Forget Me Not

by Vicki Hinze

  “Sounds like a good man.” She looked around. “This is the first formal room I’ve seen in the house.”

  “I don’t come in here much.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Why not?”

  “Honestly?”

  He nodded, eager to hear what she would say.

  “It’s got that perfect, useless look.” She glanced over at him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  She smiled. “I intended it as one.”

  He liked her. Blunt to a fault … and unabashedly honest.

  “I have the perimeter security mapped out, Mr. Chessman.”

  “I heard.” Gregory turned down Brandt’s street.

  “From whom, sir?”

  “I got a text message from the mayor.” Gregory worked hard to keep his temper under control. “Paul, you do realize one of the boys you hired to run across Three Gables was the mayor’s son, Lance, right?”

  Silence.

  “Do I need to repeat the question?”

  “No sir.” Paul’s voice shook. “No sir, I didn’t know.”

  A lie. Gregory hadn’t gotten to where he was by not recognizing a lie when he heard one. “Let me rephrase the question. Why did you recruit Lance Green for this recon job?”

  “I didn’t know the boy was the mayor’s son, sir.” Paul paused. “Have I created a complication?”

  Now why had Paul lied to him? Only one reason made sense. He suspected that there was an association between Gregory and the mayor. Paul hired Lance to test his theory. But had he tested it to protect Gregory or to obtain a security pass in case Gregory turned on him? Could be either. Time would tell.

  “No, no complication. I’ve taken care of it.” Gregory twisted his hand, gripping the steering wheel hard. “Don’t put me in this position again.”

  “No sir. I won’t—”

  Gregory snapped shut his phone, certain Paul was either twitching like a madman or had blanked out and frozen in place. He’d be humiliated and rattled to the core at making such a boneheaded mistake. And well he should be. If this error had occurred with anyone but the mayor, the consequences would have been devastating.

  Fortunately, the mayor had chosen his path years ago in forming a strategic business alliance involving property useful for purposes never openly discussed but that had made them both wealthy men. Better, that alliance wasn’t known to anyone else or ever discussed in person between them.

  The mayor liked being a big fish in a small pond as much as his wife liked it. He enjoyed sitting in church on Sunday and being admired and respected in his town. He was a proud man. Gregory fully appreciated the obscure relationship between them. Nothing related in any form or manner other than text messages.

  That protection made the mayor the perfect secret partner.

  11

  Gregory Chessman was a sharp dresser and a very attractive man with sandy brown hair, murky hazel eyes, and Romanesque features, and yet something about him made Karen edgy. She couldn’t explain it, but her internal radar had gone on alert the moment he walked through the door.

  She stood near the sofa in Ben’s living room and waited for the men to enter. They greeted each other warmly, and that unnerved her too. Why?

  Nothing. No idea.

  Please, help me remember.

  Still nothing.

  They walked in. “Gregory, this is Karen. Karen, this is Gregory Chessman.”

  Gregory hesitated, clearly surprised to see her. Was that because Ben didn’t typically have female guests over, or was it her bruises? Or maybe he recognized her.

  For a flash of a second, she felt sure he knew her. But then a shield slipped so firmly over his face that she wasn’t sure if she’d seen that flash because it had been there, or because she had wanted to see it.

  Stop it, Karen. Your face looks as if you’ve been through a war. Of course he’s looking at you like you’re weird.

  Trying to redeem herself, she walked over and extended her hand. “Mr. Chessman, I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Hello, Karen.” He visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.”

  “No. If anyone is intruding, it’s me.” He seemed nice enough, but just looking at him had her upset. “I should go.”

  “No, no.” Gregory held up a hand. “I just wanted to drop this by.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope, and passed it to Ben. “There you go.”

  “Thanks.” Ben took it. “We appreciate your support, Gregory. Harvey Talbot will be a very happy man.”

  “Glad to do it.” Gregory dipped his chin in her direction. “Pleasure meeting you, Karen. Hope to see you again soon.”

  “Thank you.” She returned his nod with a stiff one of her own.

  “’Night, Ben.”

  “Good night.” Ben showed Gregory out and then returned to the living room. “What’s wrong, Karen?”

  “I have no idea. But that man scares me right out of my skin.”

  “Gregory?” Surprise rolled over his face in a wave. “Why? He’s a philanthropist.”

  “Boy, do I wish I could answer that.” She stood, paced a short path alongside the sofa, and tried to force her mind to work, her memory to kick in. She failed and felt every atom of that frustration. “I don’t know why, Ben.”

  “If you don’t know, then why are you afraid?”

  Good question. Why am I? She paused directly in front of Ben, stared up into his eyes. “I think he’s the reason I was so afraid to be in Seagrove Village.”

  Ben didn’t say anything; clearly he had no idea what to say.

  “I don’t remember him, so I can’t be sure, of course.” Karen licked at her lips. “But when I look at him, I have that same terrified feeling I had about being here and going to the police.” She pressed her hands over her abdomen. “He puts so many knots in my stomach I can barely breathe.”

  He searched her face. “I won’t pretend to understand. Gregory has a sterling reputation. But I see that you believe what you’re saying, and I’ve developed a deep respect for instincts.”

  Grateful he’d given her that much, she squeezed his upper arm. “Thank you.”

  “You could be associating something about him that’s totally unconnected. You do realize that.”

  No way. She knew it as well as she knew where she stood. “Yes, I do understand it.”

  “But you don’t believe you’re doing it.”

  “No.” She blinked. “No, I honestly don’t.”

  And that certainty might just scare her most of all.

  Gregory walked down the lighted sidewalk from Brandt’s front door, heading back to his car. He’d pulled deeper into the driveway to get a look at where this cottage was placed on the property.

  It was dark, but through the thicket of trees, he saw a brick path and a light in a window beyond it.

  Paul shouldn’t have any trouble hitting her there.

  He drew in a deep breath, scanned for security cameras, and spotted none that would record him. The recorder in his pocket had Brandt’s voice. From it, Paul would have his voiceprint and know whether Brandt had infiltrated or Edward had manufactured a pretense. Would Paul tell Gregory? That he didn’t know, which is why he had taken the matter into his own hands with a backup plan.

  In short order, Gregory could put this ordeal behind him, and that time couldn’t come soon enough for his peace of mind.

  His cell phone rang. Gregory reached down to the clip on his belt and retrieved the phone. “Hello.” He opened the car door, slid inside, dropping a second envelope onto the concrete driveway, and then pulled the door shut.

  It was time to find out himself if Paul’s New Orleans contact—a.k.a. one Richard Massey—had recruited Edward or Benjamin Brandt.

  12

  Thanks for walking me back, Ben.” Karen moved toward the cottage door.

  “My pleasure.” He gave her a disarming smile. “It’s been r
ougher on you being here than I’d hoped it would be. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Not your fault.” She glanced beyond the light into the dark woods. That Mark Taylor and his security staff were on alert did make her feel safer, though meeting Gregory Chessman still had her trembling inside. Oh, how she wished she knew why.

  Ben had talked to her for a solid fifteen minutes, reciting the man’s golden qualities. Oddly enough that hadn’t reassured her but raised her concerns. No mere mortal could be that altruistic.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she said, deliberately lingering and debating on whether to tell him what she most wanted to say. Figuring he couldn’t think any less of her than he already did, she went ahead. “Especially for a normal dinner. That was such a pleasant surprise.”

  He gave her a slow blink that had her heart racing. “For me too.” He shifted on his feet. “I didn’t expect … ”

  “What?” She glanced up and their gazes locked. A flutter of attraction sparked in her. Oh no. Not a smart move. Not in his position and certainly not in yours.

  “I didn’t expect it to be so … easy,” he said with a little shrug and looked away. “I thought it would be hard.”

  “Because I look like Susan?”

  “No.” He kept his gaze diverted for a long moment, then finally returned it to her. “Because I haven’t brought another woman into her house.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he glanced at the velvety night sky. “I thought I would resent seeing you working in her kitchen, but I didn’t.” He looked down at his feet.

  “Ben, are you feeling guilty because you didn’t resent me being there?”

  He bit at his lip. “Yeah. I guess I am.” He sighed. “No, I know I am. But it has nothing to do with you personally.”

  His honesty surprised her, but it really shouldn’t have. According to Peggy Crane, he had been a good Christian before Susan and Christopher died. Now he was wealthy, respected, and half the women in the village and many beyond it would love to take him off the marriage market, but he wouldn’t have any part of that.

  Peggy thought he had gotten used to being alone and liked it, but she was wrong. Karen saw in him what she felt inside and hadn’t spoken of aloud. That horrible loneliness, so painful and heavy it can’t be acknowledged, because if it is, its weight crushes the spirit. Why or how she knew that feeling remained a mystery to her, but she was certain of it.

  Ben had an even harder time of it. He was horribly lonely and lost. She had her faith to sustain her, God to rely on and shelter her during life’s storms. Ben had turned away from God. He faced those storms on his own. How he could survive that was beyond her. It had to be agonizing.

  “Karen? Did I offend you?”

  “Oh no.” She smiled, waved that possibility off. “Sorry, my mind’s a little scattered at the moment, and I lost my thoughts.”

  “I really didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You didn’t.” She gripped his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I was just thinking that I’d probably feel guilty too.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You would?”

  “Oh yeah.” She plucked a leaf off a bush near the edge of the porch, then dropped down into the swing and patted the seat for him to join her. “It wouldn’t be justified, of course, but I’d still feel it.”

  He sat beside her. “Do you know why?”

  She twisted to look into his eyes. “Because I’d survived and they hadn’t.”

  He looked at her. Waited.

  “I’d feel like I’d failed them, I think.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’d eat at me that I was supposed to protect them and I hadn’t. I’d blame myself.” She saw in his eyes that she’d knocked a home run. That’s exactly what Ben felt. Bless his heart.

  “I’d be an idiot to think any of that, but you know emotions.” She lightened her tone. “They don’t care about logic or reason or even common sense. They just hang out and drive you nuts wherever they can find a nook or cranny to rip you apart inside.”

  Ben let out a sigh that heaved his shoulders. “I was supposed to protect them.”

  “No one can protect themselves, much less anyone else, all the time, Ben. It’s an impossible standard.”

  “You say that, but admit in my place, you’d feel guilty too.”

  “Well, sure. When it comes to people you love, you expect more than the possible; you expect perfection—because you love them.”

  He slid her a sidelong look. “Are you a shrink or something?”

  “Mmm.” Was she? No subtle innate reaction either way. Yet Doctors Harper and Talbot had used medical terms unfamiliar to her. If she was a shrink, she’d be familiar with the words, wouldn’t she? “I don’t think I am. But don’t I wish I knew?”

  “Whatever you are, I think you’re a strong woman.”

  “I’m not.” She whispered that confession. “To tell you the truth, I’m scared stiff.”

  “You hide it well.”

  “I hide nothing.” She looked out to the gently rustling leaves. “I lean hard on God. He holds me up.” She swerved her gaze back to Ben. “Frankly, if I just relied on me, I’d be laid out flat on the floor somewhere.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Believe it. I promise you, it’s true.”

  “You’re not going preach to me, are you?”

  “Absolutely not.” She stared off into the night and relaxed for the first time since she’d been carjacked. “You’re a grown man, fully capable of making your own decisions and defining your own path.” She leaned back. “I’m having enough trouble making sense of my own life right now. I don’t dare take on yours too.”

  He grunted and looked out at the trees. “I envy you, Karen.”

  “Me? Whatever for?”

  “Because even though you don’t know who you are, you know exactly whose you are.”

  “God’s child?”

  He nodded.

  He had a point. Still … “I’ll tell you a secret.” She let out a little laugh. “I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit it’d be really nice to have someone human to hold my hand right now.”

  “Even under guard, you’re afraid.”

  “Scared half to death.” But not just of these two groups after her. She was afraid of all she didn’t know.

  Their gazes locked, and he slowly lifted his arm. “I’ll hold your hand.”

  Touched, she swallowed hard. The back of her nose stung and her eyes burned. She clasped his hand and twined their fingers. “Thank you, Ben.”

  Long minutes passed with only the sounds of the squeaking swing and the deep night between them. It was comfortable. Companionable. And in it, they created a bond forged in having faced trials and challenges alone. And, if only for now, they would face them together.

  In that, Karen found solace and an unexpected peace.

  Ben broke the silence, talking about his life with Susan and Christopher—something Karen felt he hadn’t done often or with many. The conversation was relaxed and easy, and as midnight approached, she realized they had talked about nothing and everything, about all manner of things. Ben was sharp and witty and compassionate, and at some time, he’d probably been a strong debater.

  “Well, it’s late and you’ve got to be exhausted.” He released her hand, staring at it as if he had forgotten he held it or he was reluctant to let go.

  Sharing both those feelings, she stood. “It’s been a very long day after a very long night, but I really enjoyed this. A normal dinner and conversation was exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

  He touched her cheek. “Thank you, Karen. I think I needed this too.”

  “I expect you did.” She felt her smile falter. “I want to say something, but I’m not preaching, okay?” He stiffened.

  “You couldn’t have saved them,” she said softly. “And Susan would hate you kicking yourself because you felt you could.”

  “Would she?” Hope tinged his voice.


  “Absolutely, she would.” Karen touched his sleeve. “You loved her, Ben, but you have to remember that she loved you too.”

  “She did.”

  “Actually, she’s probably pretty ticked off at you for feeling that guilt.”

  “You didn’t know her, Karen. How can you say that?”

  “It’s how I would react. I’d be really ticked off at you.”

  “Three years, and I’ve never once thought of it that way.” He shook his head. “But, you know, you could be right. She likely would be ticked off at me.”

  “Worse, if we’re being totally honest.”

  “Worse?”

  “Much worse.” She hiked up her jaw. “Susan had her life stolen. That’s one thing. But she’d see what you’re doing as you giving yours away as if it’s worth nothing.”

  He looked away. “I don’t think I like the way that feels.”

  “She wouldn’t like it either.” Karen certainly wouldn’t. “Just something to think about.”

  He mumbled something under his breath, rubbing his neck.

  Pleased he was thinking about it, she turned the doorknob and then stepped inside. “Good night.”

  “If you need anything, call.”

  “Thanks.” He seemed a little dazed. God, I hope that’s a good thing and what You had in mind.

  She took a last look—still dazed—then closed the door, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was amazing how much her opinion of him had changed.

  Understanding can do that, she thought, spotting a baseball bat and glove near the door. An uneasy feeling shimmered over her skin. Stop it. Mark and his team, Ben, an elaborate security system—surely you’re safe.

  Logical, reasonable, yet the moment she closed the door and was alone, wariness settled back in. She’d been deliberately targeted, set up to believe she was Susan. Guided to the crisis center, to Ben specifically with Susan’s cross, and no one went to that much trouble for nothing.

  Then there was her reaction to Gregory Chessman. It was instinctive. Overwhelming. Certain. What was that all about?