There was a pause before he added, “Knowing you weren’t anywhere near the blast changes everything about this case.
“Obviously someone wanted it to look like you died at LeBaron’s hands. Maybe LeBaron was so convinced something was wrong, he decided to get rid of you himself. It’s possible he’s alive somewhere and believes he’s committed the perfect crime.”
Her fingers tortured the belt of her robe as she tried to comprehend what he was telling her.
“Even if he didn’t have a knowledge of explosives, in his business he could’ve hired someone who knew exactly what he was doing in order to blow up the plant that way. It took an expert to make the blast powerful enough to obliterate bodies.
“But if LeBaron wasn’t the culprit, then whoever masterminded this plot was very cunning.”
Susan moved closer to him. “In what way?”
“First they had to tranquilize or kill the dogs before placing the explosives. Yet no matter how carefully something’s planned, things can always go wrong. The greatest bomb expert in the world couldn’t be certain the blast would kill you—not if you and LeBaron happened to move away from the bombs at the wrong moment.
“For instance, you might’ve used the rest room, or walked outside for some unknown reason.
“Whatever the case, this criminal wasn’t willing to take any chances. He purposely left your cars there, knowing the rescue people would believe you were inside the plant when it blew up.
“In the meantime, he took you and LeBaron to the desert to be killed. Maybe LeBaron wasn’t as fortunate as you and is lying dead somewhere out there.”
When she happened to glance at her husband, his eyes had darkened until their hazel color was barely visible.
“Of course, there’s the remote possibility that you were the victim of a crime totally unassociated with the explosion. That would mean two separate crimes were being committed at the same time.
“It’s conceivable that an assailant followed you to the plant and kidnapped you from your car. If LeBaron was inside his office, he wouldn’t have had any idea that you’d been dragged off to a nearby reservation.”
The working of his mind chilled and fascinated her.
“Your attacker could’ve been a pervert looking for a woman to rape that morning and you happened to be his unlucky victim. But there’s a problem with that theory because LeBaron’s body was never found.
“Unless, of course, he too was attacked, and you were both taken out to the desert for disposal.”
“I—I wasn’t raped,” she stammered. “The clinic on the reservation examined me. Except for the blow to my head, they said they could find no evidence of anything else.”
His chest rose and fell sharply. “Thank God for that.”
“I did.” Her voice shook. “Over and over again.”
“What you’ve just told me has helped eliminate one possibility. I’m beginning to think your work on the Drummond account made you a target. But unlike the culprit’s first victim, you’re not dead.”
“What do you mean, first victim?”
“David Beck, the accountant you replaced at the Lytie firm. I’m not so certain the accident that took his life wasn’t planned. He’d been working on that account before you acquired it.
“If he’d found something wrong and started asking questions, the culprit might’ve had so much at stake, he felt he didn’t have any choice but to wipe out Beck. When you were hired to pick up where Beck had left off, that placed you in jeopardy.”
Susan had to admit his theory was sound. “Did I ever tell you I’d discovered discrepancies?”
“No. You didn’t discuss that account with me.”
“Why? After telling you about Mr. LeBaron, I’d assume I talked over all my business with you.”
“I have to admit it was uncharacteristic of you.”
His voice had gone so quiet, she had to know why.
“Maybe I shouldn’t ask this next question, but if we’re not honest with each other, it’s going to make things more difficult than they already are.”
“I agree.”
“Why did I go to work in the first place? With such a beautiful home, I can’t believe we needed the money.”
His unsmiling glance flicked to hers. “We didn’t. Between my salary and the investments we made with the sale of my grandparents’ home, we had no money worries.”
“Why do I get the feeling you weren’t happy about my decision?”
“The idea of your going to work never bothered me. If a job would bring you pleasure, then I was behind you a hundred percent.”
“But…”
He stared at her for a long moment. “One morning at breakfast you told us you’d already applied for an accountant’s position at the Lytie Group and been accepted. It was the first I’d heard of it.”
“So it came as a complete surprise.”
“Yes.”
“Did I have a habit of presenting things as a fait accompli rather than talking them over with you first?”
Even from the short distance separating them, she could feel his body tense.
“No. It was the one and only time in our lives. Later I learned from Brett that you’d already discussed it with him.”
“That must have hurt you a lot.”
“You meant no offense,” he said. “Your nature is such that you wouldn’t knowingly injure anyone. According to our son, you wanted to prove you could earn an adequate living in case anything ever happened to me.
“For Brett’s sake you were very careful to say you’d probably do most of your work at home. If you had to go into the office, it would only be while he was at school.”
She looked away. “Did my decision affect—I mean, were we…?”
“Intimate after that?” He supplied what she couldn’t say. “Yes. Maybe even more so.”
But he was still holding something back. Something she could feel. Whatever it was, the hurt had gone bone-deep.
“I wish I could remember so I could explain my actions,” she whispered.
“Right now I’m so thankful you’re alive, none of that matters. The important thing here is that whoever tried to kill you is still running around loose. But not for long.”
What made his vow sound so deadly was the fact that it wasn’t just her husband talking. She was married to a police detective whose only business was to track down hardened criminals and arrest them.
She shuddered because she knew he was willing to put himself in grave danger for her sake.
He must have noticed because he said, “I’m sorry to have burdened you with all this tonight. But I wanted you to understand how complicated and dangerous the situation is.”
“You’ve convinced me.”
“Then we’ll talk more in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”
“Wait,” she called to him after he’d put the chair back and was ready to leave the bedroom.
He paused at the door.
“I haven’t even thanked you yet. I hardly know where to begin. It still feels like I’m in a dream, that nothing’s real. Please forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. How could there be?” he asked sharply. “You’ve been living a nightmare.”
“So have you.”
“I didn’t lose my memory. You must feel very helpless. Under the circumstances, I admire your courage in getting a job at the Etoile and making new friends.”
“Please don’t give me any credit. You do what you have to in order to survive, and I had a lot of help.”
“Susan? I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. After seventeen years, I find it impossible to call you Martha.”
“I want you to call me by my real name,” she assured him. “It’ll help me get used to it.”
“Then call me Grady. I need to hear it.”
I know you do.
She nodded.
“Do you think you’d be up to a drive out to the reservation tomorrow afternoon?”
> “Yes!”
“I want to meet the Benns and take a look around. It might also jog your memory.”
“I’d give anything in the world to have it back….”
“So would I.” His whisper sounded husky. “Then it’s settled about tomorrow.”
“Yes. I’d like to do something really wonderful for them, but I don’t know if they’d accept it.”
“We could pick up some candy and a fruit basket for starters.”
“And some flowers?”
“Good idea. After we get out there, we’ll determine what else we could do that would be of real use to them.”
“They saved my life. There isn’t a way to really repay them.” She bit her lip. “Do I have any money of my own?”
“Yes. The money you earned was put in an interest-bearing account. I’d decided to leave it there for Brett’s future. Naturally it’s yours to do with as you please.
“However, if you’re thinking of getting the Benns something more substantial, rest assured I can more than afford to do whatever you have in mind without touching your savings.”
Her husband was a proud man. Had her decision to go to work—without discussing it with him—made him feel he wasn’t all things to her anymore? Was that it? She sensed there was a great deal he was concealing.
“Thank you, Grady,” she murmured.
“You already have.”
“The words don’t seem adequate. All I’m doing is taking.”
“No. This is your rightful home. You made it what it is today. No one ever worked harder to turn a house into a showplace. No son ever had a better mother. No husband ever had a better wife. We’ve missed you.”
The longing in his voice intensified her pain. She lowered her head. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember. What if I never do?” she cried in anguish.
“Then we’ll face that like we’ve done everything else in our lives.”
Her head came up. She stared at him. “Have there been a lot of things—to face, I mean?”
“Some.”
“Like what?”
“You got pregnant on our honeymoon. Two months before the birth, your father died of a massive heart attack in California. It hit your family hard, especially your mother.”
Susan suffered over her inability to remember anything at all.
“You were still mourning his death when you had our baby daughter a month later. It was a stillbirth due to a fatal heart condition.”
“No,” she whispered in shock.
“The doctor said it was a blessing in disguise. If she’d survived the delivery, she wouldn’t have lived more than a few weeks, but that was small consolation at the time.”
To lose a child must have been devastating! Such a tragedy had to be hard on her husband, too.
“When I brought you home from the hospital, your mother came to spend time with us. The two of you were able to comfort each other. After she went back to her house in Oceanside, we decided to look for property and build this house.
“We did a lot of the painting and landscaping ourselves. It was therapeutic for both of us. We tried for another baby, but your obstetrician felt the stress of my high-risk career probably prevented you from relaxing enough to get pregnant.
“So I went from being a street cop to a detective, where there was less chance of getting injured on the job. It was a move I’d been contemplating, anyway.”
Susan could hardly absorb it all. “It took three years before Brett came along?”
“Yes.”
She was almost afraid to ask the next question. “Did we try for any more children after that?”
“Yes, but before you could conceive, I got shot.”
She gasped. “Where?”
“It was only a flesh wound to my shoulder, but you were inconsolable for a long time and never got pregnant again.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more children.”
“Don’t say that!” he blurted angrily. “I don’t want to hear the word sorry again. We were completely happy with Brett. If we’d had more children, we would’ve welcomed them. But it didn’t take away our joy in him or each other.”
His fierce defense of their marriage made her wonder if he was trying to convince himself. Had she let her sorrow over her inability to conceive after Brett come between them? Maybe that was why she’d gone to work. Was that the reason he’d sounded so emotional just now?
“Have you stayed close to my family, Grady?”
He cleared his throat. “After the explosion, your mother, Muriel, came to live with us for the first month. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. Todd, your only sibling, has been to visit us three times since the memorial service.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirty-four, fifteen months younger than you. He’s married to Beverly. They have two girls. Lizzy’s seven. Karin is four.
“Brett’s closer than ever to his uncle Todd because he reminds him so much of you. You and your brother bear a strong resemblance to each other and possess a lot of the same mannerisms.”
How many nights had she lain awake in her bed at the apartment wondering about her past life? Learning all this background was almost overwhelming, yet now that they’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop asking questions.
“What about your family?”
“I was an only child, born and reared here in Las Vegas. My grandparents raised me after my parents were killed in a car accident when I was a small child. Brett would have loved them. Unfortunately my grandfather died of cancer in my teens.
“You and I met before pneumonia took my grandmother, who was bedridden, so you got to know her. After we made plans to get married, I suggested we start looking for an apartment. But you took me aside and said you’d overheard my grandmother offer us a home with her.
“Then you surprised me by saying you wanted to move in with her because she needed help and obviously adored me. Your willingness to sacrifice for her made me realize I’d fallen in love with an exceptional woman.
“We got married at the house so she could participate. There was a small reception afterward. About a week later, we drove to California for another reception at your parents’ home. You got your college credits transferred to the University of Nevada at Las Vegas. Once you finished up your accounting degree, you obtained your CPA license.
“I urged you to get a job if you wanted, but at the time you insisted you preferred to stay home and take care of me and my grandmother. You said and did all the things that made this man ecstatically happy.”
Until thirteen months ago…
“It doesn’t seem possible that I can’t remember any of this. Thank you for answering so many questions. It’s helped me get my bearings.”
“I’ve probably said too much. For that, I apologize. Good night, Susan.”
“Good night.”
“DAD?”
Grady rolled over on his back. He’d barely left his wife’s room and had been expecting a visit from his son. It didn’t appear that anyone in this house was going to get much sleep tonight.
“Shut the door and lie down with me.”
Brett made his way through the dark to stretch out on top of the king-size bed. His deep sigh wasn’t long in coming.
“You know that documentary I saw?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t really believe there was such a thing as amnesia.” Brett began to cry.
“I know.” Grady reached out to rub his shoulder.
“It’s worse than bringing a stranger in off the streets,” Brett said between sobs.
Grady murmured reassurance, meaningless though it was.
“When I said good-night to her—to my mother— s-she just stood there at the bedroom door, like she couldn’t wait for me to l-leave.”
Moisture beaded Grady’s eyelashes as he held Brett for a moment.
“I couldn’t figure out why losing your m-memory would make the soldiers and their families not w-want
to be together. I didn’t u-understand.”
Grady rocked him in his arms. Even though he’d seen accident victims who suffered temporary memory loss, he wasn’t any better prepared to handle this situation than his son.
“If she never remembers us, then I want her to go away,” Brett said in a strangled tone.
Part of Grady felt the same way. All he could do was hold his son tighter while they both tried to deal with their individual pain. It didn’t help that the sobs he’d heard from the guest bedroom as he closed the door revealed that she was in the same state of agony.
He’d insisted on calling her Susan, yet it meant nothing to her. He meant nothing to her. How well he understood his son’s anguish.
“Can I stay in here tonight?”
“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else,” Grady whispered. They needed each other now more than ever.
His body felt like lead. It took all his strength to turn away from Brett while praying oblivion would end their pain for tonight.
In a few minutes, he felt his son get under the covers. “Dad? I don’t think we should tell Uncle Todd and Grandma yet. It would kill them.”
In one night, his son had been forced to grow up in as brutal a fashion as Grady could imagine. He decided it was time for Brett to hear all of the truth. Grady needed his son’s cooperation, because their family was in danger.
“Brett?” he said, turning back to lift himself on one elbow.
“Yes?”
“What I’m going to say now can’t go beyond this room.”
His son turned toward him. “If you’re going to tell me somebody tried to kill Mom, I already figured it out.”
Grady shook his head. “How come you’re so smart?”
“That’s not it. About a week after the memorial service, I heard you on the phone with Detective Ross. You told him you didn’t believe Mr. LeBaron set those bombs. So I realized someone else did.”
Grady’s head fell back against the pillow. “I’m sorry you happened to overhear that conversation. I’m even sorrier I was in such a bad way that you couldn’t have talked to me about it. Instead you’ve had to hold in all your fears. I was wrong, Brett. When you needed me most, I failed you.”
“No, you didn’t, Dad.” His earnestness touched Grady. “I knew how much you loved Mom. In the beginning I was angry, but not at you.”
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