over and help with the new wing. When he didn’t show up, I came looking for him.” He gestured to the wall. “What happened here?”
Amy looked at the three holes—two in the wall and one in the mat. The darts were gone. She said, “Someone tried to use darts to shoot Lucas and Juan.” She blinked and asked Jonathas, “What happened to the darts? They were still there a few minutes ago.”
Jonathas shrugged. “I don’t know. I just got here and this is what I found when I walked in. Why would someone try to hurt either of them?”
“Good question,” Juan answered from behind. Amy spun around and came nose to chest with the man. She stepped back, flustered. Juan frowned down at her and said, “I thought you were going back to the main building.”
Why did she feel guilty? “I did, but then I decided to come here and just…see…whatever. I don’t know what I expected to find. Something.”
“Where are the darts?” Lucas asked, frowning.
Amy shrugged. “I have no idea. They were gone when I got here. Jonathas came looking for you and said they were gone when he got here, too.”
Lucas growled. “Should have collected and bagged those before going on our wild-goose chase. The guy probably watched us leave, then rounded the corner, came in here and pulled his evidence.” He raked a hand through his sandy blond hair. Dark eyes glittered with frustration under his brows.
Juan stomped over to the wall, studying the hole. “You think anything was on the tips of those darts?”
Lucas looked startled. “What? Like poison?”
“Yeah.”
Amy swallowed hard. Poison? And why did Juan all of a sudden look extremely familiar? Seeing just the right side of his face, in profile, without the scars, he reminded her of someone. The way he tilted his head, the quirk of his lips. She racked her brain but couldn’t pull a name from it.
Juan looked at Lucas. “You got a pocketknife on you?”
Lucas handed it over. “What are you doing?”
“Well, if there was poison on the tips of those things, some of the residue would be left in this wood.” He flicked the knife open. “Now, I just need a plastic Baggie.”
Amy bit back surprised laughter. Plastic Baggie? He’d sounded so…professional up to that point. She moved to the first-aid kit that hung on the wall.
“Here,” she said pulling out the Brazilian version of the Ziploc bag. “Your plastic Baggie.”
Juan smiled his thanks and his eyes glinted. He’d seen her humor and appreciated it.
With the knife, he scraped around the hole left by the dart and caught the shavings in the plastic bag. “Could I have two more?”
Amy shook off her thoughts; told herself it wasn’t important and complied. “What do you need two more for?”
Juan explained as he worked. “Well, there were three different darts. I want samples from the three different holes. I’m just curious. If there was something like poison on the tips, was it all the same or was there something different on each one—or something on one, but not the others?” He exchanged the second bag for the third. This time, he used the knife to cut a patch around the hole in the mat and then placed the entire specimen in the bag.
Once all three were filled, sealed and labeled, he looked at Lucas. “Will the police department be able to do a better job with this than they have with finding out who I am or who tried to kill me once before?”
He sounded bitter, and Amy’s heart ached for him. Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know. Leave me some of the shavings and I’ll look at them under a microscope. We’ll give the rest to the police and hope for the best. If they don’t come up with anything, I can have everything shipped to the States for examination. I have some friends on the police force in South Carolina.”
Amy got two more bags, and the men worked on preserving some of the samples. Jonathas watched the proceedings in silence. Finally, everything that could be done was done. Amy looked at Juan and asked, “How do you know so much about evidence collection? What are you? A forensics guy or something?”
THREE
How do you know so much about evidence collection?
The question tormented him. How did he know what to do? The work felt natural, second nature, as if he’d done it before. He closed his eyes and searched his brain. Then he groaned with frustration. Why couldn’t he remember?
He’d had CAT scans, MRIs, everything. Lucas had donated both of the extremely expensive machines to the hospital—and used them on Juan. Nothing showed up as permanent damage. In fact, his last scan showed his brain had fully recovered from his head trauma.
And yet—he couldn’t remember.
God, are you there? I honestly believe I can say I believe in You. So, can you help me? Please?
He opened his eyes and looked at Amy, who stood waiting for an answer to her question. He wished he had one to give. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Amy’s eyes conveyed sympathy and she turned to Jonathas. “Well, guess that’s it for the excitement around here. Anyone ready for something to eat?”
Jonathas flashed a rare smile. “Always.” He headed toward the cafeteria located off the side of the main building.
Amy saw Salvador and Carlita walking with several other children. She waved and smiled. Salvador waved back; Carlita stuck a finger in her mouth, but at least she didn’t turn away this time. In fact, she even offered Amy a shy smile. Progress.
Lucas said, “I’ll call the police and talk to the chief, see if he wants to come out here. My guess is he’ll just tell me to bring him the evidence. There’s a small lab here in Tefe. Any big stuff has to be sent to Manaus or São Paulo.”
He headed off, and Juan turned to Amy. “Walk with me along the river? I’m not very hungry right now. My appetite is still trying to work its way back to normal.”
She smiled. “Sure.”
They headed down the path that led to the river and he asked, “What are you doing here, Amy?”
Juan watched her hesitate, her delicate brows drawing together into a frown. “What do you mean?”
He wanted to ask her all about herself, her background, find out what made her tick. The sadness he sometimes saw flicker in her eyes told him she had a depth to her that he was interested in trying to discover. What had happened in her life to shadow her beautiful eyes? “Just, why here? Why this orphanage? You’re very passionate about helping. More so than the average person.” He shrugged. “I guess I’m just curious as to why.”
She kept walking, turning her head as she thought. He wished she hadn’t, he wanted to see her face. Finally, she said, “Because of my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“Mmm, hmm. Because of her, I want to spread
