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Mission Statement

Created more than twenty years ago by James Colby, the Colby Agency is now owned and operated by his wife, Victoria. Though relatively small, the agency has garnered a reputation second to none in the business of private investigations and personal security. Victoria Colby is highly respected by law enforcement and is well connected in government agencies where discretion is the operative word.

The Colby Agency employs the very finest in all aspects of investigation and protection. Each of the men and women who represents the agency must possess the qualities that James Colby himself personified: honor, loyalty and courage.

The Colby Agency is the place where clients go when only the absolute best will do.

Physical Evidence
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it bad enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and they finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Alexandra Preston—Trained at Quantico, Alex is one of Victoria Colby’s top investigators. Someone wants her dead, but she can’t remember who or why.

Mitch Hayden—Sheriff of Raleigh County, Tennessee. His attraction to Alex Preston makes him question his deepest loyalty of all—family ties.

Victoria Colby—The head of the Colby Agency.

Zach Ashton—Victoria Colby’s top legal eagle.

Deputy Miller—He was found dead in the car with Alex, who can’t remember what happened. Was Miller trying to give her information or was he trying to shut her up before things went awry?

Phillip Malloy—He has a dirty little secret. Just how far will he go to protect it?

Nadine Malloy—Phillip’s faithful wife. She doesn’t need this case rocking her already-shaky emotional state. She will do whatever it takes to protect her family.

Roy Becker—A deputy who is also Mitch’s cousin. As Phillip’s stepson, Roy doesn’t want his family hurt. But does he know something he’s not telling?

Marija and Jasna Bukovak—Foreign exchange students from Croatia. Jasna has been attending the university in Chicago. As a high school senior, Marija has lived with the Malloys for the past school year. Shortly after graduation she disappeared.

Agent Talkington—The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation agent assigned to investigate a series of murders.

Waylon Gill—A serial killer thought to be responsible for the disappearance of Marija Bukovak.

This book is dedicated to a very special lady who has had a tremendous influence on my writing career. She recognized a diamond in the rough and set to the task of cutting and polishing. It took hard work and perseverance, but she never once gave up. Since we met in 1996, she has made me laugh at myself, cry because I was certain I could never do this writing thing and swell with pride when I knew the work was indeed good. This one is for you, Dianne Hamilton. For all your selfless giving, for your every word of encouragement and simply for being you.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

Victoria Colby watched the early morning commuters on the busy street beyond the parking lot four stories below. Deep inside, where she harbored her most secret thoughts and feelings, she knew something was very wrong. This September morning would bring bad news. She could feel it in her bones.

Drawing in a deep breath, she considered that she had worked hard since her husband’s death to make the Colby Agency the best in the business. She employed only the very finest in the fields of research and investigation. She knew better than most that no amount of planning or strategy could ward off the unexpected twists and turns life took.

A soft knock on her office door pulled Victoria’s attention back to the present. She stiffened her spine and turned to greet the attorney she had summoned so early this morning.

Zach Ashton entered the office, his expression nothing short of grim. “Is Hayden here yet?”

“Not yet.” Victoria gestured to one of the wing back chairs flanking her desk as she settled into her own. She braced herself for Zach’s report. “Have you been able to reach Alex?”

He shook his head slowly from side to side. “I’ve called at least a dozen times in the past two hours with no luck.” He looked away briefly, and Victoria knew that he was having difficulty considering the possibilities of why Alex had not called in. “I couldn’t reach the Bukovak girl either.”

An uncharacteristic feeling of helplessness welled in Victoria’s chest. The sensation was not completely foreign to her; she had known it well during the long months immediately following her husband’s death. And she’d known it another time that she refused to consider even after all these years. Doggedly pushing it aside, she leveled a determined gaze on her trusted attorney. “We’ll have some answers when Sheriff Hayden arrives.”

Zach stared at the floor for a long moment. Victoria knew that he was assessing the situation and reaching the same conclusions she had. And the bottom line was not good, but neither of them was willing to admit that fact just yet.

Alexandra Preston had worked at the Colby Agency almost as long as Zach. She was very good at her job. Trained at Quantico as a special agent for the FBI, Alex was nobody’s fool. She was attractive, smart and tough. But now she was missing in action. They’d had no contact with her in forty-eight hours. No one stayed out of touch that long unless they were stranded without communications, severely injured…or worse.

Victoria wished she could have saved Zach from this gut-wrenching wait, but he knew Alex better than anyone else in the agency. Victoria needed his input. Usually she avoided teaming two people who had been involved on a personal level, but whatever had been between Zach and Alex was over long ago. Both appeared to have moved on, but they remained close friends. And right now Alex needed Zach on her team, just as Victoria needed his expertise in the upcoming meeting.

Zach lifted a worried gaze to meet Victoria’s. “We could be looking at a very bad situation here. Maybe there’s someone else you’d rather have making assessments. I’m not sure I can be objective. If this is bad news…” His words drifted off to be replaced by a too-solemn silence.

Victoria considered her own words for a long moment before she spoke. “We can only hope for the best, but I doubt that the sheriff from Raleigh County, Tennessee, would drop everything and fly up without strong motivation. As to your involvement, I believe you’re the best man for the job.”

The intercom interrupted whatever Zach intended to say next. “Sheriff Hayden is here,” Mildred announced.

“Show him in, please.” Victoria stood, as did Zach, to welcome the man who had gotten her up at the crack of dawn to demand a meeting.

Sheriff Mitchell Hayden strode across Victoria’s office without hesitating until he stood directly in front of her desk. The first thing that garnered her attention was his too-long hair, which was secured at the back of his neck. The next thing she noted was intense, cool blue eyes.

He extended his hand. “I’m Mitch Hayden, Mrs. Colby. Thank you for seeing me.”

His deep, whiskey-smooth voice carried a hint of an unmistakable southern drawl. He was tall, six-one or two, she surmised. And solidly built. Victoria resisted the urge to frown when she considered his faded jeans and khaki shirt. The work boots didn’t quite fit the bill either. She couldn’t recall meeting a lawman who looked quite like this one.

“Sheriff Hayden,” Victoria acknowledged as she gave his hand a brisk shake. “This is Zach Ashton, the agency’s attorney.”

Already standing, Zach clasped their visitor’s hand next. “I hope your flight was pleasant, Sheriff.”

“It was fine,” he said curtly, then turned his attention back to Victoria. “I have several questions that need answers.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Sheriff.” She indicated the chair adjacent to Zach’s as she resumed her own. “Why don’t you tell me what brings you to Chicago this morning.”

The sheriff’s posture didn’t relax as he sank into the seat she’d offered. He was intent, poised for whatever came his way. “Why does your agency have an investigator nosing around in my county?” he asked bluntly.

“If you mean Alex Preston, you’re right, she is one of my investigators,” Victoria acknowledged. “However, you must be aware that the information regarding the case she is working is private, Sheriff. Was there anything else you wanted to know?”

Only the slightest tightening of his jaw gave away Mitch Hayden’s irritation. Victoria was impressed. The man had traveled a considerable distance to get stone-walled in the first two minutes.

“Don’t jerk me around, Mrs. Colby,” he warned. “I’ve been up all night and I’ve come a long way. I need some answers.”

“Are you here because Alex is in some sort of trouble?” Zach asked pointedly, his courtroom demeanor going a long way to hide his anxiety.

An unbearable silence hung for two long beats.

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” the sheriff replied quietly. Too quietly.

“If something has happened to Alex,” Victoria countered firmly, “I demand that you tell us now.”

He leveled an unreadable gaze fully onto Victoria’s. “One of my deputies is dead, and Alex Preston is in the hospital under protective custody. She’s also my prime suspect.”

Mitch knew he’d gotten their full attention with that announcement. The attorney looked downright sick to his stomach, but the woman, Victoria Colby, seemed almost relieved, as if she’d feared worse. Maybe now Mitch would get some straight answers.

“What happened?” the attorney, Ashton, wanted to know.

“Is Alex all right?” Mrs. Colby demanded.

“She’s fine other than having trouble remembering what happened,” Mitch explained with as little detail as possible. “The two were found in Deputy Miller’s car early yesterday morning by a group of kids who’d camped nearby. Miller was dead. It looks as if they shot each other. There was cocaine in the vehicle.” Mitch paused, allowing them to absorb the ramifications of his words. “If you want to help clear her of a murder charge, I’d suggest that you start talking.”

“I can assure you, Sheriff Hayden,” Mrs. Colby said, more calmly than he would have expected, “that our investigation has nothing to do with drugs, nor is Alex a drug user.”

“You’re skirting the issue,” Mitch snapped. His impatience was showing he knew, but at this point he didn’t really give a damn.

“And you aren’t?” she returned.

This was pointless. “I can get a warrant.”

Mrs. Colby smiled. “Just so you know, Zach is one of the finest attorneys in the country. You may be in for a long wait.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Absolutely not,” Zach said emphatically, offering the sheriff his best, practiced smile. “Just fair warning.”

Mitch suppressed the curse that raced to the tip of his tongue. “Look, I want to get to the bottom of this just as much as you do. And, like you, I know my men. Deputy Miller would never have shot anyone unless it was in self-defense and he sure as hell wasn’t involved in drugs.”

“Sheriff Hayden, I can assure you that we will do whatever it takes to help you determine what happened,” Mrs. Colby offered.

Mitch knew she meant it. He had the distinct impression that Victoria Colby was a woman of her word. But the last thing he needed was further involvement from a civilian agency. All he wanted at the moment was answers.

“So.” Mitch relaxed for the first time in more than twenty-four hours. “Does that mean you’re ready to cooperate?”

“Only if you’re ready to cooperate with us,” she offered frankly.

Mitch inclined his head and considered the no-nonsense lady seated behind the big oak desk. “What will it take to get the information I need now? Today.”

“If your office cooperates completely with mine, then I’ll return the favor,” she explained. “Considering the geography, I would request that one of my people accompany you back to Tennessee. I want a full report on Alex’s well-being. I would also require that my representative be allowed to participate in every aspect of the investigation to clear her name.”

“Is that all?” Mitch asked sarcastically.

She dipped her head in a gesture of acknowledgment. “I believe that will be sufficient.”

Mitch let go a heavy breath. It crossed his mind to simply say no, but he had the feeling that Victoria Colby would not give in quite so easily. She would hold back the information he desperately needed until some judge made her give it up. He didn’t want to waste time. Miller was dead. He’d been a friend as well as one of Mitch’s best deputies. Mitch had every intention of solving this case as quickly as possible. Nothing, not Victoria Colby or her fancy agency, was going to stop him.

“All right, Mrs. Colby. Tell your man to be ready in three hours. That’s when my flight leaves. Now—” Mitch leaned forward in anticipation “—will you give me the details regarding Alex Preston’s case?”

“Certainly,” Mrs. Colby said in an accommodating tone. “Zach will fill you in on the way. There’s no need for you to wait three hours. I’ll have my pilot take the two of you back to Nashville in the agency jet.”

Agency jet? Mitch tamped down his surprise, but couldn’t suppress his renewed irritation. She was hedging again. “The case, Mrs. Colby,” he insisted. “Tell me about the case.”

She stood, effectively dismissing him. “Zach will answer your questions en route. I want him with Alex ASAP. She’s entitled to legal representation.”

Frowning, Mitch pushed hesitantly to his feet. Just what he needed, some hotshot, smart-mouth attorney dogging his every step. Especially one who looked ready to rip off Mitch’s head and spit down his throat. “I’m not sure—”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the secretary announced from the door. “But there’s an urgent call for Sheriff Hayden.”

Mrs. Colby pushed the telephone on her desk in his direction. “You can take it here, Sheriff.”

Tired and annoyed, and definitely not up for any more problems, Mitch snatched up the receiver and depressed the blinking button. “Hayden.” It was Russ Dixon, one of his deputies. “Slow down, Dixon, and tell me what the problem is.” The deputy’s next words stunned Mitch. A mixture of fury and anxiety clenched his gut. “I’m on my way,” he said tightly and hung up.

“Is there a problem, Sheriff?” Mrs. Colby studied him closely, as if reading the new worry even before he spoke.

“That was one of my men,” Mitch said, his voice oddly devoid of inflection. “Alex Preston is missing, and the deputy who was watching her is dead.”

Chapter One

“The first shot entered here.” Deputy Dixon pointed to one of the bullet holes in the hospital window.

Mitch Hayden stared at the entry hole and the spiderweb of cracked glass around it. “It must have come from the hotel across the street,” he suggested, thinking out loud. The rooms in the four-story hotel had balconies with glass slider doors. Heavy curtains draped each set of sliders, offering excellent cover and the perfect angle for a shooter.

“That’s what I figured,” Dixon agreed. “The first round is the one that most likely hit the pillow right where Miss Preston would have laid her head. She apparently scrambled for cover, knocking over the telephone.”

A muttered curse from near the bed dragged Mitch’s attention in that direction. Zach Ashton, the Colby Agency’s hotshot attorney, stood, staring down at the thin, disposable pillow that sported the nice round bullet hole.

Ashton lifted his gaze, meeting Mitch’s. “She must have rolled over or gotten up at just the right moment,” he surmised grimly, an underlying emotion in his tone that went beyond that of mere professional concern for a co-worker.

Without comment, Mitch turned back to Dixon so that he could continue with his scenario.

“The sound most likely alerted Saylor and he rushed into the room. Or maybe she screamed.” Dixon indicated the second hole in the glass. “This round hit him dead center of his chest.”

Dead being the operative word. Clenching his jaw to stave off the emotions tugging at him, Mitch glanced to the place where his deputy had fallen. Midway between the door and the bed, Saylor had lost his life.

Apparently thinking along the same vein, Ashton studied the handprint of dried blood on the floor next to where Saylor had been found.

“We figure Ms. Preston rolled off the bed on that side.” Dixon gestured to the far side where Ashton stood. “Maybe to take cover or maybe to help Saylor. The bloody hand print on the floor isn’t Saylor’s or any of the hospital staff’s. We think maybe she tried to stop the bleeding or give him CPR or something.”

The deputy’s words evolved into a fully formed scene in Mitch’s head. The image of Alex Preston kneeling over Saylor attempting to stop the heavy flow of blood from his chest twisted the knot in Mitch’s gut a few more turns.

“Good work, Dixon.” Mitch started to turn away from the window, but hesitated. “Did you have a look over in the hotel already?”

“Sure did.” Dixon pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket. “Roy and Willis combed the entire building and even the trees accessible on this side of the hospital.” Dixon shook his head. “They didn’t find anything. We’ve interviewed dozens of people and no one seems to have seen or heard anything suspicious.” He sighed. “It’s like our shooter just plain vanished into thin air.”

Mitch scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to stay fixed on the conversation when his mind wanted to focus on the search for Alex, but he had to take care of this first. “Well, we know he didn’t just disappear. We’ll have to look harder that’s all. Somebody had to have seen or heard something.” He glanced at his watch. The shooting had taken place approximately four hours ago. “I want every volunteer we can get out there beating the bushes. I want her found before dark.”

“We’ve got most of our men, a big hunk of the city’s force, and a dozen or so volunteers out searching already,” Dixon assured him. “If she’s still here, we’ll find her.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Mitch made a quick mental checklist of all he had to do. “Ashton and I’ll join the search after I stop at the office. You make sure this crime scene stays clean. TBI’s techs may need to go over the place again.” Lucky for Mitch the Tennessee Bureau of Investigations was close by and had responded in record time.

“Will do.” Dixon stroked his forehead as if a headache had begun there. “One more thing, Sheriff. Chief Lowden said he wouldn’t push jurisdiction since Saylor was one of ours. But he wants to be certain that we keep him informed.”

Mitch nodded. “I’ll give him a call. Thanks, Dixon.”

Saylor was new on the force. His wife still lived in Knoxville, waiting for their house to sell. There was a call Mitch wasn’t looking forward to making. But it had to be done. He might as well go straight to the office and do it now. Chief Lowden had already broken the news to Mrs. Saylor in person. Mitch would have preferred to have done so himself, but that hadn’t been possible. At this point he needed to intrude as little as possible.

“Let’s go, Ashton.”

His hands buried in his pockets, Ashton followed Mitch into the corridor. Mitch nodded to the deputy stationed outside the door, his thoughts going immediately back to the man trailing close behind him. Mitch imagined that fancy designer suit Ashton was wearing probably cost the equivalent of a full month’s salary for a county sheriff. In spite of his expensive attire, Ashton seemed like a decent guy. He’d been amicable during the flight, filling Mitch in on what he knew of the case Alex was working, which wasn’t a whole lot.

The involvement of the Bukovak name had proven a surprise to Mitch. Alex had apparently been looking into the disappearance of Marija Bukovak, a foreign exchange student from Croatia who had lived with Phillip and Nadine Malloy during the last school year. She’d left Tennessee more than three months ago to join her older sister in Chicago. But Marija never showed, and she hadn’t been seen since the Malloys left her at the Nashville airport.

According to Ashton, the sister, Jasna, had given up trying to find Marija herself and had gone to the Colby Agency for help when the police failed to come up with any real answers. Mitch opted not to take offense at that remark. Jasna Bukovak had left a few things out when she’d told the Colby Agency her side of the story, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He wondered though why Alex hadn’t just told him the truth about what she was doing in Shady Grove. It would certainly have made life simpler for him and her. But then, the truth would only have lent credence to what he’d already decided Alex was really up to—digging for dirt.

Mitch produced a smile for the duty nurse as he passed her station, then paused at the bank of elevators and stabbed the call button. A dozen questions whirled in his head, interfering with his ability to concentrate. Who in the world would have benefited from Miller’s death? The man didn’t have any money other than his deputy’s salary. Everybody liked him. He was single and fairly popular with the women…which could possibly explain the reason he and Alex had been together.

An unfamiliar sensation joined the ballet of fragmented thoughts and feelings inside Mitch. His mouth drew into a frown. What the heck was that all about? First he had Ashton pegged as her lover, and then Mitch had moved on to scenarios with Miller. Mitch blew out a weary breath. He was too tired to think straight that’s all. Too punchy to get a grip. He had to keep telling himself that a few hours shared over dinner that one night didn’t change anything. He didn’t know Alex Preston. She’d lied to him from the beginning.

A chime announced the imminent opening of the doors on the center elevator. Allowing Ashton to board first, Mitch stepped inside and depressed the lobby button. After he made the call to Saylor’s wife, he’d need to check with the search commander and select the area that needed his and Ashton’s support the most. Everything else on today’s agenda could wait.

“Sheriff!”

Mitch held the door for Dixon who was double-timing down the corridor to join them. “One more thing,” he said, a bit out of breath as he sidled into the waiting car. The doors closed behind him and the elevator slid into motion. “Roy’s a little miffed that Willis wouldn’t let him check the Preston woman’s room over at the hotel. Willis didn’t want to go in there without your authorization since it’s still taped off.”

Mitch grimaced at the thought of his overzealous cousin. Roy wanted to be the boss around the other men, but he knew Mitch wouldn’t back him up if he overstepped his bounds, so he whined. Which only served to lessen his already poor popularity.

“Giving that room another look-see wouldn’t hurt,” Mitch allowed. “I think it was gone through pretty thoroughly the last time, but we might as well cover every base.”

Dixon smiled. “I’ll tell Roy he can do it personally.”

Mitch resisted the urge to ask Dixon to do it himself. Roy would gloat over this triumph for weeks. That concern was quickly replaced as the memory of going through Alex’s room that first time reeled through Mitch’s mind. Touching her things. Feeling angry when one of his men commented on silky panties and hating himself for it. The stab of betrayal had pierced deep into his chest when faced with the reality of just how badly he’d been fooled by Alex Preston.

The elevator glided to a stop on the requested level and Mitch forced the haunting memories away. He glanced at Ashton, who had been particularly quiet for a lawyer. A wise man knows when to listen, Mitch decided as the three crossed the lobby. Ashton was likely building a case right now, and closely observing who he would consider his enemy. But Mitch wasn’t his enemy, he only wanted to know who’d killed two of his deputies. And why. Murders just didn’t happen in his county.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Ashton’s relationship with Alex than simply sharing the same employer. But that wasn’t supposed to matter to Mitch since it had no apparent bearing on the case. Still, it did.

As Dixon drove away in a brown-and-tan cruiser, Mitch slid behind the wheel of his Jeep Wrangler. Ashton settled into the passenger side. Renewed dread pooled in Mitch’s gut as he considered what he had to do first. He definitely was not looking forward to making that call. Saylor had been young. He and his wife had only been married for a couple of years. This whole thing was crazy. Mitch had himself two dead deputies in the space of just over twenty-four hours. To his knowledge, Raleigh County had never before lost a deputy in the line of duty.

“It’s my thinking,” Ashton said, breaking his lengthy silence, “that this incident should clear Alex of the murder charge.” He said it as offhandedly as if he’d just commented on the nice weather they were having, but Mitch heard the tension hiding beneath that polished surface.

Oh yeah, the lawyer had been doing some serious thinking. Mitch backed out of the parking space, his gaze drifting up to the second-story window of the hospital room where Saylor had taken his last breath. “Maybe, maybe not,” Mitch returned noncommittally.

“Come on, Sheriff,” Ashton argued impatiently. “Do you think Alex shot at herself? She’s running for her life. Someone tried to kill her. Maybe the same person who killed Miller. The shooter probably thinks she knows something or can identify him.”

Mitch glanced first right then left before pulling out onto Commerce Street. That was one possibility. “Or maybe it was a setup by her accomplice to make her look innocent,” he suggested, bracing for the other man’s fury.

“What accomplice?” Ashton was more than a little annoyed now. “She came down here alone.”

“So you say.”

“Look, Hayden,” Ashton snapped, dropping the title and any respect he’d so politely displayed before. “I’ve told you everything I know about the case Alex was working on, but I get the feeling that you’re not being completely up-front with me. There’s something you’re leaving out.”

Mitch braked at a red light and turned his attention fully to Ashton, who iced him down with one of those legal-eagle stares. Mitch supposed he should tell Ashton the rest. He’d know soon enough anyway…well, assuming they found Alex alive. Mitch refused to even consider the alternative.

“Her prints are on the murder weapon,” he said finally.

Ashton shrugged. “And I’ll bet Miller’s are on his pistol. We have the proverbial standoff. Who shot first?”

Mitch mulled that one over for a while before responding. There was just too much he didn’t understand, and a strong possibility existed that he might never know any more than he did right now, especially considering the circumstances. “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question,” he said in answer to Ashton’s rhetorical jab. “There’s no way to know which weapon fired first.”

“What does Alex say happened?” he demanded. “You’ve certainly avoided that question cleanly enough this morning.”

“She doesn’t know what happened,” Mitch admitted, grinding out the words as he parked in his designated slot in front of the Raleigh County Sheriff’s Department.

“What do you mean she doesn’t know what happened?” Ashton asked warily.

Mitch withdrew his keys from the ignition and faced him. “She has retrograde amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything since arriving in town.”

Fury and something else less definitive etched itself across Ashton’s features. “You said she was fine.”

“She is fine. The gunshot didn’t leave much more than a nasty flesh wound. The neurologist thinks the problem occurred when the back of her head slammed pretty hard into something, giving her a concussion. The scrapes and bruises she sustained indicate there was a struggle.” Mitch shook his head, frowning with the same frustration that had plagued him for more than twenty-four hours. “We just don’t know when or why. There was no indication that Miller had been involved in a struggle.”

“So what are you saying,” Ashton pressed, “that she can’t remember anything?”

Mitch shook his head again. He wasn’t sure he completely understood this himself. “She remembers everything prior to this case. She knows who she is, where she works—” he shrugged “—everything, except what I need her to.”

“Victoria will want to call in a specialist.”