* *
BO STARED BLINDLY at the email that filled his computer screen as he sat at his desk the next morning. It was early, and no one was in yet. He hadn’t slept again. Not after hours of self-recriminations about backing away from Erin. It had been the right thing to do, but it wasn’t what he wanted.
This, the content of the email, was supposed to be what he wanted. An offer he’d been working for his entire life—a job with the FBI’s Critical Incident Response Group. He’d helped them a few times as a cop and once recently as an investigator.
He’d use everything he’d ever learned and take it all to the next level. They were asking him back for a final interview, and if it went well, they wanted him to start in August. In Virginia.
He rubbed his hand over his tired eyes, wondering why he didn’t feel happier. This was important to him. Since his uncle had been seriously injured in the Pentagon on 9/11, it was all Bo had lived for. Until Erin.
She had made him believe that he lived for something else. For someone else. For a while anyway.
Erin’s face, her desperation, her crushing disappointment as he’d left the night before, played in his mind’s eye again.
“Damn it.” He closed the email, got up and went to get himself another cup of coffee, and went to check out the morning’s reports, but he couldn’t concentrate.
Could helping Erin remember their past relationship trigger her ability to remember other things, perhaps the fire, or anything she saw that could help them? She’d seemed so sure that being with him would help her remember. Or maybe Bo was finding convenient connections, rationalizations to be with her, when he knew it wasn’t ethical.
He felt like a jerk no matter what he decided. If he did as she asked, he was taking advantage of her situation to have sex with her, no matter how much she said that wasn’t the case. She was desperate to get her memory back, but just because she’d remembered a few tidbits about him―them—it didn’t mean that being with him would fuel any more recollections.
But walking away had been hard. She needed him, and she was right—he needed her, too. He’d tried to pull that need out by the root, but he’d failed. Their last few interactions had proved that.
They’d left things unsaid, and they’d never had any real closure. Maybe that’s why she’d been so difficult to get over, even after all this time. And he wanted her so damned badly. It would be too easy to take what she was offering, and what then?
For her, it was only sex. She wanted him—he knew that, he could feel it. But she was just scratching an itch while trying to get her past back—and if that happened, she’d just remember that she hadn’t wanted him before. Maybe she’d hate him even more for doing this.
Or maybe something would be different? She’d hinted at that. And she did seem...different. Some things were still the same, but there was no doubt that she’d been through a life-altering experience.
Could it have altered what she wanted from life? What she wanted from him?
The chances of her ever going back to firefighting were slim. She had to know that. Even if her memory came back, her physical status after the brain surgeries and her psychological state would all need to be reevaluated. Would the crew trust her as they did before? Could she even walk into a fire, or would she freeze?
He put the reports aside and looked at his computer again. He’d done some research on the brain damage that she’d suffered, and more reading on amnesia. It was a highly specialized topic. There were different forms of forgetting and different reasons people lost their memories.
Erin had what was typically called retrograde amnesia—she’d forgotten everything but her childhood memories up until college. But as Bo read through one particularly interesting medical report online, a theory formed in his mind. He found the number of a psychologist he knew who served the police and the fire departments, and called the number, finding himself on the line with Dr. Newcomb minutes later.
“How can I help you, Marshal?”
“I’m investigating the arson case that killed a fireman in February, and left one with serious brain damage and memory loss. I was wondering if you had a second to answer some questions.”
“I do. I remember the case. I talked with Erin Riley. That’s in the report, so it’s not protected information, though I can’t share any of what we spoke about, of course.”
“Of course. I wanted to ask you about the type of amnesia Erin has. Her neurologist called it retrograde amnesia, caused by the head trauma she suffered, and probably from the brain surgeries, as well.”
“Yes, I recall. I’ve never had a patient with nearly complete amnesia. Is she doing well?”
“I thought you said you were talking to her?”
“Only three times after she left the hospital, and then she opted not to come back.”
Bo smirked. Sounded like Erin. She never did like doctors.
“I was reading up on it on the internet, and I wondered if the neurologist could have had it wrong. I was reading about a kind of amnesia called dissociative amnesia, where she could be blocking something traumatic—something stressful that her brain doesn’t want to remember. Could it be that instead? Do you think she could have seen something at the fire that was so traumatizing that she doesn’t want to remember it?”
“It’s possible, though usually dissociative amnesia wouldn’t be so encompassing. She might block the event, or things related to it, but not her entire life for over a decade.”
“I see. Is it possible to have both? Perhaps the brain damage made what would otherwise just be selective forgetting much worse?”
“Hmm. It’s definitely possible. Why do you think this could be the case?”
“I’m not a doctor, of course, but Erin has been remembering a few details regarding a long-term relationship she had—and she thinks that if she could be with the person in that relationship, she might remember more. Is that possible?”
“It’s a very good sign that she’s remembered anything—that’s promising. It could take days or years, there’s no telling. The brain is unpredictable. But triggers are a key factor—if there’s a strong enough trigger, something so important to her, or so deep in her mind that she’s recollecting it, it’s certainly wise to pursue that. There’s no way to know what or how much she might recall, but it’s certainly possible that opening one strong channel of memory could lead to more recollections. And if she is repressing memories that are too frightening to recall, being with someone who makes her feel safe could help that rise to the surface, as well.”
“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll let her know.”
“Marshal Myers, please tell Erin she’s welcome in my office anytime, especially if she’s going through anything unsettling in this process. I’d love to work with her if she needs more support.”
“I’ll tell her. Thank you.”
Bo hung up, not sure if he should have made an appointment with the doctor. He probably needed his head examined for considering this, but it sounded as though it actually could be possible. That being with Erin could actually bring her
