"Hi sweetie! Just give me the usual. How's it going tonight?" He answers. "It's going good. A slow night, I can always use one of those every now and then." I tell him as I'm getting his drink. So far, so good, no headache. I set his drink in front of him. "There you go! Enjoy."

"When are you going to go out with me?" He asks. "I told you, I'm not dating at all. I couldn't even handle a coffee date right now." I evade him yet again. He asks me out almost every time he comes in to have a drink. "When you do start to go out on dates again, don't forget about me." He smiles. I smile back, the start of a headache coming on. "I'll let you know." I'll be right back. I step in the back into the office and have a seat.

My boss comes in and asks, "He's here again?" I nod. "Do I need to have someone take over for you?" I shake my head, "I just need a minute. I'll be fine."

"Okay, just let me know." I nod. He leaves to give me a minute and the headache subsides some. I walk back out into the bar and asks Peter if he needs anything else. "I'm good for now." He says. I nod and walk up to the two guys talking on the other end of the bar. "Can I get you all anything else?" They both order cokes, and I get their drinks for them."

I walk back down to Peter to see if he needs anything else. We're making small talk, when he asks, "Did you see on the news where that house was blown up?" The headache starts at the back of my temples slowing moving forward and up. I shake my head no. "What happened?" I force out. "Someone threw a pipe bomb through the window." He says. He's looking at me closely. "Are you okay?" I nod, "I'll be back. I'm going to check on my other customers over there." I walk away before he can say anything else.

I walk over and talk to the guys asking them if I can hang with them for a few minutes. We talk and my headache starts to subside until I ask them what brings them out tonight. They explain to me that the blond one lost his wife and I ask how she died. He says the doctor's office that she went to, blew up. My headache comes back with a vengeance and I excuse myself walking back to the office. When I sit down this time, my boss takes one look at me and sends the replacement out to finish the shift.

He hands me a couple of ibuprofen and a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. I take both gratefully. I put my head back for a few minutes, then pull out my phone texting Agent Holmes letting him know that I'm going home and I need to talk to him when I get there. He texts me back he'll be there waiting for me.

I thank my boss before heading out to my car when someone grabs me. I twist around, sweeping my feet under their legs making them fall, then putting my foot on their neck. I look down and it's one of the guys that I was talking to in the bar. "What do you want?" I ask. "I would really like you to take your foot off of my neck. I just wanted to see if you were okay? You looked like your head was hurting a little bit ago, then the other bartender came out and took your place." He rasps out under my foot which is still planted on his neck.

I move my foot from his neck and help him get up, "I'm sorry. In my line of work you always have to be prepared. You never know what idiot is trying to wait outside for you."

"No. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sneaked up on you like that." He says rubbing his neck. "I have to say, that I'm glad that you can take care of yourself. Excellent move."

"Thank you very much." I tell him. "I'm fine. I have a headache and I need to go home, so thanks." I reach for my car door. "I hope you feel better. I'm Samson by the way and the guy who was with me in the bar, is Brock." He holds out his hand and I shake it. "It's nice to meet you." I tell him. "Here's my card. If you need anything, call me." He hands me a card and I give it a small glance before putting it in my pocket. "Thanks, I'll see you later." I tell him getting inside my car.

As soon as I'm buckled in and start my car, he walks away. I drive home and all I can think about is what the connection to him and my memory is. They've been tailing Peter for a while and he does nothing but go home, to work and out to eat or to the bar where I work. They did a background check and found nothing. I'm hoping something breaks soon, these headaches are killing me.

I get home and check on Mrs. Mayfield before going into my apartment. She's sitting in a chair half asleep while the television is watching her. Muffin, her gray cat is sitting on her lap purring. She looks at me and gives me a 'meow'. I smile and let myself out. I walk inside and Agent Holmes is sitting there waiting for me. "Did something new happen tonight?" He asks.

I nod, "There was a guy in there tonight getting a drink with his friend and he told me that he lost his wife in a bombing while at the doctor's office. When he said that, I immediately got a headache. There may be a connection."

Agent Holmes leans forward, "Did you get his name?"

"I did. His name is Samson. I remember because it's close to the name Sampson in the bible." I tell him. "Did he tell you anything else about himself?" He asks. I shake my head, but remember the card he gave me at the car. "He met me at my car and after I took him down, he gave me his card and said that if I needed anything to give him a call." I pull the card out of my pocket and give it to him.

He takes it and laughs. "I got the video of you taking him down. I'm glad you listened in those classes. The guys got a kick out of it and sent it to everyone on our team. Good job." I smile then, "Thanks."

"This guy is a state trooper. We'll run a check and see what he does. You did a good job tonight. We may get something from this guy that will help." He tells me. "Do you want me to stay tonight? I can if you need me too. If not, the usual line-up will be outside."

"No. Go home to your wife. You spend so much time with me, you can at least spend the night with her. Thanks for offering." I answer.

He gets up to leave, "Goodnight. Sleep well. Remember if you need me, just call." He walks out the door and I lock it behind him. I take a warm shower and lay down contemplating my day. I hope this is another lead for them. I also want my memory to return. My Psychiatrist says that when the time is right, my memory will come back. I hope that she's right.


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