by Alice Sharpe
“What kind of odd jobs?”
“Once she painted a mural on the side of an office building and once she walked dogs and house-sat. She also taught a few classes at the junior college and volunteered at an old folks’ home. Stuff like that.”
Eleanor smiled. “She sounds nice. What happened, you know, between you two?” As he looked away from her face, she chided herself and added, “I’m sorry. That was way too personal. I don’t remember anything about myself, so maybe that’s why I’m so caught up in hearing about this woman you’re describing. Don’t tell me any more, it’s none of my business.”
He opened his mouth, seemed to think better, and closed it. “How long are you staying here, Eleanor?”
“Until tomorrow,” she said. “Carl insisted we stay through today.”
“Then where are you headed? Home?”
“I wish,” she said.
“You sound homesick. Been away long?”
“How do I know?” she said, turning beseeching eyes on him. “I don’t know for sure when we left home or even exactly where home is except for the address on my driver’s license.”
“You don’t remember anything about it?”
“No. The address on my husband’s license is different from mine. When I asked him why, he told me we’ve moved recently. That’s all he’ll say.”
“If you want to go home so badly, why don’t you?”
“Because the doctor said we should stay away until my memory returns. Carl won’t tell me anything about myself. He says it’s supposed to come back naturally.”
“Makes it kind of hard for you, doesn’t it?” he said.
“I feel lost.”
“I bet you do,” he said, his gaze once again holding hers.
“How about you?” she said softly.
“I’m not sure about my plans, either.” His gaze swiveled to the doors again, and he got to his feet quickly. “I see your husband stomping across the parking lot. He looks pretty angry.”
“I’m beginning to think he’s angry quite often,” she said, instantly awash in guilt. She added, “He’s taking very good care of me. It can’t be much fun for him.”
“You underestimate yourself,” he said, and then as Carl pushed his way through the front doors, the man with the gray eyes disappeared toward the elevators.
Simon was right. Carl looked mad enough to kill someone.
Chapter Three
“So you agree she shouldn’t be told she’s pregnant?”
On the other end of the line, his cousin Virginia, a practicing psychologist in Chicago, paused for a second before saying, “Without knowing the specifics of her case, I don’t know what to think. In associational therapy, the patient is exposed to familiar surroundings in hopes it stimulates the brain’s neural synapses. Isolation from personal recollections seems counterintuitive, but if you know she’s pregnant and sense trouble in her marriage—”
“If there is a marriage,” Simon interjected.
“You said your partner on the force is checking into that, right?”
“Not my partner, no. I can’t get Mike into a compromising position on the off chance Ella did something illegal before she left Blue Mountain.” Or since then, for that matter….
“Then who did you call?”
“A private investigator I worked with a few years back.”
“You’re sure Ella isn’t faking amnesia?”
“I’m positive. The only way the woman I know could react to things the way this woman does is if she wasn’t aware of herself or her past. She’s not faking.”
“Okay. So, for now, all you know is she’s with a man who was able to convince the police and the hospital he’s her husband, which means he either planned her abduction very carefully or he is her husband—”
“In which case there is no mystery, just me jumping to conclusions,” Simon finished for her. And yet her husband had told Ella they’d just moved to Blue Mountain, which was a lie. Ella had lived there for at least two or three years.
Virginia cleared her throat. “Didn’t your mother tell me you and Ella were no longer a couple? In fact, you broke up with her just a week or so ago, didn’t you?”
Simon stared out at the ocean and sighed. “Well, I guess you could say I broke up with her. She’d gotten even more secretive than usual and we had some words and I realized it was over.”
“So maybe what you’re feeling is guilt mixed with anger,” she said softly.
“Huh?”
“Guilt for rejecting her. Then you find she has a husband all along and so really, she’s the one who rejected you. That’s why she wouldn’t talk about her past and why you felt shut out of her life. Hence the anger.”
“My mother has a big mouth.”
“She talks to my mom, you know how it is.”
He glowered at the moon sparkling over the sea and didn’t respond. Spending the night staking out the parking lot wasn’t his idea of a good time, but he figured it would serve a couple of purposes, and face it, he was anxious to get this settled in his mind and go home.
Home. “Ginny, do you think I should tell Ella who I am and ask her if she wants to come back with me? Give her a choice?”
“No. I can’t advise distressing her when she’s so lost already. Don’t do anything to alarm her or frighten her. Listen, do you want me to call the admitting hospital and see if I can find out anything about her condition?”
“Will they talk to you?”
“I’ll give it a try. I might know someone here who knows someone there. Call me back tomorrow night about this time, okay? Her name is Eleanor Baxter, right?”
“Yeah. Middle name Ann. Thanks, Ginny.”
“Just be careful.”
“Careful? Careful of what?”
“Think about it, coz,” she said, and rang off.
He pocketed his cell phone and tried to get comfortable. He was parked across the row and three cars down from the Baxter rental so he could easily keep an eye on it.
And then he did his best not to think about Ella, but that was almost impossible.
She was different and it wasn’t just the hair color. She was more open, as though not remembering her past had freed her from the burden of keeping it secret. She reminded him of the woman he’d fallen in love with, practically at first sight.
He got the feeling she wasn’t too happy about her husband. For that matter, neither was Simon, who had seen the bastard hand Ella that glass of wine. Ella didn’t know she was pregnant, but according to the wrecker’s wife, Carl did, so what was he doing giving a pregnant woman alcohol?
That was Simon’s baby she was carrying, and it pissed him off.
At least he thought it was his baby.
But she’d been hiding something for the past couple of weeks, something that had her edgy, nervous…
He switched positions. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get Ella alone again. The tire trick had worked once; it wouldn’t work again without arousing suspicion. The fact that Carl had insisted they continue this vacation and stay in Rocky Point made Simon curious. What if Carl had abducted Ella from her house in Blue Mountain? What if the accident had been just that—an accident? Had Carl pushed for her release from the hospital so they could make it to Rocky Point for some unknown reason? Or what if they were in something together but Ella couldn’t remember they were partners? Would that explain her changed appearance?
It all came down to her houselights blazing, the abandoned snow globe in the garage and his gut feeling.
No answers right now, maybe tomorrow. He’d watch them come out to the car in the morning. See if Ella, once out of the hotel, appeared to be in distress. If she did, he would call in the cops.
“Be careful,” Ginny had said.
To hell with that. Carl Baxter was the one who better be careful.
Using his pocket flashlight, he opened the paperback he’d bought in the hotel gift shop and prepared for a long night.
“LET’S ST
OP HERE for breakfast,” Carl said as he pulled into the deep unpaved parking lot belonging to a restaurant perched high above the ocean. A fog bank hovered out at sea, though the day had dawned clear but breezy. The few trees managing to cling to the bluff were shaped by the predominant winds.
“I’ll stay here, you go eat,” Eleanor said. “My stomach feels terrible. It must be that pill I take at night, the one for my head. I wake up every morning with a stomachache.”
“Then skip the pill tonight,” he said, reaching over to unbuckle her seat belt.
“Carl, I can’t eat.”
He looked at his watch, then at her. There was something different about him today, a tightening around his mouth and eyes. “How selfish can you get?” he snarled. “Do you think just because you can’t eat, I should starve?”
Startled, she drew away from him. “You could have ordered from room service.”
“I’m tired of room service. Come on, get out of the car, keep me company. We’ll get you some toast.”
She got out of the car, unsure why she allowed him to bully her. Was this what she was always like, or was this apathy because of her injuries? She hoped and prayed it was the latter, because the woman she was right now was a tiresome bore who had come to life only once since awakening and that was when she spoke with a stranger about his lost love.
How pathetic was that?
A bell tinkled as they opened the door. The restaurant was bigger inside than it had looked from the outside. Tables ringed the perimeter, which was fronted with glass and a panoramic view of the sea beyond.
Waitresses scurried with giant platters perched on their shoulders; others poured endless cups of coffee. A hostess led them to a table near the windows. Eleanor took a chair facing the door as the waitress handed them menus. “Coffee?” she asked.
“Just one cup,” Carl said. “The lady wants tea.”
As the waitress hurried off, Carl scooted his chair clear around the table so that he was facing the door, too. He said, “Now, aren’t you glad you came inside?”
She looked at the menu while taking shallow breaths. The place smelled like greasy seafood. Refusing to lie about her supposed joy at being talked into coming inside, she folded the menu. Carl looked up at the door, visibly tensing every time the bell announced a newcomer.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asked.
“Expecting? No. Why do you ask?”
“You keep staring at the door.”
“So what?” he said.
His attitude toward her had taken a marked change from the preceding days. No longer overly solicitous, he was directing his general impatience at her. Truth was, she almost preferred it.
The waitress arrived with two coffees. As Eleanor had no plans to drink tea or anything else, she didn’t comment on the mistake. Carl didn’t seem to notice. “Crab omelet is our special today,” the waitress chirped.
“That’s fine,” Carl said absently, twisting a little as a bell announced a family scurrying in out of the wind.
“Nothing for me,” Eleanor said.
“Bring her unbuttered toast,” Carl said.
The family was seated a table or two away while a man in a green baseball cap with his nose buried in a blue-and-white handkerchief took a seat at a table behind her. Carl finally noticed her beverage. “They brought you coffee? Why didn’t you say something? Where is that stupid waitress?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she assured him. His nerves were beginning to get to her, too. Trying to soothe him, she looked around and added, “This is a nice restaurant. Maybe we could come back tonight and have dinner here.”
“I suspect we’ll be long gone before that,” he said absently, tensing as the bell rang over the door again.
A different waitress appeared with a tray holding a tall stack of pancakes and a pitcher of syrup. As she started to lower the tray, Carl put up a hand. “I didn’t order pancakes,” he barked. “You’ve got the wrong table.”
The tray tilted precariously as the waitress attempted to check the ticket buried in her apron pocket. Carl yelled at her, and she jerked. With a clatter, the plate slid right off the platter and landed in Carl’s lap. The pitcher of syrup followed.
Carl stood abruptly, his face as red as a boiled Dungeness crab.
The waitress immediately began apologizing and dabbing at Carl with a napkin.
“You clumsy oaf,” Carl sputtered, pushing her away.
“Sir, breakfast will be on us, of course.”
“It’s already on me!” he said, lifting his sticky hands. “Damn, I’ve got to go to the restroom and try to fix this.” His gaze went from his watch to the door to Eleanor. “Stay here. I’ll be back in two minutes.” He stomped off without waiting for a reply.
SIMON, NURSING A CUP of coffee and hiding behind a menu, watched the incident at Ella’s table with interest. He was willing to bet a week’s pay the waitress purposely dumped the food on Carl Baxter.
Why?
That question was at least partially answered a moment later when an Albert Einstein look-alike slid into the chair across from Ella. As the waitress shuffled off with the spilt food and dishes, Simon carefully shifted position to sit directly behind Ella in order to eavesdrop.
“Good, you made it,” the old guy said, his voice raspy. “Sorry about the mess with your friend, but I wanted to talk to you alone.”
Eleanor said, “I’m sorry, but—”
“Do you know anything about Jerry? Last anyone heard from him was the day he came to see you.”
“I don’t—”
“Never mind, Jerry is clever, he can take care of himself. What’s important is you. I’m real sorry about your brother. Oh, I know it’s been months since his death, but I still remember him as a cute kid with a real gung ho attitude. Tragic thing to die so young.”
Ella had a brother? This was news to Simon, who cursed his decision not to run a check on her background when he had had the chance.
“Okay, I’m stalling and we don’t have much time,” the old man continued. “Like Jerry told you, your dad set up this roundabout way of getting word to you to protect you and him. Jerry got you this far. My job is to tell you about the next stop. Go north to a suburb of Seattle named Tampoo. Be at the bus depot tomorrow right at noon. We all know what you look like. Come alone next time, okay?”
“I don’t—”
“Listen, honey, there’s a lot to explain, but don’t ask me, I’m just a link in the chain. You need to ask your old man. You be careful now, it’s likely to get dangerous before the end.” The old guy looked up just then and after quietly patting the table three times with his fingertips, he got to his feet. “Don’t let your father down,” he said, and quickly faded into the shadows toward the kitchen.
Ella hadn’t seen a man come out of the bathroom and pull on his ear, but Simon had. That was a signal if he’d ever seen one, and it was followed within seconds by the appearance of Carl Baxter, a determined glint in his eyes and water spots on his clothes. Simon dived behind the menu again.
There was no time to trail the old man; he had to stay and hear what Ella said to Carl about this visit. His hope was she would say nothing.
“The strangest thing just happened,” Ella said as another waitress arrived with a plate of eggs she set in front of Carl and toast she placed in front of Ella.
Worried Carl would start looking at the door again and notice Simon’s interest in him, Simon turned his back completely, staring out at the sea and the encroaching fog. He heard Carl say, “What? What happened?”
“An old man sat down and spoke with me. He said something about my father.”
“What did you say to him?” Carl asked, his voice fast and higher pitched than before.
“Nothing. I mean, what could I say?”
“The man must have mistaken you for someone else. Maybe he’s a nutcase.”
“Maybe,” Ella said, “but he implied he had something to do with the food being spilled on you.”
The bell on the door chimed and Simon glanced over his shoulder to get Carl’s reaction. Carl didn’t even look up. Instead he said, “Tell me what the old guy said.”
Don’t tell him anything, Simon chanted to himself.
“Well, he told me my father needed me. I thought you told me all my family was dead.”
“He’s a nutcase, just as I thought.” A brief pause was followed by “So, did the old guy mention a city and a time?”
“Yes. Tampoo, Washington, tomorrow at noon. At a bus depot. He said someone would meet me. He said I should go alone. What does that mean?”
“How would I know?” Carl said with a clatter of silverware. “You’re not eating, and I’m not hungry anymore. Let’s get out of here.”
Ella’s voice was very calm as she said, “What’s going on, Carl? How did you know he mentioned going to another city?”
“I didn’t, you just told me.”
“No, you asked. It’s a strange question. I may not remember who I am, but I didn’t suddenly get stupid.”
“Just put your coat on. I’ll explain in the car.”
Simon heard chairs slide and watched as Ella stalked out of the restaurant. Carl stood by the cash register, glancing repeatedly outside as though afraid Ella would fly away. When no waitress appeared to take his money, he tossed a few bills on the counter and left. He’d apparently forgotten the waitress promised him a free meal.
Simon slapped a couple of dollars next to his empty coffee mug and followed, pulling on his cap, unsure how to proceed. If he’d been confused before, he was downright flummoxed now, but he also sensed Ella might be in danger from this man as she began to suspect his motives.
Ginny had said don’t alarm Ella, don’t frighten her. How was he supposed to get her away from Carl if he couldn’t even talk to her?
He exited the restaurant with his head down so Ella wouldn’t notice him. A quick glance, however, revealed that she’d made it to their car, which was parked close to the bluff. She stood with her back to the restaurant and to Carl’s approach, arms linked across her chest, one hip thrust forward, her short, dark hair barely moving despite the strong wind. A lilac-colored coat flapped around her hips.