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“Okay, we’ll take the next exit. We’re making good time, but we’ll need to factor in the traffic when we return later for the race.”

“Yes, parking will be a nightmare.” She had a vague memory of a packed parking lot but couldn’t say for sure if that was a Keeneland Fall race or the Derby. Why were her memories so vague? She’d hoped that getting more sleep would help her brain injury heal. That spurred another thought. “I never got a chance to talk to the neurologist. Just the resident.”

“I know.” Doc grimaced. “I feel bad about that, but since your CT scan was normal, I am not sure there’s much he’d be able to do for you.”

“It’s fine.” She waved a hand. “The only advice the resident had was to be in familiar surroundings. Hopefully attending the race will help.”

Doc pulled off at the next exit. They were only a few miles from Nicholasville, so he headed toward a well-known drug store chain that had a drive-through window. He handed the pharmacy tech the prescription.

“This should be ready in an hour,” she informed them.

“Great. We’ll be back.” He drove away, then gestured to the family-style restaurant. “Would you rather eat there? We have to kill an hour anyway. Afterward, I’d like to pick up a laptop computer. Not having smart phones will put a dent in the flow of information.”

“Eating at the restaurant and getting a computer are both good ideas.”

After getting settled in a booth and placing their order, they sipped coffee while waiting for their meal. She eyed him over the rim of her cup, thinking his five o’clock shadow only made him more attractive.

“We’ll have some time to rest before the race,” Doc said. “Are you sure you’ll be up for that?”

“Yes.” She steeled her resolve. The antibiotics had helped immensely, and her fatigue was nothing compared to what Doc must have been feeling. “I hope you try to get some sleep.”

“I napped in the recliner.” He grinned. “It wasn’t as comfy as a bed, but I’ve slept in far worse places.”

“I’m sure you have.” She stared into her coffee mug. “What if being at the race doesn’t spark my memory?”

His expression turned somber. “Then we’ll come up with a new plan.”

When their food arrived, she set her coffee aside. “I’d like to say grace.” When Doc nodded, she spoke softly, “Dear Lord Jesus, thank You for keeping us safe in Your loving arms. Please continue to guide us as we seek the truth. Amen.”

“Amen. And I hope God heals your memories too.” Doc’s response lightened her heart. Anything was possible for those who believed.

“Thanks.” They dug into their breakfast. She wasn’t looking forward to attending the race, but she was anxious to get back to the rental property.

Doc stopped at a big box store to get a laptop, then he swung back toward the drug store. The antibiotic was ready and waiting. Moments later, they were back on the road to the rental property.

“I think we need to dig into your background,” Doc said once they were settled inside the two-story house. He opened the laptop computer and plugged it in to charge the battery. “I know your mother passed away ten years ago, but there must be more information out there about you and your father that might help. I wish I had this last night.”

She felt sad knowing her mother was gone, but it wasn’t the deep grief arising from a memory. More like something that she’d feel for anyone who lost a loved one. “Why is my background important?” She didn’t see how digging into her personal life would shed any light on why a masked man would try to inject her in the hospital.

“We’ll never know until we check it out.” He glanced over the edge of the laptop. “Would you do me a favor and turn the news on? We might hear something interesting on the upcoming race.”

“Sure.” She crossed to the living room and found the remote. Finding a news station didn’t take long, but it took a few minutes for the anchor to cover the impending race.

“Any news on whether Savior’s Journey will run today?” the female announcer asked.

“Not yet, Jane,” her cohost replied. “But it sounds like the odds of the young colt winning the race have dropped significantly.”

“It’s all about betting.” Fiona sighed and shook her head. “I don’t understand why people throw their money away on that sort of thing.”

“That sort of thing is what has made your father a wealthy man,” Doc drawled.

“Yeah. I guess.” She turned away, wondering again if her father was involved in something nefarious. Dropping into the chair beside Doc, she craned her neck to see the screen. “Find anything?”

“Not yet.” His fingers flew across the keyboard as he entered a search command. A moment later, several hits bloomed on the screen.

The top hit gave her a jolt. Fiona Murphy Ends Engagement.

“Wait.” She grabbed Doc’s arm. “I was engaged to be married?” The possibility had never occurred to her.