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Chapter Six
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“Mr. Mason, I have some good news for you.”
I was already sitting up in bed when the doctor walked in. I was feeling stronger, and I was sure if the medical team had somewhere to put me, they’d have discharged me by now. I wanted to leave as well, but I had no idea where I was supposed to go. All I had to my name was a credit card, which the medical bill had most likely maxed out, and a driver’s license. Did I even have a car? I had no clue, and neither did anyone else.
I straightened. “You do?”
He smiled back at me, in that reserved, professional way the medical staff all seemed to have perfected. “Yes. One of the local newspapers ran a small article on you—the man found half-drowned and now suffering with amnesia—and it seems someone has recognized you.”
A chill hit my heart and spread through my veins. I remembered a reporter asking after me, even perhaps a photograph being taken, though I hadn’t consented to it. Now someone had recognized me and perhaps knew who I was.
“They have?”
“Yes. Not a family member, I’m afraid, but a business associate. He’s right outside. Is it all right with you if I bring him in?”
I didn’t know why this was making me so uncomfortable. Perhaps it was normal? I had no idea what was normal in this situation. But what I did know was that this had definitely put my teeth on edge. “Did he say anything more? Which business, for example?”
“No, I’m sorry, he didn’t. I’m sure he can explain more himself. Shall I bring him in?”
I could hardly say no. “Sure.”
I found myself reaching for something at my side—a completely unconscious gesture. What was it I had been reaching for? A gun? Had it been a gun? If so, then I was someone who would normally carry a weapon, and that would also mean something about this situation told my subconscious it was dangerous and I should be prepared.
Who the hell had I been?
The doctor walked back in, another man following him. He appeared to be my age, perhaps a little older. He smiled as he approached, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. All my inner alarms were blaring like I was in the middle of a raid. Did I recognize him? His appearance was bland, even boring, conformist in a charcoal gray suit and black dress shoes. His short brown hair was neatly cut and pushed back from his face with some kind of product. He didn’t look dangerous, yet my flight or fight response had gone into overdrive.
“Lee!” the new arrival said, moving past the doctor to approach me with his hand outstretched. I had no choice but to shake it, and he clapped me on the back. “I can’t believe what happened to you. No memory?”
I frowned and shook my head.
“So you don’t remember me at all?”
Again, I shook my head. “No, sorry.”
“Not to worry,” chimed in the doctor. “Hopefully Mr. Baglione here will be able to fill in some blanks for you.” He looked between us, as though assessing the situation, and then gave a smile. “I’ll leave you both to catch up.” Then he turned around and walked out of the room.
“Baglione?” I said to the new arrival. “That’s your name?”
He nodded. “Harvey Baglione.” He looked at me curiously, as though he didn’t quite buy that I didn’t recognize him or remember his name. “Of course. I’ll do everything I can to help, though you’ve always been a bit of a closed book, Lee.”
“Yes, it seems that way. So you know me from work? What exactly do I do?”
“You’re in human resources—getting rid of people surplus to their positions.”
I frowned. “I was in an office job?”
“Well, it isn’t quite office based. You freelance a lot—go into companies who need to get rid of the slackers. It’s a consultant position, really, working out how to get departments that are flagging to be a bit more streamline, which essentially means getting rid of people.”
“Right.” Something didn’t ring true. I couldn’t imagine myself in a shirt and tie, just like this guy was, going into offices as a consultant. The firing people part I could understand—when I tried to imagine what kind of emotions I would experience at telling someone they’d lost their job, I felt nothing. My heart was cold as ice, but I still couldn’t imagine getting up to put on a suit every morning and treading the corporate line.
I had to ask this man some more questions. “Do you know if I have a home around here? A family? Friends, even?”
He shook his head. “Nah, sorry, buddy. You were staying in hotel rooms when I met you, and never spoke of any family.”
“Sure.”
