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  Jerry had found several people who remembered his college years He’d been an outstanding pitcher until his right wrist was injured Teammates remembered an insular man, one who was always civil but who, unlike the others, never shared confidences. He’d been a loner even then; no one remembered him sharing in after-game celebrations, and he seldom even drank a beer. He had been a good student, though, and his grades were excellent.

  No one knew anything about a family. All attempts to find any family member failed. There was no birth certificate on file, no next of kin listed anywhere except his wife when he’d been married

  The beginning of a portrait was being drawn. The outline was there but no definition. Shadows without substance.

  Much of her time—that not spent on the firm’s legal research—was spent on understanding amnesia But that, too, was like capturing shadows. The one thing everyone agreed upon was that no amnesia case was like another. The doctors could state absolutely that Murphy suffered contusions of both the frontal and occipital areas of his skull, but the memory parts of the brain were still a mystery to researchers. Each amnesia victim was different. Some lost total memory, including the ability to speak and walk; some lost only years. Some victims retained skills; some did not. No one could predict whether memory would return.

  Although Dr. Dailey believed Murphy suffered from amnesia, testing showed that his thought processes were not impaired He could solve intricate puzzles rapidly though he had no idea how he did it

  Finally, she felt she was ready to meet with Dan. After receiving a release from Ryan, Dr. Dailey and two other doctors were willing to discuss his medical condition. Armed with their statements, prison records, inconsistencies in the crime reports and other information, she made an appointment to discuss Murphy’s case. If Dan would drop his opposition to Murphy’s parole, they might very well have a good shot at it.

  Dan listened patiently as the doctors discussed Murphy. He leaned forward as Dr. Dailey finished. “Could he be faking amnesia?”

  “I doubt it,” the doctor said. “Murphy couldn’t have known he would receive a head injury. And he was without memory from the instant he woke from a coma. He wouldn’t have had time to concoct such an elaborate ruse, much less keep it up through the excruciating pain he suffered in the days following his emergence from a coma.” He shrugged “It’s not impossible, but I would say it was most unlikely.”

  The other two physicians agreed, although Dr. Edwards hedged more than his colleague.

  “What would he have to gain?” Dr Dailey asked.

  “A parole. Maybe transfer to a mental institution which could be less restrictive,” Dan replied quickly. “Convicts can be extremely cunning when their freedom is at stake. ‘The devil made me do it’ is one of their favorites,” he said sarcastically. “Multiple personalities is another favorite tactic I’m not sure whether amnesia has been used recently, but you know by his records that Murphy is certainly clever enough to plan something like this.”

  “I don’t think you can fake the bewilderment I’ve seen in him,” the doctor said. “The struggle to remember no matter the cost”

  “You say it could completely change his personality?” Dan asked, his interest piqued now.

  “It has, if what I’ve read of his past is true,” Dr. Dailey said. “All the psychological evaluations I’ve read on him say he’s a natural leader who refused to lead—in essence, a loner. This Murphy is quiet, grateful for any help in finding information about himself, cooperative, although he is naturally cautious, considering the situation he’s in.”

  Dan looked thoughtful.

  Julie leaped on that moment. “And don’t forget he did risk his life to save my son and myself ”

  “That was the old Murphy,” Dan said sardonically. “If his personality has changed, then this Murphy had nothing to do with the rescue, just as he didn’t have anything to do with the crime. You can’t have it both ways.”

  “Both of them are worth saving then,” she said. “And you know you had doubts about his guilt ”

  “That was before he confessed,” Dan shot back.

  “I’ve read the reports. You never would have convicted him if he hadn’t.”

  “Whoever said criminals were smart?”

  “Ryan Murphy apparently was Tell me you never wondered about it.”

  The doctors and Jerry were listening to the exchange with interest

  “Please, Dan. Just go down and talk to him.”

  He sighed. “I’ve already filed our response.”

  “You can amend it. Say you received new information.”

  He sat forward in his chair and built a temple with his fingers. “I’ll be crucified in the press,” he finally said. “Letting a cop killer go.”

  “He’s a hero now.”

  “For one week. Good story. Convict saving child. But letting him back on the streets? That’s a different story.”

  “Don’t promise anything. Just talk to him.”

  “Now 1 know why I hated letting you leave my office,” he groaned. “You were the best I had in persuading a jury.”

  “Too good,” she said dryly.

  His eyes met hers. “Don’t let the Corrigan case get confused with this one,” he said. “Twelve people reached the same conclusion as you and I had.”

  “We still sent an innocent man to prison.”

  “Corrigan never confessed. Murphy did We aren’t dealing with an innocent man here.”

  “But he is a different man.”

  She held her breath.

  “I’ll talk to him,” he finally said. “But even if I decide not to oppose the parole—and I said’ if’—the parole board might turn him down anyway”

  “I know But it will help.”

  He stood, ending the conversation. He shook hands with the doctors and walked them to the door. Then he leaned against the desk and eyed Jerry, who’d accompanied her because he now knew a great deal about Murphy’s background. “What do you think, Jerry?”

  “You know me I don’t think one way or another when I’m on a case. It muddies my thinking. Besides, I haven’t seen him”

  Julie turned to Dan. “When will you go?”

  “Day after tomorrow. I have appointments tomorrow. Hell, I have appointments all week.”

  “Can I go with you?” Another favor. And she would have to ask still another of Emily. She was going to owe Emily, Dan and Jerry a great deal when all was said and done.

  Dan looked as if he was going to refuse, then he shook his head in defeat. “If I said no, you would go anyway, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m his attorney.”

  “Don’t keep reminding me ”

  She reached out for his hand. She was elated, but for some reason she also felt like crying. She’d wanted this so badly. She hadn’t realized until this moment how emotionally involved she was The worst possible thing for a client. And, she mentally amended, for the lawyer. As Jerry said, it muddied the brain.

  Julie heard Dan muttering to himself as they waited in a small, windowless interview room for Ryan Murphy. The room’s furnishings were minimal. a scuffed table and two chairs. He’d asked for a third to be brought in

  Julie stood silently as they waited for Murphy to be brought in. As Murphy’s attorney, she’d insisted on being present, but Dan had asked her to let him conduct the interview his way. Since she wanted his help, she hadn’t protested

  She watched as Dan stationed himself so he could see Murphy’s face the moment he entered the room. He had asked the assistant warden not to inform Murphy about the identity of his visitor. He obviously wanted to see the prisoner’s face the moment Ryan saw him.

  The door opened, and a handcuffed Murphy entered, followed by a guard. Julie saw his gaze sweep the room, register the presence of Dan indifferently, then move on, lingering on her and they seemed to come alive Then a strangely flat expression replaced that brightness as his gaze moved away from Julie back toward Dan. She did not see even a flicker
of recognition.

  Dan nodded to the guard “You can wait outside ”

  The guard nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

  Murphy stood silently, his eyes watchful but curious.

  “Do you know who I am?” Dan asked.

  “No.”

  “Sit down.”

  Murphy sat, his gaze remaining steadily on Dan’s face as if he were searching for something. Other than that one look of recognition toward Julie, who remained unobtrusively in a corner, he’d turned all his attention toward Dan.

  “I’m Dan Watters ”

  “The district attorney,” Murphy said flatly. “I read the stones about my conviction.”

  Julie noted a flicker of uncertainty in Dan’s eyes. He’d evidently expected Murphy to deny any knowledge of him “Mrs. Farrell asked me to see you.”

  Murphy cut his eyes toward her, then back Julie was aware of the current between the two of them, a subtle awareness that didn’t seem to need words. She hoped Dan wasn’t also aware of it. From the frown on his face, he was.

  That might have been why he posed the next question. “She saw your wife, your ex-wife ”

  Murphy didn’t blink, just waited.

  “Don’t you want to know how she is?” Dan asked after a moment’s silence.

  Something flickered in Murphy’s eyes again. A muscle in his cheek jerked. Then he looked up. “What do you want?”

  “Julie asked me to see you.”

  Murphy’s eyes again cut toward her. “I asked her to leave it alone,” he said roughly. “She doesn’t owe me a damn thing.” Murphy’s eyes glittered, but there was no arrogance in his statement, no bravado, only a raw anguish he tried to hide under anger He wasn’t successful.

  “No,” Dan agreed “She doesn’t.”

  Murphy started to rise as if to leave.

  “Castilani,” Dan said

  Murphy turned, his eyes puzzled. “What?”

  “Castilani,” Dan repeated and watched Murphy’s face It was absolutely blank

  “That was the last case you were working on,” Dan said after a moment “You were trying to make a case against a man named Castilani. We worked together on it.”

  “Ten years ago? Why would I remember that?”

  Julie wondered too. But Dan’s face was impassive. “He’s all yours, counselor” Dan paused, then added, “Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have her representing you?”

  “Strange,” Murphy said quietly as he looked toward Julie. “I don’t feel lucky.” A muscle flexed in his cheek. “And I thought I’d fired Mrs. Farrell.”

  Julie saw Dan’s face soften slightly, and she looked back at Murphy. She wondered whether Dan saw what she did. She knew he’d been searching for insincerity, cunning, manipulation. But there was none, only determination m those calm, blue eyes. Despite the handcuffs encasing his wrists, dignity and control were reflected by the rigid set of his shoulders, the almost indecipherable working of a cheek muscle.

  Dan looked toward Julie. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “I’ll wait outside,” he said.

  As the door closed, Julie prepared for a battle of a far different kind than she’d expected

  Chapter 7

  Ryan tried to tamp the rush of pleasure that filled him at seeing Julie. He had no right to feel anything He’d been telling himself that during the time he’d been here.

  Perhaps he had grown used to prison before the.. injury. He didn’t know how anyone could grow used to it, even in the limited experience of his current life. But he must have. He had to have in order to survive. He’d done it once He could do it again.

  But he had to steel himself not to feel Not to care. Not to hope. Hope was a luxury he couldn’t afford Imagining a different life, like those he’d seen on television, was fruitless. He knew only this one bars and guards and the thousand humiliations of being regarded as little more than an animal in a cage. And perhaps that was all he was. All he had ever been.

  He wanted to remember. And he didn’t Could he face the murderer everyone said he was? Could he face the crooked cop, the man who dealt drugs? Could he face the man who had turned away from a wife and child?

  But despite all these questions and doubts, deep inside he yearned for answers. He envied others who knew who and what they were. He even envied the other prisoners who had pictures on their cell walls. He was a question mark. A conundrum. He knew only what others told him, and he didn’t feel like the person they described. He couldn’t imagine himself doing what others said he had done.

  He endured. One day after another. His one escape was books—the cart came by his cell twice a week. But he could have only one book, and that he read in one day. He paced, exercised his weakened muscles and tried to remember. Despite everything he knew about himself, the void stretched endlessly, no beginning, no end

  Who was he? What was he? Were his reactions today what they would have been six months ago? The questions were endless. Maddemng.

  And only Julie Farrell brought any light into that bewildering emptiness.

  He ached to move to her, to touch her, to feel himself being touched. He found himself yearning for something he didn’t know or understand.

  But she put a briefcase down on the table and sat, her gaze moving toward her hands which were unsnapping a buckle, then opening the case and taking out papers.

  She looked up. “Your arm is out of the cast.”

  He glanced down at his handcuffed wrists. The cast had been taken off two days ago and his arm ached at being held at this particular angle. “Yes,” he replied simply.

  “Are they giving you any help with your memory?”

  “The psychologist? He’s convinced I haven’t lost it.”

  “I think you convinced Dan Watters.”

  “I think you should forget it,” he said.

  “Do you like it here so much?”

  He looked at her steadily. “I’ve obviously hurt a lot of people. I don’t want to include you among them.”

  “Why should I be among them?”

  “I can’t pay you anything. You have a child to support.”

  “I wouldn’t, if you hadn’t risked your life.”

  “I told you...you don’t owe me anything. It was the other Murphy that pulled you out and he probably had his own motives for doing it.”

  “Is this Murphy giving up? I don’t think the other one would ”

  “He did when he pleaded guilty. He must have been guilty. I’m trying to live with that.” And with the loneliness that accompanied the knowledge.

  “I’m not so sure he was guilty,” she said.

  His heart seemed to stop. Breath caught in his throat. He stared at her, barely comprehending her words Not guilty.

  For the first time, he felt a seed of hope. But he held it within him

  “I confessed,” he said.

  “And you didn’t have to. They didn’t have enough evidence to convict you.”

  “My conscience?”

  She smiled “Murderers and drug dealers don’t have consciences.”

  “Then why?”

  “That’s the big question Even if you did do it, why would you confess? You were a detective. You had to know they didn’t have enough to convict Even your wife..” She stopped suddenly.

  He couldn’t stop the surge of curiosity. “Tell me about her”

  “She’s very attractive. Light brown hair. Hazel eyes She’s a teacher.”

  “The..child?”

  “Your daughter?”

  He nodded. “Did you see her?”

  “No. She was out. A play rehearsal.”

  He wanted to ask more But instead he looked down at the scarred table.

  “It seems a happy home,” she said gently.

  “I should feel something, dammit.” His hands slammed the table m frustration “But there’s nothing. Nothing, It’s like talking about strangers.” He wanted memories. Good. Bad. Something. Anything

  He stood, unabl
e to sit any longer. He paced, unable to do anything else. He felt trapped by his own mind.

  He couldn’t even know what he wanted because he had no knowledge of what to expect, what would make him feel something other than this total isolation. He always felt as if something was tightening around his heart, but he didn’t know what would relieve it. He hated his cell. He hated being in a box, but at the same time he couldn’t even imagine what something else would be like Perhaps he would hate freedom, too Choices How did one even go about making them?

  “Ryan?”

  He looked down at her as she said his given name It was the first time he had heard it from someone’s lips It had always been “Murphy.”

  And suddenly, he did want something He wanted to hear her voice say his name again in that same soft way. He wanted her to stay. He wanted it so badly that it took every ounce of strength he had to meet her eyes, to stand casually as if she were a stranger. And he wanted his freedom to discover himself But he liked her too much to destroy her, and apparently he’d spent his life destroying people.

  “I think we have a chance at getting you paroled,” she finally said. “Your prison record is unblemished, and you saved the lives of two people at the risk of your own.”

  Stunned, he sat on the corner of the table.

  “I don’t want to get your hopes up,” she added cautiously. “But we do have a shot at it if the district attorney doesn’t oppose it. I don’t think he will.”

  “Why?” he said, not quite ready to accept the words. Parole. He wasn’t sure exactly what it would mean.

  “Several reasons,” she said, avoiding a direct answer.

  “I don’t think he believed me.” He shrugged. “No one does ”

  “I do.”

  Her gray eyes were lovely He’d remembered them as peaceful, but now they appeared more turbulent, almost smoky with determination, even a kind of passion. Raw need kicked him in the stomach He longed to reach out his hand to her, but he couldn’t. He was a convict. She was his lawyer Touching was impossible even if his wrists weren’t still locked together with handcuffs. Caution—or was it honor—was stronger than steel.