Freefall by Kristen Heitzmann Read Free Book Online Page B

days.” Hearing herself, she knew exactly what he thought; it wasn’t enough. How could they mount a search without knowing who and where?
    With his tanned, sinewy foot, he pushed one of the patio chairs away from the table. “Sit.” He went inside with the gray-and-white cat following at his heels. A minute later he appeared with another mug that he put into her hands. “Kona. Plantation reserve.”
    Did he think she cared? But the first sip was amazingly smooth, and maybe it would clear her head. He took his place at the rail, and she tried not to notice his musculature, the crescent-shaped scar on his lowest left rib. She didn’t want to notice anything about him. She wanted to find the person she’d recalled, someone who must be lost still.
    He said, “Tell me what you remember.”
    She swallowed. “I came out of the mountains and—”
    “How did you come?”
    “Across the valley.” She motioned out over the banister toward the mountains. “Before that, I came down a long way, and there was a stream. Higher up it was bigger, but it divided.” Even to her ears it sounded vague.
    He looked toward the mountains. “What were you doing up there?”
    She frowned. “I had a hydration pack, energy foods, so I must have been hiking.”
    “You don’t know?”
    She wanted to say yes. It only made sense, but she really didn’t remember anything for sure. “I had no overnight gear.”
    “You might have made camp and only taken what you needed for a day hike.” He seemed to be taking her seriously, prepping her for the police?
    “It’s possible. But what matters is there’s someone out there.”
    “One person or more?”
    She frowned. “I saw one.” Only she hadn’t really seen, just glimpsed, a fragment of memory so brief, yet so real.
    “Male or female?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
    “What’s your guess?”
    “Male.” She didn’t know why.
    “Mine too.”
    She met his gaze. “I need to tell the police.”
    “You’ll have to give it to them straight.” He gripped his cup. “No holding back.”
    As though she had been. “I know.”
    “You’re willing to risk it?”
    She wanted to shake him. “I don’t have anything to hide.” She hadn’t gone before because of vague, unsettling concerns. But if someone else was at risk, what did that matter? She stood up and turned toward the stairs.
    “Hold on,” he said. “I’ll drive you.”

    At the police station, Cameron hooked fingers in a locals’ handshake with Officer TJ Kanakanui, whose grip matched his size.
    “Howzit, brah; you busy?”
    TJ shrugged. “Choke paperwork. Got someting bettah?”
    “One, da kine, situation.”
    “What you got, Kai?” His glance slid over to where Jade waited by the door.
    “Remember I asked about missing persons?”
    “Someone lose one ono wahine ?” TJ warmed to the subject. “You tinking finders keepers?”
    “That wahine showed up at Nica’s a few days ago. Doesn’t know who she is.”
    TJ sobered. “You serious?”
    “Dead serious. And now she thinks someone else might be lost. Maybe you better talk to her.”
    “Yeah, brah. Maybe bettah.”
    Cameron rejoined Jade. “He’ll hear you out.”
    She looked past. “You know him. The officer?”
    “Went to school together.” He led her back to TJ’s desk. “Tell him whatever you can.” To TJ he said, “She’s going by Jade,” then perched on the corner of the desk beside a heap of papers TJ would get to when he felt like it.
    Kanakanui slid out a chair for her and dropped the pidgin. “What can I do for you, Jade?” His chair protested when he sat, flexing his biceps to cross his arms. Behind his aloha smile the cop assessed her.
    “I need you to find someone.” Her voice thickened. “Someone who’s lost.”
    TJ dug a clipboard from the chaos of his desk. “Okay, tell me what happened.”
    Jade described her trek out of the mountains and her realization that she’d lost her memory when Nica asked for her name.