Protect and Correct Page 2

  She closed her eyes, thinking over the events that occurred prior to waking in the hospital room and discovering that life, as she knew it, was over. She worked for a forensic investigation agency, exposing medical and insurance fraud. She loved the job but loathed the people she worked with. The owners were described by the workforce as rude, misogynous, homophobic Aryans, who delighted in ridiculing and demeaning anyone who did not fit into their ideal mind-set. She was just one of the several people in the company who was constantly assaulted by their attacks for being overweight, of biracial descent, unattractive, and the worst offense—female.

  Strong references from her previous position as an assistant coroner led her to be hired, sight unseen, as the chief analyst. The owners had attempted to renege on their offer when they were confronted with her gender and her appearance, but they bitterly acquiesced after she boldly threatened a discrimination lawsuit. She had worked under their tyranny and prejudice for three years, biding her time until something better came her way. She reached the end of her tolerance, however, after she caught both of them in the lunchroom engaged in sexual relations with one of the marketers. They had flooded her ears with threats of ‘uncomfortable circumstances’ should she share her discovery with either of their wives.

  Mentally, she began her list of suspects. Bill Marvin was a coward. If he was responsible, then it would have meant his hiring some thug to do his dirty work. Dan Adams, the company’s vice president, was psychotic enough to do almost anything. She knew his history of termination for embezzlement and that he had been sued for multiple counts of sexual harassment and assault. She assumed he escaped imprisonment simply because his partner, Bill, had illicit connections with several congressmen. Would Dan’s fear of his wife discovering his little adventure be enough to push him to attempt murder?

  But what of the other seven people? What did they have in common to attract this psycho? Brooke yawned, feeling the effect from the medication as it lulled her to sleep. As her world began to drift from her grasp, she made a promise to herself that perhaps one day, she would both confront, and thank, her would-be murderer for giving her a means to change the life she hated.

  * * *

  Six weeks later, Brooke waited impatiently on the edge of her hospital bed for Collin. She was adorned in a long sleeved dress, flat-heeled boots, a soft knitted cap, and a scarf. Her strength was quickly returning, and she was growing accustomed to the new face and body that greeted her in the mirror every morning. Collin had been by her side during the entire healing process, urging her to remembrance. She knew he was disappointed to learn that she had nothing new to share other than her previous job situation and the emotionally neglectful marriage she had been involved in. No memories of the abduction had surfaced as of yet, nor was she eager to explore them.

  “Ready to go, kiddo?” Collin asked, entering her room.

  Brooke looked up. “I hate when you call me that. I must be the same age as you.”

  “Wrong. I have several years on you, even in your old life. But thank you. It’s nice to know I still look young. And if I want to call you kiddo, I will. We are married now.” He offered a lopsided grin.

  “What?”

  Collin laughed, catching the hat that she flung at him. “Chill, pipsqueak. It is our paper trail, a ruse. It looks better for a couple to set up residence in a new area. Especially a happily married one.”

  “Why the hell would I be happily married to you? You are nothing but a bore! An arrogant, self-righteous…”

  “Are you still angry with me for refusing your help on tracking this criminal? I told you ‘no’. It was ‘no’ the first time you asked me and remained ‘no’ every day for the last six weeks. Simple as that. I don’t care if you have a background in investigation, a master’s in forensics, or even if you served as one of Santa’s elves for the last two thousand years. You are emotionally involved in the search, and your findings would be considered biased. The answer is still ‘no’, and I am not going to keep repeating myself.”

  “I swear I will wear you down with this. I know what I am doing!”

  “Listen up, little girl,” Collin drew his tanned face close to hers and whispered into her ear, “if you wear my patience down, I promise to wear your tail end down. Don’t push me. I assure you that you will receive no enjoyment out of the bare-assed paddling you will get from me.”

  Brooke gasped, glaring at him. “You are unbelievable. Why don’t you just lay off with the threats already?”

  “I don’t threaten, dear. I thought I made that clear in the beginning. Let’s get moving; we have a long drive ahead.”

  Before Brooke could comment, Dr. Nguyen walked across the room, carrying a basket of bath soaps, oils, and lotions.

  “A wedding gift! Thanks, Doc,” Collin exclaimed, reaching for it.

  “Keep your grubby hands to yourself, Detective. This is for Brooke. I am gonna miss you,” she said, hugging the younger woman.

  “I will miss you too, Doc. And tell your Neanderthal friend here to stop making threats against my person.”

  “Collin! Are you still threatening to spank this girl? You look like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary. You need to stop,” Dr. Nguyen scolded. “She has already suffered enough mental anguish without you adding to it.”

  “You know damn well I never threaten, Denise. You might want to tell her that, as well as to stop gawking at me and get a move on. I want to make some tracks before I fall flat on my face from exhaustion,” Collin commanded, flicking Brooke’s nose.

  “It might be an improvement to that mug. I don’t know about the pavement,” she retorted as her hand flew to the offended tip, making him laugh.

  Dr. Nguyen once again hugged the young woman. “You’re good to go, my dear. You have healed 100% and can do anything you wish with this wonderful, new body of yours. If you need me for anything, go through the bully. Listen to his instructions, even if you don’t care for them. They are in place to save your life.”

  “Would it be okay to contact you in the event I am tempted to cause him bodily harm?” Brooke asked wearily as the tall man impatiently tapped his foot and watch simultaneously.

  “Only if he needs his pretty face fixed. Be safe.”

  Collin said quick farewells and led Brooke down the emergency staircase to the parking garage, where a sage green Prius waited for them. He opened the door for Brooke to enter, and without a word, reached across her body to grab her seatbelt and buckled her in place.

  “I am very capable of buckling my own seatbelt, thank you.”

  “You are most welcome, Mrs. Doyle,” he answered, ignoring the flippant statement.

  “I have the feeling that this is not going to be a pleasant trip. You are already annoying the hell out of me. Must we drive?”

  “We must. It will give us time to develop our story for when we arrive at our destination,” Collin said, starting the car.

  “And where is that?”

  “Maine. I have a sweet little house there for you to decorate.”

  “Hey! Just because I am a woman does not mean that I can do girly things. I am offended.” Brooke crossed her arms with a pout.

  “Oh, you will be offended when you see the place. I figured I would kill two birds with one stone. You will witness my personal idea of protection, and my house will get a facelift.”

  “Did you seriously make a statement like that after everything I have been through?”

  Collin simply laughed and started along the road to their new, temporary life. Brooke stared through the rain-splattered window as they began their dreary drive north, while Collin sang—very loudly and even more poorly—to the country music station.

  “Must you do that?” she asked with annoyance, feeling a headache coming on after being on the road for less than an hour.

  “You don’t like my singing, kiddo?”

  “I would rather hear a cat getting its tail caught under a rocking chair. I honestly believed that the term ton
e-deaf was made up. Until now.”

  “Ow! Okay then, let’s talk about our story.”

  “Can’t you just drive without making noise? Collin, will you please mellow out? One word… decaf.”

  “That is a good idea. We should stop for coffee.” He then started to sing the ditty to the Folgers coffee commercial,

  Brooke groaned. “I know as a fact that you are doing this to annoy me. The question is why? Are you always this energetic?”

  “Yup. I am also a self-proclaimed comedian and crack myself up as the Pun-Fu Master. Add to that the fact that I have had very little sleep the last few weeks and am presently fighting an ancient Chinese disease.”

  “A disease? Oh, my! I’m sorry, what is it?” Brooke asked with genuine concern.

  Collin’s face twitched. “Dragon Ass.”

  Brooke moaned, rolling her eyes. “That was terrible. Keep your day job, okay?”

  “You are my day job, peanut. How are you holding up with all this?”

  Brooke took a deep breath, staring out at the wet gray road and the dense tree line of dull-green and brown. “Denise has asked me that question every day since I woke up. My answer is still the same. I am indifferent. I only want to find this guy and…”

  “I told you that this particular discussion is off the table. Explain what you mean by indifferent?”

  “I am living the dream of so many women around the world. I wake up to find myself in a new body with a decent face, offered a life far from the miserable one I had, and am stuck with a semi-attractive, albeit controlling guy who wants to whisk me away as his pretend wife and force me to spend his money decorating a house I have never seen,” she blurted out in a single breath. “What’s not to be excited about?”

  “You don’t sound very excited.”

  “I am glad to know that sarcasm is not lost on you, Detective Golde.”

  “Mr. Doyle, your loving new husband, remember? Do you miss anything from your old life, Brooke?”

  “Only the freedom of not being watched 24/7. Other than that, no. I don’t even miss my old name. Who came up with this one, by the way?”

  “Me, of course. I had to find one that sounded good on my lips for when I need to scold you.”

  “Haha, very funny. I do like it though. It is very… feminine. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure. You do know that there are not that many people in your situation who have the opportunity to reinvent their lives. What do you want to do with this second chance once this mess is finally over?”

  “Collin, listen… I don’t mean to be rude, but be serious. Someone tried to kill me after tearing my face from my body. He stole not just my past, but the future I could have made for myself. He raped me of my freedom. Do you honestly think I can find pleasure in knowing that this happened? I am terrified and angry. I don’t want to reinvent a new life. I want to hide in the one I knew and go back to pretend that things were different.”

  “You don’t have to pretend anymore. Things are different. Nothing either of us can say or do will change that.”

  “I just wish I had been given a choice,” Brooke released a bitter sigh.

  “What would you have chosen? What would your dream life look like?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I really don’t want to talk at all.”

  “Then don’t talk. You can just sit and listen. I was married for eleven years to my high school sweetheart. We had these great plans to fix up the house and start a family. She wanted me to take dance lessons, but I always had an excuse to do something else…” His voice dropped. “Anyway, we got into a huge fight when she said she wanted to go to a coffee shop and listen to this guy play guitar. I was not interested, and after several minutes of shouting back and forth, I told her that if it was so damn important, she could go by herself. The next thing I knew, there was a cop at my door. She had driven her car into a water-pocket and flew over the bank of the road…”

  “I’m sorry, Collin,” Brooke whispered.

  “I am telling you this because I learned something very important that day. Do not ever waste an opportunity because of your pride. The cost is much too high.”

  A moment passed in silence before Brooke spoke up. “I have never been to Nebraska or even seen a corn field. Can we find another place where the imaginary me supposedly grew up?”

  Collin reached over to squeeze her hand. “Certainly. Whatever makes you happy, pipsqueak.”

  “Start by finding me another nickname.”

  “Anything you say, munchkin.”

  Brooke groaned in resignation.

  Chapter Two

  The rain poured down in heavy gray sheets as they continued to drive. Collin had coerced Brooke into making up a story about how they met and the factors involved in their deciding to move into the area. Brooke reluctantly found herself engaged by the jovial man’s chatter, while also managing to gain some information regarding the case.

  “So these people had nothing in common? Were we just randomly chosen as targets?” she asked casually, sipping a Coke through a straw and feigning disinterest.

  “The common factor we have found is that none of you have any known relatives or children, and that you had lived in Philadelphia at one point of your lives. Incidentally, you were the only married victim and coincidentally in a relationship that had little value to either of you,” Collin sighed. “This whole thing is perplexing to me.”

  “No specific geographic location? Age group? Common interests? Sexual orientation?”

  “None found thus far. Two of the victims, a man and woman, were gay. Another victim was African American. Two biracial, three had a college education, another was a high school dropout… and everyone worked different jobs. There were no common physical characteristics either.”

  Brooke thought after a moment. “All of us once lived in Philadelphia, right? “

  “Yeah. It is a big city and…”

  “Were we all there at the same time? What brought us to the area?”

  “I’m not certain…”

  “Had any of them ever served on a jury? Or been involved on the same trial? I was with the Philly coroner’s office. Maybe this guy is someone they found guilty, and I served as an expert witness. I’ll bet if you pulled up the county records…”

  Collin glanced at her with a frown. “I told you not to try to solve this, Brooke. Change the subject.”

  “Did I just come up with something that the Great Mouse Detective didn’t think of?” Brooke grinned sardonically.

  “That’s enough out of you. Are you hungry?”

  “I bet you are a sore loser, aren’t you? Oh, don’t give me the ugly face. Save it for when I beat your ass playing poker.”

  “Watch out, kiddo. You won’t like what ends up being sore if you keep this up.”

  “Stop threatening my ass, will you? You’re not the boss of me.”

  “That was a mature comeback,” Collin grumbled good-naturedly, pulling into a steakhouse parking lot. “Stay in the car until I come around.”

  “I am not going to melt. I—”

  “You are technically my wife now, and my responsibility. Do as you are told. Or else.”

  Brooke wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. There was something about the man that made her want to rebel against everything he said. Just because! He opened the door for her and helped her out, guarding her as best as he could with the umbrella. Cold rainwater splashed around her boots as she stepped onto the black pavement, and she paused to glance at the dim lights reflecting off the wet surface. There had been a parking lot. It had been wet and familiar, a place she had been before. She froze in place with her eyes closed as she struggled to recall more detail.

  Brooke startled as Collin’s warm arm rested on her shoulders. As he drew her close to his chest in protection from the angry storm and led her inside, Brooke struggled with the silent admission that she enjoyed being treated as though she had value. Although this show was no
thing more than a theatrical display, his touch felt possessive, his strong fingers gripped firmly around her upper arm as he held her tucked against him. Brooke wanted to believe that they were at least becoming friends and that this embrace had an element of genuine care in it.

  She sighed loudly, not meeting his eye as they slid into the dark booth in the corner of the dining room. The reminder that he was using her to catch a serial killer and had no use for her beyond that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Collin asked as he opened the wine list.

  “I’m not much of a drinker. Maybe something sweet?”

  “I know just the thing, Late Harvest Riesling for the lady, please. Coffee, for me. Leaded, if you don’t mind.”

  “You’re not drinking?”

  “Not when I drive. I want to get a few more hours down the road before we stop for the night.” He smiled, his dimples etched in both bronzed cheeks. “One of us has to be the responsible adult here.”

  “That is frightening if you are making that claim for yourself,” Brooke retorted, burying her face in the menu.

  Collin trained his eye on her. “Wanna tell me what crawled up your butt and died within the last ten minutes?” he asked, putting his menu down and removing her menu from her hands.

  “What makes you say that? I am not done looking, so give that back to me.”

  “Two things. One,” he watched as she downed the glass of wine in a single tip, “you won’t look at me in the eye. And two, your attitude sucks more than normal.”

  “My attitude is no less sucky than usual. As for looking you in the eye,” she scowled, “maybe I just don’t want to ruin my appetite.”

  “Enough with the insults, pipsqueak. I know something is bothering you. I make a living observing and studying human nature and noticing change. Out with it, or I will take you straight to the car and give you something to pout about. I am tired, and my patience level is at an all-time low.”