He had just passed a McDonald’s when he heard the call, sharp and piercing, like the cry of a child. Will had certainly heard owls before, but not since he’d left South Dakota. His grandparents, like many people on the reservation, believed strongly in the omens of birds. Since birds took flight, they were closer to the spirit world than man was, so ignoring a message from a bird might mean missing some warning or promise from powers greater than oneself. Will, in keeping with his rejection of the Sioux culture, had shrugged off the significance of hawks and eagles and ravens, although he couldn’t bring himself to completely disregard owls, which his grandmother said were signs of death.
“Maybe it’s the car,” he said aloud, and almost simultaneously he heard it again, a shrill scream that pulled at his insides.
He braked. Behind him, a van swerved, its driver cursing through the open window. Will pulled over in front of a Catholic church and parked in a towaway zone.
He got out of the truck and stepped onto the sidewalk, lifting his face to the sky. “Okay,” he said sarcastically. “Now what?”
The woman who came through the gate at the side of the church was faintly outlined in white, like a ghost. She saw Will and started to walk a little faster, a smile breaking across her face. Stunned, Will stared at her. She reached just as high as his shoulder and she had dried blood at the edge of her scalp. She came closer, until she stood just inches away, looking at the bruise above his eye. She reached out, this woman Will did not know, and brushed her fingers over the skin. He had never felt anything like it: a touch more quiet than a breath. “Not you too,”
she whispered, and then her eyes rolled back and she started to fall to the ground.
Will caught her and settled her in the passenger seat of his truck.
When she started to stir, he sat as far back against the driver’s-side door as he could, certain she’d scream when she found herself in a stranger’s car. But her eyes blinked open and she smiled so easily that Will found himself smiling back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She swallowed and ran her hand over her hair, smoothing it away from her face. “I think so,” she said. “Have you been waiting long?”
She spoke as if she had known him all her life, which made Will grin. “No,” he said. “I just happened to be passing by.” He stared at her for a moment. “Listen,” he said, “if you’re waiting for someone, I can wait with you until they get here.”
The woman froze. “You don’t know me?” Will shook his head. “Oh God.” She rubbed her eyes. “God.” She looked up at him through tears.
“Well, that makes two of us.”
Will wondered what he had gotten himself into, sitting in his own truck with a woman who was crazy, or so high she couldn’t think clearly. He smiled hesitantly, waiting for her to fall back to reality.
“You mean you don’t know me either.”
“I mean I don’t knowme,” the woman whispered.
Will looked carefully at her clear eyes, at the clotted cut on her temple.Amnesia, he thought. “You don’t know your name?” He switched automatically into the questioning he’d learned as a tribal police officer in South Dakota. “Do you remember what happened to you? What brought you to the church?”
The woman glanced away. “I don’t remember any of that,” she said flatly. “I suppose I should turn myself in to the police.”
The way she said it, like she’d committed a capital crime, made Will smile. He thought of driving her downtown to the Academy, the headquarters of theLAPD. Even if he wasn’t officially on the roster, he surely could pull some strings and check the APBs, see if in fact anyone had been looking for her. He shifted slightly, wincing at the pain that shot over his eye. He remembered the blond cop in Beverly Hills, and he wondered if they all would be like that come Monday.
“I’mthe police,” he said quietly, and even as the words were forming Will knew he would not take this woman to theLAPD, not after what had happened to him, not right away.
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have a badge?”
Will shook his head slowly. “I just moved here. I live in Reseda. I start work tomorrow.” He caught her eye. “I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
She looked at the sharp angles of his face, at the light shifting over his black hair. Nobody else had come. Yet when he had appeared, she’d run to him without any hesitation. Surely for someone who was not thinking with reason, but only with gut instinct, that had to count for something. She nodded.
He held out his hand. “I’m William Flying Horse. Will.”
She smiled. “Jane Doe.” She placed her fingertips against his palm, and with her touch this strange city fell into place. Will thought about the song of the owl, and this gift that had literally dropped into his arms, and as he glanced at her he knew that in some way she was now his.
CHAPTERTWO
SHE kept skipping October. She was supposed to be reciting the names of the months in reverse order, as per instructions of the emergency room doctor, but she kept jumping from November to September. Her face flushed, and she looked up at the man who had been examining her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Let me try that again.”
From across the room where he’d been watching for ten minutes, Will exploded. “Jesus,” he said, moving closer. “I’m perfectly fine, and I wouldn’t be able to do that without messing up.” He glared at the doctor. He’d brought the woman to the emergency room because it was correct police procedure, at least in South Dakota, but now he was having second thoughts. As far as Will could tell, these stupid exercises had done nothing but make her more frazzled.
“She’s lost consciousness at least twice in the past few hours,” the doctor said dispassionately. He held up a pen, inches from her face.
“What is this?”
