by T. F. Walsh
“I don’t know, and that bothers me. I think Ivan’s right. She’s the employer, out there somewhere, and I don’t trust her. With The Butcher dead, the contract is null and void. The man worked alone, so no one will try to finish the job. Carlotta’s out of funds and without money, there’s no way she’ll be able to order another hit. We should be safe now, but I won’t be happy until Interpol has her behind bars.”
Jason cleared his throat awkwardly, preparing to ask her something. It was amazing how expressive a person’s face could be. Had she always been able to read people so easily? Probably not. If she had, she’d never have married Sam or whoever he was. She watched Jason run his fingers through his hair. It was his “tell”—an action he only did when he was frustrated or worried. If he had more bad news, she wasn’t sure she could handle it at the moment.
“Right now, I need to know what you’re going to do next. I need to know that wherever you choose to be, you’ll be safe there. The Butcher may be dead and this case more or less closed, but there are still too many unanswered questions.”
She didn’t hesitate. “I want to go home. Mandy does, too. I want to go back to Larosa.”
He smiled, apparently satisfied with her answer, and she relaxed.
“That works. Carlotta’s on the run in Europe, and although the Larosa Sheriff’s Department isn’t big, I trust my brother to keep you safe. We have to go to San Francisco first. We’ll be there a couple of days. Irene wants to check you over, and there’s paperwork to file to have Thomas extradited to France to face embezzlement charges. I don’t know how you want to handle things with your mother. I know you don’t remember her, but maybe you can build a new relationship with Thomas out of the picture. Once everything is settled, I’ll take you back to Larosa. I’ve got some vacation time coming, and I’d like to stick around until it’s all over.”
He looked as if he were afraid she’d reject his offer.
“I’d like that. If you like, you can stay in the house. I’ll feel better knowing I’m not alone. Besides, if you aren’t nearby, who’ll chase away the demons? You’ve been my guardian angel so far, I need you to stay on the job a bit longer. ”
She watched him relax.
Cassie chuckled, inadvertently shattering the moment.
“Pretty soon it’ll be like old home week,” Cassie said. “Jason mentioned the clinic was still looking for a full-time doctor. Nathan had Brad look into it for him, and it looks like we’ll be moving to Larosa when his six months in Afghanistan are over. Baby Nicholas Jason and I will love having his godparents close by.”
Nikki watched the pride and wonder appear on Jason’s face. “You named him after me?”
“After both of you. We’re going to call him Nick. The name seemed fitting since you made it possible for his daddy to be here when he was born, although I’ll look forward to a little less excitement the next time I give birth.”
Jason laughed. “I’m honored. Larosa is a great place. Almost nothing ever happens there.”
The happiness on his face faded and was replaced by the traces of the guilt she occasionally saw there. He didn’t think he was a great agent, blaming himself for having taken so long to solve the puzzle from that night, but to her, he’d always be a hero.
The door opened. “The ambulance is here,” Nathan said walking over to his wife and kissing her. He turned to Jason. “Troy and Angie are waiting for you three.”
Jason held out his arms to pick up the blanket-covered child from her lap.
“Ready to go?”
• • •
“Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re here.”
Jason’s voice roused her, and Nikki opened her eyes. They’d ended up spending two weeks in a hotel suite in San Francisco. Irene and the doctor who’d set her hand had been amazed at her recovery. She’d visited with Dr. James, and on his advice, had decided not to explore the more intrusive methods of trying to recapture her memories. He encouraged her to continue drawing and reminded her that some of her retrieved memories had been triggered by familiar things and situations—like the puppy in bed. More could easily come back that way.
Jason had helped her file the necessary papers against Thomas Lincoln. The Honolulu police had arrested him, and he sat in jail awaiting extradition. Her mother was in a private clinic on Oahu recovering from shock and an addiction to the “nerve medication” she’d been taking for years. When she was well enough to move, Nikki planned to send her to recover in the family château. Perhaps being in France again would help her heal.
Everything Thomas Lincoln owned had been confiscated by the IRS as they launched an investigation into him and his company. There could well be other charges filed in the United States, especially if some of his money had been used to fund criminal activity. Ivan had finished his investigation into her father’s accident in Switzerland, but it looked like it had been a tragic climbing error and nothing more. Thomas had been lucky—well, his luck had run out.
Nikki yawned, stretched, and got out of the car. The two-story brick and clapboard house with its lovely wraparound veranda and attached two-car garage appeared to have recently been repainted. The dark gray upper story with its black shutters set off the main level’s light gray brickwork well, and appealed to her artist’s eye.
Mandy, with Danny on her heels, ran up the steps and jumped onto the beautiful porch swing suspended from the veranda ceiling. Nikki smiled. She loved swings.
“Mommy, Grandpa didn’t take it away,” Mandy exclaimed. The child had the puppy in her arms, and the little animal seemed right at home with the swing’s to and fro motion.
The door opened and Mandy jumped off the swing, screeching as another child dressed in pink rushed out of the house to greet her. The two little girls bounced up and down squealing and laughing as only five-year-old girls could. Danny ran around them in circles barking.
“She missed her,” said a brunette coming out the door. “Hi, Nikki. I wouldn’t have recognized you, but the moppet was a steady visitor at our house. I’m Trudy, and that’s Lily. There’s a lasagna in the oven, so you won’t have to cook tonight. Maria, your housekeeper, came in early in the week and cleaned the place, too.”
“Thank you,” Nikki was overcome by the woman’s gesture of friendship.
“Jason, Rick brought your stuff over this morning and put it in the spare room upstairs. He wants you to call him when you have a chance. She turned to her daughter. “Come on, Lily. Mandy has a lot to do, and Daddy will be home for supper soon. I’m sure the two of you can have a play date tomorrow.”
“Can I, Mommy, please?” Mandy begged.
Nikki sympathized with her daughter who hadn’t had a playmate her own age in weeks.
“Of course.” She smiled at Trudy. “Maybe Lily could come over here to play. Where do you live?”
“Three doors down the street. Yellow house. Drop in for coffee anytime.”
Lily returned the puppy to Mandy and waved as she followed her mother down the steps.
“Are you ready?” Jason asked holding the door open.
Nikki nodded and followed him into the home she didn’t remember.
Chapter Nineteen
“Can Danny come in, too?” Mandy asked hesitantly from the doorway. “Daddy said no dogs allowed in the house. You discussed it.”
Nikki swallowed her anger and smiled. “What Daddy said doesn’t matter anymore. Danny lives here now.”
Mandy hurried inside. She stopped suddenly, her mouth agape, her eyes saucer-sized.
“Mommy, it’s all changed,” she said, her voice filled with excitement. With Danny chasing her, she ran off to explore the house.
Knowing she didn’t remember her home because it had been altered eased Nikki’s dismay.
“Thomas made some changes to make the house nicer,” Jason said.
Nikki smiled. “You mean easier to sell.”
Jason put his arm around her shoulder. “That, too. When we went to Colorado, he pulled out the cont
ractors he’d hired and left everything half-done. I spoke to Rick, and two local guys came in and finished the job. If you want anything changed, just let me know.”
There went that hand in his hair again. “You said you wanted to come back here to live and you couldn’t have otherwise. I hope it’s okay.”
“Thank you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I remember someone telling me that, but it slipped my mind. Have the men been paid?”
“Yeah. The bill went to Thomas, and he reluctantly coughed up the money. He’d stored your furniture, so it’s been brought back. The upstairs wasn’t touched.”
“I like it this way, Mommy.” Mandy came running back into the room. “The kitchen is all shiny, and there’s a big room with a fireplace at the back. Daddy’s office is gone, too.”
The house, open-concept, was light and airy. It was beautiful, if a little austere and sparsely decorated, but a few new pieces of furniture, brightly colored cushions, and knick-knacks would fix that. She noted the artwork on the walls.
“I’d have expected to see some of my paintings hanging in here,” she said. She stepped over to the closest one and examined it. “This definitely isn’t my work.”
“The house probably reflects his taste, not yours. This,” he indicated the room, “reminds me a lot of the clinic. Why don’t you have a look around down here while I bring in the stuff from the car? You can redecorate the place any way you like.”
She turned away from the painting.
“Minimalism isn’t my style, or it isn’t any more. Bringing in all our stuff will take a while. Do you want help?”
The SUV was crammed full of bags and boxes of food, clothing, shoes, boots, toys, and other necessities she’d purchased for Mandy and herself. Other things, including a dollhouse, would be delivered next week along with the art supplies she’d purchased.
“It’s okay. I’m really strong,” he joked. “I can manage.”
He assumed the classic body builder stance, making her laugh.
“You are strong. You can carry me and Mommy, and you don’t even complain about doing it.”
Jason smiled at Mandy and winked at her. “Anytime, munchkin. Just let me know when you need a lift.”
Nikki watched him leave, and then turned to examine the main floor of her home, admiring the simplicity and efficiency of the design. Jason came in behind her, placed the grocery bags on the kitchen island, and put his arms around her. The blue and white ceramic floor gleamed as did the new stainless steel appliances. She was sure the room looked nothing like it had that night, and she secretly thanked Thomas for that.
“Apparently your cleaning lady used to come in once a week. I’m sure she’ll be happy to continue doing so. I can help with laundry and yard work, but if you want something other than take-out, you’ll have to cook.”
She turned in his arms and lifted hers around his neck. “That’ll work. I’m a good cook, remember?” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him softly. “But for tonight, we have that lasagna in the oven, and it smells delicious. There’s a salad in the fridge, too, and it looks like Trudy stocked the basics.”
Jason moved to kiss her again, but Mandy called, and they climbed the stairs to see what she wanted.
The little girl was standing in the doorway of the front bedroom. The puppy was sitting on the lower bunk as if he belonged there.
“Mommy, can I have this room now, please? It’s got bunk beds, and Lily could sleep over.”
Nikki saw the pleading on her face and moved into the doorway to look at her daughter’s choice.
It was a boy’s room, complete with bunks, two lowboy dressers, and a desk and chair all made of blond oak. The walls were painted dark blue, the curtains and bedspreads a paler shade of blue. The laptop on the desk was hooked up to a video game controller. There were no toys in the room, but the autographed San Francisco Giants game poster recalled the sounds and smells of a ballpark.
I took him to that game.
The room shimmered, and as she looked over at the bottom bunk, she saw a small boy dressed in baseball pajamas, his brown hair still wet from the shower, his chocolate eyes sparkling with excitement. He held a baseball glove in one hand and a ball in the other.
“I made the team, Mommy.”
She was filled with sorrow so devastating its blackness threatened to engulf her. She reached out to her son, but the sound of Mandy’s voice dragged her back. The puppy sat on the bunk, his head cocked to one side.
“Why are you crying, Mommy?” The concern in her daughter’s voice anchored her.
Jason pulled her into his arms.
“I thought you were going to faint.” His face was a mass of conflicting emotions. “Are you all right? Should I call the doctor?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled although the tears continued to fall. “I remember Danny. I remember my son.”
“Mommy, doesn’t remembering make you happy?”
“It does, sweetie, but it also makes me sad because now I know how much I loved him, and how much I miss him.”
“I miss him, too.” Mandy hugged her. “He’d be happy I named my puppy after him, wouldn’t he?”
Tears continued to slide down Nikki’s cheeks. “He most certainly would. He wanted a puppy, too.”
“Then can I have his room?”
Nikki laughed through her tears. “Why don’t we wait and see? Show me your room. If it’s big enough, maybe we can get bunk beds for you, too.” She wasn’t ready to change anything in here yet.
Jason cleared his throat. She could read the sympathy and helplessness on his face.
“I’ll bring up the stuff from downstairs.”
She took Mandy’s small hand in hers, needing to stay focused. She couldn’t give in to the crippling sorrow she felt. Tonight, after Mandy was in bed, she’d give herself over to her grief. She’d sit down and remember her son.
“Show me your room.”
Mandy nodded solemnly.
Nikki allowed her daughter to lead her down the hall, past the washroom, into a room decorated in mauve and white. The room contained a French provincial styled dresser and mirror, a matching double bed and night table, a bookcase, and a large rocking chair, but it was more impersonal than the hotel room she’d just left. Again, there were no dolls or teddy bears, none of the things she’d have associated with a five-year-old girl’s room. There were a couple of prints on the walls, but even these didn’t suit a child. No wonder her daughter wanted another room.
“Where are all your toys?’ Nikki asked.
Mandy pointed to the bookshelf. “My books are there.” She opened the closet door and pointed to a small toy chest. “My stuffies and dollies are in here, but my big toys like my baby carriage and my tricycle are in the garage. Daddy didn’t let us play in our rooms. It made them messy, and he didn’t like messes.”
“Well, this place needs redecorating. You have lots of new toys now and your doll house will be here next week. If we get you bunk beds, you’ll have lots of space to play. I believe a table and chairs set and maybe an art easel would look good in that corner. What do you think?”
Mandy threw herself into her arms. “You’re the bestest mommy in the whole world.” She hugged her tightly. “I love you.”
Nikki swallowed, ashamed for not standing up to the man who’d been her husband.
“Why don’t you show me my room now?” she suggested.
Mandy led her into the master bedroom, which was as lifeless as the rest of the house. The memories she’d feared didn’t surface, and Nikki relaxed. It was just a room. The en suite bathroom brought back no recollections either.
Jason entered carrying her two new suitcases.
“I put Mandy’s things in the room with the purple bedspread. I figured that was hers since all my stuff is across the hall, and the other room up here is empty. Trudy said the lasagna will be ready in about an hour. That’ll give you time to unpack.”
She squared her shoulders and nodded. “
Good idea. Come on, Mandy. Let’s put your new things away first.”
• • •
Jason stood on the back deck, watching the stars come out, and feeling like the worst kind of heel. How could he have forgotten about clothes?
Before supper, Nikki had unpacked Mandy’s suitcase and bagged all the things the little girl had outgrown. He’d carried the bags downstairs for her.
They’d eaten at the kitchen table, enjoying the sunset. The meal had been delicious, and they’d cleaned up the kitchen together while Mandy cuddled on the rattan couch—no doubt deck furniture brought in to make the room less bare—to watch one of her favorite television shows while Nikki unpacked her things.
He’d gone up to stow his gear and walked in on her emptying the dresser drawers in the guest room, tears running down her cheeks. The items she placed so carefully in that bag were baby clothes, intended for the child she’d lost—lost because of him.
He held her in his arms and let her cry her heart out as guilt consumed him. When she’d pulled away and said she’d go empty her suitcases, he’d quickly put his stuff away and escaped outside where he’d burned off some of his frustration and anguish by mowing the lawn.
He berated himself for not asking Rick to go through the drawers and the closets. She’d come down twenty minutes ago with a good-sized cardboard box that she placed beside the items he’d take to the local thrift shop in the morning. He was dismayed to see maternity clothes on top. He didn’t know if the baby clothes were on the bottom, but he suspected they might be.
Nikki came out of the house, the screen door closing softly behind her. He’d made a small fire in the chiminea at the edge of the deck, moved the loveseat closer to it, and had uncorked a bottle of the cabernet he knew she liked. After the cold in Colorado, it felt downright balmy. Mild late November evenings were a treat in Larosa, and spending one with Nikki was a dream come true. He just wished he knew how to ease her pain. Confessing sin might be good for the soul, but all he could see it doing in this case was causing more pain and ruining whatever chance he had of making it up to her.