Memories Of You

by Bobbie Cole

  “Sure.” He walked beside her down the hall to their gate. “Thought maybe you could use the coffee,” he said. “We have about a thirty-minute wait before we board.”

  “Oh, yes.” She accepted the drink. “Thanks. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning, and I’m not a happy camper without my caffeine.”

  “Want something to eat?” he asked. “We have time.”

  She shook her head. “Can’t fly with food in my stomach, but thanks anyway. Maybe when we arrive. Can you recommend any place once we’re there? I’ve never been to the coast.”

  He looked as if he was about to say something then changed his mind. Finally, he quit walking. “You know, that question off the cuff like that… I started to say the name of a restaurant, and my mind went blank. But for a moment…for just a brief instant, it was there.” He blinked. “Wonder what that means.”

  Charlie took a deep breath. “I don’t know squat about head injuries, but my dad and I discussed your situation last night at his place, and he thinks you could fully recover your memory in time. I told him what you’d told me, and he said he’s heard of cases where one day the information just starts flowing, like a jammed fountain that’s been unclogged. Not everything at once, but in pieces.”

  Seth seemed to be processing the information. It was difficult to tell from his expression what he was thinking, but his eyes held a strange sense of peace, and Charlie sincerely hoped that no matter what happened between the two of them, he’d recover fully. He had to be in hell not knowing anything about his past. Seemed like it’d make everything in the present all the more difficult to handle, from what to do, to who to trust, to whether or not he could even manage a task set before him.

  “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said once they found their gate and took two seats facing the runways. “You phoned the doctors, right, to let them know we were coming? What did they say?”

  Seth stretched his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “One doctor said no problem—he even offered to copy the records for me. The plastic surgeon, on the other hand, was a tough nut to crack. I got the feeling he was withholding information, like he was afraid I’d sue him or something. Not sure what’s up with that.” Seth shrugged. “I’m sure I’m more than a little paranoid since this happened, though, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt until we meet him.”

  Charlie furrowed her brow. “Paranoid?”

  He shrugged. “Always suspecting someone’s motives, never quite understanding what my relationship is to them if we’re supposed to be friends or family.”

  “Has your supposed sister offered any ideas, or did you talk to her?” Charlie asked. “I would think she’d have plenty to say.”

  “You’d be wrong. She and I don’t talk. One of the reasons I made sure she wasn’t on any of my personal financial accounts and why I moved out of the house last night is because I don’t trust her.”

  Charlie held up a hand. “Wait. You moved—out of the mansion?”

  “Into the Hyatt on Louisiana. She hasn’t said or done anything that indicates she had a bad relationship with her brother, but once we figured out I wasn’t Mason Aldridge, I realized he has to be dead.” He chuckled. “I’m not afraid of her killing me in my sleep or anything. It just creeped me out thinking that the guy I replaced had to be dead and that she must know something about it if she’s willing to perjure herself by claiming I’m her brother. And if we prove beyond doubt that I’m not Mason, this will wind up in court. She has to know this.”

  “Yeah.” Charlie set her jaw. “Sam and I talked about that last night, too.”

  “Sam?”

  “My dad. I know it’s probably strange to hear me call him by his first name, but our relationship is weird. I didn’t get to know him very well until I graduated the academy. He and my mom fought like cats, so he was never around when I was a kid.”

  “Do you know anything more about—that is…if I’m Seth…” He paused and looked at her thoughtfully. “One of the worst things about all of this is that I don’t know one way or the other.”

  “I know.” She gathered courage for something else she’d meant to ask him. “Why don’t we assume…for now…that you are Seth? At least you’d have a name, and I wouldn’t be calling you John Doe or anything inane like that.”

  He nodded. “That works for me. I’ve already started keeping track of every dime I’m spending of Aldridge money. Once I figure out just who I am, my former job, all of it—I intend to pay every cent back to the Aldridge Foundation. The business, Aldridge Manufacturing, is owned by the foundation as a whole. That’s who deposits money into my account every month.” He shrugged. “I know—they’re robbing me of my identity, and I should be suing them, but while I’m figuring all of this out, I’m living in a not-too-shabby home, eating expensive meals and dressing rather well.” He looked down at his pants. “I’ve even been shopping. I figure if it’s her money, that’s one thing. But if I’m spending Mason’s money—he didn’t do this to me. No need to take advantage of him.”

  “So you’re booked on the flights as Aldridge.” She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense. He had no identification, no way to fly without some form of it.

  “You disapprove?” he asked.

  Charlie lifted her hands. “Hey, whatever works. It’s not my money, and you’re not breaking any laws that I know of, so have at it, but what happens if the real Aldridge appears, just shows up some day?”

  Seth snorted. “Then I guess I’ll owe him a big apology for helping drain his accounts, or he’ll owe me one for saddling me with his sister. Hell, he may not be missing at all—the man might be hiding. If you had to live with Dorinda and Doug, you’d understand.”

  Charlie listened as he spoke, to the deep timbre of his voice, noticing the absence of inflections that might have told her something about his background. Normally, people had accents, and she was good at identifying them to within close proximity of where they’d grown up. With Seth, she was baffled.

  While he appeared more at ease with her today, he was still aloof, certainly not impolite or rude, but definitely more reserved than she’d have preferred. They were a nice-looking couple, if she did think so, and traveling to one of the hottest Mexican Riviera locales on the map. It would’ve been nice if they could’ve truly been a couple, her arm linked through his, his eyes maintaining with hers a steady communication of mutual respect and admiration, if not love.

  She seemed to be the farthest thing from her companion’s mind, though. He talked about where he’d booked their hotel, how long ’til they arrived, and the fact that he was even talking to her made her smile. She and Seth had talked before, but she hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d missed hearing his voice.

  I shouldn’t have worn this get-up. She glanced down at her nice, crisp suit, halfheartedly listening to him now. She should have donned her usual uniform of military-pressed pants, sturdy walking shoes and a button-down shirt. They were to interview a coroner and a couple of doctors, not sip margaritas poolside and stroll hand in hand through downtown Guadalajara. She felt like a fool for wanting…and expecting…to jar his memory, to have him snap out of whatever was keeping him from remembering his past, from remembering her.

  Charlie hadn’t played with dolls as a little girl—she’d played with pen and paper, she’d collected dead bugs and examined spiderwebs. She’d loved to solve puzzles and play hide-and-seek, and her favorite game had been Clue, primarily because it dealt with facts instead of emotions.

  Her mother had seen to it that Charlie grew up knowing how to dress and wear makeup, walk in heels and deal with bad hair days. June’s biggest lesson she’d taught her daughter, however, had been to know when a boy was lying to her by watching his eyes and hands. None of it had prepared Charlie for dating life, but it had served her well as a cop.

  Sam’s teachings, once she’d reached adulthood, had been to show Charlie how to hold a rifle,
to do a roundhouse kick and knock a man out with the heel of her foot, and to swim safely in the shark-infested waters off the Gulf. Nobody had bothered with nonsensical things like helping her feel comfortable flirting, so Charlie was a complete dodo bird when it came to feminine wiles unless she was witnessing another woman use them on some unsuspecting man at the precinct.

  “Have you heard anything I’ve said the past five minutes?” Seth asked, giving her an amused smile.

  “Yes, sorry. I’m listening. You said you’d booked us a suite on the outskirts of the city, but I didn’t catch why so far away.”

  Seth folded his arms. “You were probably the kid who could sleep during class with her eyes open, too, weren’t you? Because that was a lucky guess.”

  “It’s not a guess if I’m on the same page with you,” she said, feeling self-conscious. Had she been lucky, or was he letting her believe she wasn’t a dumbstruck fool every time she looked at him?

  Charlie gave him a direct stare. “Okay, I’ll admit it—I’ve missed hearing your voice. You used to do this a lot…before, you know? We could discuss anything from the weather to world hunger, and you’d have an opinion or know something to add that I hadn’t thought about, and I…” She shrugged. “I’ve missed it.”

  He grinned. “I don’t remember much, but I know what I like when I see it, and I’m pretty sure I’ve always appreciated candor and honesty. You aren’t the type to hide what you’re feeling, are you?”

  “I’d like to be,” she admitted ruefully. “I’m just not very good at playing head games.”

  “Good.” He took a deep breath, one that seemed to extend from his nostrils to his toes, because he flexed as he inhaled, very slowly, and he closed his eyes.

  Charlie wondered what he was thinking, but she wasn’t ready to get quite that personal with him. While she longed to feel his arms about her again, this man was someone she didn’t quite know, probably because he didn’t know himself. It would be too much like seducing him while he was still comatose not to give him the chance to remember things on his own.

  An airline employee announced their flight. She and Seth gathered their single pieces of luggage and walked toward the ramp leading into their plane. Charlie shivered as a creepy thought snuck into her brain. Guadalajara might be an upscale resort area, much different from many rural areas of the country, but it was still foreign territory, with different laws and ways of enforcing them. She prayed she and Seth wouldn’t run afoul of anything that would prohibit them from reentering the country. While she was certain she knew the man at her side before his accident, she didn’t know that much about him. What if he was in trouble with the law in Mexico?

  She handed her ticket to the flight attendant and waited while he returned the stub. What if this new Seth caused her an endless amount of grief that had nothing to do with her heart? Was any part of her safe with him?

  The airport in Guadalajara seemed small for serving a city of five million, with only two terminals, one for international flights, the other for domestic. It was a one-story structure, with an almost all-glass front. Charlie was happy to see a Starbucks almost as soon as they’d disembarked.

  Customs was a red-light, green-light affair once they received their luggage, and the lines moved quickly, especially considering the traffic the minute airport handled.

  Seth spotted their driver with the sign bearing the Aldridge name, and soon he and Charlie were speeding through the city for their hotel. Dozens of trees lined the boulevards and side streets, and there was an odd smell, much like that of a mild eucalyptus, that tickled Charlie’s nostrils.

  As they drove past downtown, other scents permeated the air. Street foods—tamales and tacos, the smells of fried pork, cabbage, peppers and salsa. The midday bustle and hustle was energizing, even after their hour-or-so flight.

  As for their hotel, Seth had chosen well. Their posh palace north of the city was perfect, with landscaping that would have done any hotelier or private landowner proud, and two adjoining suites that shared an open kitchen, dining area, living room and balcony overlooking the expansive lawns. Each bedroom had a private bath with a sunken spa tub, and plush towels and washcloths.

  Once they’d checked in and unpacked, Seth suggested they use the car and driver he’d hired to take them into Guadalajara to scope out where they needed to go and to find a good restaurant since Charlie hadn’t eaten in several hours.

  “What if the doctors and medical examiner won’t see us?” she asked again, not remembering what he’d said earlier. Her head was already swimming with information. She’d blame it on jet lag, but the flight had only been a little over an hour.

  “We go south to the U.S. Embassy in Mexico City.” Seth held up his hands. “I know. It’s nearly three hundred miles and would entail several hours driving, but maybe we won’t have to go there.” He chuckled at her frown. “Don’t worry—maybe the trip won’t be necessary”

  “I hope not.” Charlie stewed on the new information. “There’s no way my boss will let me go for the extra time.”

  “Agree. The swine flu outbreak during the past two years has been horrid on travel here,” he told her. “Shame, really, because Mexico is a beautiful country.”

  She wondered how much he remembered and how much he’d simply read since his accident. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but aren’t you curious about where the accident occurred?”

  He nodded. “I’ve even asked if the driver we hired can take us there long enough for me to walk around. Thought perhaps it’d jog my memory.” He smiled sadly. “If nothing else, maybe it’ll give me an idea of how bad the accident was. I never did see photos of either car. All I know is that I woke up with a face I don’t recognize. I’d like to see if these surgeries were necessary.”

  Charlie grimaced. “That’s pretty diabolical, that the Aldridges would have your face changed to suit their own purposes.”

  “Maybe it’s paranoia talking, and maybe it’s common sense,” he responded. “I mean, who would have benefited by my death and who would benefit by my living? Why did my face have to change? Was it really that badly mangled, or did Dorinda simply need a brother to show up in the States when she returned?”

  Charlie assumed Dorinda must’ve loved her brother, at least a little. But she couldn’t help but wonder at the gall it had taken to work up such an elaborate scheme to make Seth believe he was Mason. Either Dorinda needed a physical brother for whatever reasons, and the Feds needed a plant in the Aldridge midst, even if he was unaware at the time. Or they all were losing IQ points every time they took a leak. None of it made sense, but if it kept Seth alive, it was worth checking into as far as Charlie was concerned.

  Seth walked from the living area to stare out the French doors leading to the balcony. He opened them and inhaled deeply as he walked onto the landing, lifting his head toward the sun. Charlie strolled out to stand beside him and look onto the mountains below.

  Water burbled from carved stone fountains that dotted the statue-studded grounds, and vivid flowers swayed in the slight breeze along well-appointed borders and trimmed hedges. A pink-bricked esplanade wound from their perch atop one mountain to the valley and beach below then upward toward yet another hilly area that looked to be part of the same establishment.

  Surrounding their hotel were rugged cliffs and giant monoliths that Charlie could easily believe had been around since the beginning of time. Fifteenth and sixteenth century structures, probably churches, in the distance added to the charm and seclusion of the area.

  The weather was sunny, but the humidity was palpable, and clouds were rolling in from the west and south. Sam might have been correct because Charlie sensed a storm brewing. Guadalajara wasn’t as warm and sunny as La Paz, and it wasn’t that much warmer than Mexico City, but it was right off the ocean and whatever storms that might blow in from the western Caribbean.

  She looked at Seth’s face. His eyes were dark, brooding. It was as if he searched the hills for answers to s
omething that troubled him.

  Of course. She touched his arm. “Where specifically did the accident happen?”

  He swallowed, hard, and he shook his head slowly, not as if he was dismissing her but as if the subject was too painful. She followed his gaze…and knew. It had happened here or close. He’d chosen their hotel for a reason.

  Hadn’t he mentioned that he’d secured the accident report? The location of the wreck would have been on it. Maybe not a detailed description, or enough of one to lend many clues, but he’d have been given pertinent information to at least get him in the vicinity, even if he didn’t know precisely where it had occurred.

  “I don’t know where I was staying prior,” he said, “but the wreck was on the highway we took to get here. We passed it, I’m sure. I watched the car’s odometer and calculated the miles as we drove. My hope is that we can have someone take us there. Maybe a police officer.”

  “Good idea.” She didn’t know what else to say. She’d have done the same if it had been her who had nearly lost her life. She’d want to know, especially if she had no recollection of what had happened.

  “Do you want to follow up on where that woman was staying?” she asked. “The one who hit you?”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.”

  The scent of rain drifted around them, and soon lightning flashed in the distance.

  “We’d better head for town if you’re ready,” he said, turning to walk inside and placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her.

  Charlie knew he was right, but she wanted to ask him one more question as soon as they were safely inside. “What’s it like, the memory loss?”

  Seth thought a moment. “At first, there were the headaches, residual physical problems that come with any type of healing. What was worse was feeling out of control, not knowing who to trust, what exactly had happened or was happening. I didn’t know Dorinda or her husband, Doug. I didn’t recognize the house once we were back in Houston. There wasn’t much I could do.”