Rita Herron - Her Eyewitness.pdf

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Her Eyewitness
by
Unknown
SILHOUETTE INTRIGUE
 
Dear Reader,
I have been a mystery lover since I began reading mysteries at age twelve,
and a lover of romance since I first picked up a Silhouette novel.
Discovering Intrigue" combined the best of both worlds. I'm excited to be
writing for this line.
One day, I saw a clip on TV about a man who'd had a corneal transplant. The
wheels of my imagination started turning and I thought: What if the man who
donated his eyes had been murdered, and what if the man who received his eyes
actually saw visions of the murder, and what if the wife of the man who'd
donated his eyes was accused of the murder. Then I began to wonder if there
was any possible scientific way this could happen. My husband is a
veterinarian by profession and has worked with pharmaceutical research for
years. Advances in medicine are mind-boggling, so with his ingenious help I
came up with the theory for Her Eyewitness.
I hope you fall in love with Collin Cash and are as intrigued by this premise
as I was. I'd love to hear from you, so please write me at P. O. Box
921225, Norcross, GA 30010-1225 USA.
Sincerley,
T^ita
 
Special thanks to Debra Matteuci and Natashya Wilson for their enthusiasm
over this premise. To My wonderful husband. Lee, for his ingenious theory
and for helping me blend fact with fiction and to my cousin and childhood
playmate, Sheila Samples, who has undergone three corneal transplants and
willingly shared her experiences with me.
 
Prologue
"Hurry up, Doctor," Collin Cash muttered impatiently, "remove these bandages.
I'm ready to see again." The dark office seemed totally oppressive, filled
with the scents of medicine and antiseptics. Smells that Collin had learned
to hate over the past year. He was so nervous he could hear his own
breathing rattle through the empty room. The past twelve months had been
hell. First the shooting. Then the surgery. Then he'd awakened to a world
of darkness. A world where he'd gone from being a fearless cop to a man full
of fear.
He balled his hands into fists. A man who trusted no one, he'd been forced
to accept help from strangers. To admit weakness, to admit he needed people.
The fear that he might always be dependent on others had been pure torture.
Weeks of recovery and tests had dragged into months as he'd waited for the
scar tissue to heal so he could have the co meal transplant. Then he'd
finally gotten lucky.
Someone had died and donated their eyes.
A moment of sorrow and guilt attacked him. He shouldn't use the word lucky.
He wouldn't be getting his sight back if someone hadn't given up their life.
Finally the door creaked open. Footsteps clicked on the floor. He
recognized the sound of Dr. Darber's hard-soled shoes.
"How are you doing, Mr. Cash? Feeling all right?" Darber asked with his
faint Northern accent.
"No headaches, dizziness, nausea?"
"I feel fine," Collin said.
"A little anxious, maybe."
Darber chuckled.
"Most of my patients feel that way." Collin heard the clink of metal as
Darber worked.
"Are you ready?"
Collin nodded, finally gaining the courage to voice his fear.
"Will I be able to see right away?"
"Providing you haven't rejected the new corneas, yes," Darber said, clipping
the bandages.
"Although, at some point you may need glasses."
What if the transplant hadn't worked? Or what if he could see for a while,
then his body rejected the corneas and he had to face blindness again? Could
he handle the darkness forever?
"Remember what we discussed," Darber cautioned.
"You could reject one or both of the corneas at any time. If you have
headaches, blurred vision, double vision, any of the other symptoms I
 
described earlier, call me right away."
Collin agreed, his breath tight in his chest as Darber unwound the bandages.
"Patients vary at how well they see immediately after the operation.
First, you'll probably detect some light- shades of white and gray.
Things will be blurry. Remember, the muscles in your eyes and the nerve
cells going to your brain haven't worked in quite some time.
They need retraining. "
"One year, one month and eleven days." Collin exhaled loudly. The longest
damn year of his life.
"It's important you take the drug I've prescribed. It's still experimental,
but it should lower your chances of rejection. And don't forget to use the
eye drops Dark sunglasses will help in the sunlight, and you can wear the
mesh patch I'll give you for a few days. You can see through it, but it'll
protect your eyes while you heal."
"Fine, as long as I don't have to use that damned cane."
"Be patient. We have every reason to believe the corneas are a good match."
Darber's cold fingers touched his forehead.
"Remember, your eyes and the surrounding areas will look red, puffy and
swollen. Your eyes will be bloodshot at first, but that should pass in a
couple of weeks."
Collin didn't care about his appearance. He just wanted to see again.
"Okay, now open your eyes slowly."
Collin's breath whooshed out. He slowly lifted his lids. A sliver at a
time. Fear knotted his stomach. What if. Think positive. He was going to
see again. The worst was over.
He opened his eyes a little more. A small white spot appeared, a thread of
thin light. He blinked, squinting when the light's impact hurt his eyes.
The light grew bigger.
"You're doing fine. Let it come back to you slowly."
The door squeaked open again. Darber's lab coat brushed his arm as he turned.
"I need to talk to you, Doctor."
In spite of the tension, Collin smiled at the woman's soft Southern drawl.
It would be nice to look at a pretty woman again. He loved the South. He'd
been born in Charleston, South Carolina. Would probably die there. Had
almost died there this past year.
"I'm busy right now," Darber replied tersely.
"Go wait in my office."
"Who was that?" Collin squinted, hoping he could see the woman. Her face
registered in his vision, fuzzy and distorted, then faded into a blur as she
 

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