's full name?"

"Don Wilson, at least that's what the police said when they told me I had to testify against him."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"Yes, but it's just bits and pieces from then. I remember being on the witness stand and saying it was him who sold me the marijuana. He jumped up and said he'd get me."

I patted her on the arm.

"Well, he can't get you now. You just sit tight. I'm going to find out who he was."

Don had a long history but only two convictions. Cindy's testimony had put him away for two years. Once he got out, he'd made his way up through the Dixie Mafia until he controlled the drug sales for Mississippi, Alabama, and most of Georgia. Along the way, he'd been arrested multiple times on charges ranging from dealing drugs to murder, but hadn't been convicted on any of the them. The witnesses who were supposed to testify had always either changed their story once on the witness stand or had gone missing a few days before the trials.

He was fifty-six by the time he made the mistake of letting an underling into his inner circle. That underling was an undercover cop. Don and most of his lieutenants went down for a variety of charges, and he spent the next fifteen years in prison. He'd been out for about a year, but had apparently retired. There weren't any other arrests or other entries on his record.

I had a report to write and it couldn't wait until morning. Cindy was sitting in the chair with her fingers interlocked and she was rocking back and forth. I gently separated them and held her hands in mine.

"Cindy, I have to write a report tonight. I'll get another officer to take you back to New Beginnings."

"No, please don't do that. I don't want to go anywhere with anybody else, not after this. Can't I just stay here with you until you get done?"

I finished the report at three AM, read it over, and then dropped it in the Captain's inbox. Then I went to the lounge where I'd left Cindy.

She was asleep on the couch and I hated to wake her, but it was late and I was beat. I'd called New Beginnings before I started my report and told them she'd be late getting back. They hadn't called the station yet, but if I didn't get her back soon, they probably would. I shook her arm gently.

"Cindy, wake up. It's time to leave."

She stretched, then opened her eyes.

"Are you going to take me back to New Beginnings?"

"That's what I'd planned to do. I'm about done in and I need to go home and sleepl"

"I'd feel safer if I was with you. Can't I just sleep on your couch? I don't want to be alone tonight."

She looked so afraid I couldn't say no to her. I called New Beginnings again and told them she'd be at the station until sometime the next day.

I thought I was probably dreaming when my alarm went off at six the next morning, because I always shut it off before I go to bed on Friday night. I was sure I was dreaming when I shut it off and then turned over to go back to sleep because my arm touched something smooth and soft. I was sure anyway, until I heard Cindy's voice.

"Do you always wake up this early?"

She was sitting up in bed beside me, and the smooth, soft thing my arm had touched had to be her thigh. She had a pillow over her breasts so I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked a lot like she was naked. I looked up at her smiling face.

"Cindy, what are you doing in my bed?"

"It was lonely on your couch. I thought it wouldn't be as lonely in here. I tried to wake you up to tell you, but wouldn't wake up."

Well, that was probably true. When I'm really tired, I wouldn't wake up if a bomb went off outside my bedroom window.

"Uh...it doesn't look like you have many clothes on."

Cindy smiled again.

"I always sleep in the nude...I think."

"That means I'll have to get up first so you can get dressed while I'm in the bathroom."

"Well, it could mean that...but it doesn't have to."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I remembered something else while you were writing your report. Since I was in high school, when I felt sad or depressed about something, there was only one thing that made me feel better. I feel pretty depressed after last night. I need to forget what I remembered for a while."

"What would make you forget?"

Cindy pulled the pillow from her breasts and tossed it on the floor.

"This, unless you don't want me. I was hoping you would. I really, really need you to want me."

When I didn't say anything, Cindy snuggled up to my side. I felt her bare thigh slide over mine, and then the tickle of hair against my leg. She kissed me, then put her cheek against mine.

"I want this so much. Just go easy for a while. I don't remember how long it's been."

I wasn't sure, that morning, if it was just the emotional stress from the night before or if it was just how Cindy was, but she became the vision I'd always had about the woman I'd spend my life with. It wasn't the soft, sensuous body she tried to press against me and it wasn't the way she responded to every touch. It was more like...well, it just felt right, like she was what I'd been waiting a long time for.

She did respond to every touch, and that response had me wanting to take her fast because I needed to, but at the same time knowing that wasn't what she needed. It was the way she responded that told me that, I guess.

Her nipples stiffened at the first touch, and she purred out a little moan when I stroked the tips. I felt her press her mound into my leg and cupped her hip to pull her closer. She rocked her hips once, and then eased her body on top of me. When she raised up on her arms, she pushed her left breast against my cheek, and then shuddered when the nipple brushed my lips.