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Christmas Witness Pursuit
Christmas Witness Pursuit
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Christmas Witness Pursuit

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“I say we worry about that when the time comes,” Marci said.

“You’re right.” Tory drew in a deep breath while trying at the same time to shake the fear that had taken hold. “I’m safe for now, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your generosity. All three of you.”

“We’re happy to help,” Griffin said.

She forced herself to finish eating the rest of her stew—a family recipe that called for elk meat hunted on their land, she’d been told, passed down from Griffin’s great-grandmother. While she sure would have enjoyed the meal if circumstances had been different, at the moment it was tasteless.

Marci stood from the table as soon as everyone had finished and caught her son’s gaze. “Why don’t the two of you go relax in the other room while your father and I clean up? You both look exhausted. I have some cobbler with berries from our summer garden and vanilla ice cream, if you’re interested.”

Tory scooted her chair back from the table. “Let me at least help clean up first.”

Marci waved away her request. “You go relax. I insist. Besides, I have the world’s number-one dishwasher right here beside me.”

Jacob’s brow crinkled when he laughed. “How did I know that was coming?”

Tory looked to Griffin.

“It’s not worth arguing with them,” he said. “They always win.”

“While you’re at it,” his mother continued, “try not to think too hard about what you can’t remember. Doctor’s orders.”

Tory smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go on into the living room,” Griffin said. “I’ll bring you some of the dessert.”

She nodded, feeling spoiled but too tired to argue, and went to stand in front of the Christmas tree. She breathed in the scent of fresh pine from the lighted green tree that no doubt had come from the ranch. White lights flickered against multicolored glass ornaments. She’d hoped that sitting around the table with his family would jog her mind and bring up memories of Christmas dinners, birthday parties and anniversaries from her own past. She had to have experienced those things at some point growing up.

But whatever those memories were, they were still lost for the moment.

Two minutes later Griffin handed her a bowl of cobbler with ice cream and stood beside her at the tree. “You seem deep in thought. What are you thinking about?”

“The one thing I can’t forget.” She couldn’t help but shake her head at the irony as she took a spoon from him. For someone who’d lost most of her memories, there was one she couldn’t shake. “He’s out there, Griffin. And his escape ups the stakes. He’s going to come after me himself.”

“Maybe, but if I were him, I’d forget about any witnesses and simply flee the country.”

“Don’t you think that’s easier said than done?”

“Probably. But he’s got to have plenty of money and resources to set himself up on some island and live out the rest of his days sitting in the sun.”

Needing a distraction, she reached up and touched a glass snowman hanging on one of the branches. “I’m guessing you didn’t pick this tree up at a local farm.”

“No. Comes from right here. We always head out into the woods the day after Thanksgiving and find the perfect tree for my mom.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“Christmas is a pretty big deal around here, even now that we’re all grown up.”

“What do you do?” she asked.

He took a bite of his dessert. “Besides helping my mom with the decorations here, there’s the annual Christmas parade and concert in town, and volunteering for the Giving Tree at church that helps families in our community who are in need.”

“That all sounds fun.”

“It is my favorite time of the year.”

She followed him to the couch and sat next to him before sampling a bite of ice cream and berries. She knew she needed to relax, but her mind wouldn’t stop working on the what-ifs.

“I’m guessing you’re not really in the Christmas mood right now,” he added.

“Not really. I keep thinking about the file we read through. It said that Jinx normally lets his soldiers handle all his dirty work,” she told him. “It’s one reason why the man has never been caught. But it also said that this time was different. He shot that couple himself. That must mean their deaths were personal. And what he didn’t count on was having a witness.”

“What are you thinking?” Griffin asked.

“I’ve been going over and over in my head about what you said about my having information he wants.”

“And...”

“I still can’t remember anything, but my gut tells me you’re right.” She set her dessert on her lap, her appetite soured. “I just can’t pull up the information.”

“My mom was right. Try not to think about it. I have a feeling the more you try to bring those memories to the surface, the harder it’s going to be.”

“Maybe, but it’s the not knowing that makes me feel the most vulnerable. Like I’ve somehow stepped into a gunfight but I have nothing to defend myself. This is something I don’t know how to deal with. I can’t keep my brain from spinning.”

“There is something else to consider.”

She drew in a deep breath. “What’s that?”

“My mom told me it’s possible that memory loss can come from witnessing something traumatic. Like the car wreck and the agents being shot.”

Tory worked to process what he said as she tried digging into the cobbler, not liking the implications. “Meaning I’m too afraid to remember.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I guess I’d like to think I’m stronger than that. I work in the emergency room, which goes to reason that I’ve witnessed a lot of traumatic situations.”

Whether it was true or not, the thought made her feel as if she were weak. As if her mind couldn’t handle what she had seen and had literally shut down. As far as she was concerned, the lump on the back of her head sounded like a more realistic option. But either way, her memories still refused to surface.

Griffin shook his head. “This has nothing to do with how strong you are. That’s how God created your mind. A kind of protection when having to face something traumatic. Maybe things are different because, this time, the trauma was directed toward you.”

She took another bite of the tart berries with the sweet ice cream. Like, witnessing an agent shot dead in front of her. Was that enough to erase her memories? She might not know for sure, but there was one thing she was certain of. Not being able to do anything about it made her feel helpless.

“Your parents are sweet—and your mom is such a good cook,” she said. “I just hope they know how much I appreciate their taking me in.”

“They enjoy company and are known to spoil their boys every once in a while.”

“I’ll admit I don’t mind being spoiled a bit. And this is delicious.”

“I told you you’d feel safe here. I want you to feel safe here.”

She caught the intensity in Griffin’s eyes and wondered why he was doing this. In reality, he didn’t have to. She was pretty certain that guarding an FBI witness wasn’t anywhere in his job description, and he could have easily passed it on to someone else. But, for some reason, she was glad he had taken the job. Because there was something about his presence that was calming and reassuring. Something about him that made her want to pull back the layers and find out everything there was to know about him.

Especially since uncovering exactly who she was seemed impossible at the moment.

“It’s strange to think I don’t have any family,” she said, giving in to the need to probe beyond the surface. “There’s got to be someone out there who’s worried about me. Someone who knew what I was doing. I don’t even know if I have a significant other.”

Her gaze shifted back to the tree with a dozen presents already beneath it. Had she put up a tree back home? Were there presents underneath it? How could she forget something like that?

“Have any more memories surfaced?” he asked.

“Not really. I went over the FBI file half a dozen times before dinner, certain something would jog my memory, but so far it’s still just a bunch of foggy details, with nothing more than a few impressions.” She took another bite of her dessert. “Though I’ve learned that I like ice cream and berry cobbler way too much.”

“I’d think something was seriously wrong with you if you didn’t.”

“Funny.” She couldn’t help but notice how his eyes smiled and how his brown eyes had flecks of gold in them.

“And I’ve learned a few more things about you,” he said.

“Like?” She sat back and waited for him to continue.

“You’re strong. You have a sense of humor.” Griffin paused. “And you’re beautiful.”

“I’m guessing I blush at compliments, as well.”

He smiled back, but she didn’t like the way he stirred her heart. She couldn’t remember what she ate for breakfast yesterday, let alone if there was someone else in her life. This definitely wasn’t the time or place to be feeling the tug of an attraction. All she was going to end up with was a broken heart. And somehow—despite everything she’d forgotten—she knew she’d had at least one of those.

Griffin studied Tory for a moment while she dug into her dessert, wondering why he’d said something so...personal. She was beautiful, but to say it out loud?

Still, there was something different about her from most women he met—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Despite the alarming situation she was being forced to deal with, she was managing to hold herself together better than he’d expected. With her medical training, it made sense. She was used to making decisions in the middle of a crisis situation, but having a man who was wanted by the FBI after you brought things to a whole other level. Those feelings of fear and vulnerability were amplified with her memories suppressed. Being attracted to someone who couldn’t remember who they were seemed ridiculous.

He needed a distraction and he had a feeling so did she.

“How about a movie?” he said. “It might keep your mind off of all of this for a while.”

And keep his mind off the woman sitting next to him.

She took another bite. “For some reason, I don’t think I’m a huge movie fan, but I think I’d like that tonight.”

“Good. My parents have a huge selection of DVDs. What’s your favorite?” He sat back, wanting to take back the question. “I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. Why don’t you choose?”

He set his dessert on the coffee table, grabbed one of the movies he knew his mother loved and slipped it into the DVD player. Why did he keep forgetting he wasn’t there to get to know her? This was a job, nothing more. Besides, how was he supposed to get to know her when she couldn’t remember her past? Even if it did eventually come back, his job was just until the FBI detail got here.

Halfway through the movie, they added a big bowl of buttered popcorn. When the final credits rolled, he realized she was leaning against his shoulder.

“Are you still awake?” he asked.

She nodded then yawned “I saw the ending, but think I missed part of it.”

“I learned you have a cute snore.”

“Very funny.” She laughed. “I learned I like romantic comedies. Especially Christmas ones.”

“I figured something intense wasn’t going to be a good choice considering that the point was for you to forget everything that’s going on, so I guess we accomplished that.”

“Agreed.” She scooted a few inches away and turned to him. “But to be honest, forgetting things hasn’t exactly been an issue since the accident.”

Griffin frowned, wanting to kick himself for his insensitivity. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” She shot him a smile. “I’m teasing.”

He let out a low chuckle. “You might have lost your memory, but like I said earlier, definitely not your sense of humor.”

“What I really should be saying is thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me get my mind off all of this, even if it was just for a couple hours—and even if I fell asleep. I have a feeling that the next few days if not weeks are going to be tough. But in the meantime, I can’t imagine a homier safe house.”

He turned off the TV and the Christmas lights, grabbed the half-empty bowl of popcorn and headed toward the kitchen. “I can’t guarantee that the FBI is going to treat you to a movie and popcorn every night, but while you’re here we can afford to indulge some.”

He stopped midsentence, realizing what he was thinking. For some crazy reason he wished she were staying here—not just until the storm was over, but until he knew she was completely safe. And he wanted to be the one to ensure she stayed safe. But that wasn’t going to happen. She’d only be here until the storm passed and the FBI could get her out, then he’d get back to his normal life.

And reality.

He turned off the kitchen light and started upstairs with her.

“The house is beautiful.” She ran her hand across the wooden banister as they walked up the stairs. “When was it built?”

“My grandfather built the original structure back in the early 1900s, but my father continued to add on. He put in the second story back in the seventies, added a back porch and most recently put in a gun room for safety.”

She glanced at the vaulted door at the end of the hallway. “So he’s a serious hunter?”

“Hunter...collector. He had the vault put in a few months ago. His first grandchild—and any future grandchildren—was his main motivator, though he’s been talking about doing it for years. If you’re interested in hunting, he’s the man people come to. I might be biased, but he and my grandfather are experts on not just hunting but survival and really anything outdoors. He loves this land and knows how to adapt to whatever comes.”

She stood quiet for a minute in front of the guest room.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired. I love hearing you talk of family, but it makes me wonder about mine.”

“The memories will come.”

She nodded. “I hope so.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“I don’t think so. I have my bag from the agents’ car and your mother helped me get settled.”