Kay David

Not Without The Truth


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Where is—”

      Armando held up his hand. “I’ll answer your questions the best I can, but I may not know everything—”

      “I don’t care! Just tell me!”

      “Your name is Lauren Stanley and you are from Dallas. You’re a writer, for a magazine called Luxury, and you were here on assignment to do an article about Machu Picchu and some of the other ruins. Your father is a doctor and he started to worry when you didn’t call in as expected. Apparently you and he have some kind of system where you check in with him on a regular basis. He was afraid something had happened.”

      Her expression became remote. “What’s his name?”

      “J. Freeman Stanley.”

      “Does he know I’m all right?”

      “He’s been told. My friend said he was very relieved and he wants to talk to you as soon as possible. When we finish here, you can call him if you like.”

      He fell silent. She’d asked all the right questions, yet there was something missing. After a second, he realized what is was; none of the information he’d given her was resonating. Her expression held no reaction whatsoever. Normally he wouldn’t have been surprised by that, but because of her eagerness, he expected disappointment from her, if nothing else.

      “Does any of this sound familiar?” he asked, just to be sure.

      She shook her head slowly. “You could be talking about a stranger for all I know.”

      Armando stood. “Don’t worry about it for now,” he ordered. “Once you speak with your father that could change.”

      Lauren opened her mouth to reply, but her expression went blank. Her eyes glazed over and became unfocused, then a second later, she jerked so hard the bed moved. Fearing a seizure or even something worse, Armando grabbed her shoulders and spoke her name loudly.

      The episode was over almost before it began. She blinked then looked straight into his eyes and gasped.

      “I was in a jungle and there were birds,” she said. “Th-then I was flying.”

      He loosened his hold on her arms but he didn’t release her. “You’re not flying, Lauren,” he said forcefully. “You’re in bed. I have you. You’re safe.”

      “It felt like I was looking at you behind a veil. I thought I was dreaming but it was more real.”

      “Describe what you saw.”

      “Thick foliage,” she said haltingly. “The sound of birds, a rope sliding through my hands.” She stopped abruptly and went silent, the intensity of the sensation obviously still frightening to her. “I was up high but I felt a rope,” she said. “There was a rope in my hands!”

      He took her hands and turned them over, shaking his head as he stared at the scabs that covered her palms. “I thought these were rope burns but then I convinced myself they were scratches from a tree limb you’d tried to grab. I should have known better.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Someone must have tried to help you after you fell into the water. Was there anyone with you?”

      She screwed up her face as if she could force the memory out of her brain, but in the end, all she could do was shake her head. “I don’t know! I guess anything’s possible, but I don’t know.”

      He released her hands and patted her arm, his reassurance swift and soothing. “It will come to you,” he said in a comforting voice. “It will come.”

      “Is that a promise?”

      “This is Peru,” he answered cryptically. “Promises are all that we have.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      ARMANDO TORRES GAVE HER his cell phone then stepped outside as she dialed the number written on the small slip of paper he’d handed her. The first ring had barely finished when the phone was answered at the other end.

      “Children’s Clinic. How may I direct your call?”

      “I need to speak with Dr. Stanley,” Lauren said. “This is his daughter calling.”

      She felt strange describing herself as someone’s daughter but as Lauren waited to talk to the man who claimed to be her father, she knew that Armando had told her the truth. She trusted him but she wasn’t quite sure why.

      “Lauren?”

      She gripped the phone tighter as her name was spoken. “Y-yes,” she managed to say. “This is Lauren.”

      “Oh, sweetheart! You don’t know how worried I’ve been. Thank God you’re all right! How do you feel? When are you coming home? They told me you lost all your things! Do you want me to come down and get you?”

      The man at the other end stopped to take a breath and when he did so, he seemed to realize how rattled he sounded. He laughed apologetically. “I’m sorry—I know I’m running off at the mouth, but I’m just so relieved to know you’re okay. Tell me how you feel.”

      “I’m still a little sore,” she said, “but Dr. Torres has reassured me nothing’s broken.”

      His voice was strained. “Is he taking good care of you?”

      “Absolutely,” she said. “Except that I have this…memory problem—”

      Her father broke in, his tone switching to a more professional level. “I understand but I don’t want you to worry about that, Lauren, okay? It’s a temporary setback and you’re going to be fine. Once you’re back home, we’ll get you in to see Dr. Gladney right away. The two of you can work everything out, just like you did before. You’ll be fine in no time.”

      To Lauren’s ears, his manner seemed forced, but maybe he was simply overwhelmed with worry. “Dr. Gladney?”

      “She’s your therapist, honey. You don’t remember her?”

      “I don’t remember me,” Lauren replied, half joking, “how could I remember her?”

      He took her question seriously and Lauren got the impression that he probably took most things that way. “Dr. Gladney is a specialist in psychotherapy as it relates to traumatic reassessments and integration, Lauren. She’s worked with you for years, ever since—”

      He broke off and Lauren asked, “Ever since what?”

      For a moment, a static silence whispered down the line, then he spoke again. “Ever since your mother died. You don’t remember that, either?”

      A vague reaction tugged at the back of her mind—something forbidden and scary and chaotic. She tried hard to pull more out of the fleeting sensation but failed. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to…”

      “It’s okay.” She could tell he was trying to hide his shock. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about that later.”

      Lauren pressed him. “Tell me now,” she insisted. “Dr. Torres said all I might need is a single memory and everything else might come back. I want to know.”

      “It’s complicated—”

      “Then simplify it.”

      “All right,” he said reluctantly. “The truth is your mother took her own life when you were ten. It was a very sad time for all of us and it was especially traumatic for you. You found the body.”

      “I—I can’t believe I wouldn’t remember something like that,” she said in sudden shock. “It must have been horrible…”

      He hurried to reassure her. “Your reaction is extremely typical, Lauren. I’d be surprised if you did remember it. Don’t worry about it, all right? We’ll handle everything when you get back. Dr. Gladney and I will help you, I promise. You’ll be fine as soon as we get you home.”

      He sounded as if he thought