His Badge, Her Baby...Their Family? - Stella Bagwell

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That’s why he died when you were still so young.”

      She placed the wedding photo on the mattress next to her thigh, then pressed her palms to her cheeks. “I should be feeling grief or loss or something about my parents. But I can’t feel anything! Not about people I don’t know or remember. Oh, God, this is awful. So awful.”

      The fear and frustration in her voice pierced his heart. “You can’t deal with everything at once. Don’t worry about figuring out where your present family is or how you’re going to find them. Leave that to me and Evan. All those feelings you’re talking about—they’ll come to you once your memory returns.”

      Dropping her hands, she stared at him. “I don’t even know if I have other children or a husband!”

      He tried to muster an encouraging smile. “No. But you’ve learned your name is Geena and you’re twenty-nine years old. And you once had a husband named Vince. That’s a start. We’ll figure out the rest.”

      Before she made any sort of reply, the phone holstered to the side of his belt vibrated. After quickly scanning the text message, he said, “I have to go. If we learn anything that progresses your case, I’ll let you know.”

      In afterthought, he extracted a personal card from his wallet and handed it to her. “My number is on there. If you need me or if you remember anything, no matter how slight, call me. Okay?”

      She nodded and then suddenly her lips began to quiver. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been difficult and you’re trying to help. Thank you for that. Really.”

      Lifting her hand, Vince gently patted the back of it. “Don’t worry about anything. The best thing you can do is take care of yourself and your baby and let me do the rest.”

      She gave him a brave nod, and before Vince could get mushy over the lost look in her eyes, he dropped her hand and hurried out of the hospital room.

      At the end of the long corridor, he spotted Marcella standing outside the door of a patient’s room, writing intently on a clipboard balanced in the crook of her arm.

      “Excuse me, Nurse. Do you have a moment?”

      She glanced up, then smiled when she saw that it was him. “Of course, Detective. How can I help you?”

      “It’s about—” He’d started to say Geena, then decided against it. “The amnesia patient. When you have a bit of extra time, I think she might need a woman to talk to. She’s feeling pretty lost.”

      Appreciation flashed in the nurse’s eyes. “Sure. I’ll check in on her in a few minutes. Thanks for being concerned, Detective.”

      Concerned. That was an understatement, Vince thought as he hurried out of the hospital and across the parking lot to his department vehicle. Thoughts of his ex-wife were totally consuming him. How she looked, the scent of her skin, the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand were bombarding him with feelings he’d believed were long dead.

      It had taken him years to reach a point where he could go to work each day without thoughts of Geena tormenting him, but he’d finally managed to move forward and away from the past they’d shared together. Now she’d shown up out of the blue, carrying more problems with her than one person should have to shoulder, and he could already feel himself falling under her spell.

      It was useless to wonder why this had happened to her, or why she’d reentered his life after all these years. Why didn’t matter anymore. The important thing was to find the father of her baby, and soon. Otherwise, she was going to go into labor without anyone to support her. Except Vince.

      And he didn’t want to be a temporary daddy or a stand-in husband. All he wanted to be was a good detective.

       Chapter Three

      Two days later on Friday afternoon, Vince was in a small break room, filling a stainless steel percolator with water and coffee grounds when Evan stuck his head around the door facing.

      “Hey, Vince, telephone call for you. It’s Dr. Merrick on line two.”

      With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Vince plopped the lid onto the antiquated coffeemaker and glanced around at his partner. “Did he say what he wanted?”

      “No. I’m assuming he’s calling about Geena and wanted to speak with you personally.”

      “You’re working Geena’s case, too,” Vince bit back at him. “Why the hell can’t he speak with you?”

      Evan glared at him. “Probably because you’re her ex-husband. There is a connection between you two. Whether you want to admit it or not.”

      “The definitive word here is ex, Evan. I’m not her husband anymore. Some other man holds that job now.” With the percolator in hand, he walked past Evan and strode quickly back to the office the two men shared.

      At the back of the room, he placed the coffeemaker on a small table and plugged it in before he sat down at his desk and punched the phone line to connect with the doctor.

      “It’s Vince Parcell, Doctor. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

      “Thank you, Detective, for taking my call. This isn’t something I normally do, but I think you’ll agree that Geena’s case is not the norm.”

      Releasing a long breath, Vince glanced across the small office to see Evan had returned to his desk and was studying a screen full of data on his computer. No doubt his partner was also keeping an ear on Vince’s conversation.

      “I’ve never encountered anything like it,” Vince said, then had to stifle a mocking laugh. How had something that inane come out of his mouth? Bumping into his ex-wife, who just happened to be suffering from complete amnesia, along with being eight and a half months pregnant, was not something any man encountered. Not even in his wildest dreams.

      “Have you made any headway in locating her family?” the doctor questioned.

      Leaning forward, Vince propped his forearms on the edge of the desk and closed his burning eyes. For the past three days, he’d worked nearly nonstop, making calls and searching through countless media outlets in an effort to find a link to Geena’s present life. With each day that passed, he was growing more exhausted and frustrated.

      “Several people from Reno who knew her in the past have called to identify her. But none could give us any recent information that might help our cause. We’re still trying to track her mother. But we’re having no luck with that endeavor—yet.”

      There was a long pause, then the doctor said, “That’s unfortunate. I don’t like the idea of her going to a rescue shelter, but it looks like that’s her only option. Unless you can come up with a better plan.”

      Vince sat straights up. “Shelter? What do you mean? Aren’t you going to keep her in the hospital? She’s messed up—I mean, her head—she needs medical care, doesn’t she?”

      “Physically, she’s well enough to leave the hospital. As for her amnesia, she’ll be checking in with Dr. Dunlevy once a week until her memory returns. Or at least until she’s able to mentally deal with the situation. In the meantime, she needs somewhere to live. And I thought you might know of someone who might take her in for a few days. Maybe someone you were both friends with while you were still married?”

      Even though his brain was half-dead with fatigue, it began to spin wildly. “We lived in Reno then. There’s no one here in Carson City who’s acquainted with Geena.”

      “Except you.”

      Vince’s eyes popped open. “Me? Surely you’re not suggesting—”

      “I realize I’m asking a lot from you. But I don’t have to tell you that this woman is in a fragile state right now. She needs to be with someone she can trust. Someone she feels safe with. Right now,

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