Mystery Woman

"My friend mentioned hypnotism."

"Yes, it's called regression therapy, but there are several different types of treatments and different people respond in different ways. The most general is what we're going to start with. It's called cognitive therapy. It's like exercising your mind. I will give you things to read, puzzles to solve, problems to work on, situations where you must make decisions, things like that. At first, it won't seem like it has anything to do with regaining your memory, but as the mind expands its thought process to comply with the additional work you're giving it, it starts to stimulate the unconscious and wakes up parts of the mind that are currently dormant.

"It takes time and I don't want you losing your patience. You need to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course," Linda responded. "Any guess at a timeline, when I might start remembering something? My real name would be nice."

"No, I'm afraid not. It could happen next week, next month, or next year. Are you ready to get started?"

"Absolutely," she stated with enthusiasm.

For the remainder of the hour, the doctor played word association games with her. From the answers Linda was giving her, she knew she was right about the young woman having a hard life.

For the first time since she awoke from her coma, Linda felt hopeful as they finished up. Brea was waiting for her in the outer office.

"So? How did it go?"

"Well, I was born in Oklahoma. My dad is a cattle rancher..." she was having a hard time keeping a straight face. When she saw Brea's jaw drop, she started laughing.

"Jeez, Linda, you had me going there for a minute."

"I know," she laughed again, "you were eating it up like candy."

Linda turned to the receptionist, who was also chuckling, and made another appointment.

On the way home, Linda asked if they could stop someplace where she could buy a journal and a couple of pens. As soon as they got back to the apartment, Linda changed out of her skirt and into a pair of jeans before grabbing the vacuum cleaner. They made a good team. Linda cleaned while Brea prepared to make dinner.

After the first couple of weeks, things were developing into a regular routine. Brea would drop Linda off at the doctor's, then knock around the mall until it was time to pick her up again. Since their return trip took them passed the grocery store, they'd do the shopping on the way back. They had two full bags in the back seat as they returned home from Linda's fifth therapy session.

"I'll take one bag, you get the other," Brea said as she exited the driver's seat. By the time Linda got around to the other side of the car, Brea had the first bag and had already started inside. Linda was leaning inside the back door of the car, grabbing the second bag when she heard the voice of a young man who was two cars away and had his back to her.

"I'm telling you it's her, alive and well. HEY, you were the one who said the bitch was a goner, anyway!"

Linda suddenly saw an image of a shadowy face hovering over, violently ripping and tearing at her clothes. She screamed, dropped the bag, and ran past Brea who had just opened the door to the apartment.

"Linda, what's the matter?" She had no idea what had happened but Linda was frantic. Brea quickly set the groceries down on the floor and followed Linda into her room. Linda was sitting on her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees, pulling them tightly to her chest. She was rocking back and forth as she just stared into space.

Brea sat next to her and gently started rubbing back with soothing strokes. "Linda, what is it? Did something happen in the parking lot?"

Linda didn't respond but just kept staring.

"Did you remember something?"

Linda looked at her friend and slowly nodded.

"Oh, my God, really? Do you remember what happened to you?"

"I heard him. It's exactly what he said, 'the bitch is a goner anyway.' I heard him. He was in the parking lot just now."

"WHAT?" You stay right here, don't move." With that, Brea ran back out to the parking lot to see if she could see anyone, but by that time the kid had disappeared. The rear door of her car was still open so she grabbed the other bag of groceries and went back into the apartment, locking the door behind her.

Linda seemed to be calming down some as Brea returned to her side.

"There's nobody out there now. Did you see who it was?"

"No, I... I'm sorry... I"

"Don't be sorry, for Pete's sake, this is a breakthrough, Linda. You remembered something."

Linda got a funny look on her face.

"What is it? Are you remembering more?"

"Cory..." she mumbled, "I... I think my name is Cory." She furrowed her brow in concentration, then a small smile crept across her face. "Yes, Yes, I'm sure of it, Cory—Corrine," she almost hollered, Corrine... Corrine...?" She was trying so hard. "Ugh, I can't remember my last name, DAMN," she shouted with excited disappointment. "What are you doing?"

Brea was starting to dial her phone. "I'm calling your therapist. She might want you to go right back in to see her."

Unfortunately, Dr. Wahlburg had a full schedule but told them to make sure she wrote down exactly what she saw and what triggered the memory. Next, Brea called Morgan.

Rarely did she call him on the job, so he knew it had to be important. He pulled the car off to the side of the road and answered. "Honey, what's up? Is everything okay?"

"Honey, Linda's name is Corrine." She went on to tell him the whole story. Morgan told her to call the cops immediately and have them send someone to the apartment to take her statement. Lieutenant Ashwood and a patrolman were still there when Morg got home. He was a little surprised to see someone of such high rank. Morgan had met the Lieutenant on just a couple of occasions. He introduced Morgan to the patrolman. A worried Morgan sat with the rest.

"What's going on, Lieutenant? Do you think the guy who shot her lives in the apartment complex?"

"It's a possibility, Morg."

Just then, another uniformed officer entered the apartment. "Sir, I think we have the car from the video."

The lieutenant glanced up. "Video?"

"Yes, Sir, from the hospital... the car that dropped her off."

Anxiously standing, the lieutenant looked over at the other cop. "You stay here with them," he barked.

Morgan accompanied both men in blue, outside. "Sir, it's the same make and model, same color, and it has the same Motley Crew sticker on the bumper. I'm sure this is the same car."

"Did you run the plate yet?"

"No, Sir, not yet."

"Well, do it." The senior officer looked over at Morgan. "We just might have gotten very lucky. Have you seen who drives this thing?"

"No, no clue."

It didn't take long before the other cop was back, holding a small writing tablet. "Sir, the owner's name is Brian Kelsey. He's just nineteen, but he doesn't live here. He lives at 6420 South Columbia."

"Shit," responded the lieutenant.

Morgan was just as disappointed. "Now what?"

"Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on it until somebody comes out and hops in the driver's seat. It's all we can do."

"What about Li... I've got to get used to her real name. What about Cory? Should we put her in a motel for now?"

"I think that'd be best, yeah. Now that we know the perps are still in the area, I can get away with putting her in protective custody. That way the department will pay for the motel. I'll put a female officer in the room with her. Why don't you have her pack some things." Morgan turned and walked to the apartment as the lieutenant turned to his patrolman.

"Park yourself where you won't be seen, but where you can keep an eye on the car. Most likely our boy has a girlfriend or a buddy in one of these apartments, so try to watch and see who exits what apartments. Also, radio in and get a search warrant for his car and residence. We're looking for a gun. I'm not sure what good it'll do us if we do find one. We don't have a bullet for ballistics, but maybe we can use it to bluff somebody into a confession."

"Yes, Sir," acknowledged the officer. He immediately got in his squad car, found a place in the back of the parking lot where he'd be inconspicuous, then picked up his radio and called in for the warrant.

In the meantime, Cory was inside packing some clothes. It didn't take her long; she didn't have that many. The lieutenant spoke into his radio and got things arranged. Cory emerged from her bedroom with a suitcase Brea loaned her.

"Cory, I'm going to take you to a motel we sometimes use as a safe-house. A female officer will meet us there. She'll be spending the night with you. Hopefully, we'll have you back here tomorrow sometime. Our suspect doesn't live here, but we should have him in custody before the night is over, or by moring at the latest."

He turned and addressed Morgan and Brea. "What about you guys? You want someone to stay in the apartment with you in case you get a surprise visitor?"

Morgan looked at his wife to see what she wanted. She smiled back with confidence in her husband. "We'll be okay," she told lieutenant Ashwood.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, thanks lieutenant, but we'll be fine," Morgan confirmed.

"Okay." He looked toward Cory. "You ready?"

"Yes," she answered with a nod of her head.

A female office met them at the motel. Normally, she'd have been in uniform but changed into civies when she got the assignment. They got a room on the second floor, and both cops went through it thoroughly to make sure everything was okay. Lieutenant Ashwood was about to leave when he realized he was hungry. He glanced at his watch and saw it almost seven. His shift ended a couple of hours earlier. "Ladies, I'm starving, what about you?"

Both women were also hungry. There was a take-out menu from the local pizza place on a little corner table near the phone. It took only a minute for them all to agree to the toppings and a large pizza was ordered.

It was after nine by the time the Lieutenant left. Cory was curious. "Janet, the lieutenant isn't married? I didn't see a wedding ring."

Janet knew damn well she shouldn't be spreading her boss's troubles all over town, but... well, they had to talk about something. "He just went through a divorce, a pretty nasty one. She's accused him of all kinds of things, shaking down prostitutes for freebies... all kinds of vile crap. I know it was just to get back at him. There're quite a few guys on the force that are not what you'd call paragons of virtue, believe me, but the lieutenant isn't one of them. He's truly one of the good guys.

"It was actually his wife who was caught cheating. You know, sometimes people can be so stupid. We're trained to be able to detect when people are lying to us. She certainly knew that yet she stood there and lied right to his face. He knew immediately. It took him less than a week to find out who she was sleeping with and catch them in the act."

"That's a shame," Cory commented. "He really seems like a nice guy."

"He is. It's not easy being married to a cop though, even a good one. I sometimes feel sorry for my husband. I know he worries constantly. Every time I walk out the door he wonders if he'll ever see me alive again. That wears on a person.

"A lot of times we're not that easy to live with, either. We're trained to keep cool and always try to deescalate a situation, but we're still human. I'll tell you, when you're out on the street trying to calm someone down while they're screaming at you, calling you vile names, and then spit in your face," she stopped to take a deep breath, "well, let's just say it becomes very difficult to keep your cool. We have to do it though, but for the rest of the day your anger simmers, so by the time you get home, you're ready to tear somebody's head off and guess who gets the brunt of it... yup, your loving spouse. It isn't fair, but sometimes it's just impossible to avoid. Chad, that's my husband, is a real prince. Sometimes I have no idea how he puts up with me," she said with a small smile.

"Yeah, I see your point. I don't know if I'd like being married to a cop." She thought for a second. "I wonder if I am," she chuckled.

"Yeah, we all have our problems, don't we? I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, either. I heard you're starting to remember some things, though."

"Well, just a very little. I'm almost positive my name is Corrine. I'm not really sure how I know that, though. I don't actually remember anyone calling me that; it's just a feeling more than anything. I got a real quick flashback today when I heard that guy talking. It was hearing the words, the exact same words I heard as they were ripping my clothes off. I remembered that and then the name came to me. I... I can't explain it."

"Are you seeing Jerry's sister in law, the psychiatrist? I know he talked to her two or three times on your behalf."

"Dr. Wahlburg; yes, I've been seeing her since I got out of the hospital. Which reminds me; we called her when I had that flashback. I have an appointment with her tomorrow afternoon."

"We should have that guy in custody by then. I don't think there'll be a problem," Janet confirmed.

She was right. The following morning the desk sergeant caught Lieutenant Ashwood as soon as he walked in the door. "Lieutenant, we got that guy from last night in a cell, downstairs. His name is Brian Kelsey. He's nineteen years old, but he says he was at work at the time the mystery woman heard the voice."

"Cory," the lieutenant replied. "Her name is Cory. Did we verify his alibi?"

"I'm afraid so, Lieutenant, about an hour ago, but I didn't want to let him go until I talked to you."

"Good. Do we know who he was visiting?"

"Yeah, some buddy of his, ah..." he checked his report, "a Carl Langford, twenty-three; he's lived there for almost two years."

"Did we bring him in?"

"Ah, no, I don't think so."

"Shit! Didn't it occur to anyone that if the voice Cory heard wasn't the guy we picked up, it was probably the guy he was visiting? Damn it, we've positively identified the car as the one that was used to drop her off at the hospital and we find it in the same parking lot where she overhears somebody talking about raping her. That's not a coincidence. Send a couple of uniforms over there to bring in this Langford guy, and let's hope he's still there. Tell them if he refuses to come in voluntarily, go ahead and arrest him on suspicion of aggravated rape."

"Yes, Sir. You want us to let the other one go?"

"Hell no. What time did they bring him in?"

"Ah," he looked at his roster again, "one-fifteen this morning."

"Then we've got till one-fifteen tomorrow morning before we have to let him go or charge him; any sign of a lawyer yet?"

"No, sir, he hasn't asked for one."

"Good. Is detective Nobles in?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay, bring the kid up to the interview room and tell Nobles to sweat him good. He has to be involved somehow. Maybe Nobles can get him to crack. If not, we'll hold him until his buddy gets here, then we'll play one against the other.

"I'll be in my office. Let me know as soon as they bring Langford in."

"Will do, sir." As soon as the lieutenant had his back turned, the sergeant called detective Noble and told him what was said. While the detective ordered that Kelsey be taken to the interrogation room, the sergeant radioed for two patrolmen to pick up the other suspect.

While this was going on, Janet and Cora were getting ready to face a new day. While Cora took a shower, Janet called the station for an update. She talked to the sergeant who filled her in on everything that was happening, then told her he'd send someone to relieve her.

"Don't worry about it, Sarg. My husband is out of town on business for a couple of nights, so I'm on my own right now. Cora's going to need a ride to her therapist later, so I'll just hang out with her today."

"I can't put you in for overtime, not when there's someone else available."

"I know," she agreed. "I'm not looking for overtime."

"Okay, I'll give you a call later and let you know what's going on."

Cory was just stepping out of the shower as Janet was hanging up. "I just talked to my sergeant. We have one of the guys in custody. We have a DNA sample from a cup he drank out of. They're on their way to pick up the other one, now, the one who lives in your apartment complex. Hopefully, we'll get his DNA the same way. Once we get a match from the sperm samples, we'll have 'em cold. We know there were three of them, so if we can get them to roll over on the third guy it'll be all over."

All that time, Cory had been putting on a brave face, but inwardly couldn't ditch the fear she felt. She almost collapsed on the bed as she sighed in relief. She closed her eyes and laid back with a smile. "God, you have no idea how liberated I feel right now."

"I can imagine," Janet chuckled. "I'm still going to stay with you today, though. I'll drive you to your therapist later, too."

"Okay, good. May I use your phone to call Brea and let her know she doesn't have to drive me while you jump in the shower?"

"Of course."

"Then can we go out for breakfast when you get done? I'm starving."

"Absolutely. Give me ten minutes."

Brea sounded upbeat when Cory gave her the news. "Okay, thanks for letting me know. I was just looking out the window as you called. There are three squad cars out there. I assume they're here to arrest that guy. I can't believe he's been living here this whole time."

"Yeah, kind of scary, huh. I hope they get that third guy, then at least part of my nightmare will be over. All I'll have to worry about then is getting my memory back."

"I have no doubt it'll happen, Cory. Hell, it's already starting to come back a little. Call me later and let me know if you're going to stay there another day or if you're coming back tonight, will you."

"Will do, Brea, bye."

Janet picked the place for breakfast, a little greasy-spoon diner that was a favorite with cops. She figured if anyone was coming after Cory, they'd be nuts to try anything in there.

Afterward, they went back to the hotel and just talked for a little while. Cory learned more about the marital life of a cop.

They were getting ready to go to Cory's therapy session when she checked her purse. "Shit," she uttered.

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, in all the excitement last night, I left my journal at the apartment. I don't have much in it, but Dr. Wahlburg said I should keep it with me all the time in case I remember something. I was also going to use it for taking notes during my sessions. Would you mind terribly if we swung by and picked it up on the way?"

"No, not at all." Janet checked her watch. "We'd better get going then."

When the girls got there, Cory knew Morgan was at work and wasn't sure if Brea was home or not so she used the key they gave her.

"You go grab your journal. I'll wait here by the door for you," Janet told her.

Cory walked down the hall and turned the corner for the bedrooms when she heard Brea talking on the phone. She sounded aggravated.

"Look, Bob, I told you I'm not going to see you anymore. I don't care. I still think you got me into that motel room by drugging me... because I don't remember drinking that much, that's why. Yes, I do remember, and yes, the sex was great."

With everything else going on in her life, Cory didn't take time to think about what she heard, she just reacted. "You're cheating?" Her raised voice expressed her surprise and disappointment.

Brea's head snapped in the direction of the pitiful cry and saw Cory standing in the hall. "Oh shit," she mumbled. "Bob, I have to go," she said before abruptly disconnecting. Before she had a chance to respond, Cory incredulously continued.

"You're cheating on Morgan? I... I can't believe that. You've got the most loving and devoted husband on the planet and you're... " she couldn't say it again. She stood there, staring at her stunned friend. Cory's mind spun around like a pinwheel in a hurricane. Her eyes started filling with moisture as the silence grew.