Private Eye Protector

Chance should probably go.

Probably.

But he didn’t.

Being a chaplain had hardwired him to be concerned for the sick and the struggling. Rayne was both.

He scowled, pacing back to the window as the doctor continued his examination of Rayne. Outside, sheets of ice fell from the charcoal sky, pinging off the ground and cars, shimmering on trees and bushes. A shadow shifted at the edge of the lot, merged with another shadow. Two figures standing in the icy downpour at midnight with the windchill dipping to twenty below?

Not something any sane person would do, but that didn’t mean anything sinister was going on.

Someone was in my room.

Rayne’s words drifted through his mind, and he couldn’t ignore them or the quicksilver shot of adrenaline that flooded his veins.

Maybe nothing was going on.

Probably nothing was.

But it wouldn’t hurt to check things out.

Dear Reader,

Rayne Sampson has three simple rules for heart-healthy living, and she has absolutely no intention of breaking them. A single mother, raising her best friend’s child, she knows how easy it is to fall in love with the wrong person, and she never intends to do it again. When a car accident steals her memories, and her life spins out of control, private detective Chance Richardson steps in to help. He’s strong, caring and dependable, his faith shining out and drawing Rayne in.

But she has her rules, and she can’t break them.

Or can she?

I hope you enjoy Rayne and Chance’s story. Like many of us, they are flawed and fickle, their hearts bruised from poor decisions and heartache. In the end, it is their faith in God and their love for each other that leads them through.

You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.

—Psalms 32:7

Private Eye Protector

Shirlee McCoy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my parents Edward and Shirley Porter who taught me what a lifetime of love looks like.

And to my husband Rodney, who shows me every day.

ONE

Someone stood in the open door of the room, his silence more compelling than the steady beep of machinery, more alarming than the agonizing pain that had tugged Rayne Sampson from the velvety darkness she’d floated in for …

How long?

She didn’t know.

Had no sense of time passing.

She shifted, the mechanized beep jumping with her pulse.

Pain.

In her head.

Her joints.

Someone watching. Time stalling. Nothing moving. Not Rayne. Not the figure standing near the door.

Get up.

Find Emma.

The command shot through her pain-racked head, and she swung her legs over the bed, trying desperately to figure out where she was, how she’d gotten there.

Where her daughter was.

Emma!

She had to find her, couldn’t fail her.

You don’t have what it takes to be a mother, Rayne. You’re too young. You need to grow up a little, be a wife first. Be my wife. Just like we planned.

Michael’s words drifted through her mind, filling her head so that it pounded even harder, throbbed more insistently.

When had he said those things?

A week ago?

A month ago?

She had no sense of time passing, and her heart thundered with the knowledge.

“Where’s my daughter?” she asked the man who watched, but the doorway was empty, the hall beyond brightly lit. The sound of footsteps and voices drifted into the room. People chatting and laughing, the sounds echoing through Rayne’s pounding skull.

Get up!

She pushed to her feet, nearly tripping over an IV pole.

A hospital.

She was in a hospital.

But she had no idea how she’d gotten there. No memory of an accident or an injury.

“Where’s Emma?” she spoke out loud, trying desperately to cling to the thought as darkness edged in and the floor slid away.

Cold sweat beaded her brow, her limbs trembling as she tried to hold on to consciousness.

You don’t have what it takes to be a mother.

“You’re wrong,” she muttered—not sure if she was in the moment or in the past—her voice raspy, her thoughts fuzzy.

Find her.

She took a step and fell into darkness.

Emma!

The name speared through the darkness, and she jerked back to the room, the endless mechanized beeping.

The pain.

Overwhelming, mind-searing pain. Cold tiles seeped through cotton and chilled her to the bone. On the floor, but she didn’t know how she’d gotten there.

Footsteps sounded on tile. Close. Coming closer.

The man returning?

She struggled to her hands and knees.

Get up.

Find Emma.

Hurry.

But, her movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, her efforts futile.

“Rayne? What are you doing?” A voice drifted into the darkness, light splashing across the floor, splashing into her eyes and blinding her, making her turn her head to the side, away from the glare.

She blinked, focused.

Boot-clad feet just inches away.

Hands wrapped around her waist, eased her to her feet.

Warm breath against her cheek, and she was being lifted off the ground, the machine beeping, her ear pressed against something warm and solid.

She let her eyes slide shut, relaxing against the touch that felt so safe.

Someone brushed strands of hair from her cheek.

Her brother or father?

Michael?

Couldn’t be Michael. She’d given back the ring, broken things off.

“Dad? Jonas?” She wanted to open her eyes, tried to open them, but they felt so heavy.

“Chance.”

She forced her eyes open, looked into a stranger’s face.

Dark hair, high cheekbones, pale eyes.

She knew those eyes.

Didn’t she?

“Who are you?”

“Chance Richardson.” He frowned, pressed a button on the bed rail. “We work for the same company. You rent an apartment from my mother. Don’t you remember?”

Did she remember?

She tried to pull the information from her mind, found nothing but emptiness and a cold, hard kernel of fear. “I live in Arizona. I work for a women’s shelter in Phoenix.”

“Do you know what day it is, Rayne?” He looked into her eyes, searching for something, but she had nothing to give. His eyes shimmered blue or green or gray, and she was sure she’d looked in them before.

When?

Where?

“I … No.”

“Do you know what city you’re in?”

A memory surfaced. Packing the U-Haul, strapping Emma into her car seat, leaving everything she knew to take a new job in a new place. “I remember packing to leave. That’s it.”

“Do you know where you are?” He pressed the button on the bed rail again, and she knew he was summoning a nurse. A nurse couldn’t help, though. All that could help was remembering, and that seemed to be impossible.

“The hospital.”

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“No.”

“You were in an accident,” he said, as if he hoped it would spark a memory.

All it sparked was terror.

Emma!

“Where’s my daughter?” Rayne tried to sit up, but Chance pressed her back.

“She’s fine. She wasn’t in the car with you.”

“Thank God.” She closed her eyes, the prayer swirling through her mind again and again and again.

“He was definitely looking out for both of you. Do you remember what happened?”

No, and that terrified her.

She tried to respond, but her thoughts were clumsy, her eyelids leaden.

“Do you remember the accident, Rayne?” he persisted, pulling her from the edge of sleep.

She scowled, wondering if she knew him well enough to tell him to go away and leave her alone. Not to ask any more questions, because every question she couldn’t answer only added to her fear.

“Do you know how it happened? Where it happened?”

“In my car?” There. Finally something she could answer.

“Funny, Goldilocks, but that’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny, and my hair isn’t gold, it’s platinum.”

“Looks gold to me. Do you know what town you’re in?”

That she could answer, too.

She’d left Phoenix to work in Spokane, Washington. If Chance was her coworker, she must be there.

“Spokane, but I’m tired of playing twenty questions, so let’s stop for a while, okay?” She opened her eyes, looked into his gray-blue gaze.

Eyes she knew but didn’t know.

The world spun, and she spun with it, falling back into darkness so quickly she thought she might never escape it.

She reached out, grabbed something warm and solid.

His hand.

Calloused and rough and oddly familiar.

She knew his eyes, and she knew him, but she had no memory of meeting him, no knowledge of their shared history. How far back did that history go? How much time had passed since her last memory?

Was Emma still a baby?

Had she grown into a toddler?

Something more?

Terrified, she sat up, stars shooting in front of her eyes.

“I need to see my daughter.” The frantic edge to her voice matched her racing pulse and the frenzied beep of the machine.

“Calm down, Rayne. Emma is fine. My mom was babysitting her while you worked, and she’s still taking care of her.” Chance pressed a palm to her cheek, forced her to look into his eyes.

Calm.

Confident.

Not panicked at all.

Then again, he wasn’t the one with amnesia.

“Is everything okay in here?” A nurse walked into the room, her dark eyes widening as she saw Rayne. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Aside from having a splitting headache and amnesia? Okay.”

“Amnesia? The nurse looked at chance, and he nodded.

“She seems to be missing her recent memories. No idea what day it is, no memory of the accident. She doesn’t seem to remember me or the area.”

“She’s sitting right here, and she can speak for herself,” Rayne grumbled, but throbbing pain stole the heat from her words, and she really didn’t have the strength to add to what he’d said.

Besides, what would she add?

He’d said it all.

All her recent memories were gone. Trying to find them was like searching through a sea of nothingness.

“I’ll page the attending physician. He’ll want to ask you a few questions, Rayne. In the meantime, on a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain level?”

“Seven.” But, compared to her fear and confusion, that was negligible.

She wanted to remember everything. Wanted it with a desperation that made her physically ill.

“When the doctor comes in, we’ll see if you can take something for that.”

“I don’t need anything for the pain. All I want is to go home and see my daughter.” Only she didn’t know where home was. Didn’t know where her daughter was.

Being a parent is a big responsibility. Let someone else take it on. Someone who really wants a baby.

Michael spoke from the past, and Rayne realized she’d closed her eyes, was drifting on waves of distant memories.

Or maybe not so distant.

“What day is it? What’s the date?” she asked.

“Friday, November 28th, 2011.” Chance answered, smoothing a lock of hair from her forehead.

She’d left Phoenix at the beginning of October. That meant she’d lost nearly two months of her life. Two months of Emma’s life.

Better than the alternative.

Better than years or decades.

“I need to see Emma.” She sat up, ignoring the nurse’s protest, ignoring Chance’s hand pressed to her shoulder.

Michael had been wrong.

Everything he’d said, everything he’d believed about her ability to parent Chandra’s baby had been wrong.

Rayne had spent the past eight months proving that.

She wouldn’t fail now. Wouldn’t leave her baby with a complete stranger.

“Do you really think you’re going to do her any good in the condition you’re in?”

“I’ll do her a lot more good if I’m with her than if I’m away from her.”

“My mother has been her babysitter since you moved into the apartment. She and Emma will do just fine together. All you need to worry about is getting better,” Chance said, and Rayne reached for a name, a face, something to go with his words.

Nothing.

Blank.

“I don’t know your mother. I don’t know you.” Her breath came in short gasps, and she felt helpless to control it. Panic edged out everything. The nurse. Chance. The pain that slammed through Rayne’s skull.

“You’re not going to fall apart, Rayne. You have a kid to get home to and a life to live. This is just a blip on the radar, so take a deep breath and pull yourself together,” Chance growled, his eyes blazing into hers, forcing her back from the brink.

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to thank him or punch him, but his harsh words had worked. She could breathe. She could think.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with holes in your memories.”

“That’s better, Goldilocks.” He patted her hand, moved aside as the nurse leaned in to take Rayne’s vitals.

“Partial amnesia is very common with head injuries. Give yourself a little time. Things will come back to you.” The nurse jotted something on Rayne’s chart, offering an easy smile.

“When?”

“Unfortunately, it isn’t an exact science. Sometimes, memories come back quickly. Sometimes, it takes months. Even years.”

“I want them back now. I can’t stomach the thought of my daughter with someone I don’t know,” she said, the words blurting out before she thought about how they’d sound.

“Of course you feel that way. What mother wouldn’t? But I can assure you that Lila Richardson is one of the most wonderful women around. She’ll take good care of your daughter.”

“You know her?”

“She taught my Sunday school class when I was a kid, and now, she teaches my son. She’s great, and I’m not just saying that because Chance is in the room.”

“That make me feel better.” But not much. Emma was her responsibility. She’d made a promise to Chandra, and she didn’t take that lightly.

Sure, I’ll raise her if something happens to you.

But she hadn’t expected anything to happen to her best friend. Hadn’t thought very hard about what it would mean to take on the responsibility of raising another human being.

“Good. Now, you just rest for a while, okay? The doctor should be in shortly. Hopefully, by midnight, you’ll have some pain medicine and be fast asleep. Everything will look better in the morning.” The nurse pulled the blanket up to Rayne’s chin, tucked it around her shoulders.

Everything is going to be okay.” Chance said, his words soothing and smooth, commanding her attention.

“Okay? I’m missing nearly two months of my life.”

But maybe the nurse was right.

Maybe things would look better in the morning.

Still, something nagged at the back of her mind, something that shivered along her spine, lodged at the base of her skull, pounded into her consciousness.

Someone standing in the open doorway, watching.

Chance?

A doctor?

Did it matter?

People came and went in hospitals. There was nothing alarming about that, but she couldn’t shake her fear, couldn’t put the image out of her mind.

A man.

Watching.

“Were you in my room earlier, Chance?” she asked, because she had to know. Couldn’t rest until she was sure.

“I’ve been waiting down in the emergency room while they got you settled. My mom was here with Emma, but Emma got fussy and they had to leave. I walked them out to the parking lot and came up. Why?”

“Someone was here, standing in the doorway, watching me.”

“The cleaning crew just made its rounds. You probably saw one of the team,” the nurse interjected.

A custodian?

Rayne didn’t think so.

But her head had been fuzzy, her thinking muddled, her vision blurred.

The nurse glanced at her watch. “I need to go do rounds. The doctor will be here soon. If you need anything before then, just buzz.”

She hurried out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Chance asked, and she shrugged, her shoulders aching, muscles she hadn’t even realized she had throbbing in protest.

A car accident.

Amnesia.

Of course she was seeing danger in the shadows … and the doorways.

“I will be.”

“Then why do you look so scared?” He studied her face, searched her eyes, saw more than she wanted anyone to.

Mothers were tough, right?

Strong.

Immovable.

They didn’t rely on other people, because they didn’t need anyone to take care of them. They took care of themselves.

So no more relying on other people for Rayne.

That was rule number one for heart-healthy living, and Rayne planned to remember it. No matter what else she forgot.

“I’m not scared. I just don’t think the guy I saw was a custodian.”

“Then who do you think he was?”

“I don’t know.”

“He could have been a nurse or a doctor.”

“Maybe.”

“Look, if you’re nervous about staying here alone tonight …”

“I’m not.” At least, not very.

“I can stay with you.”

“Really. I’ll be fine.”

But something nagged below the surface of her mind.

Bright lights. Terror.

There and gone so quickly she couldn’t hold on to them.

“I planned to hang out for a while anyway, so I’ll wait until the doctor comes in. Then I’ll talk to the maintenance staff. See if any of them were in your room. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re placating me.”

“I don’t have the time or patience to placate anyone, Rayne.” Chance stretched his long, muscular frame, his gray-blue gaze never leaving her face.

Handsome.

Really handsome.

How could she not remember a face like his?

“You said we work for the same company.”

“That’s right. I’m a private detective with Information Unlimited. You’ve worked with several of my clients.”

A new job.

A new life.

A fresh start.

Working as a victim’s advocate for the P.I. firm that employed her sister-in-law had seemed like a perfect opportunity to put her mistakes behind her.

That she remembered.

She also remembered her mistakes.

Mistake.

One mistake.

But a big one. Thankfully, she’d called her engagement off before it could turn in to a catastrophe.

Something buzzed, the sound jerking her out of the half sleep she’d fallen into. She sat up straight, her heart pounding. Dizzy, disoriented.

“It’s just my phone,” Chance said quietly.

Still there.

Still handsome.

Still a stranger.

She watched as he answered his phone, studying his face, trying to remember the day they’d met, the place.

“Yes. She’s awake. Seems fairly lucid, but she has partial amnesia.” His words penetrated the thick fog in her brain, and she frowned.

“I’m completely lucid.”

“Did you hear that?” he asked, then nodded. “I think so. Let me check. Are you up to talking to your brother?”

“Jonas?”

Of course Jonas.

She only had one brother.

Maybe she wasn’t as lucid as she’d thought.

“Yes.”

“Sure.” She took the phone, pressed it to her ear, her hand shaking. “Jonas?”

“Hey, sis. Rough night, huh?” His familiar voice brought unwanted tears to her eyes, and she sniffed them away.

“I’ve had better.”

“You okay?”

“Aside from a headache, I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ve been worried, but there aren’t any flights leaving until tomorrow afternoon. We should be there sometime tomorrow night.”

“We?”

“Skylar and me. Mom and Dad.”

“You can’t drop everything you’re doing to fly out here.”

“Sure we can.”

“Maybe I should rephrase that. I’m doing great. By tomorrow, I’ll be home and back to my routine. I’d rather you all come up for Emma’s first birthday. Just as we planned.”

“There’s no reason why we can’t come now and in April.”

“It’s too expensive, and I’ll spend the whole time you’re here feeling guilty.”

“Rayne—”

“I promise—if I need you guys here, I’ll let you know. But for right now, I’m fine.”

“Chance said you have partial amnesia. I don’t consider that fine.”

“There are just a few holes in my memory. The nurse said that’s common with head injuries. I’ll probably remember everything before I leave the hospital.”

Chance snorted at her optimism, but Rayne ignored him.

She loved her family, but they worried too much, jumped in to rescue her before she ever had an opportunity to rescue herself. When she’d taken custody of Emma, Rayne’s mother had offered free babysitting and had insisted on cooking meals, doing the laundry and cleaning. After Rayne broke up with Michael, Jonas and Skylar had traveled from New Mexico to Arizona and stayed with her for a week. The day she’d been held at gunpoint …

She frowned.

No need to go back there.

She’d made her decision before that, knew that she had to break away, prove herself as a mother on her own. No parents and siblings stepping in to rescue her, no fiancé telling her she wasn’t capable. Just Rayne and Emma making a wonderful life in a beautiful new town.

Anything else would mean weakness, anything else could lead to heartache.

And she didn’t want either of those things in her life.

“All right. It’s your choice, but I’m not going to say I’m happy about it. You’ll call if you need anything, right?” Jonas asked, and she forced herself to focus on the question, on the conversation.

“You know I will.”

“I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know you’re okay, but as soon as you get a chance, give them a ring. Mom has been beside herself since she got the call saying you were in the hospital.”

“I’m really sorry I worried all of you.”

“That’s what families are for.”

“Worry?”

“Something like that. Keep safe, sis. Love you.” Jonas disconnected and Rayne handed the phone back to Chance.

“So you really think you’re going back to your normal routine tomorrow?” he asked as he shoved the phone in his pocket.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Let’s start with the fact that you’re lying in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, with a lump the size of a grapefruit on the side of your forehead.”

“Is it really that big?” She fingered the bump on her forehead, wincing as she probed the tender flesh.

“I might be exaggerating, but my point is the same. You’re not going to be doing anything but resting tomorrow.”

“Hopefully, with my memories intact.” Her words were slurred, her mind fuzzy and, for a moment, she wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Why they were discussing it.

Didn’t even know if she cared.

“You’re drifting off again, Goldilocks.”

“Just resting my eyes,” she mumbled.

“Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Fabric rustled, and she knew he was going to leave. Felt sure that if he did, something bad would happen. Nothing about this place was familiar, except for him. His eyes. The warmth of his hand. And she didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again without either one.

“Don’t go.” She grabbed his hand, looked into his face. Familiar and strange all at the same time.

“Okay.” He settled back into the chair. No question about why she wanted him there. No hesitation. No list of things he needed to do.

Just his presence, given without reservation.

Not something she was used to.

Not something Michael would have done.

Michael.

Funny that a stranger was willing to give more of himself than her fiancé ever had.

Or maybe not so funny.

Michael had promised her everything, but he’d given her nothing of consequence. Dinner dates were nice, phone calls on Tuesday afternoons were fine, but when push came to shove, he’d proven he couldn’t be counted on.

If you insist on playing mother to a drug addict’s baby, then we’re through. Are you willing to let that happen, Rayne? Willing to give up what we’ve spent almost three years building?

She’d been willing.

She wasn’t sure she’d been ready to be a mother, though.

Still, she didn’t regret the promise she’d made the day Chandra had given birth to the red-faced, red-haired infant.

Even then, Rayne had loved Emma. She just hadn’t realized she would be her mother.

She was, though, and she’d do whatever it took to raise her, protect her and give her the life Chandra would have wanted for her.

It was the last thought she had before darkness carried her away.