by Pamela Fryer
“Here’s another on the night of the ninth: a traffic accident victim with head-trauma, checked in to the hospital at eleven thirty p.m. Strange...this file’s confidential.”
That one couldn’t possibly be Emily. The bitch would still have been floating. She’d wager a month’s pay Emily was the blond woman on the swamped boat. Still, she had to rule out every possibility, at least until her bloated corpse surfaced.
“Can’t you hack the password?”
“That’s just it—there’s no password to bypass. The information simply isn’t logged. Someone wants to keep this off the records.”
Cold worry rushed into her gut. Was it possible Emily had been rescued and was biding her time as the authorities made their case?
“Where is she?”
“This report was first filed by Pacific Communities Hospital, Newport. It’s a coastal town near Eugene—”
“I know where Newport is, thank you.”
“But there’s no police report to go with it. Probably a false alarm.”
She’d learned long ago not to count on such luck. A coastal town, was it? Could it be Emily had made it ashore that far south? Better check it out, just to be safe.
“Write down what you can find. I’m going to check them all out.” She opened her wallet and fished out some bills. “Will fifty bucks make you forget you saw me here today?”
He snatched the cash from her hand. “Saw who?”
Chapter Eight
Geoffrey and August came through the front door to find Derek sitting on the living room couch talking to a woman with shoulder-length, honey-blond hair. The sight of yet another stranger made August’s shoulders tighten, but Geoffrey brightened instantly.
“Leah! I thought you weren’t coming back until Tuesday.”
She swiveled around and smiled, taking August in with a degree of guarded curiosity. At the same time, her friendly eyes and the warmth in her smile told August she didn’t have anything to fear.
“I decided to come home early after Jocelyn told me the most amazing story.”
“Uh oh.”
“Don’t worry. Heaven knows I’ve let her sit up front, too.” She stood up and came around the couch. “But I had to see the mysterious woman for myself.”
Her words held subtle warning, but her smile only increased. She extended her hand.
“I’m Leah Tanner. Derek tells me you’ve lost parts of your memory.”
She shook the woman’s hand. “I wish I could tell you my name. Dr. Carlson tells me I have hysterical retrograde amnesia.”
“Hysterical amnesia? Isn’t that just like him. I bet if you were a man, it would have a strong, macho name.”
August laughed, already enamored with Leah.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Geoffrey dropped his briefcase on the foyer table. “I was planning to take August for a drive down the coast tomorrow to see a chain of restaurants she thinks she remembers.”
“Actually, Geoffrey dear, I’m here because I remembered the Sierra Foundation awards benefit is tomorrow night. You know I don’t dare leave Jocelyn in Derek’s care.” She glanced over her shoulder with a sly look.
Derek smirked. “That’s my loving sister.”
Leah smirked right back. “Sweetheart, love has nothing to do with it.”
Geoffrey put a hand to his forehead. “I completely forgot. I can skip it.”
Leah’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t you dare! You’ve earned this award. There’s no way I’m letting you skip out on it.” She grabbed August by the right arm. “Talk some sense into him. I have a dress that’ll be perfect for you.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t go.” August choked down the sudden welling of dread. “I can’t go to public events. Not yet.”
“Nonsense. Didn’t Dr. Carlson say you should be out seeing as much as you can?”
August glanced over at Derek, still slumped into a deep leather loveseat in the living room. He shrugged. “We’re family—we talk.”
“Now Leah, don’t pressure her,” Geoffrey said. “If she doesn’t want to go, she can stay here with you and Jocelyn.”
August had an instant to convey her gratitude in a smile before Leah hauled her away. “We’ll let her decide. In the meantime, I can show her the dress.”
She suspected Leah wanted a private moment to talk more than she wanted to show her any dress. August didn’t blame her. Even without her memory, she knew she’d be wary at finding a stranger in her home, too, especially if there were small children there.
“Derek told me what happened this morning,” she said softly as they walked down the hall to the bedrooms. “I want to thank you for sending Geoffrey back out after him.”
“Derek knew that?”
“He guessed as much. Geoffrey sure didn’t do it on his own.”
The woman’s statements made her curiosity grow. What had happened between those two brothers to put them at such odds, when the rest of the family was closer than most?
August suddenly wondered how she knew that. Was the ache of longing squeezing at her heart because she was separated from her own loving family, or because the closeness she saw in the Barthlow house was truly a foreign thing?
“Derek didn’t do anything, really.” She allowed Leah to lead her into a beautiful room decorated with flowery striped wallpaper. “I couldn’t let things get worse between them because of a misunderstanding.”
“Sweetheart, things are bad enough already. You don’t have to worry about causing anything.” She slid open one of three mirrored doors to reveal an enormous closet filled with clothes. Instead of divulging more about Geoffrey and Derek, she rifled through her clothes. “Here we go. I’ll never fit in this again.”
She removed a tea-length silk dress in pale blue and held it in front of August. “This compliments your eyes beautifully. Of course you can’t wear a bra with these little spaghetti straps. I have a strapless one you can borrow.”
“It’s beautiful, really, but I don’t feel right—”
“Have you been wearing these clothes for an entire week?” She pulled the dress back and looked August up and down.
“I’ve been washing out my underwear at night,” August said with a twinge of self-conscious heat in her cheeks. “And we do a load of laundry every other day.”
“Well goodness, there’s no reason to keep doing that.” Leah turned back to the closet. “I need to take Jocelyn shopping for new clothes tomorrow. I’ll pick you up some undies. Can’t have you putting on damp drawers every morning.”
“That’s so nice of you, really.” August sat on the edge of the bed. “But I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother at all.” Leah started yanking clothes off their hangers and tossing them onto the bed. “There’s so much crammed in here because I never throw anything away. I’ve been meaning to donate a lot of this stuff.”
“I don’t think...” August stammered, unsure how to put her situation to this woman who had obviously never been without money. “I’m not sure I could pay you back.”
“Well, it’s just some underwear for goodness’ sakes, and maybe some comfy sweats to sit around in. Don’t worry a bit. Geoffrey’s picking up the tab, right? Wait a minute, I have some yoga clothes that’ll fit you.”
She turned and dug through the top drawer of her dresser. After pulling out a pair of black cotton pants and an oversized t-shirt, she went back to the closet. “Geez, I still have this? And this is from before Jocelyn was born. I’ll never squeeze my rear end into these again...” A pair of jeans flew through the air, followed by a coral colored blouse and a pair of blue cotton slacks. “This one is too out of style for me to interview in.”
August picked up the chic blue velvet jacket Leah’d flung at her. It was fabulous, and she loved the single glittery rhinestone button that fastened the front.
But something about accepting such generosity just felt wrong.
“Leah, this is all very nice, but I couldn’t even get this on over my c
ast if I tried.”
“Well, you won’t be wearing that cast forever. Don’t worry about it, hon. I’m a clothes horse. I have another closet full in my ex-husband’s house. Actually, it’ll be fun dressing you up. Jocelyn’s too young to appreciate trendy clothes, and she’s an incurable tomboy. Besides, it’s nice to have another adult female around here to talk to.”
“I understand this must be unnerving for you,” August volunteered. “You need to feel Jocelyn is safe, and you shouldn’t find a strange person here.”
Leah smiled. “You’re not strange. I liked you just from what Derek told me.”
August took a deep breath, uneasy about what might have been said. “If you’d feel more comfortable, I can see about staying in the apartment above the Mirthful Mermaid.”
“Don’t even think about it. Derek says Jocelyn adores you. Besides, we need someone here to distract those two before they kill each other.”
August glanced away.
“Sorry. Bad choice of words.” Leah sat down on the bed near August and a moment of silence passed. “Did you think he was going to hit you?”
August thought back to the incident this morning, and the sudden shock of fear that had exploded in her.
“Truly, it happened too fast for me to think anything. But now that I’m in a calmer frame of mind, I realize it was the white cabinet that frightened me more than his hand. That’s weird, isn’t it?”
She finished with a soft chuckle, but Leah’s face was deadly serious as she shook her head. “No, it isn’t.” She looked at August’s fingers where they curled around the edge of her cast. “Did Geoffrey tell you what I do?”
August shook her head.
“I’m a psychologist specializing in marriage counseling. Not exactly as gritty as an abuse counselor, but I’ve seen my share of battered wives.”
Leah was staring at the tan line on her wedding ring finger.
“That’s what the consensus is, I gather.” Already it appeared to be fading, but it was still there, like a brand. “That I’m running from my husband.”
“What do you think?”
“Honestly? No, I don’t think I was married. Even though I’ve lost my memory, if I had a husband, I would remember something about him. Or remember the feeling of being married, at least.”
Leah gave her a sad smile. “It’s a powerful feeling. Trust the marriage counselor who’s going through the divorce.”
* * *
August twisted in bed, unable to get comfortable around the heavy cast. It was like sleeping with a log. She didn’t want to take one of the painkillers just to sleep. They left her mind too foggy, even the next day. She needed to be sharp...at all times.
Nighttime was the worst. Her tension rose as the sun fell, and the darkness harbored a thousand threatening shadows. She was almost happier not being able to sleep, and when she did, only sleeping lightly.
It had been another ring she’d had on her wedding finger, one that she had taken off for some reason. The peridot birthstone ring simply didn’t fit on that hand. Not even after she’d soaked her hand in ice water until her fingers ached, and then tried to coax it on with liquid dish soap. It wouldn’t pass over the second knuckle on her finger.
She sat up in bed. Beyond the curtains, the ocean called to her with its never-ending crash and surge. August rose and made her way to the giant sliding glass door. A full moon gilded the beach in silver.
Pieces of her memory were now clear, having come back so subtly she almost didn’t realize it—just somehow knew they were there.
Walking across dark pavement, watching her steps carefully to keep from falling down. Pummeling rain stinging her eyes, making her sore head throb harder. Blinding headlights coming straight at her. She now remembered the accident that had brought them together. Her broken arm was from the car accident. Her head injury...
Everything else, anything further back, was still dark and murky, out of reach like an item submerged in a bucket of muck she didn’t want to sink her hand into.
At least now she knew beyond any doubt that Geoffrey was not involved in whatever had happened to her. She had believed it already in her heart and in her gut, but now she had the memory of the accident to cast her trust in stone.
She smiled into the darkness as his handsome face floated across her mind’s eye. He was the one thing in her fragile existence that gave her strength. She could hardly wait until morning, when sunlight chased away the darkness, to see him again.
He’d said he had a surprise for her. Her mood brightened. He was so sweet and kind, placing his life on hold to put her first. He’d tried to get out of his awards banquet to take her down south to the burger joints he’d researched. August was glad Leah was here to stand behind her, because she wasn’t about to let him do that. If there was one thing about him she’d discovered in their brief time together, he was humble and shy when it came to his own qualities.
August made her way quietly through the dark house to warm a glass of milk in the microwave. It was only two thirty a.m.; she still had a good chance for a few solid hours of sleep.
She poured her milk, heated it for forty seconds and removed it from the microwave.
“I can’t sleep either. Damn ocean keeps me awake all night.”
She jumped, sloshing milk onto the counter.
“I wish you would stop sneaking up on me,” she snapped at Derek. He sat in the living room in the darkness, a silhouette against the moonlit night. He raised a glass bottle and took a swig. A shiver of fear skittered over her spine. The clear liquid inside glistened, illuminated by the fat moon behind him.
“I didn’t shneak anywhere. Been sitting here the whole time.”
“Geoffrey isn’t going to like you drinking.” She cringed inwardly, certain that was the wrong thing to say.
“Why donchoo run and tell him.”
“I’m sure it will be obvious in the morning.”
He laughed and leaned forward, squeaking across the plush leather couch. The finger he pointed at her swayed. “You’re trying to remain neushral. That’s commenbdible. But we’re past fik-shing.”
“Why?”
Because of Christina. She longed to know more, while at the same time, was terrified of what it would reveal.
Derek laughed again, but this time it was a pained, pathetic sound. He glanced sideways, staring into a dark corner of the room.
“Imagine this, Derek. Imagine you wake up one day and your family is gone. You’d look back on today and wished you had fixed it.”
“He hates me. Can’t be fixed.”
“He doesn’t hate you.” Again, she was sorry she’d spoken too soon. She had no idea if that were true or not.
“You like him. Don’t you?” His drunken gaze found her in the darkness. She couldn’t exactly see his eyes as much as she could feel them on her.
“I do.” A spike of longing pierced her heart as she said it. “Very much.”
“You’re good,” he said. She wasn’t quite sure what he meant until he said, “Good enough for him. A good person. Better than Christina. She didn’t deserve him.”
“That’s enough, Derek.” Geoffrey’s gruff voice cut through the darkness. He crossed the living room below the kitchen and snatched the bottle from his startled brother. Once in the kitchen, he poured the remains of the bottle into the sink and then faced her. “You probably shouldn’t wander around the house late at night, as my brother obviously can’t be trusted.”
“I’m sorry I woke you,” August said. “Just let me wipe up this milk.”
Geoffrey flipped on the light switch, flooding the kitchen with too-bright light.
“Don’t worry, bro,” Derek slurred from the living room. “I don’t think Auguss likes bad boys.”
“She doesn’t like drunk boys, either,” August added for herself. A touch of a smile found Geoffrey’s lips. It vanished as he turned around to face his brother.
“You aren’t supposed to be drinking, Derek. That’s
why you’re here, to clean up your act. Do I have to dump all the booze?”
“Drugs.” Derek bobbed his head to enunciate his point. “I’m here to clean off drugs. A little drink helps take the edge off. Can’t go cold, man. Not possible.”
Geoffrey turned back to her and spoke in a soft voice. “Where are the painkillers Dr. Carlson gave you?”
“Put well away. Tomorrow, they go down the toilet.”
Geoffrey rinsed out a sponge and wiped up the milk. He picked up her mug and swabbed the dribble of milk off the side before turning back to his brother. “You—go to bed.”
“Can’t sleep.”
“I don’t care! Go, before you do something stupid like fall off the balcony again.”
“Aw man, I was twelve years old.”
“And you were a whole lot smarter then than you are now. Move it, before my patience runs all the way out.” Geoffrey pointed. Derek rose unsteadily to his feet and shuffled away.
Geoffrey waited a long minute before turning back to her.
“I’m sorry,” August said again. “I couldn’t sleep and I thought some warm milk would help. I didn’t mean to wake you. I know you have a conference call in the morning.”
“Don’t apologize. I wish this house was safe for you to move around in without worrying about him.”
“He doesn’t bother me.”
“What if Jocelyn got up and found him like that? She’s only seven years old. She shouldn’t have to see that. He could really upset her and she might never forget it.”
“I know.” She nodded and smiled. “Don’t ask me how I know that, but I know you’re right.” Darting memories flitted around in her head. She hated to watch anyone pour a drink. Someone in her past was an alcoholic.
If only I could remember!
Geoffrey pushed both hands through his hair. “I’ve had it with him.”
It must be the late hour and that she was punchy, because August couldn’t stop herself from saying what she knew she shouldn’t.