Forget Me Not

by Lee Boschen

  "Sir, please."

  When his secretary had come into the office, Leslie shut the door and painfully undressed to her bra and panties. Then she did a slow pirouette to show the beating she had taken, exposing every livid bruise. New marks, bright and purple, crowded older, yellowing bruises. The room was so quiet she could hear Meriwether's Rolex ticking. At last the old man spoke, his voice calm, revealing nothing. “Get dressed now, please, Leslie."

  When she had finished, he asked. “Your husband?"

  "Yes. Yesterday."

  "I see he didn't strike you in the face. Nor where he would hurt the child."

  "He knew I couldn't cover up marks on my face. And I turned away so he couldn't hit the baby."

  "So he beat you on your back.” The secretary's voice trembled with rage.

  "Elsie, my dear. Please." Meriwether tried to calm his secretary of thirty years.

  "But look at her," Elsie shouted. “Look what he did to her."

  "Elsie, we have a lot to do, and we need you to have a cool head. Now listen to me—you are not to allow Leslie out of your sight until we have everything done. No matter who sees her, I want you by her side. Is that clear?"

  Receiving a tight-lipped nod, he continued. “We'll get Arnold Bridenstine to handle the divorce, and I—” Meriwether tapped his chest. “I will handle the personal injury. Get the photographer in here, the one we use for personal injury cases. You know the one, Elsie. And, Elsie, call a doctor. Then get your pad and get ready to take depositions from Leslie and the doctor."

  The muscles bunched in Richard's jaws as he listened to her story, and he knotted his fists hard where they lay on the table. “Damned savage. Beating a woman. He belongs in a cage."

  Leslie continued as if he hadn't interrupted. “Alex Wright made a fearsome enemy in Harry Meriwether,” she said. “We were divorced, of course. Alex lost every way he could. He lied and got caught. He tried to bribe and got caught. It cost him a fortune to get out of that. Not that it mattered, money was nothing to him. Sometimes I think he has all the money in the world."

  She sighed. “He denied that the baby was his, and claimed I'd had a lover. When Coleen was born, DNA tests proved him wrong there too. In the end he had to pay me an enormous sum of money. It's still in the bank. For Coleen, though she doesn't know about it.” Leslie fixed her eyes on Richard's. “It was after that, Richard, when Alex made his threat. He told me that I was his, his property, that he had bought and paid for me. He said that if I wasn't going to live with him, then I had to live alone. Or he would kill my lover."

  Richard's eyebrows climbed at that. “Your lover?"

  She raised her chin proudly. “I've never had a lover. But even a man who's friendly is in danger. Alex doesn't want that. So I warn men away, as I'm warning you away. I've learned to say no, because I daren't say yes.” She drew a deep breath. “I'm in a solitary prison, Richard, but the emotion that surges up inside me sometimes isn't despair, or fear. It's anger. I chafe against a feeling of—it's as if I were wearing his collar."

  She gazed down at her hands, her knuckles white as she clenched them in frustration. Fiercely, she added, “For a long time it was endurable. I knew I wasn't in any danger as long as Alex knew I was ‘behaving.’ But more and more, as I see my life slipping away, I want to get out of that collar. Every day it chafes a little more."

  She fell silent, her eyes downcast. After a moment she picked up her cup and sipped at the coffee. Grimacing at the taste, she pushed it away, raised her eyes to his and sighed deeply. “The danger to you is real. As it was to the two men who wouldn't listen to me when I said no. I can't even marry again. According to Alex, our divorce doesn't count. If I were to marry again, he would consider my husband my lover."

  Richard scowled. “How does he get away with making threats like that?"

  She lifted a shoulder. “Simple, he does it when no one can see or hear but me. And I don't want you to get the idea that I'm being noble in warning you. It's not just for your sake. You see, after he killed the second man, he told me that next time I'd strike out. The next time he would kill me, and my lover, and end it forever. Oh, yes, he told me Coleen would have to go too. ‘A clean sweep,’ he said.” She laughed, a sharp, humorless sound, like a bark. “That was four years ago. To make sure I won't forget, he calls me every once in a while to remind me to be careful. ‘Lest I have an accident,’ he says. Yes, there's a court order forbidding him to call me, but—” Another shrug. “And sometimes he follows me. Spot checking, he calls it. The court order forbids that, too, but he does it anyway, and he always makes sure I see him at least once. Richard, I couldn't swear that he isn't watching us right now."

  Richard's mouth turned down. “Surely there's something you can do to get him off your back,” he said. “What if you prove, say, that he's following you? Or calling you?"

  Leslie shook her head slowly. “I thought of hiring a detective to follow him, to prove that he's been violating the court order. But with Alex's money, and his lawyers, he'd get off with a warning. Or probation.” Her mouth twisted angrily. “And then, in a couple of weeks, I'd have my ‘accident.’ Or Coleen would disappear, and he'd call me and tell me all about it. How would I handle that, knowing but not being able to prove a thing?"

  She sighed deeply. “Sometimes I just want to go after him. To shoot him in his black heart."

  Another deep sigh. She spread her hands. “That's it. Now you know it all. Yes, I do have an interest in you. I sat watching you sleep last night, and I was happy for you because you were alive. And, yes, happy for myself, too, for my part in keeping you alive. But, Richard, if it goes any further, we may both die.” Her eyes dropped to study her hands, rose again to meet his. “I don't ever want anything bad to happen to you."

  Richard was silent for a long moment. “I guess you've heard the saying,” he said at last. “'Caught between a rock and a hard place.’ Both of us. In jeopardy.” His gaze wandered intently over her face.

  He was going to say good bye, she thought. He was going to tell her he didn't need this kind of trouble added to his other problems.

  "If I go away,” he said, “you'll be safe, won't you?"

  She had to swallow hard to get down the knot of disappointment that stuck in her throat. She had been hoping that somehow ... Still, it was better this way. She nodded. “Yes, as long as it suits Alex."

  "Or until he finds out about this. Then you're in for it, aren't you."

  "Finds out about it? How could he do that? Nobody knows but us, and we'd be foolish to link our names for him to read or see."

  "Nobody knows? What about the doctor who sewed me up? Could he have mentioned it to a colleague? Or maybe a reporter came around looking for something a little out of the ordinary? Or somebody in the Trauma Center—could they have casually mentioned the amnesia case to a friend. Who else, Leslie?"

  Leslie crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself at the sudden chill of fear. “But we haven't done anything for him to—"

  "Hold on, Leslie. From what I've heard you saying, Alex Wright isn't going to care too much one way or the other if he's got it right. Am I wrong there, do you think?"

  She closed her eyes for an instant, then shook her head. “No, you're not wrong."

  Richard clasped his hands together, bending his head as though he was praying, his lips pressing against his fingers. Finally he straightened. “This is weird. Just think, twenty-four hours ago I was going about my life like ... like a normal person.” His gesture included everyone in the coffee shop. “Like these people. Now that's over. Someone I don't know has stolen my memory and tried to kill me. Because of you, I'm still alive. And you? Your ex-husband has you in a vise, and he's squeezing the life out of you. I can see it in your face."

  He drew a deep breath and held it, finally letting it gust out. “Maybe I'd see this differently if I had all my marbles,” he said, “but it looks to me like we've got to work our way out of this by ourselves."

  We,
she thought. Could it be? Her eyes burned, and she looked down quickly so he wouldn't see. “Yeah, sure. And just how do you propose to do that?"

  "Leslie, do you realize that right now you're the only human being on this planet that I trust without any reservations?"

  His words warmed her deep inside. “Mm-m."

  "If we don't get ourselves out of this, who can we trust to do it for us?"

  She shook her head. There wasn't anyone else, and she knew it. “No one. Not really."

  "So it's up to us, you and me, isn't it? We have to work together. Do you agree with that?"

  Suddenly wary, she looked at him. “You've got something in your mind, haven't you, and you're setting me up because it's something I'm not going to like."

  "Yes."

  The silence between them lengthened. “What is it?"

  "An idea, really."

  "Spell it out, Richard."

  He drew a deep breath. “It's dangerous."

  "More dangerous than doing nothing?"

  "I say ... let's attract the lightning. Let's bring the devil we know, your Alex, to where we can end his threat. Then we can begin to work on the guys who threw me into your ditch."

  Her jaw dropped. “Alex? You want to bring Alex here? You must be out of your mind."

  "Not here. To your place, on ground we know. At least, ground you know better than he, and which I can learn quickly."

  "I know you meant my place, but—"

  "You don't like the idea."

  "You're damned right I don't like the idea."

  He shrugged. “Okay."

  Leslie's mind whirled with the problems in what Richard had proposed. Obviously, he didn't understand how deadly Alex was. “Haven't you been listening? Alex is dangerous."

  "I hear you.” He shrugged. “Okay, if you don't like my idea..."

  She spoke softly, deadly earnest. “He's killed two men, and bragged to me about it."

  Richard stared vacantly out the window of the café. “I suppose actually we don't have to do anything. We can wait. Maybe he won't hear about my having been here. And what the hell, even if he does hear, you can tell him that I was only here until you could get rid of me. Yeah, that's it, you could call him and explain—"

  Her eyes grew large. Her heart began to race at the thought of confronting her ex-husband. “Call Alex? Oh, no, I don't think—"

  "And he might even agree.” Richard's voice grew a edge. “At least long enough for him to pick the ground where we have our accidents."

  "This is stupid,” she said. “I'm not going to listen to any more of it.” She jumped to her feet and started out of the coffee shop.

  Richard started after her, but when he reached the exit, a burly man wearing a cook's apron reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

  "Haven't you forgotten something ... sir?"

  Richard tried to pull his arm free. “What do you mean, forgotten something? I haven't forgotten—oh, hell.” Looking out the door, he saw Leslie cutting across the courthouse square, heading for her car. “Leslie Carson,” he bellowed, “you get back here and pay this man for his coffee."

  The sound of his voice carried everywhere in the square. Leslie saw heads turning, everyone looking for Leslie Carson. She stopped, turning slowly to see Richard being held hostage for their coffee break. Gritting her teeth, she started retracing her steps, fumbling in her purse for her wallet. Standing by the door to the coffee shop, she counted out three one-dollar bills and handed them to the burly man.

  "I'll wait here for my change,” she said coolly, ignoring Richard completely.

  Neither spoke while the man rang up the sale and brought her change. She put the coins in her change purse, turned on her heel and started across the square to her car. It was only after she had unlocked the car door that she realized Richard hadn't followed her to the car. Looking back she saw him sitting on a bench, his arms stretched along the back, taking his ease. He wasn't looking her way.

  "Probably forgotten me already,” she muttered, and she got in her car and drove away.

  * * * *

  Across the square, Alex Wright sat in a dusty, nondescript car, watching the coffee shop entrance. He had followed as Leslie took the stranger to the hospital, then to the coffee shop. He'd been surprised when she led the stranger out of her house earlier that morning, because he hadn't seen the man enter her house. That was puzzling, because he'd been checking. Who was the guy that whoring bitch had taken up with?

  He nodded slowly. If you take him home with you again, you're dead, both of you. And you can't say I didn't warn you.

  She surprised him again when she left the stranger sitting on a park bench and drove away. That was disappointing. He thought he'd caught her at last. Now what?

  He settled comfortably into the car seat, checked his image in the mirror and moved a few hairs that had strayed.

  Better hang around. Keep an eye on the guy. It'd be just like the bitch to try to fake me out.

  Chapter Six

  Leslie's flight lasted four blocks before she pulled over to the side of the street and stopped her car. Her mind teemed with thoughts. Why was she even thinking of abandoning Richard? Was she trying to teach him a lesson? What lesson? Who was she to rebuke him? So maybe he really didn't understand how dangerous Alex was. Could she blame him? The story she told had to sound like a sick joke—Alex killing two men, and spot checking on her for all these years. And how could she expect Richard to believe she hadn't had other men during that time.

  And Alex wasn't the only problem. Sure, she'd warned Richard about the other threat, the men who'd put him in her ditch? Was that enough? Her mouth grew dry as she considered what might happen if, in his frustration, Richard went public to learn his identity? What would happen to him if she didn't help him now?

  "God help us,” she muttered finally. “The blind leading the blind.” She started the car, made a careful, illegal U-turn and drove back to the courthouse square.

  Richard still sat on the bench. Only now a woman and a young girl were sitting there too, and to judge from the gestures, the conversation between the three was more than casual. He's probably one of those people strangers tell their life story to, she thought sourly. He just nods and murmurs, and they remember him as one of the most interesting men they ever met.

  It was something of a shock to realize that she had just finished telling him her own story. He hadn't just nodded and murmured, though. Instead he had come up with that harebrained scheme of his. How could he imagine she would go along with it?

  She stayed in her car, not interrupting, not wanting to share him. When the woman's husband came by to pick up his family, Leslie saw Richard stand and shake hands with him. Then, to her dismay, the man squatted down in front of the bench and commenced another conversation with Richard. It seemed forever before the couple left, and even then the little girl appeared reluctant to go. Leslie smiled—he's good with children. Coleen will love him. Aghast at that implication, Leslie slumped back in her seat. How could she have such thoughts? She couldn't let this continue. She'd been right to drive away, the man was crazy ... and he was driving her crazy.

  She sat in her car, gripping the steering wheel for long, hard minutes while her mind whirled with conflicts. It would be dangerous, Alex was cruel and hard. But, oh, to be free of him. From deep within her, she summoned resolve.

  Yes, by God, I'll see this to its end. It's time.

  She walked up behind him, stood for an instant, then leaned over to put her mouth by his ear. “Are you angry with me?"

  He craned his neck to look up at her. “I thought I smelled Tea Rose. Didn't I see you drive away?"

  "Yes. I wanted to get away from you and your crazy plan."

  "Mm-m. Since you're here, would you like to share my bench?"

  "Thank you.” She sat down, carefully placing herself midway between him and the end of the bench. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. Neither did Richard, and the silence dragge
d on forever. Finally she cleared her throat and said, “What were you talking about with that couple and their child?"

  "I asked them what they'd do if they suddenly found themselves without their memory."

  Leslie gaped at him. He talks about it with strangers?

  "I told them I was a writer, and one of my characters, my hero in fact, had been knocked on the head and had lost his memory.” He turned to look at her. “The little girl—she's nine—she asked me why I didn't just have him knocked on the head again. Wasn't that supposed to bring back memories, she wanted to know."

  "Really? Do you suppose this is one of those times when one should say ‘out of the mouths of babes ... ?’”

  He scooted a little closer to her. “I had to tell her that I didn't think the doctor in the trauma center would approve of that. Besides, getting hit on the head is very painful."

  Leslie scooted closer to the end of the bench. “What did her parents say?"

  Richard inched toward her. “Her mother thought that the thing to do was to go to the police."

  Leslie retreated a little, and Richard moved closer, raising his arm to the back of the bench. Leslie moved to the very end of the bench. “Did you tell her how dangerous that approach might be to your hero?” she asked.

  A smooth little slide and he was touching her. She could feel the warmth of his thigh pressing against hers, disrupting her thinking. His arm looped around her shoulders.

  "Uh ... go to the police, is that what you want to do,” she asked.

  "It's where I was going next if you hadn't come back,” he said.

  Was it only because it was chilly that the heat of him felt so good? “Is there no other way?"

  "Her father said I'd have to consider whether the hero might have other problems besides his memory. Did he, he wanted to know."

  Leslie laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh? Very perceptive of him."

  He leaned his head gently against hers. “I told him how the hero had lost his memory."

  Her hand crept into his. “And he said...?” Their fingers intertwined tightly.

  He took a deep breath. “Remind me in case I forget, will you, that I'm supposed to kiss you sometime today."