What She Forgot

by Amanda Stevens

  She wanted to deny it, but couldn’t. Somehow she had known.

  “Tell me something, Andrea.”

  She looked up at him.

  “Were you in love with Richard, or is that one of the things you can’t remember?”

  “I didn’t love him,” she said quietly. “I hardly knew him. I agreed to marry him so I would stand a better chance of retaining custody of Mayela when he died.”

  “You’re saying your marriage was a business arrangement?”

  “More or less. Richard was worried that Dorian might challenge my guardianship after he was gone. He thought if we were married, the courts would look more favorably on me.”

  “Did he offer you money?”

  Andrea wished with all her heart he hadn’t had to ask her that question. She wished he would have known her so well, trusted her enough by this time that the answer would have been apparent to him. She closed her eyes against the keen disappointment. “No,” she said. “He didn’t offer me money, and I wouldn’t have taken it if he had. Mayela was my only concern, and she still is. I love her like a daughter. The ten million dollars Richard left me was a complete surprise. I didn’t want anything.”

  “What about Paul Bellamy?”

  “What about him?”

  “Were you in love with him?”

  The breeze picked up, drawing another shiver from Andrea as she thought about Paul Bellamy. “I came to hate him,” she said. “When I first went to work for Christina and Richard, Paul became…interested in me. I went out with him a couple of times, but when I tried to break it off, he wouldn’t leave me alone. His behavior became…obsessive.”

  “You have that effect,” Troy said, gazing at her.

  Something in his eyes made Andrea’s heart beat even harder. “You don’t believe me. You don’t believe anything I’ve told you. You think I’m lying, don’t you?”

  “I think your instinct for survival runs pretty damn deep.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “Then what are you going to do?” Andrea asked fearfully.

  “What I have to do. I’m going to take you back to Houston.” He turned to her, his expression grim. “As of this morning, there’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

  “What?” Andrea stared at him in shock. “But I’m innocent!”

  He gazed at her as if she were a stranger. “Are you? How can you be so sure of your innocence? I didn’t think you could remember what happened the night Richard was killed.”

  Andrea tried to swallow past the panic that had risen to her throat. “I can’t. Not specifics. But I know I’m not a murderer. I couldn’t kill anyone. You have to know that, too, Troy. After last night, you have to know I’m not capable of murder.”

  He shook his head. “After last night, I’m not sure of anything. I’ve risked everything for you, and you’re still not even willing to tell me the truth.”

  “I have told you the truth,” Andrea cried. “Please, Troy. You have to believe me. I don’t remember what happened that night, but I know I didn’t kill Richard. If you take me in, what will happen to Mayela?”

  There was no warmth in his expression when he looked at her. Nothing that Andrea could hang on to for comfort when he said, “If I don’t take you in, I’m finished. My career is over. But maybe that’s what you’ve wanted all along. A botched investigation. Police misconduct. After last night, you could say I took advantage of you. Seduced you. There’s not a jury in the world that would convict you.”

  She looked at him in despair. “You don’t believe that of me. You can’t believe it.”

  “It really doesn’t matter what I believe anymore. I’m still a cop. There’s a warrant for your arrest, and I have to take you in. I don’t have a choice.”

  Andrea took a deep, shaky breath. A sudden calmness came over her. She knew what she had to do. “All right,” she said, standing. “I’ll go with you. But first, if it’s okay…I’d like to say goodbye to my mother. I may not be able to see her again for a very long time.”

  * * *

  TROY STATIONED HIMSELF by the front desk, waiting for Andrea to return. When ten minutes went by, he began to get a little uneasy. He walked down the hall to Julia Evans’s room and found Dr. Albrecht coming out.

  “Is Andrea still inside with her mother?”

  Dr. Albrecht looked at him, perplexed. “Andrea? She left with you half an hour ago.”

  “But she came back in,” Troy said. “She wanted to say goodbye to her mother.”

  “I’ve been with Julia ever since the two of you left,” Dr. Albrecht told him. “Andrea never came back.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Andrea was back in Houston before she realized her escape had been just a little too easy. Troy was a seasoned cop. No way she could have gotten away from him unless he’d allowed her to. He’d deliberately given her enough rope to hang herself, and she’d fallen for it. Why would she run if she wasn’t guilty?

  Andrea groaned inwardly. If Troy hadn’t been convinced of her guilt before, he surely was now. Maybe the best thing to do was just to keep going, she thought. She could go somewhere far away, where her past wouldn’t matter. She could pretend the memories hadn’t come back, that she was just a normal woman, leading a normal life, and maybe someday she might even meet someone else she could fall in love with.

  But there would never be anyone like Troy.

  She had hurt him deeply by not being honest with him, by not trusting him enough to confide in him, and the only thing she could do now was to honor what little trust he might still have in her by going to the police and turning herself in.

  But first there was something she had to do. Someone she had to see. No matter what anyone else thought, Andrea knew deep down she wasn’t a murderer. She hadn’t killed Richard, and there was only one way to prove it.

  She had to remember.

  By the time Andrea pulled up in front of Dr. Bennett’s house, dusk had fallen. There was a light on upstairs, but the downstairs was completely dark. Andrea wondered if Dr. Bennett had retired for the evening, but it was only a little after seven. Surely she wouldn’t mind being disturbed. Not for something this important.

  Andrea climbed the porch steps and rang the bell. Several minutes went by before she finally heard footsteps inside, and then Dr. Bennett opened the door and stared at Andrea in surprise.

  “I’m sorry to bother you like this,” Andrea said. “But I really need to see you, Dr. Bennett. Something’s happened.”

  Dr. Bennett didn’t say a word. She drew back the door, and Andrea stepped inside. The foyer was dark, except for a brief trail of light on the stairs. Andrea shivered, suddenly feeling apprehensive. Had she done the right thing by coming here?

  As Dr. Bennett led the way to her office, Andrea tried to get her bearings, remembering the other times she’d been in this house. Dr. Bennett’s office was at the end of a long hallway. Several rooms opened off the hallway, but the doors were always kept closed. Andrea had no idea what was behind any of them.

  Toward the end of the hallway, her steps slowed. A memory tugged at her. Something about this hallway…

  “Andrea?”

  Dr. Bennett’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. Andrea gazed down the hall, where the doctor stood in the doorway of her office, waiting. “Are you all right?”

  Andrea nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Dr. Bennett motioned her inside the office. “Shall we get started, then?”

  Andrea stepped inside the office and looked around. Something was different. “You’ve changed it,” she said. The walls had been painted, and the hardwood floor was covered with carpet.

  Dr. Bennett took a seat behind her desk. “I had to. A water pipe broke and flooded this end of the house. Everything had to be replaced.”

  Andrea glanced around at the pristine surroundings. She could smell the lingering scent of paint, and for some reason, the scent seemed ominous.

  “
Why are you here, Andrea?” Dr. Bennett asked softly. She picked up a pencil, ready to take notes.

  “I’ve got my memory back.”

  The pencil snapped in her fingers. “All of it?”

  “Most of it,” Andrea said. “I remember about…my mother…what she did to my father. I remember seeing…everything through the keyhole in the dark room. You helped me remember.”

  “The hypnosis helped you to remember,” Dr. Bennett said. “When the police told me you were suffering from amnesia again, I was afraid it would be a severe setback. All of our hard work undone. But you say now that you remember…everything?”

  Andrea drew a deep breath. “Everything except the night Richard was murdered.”

  Something flickered in Dr. Bennett’s eyes, and she looked down quickly, as if afraid of alarming her patient. “You came here to be hypnotized. Is that it?”

  “Yes.” Andrea sat forward in her chair. “It’s the only way I can prove I didn’t do it.”

  “Are you sure you want to take that risk?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dr. Bennett hesitated. “What if the hypnosis doesn’t prove your innocence?”

  Andrea swallowed. “You think I’m guilty, too, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. But you’re wrong, Dr. Bennett. All of you are wrong. I know I’m not capable of murder.”

  “Your mother was.”

  “I’m not my mother.”

  Dr. Bennett smiled faintly. “All right,” she said. “We’ll try the hypnosis. Do you remember the trigger?”

  Andrea nodded. After several sessions, when she had become adept at going under, Dr. Bennett had given Andrea a posthypnotic suggestion that when spoken, automatically triggered a hypnotic trance.

  “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable on the sofa?”

  Andrea did as she was told. Dr. Bennett pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “Are you feeling relaxed, Andrea?” Her voice was very soothing.

  “Starting to.”

  “Good. Think about the garden outside your bedroom when you were a child. Feel the sunshine on your face? Can you smell the roses?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a swing in the garden, isn’t there, Andrea?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s blowing in the breeze. Back and forth. Back and forth. A gentle motion. So soothing. Back and forth. Back and forth. Do you see it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your kitten in the garden with you, Andrea?”

  “Yes.” She could see him. A white fur ball that had been a present from her father. Andrea cherished him.

  “Do you remember his name?”

  “Snowflake.”

  “Pet him, Andrea. Stroke his soft fur.”

  Andrea grew very still. She slipped into the trance easily. She wasn’t asleep. She wasn’t dreaming. She was very much aware of Dr. Bennett’s benign voice, but everything else drifted away.

  “Andrea,” Dr. Bennett said, “I want you to go back to Sunday night, two weeks ago. Do you remember?”

  “Yes. I’m alone in the house. Dorian and Robert are both out, thank goodness. Mayela’s spending the night with a friend, and Richard’s already left for the airport. He said there was something he had to do before he caught his plane.”

  Andrea frowned as she walked through the huge house in her mind. She was all alone, and a storm was brewing outside. She grew frightened, not for herself but for Mayela.

  “What are you doing now, Andrea?”

  “I’m driving to the Perelli house,” Andrea said. “It’s raining so hard, I can hardly see, but Mayela will be frightened by the storm. I have to see her.”

  “You’re at the Perelli home. Is Mayela okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Andrea said, skipping ahead in her mind. She was standing in Lauren Perelli’s bedroom, and Mayela was hugging Andrea goodbye, clinging a bit when a clap of thunder sounded outside.

  “There’s somewhere you have to go, isn’t there?” Dr. Bennett said softly.

  “I have to see you,” Andrea said, as, in her mind, she dashed back out into the rain. Earlier, when she was home alone, she’d remembered something her aunt had once said, something about Andrea’s mother. Julia had fallen out of a tree as a child and had suffered a severe head injury. They hadn’t expected her to live, but somehow she’d pulled through, and it looked as though she’d made a full recovery until some months later when she had a terrible seizure.

  The memory was important because, after her sessions with Dr. Bennett, when Andrea had begun remembering her past, she’d been worried that she might have inherited her mother’s insanity. Dr. Bennett had even hinted that the predisposition toward violence was often hereditary. But if her mother’s problem was caused by an accident, Andrea had nothing to worry about. Still, she’d wanted to talk to Dr. Bennett about this revelation.

  “Where are you now, Andrea?”

  “At your front door. I’m wondering why you don’t answer my ring. The door is ajar, and I can hear voices inside. Loud voices. I think at first that you must be with a patient, and I start to leave, but then, someone starts shouting. A man. I recognize his voice.”

  The voices were coming from Dr. Bennett’s office. Andrea heard Richard shout her name, and thought at first he was calling to her. Then she realized, as she entered the house, that he was shouting to someone about her.

  Andrea started down the hallway toward Dr. Bennett’s office. She’d never heard Richard so upset. What in the world was he doing here?

  Andrea paused outside the door, wondering if she should go in.

  “Christina wasn’t sick until she came to see you,” Richard said in rage. “You gave her those pills to make her depressed, and then you gave her an overdose of amphetamines, so that with her history of depression, the police wouldn’t look twice at the cause of death. You killed her!”

  “That’s a lie,” Dr. Bennett said. “You’ll never be able to prove it.”

  “Won’t I?” There was silence, then he said, “I found these in your room, Dorian. I’ve had the contents analyzed. They’re depressants. What were you doing—slipping them into Christina’s food every time you came to visit her? She was always so much worse after you left. I’ve always known you were a cold, greedy bitch, but I never thought you capable of murder. I hope you rot in prison.”

  Andrea’s hand was on the knob. She started to open the door, but before she could, three shots rang out in rapid succession. Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Andrea jerked open the door, startled to find Richard facing her. He was clutching his chest. Blood oozed between his fingers, and for a moment, their eyes met and clung. Then he fell forward into her arms.

  His weight drove them back against the wall. Andrea fell hard, trapped for a moment by Richard’s inert body. She struggled from under him just as Dorian appeared in the doorway. She stared down at Andrea and lifted the gun.

  “Don’t kill her,” Dr. Bennett said behind her. “She’s our scapegoat.”

  Andrea tried to scramble away from them. Her hands and clothes were covered in blood. Richard’s blood.

  Dr. Bennett grabbed her arm. Andrea fought her, but the woman was stronger than she looked. She said to Dorian, “Help me hold her down.”

  Dorian did as she was told, taking pleasure in twisting Andrea’s arm painfully behind her. Dr. Bennett reached for her medical bag. She extracted a syringe, Andrea screamed and struggled harder.

  “What is that?” Dorian asked.

  “Just a mild sedative. Something to make her more susceptible to hypnotic suggestion. I’ll inject it between her fingers, so the needle mark can’t be detected. In a few hours, the drug won’t even show up in her bloodstream and she won’t remember a thing.”

  Andrea felt the jab of the needle between her fingers, and almost immediately, her body grew limp. She fought the effects of the drug, but to no avail. Dr. Bennett’s soothing voice was taking her deeper an
d deeper into the trance.

  * * *

  IT WAS NEARLY eight o’clock, and Andrea was nowhere to be found. Troy sat at his desk at the station, brooding about the day’s events. Should he have brought Andrea in himself? Had he been wrong in giving her one last chance to do the right thing?

  Whether he’d been wrong or not was beside the point now. He had to figure out what to do next. If Andrea had decided to run—and it looked more and more as if she had—he’d have to go after her. When a person ran, it was usually because he or she was guilty, and Troy would be damned before he’d let a murderer go free.

  Even one he’d fallen in love with.

  He rubbed his eyes wearily, wishing to hell he’d decided to become anything but a cop.

  His phone rang and he picked it up, hoping it was Andrea. “Stoner.”

  “Troy? It’s Leanne. Listen. I just got something in I think you need to see.” She paused, then said, “It could blow your case wide open.”

  “I’m on my way down.” Troy hung up the phone and took off at a run.

  Leanne was waiting for him. “Take a look at this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a photocopy of Dr. Claudia Bennett’s yearbook picture.”

  Troy stared down at the image on the paper. The woman, though years younger, looked nothing like the Claudia Bennett he knew. The discrepancies were so pronounced that not even age could have wrought such a change.

  “That’s not the woman who came in here claiming to be Dr. Bennett,” Leanne said. “I got a good look at her that day. There’s no way. And something else. You know that story you told me about Dr. Bennett’s agoraphobia and about the housekeeper who died in the fire?”

  “She called her Marlena.”

  Leanne nodded. “I had the police report on the fire faxed to me. The woman’s name was Marlena Andersen, except…there’s one small problem. Marlena Andersen died five years before the fire.”

  Troy stared at her. “Wait a minute. Are you saying Bennett’s housekeeper was using a fake identity?”

  “Looks that way. You know who I’m betting that housekeeper was, don’t you?”

  “The woman we know as Claudia Bennett.”