Memory Lapse: A Slater Vance Novel (5 page)

A red stain crept up her
neck before she answered, “Perfectly. Now if that’s all, I’d like you to
leave.”

Slater remained leant
towards her for another moment before standing and walking out the door without
another word.

Honey blew out a breath
once Slater had gone. Her heart pounded in her chest. Was she using the Father?
She didn’t think so. She’d die if he got hurt because of her. Could the Father
be hurt because of whatever was in her past? She hoped not.

As she sat trying to
untangle her nerves from Slater’s visit and threats, she watched the wind catch
the limb of the tree outside her window, causing it sway in the breeze. She
watched as a leaf floated gently past her window. For the
briefest
of a second, the smallest wisp of a very cloudy vision filled her mind. She saw
a pair of very small hands reaching up to catch a similar leaf before it hit
the ground. Leaning forward in her wheelchair, Honey tried to latch onto the
thought/memory but it fluttered away before she could capture it.

Honey balled her fist up
in her lap in sheer frustration. There was something there. Something
important, but it just wouldn’t come.

 

◊◊◊

 

Upon leaving Honey
Luscious’s
room, Slater made his way down to the
Administrator’s office. As Ben Gardner wasn’t in, Slater left the signed
release of information form with his secretary with instructions on what
information he wanted. He asked it be given as soon as possible. Slater wanted
this case, or at least his part of it, done
toot
-sweet,
as his mom used to say.

Slater’s next stop was to
the Charleston PD and Thompson Bridges. Slater had been happy to learn Bridge
was the detective assigned to the case. He and Bridge went way back, all the
way to high school. In fact, they’d played football together for all four years.
They’d lost touch when Slater had left for the military but had run into each
occasionally over the years. While Bridge was new as a detective, he’d been
with the CPD since graduating high school.

Bridge stood when he
spied Slater coming through the door. “As I live and breathe, if it isn’t
the
Slater ‘Pretty-Boy’ Vance.”

Slater grinned at the
nickname given to him by Bridge their first year playing football together.

“Pretty is as pretty
does. Or so I’ve been told. Hell, anybody would be pretty compared to you, you
big ugly brute,” Slater said with a grin.

They both grinned as they
grabbed into a quick hug and handshake.

“So tell me, what’s going
on in the world to the have the illustrious Slater Vance lower his standards
enough to grace us with his presence down at the lowly Charleston PD?” Bridge
said with a grin.

“According to my brother,
it makes us appreciate what we have more when we see those who are less
fortunate,” Slater quirked back.

“Ah,
your brother.
Does this have anything to do Honey Luscious?”

Tapping the side of his
nose, Slater grinned at Bridge. “Boy, they sure picked the right guy for this
job, didn’t
they.
What,
are
you psychic or something?”

“Not psychic, this is
your good government money at work.
Simple deduction
,
my friend.
I just saw your
brother this week and now you’re here. One plus one, Pretty-Boy,” Bridge
laughed.

Slater handed Bridge
Honey’s release of information. “My brother has decided to add Honey into his
collection of strays, so now I’ve been commandeered to assist. Can you show me
what you found?”

“Be happy to. It’ll be a
short read, unfortunately,” Bridge answered while rummaging through his desk.

He pulled out a manila
folder with the name Jane Doe scratched out and Honey Luscious written over it.

“This is all we have. We
ran her prints, but she wasn’t in the system. There wasn’t any ID at the scene.
In fact, the only personal thing we know about her is that the paramedics said
she was mumbling something about her pet. Not that any pets were found at or
around the scene. So the only thing we found was her name on the car
registration,” Bridge supplied.

“What was your take when
you met her?” Slater asked.

“I have to admit she
wasn’t what I expected. I mean, she seems a little soft to be a hooker.
Normally, they all have that hard edge about them. You’d think with a name like
Honey Luscious, she’d be… well, rougher. That’s the only way I can put it. You
know, rode hard and put away wet kind of thing,” Bridge observed.

“Did you believe the
whole memory loss thing?” Slater asked.

“The doctors and hospital
shrinks all seem to believe her. Who am I to question it?” he answered.

“Okay, I’ll ask around,
cover all the bases. If you get anything on her, would you let me know?” Slater
asked.

“You bet.
 
Anything for you Pretty-Boy
Vance.
I’d appreciate the same,” Bridge responded.

“Sure thing and thanks,”
Slater said, standing to shake hands with Bridge.

Slater left the police
department en route to the accident scene. He pulled his black SUV with its
black-tinted windows up to the mile marker closest to the reported accident
site. He removed his aviator sunglasses and stood with his foot resting on the
running board of his SUV, looking at the deserted stretch of road he found
himself on. The thought crept into his mind – his cynical mind – that if you
wanted to run someone off the road, this would be the perfect place… or hook up
with someone. He grinned at his own wordage.

Slowly he closed the door
of the SUV and walked towards the jagged guardrail. He saw the skid marks on
the road leading to the railing. He crossed to the road and squatted on his
haunches, examining the marks. Rising, he followed them from start to finish.
All was as he expected until he reached the guardrail. He was surprised to find
marks continuing past the rail on the road, away from the railing. Taking out
his camera, he snapped a picture of the marks.

Slater walked to the
guardrail and peered into the deep ravine beyond. From this angle, it was
impossible to see the bottom due to the trees, so walking to the split in the
rail,
he began the slow decline to the bottom. He’d gotten
about halfway down when he came upon a blouse. Then a little further he came
upon a scarf, and then a shoe. He was stopped in his tracks when he came upon a
teddy bear. Had there been a child in the car? Was there a child out here? If
so, it would be dead by now. He reached down and picked up the dirty, sodden
stuffed animal. With a shake of his head, he continued to the bottom. The bear
could have been here for a week or several months. It might not have had
anything to with Honey
Luscious’s
accident.

Once he got to the bottom
of the ravine, he walked the perimeter of the base. It took him fifteen minutes
to find the powder-blue suitcase, which had busted open during the fall.
Picking through the items in the case that had managed to stay in it, he was
surprised to find very conservative clothing enclosed within. There were no
nighties, no sexy lingerie,
no
items you’d expect to
see in the suitcase of a known hooker. He flipped through all the items, not
finding any identifying items. No names, no addresses, no identifiers of any
kind.

He flipped the suitcase
over, dumping all the items onto the ground. Running his fingers around the
edge of the liner, he sought to find any loose bindings or hiding places. He
went over the lid and the bottom, and started on the lining of the sides when
his fingers caught a snag. Slipping his fingers inside the small,
deliberately-made slit, he pulled the lining completely off, revealing a small
photo of a younger Honey with short-cropped hair sitting in a wheelchair,
holding a small baby bundled tight in a blanket. It looked like the type of
photo taken when a baby is first born and you’re celebrating your first trip
home.

Slater studied the photo
carefully, looking for any identifiers in the picture, but the shot was close
up and revealed very little beyond the mother and child. Why would anyone need
to hide this photo in a suitcase lining? Flipping the photo over, Slater wasn’t
surprised to find nothing written on it.

So Honey had a child.
Slater felt his chest tighten and began to look around in an almost frantic
pace. He scouted the surrounding base and then trailed up and down the
embankment until the muscles in his legs burned from the effort. He was
satisfied there was no child down here… dead or otherwise.

Going back to the
suitcase, Slater stuffed all the items he could find back into the case before
snapping it closed. Slowly, he made his way back up the embankment, pausing to
pick up the teddy bear he’d dropped during his frantic search. All the way to
the top of the rise, Slater kept his eyes peeled for a purse or wallet. But he
doubted he’d be that lucky to wrap up this case in the space of one hour. His
thoughts lingered on the photo of Honey and the baby. She looked so young and
less guarded; happy. Where was the baby?
The father?
Why hadn’t anyone placed a missing person report for her? It was almost as if
she’d stopped existing.

Placing his finds into
the SUV, Slater walked to the opposite side of the road and walked down its
ravine, but didn’t have the luck of the other side. Getting into his SUV, he
slowly began driving forward. He’d driven about two miles when he saw a sign
for a rest area. Needing caffeine, he pulled in and rummaged in his cigarette
tray for change. Sliding out of the SUV, he glanced around the area and found
it deserted. Probably not a lot of travelers along this stretch of road, he
thought. Seeing the trash cans sporadically placed around the area, he wandered
by each one, looking into their depths. He passed four and had three more to go
when he found one with something stuffed inside. Snapping on a latex glove, he
reached his hand in and pulled out a man’s bloody shirt. Checking it over for
identifiers, he wasn’t surprised to not find any. As it was the only item in
the can, he dropped the shirt back into the trash can liner and took the liner
with the shirt contained within. He didn’t know if this had anything to do with
Honey’s accident, but better safe than sorry, again, as his mother always said.

After stopping by his
office and returning a few calls, Slater locked the bloody shirt in his wall
safe and left again within in the space of an hour.

Heading back to the
hospital, Slater thought about all he’d discovered. He wondered what difference
it really made. He still didn’t know any more about the woman lying in the
hospital other than the name Honey Luscious. He had serious doubts that she was
a prostitute. He wasn’t even sure why it mattered to him one way or the other.
He guessed, in a way, he was happy that least his brother would be safe from
any criminal elements associated with the real Honey Luscious. But there was
something going on with her. Every fiber in his body warned him to be careful…
cautious. She had skeletons in her closet, of this he was certain.

Arriving back at the
hospital, Slater stopped by Ben Gardner’s office prior to going up to Honey’s
room. After receiving permission from him, Slater made his way to Doctor
Groder’s
office.

While the doctor was
busy, he was currently in between patients and agreed to meet for ten minutes.
Slater didn’t like Doctor
Groder
on sight. He was a
sleek-mouthed man who was the type to rise to the top on the backs of others.
Slater knew this instinctively from the expensive haircut, manicure, even the
suit he wore – a suit he probably valued more than his family, and by the man’s
pretentiousness. The man was placed in a position to help others, but the only
help he’d ever bestow would be for his own good.

But Slater had years of
experience in knowing how to restrain his true feelings and keep them to
himself. With a smooth, blank expression firmly affixed to his face, Slater
strolled forward and proffered his hand to the pompous Doctor
Groder
.

“Doctor
Groder
, good morning.
Slater Vance.”

“Mr.
Vance, how nice to meet you.
I’ve heard many good things about you from your brother.
He’s very proud of you and your accomplishments,”
Groder
gushed insincerely.

“Glad I’ve got him
fooled. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” Slater answered
pleasantly.

“Too
true, too true.
What can I do for you? I’ve received your request for information. Please feel
free to ask me anything,” Doctor
Groder
said.

“What can you tell me
about Honey Luscious?”

“Well, she was admitted
through the ER with injuries sustained in a reported vehicular accident. Her
left femur was broken in two places and her right
humerus
was broken. Her clavicle was broken, and she suffered from severe head trauma.
The Psychologist on duty, Doctor Brewer, said the trauma left her in what he
called a dissociative fugue. That is her inability to remember personal items.”

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