the windshield. Maybe this would be it. Maybe this would be the call that gave him a chance to make a difference in Central Falls and restored his Christmas spirit. Moments later, he searched for anything out of place among the happy shoppers who ambled along Main Street. The Jones boy—George, he recalled—leaned against a light pole, his phone pressed against his ear. Nothing unusual there. A pair of boys on skateboards rolled past the squad car. Jake dismissed them. As long as they wore helmets and pads and didn’t mistake Main Street for a race track, the town’s young folk were welcome on the city sidewalks. His focus shifted to a pair of women who faced one another on the other side of the wide thoroughfare. An odd feeling prickled the back of his neck when one of the pair moved farther down the street, a guide dog’s harness in one hand, a white cane in the other. His attention zeroed in on the woman who remained behind.
“There.” He pointed to a young blonde who wore an unfashionable gray coat.
“Her?” Though doubt filled her tone, Sarah pulled to the curb.
“Yeah, the one wringing her hands.” Trusting Sarah to guard his back, Jake stepped from their squad car as soon as the tires stopped rolling. He moved lightly over the packed snow. Braced for action, he positioned himself in front of the slight figure on the sidewalk, shielding his less-experienced partner with his body in case the stranger made any sudden moves. He pitched his voice to catch her attention. “Excuse me, miss.”
He’d always been a detail man. His military training and his time on the force here in Central Falls had helped solidify his focus. Now, he catalogued images. The agitated woman wore a tiny pillbox hat that looked more decorative than functional. Her wool coat appeared to be well-enough made, but it wouldn’t keep her warm if she stayed outside for long. A pair of thin, leather gloves offered scant protection against freezing temperatures. Her shoes—with their heels and decorative stitching—hadn’t been made for traipsing around in the snow, either. His gaze bounced to a wrinkled brow and brightly painted, pursed lips.
Instinct told him she didn’t pose a danger. The look he traded with Sarah assured him that his partner was of the same mind, and he dialed his tension down a bit.
“Is everything okay?” he asked the woman.
“I—” Tears welled in her blue eyes. “Can you help me?”
“That’s what we’re here for, ma’am.” He took the lead while Sarah whipped a notebook out of her pocket and began taking notes. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Well, I… I had an accident last night.” She worried her lower lip with even white teeth. “My car got stuck in a snowdrift. I made it to a barn, but then I, I passed out or something. When I woke up, everything was… different.” Slowly, she stared at the police car at the curb as if she’d never seen one like it. “And I don’t know how to get back home. Can you help me?”
“You say you were in an accident?” Jake gave the woman an appraising look. Her clothing, though odd, seemed to be intact. She had no obvious injuries.
“Yes…” Her soft voice faded. “I made it as far as the gazebo.” She took a step toward the street. “I just, I just need to find my car. And my purse. I think I left it in the barn.”
“Whoa, now!” Jake grasped the woman by the arm. In her current state, she could walk into traffic and get hurt. “I think the first thing we ought to do is get you checked out. Make sure you haven’t bumped your head or something. Then, we’ll have a look around for that car. Let’s let my partner here get some information. Okay?”
“Name,” Sarah asked, focused on her notebook.
“Hanna. Hanna Morse. I live at 166 Elm Street.” Giving Sarah a puzzled look, she asked, “When did Central Falls hire a woman police officer?”
“I’ve been on the force three months, ma’am.” Turning far enough to one side that Hanna couldn’t see, Sarah rolled her eyes. Her words aimed for his ears only, she added, “Elm Street’s in the business district. Pretty sure the Organic Planet is at 166.”
Jake nodded and keyed his mic. “Dispatch. Tell Chief Munson we’re en route to Doc Lipscomb’s with one Hanna Morse. Ask him to meet us there.” Whatever was wrong with the woman they’d found, Jake had a feeling they’d need Chief Munson’s help in getting to the bottom of it.
Twenty minutes later, Jake motioned Sarah to her feet as the chief stood when Dr. Jessica Lipsomb entered the waiting area of the small clinic. “Hanna Morse appears to be healthy,” she announced to a trio of relieved smiles. “She has no obvious signs of a concussion. Her vision is fine. She has no headaches. I know you’re eager to ask her some questions. She agreed to talk with you while we finish up here.”
Dr. Lipscomb beckoned the three of them to join her in the exam room. There, she took a blood pressure cuff from a rack on the wall. Aiming a reassuring smile at the patient seated on the exam table, she wrapped the device around Hanna’s arm. For the next few minutes, the doctor alternated several routine tests with questions that Jake thanked his lucky stars she’d never had to ask him.
“How long do you think you were unconscious?” Dr. Lipscomb placed the cuff back in its holder.
“I don’t know.” Hanna shook her head. “I, um, I heard a big boom. It was thunder, during the storm.”
Jake studied the slender blonde. “The storm?”
Beside him, Sarah gave her notepad an attention-getting tap-tap-tap and said, “There was no storm last night.” She challenged Hanna with a firm look. “Weather was clear as a bell.”
“What? No!” Hanna protested. “It was terrible. The thunder and the lightning. There was a strange glow in the sky. After that, though, I must have fallen asleep because that’s all I remember.” She peered up at them. “Do you think I’m dreaming? You all seem so real, but everything—it, it doesn’t seem right.”
Chief Munson leaned forward to ask, “How long were you in the shed before you came out?”
“Just the night,” Hanna answered immediately. “My car got stuck in the snow.”
“Her vital signs are normal,” Dr. Lipscomb announced over one shoulder. She held her pen in front of Hanna’s face and moved it slowly to one side.
Ignoring the doctor, Hanna rambled on about dreams. “I was reading Ladies’ Home Journal once, and they had a story on dreams, how they seem real, but…”
“Shhhh,” Dr. Lipscomb hushed her patient. “Just follow the light with your eyes.”
A burst of static sounded in Jake’s ear. He pressed his earbud and listened as reports filtered in from his fellow police officers. So far, no one on the force had spotted an abandoned vehicle anywhere within the city limits. The minute Dr. Lipscomb finished testing Hanna’s vision, Jake updated Chief Munson on the search.
“Maybe we’re looking for the wrong vehicle,” the chief suggested. He shifted his focus to the confused young woman. “Can you tell me the make and model?”
Jake studied the perplexed frown that crossed Hanna’s features. He wasn’t at all surprised when she asked, “Of what?”
“Of your car,” the chief said in the patient voice that earned him the respect of staff and suspects alike. “What kind of car do you have?”
“A Hudson. It’s a Hudson.”
“A what?” Sarah blurted.
Jake smiled to himself. He knew exactly what a Hudson was. There’d been a time when he’d have given his eyeteeth for one of the classic cars.
“My husband bought it right before the war,” Hanna offered.
Chief Munson traded a glance with Jake. Now they were getting somewhere. “And has he been contacted?” the chief asked. “Your husband?”
Jake’s chest squeezed at the look of incredible sadness that crossed Hanna’s face.