Page 71 of Help Me Remember

“I…stepped in something here, didn’t I?” she asked, glancing between Eric and me.

I was sure the smile I gave her was not even remotely believable or comforting. “I think you figured that out when you realized you’d accidentally questioned a high-ranking member of an international criminal organization, Officer Fitz.”

“Call me Ana,” she said, finally taking a seat at a table a sizable distance from us. “And you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but that’s not what you’re here to talk about,” I said, aware Eric had barely moved.

“There’s not much to tell. I was on patrol around here because my captain forced me on literal nothing duty after the FBI took over.”

“Stonewalled and put in time-out?”

“Yes. But imagine my surprise when I’m out seething over watching the yuppies, and I hear something over the radio. It wasn’t supposed to be on our band and was quickly covered up, but lo and behold, I heard the address they said.”

“They? Oh, the FBI.”

“They screwed up when they called in the attack.”

I snorted. “Attack. He’s got a bump on his head and a headache for his troubles.”

“Considering you hit your head, I think you’d be a little more empathetic,” she said with an arch of her brow.

I flinched. “Point taken.”

“Before I continue, you really don’t remember who you are, but you had no problem attacking a federal agent?” she asked in disbelief.

“To be fair, I didn’t know he was a federal agent. I suspected a cop, but—”

“How is that better?”

“When I get to my half of the story, you’ll see.”

Something I wanted to call fear flickered behind her eyes and then died. “Right, well. There’s not much more to tell after that. There was no call over the radio that you’d been caught, and even that they would have announced, or at least that they were calling off the investigation. And with how you got out of our precinct, I had this nagging feeling you weren’t getting caught too easily.”

“A hunch?”

“Instinct.”

I gave her a humorless smile. “I know something about that.”

She stared at me for several seconds before clicking her tongue. “Luck.”

“Luck?”

“That’s what got me here. There I was, daydreaming of potentially finding you as I drove over here to grab myself a late breakfast from one of the better sandwich places in the city. The next thing I know, there you are, completely oblivious and staring goo-goo-eyed at Eric.”

I blinked, uncomfortable with the reminder of the storm building in Eric beside me and a little self-conscious. “Goo-goo-eyed?”

She snorted. “I knew you two were a thing.”

“Were,” Eric said, and I pretended I didn’t feel the ache in my chest twist into something nastier.

“Pure luck,” I said with a mirthless laugh. “Of course, Eric was right, with the way things have been for us lately, it makes sense.”

“Now I find out if it was bad luck or good luck,” she said, leaning forward. “Talk.”

“There’s not much more to tell. Eric told you most of the story. We just left out the details. Like the Los Muertos thugs that came to his house knew who I was and mentioned Gabriel. He skated over the fact that I knew we were in danger because I speak Russian, and as we found out, apparently Portuguese as well.”

“Oh, a polyglot and a crime lord, classy.”

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