by Curry, Edna
Because nothing else makes sense. Somehow, someone is taking either money or product from this store.
He went down to the storage rooms and reviewed the product receiving procedures with the men who worked there. They seemed to be doing everything according to Latham’s rules. All the safeguards against supplier and vendor theft were posted as required and the men knew the rules well.
He headed back to his office to hunt for clues there.
~ * ~
That evening, Rosie closed her office door and walked to Ken’s. She gave a quick knock and then opened the door. He was still at work at his computer, looking harried. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so endearingly rumpled. He usually wore his dark hair neatly slicked back. Now it was tousled as though he’d been running his fingers through it.
She swallowed and fought a sudden wild urge to go to him and give him a comforting hug. He seemed so much more human this way than when he was perfectly groomed. “Ready to call it a night?” she asked quietly.
He looked up and gave her a tired smile. “I guess so. Maybe this will make more sense in the morning.”
He shut down his computer and they walked out together. She almost expected him to just say goodnight at their cars. She had picked him up for work this morning. But he’d had his car repaired during the day and delivered to the store’s parking lot, so he could drive back to the motel himself.
And since everyone knew he’d broken their engagement, there was no reason to spend time together outside the office. But she wanted to. Was she nuts? Ken had always been the aggressor in their relationship. Now he was holding back and she was the one trying to get closer. How stupid was that? He’d dumped her, hadn’t he?
But there were those kisses that said he still wanted her. And lately, his eyes and expressions had been saying he wanted more than friendship. Should she encourage him?
At their cars, he paused and gave her a smile. “Want to have dinner with me?”
“Sure,” she agreed cautiously. So, he’d taken the question taken out of her hands. “Where do you want to go?” What could it hurt? Even if they were no longer engaged, she could still enjoy a meal with her boss, couldn’t she? They could still be friends. She’d make sure it went no further. No more hot kisses like at the cabin, she told herself sternly. She had to keep things between them on a businesslike basis.
“You choose the restaurant. Lead the way,” he said, getting into his Caddy.
She nodded and got into her car. Did his asking her to dinner mean he wanted to continue a relationship with her after all? Or was he just feeling lonely and frustrated at not remembering things and wanted company?
She decided to go with the flow. Speculating on his motives only gave her a headache and solved nothing.
She drove to a nice restaurant where they’d often gone for dinner. Ken followed her lead as they went inside. He looked around as if he’d never been there before. Had he forgotten this place, too?
The restaurant was crowded, but they managed to get a table in a back corner.
As they made small talk over their meal, Ken remarked on the delicious Walleyed Pike she’d recommended. “It’s been years since I’ve had such a good fish dinner,” he said, leaning back to sip his coffee with a satisfied sigh.
Rosie laughed. “I don’t think so, Ken. You order it almost every time we come here.”
He looked at her in consternation. “I do?”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’ve been here before, then?”
She nodded. “At least once a week over the last year or so. The last time was only a week before you were mugged.”
He glanced around the large room. “Nothing looks in the least familiar,” he said with a sigh.
She covered his hand with hers and gave him a tentative smile. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it.
He frowned and smiled back ruefully. “Why do women always say they’re sorry even if something isn’t their fault?”
She shrugged. “Because we do feel sorry, I guess. And wish we could make the situation better even if we had nothing to do with causing it.”
“I believe you would,” he agreed. “My mother used to do that, too. Try to take away all the hurts, kiss everything to make it better.”
“Really?” Rosie eyed him. He didn’t seem to realize what he’d said. “What was your mother like?”
“Soft and warm, and she hugged us a lot. She liked to make cookies and always made cinnamon rolls with powdered sugar icing on them. We’d come in after school and stuff ourselves with them and ice cold milk.”
“That sounds very nice. “ She let him talk. She didn’t want to mention that he was remembering things from his past. Maybe the memories from his more recent past would return soon, too.
“Yeah. Dad would come home from work and complain that we’d hardly left any cinnamon rolls for him. But she’d just laugh and pull out another pan-full that she’d put away.”
Tears sprang to Rosie’s eyes as she thought of similar scenes from her own childhood. Both her parents were gone now, so she’d have only memories from now on.
The waiter cleared away their plates, then brought them fresh coffee and asked if they’d like dessert. They both declined.
“Have you talked to your mother lately?” she asked.
He shook his head. “There was a message on my answering machine that they would call me when they got back from their cruise, but they haven’t yet.”
“But you don’t remember anything about them recently? Things that happened in the last year or so, I mean?”
“No. There’s a picture in my apartment, but it doesn’t match my memories of them at all. It’ll be strange to try to talk to them.” He sighed and changed the subject. “What about your parents?”
She fought back sudden tears. “Dad’s been gone for years, and Mom just died of cancer a few weeks ago. In fact, I finished cleaning out her apartment the day you were mugged.”
“Oh, I forgot. You told me that a few days ago.” He looked dismayed. He reached out covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“That’s okay. You don’t remember her?”
He shook his head.
“She really liked you. She was so excited about planning our wedding.”
He flushed at the mention of their wedding, the event that he’d cancelled so abruptly.
She really didn’t want to talk about that, either. Looking for her purse, she asked, “Are you ready to leave?”
“Sure.” He picked up the bill and pulled out his billfold, then dropped some bills on the table.
She looked at him in surprise. Ken always used his credit card when they went out, so he could write off as much as possible as a business expense, she’d always suspected. Now he was paying cash for things? Come to think of it, he’d paid for everything with cash since he returned from the hospital. Why? She opened her mouth to ask him, then closed it, biting her lip. His personal finances were no longer her business.
They walked out to their cars together. A light breeze ruffled her long hair. The air was soft with spring warmth and the earthy tang of new-mown grass. Suddenly she was all too aware of his lean, muscular body brushing hers.
It was odd that she hadn’t noticed before how strong he was. Maybe that was only because he’d been wearing more casual clothing lately. She’d never seen him take off his jacket or roll up his shirt sleeves before. He’d always retained his stiff, “Mr. Perfect” look. Now he seemed so much more relaxed and she found that way too appealing.
She pressed the remote to unlock her car and he opened her car door for her. As she moved to get in, he caught her hand and pulled her closer for a kiss. His other arm wrapped around her and brought her up against his body.
She gasped as his warm lips settled over hers. She wanted to push him away, wanted to remind him they were no longer engaged.
But she couldn’t say the words and her body refused to
obey her. Instead, her lips opened to allow his tongue access. Her hands crept up to cup his face, her fingers sliding through his hair. Warmth slid through her as he ravished her mouth, settling into a pool of want between her legs, making her ache for more. She heard a soft moan and realized it had come from her own lips.
Someone whistled at them, and they reluctantly pulled apart. God, they were necking in a public parking lot, for heaven’s sake! Another couple walking to their car grinned at them.
“Rosie….” he began.
Mortified, she shook her head and quickly got into her car, tossing him a “goodnight” over her shoulder.
What was she thinking, kissing him like that? He hadn’t ever kissed her like that before. And now he does, after he’s dumped her? What was he thinking?
She glanced in her rear view mirror and saw his Caddy behind her. The sun had set, but it was barely dark, since the days were getting so long now.
He followed her to her house and waited until she was safely inside before waving and backing out.
She gave a sigh as she walked inside, though she couldn’t help being half disappointed that he hadn’t asked to come in to continue where they’d left off.
What was the matter with her? Had she no pride?
Chapter 8
As he backed out of Rosie’s driveway, he felt a thud against his driver’s door and then another sharp crack.
Gunfire! He automatically ducked as one side of his car lowered.
He heard a motor and raised his head to see a dark van race past him and on down the street. In the yellow light of the street lamp, he made out the last three digits of the rear license plate before it disappeared.
Pulling out his cell phone, he called 911 to report the incident and then went to ring her doorbell to check on Rosie. He wasn’t taking a chance on this guy returning.
A light had come on upstairs in Rosie’s house, and he could see her shadow moving on the shade. Thank God she was okay.
~ * ~
Rosie was just about to undress when she heard a car back-fire several times. Those hot-rodders were at it again, she thought. Then her doorbell chimed.
She hurried downstairs and answered the door, looking at him curiously. “Ken? Did you forget something?”
Scamp rushed forward to bark a welcome. Since she knew Scamp didn’t like Ken and he hated having the dog rub against him and get dog hair on his clothes, Rosie grabbed Scamp’s collar.
“Are you okay? Someone just shot at me!”
She stared at him, then looked up and down the empty street. “Someone really shot at you? I heard something, but I thought it must be a car back-firing. We have a lot of teenagers with old cars in the neighborhood, you know.”
“They were in a dark van, but it’s gone now.” He reached down to pet the dog. “Nice doggie. What’s his name?”
“Scamp,” she said, amazed at Ken’s reaction to the dog. And Scamp, who usually growled at Ken, was wagging his tail! “His name is Scamp. Come on in.”
“I’ve called the police. I suppose I’ll have to wait a bit to answer their questions before I move my car out of the street. They wrecked a tire, so it’ll have to be towed.”
She nodded. “Honestly, what next? Good thing there’s not much traffic this time of the night.” She led him to her kitchen and moved to open a cupboard door. “I’ll make some coffee while we wait for the officers to arrive.”
“Thanks. Got a phone book? I’ll call the tow truck again. This is getting kind of old.”
He glanced around, noting the yellow flowered wallpaper and oak cupboards. A trailing ivy plant sat on the window sill. It was a cheerful kitchen, which seemed to suit Rosie’s sunny personality.
She handed him the directory and made the coffee while he sat at the table and searched the yellow pages. When the coffee was ready she took some mugs from a wooden stand and filled them.
“Who can be doing these awful things?” Rosie’s hands trembled as she set the mugs of coffee down and sat across from him. “And why are they doing them?”
“I wish I knew.” He marked a number, pulled out his cell phone and made arrangements for towing and repair of his Caddy. Scamp lay on the floor beside him.
Rosie said, “I can’t believe how good Scamp is being tonight. Usually he growls at you and he’s restless the whole time you’re here. Tonight he’s acting like he’s accepting you as belonging here with us.”
He shrugged, smiling down at the dog and then reaching down to pat his head again. “Are you getting to like me, boy? That’s good.” He sipped the hot coffee.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Scamp rose and growled as Rosie opened the door to a tall, heavyset young officer carrying a clipboard. She invited him inside and handed him a cup of coffee as she introduced herself and Ken.
He explained the attack to the officer, taking him outside and showing him the hole in the driver’s door of his car and the ruined tire. Then they returned to the kitchen to finish his report.
“It was an older dark van, probably a blue or black Chevrolet. I got a partial plate number,” Ken said. “The last three digits were 787.”
“That’ll help,” the young officer said, writing it down. “But I’ve got to tell you, it’s not much to go on. There are thousands of older vans out there, and blue and black were the most popular colors a few years ago.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
The officer talked on his phone a bit, and turned back to them, his brows dipping. “You’re the guy who was mugged in the Latham parking lot a week or so ago? And had his apartment burglarized the same night?” he asked.
“Yeah. And then yesterday, someone burned the building I lived in and slashed all the tires on my car and left a threatening note. I just got the tires replaced today, and now one is ruined again.”
“Trouble seems to follow you around, doesn’t it?” The burly officer’s face had hardened and now held a suspicious frown.
“Or somebody is following me around causing trouble,” he returned.
“Maybe.” The officer eyed him, then asked a dozen questions which sounded as though he suspected Ken was into drugs or worse.
He couldn’t blame the officer for thinking like that. The worst of it was, he was probably right. Those notes demanding money certainly hinted at illegal activity of some kind. But without his memory, how was he going to figure out what so he could straighten out this mess?
Finally, the officer headed outdoors to collect physical evidence. After the officer had taken his pictures and found nothing else, he left.
The tow truck arrived and hauled his Caddy away.
He went back into the house to call a cab and say goodnight to Rosie, thinking the evening had lost the lovely glow it had had after their dinner date.
But Rosie was sitting in her living room, watching TV and waiting for him. He’d intended to say goodnight to Rosie and take a cab back to the motel room he now called home.
Instead, Rosie lifted her glass to him. “I switched to wine,” she said. “Want some?”
“Sure, why not?” Kirk sat on the beige fabric sofa and looked around the cozy living room. Soft beige carpet covered the floor, and orange, yellow and gold pillows brightened the room. Shelves of books lined one wall. Several pictures hung on the walls and a fan of recent magazines covered half of the low walnut coffee table. Several green plants sat on end tables. She’d certainly made it seem like a real home.
She poured him a glass of wine and handed it to him. Then she lifted her glass to her lips and sipped. “What in the world is going on, Ken?”
He shrugged. “If I knew, Rosie, don’t you think I’d do whatever it took to put a stop to it?”
“I should certainly hope so. But I’m not sure I know you anymore. You’ve been acting so different these past couple of weeks.”
He finished his wine and set his glass on the coffee table in front of them. “I don’t know myself, Rosie. But I do know I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted an
yone.”
She just looked at him, wonder on her face. She made no objection at all when he took her empty glass and set it on the coffee table beside his, then took her in his arms and kissed her. But her lips opened in hot response to his plunder. His tongue slipped inside, teasing hers.
She hadn’t said so in words, but her body definitely said that she wanted him, too. A soft moan escaped her lips.
He trailed kisses down her throat, then lower, one hand sliding her blouse aside to reveal the swell of her breast. She tipped her head, allowing him better access and her nipple pebbled tightly as his tongue touched it. Encouraged, he covered it with his mouth, wanting so much more. He met her gaze and saw that she did, too. She squirmed in delight and arched back, allowing him fuller access. Her warmth sent a shiver of pleasure along his veins. Encouraged by her response, he drew the hard bud into his mouth, pleased when she gasped his name.
Somehow, they were on their feet and moving up the stairs to her bedroom, frantically removing clothes as they went. He threw back the comforter on her bed, then helped her step out of the last of her clothes, running a hand along her bare hip, saying, “Your skin is so smooth and silky. I love touching it.”
“And I love having your hands on me.” She slid her hands along his chest, fingering the crisp hairs there, and kissed his hardened nipple. She grinned when he shuddered in response.
“Like that?” she asked.
“You know I do,” he said with a groan as she repeated the teasing movement, then ran her lips along his chest and reached down to cup his erect member. “Oh, God, I’m going to explode if you keep doing that.”
He eased her down onto the bed and followed, covering her with his body, then reached between them and rubbed a finger into her nest of curls. Their hands and tongues delighted in exploring everywhere. When at last they joined, it was only seconds before she peaked. With a groan of pleasure, he followed her lead.
As they lay side by side, catching their breath, she remembered their pledge to wait for sex until after the wedding. Somehow, in the heat of their passion, she’d totally forgotten that. Evidently, so had he.