by Lee Boschen
"I'll love you forever,” he murmured.
"Forever, my heart,” she whispered
Chapter Sixteen
It was scarcely dawn. They'd sneaked down to the kitchen and had breakfast without waking Coleen. It had been all excited whispers. Leslie had never felt more desired, more loved and, yes, more beautiful. His eyes told her that.
Finally, he pushed aside his breakfast coffee and leaned across the kitchen table toward her, smiling. “What name do you want to use after we're married?"
Her eyes were sparkling. “Wait till you see the lovely red negligee I bought for my husband,” she whispered.
Richard raised his eyebrows. “For your husband?"
"It's in my dream closet. It has dozens of buttons down the front, and you could read the classified ads through it without any trouble at all."
He licked suddenly dry lips. “Yeah, but ... for your husband?"
"He gets to take it off of me on my wedding night."
Richard's forehead beaded with sweat at the image that rose in his mind. He cleared his throat. “Mm-m,” he said.
Leslie sighed. “Would you like me to be Mrs. Webb? Mrs. Leslie Carson Webb?"
"I like the sound of it,” he said. “If it's all right with you."
"It's beautiful.” Her voice broke.
"No,” he said. “It's only beautiful because it's you."
Leslie reached across the table and took his hand. “You are the most delightful man,” she said. “I love everything about you."
"This is incredible,” he said. “That I should be sitting across the table from this extraordinary woman who's agreed to marry me only eleven days after pulling me out of a ditch."
She nodded. “I keep wanting to pinch myself."
"What do you want from your husband?"
Her face became solemn. “All the things I've never had. Love. Affection. Trust. Faith. Understanding. Love. Knowing when to shut up. Knowing when not to.” Her voice began to quaver and she started to cry. “Love. Affection. Knowing when to take me in his arms and kiss me—"
"Like now,” he said, sidling around the table to put his arms around her.
"Like then,” she agreed after a while. In a moment she said, “What will you ask of me?"
He was still for so long that she thought perhaps he hadn't heard, but then he answered. “Only three things, sweetheart. I'll need you to cut me a little slack from time to time when I screw up, and I will. I need a cheerful smile in the morning. And we talk every day—I never want the sun to set on a quarrel between us."
She stared at him. “You've thought about this, haven't you?” She shook her head doubtfully. “I can be pretty grouchy in the morning."
"I never said it would be easy."
"Are you really going to screw up?"
"Bound to. But if I were perfect, you wouldn't be able to stand me."
"Yes,” she murmured, “two of us in the same household would be a bit much, wouldn't it."
He brought her down to earth with a thump. “Go make yourself irresistible. This is going to be a busy morning. After we get married—” He stopped. “I can hardly believe I've been so incredibly lucky. I feel like a guy with twenty-five cents to his name, not even sure that I should walk into the casino. But I do, and I drop my quarter in the slot and pull the lever, and—wham, I hit the jackpot."
"Jackpot? Oh, Richard, how can you even think such a thing? You've lost your memory, somebody wants to kill you, and you don't know a thing about me. That's some jackpot."
He smiled at her. “My memory loss is probably only temporary. You heard the doctor. Don't tell your mother this, but I'll admit it scares me that somebody wants to kill me. But it all goes away when I think ... you love me.” He gave an enormous gusting sigh. “But then we've got to pick up the Kimberly's Christmas card. Then I'd like your help in locating that brick wall."
* * * *
"...let him speak now or forever hold his peace."
In Judge Grover's chambers, watching Richard's eyes linger on her mother, it seemed to Leslie as though he was daring June Carson to object. It's all right, darling, she's happy for us. After a few seconds—an eternity of deathly silence, everyone reluctant even to clear his or her throat lest it be misinterpreted—the judge continued.
"Richard, wilt thou take this woman to be thy wedded wife?"
Nothing like an unplanned wedding, Leslie thought. Yet she didn't want to forget a single thing—the confusion, trying to find the county clerk's office to get the wedding license, the sudden realization that they'd forgotten rings, going to get Janine Waters and George Nelson to act as witnesses, and George to be Richard's best man. And Coleen, thrilled to be asked to carry Richard's ring. It just fit on her thumb. If it hadn't been for Coleen's asking why Grams wasn't coming, Leslie was sure they'd have forgotten to drive out to Lockerbie Square and get her mom.
Never mind, they'd all laugh at such things later.
Maybe we can do it all again when dad comes home from the Near East.
"I will,” Richard said.
Richard's hand as he held hers was steady as a rock, his face calm. It would be easy, she thought, to look at him and believe he was calm because he was unfeeling, but she remembered the tender passion of his lovemaking, and remembered, too, the terrible anger on his face when Alex had come to kill her. Oh, no, my hero, you're—
"Leslie, wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband?"
Oh, yes, to love and honor and cherish for all the days of their lives. The deepest wellspring of Leslie's emotions overflowed, and Richard reached hurriedly into his jacket to bring out a handkerchief to blot the tears slowly gliding down her cheeks. Her smile trembled on her lips as her eyes met his.
The judge had stopped as Richard did this and Richard glanced at him in apology, only to find him smiling in approval. On seeing Richard's glance he hastily reordered his features into proper solemnity.
"Repeat after me. ‘I, Leslie, take thee, Richard ... ‘"
Leslie's eyes met Richard's, and in the midst of her solemn vows, she winked at him. His sudden flashing grin repaid her audacity.
"...and thereto I plight thee my troth,” she said.
George was tugging at Leslie's wedding band, trying to slide it off his little finger. It was tight and took a bit of doing, and for a moment Leslie saw a George Nelson without his cool, his eyes darting between she and Richard and Jan as he tugged at the ring. At last it came free and he handed it to Richard, along with a look that said, ‘Whew, for a minute there’ ... He was sweating slightly, and he ran a finger along the inside of his shirt color.
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow,” Richard said, “and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you."
His look at her was unexpectedly piercing, and he was scarcely able to get to his handkerchief before Leslie's tears started again.
"...now therefore by the authority vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife."
"Richard.... “Leslie started to speak and, surprised, the judge and Richard stared at her. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and started again. “Richard, I want to tell you ... I love you with every fiber of my being. I welcome you into my heart as my beloved companion, there to dwell for as long as we both shall live."
Richard gaze locked to hers, and his face began to work. He bit his lips to still them, but his eyes welled tears at her words. His hands rose to cup her face and his smile grew, the stars in his eyes blinding her until she could see nothing else but him.
"Your husband thanks you,” he said.
* * * *
Out of the courthouse, hands shaken and cheeks kissed, Jan and George went back to work. Leslie mentioned the Kimberly Christmas card picture waiting for them at police headquarters, but Richard was plainly more interested in his new bride.
"Let's get your mother back home and Coleen back to school,” he murmured as they stood in the crisp sunshine of early morning, “then go home and talk
about us."
"Richard, we really should check those pictures."
"We really should have a honeymoon,” he said, “and I feel bad that it has to wait. But ... one day? Won't the pictures wait one day?"
They were walking along Shepherdsville Road. Restless, Richard had wanted to walk, but it had been a quiet walk for a while.
"Do you remember the morning you pulled me out of the ditch? You asked if I were married, and I said I didn't think so because I couldn't feel a wife in my mind, or in my heart."
"I remember.” She smiled. “I was afraid you were married."
He looked at her curiously. “That soon?"
"I'd never saved anyone's life before, and I was drawn to you. But I never dreamed..."
"I think you ought to know that you've filled that empty place,” he said.
She looked at him, feeling as though she were falling endlessly into the clear blue of his eyes. “Thank you for telling me.” She shook her head helplessly. “God, I'm getting to be a real marshmallow. You say something nice and I can feel myself getting all gooey inside at the thought of being married to you."
He bobbed his head. “You think it's different with me?"
The fever of desire rose in her, and she clutched at his arm. “Richard, let's go back to the house."
* * * *
"I'd like to think that this is where you'll be sleeping from now on,” she said. “So long as we both shall live."
They were in her bed, wrapped in each others arms. The diaphanous red negligee lay across the foot of the bed. Every single button had been undone with a great deal of tender care and lots of smiles and giggles, but now play had made way for Eros.
"You like that?” Richard asked.
She shivered. “Ooh, I'll say. Where'd you learn about that?"
"Instinct. How about—"
She drew a sharp breath. “My God. Oh, honey..."
They grew silent, feeling the ancient magic blossom as he began exploring her body. His touch was light as feathers, tantalizing her to distraction. She could feel the heat building inside her and she clutched him to her, her hips beginning to move against him as her excitement built.
His lips blazed a trail of fiery kisses from her breasts down across her abdomen, her muscles quivering at the magic of his tongue. Across her mount, finding the soft, warm place between her thighs. The velvet flame of his tongue touched the throbbing center of her femininity and she gasped. “Ooh, God,” she groaned, her back arching to reach for him.
* * * *
Her eyes were barely open and he knew she wasn't seeing him as she vented the wild energy of orgasm. Her teeth were bared in an animal smile, her body convulsing beneath him, gripping him with her legs as if he were a stallion to be ridden until he was gentled. And looking at her face he saw wildness, an untamed spirit, a spirit he knew he'd never tame.
And he was glad.
Then her eyes changed, and he knew that she knew him as she wept and melted around him in a loving embrace, casting aside her seventh veil and opening her heart to him in a sweet surrender he knew he would be privileged to see only fleetingly. And in that instant he offered her all the love in him.
"Oh, my God.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were brimming tears, and he was afraid for a minute that he'd done it all wrong, but then her slow, sweet smile came to chase away his fear, and he realized that between them they'd done it all just right.
Chapter Seventeen
Next morning, at police headquarters in Indianapolis, they picked up the Kimberly Christmas card. It was in a sealed envelope, as Leslie had requested, but a sour-faced Detective Fahrquar handed it to her.
"I wanted to give this to you myself,” he said. “And I want to give you this little tidbit too.” He nodded his head toward Richard. “His fingerprints are all over some of these cards. We'll be wanting him to explain that one of these days.” He turned and started to walk away, then turned back. “Oh, yeah, we have a witness who saw his undamaged car leaving the Kimberly house. Undamaged, you got that?” He walked away.
Richard and Leslie stared at each other. It was a shaken Richard who asked the questions. “I didn't know ... did I know the Kimberlys? Why was I at their house? How did my fingerprints get on those pictures?"
"Listen, Richard, you did not kill the Kimberlys. If they had a case against you, they'd have arrested you long ago."
"But how did my fingerprints—"
"I don't know,” she snapped. “Don't you think I'd love to know that? And listen, I don't need you to ask me that again, because I won't know then either."
He drew a deep breath at the sound of irritation in her voice. “You're worried, aren't you?"
She hesitated. “Yes, but not the way you think."
He pulled a long face. “Figures. Just married to a guy who—"
She grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him toward the door. “Now you stop that. Don't you go putting words in my mouth. I don't think you killed the Kimberlys. I'm only worried that without your memory it's going to be hard to find out who did."
"Let's have a look at that picture,” he said.
"Not yet. I want to be where I can see your expression when you first see it. Your reaction may help to tell us something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
They found a cafeteria, got coffee and found a table away from everyone. Leslie tore open the envelope and grasped the card inside. “All right,” she said, “we can study it later, but right now I'm going to flash the picture and I want you to tell me what reaction you have. Okay?"
He wet his lips. “Okay."
"Now."
She watched his face intently as she pulled the card from the envelope, counted to two in her mind, then pushed it back into the envelope. “All right, tell me,” she snapped.
He had cocked his head sharply when she showed the picture and now he straightened and his gaze rose to meet hers, at first puzzled, then smiling.
She frowned at him. “What's so funny?"
"You had the picture upside down."
"What?” Her jaw dropped. “Upside down?” She covered her eyes with her hand, “Oh, no,” she groaned. In a moment her laughter started, first as a soft, self-disparaging snort which grew rapidly into a robust belly laugh. “All that buildup to get a vital first impression,” she choked out. “Here,” she tossed the envelope across the table, “you look at it and tell me what you think."
"That's the first time I've ever heard you laugh like that,” he said. “Isn't that a good sign?” He picked up the envelope and pulled out the picture, his eyes widening in astonishment. “Yes, that's it.” He nodded excitedly. “That's the picture I saw in my mind the other day. You remember, I mentioned it when we were with the police. But where was it taken? And how do I come to know about it?"
She sighed. “That, my darling, is the sine qua non."
"I just love that lawyer talk."
"It means ... well, without that, we're nowhere."
He nodded. “Yeah. Still, seeing that picture makes me feel good. Like my memory is working, trying to come back."
She propped her chin on her hands. “When you remember everything from before, will you still remember everything after? Will you still remember me?"
He grew still, staring at her. “Oh, hell.” The focus of his gaze shifted as he looked inside himself. “Oh, hell, talk about Catch-22.” Finally, he reached out to take her hand. “Listen, you'd better stick real close to me. If I could fall in love with you this quickly, then even if something wipes out my memory, if you're close at hand I'm bound to fall in love with you all over again."
She smiled. “Wouldn't that be nice."
"It's proving to be."
She began to feel warm all over. “You wouldn't believe how sloppy happy inside all this makes me,” she said. “Having you say nice things, having you near, touching you, loving you so damned much—” Her voice quavered and broke, and she stopped to draw a deep breath. “Oh God
, Richard, I love you."
Richard blinked to clear the mist in his eyes. “Come on, Leslie, you'll have me bawling in a minute. And what would your mother think about that?"
"Doesn't matter,” she sniffled. “She's not married to you."
Richard's sigh was like a steam boiler venting. “Come on, all this mushy stuff ain't gonna cut it. We need to get serious. We've got to figure out where that damned brick wall is."
"Right,” she said. She scrabbled in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose. She straightened her back. “Serious.” She picked up the picture and began to study it.
Richard leaned across the table to murmur, “I meant it, honey. Forever."
She lunged for her purse, digging out another tissue. “You rat, if you make my eyes all red—"
"And such beautiful eyes too. I remember thinking that when I first saw them. What's the date on the back of that picture?"
She looked at the card, then dug a calendar out of her purse. “Two weeks ago last Friday.” She stared at him, her eyes widening. “That's the day you were thrown in the ditch."
"Maybe we ought to start by trying to find out where I was that day."
"How?"
"Jan Waters might know. Come on, let's get to the office."
* * * *
"You were making the rounds of the stores,” Janine Waters told him. “Delivering the payroll checks, making your usual Friday inspection before the weekend rush. Same things you did every Friday."
"I was at every store delivering the payroll? I did that every week?"
"Yes, and listen—"
"And everyone got their check okay?"
"Of course. But let me—"
"Then the Lafayette Square store hadn't been burned yet?"
"Oh, no, the fire started very late at night. Around midnight, the security people at the mall said. But listen—"
"So what was different about Friday that somebody tried to kill me?"
"I don't know, Richard. Now listen to me. I think I know where your wall is."
Richard's heart leapt. “The red brick wall?"
"Yes.” Janine pulled a secretary's note pad from her desk, and flipped to a blank page. “George and I got to talking about it after you'd gone.” She began drawing a sketch of the Lafayette Square mall. “X marks the main entrance to the mall, and right here—" Another X. “This is our store location in the mall. On your left as you leave the rear exit of the store, you'll see a red brick curtain wall.” Rapid pencil strokes positioned the wall, and the rear exit of the store. “It's the same wall you can see as you enter through the main entrance to the mall, but you'd probably not notice it because that side of the wall is painted white and covered with signs, and I think maybe there are a couple of pay phone booths.