What She Forgot

by Amanda Stevens

  A tear trickled down Andrea’s cheek, and she hastily wiped it away with the back of her hand. She hadn’t even known until recently that her mother was still alive. Andrea had assumed her dead all these years, even though her aunt had always referred to her as “away.” Why else would her mother never have called or written? Now Andrea knew the truth.

  “Would you like to go in and see her?” Dr. Albrecht, the physician who ran Oak Haven, asked softly.

  Andrea hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

  “It’s perfectly safe, you know. She won’t harm you.”

  “It’s not that…I’m not frightened for my safety.”

  “I understand.” He gazed at her kindly through his wire-rimmed glasses. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  Andrea’s throat tightened. “I didn’t even remember her until recently. I didn’t remember…what had happened.” What she’d done.

  “I’ve often wondered about her family.” Dr. Albrecht stroked his chin thoughtfully. “In the twenty years she’s been here, she’s only had one visitor. Her sister came shortly after Julia was admitted.”

  “Aunt Clarice came here?”

  “She explained to me that she had taken in her sister’s child, and she wanted to make sure Julia’s illness wasn’t hereditary.”

  Andrea swallowed. “What did you tell her?”

  The kindly eyes gazed down at her. “I told her it wasn’t. Julia’s illness is rare, one in a million. A brain malfunction that causes violent behavior during seizures. Her condition is treatable but not curable. I’m afraid she’ll never be able to leave Oak Haven.” He paused for a moment, letting Andrea digest everything he’d told her. “Would you like to go in now?”

  Andrea nodded. Her heart pounded as Dr. Albrecht opened the door and she followed him inside. Her mother was sitting in a chair by the window, gazing out. She turned and her blue eyes—eyes so like Andrea’s—lit with pleasure when she saw the doctor.

  “I’ve been waiting and waiting,” she said in a breathless voice.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Dr. Albrecht said cheerfully. “But I’ve brought you a visitor. This is Andrea.”

  Reluctantly Andrea stepped forward, and Julia clapped her hands excitedly. “She’s come to see me? Just me?“

  “Just you,” Dr. Albrecht said. “I’m going to leave you two alone now, okay?”

  Julia nodded eagerly and got up from her chair. She came toward Andrea, and Andrea had to resist the urge to retreat, to turn and follow Dr. Albrecht outside. Her heart beat so painfully against her chest, she felt dizzy.

  “How long can you play?” Julia asked anxiously.

  “I…beg your pardon?”

  “Would you like to have a tea party? Everything’s ready. See?” She pointed to a corner of the room where a small wooden table had been set with a toy tea service. “Come on,” she urged, reaching for Andrea’s hand.

  In spite of herself, Andrea drew back. She wasn’t yet ready for physical contact with her mother. She wasn’t sure she ever would be.

  “What’s the matter?” Julia pouted. “You don’t like tea?”

  “I—I love tea,” Andrea stammered. “Why don’t you pour me a cup?”

  While Julia went off to pour the imaginary tea, Andrea gazed around the room. She’d been too nervous to notice before, but now she took in the stuffed animals on the single bed, the collection of dolls on the wooden dresser, the stack of board games in the corner. By all indications, Julia Evans had reverted back to her childhood.

  She crossed the room and carefully handed Andrea the plastic cup and saucer, then waited impatiently until Andrea lifted the cup and tasted the “tea.”

  “It’s very good,” Andrea said, and Julia beamed. In spite of her illness and her confinement, the years had actually been kind to Andrea’s mother. She was still quite lovely, with short, silky blond hair, wide blue eyes and a smooth, ivory complexion. She wore jeans and a bright blue T-shirt that made her seem young and innocent. To look at her, one would never guess what she had done. She was so happy and cheerful, so eager to please. She wasn’t at all like the woman Andrea remembered.

  This time, when Julia reached for her hand, Andrea let her take it and lead her across the room to the table.

  * * *

  OAK HAVEN HOSPITAL was located north of the city in a little bedroom community that had sprung up around a handful of high-tech firms opting out of the city. Troy had driven up right after he’d spoken with Leanne, and then with Lieutenant Lucas. After he’d met with the lieutenant, Troy knew it was imperative that he talk to Julia Evans’s doctor. The similarities between the murder of Andrea’s father and Richard Malone’s death couldn’t be ignored, no matter how much he might wish to.

  Julia Evans had viciously murdered her husband in a fit of uncontrollable rage. But at the time of her arrest, she claimed she could remember nothing of the attack. She went completely off the deep end and had to be confined to a private psychiatric hospital rather than be sent to prison or to the electric chair.

  Twenty years later, Andrea’s husband had been brutally murdered, and Andrea had been found with blood all over her clothing. Troy had learned this morning that the preliminary DNA testing proved conclusively the blood was Richard’s. Yet like her mother, Andrea could remember nothing.

  Or could she?

  Troy had long suspected that Andrea remembered more than she’d told him. Question was, what was she hiding? And why?

  As he pulled into the tree-shaded driveway of the hospital and showed his ID to the guard at the gatehouse, a chill of unease descended over him. Could Andrea be completely faking her amnesia? Had she followed her mother’s example to keep from going to prison?

  Was she capable of murder?

  He thought about the woman he’d held in his arms last night. The woman who had enthralled him with her beauty. Her passion. Her mystery. He’d fallen in love with that woman, but he really didn’t know her. He didn’t know what she was capable of.

  His unease continued to mount as he entered the hospital and spoke with a nurse at the front desk. He told her who he was, what he wanted, and she got on the phone to summon a Dr. Thomas Albrecht. A few moments later, Troy was ushered into Dr. Albrecht’s office by a young woman who offered him coffee, which he declined.

  Dr. Albrecht stood when Troy entered his office and reached across his desk to shake hands. “How may I help you, Sergeant Stoner?”

  “I’m investigating a homicide which, in a roundabout way, involves one of your patients. Julia Evans.”

  Dr. Albrecht’s brows lifted in surprise. “Julia Evans hasn’t left these premises in twenty years, Sergeant.”

  “I realize that. It’s her daughter, Andrea Evans Malone, I’m interested in.”

  “I see,” was Dr. Albrecht’s only comment, but something indefinable glimmered in his eyes.

  “I’ve studied Julia Evans’s file,” Troy said. “According to the records, you were appointed by the court to give her a psychiatric evaluation. You testified at the trial that extensive testing had revealed an abnormality in Julia’s brain which caused seizures, and that her violent behavior the night she murdered her husband was due to one of those seizures.”

  “That’s correct,” Dr. Albrecht said. “Her condition is rare. I’ve only heard of one other case similar to hers in all the years I’ve been a doctor.” He steepled his fingers under his chin and regarded Troy thoughtfully. “The homicide you spoke of involving Julia’s daughter. Can you tell me about it?”

  “Her husband, Richard Malone, was murdered a week ago last Sunday night. Andrea was found wandering down a busy street that same night with blood all over her clothing. She didn’t know who the blood belonged to or how it had gotten on her dress. She remembered nothing about her life, her past. She couldn’t even remember her own name.”

  Dr. Albrecht’s brows rose again. “Fascinating.”

  “At the time of her arrest, Julia Evans claimed she had amnesia,” Troy said.


  “Not amnesia,” Dr. Albrecht clarified quickly. “Hers was not the normal repression of a traumatic event. Not even hypnosis or sodium Pentothal could help her remember, because the memories simply weren’t there. Her brain had stored nothing of the savage attack on her husband.”

  “Which brings me to the reason why I’m here,” Troy said. “Is there a chance Julia Evans’s daughter could have inherited her…condition?”

  “There is not.”

  “You sound pretty sure of that.”

  “I’m absolutely positive. Julia’s illness is not hereditary. In fact, I suspect she sustained a severe brain trauma, perhaps as a child, that caused the abnormality, and hence the seizures.”

  Relief flooded through Troy, though he tried his damnedest not to show it. He was just a cop investigating a homicide. The fact that Andrea was the chief suspect couldn’t be allowed to matter.

  But, of course, it did. He was only human, after all.

  “I think you can see why the similarities in the two cases would concern me,” Troy said. “The violent nature of the murders and the loss of memory in both mother and daughter.”

  “You say Andrea claims to remember nothing of her life?” Dr. Albrecht picked up a pen from his desk and examined the tip, a casual movement, but something in his tone alerted Troy.

  “That’s what she claims, yes. Do you have reason to believe otherwise?”

  Dr. Albrecht hesitated. He set the pen aside and glanced up at Troy. “It might interest you to know, Sergeant Stoner, that I saw Andrea not more than fifteen minutes ago. She came here to see Julia.”

  The implication was not lost on Troy. If Andrea was suffering from amnesia, how did she know where to find her mother?

  * * *

  ANDREA LOOKED UP from Julia’s tea party and saw Troy watching her through the glass panel in the door. Her heart bumped against her chest, then settled back into its normal rhythm. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he had found her here. He was a cop, after all.

  She got up from the table, and Julia looked up at her in alarm. “You aren’t leaving, are you? We’re having so much fun.”

  “I know, but it’s time for me to go home.”

  “Okay, but will you come back to see me?” her mother asked hopefully.

  Andrea didn’t quite know how to respond. She wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to come back for another visit. She didn’t know what would happen to her when her memory came back in full.

  “I’ll try,” she promised.

  Dr. Albrecht opened the door, and Andrea stepped out into the hallway. He went inside Julia’s room, and Andrea and Troy stood silently for a moment. Then he took her arm and said, “Let’s go outside where we can talk. Dr. Albrecht said there’s a garden somewhere around here.”

  They found the garden near the rear of the hospital, enclosed in a wrought-iron fence shrouded with wisteria. They entered through the gate and sat down on a stone bench. The shaded garden was like a cool oasis, but the quiet was in direct contrast to the turmoil inside Andrea. Everything had happened so quickly. The memories had come so fast and furious, she’d hardly had time to think about what they all meant.

  And now Troy was staring at her with dark, accusing eyes. Eyes that demanded an explanation.

  Andrea couldn’t look at him. “I guess you know about my mother. About what happened…back then.”

  “I saw the file this morning.”

  She closed her eyes as the memories washed over her again. “After…it happened, I was sent to live with my aunt. I couldn’t remember anything about my mother and father except that something bad had happened to them. My aunt made it very clear that she didn’t want me, and I assumed it was because whatever had happened was my fault. So I didn’t try to remember. I found it much easier to forget.” Her emotions were still so near the surface, she had to guard against tears. But she wouldn’t let herself cry, no matter what. The last thing she wanted from Troy was his pity.

  “Your aunt didn’t talk to you about it?”

  Andrea shook her head. “Aunt Clarice avoided the subject. If I asked her questions, she would always tell me I was better off not knowing, that I was lucky I couldn’t remember. All I knew was that…I was different from the other kids. I never fit in because of something that had happened to me. And because I couldn’t remember.”

  A breeze drifted through the garden, chilling Andrea. She wrapped her arms around herself as she gazed at the trickle of water from the fountain. “Last year, after Aunt Clarice died, I decided to move back to Houston. I’m not sure why. It was just something I was…compelled to do. I got a job teaching in a private school, and then a mutual friend introduced me to Christina Malone. She hired me as Mayela’s nanny. The pay was excellent, and I thought it would be nice to live in a real home. I’d never had one….” Andrea trailed off, realizing that maybe she was trying to play on Troy’s sympathy after all. A little comfort might not be so bad right now.

  She wished he’d put his arms around her and hold her close while she told him the rest of her story. But unfortunately he seemed to have formed an opinion about her already. She hadn’t told him the complete truth, and now he didn’t trust her. Andrea couldn’t blame him, but the distance between them hurt just the same. Especially after last night.

  “Go on,” Troy prompted

  She took a deep breath and released it. “By the time I came to live with the Malones, Christina was already suffering from depression, and Richard was wrapped up in his business. He was rarely home. I knew Mayela needed me, and that made me feel good. Made me feel needed. I was happy for a while, but after Christina’s death, I started having dreams…these flashes of memory that were just enough to make me start wondering about my past. I think Christina’s death and my bond with Mayela somehow triggered the memories. Mayela was the same age I was when…I lost my father.”

  “Is that why you started seeing Dr. Bennett?”

  Andrea nodded. “She used hypnosis to unleash the memories. I remembered more and more with each session. She’s the one who found out where my mother was. That Sunday evening Richard was killed, I remembered something…important. Something I had to see Dr. Bennett about.”

  “You went to see Dr. Bennett that night?”

  Andrea frowned. She’d been going to see Dr. Bennett when she’d left the Perelli home. It had been a matter of urgency. But…why? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even remember if she’d seen Dr. Bennett or not.

  “What is it?” Troy asked.

  “I don’t remember now what I was going to see her about.”

  “But you do remember seeing her that night?”

  Andrea shook her head. “I remember the storm. I remember leaving the house. I remember seeing Mayela. But then…nothing. It’s as if everything stopped for me then.”

  “You remember everything else about your life except for what happened to you that night after you left the Perelli home?”

  His tone sounded skeptical. Andrea supposed she could hardly blame him, but it hurt just the same that he didn’t believe her.

  He paused, then said, “How much of what you’ve just told me did you remember before you came to my apartment last night?”

  “I remembered quite a bit,” she admitted softly. “I’d been having these terrible visions…flashes of memory, I guess, but I didn’t put it all together until later, until after we…made love.”

  “That’s why you ran out on me?”

  She nodded.

  He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Damn it, I asked you point-blank last night if there was anything you hadn’t told me. I asked you if you were holding out on me. Do you remember?”

  Andrea moistened her lips. “I remember.”

  “You lied to me. You deliberately deceived me.”

  He turned to her then, his gaze unfathomable. But Andrea knew there were suspicions lurking in those dark depths. She knew there was distrust. She remembered the woman Madison had told her about, the murder sus
pect who had duped Troy into believing her. He’d been hurt badly by that woman, and now Andrea had done the same thing to him. She wished she could go back and start all over, tell him from the very first about the awful visions and dreams she’d had, and her fears and suspicions about herself. She wished she hadn’t been so self-protective.

  But it was too late now.

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t remember everything,” she said desperately. “I was getting all those memories from my past mixed up with what happened to Richard. Everything I remembered…made me look guilty.”

  “I see.” There was an edge to his words that made Andrea flinch. “You used me.”

  “No! At least, not intentionally,” she said softly.

  He turned to stare at her, and Andrea’s heart plummeted at the expression on his face. “Then what would you call it? You knew how I felt about you. You knew if we became involved, if we became lovers, I’d do anything in my power to help you. Are you telling me you didn’t count on that all along?”

  She shook her head, tears smarting behind her lids. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “But how can I believe you, Andrea? First you tell me you remember nothing, then I find you here with a mother you haven’t seen in twenty years. Now you tell me you don’t remember what happened the night Richard died, but you remember everything else. Tell me, Andrea. Just what in hell am I suppose to believe?”

  She bowed her head. “I wanted to confide in you from the first. You don’t know how badly. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t just me I had to worry about. I had to think of Mayela. If I’d been arrested, who would have taken care of her?”

  “That’s another thing,” he said grimly. “You were worried about Mayela even before I told you about Richard. You already knew he was dead, didn’t you?”