What Lies Beneath

by Andrea Laurence

  From the penthouse to a semiprivate cot in just a few hours’ time. It was such a disaster. And to think she’d woken up believing the world was hers for the taking. She was in love, her career was taking off…there was only the nagging worry about her persistent amnesia and what it would mean for her.

  Well, standing on the sidewalk outside her store wasn’t helping anything. She headed west toward the hospital where she could find Gwen and prayed she was on shift tonight. Adrienne was about to turn the corner toward Greenwich Village when she felt an iron hand grip her shoulder.

  Just great.

  Homeless, penniless, hopeless and now someone was going to mug her. And take what? All she had left was her pride, and that wouldn’t go for much at the local pawn shop. Spinning on her heel, ready to fend off her would-be mugger, she found herself face-to-face with Nigel.

  “What are you doing?” she screeched. “You scared the hell out of me.” Adrienne jerked from his grasp and stumbled backward.

  Nigel looked like hell. He hadn’t changed his clothes or shaved since she saw him at the party, and she was willing to believe he hadn’t slept either. His oversized tuxedo was wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot and wild with emotion and sleep deprivation. He looked like a man on the edge.

  “How did you find me here? Did you follow me?”

  Nigel nodded. “I’ve been watching your building and saw you leave. I followed you to try and talk some sense into you.”

  “You’ve been following me around Manhattan for hours?” A deep sense of unease was pooling in her already unsteady stomach. The last words he’d spoken to her were a threat, and then he’d started stalking her. She took another slow step back. If he had a weapon, she didn’t want to be within swiping range.

  “I did what I had to do. I need to talk with you.”

  There was a growing edge of hysteria in his voice that Adrienne didn’t like. “There’s nothing to talk about, because I’m not Cynthia Dempsey.”

  “Oh, is that your new story?” Nigel sneered at her, his upper lip curling with irritation. “And who are you now, Miss High and Mighty?”

  Why did no one believe her when she tried to tell the truth? “There was a mixup at the hospital. My name is Adrienne. They thought I was Cynthia, but I’ve regained my memory and know now that I’m not.”

  Nigel frowned at her. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

  How could she prove it to him? Maybe the same way she’d unknowingly convinced Will. “I have no rose tattoo, Nigel. I know you would’ve seen it at some point. I’m not going to drop my pants in the street, but you can believe me when I say it. Will threw me out of the apartment because the tattoo was missing. That’s why I’m wandering around Manhattan without a coat, a purse or a dime to my name.”

  Nigel struggled to swallow a hard lump in his throat. “If you’re Adrienne, then where the hell is Cynthia?”

  Adrienne squeezed her eyes shut. Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, fate slapped her down and proved her wrong. Did she really have to connect those dots for him? She couldn’t have him stalking her around town when she had no place safe to go, so she supposed she had to. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Cynthia was killed in the plane crash. They confused us and thought I was dead instead of her.”

  If Adrienne had thought he was angry before, she was wrong. Nigel’s jaw locked, his face flushing crimson with anger. “Stop lying to me!” He lunged toward her, and his hand flew before she could react. His fist made contact with her chin, sending her flying backward.

  The last thing she remembered was the cold sensation of the concrete sidewalk against her back and the loud thunk of her head as it hit the ground and knocked her out.

  * * *

  “I don’t understand. What was she doing in SoHo without any money or identification? Was she mugged?”

  Adrienne recognized the voice of Pauline Dempsey, her tone growing more shrill with concern. For a minute, everything was jumbled in her mind. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was fighting with Nigel. How did she end up in a room with Cynthia’s parents? She was curious but didn’t want to open her eyes. Her head hurt too much, and she was sure the lights illuminating her eyelids wouldn’t help.

  “It’s possible, but I doubt it. The cops seem to think she was assaulted by someone she knew. The 911 dispatcher said the male caller gave her name. Without ID, no one would’ve known who she was otherwise.”

  “I bet it was that man from last night. I knew I should’ve called security. How is my little girl going to get better at this rate?” This time the voice was her father’s. Or rather, George Dempsey’s.

  Was she in the hospital again? Wait…Nigel hit her when she told him Cynthia was dead. She must’ve been knocked pretty hard to black out.

  “She’s going to be fine. Fortunately, the man who hit her struck her jaw and not her cheekbones or any of the other parts that are still healing from surgery. She has a concussion, so we’ll need to keep an eye on her for a little bit, but I don’t think it’s very serious.”

  “Very serious?” George’s voice grew louder with irritation. “My daughter can’t remember who she is, and you think another blow to the head isn’t serious?”

  There was no way Adrienne was going to be able to stay floating around in the dark sea that comforted her. Someone had to put a stop to this circus. She forced her eyes open, her hand coming up quick to cup her jaw when a groan sent a bolt of pain through her face. “Ow.”

  “Cynthia?”

  They still thought she was Cynthia. Will hadn’t told them the truth. She had the opportunity to end things differently than she had with Will, and she wanted to. She didn’t want the couple that had been so kind to her to hate her the way he did.

  Adrienne pushed herself up and looked around. She was in a hospital bed again, one very similar to the one she’d woken up in a few weeks ago, if not the very same. Pauline and George were standing to her left, the doctor to her right. And in the back of the room, leaning against the wall, was Will.

  He didn’t say anything when she looked at him. He just watched her with cold indifference. He hated her; she could tell as much from the stiff crossing of his arms and hardened jaw. But he hadn’t told Cynthia’s parents the truth. Why? He’d seemed angry enough to want to expose her to everyone, and yet he hadn’t.

  “Cynthia, are you okay? What happened to you? Were you attacked?” Pauline was at her side in an instant, rubbing her arm protectively.

  Adrienne shifted her gaze from Will and turned to the woman seated beside her.

  “I’m not Cynthia,” she said as she softly shook her head.

  Pauline and George both frowned and looked at one another with concern. “What’s that dear?” Pauline asked.

  “My name isn’t Cynthia. I remember now. I remember everything. My name’s Adrienne. Adrienne Lockhart.”

  Her two former parents turned from her to the doctor, their eyes wide with confusion and concern.

  “Doctor, what’s going on?” George demanded.

  The doctor frowned and approached the bed. He pulled out a pen light and shined it in her eyes while asking her questions about dates and political figures. She got all the answers right, but that didn’t seem to make him any happier. “You say you’re not Cynthia Dempsey?”

  “Yes,” she said, nodding her head and wincing with the movement. That bastard had hit her hard. “I’m certain my name is Adrienne. I’m from Milwaukee. My parents were Allen and Miriam Lockhart.” She looked at Pauline and then George. “I don’t understand how this could happen. How could I be confused with another person?”

  Pauline pulled away, taking a few steps back to cradle herself against George’s side. Adrienne hated to see the pained expressions on their faces. She didn’t have to tell them the implications of her announcement like she had with Nigel. Only a small child and a teenage boy survived the crash with her. If she wasn’t Cynthia, then their daughter was amongst the casualties.

&n
bsp; “Your accident was very severe, and you were almost unrecognizable.” The doctor was already covering his bases for the inevitable lawsuit. “Do you remember living as Cynthia?”

  Adrienne nodded again. “I do. I don’t recall the day of the accident, but I remember everything else, before and after the crash.”

  “It appears as though your memory loss has been reversed, perhaps by the second blow to the head. And that leads us to another unfortunate complication. Please excuse us,” the doctor said to her. “I need to speak with the Dempseys in private.” He held out his hand and ushered the couple into the hallway for more damage control.

  Adrienne took a deep breath and flopped back against her pillows once the door shut. She closed her eyes as tears formed and blurred her vision of the angry man across from her bed. She refused to cry again with Will still there, watching her. He’d never believe the truth—that her heart was broken—and would probably accuse her of crocodile tears for sympathy.

  “You didn’t tell them,” she said at last when he continued to stand there without speaking.

  “I wanted to see if you did the right thing first.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. It was so hard to look at the man she loved and see the naked rage of a stranger instead. He was nothing like the relaxed, happy Will who had kissed her in Times Square and swept her across the dance floor at her party. All that was left was the cold, hard shell of a businessman poised to take down a competitor. There was no reading him. It made it impossible to know if she’d passed his test. “And?”

  “And you’re a better actress than I thought.” At that, he turned and strode from the room without glancing back.

  With the slam of the hospital room door, the last remaining fragments of love and hope left in Adrienne’s heart shattered, and she could no longer hold back the tears.

  * * *

  “You can stay with me as long as you need to. Or can stand to. My apartment is a fifth-floor walkup and only four hundred square feet, so I expect you to be gone by Wednesday.”

  Gwen held out a key and a slip of paper with her address. “You just make yourself at home. Eat whatever you like. You can probably fit in some of my clothes, too, although the pants might run a little short on you since I come from a family of elves. I’ll be home around six in the morning.”

  Adrienne leaned in and hugged Gwen fiercely. When it was all said and done, the only friend she’d made since her accident was the only one she had left. It had been less than twenty four hours since the news of Cynthia’s death, and already the world had lost interest in Adrienne Lockhart.

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” Adrienne said, fighting the tears that were a constant threat of late.

  “Not a problem, honey. Now, keep an eye on your jaw and that lump of yours. It’s a good excuse to have a milkshake for dinner. I’ll check on you in the morning to make sure you don’t need to see the doctor again.”

  After being discharged Monday afternoon, Adrienne had gone to meet Gwen. Her plans were to go to her apartment, surprise her aunt with the news of her miraculous resurrection and ask her to wire some money to her. From there, she could buy a change of clothes and hopefully get a bus ticket. Trains were too expensive, and planes were out of the question.

  She waved to Gwen and headed for the elevator. When she walked out of the hospital, she stopped short as a black town car pulled directly in front of her. The window rolled down in the back, and she was surprised to find Pauline Dempsey looking out at her.

  “Mrs. Dempsey?”

  “Pauline, dear, please. Do you have a ride to wherever you’re going?”

  The answer was no. Gwen had given her ten bucks for the subway and a strawberry milkshake. “I was going to take the subway.”

  The older woman looked appalled. “Absolutely not. You’re a magnet for trouble, my dear. You’ll get mugged again.”

  The door of the town car flew open and Adrienne had to leap back to keep from getting hit. “Are you sure?” She wasn’t entirely comfortable around Cynthia’s family now. Things had to be awkward for everyone.

  “Get in the car, please.”

  Adrienne did as she was told, the authoritative and motherly tone leaving no question. She imagined it was hard for Pauline to look at her and not see her daughter. To not want to treat her the way she treated Cynthia.

  Once inside, she shut the door and found Pauline was alone. “Do you have an address to give Henry?”

  Adrienne passed the slip of paper over the seat to the driver and the car pulled away from the hospital.

  “I called to find out what time you were being discharged. I wanted to talk to you before you went home to Wisconsin.”

  “Talk to me about what? I told the doctors I don’t remember much.” Adrienne had hoped her memory of the day of the accident and meeting Cynthia would return, but it continued to be a black hole. She figured it was probably better that way if she was ever going to get on a plane again.

  “Dear, I’m not fishing for information. I’m concerned for you. Whether or not you are my daughter, I sat in that hospital every day for five weeks drinking bad coffee and praying for you to recover. I was so proud of you Saturday night at your party. You are a beautiful, talented young woman, and your parentage doesn’t change that.”

  “Thank you.” She was mildly uncomfortable with the woman’s compliments. “I’m very sorry about Cynthia.”

  The older woman nodded and looked down at the hands folded in her lap. “I loved my oldest daughter very much, but she could be very difficult sometimes. There were days I thought Will was a saint to even tolerate her, much less marry her.

  “But these past few weeks with you have been so nice. Even through the tears and anxiety of the accident, you were always such a sweet person. I should’ve known then you weren’t my daughter, but I hoped she’d made a change for the better. I think maybe I’ll keep those memories as my last memories of Cynthia. End our relationship on a more positive note.”

  Adrienne nodded but took a moment to figure out how to respond. “My mother died in a car accident when I was eight. She loved to sew, and I spent hours watching her make dresses and play clothes for me and my dolls. After her accident, I climbed up to her sewing machine and continued her work. That’s where I got my passion for designing clothes.

  “But I’ve always had a hole in my life where she was concerned. It’s hard for a teenage girl to grow up with a single father. They don’t understand anything. And when he died a few years ago, I had nothing left.

  “If not for the mixup, I would’ve woken up in the hospital completely alone and spent the weeks of my recovery without anyone who cared. Even though you aren’t really my parents, having you and George there for me these few short months has been priceless. I missed having family so much. I know speaking to me might be difficult for you both, but please feel free to keep in touch.”

  Adrienne could see the tears in Pauline’s eyes even in the dark cabin of the car. “Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and hugging Adrienne. “I would love to keep in touch and see how you are doing, how your career is going.”

  “I’m not sure I have much of a career left, but thanks for your vote of confidence. Actually, I don’t have much of anything left. It feels sort of odd to think of it that way, but it’s true. Everything I had was Cynthia’s.”

  “I didn’t think about that. You lost it all in the crash, didn’t you? How terrible. How are you getting home?”

  “I’m going to have my aunt wire me money for a bus ticket. Given I’ve been declared dead, she’s the only one with access to my accounts.”

  Pauline’s hand reached out to rest on Adrienne’s knee. “I want to do something for you.”

  Surprised, Adrienne turned to the older woman and shook her head. “No, you’ve done enough for me. That party had to cost you a fortune.”

  “Nonsense. I want to help you get home, and I won’t take no for an answer. If you insist on the bus, so b
e it, but the train runs from Penn Station to Chicago and up to Milwaukee. I figure you’re probably not interested in flying, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to buy a ticket for you.”

  “I can’t accept that. I feel like I’ve already taken advantage of everyone in Cynthia’s life. I wouldn’t feel right taking anything else.”

  Pauline turned to her purse, reached inside and pulled out her cell phone. Before Adrienne could argue, she purchased a one-way ticket in a roomette for departure the following day. After she hung up, she looked at Adrienne with a smile. “The ticket will be waiting for you at the ticket counter tomorrow. The train departs at three forty-five in the afternoon.”

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  “I do what I want to, dear.”

  She certainly couldn’t argue with that and frankly didn’t want to despite her protests. Three days of buses and sleeping in terminals was not her ideal trip. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “You brought light into all our lives. Even Will’s. I know he’s taken all this pretty hard. I’m sorry if he’s been a little standoffish. But he was happier with you these past few weeks than I’d seen him in years. Watching you two dance at the party, I was certain he was in love with you. I’ll be the first to admit you were a better match for him than my daughter. Maybe once the shock wears off, he’ll realize he loves you the person, not the name.”

  Adrienne tried to look embarrassed by her words, but inside she was really fighting back tears. She didn’t dare leave herself the hope of Will changing his mind. How could this woman understand the situation so completely when Will, the man she loved, adamantly refused? His stubborn, suspicious streak had cost them a chance at real happiness.

  The car pulled up to the curb and Henry got out to open the door for Adrienne.

  “Call us when you get home safely. I expect to hear from you at least once a month so I know you’re not in some kind of trouble. That was my rule with Cynthia, and now it’s my rule with you.”