Disappointment settled deep in Holly’s chest. She didn’t want to believe that Craig Ford was a con man, or that her judgment could be so flawed. “What kind of holes?”
“He’s no ordinary John Doe,” Josh said. “The guy is healthy, immaculately groomed, has an expensive haircut and quality clothes. Somebody ought to be missing him.”
“If he was on vacation—”
“So how did he get here? And how did he get around? There are no rental cars unaccounted for, no abandoned cars found around that time.”
“Not everyone drives. Maybe he took a taxi from the airport.”
“Scalisi couldn’t find a taxi driver who remembered him,” Josh said. “The man’s trying to disappear. He’s trying to get lost and stay lost.”
“Why would anyone want to do that?” Holly said.
Josh’s laugh was ugly. “There you go again. Little Holly Sunshine. Everything is sunny and bright, and everyone is nice and happy. And no one has anything they’d like to run from.”
“Don’t you Little Holly Sunshine me, Josh! I’ve talked to this man. He’s tormented.”
“So he says. But his story is just a little too convenient.”
“He was hit by a car!” she said.
“He ran into the path of a slow-moving vehicle on a side street,” Josh said. “Without ID. It’s too tidy. Scalisi’s been suspicious from the first.”
“Okay,” Holly said with a sigh. “Suppose you’re right. Suppose he’s faking. What’s his angle? What’s he running from?”
“Who knows? Maybe he got in over his head and couldn’t make the payments on his BMW. Maybe he lost a bundle in Vegas and has loan sharks on his heels. Maybe he screwed a politician’s wife and the cuckolded husband is after him. Maybe he just got tired of the wife, the kiddies and the nine-to-five grind and decided to start over without the baggage. Maybe he neglected to make a sizable deposit of company funds. Who knows? So what does he do? He runs out in front of a car and wakes up with no memory. Bingo!”
“But his picture went out over the wire services.”
“Maybe his best friend was hung over and didn’t read the paper that day. Or his neighbor saw it and thought, ‘Hey, that looks just like so-and-so.’ Heck, maybe the little woman is even in on it, knowing once the heat dies down, they can live it up on the absconded money. For all you know, he could be phoning home twice a day from a pay phone on the corner.”
Everything he said sounded feasible. But Holly had looked into Craig’s blue eyes and seen the anguish in his troubled soul. “He’s not faking,” she said. “I can tell.”
“You can tell,” he said derisively. “That’s rich. What’s this—female intuition at work?”
“Don’t be a jerk,” she said. “I’m entitled to an opinion. I’ve talked to the man. You haven’t even met him.”
“Hmm,” he said. “But I’ve seen his picture. He’s a good-looking guy. I’m sure he can be very persuasive.”
“You’re not giving me much credit,” Holly said. “I’m not the type to swoon over every handsome man I meet. Craig’s looks—”
“That’s another possibility. The man could have chosen any name he wanted. But he chose Craig, and then he went to work at the very library where you work. Don’t you consider that a little convenient?”
“It’s a coincidence!” Holly replied. “He chose the name because of a soap opera character.”
“He could be trying to get to you.”
“What possible motive would anyone have to try to get to me?”
“Aside from the obvious?” he asked.
“Men don’t have to throw themselves in front of a car and pretend to have amnesia in order to meet me,” Holly said. “Any man who wants to strike up an acquaintance with me can walk right into the library and say hello.”
“Unless he wants you to think it’s purely coincidental.”
“Josh! Again, what reason would a man have to get close to me? Aside from the obvious, of course.”
“Craig and I were working on some sensitive cases.”
In Cocoa? “Oh, puh-leese. Who do you think is after me—the FBI? The Mafia? The KGB?”
“I’m going to do everything I can to find out who he is for you.”
“You’ve misread the situation,” Holly said, thinking that she’d made a mistake bringing Josh into it. “I asked for your help so he can find out who he is, not so I can.”
Josh finished his soft drink and set the can on the coffee table. “You’re the one who asked me for help, and you’re the one I’m doing it for.” He sat up, then propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Look, Holly, I don’t know how close you’ve gotten to this John Doe—”
“I work with him, Josh. He’s scarcely more than an acquaintance.”
“Whatever,” he said skeptically. “Just...be careful.”
“Craig’s been dead over a year,” she said.
He shrugged. “No one expects you to go into eternal mourning. If you want to find a new man, find a new man. But find one with a name and a history you can check out. This guy’s trouble, whether his story’s true or not.”
“I don’t want a new man,” Holly said softly. “I want Craig back. I still miss him. Every day.”
“So do I.”
They passed a moment of silence rife with memories of the person Craig had been and what he had meant to them. Finally, Holly smiled gently. “How’s the rookie coming along?”
For the next hour, Josh entertained her with stories about the trials and travails of breaking in the young officer who’d become his partner shortly after Craig’s death. “So there we were in the alley, our weapons drawn, and out walks this scruffy cat. Malone panics and fires off a round. He misses the cat, but hits the garbage can and the bullet ricochets and breaks the window in the back door of the store. Then the burglar alarm goes off and all hell breaks loose. Soon we’re surrounded by cops and my partner is trying to explain why he fired at an unarmed cat. The next day, Malone opens his locker and this huge cat comes charging out. The poor guy almost had to change his shorts.”
“It’s good to hear that cop humor hasn’t changed.”
“Life goes on,” Josh said with a resigned sigh.
“Yes, it does,” Holly agreed. Life did go on. It went on and on. But it didn’t necessarily get easier.
* * *
THE OPEN-AIR Beachside Club had a live band every Friday night. Holly, Meryl and Sarah went there together after work at least once a month. Tonight, Craig Ford was with them, thanks to an impromptu invitation from Meryl as they’d filed out of the library at closing time. The band was playing a plaintive ballad made famous by the Righteous Brothers.
Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. “Tom Cruise. Top Gun.”
“I love this song,” Meryl said dreamily.
“It was made for dancing,” Holly said.
“Absolutely,” Meryl agreed, giving Craig a wink. “It’s a shame to let a song like that go to waste. Too bad no one’s asked you to dance, Holly.”
“I can take a hint,” Craig said, reaching for Holly’s hand as he rose from his chair. “Would you care to dance, Miss Bennett?”
“Do you know how?” she asked as he led her to the floor.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” He grinned. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
They turned to face each other. “What if you don’t?” she asked.
“Then we’ll fake it.” He slid his right arm around her shoulders. “It doesn’t look all that difficult.”
“I guess you know how,” she said after he guided her into a flawless box step.
“I wonder where I learned.” Holly heard the sadness in his voice.
“My cousin taught me,” she said. “She was two years older and knew everything there was to know about being cool, so she took pity on me and showed me the basics. I was going to the sixth-grade dance and I was petrified.”
She laughed softly. “The only trouble was, only three boys
in our class had the courage to get on the floor, and they only danced with the most popular girls. Everybody else just stood around feeling geeky.”
“You were never geeky.”
“Everybody’s either geeky or cool in the sixth grade. I was geeky.” Had he deliberately pulled her closer, or had she unconsciously snuggled into the seductive warmth of his embrace?
Maybe it was the song, with those mellow lyrics and lulling melody, that made her loath to pull back and put some space between them. Or maybe it was the compassion she felt for him. Maybe it was simply the wonder of being in a man’s arms again. Whatever it was, she allowed herself to melt into that wonder and warmth, allowed her cheek to settle against the hard chest that offered strength and pleasure.
She closed her eyes and relaxed. Her breathing deepened. The music seemed to seep into her. The tempo. The melody. The emotion.
A sigh slid from within her, almost as if it had originated in her soul. His after-shave taunted her with its familiarity, until she recognized it as the same brand Craig had worn. Her Craig.
It came to her in a rush, a fresh, poignant reminder of what she’d lost. He’d never hold her like this again. She’d never feel his chest beneath her cheek, never have his arms around her, never again be able to lift her face to his and taste the desire in his kiss.
“Oh, Craig,” she whimpered, not meaning to voice the words.
His sigh ruffled through her hair. “I’ve waited an eternity to have you next to me like this.”
Magic sentiment, wrong voice. He had misinterpreted the meaning of her words. She lifted her cheek from his chest and pulled away.
His arm tightened around her shoulders, his hand squeezed hers. “Don’t leave,” he said. “Not when I’ve finally got you where you belong.”
She didn’t have the will to resist the lure of his embrace. The band was nearing the end of the song. Where was the harm in staying right where she was for another few minutes? It was a comfortable place.
“You’re wearing after-shave,” she said.
“I bought it yesterday. Do you approve of my choice?”
She didn’t have a chance to answer, because as the band reached the crescendo, he spun her in circles and then dipped her backward from the waist on the final note.
Holly had no trouble following as he led her in the dramatic flourish. She had plenty of practice with that exact step. Craig—her Craig—had done exactly the same thing at the end of every song they danced to. Accustomed to the dip, she had relaxed so that she would be limber, but, recognizing the coincidence, she went rigid so suddenly that he almost dropped her.
“Holly?” He supported her as she came upright.
“What made you do that?” she asked.
His expression telegraphed surprise and he laughed nervously. “I don’t know.” The laughter faded, and a sigh followed. “I wish to God I did.”
“I’m sorry.” How could she have been so thoughtless? “You...surprised me.”
“I’d never have guessed that,” he said. “You were right with me.”
“I used to know someone who did the same thing,” she said. I used to love someone who did the same thing.
Their gazes locked and, just for an instant, the rest of the world fell away. Holly no longer heard the chatter of the diners, the clinking of cutlery against plates, the raucous laughter from the bar. She was aware only of his eyes, of the poignant emotions she saw there. She recognized and felt them so intensely, it seemed almost as if the two of them were linked in some mystical way, each a part of the other, capable of sharing thoughts and feelings.
The moment passed. The band launched into a wild rendition of “Great Balls of Fire.”
“Do you want to try again?” he asked, tilting his head toward the center of the dance floor.
“You should ask Sarah or Meryl,” she said.
“Of course,” he said. “The only male. I forgot.”
Holly nodded. She welcomed the chance to sit down and think about what had just happened. She had known getting over Craig’s death would be difficult, but she hadn’t expected to react the way she had the first time she was in another man’s arms. If only he hadn’t been wearing that particular after-shave. Of all the brands available, why did he have to select the very brand Craig had always worn? And then, to spin her that way... What was this affinity she had with him? Why did she feel it when she looked into his eyes?
“He sure has some moves,” Sarah said, pulling Holly from her thoughts.
Holly didn’t have to ask to whom Sarah was referring. Her friend’s attention was riveted on Craig Ford, who was gyrating frenziedly with Meryl to the music.
“I guess he does know how to dance,” Holly mused aloud.
“Knows how? He could audition for Chippendales if he took off his shirt.”
She was right. He was attracting attention from females throughout the room.
“You two were certainly chummy,” Sarah said.
“It was just the song,” Holly said.
“Right!” Sarah said.
“It was,” Holly insisted. She stared at the candle in the middle of the table. “I don’t think I was quite ready to...you know, relate.”
“I think you were relating pretty well.”
“Too well.”
“Come on, Holly. Quit fighting it. Give it a chance.”
I’m so confused! Holly wanted to say, but she wasn’t ready to discuss her innermost feelings with anyone. She hadn’t even told her friends about Craig’s amnesia.
After another song, Craig escorted Meryl back to the table and asked Sarah to dance. As soon as they were gone, Holly and Meryl had a conversation remarkably similar to Holly’s earlier exchange with Sarah. But Meryl didn’t let Holly off as easy as Sarah had.
“Admit it,” she said. “You’re attracted to the man.”
“He’s attractive, but—”
“He’s attractive, all right, but that isn’t what I said. Attractive is an adjective. I used ‘attracted.’ It’s a verb, which implies some action on your part.”
Holly covered her face with her hands and groaned. “I don’t want to be attracted to him. It’s too complicated.”
“Well, if you’re not attracted to him, you’re sure sending out some mixed signals. There wasn’t room to slide a piece of paper between the two of you when you were dancing.”
Holly lowered her hands. “I was thinking about Craig.”
Meryl’s forehead furrowed in concern. “Not the Craig you were dancing with, I take it.”
Holly shook her head.
“You’ll get past it,” Meryl predicted. She turned her attention to the couples on the dance floor. After a long pause, she added, “If ever I’ve seen a man who could help a woman forget, it’s our shelving assistant.”
No! Holly wanted to scream. He makes me remember, not forget! But maybe that was part of the process, she reasoned. Maybe she had to remember before she could finally let go.
After three or four songs, Craig and Sarah returned to the table winded and calling for a fresh round of drinks. The conversation afterward was sparse as they simply enjoyed the clear night and the music. They were discussing the possibility of calling for their check when the band began playing another mellow song. Craig covered Holly’s hand. “I believe this is the one you’ve been saving for me.”
Holly wanted to refuse, but Meryl and Sarah were both watching her expectantly, and Holly just didn’t feel up to enduring their inevitable lectures if she turned him down. So she returned to the floor with Craig Ford.
Again, his right arm curved around her shoulders, and his left hand cradled her right. Once more, she nestled her cheek across that broad, hard chest and felt as though she’d finally reached a safe harbor.
“You didn’t say whether you approved of my choice,” he said as they swayed together.
“Approved?”
“Of the after-shave.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve always liked this
brand. I used to know someone who wore it.”
He folded her a little closer. “I wonder if I did.”
His voice held the plaintive sadness that she’d seen so often in his eyes. His chest rose beneath her cheek as he drew a deep breath, and sank as he released it in a rush. “Why don’t you know me?” he asked, then added desperately, “Why don’t you know my name?”
His intensity scared her. “I...” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t be expected to remember meeting someone she’d never met. “I wish I could help you.”
“Everything about you is familiar to me,” he said. “The way you feel against me. The way your hair smells. The way you move.”
“You want to believe that you know me,” she said, lifting her head and putting some distance between them. “I look familiar, so you’re clinging to that. It’s only natural that you would. You don’t have anything else to grasp at.”
“I know what you would taste like if I kissed you.”
“Do you think I wouldn’t remember a man I’d kissed?”
His face was grave. “Put your cheek back on my chest, Holly. Where it belongs.”
Trembling, she did as he instructed. It felt right—too right.
She closed her eyes. God help her, but it felt right.
The second the music ended and she righted herself from the backward dip, she ran to the table, where Meryl and Sarah were studying the check.
She was still trembling as she sat down. Craig was only steps behind her.
“We decided that since everyone had the same things, we’d just split it four ways. Is that agreeable?”
Holly and Craig indicated that it was. “What does it come to?” Craig said, taking out his wallet. Meryl told them.
Holly felt numb as she opened her purse. Why her? Why, of all people, did she have to be the one to look familiar to him?
“We’ve decided to take a walk on the beach before we leave,” Sarah announced.
“It’s such a beautiful night,” Meryl chimed in.
Holly smelled a setup, but chose not to make an issue of their manipulation. She found the ocean soothing, a good place to think. As much as she resented their attempts to push her into a relationship, a walk along the water’s edge might prove therapeutic.
Look into My Eyes Page 4