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The Black Sheep's Redemption

Page 14

by Lynette Eason


  Gasping, heart pounding, she spun to see the same young man who had watched her enter the restroom. He had stylishly messy dark hair and brown eyes. Hand over her heart, she said, “Yes?”

  He held out his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s all right. Do I know you?”

  He blinked and she saw the hurt in his eyes. “Well, I would hope so. I’m your fiancé.”

  FIFTEEN

  Charles watched his father pace the small room. On the other side of the door, the merriment went on. Charles wanted to be out there, enjoying the party with his brother, but he wouldn’t rest until his father said what he had to say.

  Aiden rubbed his eyes. “Okay, so you found the picture and put two and two together. That was twenty-three years ago.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So, your mother and I had hit a rough patch. We’d agreed to a divorce. I thought that my marriage was over. I was lonely, grieving…” He stopped and shut his eyes while letting out a blustery sigh. “I made a mistake,” he admitted in a low voice. “I was wrong. Horribly, irrevocably wrong. When Tara called to tell me she was pregnant, I was already back and working things out with your mother. But…I just couldn’t leave Tara with nothing. I flew back to Ireland to make sure she and the baby were well taken care of.”

  “Did Mom know?”

  Aiden swallowed. “No. I never told her.”

  Charles nodded. At least she was spared that.

  “So, Olivia Henry was your daughter.”

  A heavy sigh. “Yes. And I see your point about motive. Trust me, I’ve thought about how all this looks, but I didn’t kill her.” He looked at Charles. “And I know you didn’t, either.”

  “The rest of the family needs to know this.”

  “Why?”

  Charles looked at his father, incredulous that the man had to ask. “Because, it’s going to come out one way or another. Olivia’s dead,” he hissed. “You can’t keep your relationship to her a secret much longer. It would be much better for everyone coming from you than to see it on the news.”

  Aiden paced from one end of the room to the other. He finally stopped in front of Charles and Owen. “Okay. You’re right.” His gaze hardened. “But I tell them in my own way, my own time. Let’s see if we can get Olivia’s murder solved before we drop this bomb on them.”

  Charles glanced at Owen who gave a reluctant nod. “Fine.”

  Owen stared at his father. “Those baby items that were sent to the station anonymously last month. You sent those, didn’t you?”

  Charles remembered Owen talking about receiving several baby items, including a baby’s hospital bracelet, a receiving blanket and an uncashed check for ten thousand dollars made out to Olivia Henry. These items had led Owen and Ryan to the conclusion that Olivia had a baby somewhere.

  And their father knew it.

  Charles felt sick.

  “Yes, I did. Olivia gave them to me. After she was murdered, I felt terrible and knew I couldn’t just sit on that evidence.” He paused. “Nor could I come forward and tell everything I knew. That seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  “The right thing—” Charles broke off and ground his teeth. Did his father even understand how that sounded? “The right thing?” Charles felt all the rage he’d been holding in ever since being considered a suspect and then finding that picture in Dad’s tackle box come boiling to the surface. “The right thing would have been to walk away from a woman who wasn’t your wife twenty-three years ago. If you’d done the right thing twenty-three years ago, we wouldn’t be in this situation, would we?”

  Owen stepped between him and his father who’d clenched his fists. Charles stepped away, appalled at how close he was to losing control. Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and turned his back to Owen and his dad.

  Aiden’s voice, gravelly with regret, said, “You’re right. Everything you said is right. I’m sorry, son, and I’ll make it right. I will.”

  “When?” Charles demanded.

  His father glanced at Douglas and Merry. “I’ll tell everyone at the next Sunday family dinner. Douglas and Merry don’t need to know until they get back from their honeymoon. Agreed?”

  Charles and Owen nodded. “Agreed,” Charles muttered.

  * * *

  Demi stared at the unknown man in front of her. At a loss for words, she simply gaped.

  He gave a self-conscious laugh. “Um…so, are you okay? I saw your picture on the news and couldn’t believe it was you. I mean, I have so much I want to talk to you about.”

  She felt frozen, the man in front of her a stranger. And yet, her fiancé? How could this be?

  Gulping, she finally found her voice. “I…I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are. I have amnesia. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Alan Gregor, Demi. Come on. Amnesia? Really?”

  “Is there a problem?” Charles’s voice cut through her brain fog.

  Whirling, she stared into his blue eyes. Eyes she’d come to love over such a short period of time. Not just his eyes, but everything about him.

  Only she didn’t have the right to love him. She’d already promised her love to another.

  Grief nearly shattered her. She should be rejoicing that someone had finally come forward, but she couldn’t get past the fact that she was going to lose Charles. And the children. And his crazy beloved family.

  “I…” What could she say?

  “Demi?” A hard hand gave her shoulder a gentle shake.

  “Charles, this is…” A sob nearly broke through. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “This is Alan Gregor. He claims that he’s my fiancé.”

  “Your what?” His face paled and she saw him swallow hard.

  She drew in a shuddering breath. “He says he’s my fiancé. But I don’t remember him.” Her voice shook. Charles looked like he’d been dealt a blow to his solar plexus.

  She looked at Alan and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”

  Over his shoulder, she spotted Owen, a thundercloud on his face. Ryan and their father were right behind him. For a brief moment, Demi put aside the strange man who’d just rocked her world once again and focused on the approaching family. “Charles? I think something’s wrong.” She pointed.

  He turned and immediately went tense. “What is it?” he asked his tight-lipped father. “What’s wrong now?”

  Aiden said, “Burke Hennessy’s dead.”

  * * *

  Charles froze. “Dead?”

  “A heart attack is what it looks like,” Aiden growled. “They’ll do an emergency autopsy. We should have the report sometime tomorrow.”

  “Oh, no,” Demi whispered. “Poor Christina.”

  “Yes.” Aiden nodded. “She’s the one who found him. Walked in and started screaming according to her nanny. The nanny called 9-1-1. It’s a shame. I mean, I didn’t care much for the guy, but I didn’t wish him dead.” A pause. He looked at his sons. “The media’s already all over this.” Aiden zoomed in on Charles. “Word’s already filtering down that the death is being covered up as a heart attack. They’re speculating that you had something to do with it.”

  Charles flinched. “What? Why? How did they come up with that ridiculous idea?”

  Ryan rubbed his eyes. “Someone said they overheard you threaten Burke.”

  “I never threatened the man,” Charles ground out. “I told him to buzz off and stay out of my business, but I never threatened him.”

  “Well, you were here surrounded by witnesses when he died so I think it’ll be easy enough to prove you didn’t have anything to do with it.” Aiden gestured toward a wide-eyed Alan. “Who’s this?”

  Alan
held out a hand. “I’m Alan Gregor, Demi’s fiancé.”

  In a dazed voice, Demi told what Alan had explained to her only moments before.

  “How did you get in here?” Charles asked. “This reception was by invitation only.”

  “I…sort of lifted an invitation.” He pulled it out of his pocket and waved it with a sheepish look.

  Aiden nearly growled. “You had no business doing that. I should have you thrown out.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that I was trying to find a way to talk to Demi, but she’s surrounded by cops all the time and I…” He shrugged and looked down. “I’m sorry. I should have found another way.”

  “Yeah, you should have. What took you so long to come forward?” Charles asked.

  Alan winced. “It’s a long story.”

  “Why don’t we all find a seat and you can fill us in,” Charles murmured. Already he didn’t like the guy. Demi looked like she’d been sucker punched. The white lines around her lips and eyes betrayed her tension.

  “Ah, do you mind if I speak to Demi alone?”

  The panic in her eyes was all the answer Charles needed. “Actually, I do mind. We’ve come to think of Demi as family, so until you check out, I’ll just stick around. Unless Demi wants me to leave… .”

  “No, stay. Please.”

  The grateful look she shot him told him that his answer was the right one.

  A flash of anger on Alan’s face, quickly snuffed, made Charles a little wary. Then again, he supposed could understand it, too. If he’d just found his fiancée and another man was horning in…well, he wouldn’t like it, either.

  But it didn’t stop him from following the two of them over to an empty table. The reception was winding down. Douglas and Merry would soon leave and Charles wanted to wish them well.

  With one eye on the newlyweds, he focused the rest of his attention on Alan and Demi.

  Alan cleared his throat and leaned in so he could be heard over the music.

  “I didn’t come sooner because I’ve been out of the country.”

  “What’s my name?” Demi asked.

  “Demetria Michelle Townsend.”

  He saw her lips move as she repeated the name. Then she whispered, “I was right. I remembered my name.” She smiled, tears glittering in her eyes.

  “Do you remember anything about what happened?” Alan asked.

  “No. The police think I was attacked and left for dead. I was in the hospital after I was found for about three weeks. When I woke up, I had no memory of anything except my first name.”

  “Oh, Demi, honey,” Alan murmured as he reached over and grasped her fingers for a squeeze. Demi pulled away before Charles had to smash the man’s nose.

  Lord, Charles began to pray, I know I’ve been distant since Kathleen left me and that was wrong. I know I want to pray a selfish prayer and beg You to get this guy away from her, but if that’s not in Your plan, then I ask that You help me accept and deal with it because there’s no way I can do that on my own strength.

  “…right, Charles?” Demi asked.

  He blinked. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something. What?”

  “I said you planned to take me to the hotel where I was staying before I was attacked, but now that Alan is here, that might not be necessary.” She frowned. “Although I do want to get my things.”

  “What hotel?” Alan asked.

  So Demi explained that part of her story while Charles fumed.

  Charles looked at Alan. “The clerk said she seemed afraid. Do you have any idea what she would have been afraid of?”

  Alan’s eyes went wide. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t imagine.” He looked at Demi. “In all your letters that you wrote, you never said anything about being afraid.”

  “Letters?”

  Alan smiled. “Letters, cards, emails. You were so diligent in making sure I had a huge number of them.” His eyes lowered and he cleared his throat as though his emotions were too much. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, Demi.”

  The hoarse words rocked Charles back on his heels. He knew exactly how the man felt. While in the service, letters and cards from family and friends had kept him going. What would Charles do if Demi left him? Chose Alan over him? A coldness swept over him as he considered the possibility. Then he firmed his jaw. No way. He wouldn’t let that happen.

  But how could he stop it? God, please, do something…

  “Tell us your story, Alan,” Charles said.

  Alan sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Right. Okay. I was a government contractor working over in Iraq when my colleagues and I were hit with an IED.”

  At Demi’s blank look, Charles said, “Improvised Explosive Device. A roadside bomb. Generally homemade and designed to do as much damage as possible.”

  “Oh,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  Alan shrugged, but the lines on his face said the memory wasn’t pleasant. Again, Charles could relate. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want to feel anything but dislike for the man who wanted to take Demi away from him.

  The man continued. “I was the only survivor. It took me weeks to recover. When I did, I tried to contact you, but got nowhere. I was sent home on medical leave and started searching for you. Just as I was about to go to the cops, I saw your picture on the news and saw that you’d been attacked in an attempted robbery. But no one told me that you had amnesia, not even the nurses I talked to at the hospital. They just said you caught a bus to someplace near the coast. It took forever to track you down.”

  Demi simply stared at Alan. Charles couldn’t read her expression and that bothered him.

  Alan said, “I couldn’t understand why you hadn’t contacted me, why the letters suddenly stopped. Why you weren’t answering your phone.” He shrugged and a sad smiled pulled at his lips. “Now I understand.” He looked around the room, at Charles then back at Demi. “I know you’ve made new friends, have a new life here, but I’m hoping you’ll at least give me a chance, get to know me again.”

  Demi stood abruptly. “I need some air.”

  * * *

  Demi didn’t know whether to run or laugh or cry. Finally, she had what she’d been hoping—praying—for. Someone who knew her. Knew about her. And what did she do?

  Run away.

  But she needed time, space, to deal with this. To wrap her mind around everything.

  She hadn’t even asked about her family.

  “Are you all right?”

  Demi spun at the sound of the voice. It was the officer who’d been keeping an eye on her. Clearing her throat, she said, “Yes, I just need some time.”

  “Sure.” He backed up, but she noticed he didn’t leave her alone.

  “Demi?”

  She turned.

  Charles. Tears welled as his warm hands settled on her shoulders. She felt his lips brush the edge of her hairline. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

  Looking beyond him, she saw Alan standing in the doorway, watching, hands shoved in his pockets, mouth tight, brow furrowed. She moved away from Charles. “I’m going home. Give my best to Douglas and Merry for me. I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I just need to be alone for a while.”

  She could see Charles wanted to argue—or at least go with her. But she turned on her heel, putting her back to him and Alan.

  The officer followed at a discreet distance.

  Demi’s mind whirled. She needed guidance, direction. But all her friends were related to Charles. Who could she talk to? Who would be objective about her situation?

  “Demi, wait!”

  Turning, eyes nearly blinded with her tears, she made out Alan’s form coming toward her. The officer followed behind.

  “De
mi.” He caught up with her. “Please. Don’t go yet. Come sit with me. Talk to me.”

  She wanted to. Only because she had a zillion questions to ask him. She searched for Charles, but he’d already left. That made her feel sad—and grateful. He’d been willing to honor her request for time alone.

  And then there was Alan. Who seemed so desperate to be with her. She couldn’t begrudge him that. How would she feel if the roles were reversed?

  Brushing aside her tears and telling herself to grow a spine, she straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Fine. Let’s go to the café, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Demi led the way, her heart beating double time once again. With everything in her, she wished Charles was beside her, but knew that wasn’t fair to him or the man who’d just shown up in her life.

  They found a table and ordered coffee. Thank goodness Victoria was still at the wedding reception. Demi didn’t need her watchful eye.

  As it was, nervous jitters made her hands shake. She took a sip of the steaming brew and said, “Can you please tell me a little about my family? My parents? Brothers and sisters?”

  He hesitated, then said, “You’re an only child. Your parents are missionaries in…ah…Brazil, I think you said. You can go months without hearing from them.”

  So that was why no one had reported her missing!

  “But what about friends? A church family?”

  He shrugged. “You lived with your parents in Brazil but came home to take care of their house. That’s how we met. I leased the house next door to your parents. I asked you to stay a little longer rather than return to the mission field so that we could continue to grow our relationship.” His eyes softened and his hand reached out to touch hers. “We fell in love and when I asked you to marry me, you said yes. That’s about it.”

  Her head began to ache the way it did when she tried to think too hard, or when she tried to force the memories. This time she ignored it. “My parents’ house,” she said softly. “Where is it?”

  “In Springfield.”

  “Where I was found. Where I stayed in the hospital.”

 

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