Remember Jamie Baker (14 page)

Ryan shook his head. “I think it’s the eyes. Not many people have yellow eyes. Chelsea’s Angel wore a mask, so her eyes really stuck out. With the green eyes, you were never recognized as the Angel. We’ll get you some new contacts and you should be fine.”

Geez, the guy just had an answer for everything, didn’t he? I glared at him, and he graced me with another peck on the cheek. He was so touchy-feely. If it didn’t feel so nice every time he touched me I’d have zapped him for it by now, but the more contact he made, the more I started to crave it.

What was wrong with me? I definitely wasn’t as warm with anyone else. I hardly ever let Teddy touch me, and if any of the other ACEs tried to kiss me they’d most likely get zapped for their efforts. But Ryan? I’d practically given him permission to hold my hand and kiss my cheek whenever he felt like it because I never made any effort to stop him. I never even got mad at him for it. Was I starved for attention from being so lonely for the last six months, or had I always been that weak with Ryan?

“I’ll be right there with you, Jamie. You’ll be fine. As long as you don’t blow up any cameras or fry any reporters.”

“That’s a big possibility,” I grumbled.

I couldn’t believe I was really going to do this. This plan had disaster written all over it.

Dave Carter worked for CNN
in New York City. I took Ryan and Major Wilks with me superstyle while the rest of the team agreed to wait and follow us by plane later. It gave us some time to work out a plan with Carter, and kept me out of the skies.

Carter’s office was in the Time Warner building on the southwest corner of Central Park. Columbus Circle, a small roundabout with a monument dedicated to Christopher Columbus, rested between the building and the park. It was a nice little sanctuary with a fountain, landscaping, and benches for people to sit and enjoy the city. I stopped there, and both Ryan and Major Wilks immediately plopped down onto the closest bench to catch their rolling stomachs.

“That was interesting,” Major Wilks rasped as he hunched over and took a deep breath. “Is it always like that?”

I shrugged. “Teddy got used to it pretty quickly, and it just feels normal to me.”

Ryan stood and stretched. His face was a lot less green than the major’s. “It won’t take long. This run was already better than our run through the desert last night. I don’t even feel sick to my stomach. Just a little dizzy.”

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, not in the mood to waste any time.

Ryan pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call Carter, and then we can go from there.” He dialed a number, waited a moment, and then said, “Dave Carter, please. Well, interrupt him. Tell him he has an old friend waiting to see him outside, and that he has five minutes to get down here or we’ll take the story to Fox News.”

He hung up without saying anything else. “Fox News?” I asked. “You know we can’t take our story to anyone else.”

Ryan gave me a sheepish shrug. “I just wanted to make him hurry. He’s not my favorite person in the world. You’ll understand after you meet him.”

Major Wilks asked Ryan a question about Carter, and while they talked I took the opportunity to look around. I’d seen pictures of New York City before and watched a few movies that took place here, but seeing the city on television and being here in person were two entirely different things. New York is so vast it feels as if it’s swallowed you whole. Standing among all those skyscrapers made me feel like an ant at the feet of giants.

After spending the last six months completely alone in the middle of the open desert and my two-minute walk down the Las Vegas Strip, I think it’s safe to say I’m more of a small-town girl. Especially taking into account the sights and smells of the city wreaking havoc on my supersenses now. I pulled my notebook out of my purse and flipped to the section reserved for dislikes. Flying and large cities both made the list.

“Whatcha got there?” Ryan stepped up behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder. As he slipped his arms around my waist, he scanned the list of words in my notebook.

Could he go five minutes without touching me? I doubted it. “Ryan…”

Completely misinterpreting my warning, he gave me a squeeze and softly kissed my neck once. “Yeah, babe?”

I sighed. How could I ask him to back off when he made holding me seem so natural? “Never mind.” He was completely hopeless. “I call it my Me notebook. It’s everything I’ve learned about myself since my memory restarted.”

Intrigued, Ryan released me and plucked the book from my hands. He wandered back over to the bench Major Wilks was sitting on and flipped through the pages. “Sarcastic, volatile, not a morning person, emotional, impatient…” Ryan laughed and held out his hand to me. “Give me your pen.”

“Why? What are you going to write?”

“I could add a million things to this list, but for now I’d settle even one positive personality trait. You’re always so pessimistic.”

I snorted. “Pessimistic is not a positive trait.”

“Just give me your pen before I have to add
stubborn
.”

I smirked as I held out the pen. “That one’s already on there.”

“It’s worth repeating.”

Ryan snatched the pen and immediately started writing. When I tried to look, he turned away from me, shielding his answers. Deciding to let him have his fun, I left him to his task and went to sit on the edge of the fountain. At the bottom of the pool resting beneath the water was a mountain of coins. I was curious. Why would people throw money into a fountain? “What’s with all the loose change in the water?” I asked Major Wilks, who was finally feeling better and had come over to join me.

Major Wilks gave me a puzzled frown. “Amnesia,” I reminded him, feeling like a freak.

Comprehension struck and his frown morphed into a sympathetic smile. “It’s just a tradition. You’re supposed to make a wish, and when you throw your money into the fountain your wish will come true.”

It was a happy sentiment, but it made my heart sink. “If only things were that simple.”

“Nothing’s ever simple, Angel.” When I looked up, Major Wilks fished a coin from his pocket and placed it in my hand. “But even the most complicated things have a way of working themselves out—one way or another.”

My eyes drifted back to Ryan, who was still busily scribbling away, and I wondered if the major was right. Maybe I couldn’t have my memories back, but there were still plenty of things I could have. That would have to be enough. Closing my eyes, I wished for a miracle and flicked the dime into the fountain. It felt like a fool’s hope, but it was still hope, and I would hold to it.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

I whirled around to see a man shaking his head, staring at me with a stunned expression. Carter, the tabloid journalist turned serious reporter, looked to be in his forties and fit the picture I’d had in my mind perfectly. He was very average looking, with a few wrinkles in his skin and a hairline that was threatening to recede. He wasn’t overweight, but I doubted he could go very far on a treadmill.

The only really notable thing about him was the intelligence in his eyes. Teddy had that same look about him, and so did Blake. He was a bright man, this reporter who was supposed to be my friend. I hoped he could really be trusted. He met my gaze with an amused smile. “It’s been a while, Jamielynn.” His eyes scanned me from head to toe, stopping on the bruises ringing my neck. “You look like crap.”

The response caught me off guard. I should have been offended, but for some reason the insult made me smile. “Yeah, well, I’m on the run after almost being murdered by three psychotic superthugs yesterday. What’s your excuse, old man?”

Carter blinked and then slapped his thigh as he burst into laughter. “It’s good to see you alive, Jamie.” He shocked me by pulling me in for a hug. Looking to Major Wilks or Ryan for help, I gave the stranger an awkward pat and pulled away from him. He looked me over again, as if he still couldn’t believe his eyes. “Where the hell have you been? Not even a phone call?”

Before I could reply, Ryan jumped up from his bench and joined us. He slipped my notebook back in my purse and hugged me tightly to his side. “She has amnesia. She doesn’t remember anything before the explosion. She didn’t know who she was until we found her yesterday.” He sounded almost proud of the fact, or maybe excited, which was slightly disturbing. But I guess it must have been a relief to him considering the alternatives—that I was either dead, or alive, and had just never bothered to contact him.

Carter threw me a startled look. “Amnesia?”

I shrugged.

He digested this, then nodded. “Huh. Interesting.” With one last disbelieving shake of his head, he glanced curiously at Major Wilks and asked, “So what brings the three of you to my doorstep?”

Getting right to the point. I liked that, and returned the favor. “We’ve got a plan to find Donovan, and we need your help.”

Carter sighed. “Of course you do. What else is new?”

He wasn’t thrilled at the idea of helping me, but then Ryan said the magic words. “We need you to break a story.”

Carter stiffened as he bounced his eyes back and forth between Ryan and me. He tried to stifle both shock and eagerness, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. I wasn’t really surprised. He was a reporter, after all. “Well.” He glanced at his watch while a giant, smarmy smile bloomed across his face. “What do you say we talk over lunch?” He winked at me and added, “I owe you a Coney dog.”

. . . . .

A Coney dog is apparently a large all-beef hot dog topped with chili, onions, and mustard. I was skeptical at first because it looked like the kind of nasty food Teddy always tried to feed me, but I was pleasantly surprised with how delicious it was. I’m not sure what the difference is between a Coney dog and a regular hot dog, but there definitely is one. Maybe New York has a few perks.

As I packed in two Coney dogs, Major Wilks hashed out all the details with Carter, and then the three of us were escorted to a small studio in Carter’s building where Carter would sit with us for an interview. Major Wilks and Carter were given chairs to sit in, but they’d found a small sofa for Ryan and me. They were really milking this relationship thing.

“Just to be clear,” Major Wilks warned Carter in a whisper as we were all outfitted with microphones and seated in front of the camera, “this is about Miss Baker and her abduction.
Nothing else
.”

Carter rolled his eyes. “As if I’d break
that
story. I’ve been keeping that secret a lot longer than you have, Major. A little trust would be nice.”

Major Wilks scowled but sat down, apparently trusting Carter enough to go ahead with this crazy scheme. I must have been the one who looked like I still needed convincing, because Ryan sighed and put his arm around me. “It’ll be okay, Jamie. I promise. Carter’s pushy and insensitive, but you can trust him with the important stuff.”

Carter scoffed, and Ryan answered him with a smirk. I couldn’t decide if Ryan actually liked Carter or not. I was leaning toward not, but he trusted the guy or he wouldn’t have brought me here. “He’s going to annoy you,” Ryan added in a whisper. “He always does. Try not to fry him.”

I’d already gathered that much. “No promises.”

Ryan laughed. “At least use your low setting.”

I frowned at him. “Killjoy.”

Carter cleared his throat, shooting both Ryan and me a look so dry I was sure he’d overheard us. I didn’t feel bad about that, and neither did Ryan, because he grinned at Carter. “I think we’re ready.”

Carter shook his head. “I know this is asking a lot of you two, but try to keep things professional. This is national news, and it’s live.”

“Live?”
I screeched. My heart leapt into my throat. “No one ever said it was going to be live. I have parents out there somewhere. I haven’t contacted them yet. They can’t find out I’m alive on the
news!
”

Ryan patted my hand. “Jamie, it’s okay. I spoke to your parents this morning while you were sleeping off your concussion.”

I blinked at him. “You called my parents?”

Ryan chuckled. “I call them all the time. Your family is my family, babe. Of course I called to let them know I found you. And don’t worry. I explained all about your amnesia. They know you’re having a hard time right now. They understand why you haven’t called. They also know it wasn’t safe for you to go home, and that you’re helping us try to find Donovan.”

“And the ACEs contacted them the moment we left for New York to explain our plan,” Major Wilks added. “They have all the details.”

“Fifteen seconds!” someone called out from a sound booth.

My pulse skyrocketed and the lights flickered. Major Wilks, Ryan, and Carter all glanced sharply at me. “You okay?” Ryan whispered.

I took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

No sooner did I say that then the guy behind the camera said, “We’re live in five, four, three…”

The cameraman counted off the last two numbers silently with his fingers and then pointed at Carter. Carter put on his best reporter face and looked into the camera. “Good morning. I’m David Carter, reporting live from CNN studios in New York City, bringing you an exclusive interview today with kidnap victim Jamielynn Baker and her fiancé, Ryan Miller. Joining them is Major Kenneth Wilks of the U.S. Northern Command.”

If not for that statement about Ryan, I would have laughed at his reporter voice. Instead, I scoffed. “He’s not my fiancé.”

Ryan sighed, and Carter cleared his throat. “My apologies, Jamie.” He turned back to the camera. “Ryan is Jamie’s
former
fiancé. Jamie is suffering from a case of total amnesia.” He looked at me again. “I assume the lack of memory is the reason for the breakup?”

I gave him a flat look. “You assume correctly.”

“And it’s just a temporary pause in the engagement,” Ryan chimed in. “Not a breakup.”

I rolled my eyes, and Carter, thankfully, moved the conversation along. “Jamie was abducted from her college dormitory six months ago and disappeared without a trace until yesterday evening, when she showed up in Las Vegas where she was brutally attacked by three unidentified men. Those men are now in police custody, and no further details have been released. Is that correct?”

Major Wilks decided to answer that one with a stiff nod and a very threatening “That’s correct.” The answer was a warning.

Carter masked an annoyed expression and turned his attention back to me. I resisted a sigh. I wasn’t looking forward to Q&A time. “So Jamie, the whole world wants to know: What happened to you? Where have you been for the last six months?”

“Both excellent questions. I wish I had answers for you.”

Carter frowned. “You don’t remember
anything?
”

“I don’t remember anything.”

He tried again. “What were you doing in Las Vegas?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did you get there?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did you escape your captors?”

Okay, the man was a moron. I gave him a look that told him exactly how incompetent I thought he was. “Uh, I didn’t escape them. Remember? They were in the process of trying to kill me, when a bunch of soldiers showed up with guns and knocked them out. I got a nasty concussion in the attack. Hence, the amnesia, genius.”

Carter wasn’t fazed by my snark at all. “I assumed you’d escaped wherever you were being held for the last six months and were attacked because those men found you and were trying to bring you back. Is that not what happened?”