Page 21 of Deadly Memories

“Okay.” He nodded, feeling bad at how upset she looked at the thought of Savior’s Journey being scratched from the race, especially if the reason was related to something criminal.

Maybe her father was involved. That would explain a lot, especially the fact that there was no alert about how Fiona had gone missing.

As the day progressed, so had the crowds. Everyone who’d come into the city for the race seemed to be outside. The streets were lined with parked cars, which made him think it was better to head back to the hotel.

“Are we eating here?” Fiona asked.

“No, we’ll leave the car behind and walk to the closest restaurant.” He’d noticed several of the restaurants had outdoor seating beneath colorful umbrellas, which was nice. He reached for Fiona’s hand as they set out on foot. “Anything in particular you’d like to eat?”

“Not really.” Her lack of enthusiasm made him concerned that her head injury might be getting worse. “You choose.”

He tugged her toward the closest restaurant. The thirty-minute wait time wasn’t terrible. He drew her into the shade and asked, “How’s your headache?”

“The same. Maybe a little better.” She rubbed her temple near the abrasion. “The sun is making me feel a little dizzy though.”

“You might still be dehydrated. Water will help.” He searched her gaze. “You really don’t remember winning Olympic gold?”

“I really don’t.” There was an edge to her tone. “I’m sure that sounds hard to believe, but it’s true. I don’t remember anything about my past.” She paused, then added, “Other than the brief memory I mentioned of soaring over a white fence while on horseback.”

“White fence?” He tipped his head to the side. “You didn’t mention the color of the fence before.”

She waved a hand. “Most of the horse-jumping fences are white. I’m sorry I wasn’t specific enough for you.”

“It’s not that. I didn’t realize most horse-jumping fences were white.” He smiled encouragingly. “I was hoping your memory was starting to return. That you recalled more about the jump than earlier.” He searched her gaze. “I believe you have amnesia, Fiona. I’m just trying to come up with ways to spark your memory.”

“I know.” She stared down at her hands for a moment, then looked up at him. “I believe in God. I believe Jesus died for our sins, and I believe that God will heal my head injury and restore my missing memories very soon.”

It was his turn to look away uncomfortably. Many of his teammates were believers, so this wasn’t the first time he’d heard such a conviction.

But deep down, he couldn’t buy into the idea of God allowing more than half their teammates to be shot and killed before they could get out of Afghanistan.

“Syracuse.” Fiona’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She reached out to grasp his arm, her blue eyes wide with excitement. “I just remembered my bay horse’s name was Syracuse. He’s the horse I jump with. Probably the horse I was riding when I won the gold medal.”

“That’s great!” He would rather she remember what she’d seen that put her squarely in the cross fire of danger, but any memory had to be a good indication that the rest of her missing memory would soon follow. “Anything else about that race come to mind?”

Her expression fell. “No. I just remember flying over the last fence and leaning forward as we crossed the finish line. I heard Syracuse’s name being called and knew we’d hit first place.”

“Was your father there to watch you race?”

“I don’t know.” Her frown was back. “It would make sense that he’d come, but I don’t have a memory of him being there.”

He hid his disappointment, wondering if the main reason she couldn’t remember was connected to her relationship with her father. They’d looked chummy enough in the picture of the Derby Winner’s circle, but one snapshot didn’t mean anything. When she continued to rub her temples, he put a hand on her arm. “Hey, it’s great you remembered such an important event in your life.” He strove to sound reassuring. “Maybe this is how it works, bits and pieces of your memory fall into place over time.”

“Maybe, but we don’t have much time.” She frowned. “What if the race tomorrow is rigged? No matter who wins the race, Fiona’s Folly, Savior’s Journey, or some other horse, we’ll never know if something bad happened that set up that horse and jockey to win the million-dollar purse.”

“The racing officials will learn the truth eventually.” At least, he thought they would. There must be some controls put in place to prevent cheating. “They drug test all the horses, right?”

“Right.” She sighed and shook her head. “That brings me right back to the doping scandal and the possibility that Jacobson stumbled across someone messing with one of the horses. I can’t help but think that his death was no accident. It would be nice to know that for sure.”

“Hang on, let’s see if there’s anything new.” He used his phone to search the trainer’s name. Several articles popped up on the small screen,

The first hit from a well-known sports channel source only reiterated the news of his death. As Doc scanned the brief article, he was disappointed to see there were no additional details as to what caused the trainer’s death. “Nothing yet. But it’s still early. I’m sure we’ll learn something within the next few hours.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket and glanced at his watch. “Our table should be ready soon.”

He was just about to head over to ask the hostess for an update on how long they’d have to wait when he noticed a black SUV driving slowly down the street toward the restaurant.

Doc instinctively tugged Fiona back and around the corner of the building so they were out of view.

“What’s wrong?” She glanced nervously over her shoulder.