As the soft snores drifted out of the room, she silently closed the door and headed to the kitchen. She busied herself, trying not to look at the black leather square that beckoned to her from the table. Finally giving up, she seated herself, hesitantly reaching for the wallet.

Carlos Enrique Sandoval, the driver’s license told her, his handsome face smiling up at her. As she slowly flipped through, parts of his life opened themselves to her. He had a PI license and donated blood regularly. He shopped at Costco. Pictures told him there was a girl in his life and that he had numerous friends. Sighing, she closed the wallet and placed it on the table. What was she doing? She knew amnesia was almost always temporary. What was she going to tell him when his memory returned and he figured out she had lied to him? And why had she told him his name was Rick? Oh Rick, she thought. If only someone had been there to help you like I was for him. Yesterday, her decision seemed like the right one but now, she wasn’t so sure. She also knew people would be looking for the man who was lying in her bed. The question was, how would she know whom to trust? "Gwen, what have you gotten yourself into?" she asked aloud.

**

As the unmarked police cruiser slowed in the early dawn, Trent felt his heart skip a beat. He had asked to go along with Ryan after Jess had told about Ryan’s concerns. Now, as he moved to get out of the car, his legs felt weak beneath him. Every step felt like he was weighted down with concrete blocks as he headed towards the side of the road. As he saw the path cut between the trees and the charred area at the bottom of the embankment, Trent struggled to keep his mind from thinking. Thinking of being trapped in a burning car, thinking of hurtling downward toward the trees and river, thinking of his friend. Quietly, he turned away and fixed his gaze across the highway.

Ryan saw Malloy’s struggle and said nothing. He couldn’t imagine the pain this man had been through, now topped off with the possible death of his partner and best friend. Instead, Ryan tried to focus on what had happened. Walking back towards the highway, he busied himself looking for skid marks.

As he walked along, he realized that was one of the things that bothered him. There were almost no skid marks. He was startled by the voice behind him.

"Find anything?" Trent asked.

"Look," Ryan said, motioning toward the pavement. "There were no skid marks until he was almost on the gravel. What caused him to swerve but not brake?"

Trent shook his head. "Ryan, what is up there?" Both men turned toward an outcropping across the highway. "I know this sounds kinda funny but wouldn’t that give someone a perfect angle to see all of this happening? Could there have been a witness?"

"Yeah. I think it is part of a hiking trail. I’ll have someone check it out." Turning towards Trent he spoke quietly. "Do you feel up to going down where the wreck was and taking a look?"

"Did they search there yesterday?"

"Yeah, but I would feel better if I looked around again. You don’t have to go, Trent."

Trent smiled slightly, realizing it was the first time Ryan had ever used his first name. "Yes, I do," he said.

Heading down the embankment, Trent moved easily, his body used to the exertion required for hiking up and down steep slopes. Ryan lagged behind slightly, as his hiking experience was limited to what he had gotten through similar situation in his police work. When they reached the sight, emotion threatened to overtake Trent again. He felt like an icy hand had grabbed his heart and squeezed. He turned and headed towards the river.

Gazing out over the water, Trent took deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He had always loved water; Carlos had not. Sure they had fished together many times but Carlos had never felt particularly comfortable on water. Sighing, Trent let his eyes rove around the bank. Something reflected the sun, catching him in the eye. Moving towards the reflection, he noted what looked like drag marks in the soft earth, as if someone had pushed a boat up on the bank. He was careful not to step on them as he continued his quest. Finally, the object was before him. Picking it up, he realized he was looking at a cell phone belonging to one Carlos Sandoval.

**

The scream shattered the still of the apartment. Sitting bolt upright, it took Jessie another minute to realize where the screams were coming from. Throwing back the covers, Jessie jumped out of bed and covered the distance between the two bedrooms in a time an Olympic sprinter would be proud of. She sat on the edge of the bed, taking Sarah into her arms.

"Sarah, wake up. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare." She tried to keep her voice soothing.

"Jessie, please tell me it was just a nightmare. Tell me Carlos is okay." Sarah clung to her friend tightly, sobbing.

"Oh, Sarah," Jessie whispered, the tears beginning to fall silently down her cheeks. "I wish I could. I really wish I could."

**

"Hi, Sleepyhead," she whispered. His eyes opened and slowly focused on the face above him. He tried to move and stretch, his face wincing with pain. He tried to smile.

"Hi. What’s for breakfast?"

She laughed. "You must be feeling better if you are hungry." She moved to help him sit up, careful of his cracked ribs and bandaged shoulder. "I’m not sure you remember but I set your ankle last night after the morphine. Hopefully, we can get you up in the next day or so, even if it is just to the couch. After breakfast, I will change the dressing on your shoulder and give you another shot if you need it, okay?"

He smiled again. "Thank you, Gwen. I owe you."

Her smile faded slightly. "You don’t owe me anything. I am just helping out a friend." As she moved to get up, he grabbed her hand. "Will you answer a few questions for me?" His eyes were pleading.

"I’ll try."

**

"He’s not coming back, is he?" Sarah’s voice was full of sorrow.

"I don’t know, Sarah," Jessie told her as she busied herself making tea. Sarah sat at the kitchen table, idly playing with the sugar bowl.

"You know, when I thought I lost him the first time, it almost killed me, Jess. When I found out he was alive, I swore I would prepare myself because next time might be for real. I know what kind of business he is in. But you can’t prepare yourself, can you?"

Jess placed two cups on the table. "No, I guess you can’t."

"When Sam was killed, I just shut down, ran away. This time I have nowhere to run." The tears came again, as Sarah tried furiously to wipe them away.

Jessie placed the teapot on the table and sat down. Gently, she placed her arm around Sarah. "Sarah, I know how it feels when you think they are gone. I’ve never felt so alone as when I thought Trent…" She couldn’t finish the sentence. "Just know we are all here for you. We all love him, and you."

**

"RYAN!! GET IN HERE!!!" Ryan was startled by the sound of his captain’s voice. Quickly, he slipped from behind his desk and headed in the direction of the booming voice.

The Captain was standing behind his desk, gazing out at what was promising to be a scorching Dallas afternoon. Without turning around, he barked. "What are you working on?"

Ryan stammered slightly before answering. "There was an accident out on the highway…"

"The PI, right? Sandoval?"

"Yes, sir."

Finally turning around, the captain faced Ryan, his eyes intent. "Ryan, haven’t you got enough cases without making more? I’ve been told it was an accident."

Ryan squirmed. "But sir, there were inconsistencies. Malloy and I found shell casings on the ridge overlooking the accident and…"

He was cut off by the look that came in to the Captain’s eyes. "Since when do you start to work with PI’s?"

"Sir…" Ryan started.

"Don’t ‘sir’ me, Ryan. I need you out there investigating real crime. Sandoval is dead. He killed himself driving off an embankment. Now, I am ordering you to leave this alone and get back to work." He turned back to the window, dismissing Ryan with a wave.

Heading back to his desk, Ryan was miffed. What had gotten into the Captain? He had known Carlos and had liked him. Why wouldn’t he want to know what happened? Something was going on. As he sat back at this desk, Ryan reached for the phone.

**

"Gwen, what did….what…." He struggled with the words, finally deciding to just spit them out. "What did I do for a living?"

She hesitated. "Rick, I think you should wait to remember…"

He cut her off. "NO!" He took a breath. "No, I need to know now." She waited for him to continue. "I had a dream. They were shooting at me. I remember falling, getting shot. I think it had to do with drugs." She hated to see the pained expression on his face. "Was I a dealer?" he asked quietly.

"No," she smiled. "You were undercover. You are a private investigator." She had noted the scars on his shoulder and his midsection, knowing bullet wounds when she saw them. "It was a sting," she said softly, her voice faltering. He had no idea she was remembering something completely different.

**

She stared at the paper, her mind racing. The article was small, so small she almost missed it. "Local PI feared dead after accident" it read. She had read the caption and article so many times, trying to convince herself it wasn’t real. Not Carlos. It couldn’t be. She didn’t want to believe it because to believe it was to consider the possibility it was her fault. Slowly, she raised her head, to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. The bruises were almost gone now and could be hidden with makeup. Not like before. He had hit her and hit her until she was unconscious. When she finally came to she was still lying on the floor where he had left her. He was sitting on the couch watching her. His words had chilled her. "If you ever try to do something so stupid as try to blackmail me into a divorce again, you won’t need it. You’ll be dead." He had then gotten up, placed his drink on the table and walked out the door. The next day she remembered finding her desk in disarray, her telephone directory gone. Could he have found out she used Thunder Investigations? Would he react so violently to kill? All she knew was she had to warn Trent.

**

For the second time in as many days, screams filled the small apartment. This time however, they were coming from beside her. Instantly awake, Jess reached over to calm the thrashing body beside her. "Trent! Trent!" she yelled, trying to wake him. Gradually, the thrashing and screaming subsided, as Trent returned to consciousness. "Shhh," she said, wrapping her arms around him.

**

As Trent placed the key in the ignition, he gazed out into the morning sun. Sighing, he hoped this new dawn would provide new clues to the mystery of his friend. His thoughts were shattered by a bullet as it smashed through the side window of his Corvette.

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