Out of Sight Out of Mind (Choc Lit)
Page 7
Jay eased himself carefully on to the couch, still looking around.
‘Now that is very you,’ he said softly.
‘You think so?’ She followed his gaze to the single personal item in the room – a framed print of a harbour scene, bright with colour. Pastel-painted houses clustered around a tiny marina. She could look at it now, without flinching. She’d been wondering when he’d get to it. ‘It’s Portofino. In Italy. D’you recognise it?’ she added casually.
‘Can’t say that I do.’ He turned his head from the picture. ‘Think that will work? Sneaking up on me with stuff I might remember?’
‘Probably not, but always worth trying.’ She’d washed her hands and was preparing a syringe. ‘If you don’t like needles, look away now.’
‘Ouch.’ He was a fraction too slow in moving his arm out of her reach. ‘What’s in that?’
‘Truth serum,’ she responded, unblinking. She grinned as his eyes widened. ‘In a way it is.’ She pulled over a stool, to sit beside him. ‘It makes a subject – oh – less anxious about the results of the experiment.’
‘Loss of inhibitions?’ This time his eyes narrowed. ‘Am I going to wake up in an hour or so, to find you have film of me flapping my arms and crowing like a rooster?’
‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ She picked up his wrist, to check the pulse. Easiest thing in the world. Only the slightest flicker over skin on skin. ‘I do video some sessions, but not today. Now, relax, stop talking and let me work.’
‘Yes, Doc. Eyes open or eyes shut?’
She gave him her best professional glare. ‘That is entirely up to you.’
She slid gently into his mind and hovered, assessing the situation. It felt surprisingly warm. As if he was welcoming her. But there was pain and tension under the surface that the drug hadn’t dispelled. She refined the probe and moved in.
Madison flipped through her notes, sucking her pencil, then doodled a small diagram in the margin, a map of what she’d encountered in Jay’s head. She studied it, clarifying her thoughts. The wall, barrier, whatever you wanted to call it, was clearly delineated. A regular shape, with a surface that she could only describe to herself as smooth. She’d explored the whole of the perimeter, ending back where she’d begun, only marginally wiser. She tapped the pencil against her teeth. Natural aberrations, like those caused by injury, were softer, uneven and sprawling. She caught herself up. She was doing it again. Defining this thing as unnatural. But if it wasn’t natural—
She lifted her eyes as the door opened. Jonathan leaned in around it.
‘This is where you’re hiding.’ He slid into the room. ‘What have you done with—?’
‘Shh.’ Madison put her finger to her lips and inclined her head towards the couch. The drug and her gentle suggestion, as she slid out of his mind, had sent Jay into a light doze, while she made up her files.
‘Is that him?’ Jonathan came to stand beside her. He rolled his eyes. ‘I take back everything I said last night about throwing him out. Darling, he’s gorgeous. No wonder you wanted to keep him.’
‘He did scrub up rather well, didn’t he?’ She regarded Jay, then Jonathan, thoughtfully. For an incorrigible gossip, Jonathan could be remarkably good at keeping secrets, but she wasn’t going to confide in him today. Right now she wasn’t planning to share the finer points of this – or maybe that should be the murkier points of this – with anyone. Not until she had a better idea of what she was dealing with. She shuffled papers, trying to recall exactly how much had spilled out in last night’s over-excited phone call, wincing inwardly as she remembered an uncharacteristic babble about power and connection. She really had been out of herself. Nothing to do now but keep it cool and casual.
‘I’ve done some preliminary work.’ She indicated the file. ‘He seems a particularly receptive subject. Possibly the best I’ve ever found.’ She was quite safe going that far. ‘He’s willing to stay around for a couple of weeks. So—’ She smiled and shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
Jonathan shot her a puzzled look. ‘One for the journals, then?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Well, if he doesn’t work out for you, you can certainly send him over to us. I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty pair of ears.’ Jonathan’s specialty was sound and hearing.
‘You’re a sucker for a pretty anything.’
Jonathan nodded, grinning. ‘This is true.’ He reached out to hug her. ‘Hope it works out, sweet pea.’ He threw another glance over at Jay. ‘And if you want me and Ash, you know where we live.’
‘I do. And I appreciate the way you both take care of me.’ She reached up to kiss his cheek, turning him gently towards the door. ‘Go now. I need to finish up here, before I wake sleeping beauty.’
Jonathan stopped in the doorway ‘And you know how to do that, don’t you, darling?’
‘Go!’ Madison made a rude gesture. Jonathan laughed and went.
Madison stacked a clip of papers and files and dropped them in the out tray before looking back at her notes and the diagram. The session hadn’t gone badly, except for a niggling worry that had thrown her off balance. This time she hadn’t been able to talk to Jay when she was inside his mind. There’d been just a blankness when she’d tried to form the words and get him to respond. He could still feel her inside his head, but all she’d got was the usual miasma of emotion and sensation. He was tired – no, make that exhausted – but neither that, nor the drug she’d administered, should have dampened his responses to that extent.
She sat with her chin buried in her hand. She had to figure out how to get that communication back. Or did she? Was that just something she wanted? Would it affect the wall, or was it just a blind alley? Maybe it was simply fatigue, dulling his reactions? She shelved the problem and moved over to the couch. Jay’s hair was flopping over his face. The lines and shadows of tension had smoothed out a little in sleep, but not enough. She made a mental note to find out more about headaches and nightmares, as she studied his mouth. From this angle, no, from any angle, without question, it looked pretty damn good. Jonathan had put an idea in her head and now it was trying hard to take root. It was only healthy and natural for a girl to wonder how a mouth like that might taste. Doesn’t mean you have to do anything about it.
With a sigh, Madison settled for patting Jay’s arm. He came awake with a start that had her pressing her hand to his chest, to stop him rolling and hurting himself. Firm, hard muscles, under her fingers. She dropped her hand, fast.
‘Hell.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘Can’t seem to stay awake.’ Madison saw realisation coming into his eyes. ‘That shot you gave me—’
‘The after effects are mildly sedative, that’s all.’ She held up her arms to show there was nothing up her sleeves. ‘When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep? Before last night?’
He got the point. ‘About … three months?’
‘Exactly.’ Madison stood aside as he swung his feet to the floor.
‘I take it you didn’t miraculously stumble over my whole life story, while you were in there?’ His voice was carefully neutral. Its very flatness constricted Madison’s chest, but there was no point in lying.
‘I have a clearer picture now of the barrier.’
‘That good, huh?’
‘It’s a start.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Let’s go home. What we need now is a plan, and food. Pizza. I always plan better over pizza.’
Madison walked away from the ATM with a bundle of notes in her hand. Jay was propped against the car; one arm was wrapped around the other, supporting his injured shoulder. She held out the bundle.
‘Your fee. One hundred pounds, as agreed.’
‘Should I give you a receipt?’ His mouth now was a hard flat line. It isn’t meant to look like that. He hadn’t moved.
‘Please, Jay, take t
he money. You need it.’ She curled her fingers over the notes, to protect them from the stiff breeze. ‘You were willing enough last night.’
‘Last night was last night.’ He still didn’t move. Madison looked down at the money and back at him. She didn’t need to ask what he meant. Twenty hours ago he’d been a derelict, on the make. Now there was a new man evolving in front of her. Food, warmth, shelter. The line between respect and the street was frighteningly narrow. ‘This isn’t just money, Jay. It’s independence, and a small measure of dignity. You think I don’t realise how hard this is for you? Accept it, please.’ He shifted his stance. She held her breath. After a couple of beats he held out his hand. She put the cash into it. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m the one who should be saying that.’ His voice cracked a little.
Wordlessly Madison shook her head. ‘If you want to shop, I’ll go and pick up some milk and then order the pizza. Meet you back here in half an hour?’ Jay nodded as she turned away. ‘Oh.’ She turned back. ‘What shall I order for you?’
‘Pepperoni, jalapeño, extra cheese.’ Jay swore softly. ‘Great – I can remember a pizza topping, but I can’t remember who I am.’
Scott was coming towards them across the lobby, with a package in his hand.
‘Good evening, Miss Albi. This just came for you. Can I get a signature?’
Jay shuffled the brand new backpack up his arm, to take the pizza cartons from her while she signed.
‘Scott, this is Mr Jackson.’ Madison waved her hand in introduction. Scott turned to face Jay. ‘He’ll be working with me for a while at the lab, so I’m letting him use the studio. Could you mention it to Sandra?’ she added casually, watching the concierge under her lashes.
‘Certainly, miss,’ Scott replied as he relinquished the parcel. ‘Hope you have a pleasant stay, sir. Anything you need, just let me know.’
Scott smiled, gave a small salute and went back to his desk. Silently Madison and Jay crossed the foyer. The lift doors closed behind them.
‘No recognition at all. He had no idea we’d already met.’ Jay propped the cartons against the lift rail for balance as the elevator jerked. ‘Looks like clothes do maketh man,’ he misquoted, mouth turned down.
‘The fashion industry certainly counts on it,’ Madison agreed absently as she checked the package – a covert DVD of bloopers and out-takes from the official proceedings of the convention she’d attended in Washington, DC. She grinned, shaking her head. One day someone was going to get into deep trouble for circulating these. She tucked it into her bag, pulling out her door keys. Scott’s reaction hadn’t surprised her. She’d have been more surprised if he had recognised Jay as last night’s tramp. With the potentially tell-tale bruises hidden by the high-collared sweater and freshly washed fall of dark hair, which also covered the cut over his brow, there was little to offer a clue. We see what we want to see. Expect to see. This is Mr X. He looks right, speaks right, smells right, even. And so we accept him.
She cast a sideways glance at Jay as the lift stopped. It wasn’t just the clothes that had made the change. It was everything about the man.
Just who the hell are you, Jay?
Chapter Six
‘Jalapeño.’ Madison wrinkled her nose as she pushed the carton across the coffee table to Jay and unwrapped her own anchovy and black olive. ‘You must have a throat lined with asbestos.’
‘I still don’t get it.’ Jay was helping himself generously from the tub of coleslaw. ‘Perfect recall – for a bloody pizza topping.’
‘Don’t stress while you eat, you’ll get indigestion.’
That got her a spectacular scowl. She wanted to give it a round of applause, but her hands and her mouth were fully occupied with crisp dough and melted cheese. She sighed contentedly, savouring the taste. Jay’s voice recalled her attention. ‘We have the pizza here, so when do we get to the plan?’
‘Patience.’ Madison caught an olive before it fell on to the table. ‘Eat first, talk after.’
Jay raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment when she put a mug of coffee down in front of him and settled into her seat with a pen and a clipboard.
‘This is what I have so far.’ She passed over her notes and the diagram. Jay studied it intently. She waited until he looked up.
‘This is unique, in your experience?’
Madison nodded, watching closely, but keeping her body language strictly in neutral.
‘And your experience is like … pretty wide?’
His eyes were clouded. If she went into him now, she knew she’d find fear, but he was doing a damn good job of not letting it show. Except for that tell-tale darkening of the eyes. His courage sent cat’s paws over her skin.
‘Pretty wide,’ she agreed. ‘What I’ve done so far is nothing more than a fishing expedition. The only way is to approach this systematically. We try one programme, in escalating steps. If that doesn’t work, we try another.’
‘Drugs? Like the one you used today?’
‘Mmmm. There are several possibilities. I already know what I want to use. You don’t have a problem with that?’
He shook his head. ‘Whatever it takes.’
She shifted in her seat, gathered her knees up under her chin, and took a breath. Now for the tricky part.
‘I’ll work on getting your memory back,’ she said levelly. ‘But there are more conventional ways of finding out who you are. I think we have to try those, too.’
‘You mean go to the police? I …’ He stopped. ‘I did that, after the hospital. Got as far as the front steps. I … I couldn’t go in …’ He put up a hand, rubbing his chest. ‘I was afraid that they’d think I was raving.’ He stopped again, hugging the coffee mug, chest rising and falling sharply. Madison leaned forward, with a quick flare of concern, as something dark passed over his face. Then it was gone. He gave a crooked shrug. ‘Missing adults aren’t really a priority for them, anyway.’
‘No – although it might be worth a shot. You could be on a list somewhere.’ She paused. Tried to sound casual. ‘Actually, I was thinking more of a private investigator.’
She waited for the eruption. It was there, in a heartbeat. Jay’s mug banged down, making the table shake.
‘Which you will pay for?’ he demanded.
‘Yes.’ She waved her hand at the room in which they were sitting, taking in the expensive furnishings, the soft sheen of an antique bureau, the muted glitter from a display cabinet of old Venetian glass, the state-of-the-art sound system. ‘Look around you, Jay. I have money. I inherited it.’ Her breath caught. ‘I make it. I can afford to fund you on this. Don’t keep fighting me over the same ground. It’s getting boring.’
She flounced back, sweeping up her coffee, taking a gulp of too-hot liquid and swallowing it, feeling the burn all the way down. When her watering eyes cleared, Jay was staring at her.
‘Okay.’ The sheepish expression on his face evaporated her annoyance.
Even so, she gave him a long look. He squirmed a little, then grinned. Her stomach fluttered. Why did a man with that half hang-dog, half cocky smile always cut right through a woman’s defences? This woman’s, anyhow. She hauled herself back to the job in hand.
‘Right, we have a private investigator.’ She ticked her list. ‘You know, if someone from your family is looking for you, we might get results very quickly.’
Jay’s silence made her look up. His face was blank. ‘You must have thought about the people who could be searching for you? Friends, family? You could have a wife – children,’ she suggested gently.
The total confusion in Jay’s face took her aback.
‘I’ve never … I’ve never thought of it.’ He looked stunned. ‘All this time … I don’t feel married.’ He held out his hands. Madison followed his gaze. Tanned skin, broad palms, capable fingers, with calluses sho
wing across the tips, as he turned them over and back.
‘No ring. And no mark of one.’
‘Not every man wears a ring. Or you could have hocked it.’
‘No.’ She saw him shiver. ‘If I was married, I would wear a ring. I know it. The way I knew about the pizza. No ring, no wife. Unless—’ His smile was lopsided. ‘Unless it’s her I’m running from.’
‘How does that feel?’ Madison leaned forward, intent. ‘The idea that you’re running from something?’
‘I don’t know. I could be. I have dreams sometimes, when it feels like I’m trying to get away from something.’ He pinched his fingers at the bridge of his nose. ‘Nothing is ever clear.’
‘You said you have headaches?’
He nodded. ‘Does that tell you anything?’
‘That your brain is trying hard to cope, perhaps to fight whatever has invaded it. Does the idea of a wife and children give you any kind of feeling, an emotion that you can identify?’
‘Blind panic?’ he suggested wryly. Madison pursed her mouth. He closed his eyes, opened them. ‘Nothing. We’re clutching at straws here, aren’t we?’
Madison shrugged. ‘I’d like you to think about it. Try to analyse whatever sensation it brings up. There’s something else, too.’ She tapped her fingers on the clipboard. ‘This one is a bit more off the wall—’ She stopped.
Jay was looking at her encouragingly. ‘All contributions gratefully received,’ he said.
Madison grimaced. ‘It may not be any use at all, but I work sometimes with a voice analyst. It’s part of a memory project that compares what people remember about the places they’ve lived, with the influences on their speech patterns and accents. I’d like to give her a recording of your voice, to see what she comes up with.’
‘Born in Timbuktu, educated in Greenland, that sort of stuff?’
Madison smiled. ‘Not as extreme as that, I hope.’
‘I’ll do it. Whatever you need, just bring it on.’ He frowned, examining an idea. ‘A private investigator – it would be like the reverse of what they must usually be asked to do. Won’t they think it’s a bit weird?’ He waved his hand. ‘Scrub that. I don’t care if they do think it’s weird.’ Excitement chased quickly across his face. ‘Do you really think there’s a chance?’