Jane thought for a moment and then said, “six years and a few odd months. I guess I’ve pounded out something like three hundred columns so far.”
“Gees,” I said. “I’d think you’d run out of stuff to write about after a while.”
“I’ve managed to recycle a few of my columns,” Jane said. “Every now and then I just run dry and take one of the older columns and reword it a bit and send it back in. If anyone noticed, they never said anything about it, at least not to me.”
“And you write these columns right here at home?” I said.
“That’s the other great part of the job,” Jane said. “I don’t even have to get dressed or leave the house to do my job. I just bang out the column on the computer and send it in and they send me a check once a month. Now you see why I don’t go into town unless I absolutely have to.”
“Sounds ideal for you,” I said.
“But not for you?” Jane said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But something tells me I live someplace with a lot of people around me. This living out in the middle of nowhere just feels foreign to me, but I don’t know why.”
“Just relax,” Jane said. “Maybe if you don’t try to force the memories, they’ll just come back on their own.”
“Could I just stretch out here on the couch?” I said. “I’m still a little tired.”
“Sure,” Jane said. “I can go in the other room and be quiet for you. I’ll come and wake you up a little later. Don’t want to sleep all day, or you won’t be able to get to sleep tonight.” She tiptoed out of the room and disappeared behind another door on the other side of the kitchen.
I lifted my legs up onto the couch and laid my head on the armrest. It didn’t take long for sleep to overtake me.
I don’t know how long I was out but I awoke to Jane’s hand on my shoulder, nudging me and gently telling me to wake up. She kept calling out, “Ray.” I opened my eyes and blinked. She was still calling me Ray and I sat up. “What was that you called me?” I said.
“Ray,” Jane said. “Since I don’t know your name, I just picked Ray because you seemed to like the Raymond Chandler book. Can I call you Ray until you remember your real name?”
“I guess so,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be a real hoot if my name turned out to be Ray?”
Jane laughed. “It would indeed,” she said. “Are you hungry?”
“Didn’t we just have breakfast?” I said.
“That was almost five hours ago,” Jane said. “I didn’t think I should let you sleep any longer. Come on, I’m fixing lunch for us.”
I got up off the couch and finger combed my hair back. The floor felt a bit cold until I realized that I was still barefoot. I sat at the kitchen table and yawned as Jane brought a pan from the stove over to where I was sitting and poured some soup in the bowl in front of me. Then she brought me a small plate with a grilled cheese sandwich on it.
“Thank you,” I said, picking up my spoon and dipping it into the bowl. “Mmm, this is good. Did you make it yourself?”
Jane sat across from me and smiled. “No,” she said, “but I opened the can myself.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder.
I looked at the counter next to the stove. The empty can sat there. It seemed to be staring at me and I stared back at it, not sure why I was fascinated with it. Jane caught me staring at the soup can.
“What is it, Ray?” she said. “Did you remember something?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “There’s just something familiar and I don’t know what it is.”
Jane turned around to look where I was looking. She read the soup can aloud. “Cream of Chicken,” she said. “Maybe your name is Eddie Cream of Chicken.” She laughed and then stopped herself. “I’m sorry. I know it must be frustrating for you not to know.” She turned around again and gave the can another look. “Campbell’s. Maybe you’re Elroy Campbell. Does that ring any bells?”
“Campbell,” I said. “No, I don’t think so. And another thing, I don’t know what my name is, but I’m pretty sure it’s not Ray. I would think it would almost have to start with an E, like this,” I said, pointing to the monograms on my shirt pocket.
“Should I just call you Eddie for now?” Jane said.
“That’s as good a name as any,” I said, taking a bite out of the grilled cheese sandwich.
When we finished lunch Jane cleared away the dishes and we returned to the living room. This time Jane sat next to me on the couch, her laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of us.
“I’m all done writing for today,” Jane said. “Would you like to read one of my books or maybe you’d like to watch a movie with me.”
“A movie sounds good,” I said. “I don’t think I could concentrate on a book. I usually listen to them.”
“What’s that?” Jane said. “You listen to books?”
My brows furrowed. “How did I know that?” I said. “Somehow I just knew that I listened to books instead of reading them.”
“See?” Jane said. “Your memory will eventually come back a little at a time. It could take a while, but I think you’ll be all right one of these days. So, how about that movie? Do you have any favorites?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “Why don’t you just pick one out?”
Jane got up from the couch and walked over to the bookshelf holding the DVDs. She ran a finger across the spines, stopped and turned back to me. “How about either Sergeant York or It’s A Wonderful Life?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
Jane pulled a DVD off the shelf and brought it over to the couch. She inserted the disc and a picture automatically filled the screen. There were a few paragraphs of disclaimers and warnings followed by the movie’s title. Music played and in large, bold letters across the screen it said, Sergeant York. The screen cleared and the star’s name came on. ‘Gary Cooper’ it said in bigger letters and right below that it said ‘Joan Leslie’ and ‘Walter Brennan’.
I blinked and tried to focus my eyes. “Who is that star?” I said. “You know, the one playing Sergeant York?”
“That’s Gary Cooper,” Jane said. “Do you remember who he is? Is something coming back to you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said. “Oh, it’s just so frustrating not knowing.”
“It’ll come,” Jane said. “Give it time. Do you still want to watch the movie?”
“Sure,” I said. “What else is there to do?”
Jane smiled at me. “I’m sure I could think of something.”
Jane ran her fingers over the top of my knee and up across my chest. She caressed my face with a smooth hand and played a finger around the inside of my ear. Before I knew what was happening, she’d leaned in and kissed me, and surprisingly enough, I kissed her back. I still remembered how to do that. She wrapped her arms around my head and pulled me close. Without unlocking our embrace, she reached down and shut the cover on her laptop, stopping the movie that played in the background.
Jane broke away from me and stood, extending her hand out to me. I took it and she pulled me to a standing position and led me out of the room and back through the kitchen into the door on the other side of that room. She opened the door and I could see that this must be her bedroom. She pulled me inside and closed the door, pushing me down onto the bed.
Afterwards, we laid there, just catching our breath and listening to each other’s heartbeat.
“You could always just stay here with me,” Jane said, and then though better. “No, I guess you wouldn’t like that once your memory comes back and you remember that someone may be waiting at home for you.” She ran her fingers over my bare chest for a few seconds and then rolled away from me and sat up on the edge of the bed. She grabbed a bathrobe and wrapped herself up in it, tying it at the waist. She disappeared into another door, which I assumed to be her bathroom.
I got out of bed myself and dressed again, still shoeless. I sat back down on the bed and talked to Jane throu
gh the closed door. “Why is it you’re not married?” I said.
“I never found Mr. Right, I guess,” she answered. “What about you?” Then she remembered that she’d already asked me if I was married and quickly changed the subject. “You know, it just occurred to me that we could drive into Barstow tomorrow and let the police fingerprint you. They could find out who you are pretty quick.”
Police, I thought. Maybe I was a cop. I seem to remember something about being around policemen. “That’s a good idea,” I said. “Are you sure your car won’t make it today yet?”
“It has to cool down overnight,” Jane said. “Trust me, you wouldn’t want to get stranded in this desert. The buzzards would have you picked clean before the day was out. Tomorrow we should be good to go.”
I heard the shower running and figured Jane couldn’t hear me anymore, so I walked back out to the living room and sat again. Ten minutes later Jane emerged from her bedroom, fully dressed and running a brush through her hair. She sat next to me and kept brushing her hair.
“Now why couldn’t I have met you under normal circumstances?” she said. “That’s just my luck. I find a nice guy and have to give him back.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe they’ll find out who I am and there won’t be anyone wondering where I went. There is that possibility, you know.”
Jane stopped brushing and held my hand. “If only,” she said. “Eddie, I have an idea that might help you remember.” She opened the lid of her laptop and went to one of the search engines. “What about if we find a listing of male names that start with an E and see if anything strikes a familiar chord with you?”
“Sure,” I said. “What have we got to lose?”
Jane typed in the search criteria and hit Enter. Hundreds of links came up with baby names. Clicking the link brought us to another screen with the twenty-six letters of the alphabet on it. Jane clicked E and waited. A list of names filled the screen and Jane began to read them aloud.
“Earl,” she said, and waited for a response from me. Nothing. “Edgar,” she read. Again nothing. Edward, Edwin, Eldon, Elijah, Elliott, Elmer, Elroy, Emil, Eric, Ernie, Eugene,” she went on.
“Wait a second,” I said. Go back a few names.”
Jane started at the bottom of the list and read them in reverse order. “Eugene, Ernie, Eric,” she said.
“Eric,” I said. “That name sounds familiar for some reason. Eric, Eric. Gees, I know that name, but nothing’s coming to me.” I had no way of knowing that Lieutenant Eric Anderson was creeping into my subconscious. “No, I’m not an Eric,” I said. “I’m almost sure of that. Go on.”
“Emil, Elroy, Elmer,” Jane said. She paused to see if there was any reaction from me. Still nothing. She read on. “Elliott, Elijah, Eldon.” She stopped and waited for me to comment.
“They’re all starting to sound familiar now,” I said. “That Elliott name sounded a little familiar. I think maybe I might have heard of some Elliott narrating some audio books in the past.”
Jane thought for a moment. Although she preferred reading books to listing to books, she was familiar with the entire Raymond Chandler library of audio books. “Could you be thinking of Elliott Gould?” she said. “He narrated all of the Chandler stories on tape.”
“And I remembered that I used to listed to audio books,” I said. “Maybe that’s where I know the name from.”
Jane closed her laptop and sighed. “Well,” she said. “It was worth a try anyway. I guess we’ll know tomorrow when we drive to Barstow.”
“Jane,” I said. “No matter how this turns out, I just want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I won’t forget it.”
“You might want to forget some of it if it turns out you’re married,” she said. “Know what I mean?”
I nodded. “We were interrupted before,” I said. “Do you still want to watch that movie on the DVD in your laptop?”
“All right,” Jane said, flipping the laptop open again and starting the DVD player feature.
Halfway through the movie, I turned to Jane. “Who did you say this guy, Alvin York was?” I said.
“Just the most decorated soldier of World War I,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I mean who did you say was playing him?”
“Gary Cooper,” Jane replied. “Why?”
I shook my head, still confused. “Maybe this isn’t my shirt,” I said. “And maybe my name doesn’t start with an E like we thought. His name is awfully familiar to me. You don’t think my name’s really Gary, do you?”
“I don’t think so,” Jane said. “A guy like you wouldn’t be wearing someone else’s shirt. And that tie I took off your wrists matches your outfit. No, I’d say it’s your shirt and your initials really are E C.”
*****
Gloria dialed the Holiday Inn in Las Vegas and asked for Elliott Cooper’s room. The clerk told her to wait while he checked the register. He came back on the line a few seconds later.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but we don’t have an Elliott Cooper registered here. Are you sure you have the right motel?”
Gloria checked the note Elliott had given her before he left and read its contents to the clerk. “Holiday Inn on Koval Lane, Las Vegas,” she said.
“Yes, that’s us,” the clerk agreed, “but we don’t have anyone named Cooper staying with us.”
“Is your motel sponsoring a convention for private investigators this week?” Gloria asked.
“Yes we are,” the clerk said. “It started at noon today in the main ballroom.”
Gloria tried another idea. “Can you check to see if you had a reservation for an Elliott Cooper, please?”
A moment later the clerk said, “Why, yes, we did. We were expecting him shortly before midnight last night. It’s been more than twelve hours and when someone doesn’t keep their reservation, it is our policy to charge the customer’s credit card for one night’s stay. I’m sure you understand.”
“I’m not concerned about the credit card charge,” Gloria said, her voice louder now. “I just want to know where my husband is.”
“I’m sorry,” the clerk repeated, “but that’s all I know. Now if you will excuse me, I have guests waiting to register.” He hung up and Gloria sat there with the phone in her hand, dumbfounded. Gloria hung up the phone, immediately picked it up again and dialed Lieutenant Eric Anderson at the twelfth precinct.
“Lieutenant Anderson,” the voice on the other end said.
“Eric,” Gloria said. “It’s Gloria Cooper.”
“Yes, Gloria,” Eric said. “How are you holding up, what with the baby so close to being due?”
“Fine,” Gloria said. “But that’s not important right now. Elliott’s missing.”
“Missing?” Eric said. “What happened?”
“He left here in his car last night around eight,” Gloria said. “He was driving to a convention in Las Vegas. He should have checked in more than twelve hours ago and no one’s seen him. I’m worried, Eric. Isn’t there something you can do?”
“Give me the license number and a description of his car,” Eric said. “I get an all points out to our city patrols. I’ll also make sure the California and Nevada State Police Departments get the bulletin. Do you happen to know what route he was taking?”
“We looked it up on the web and there were three routes showing,” Gloria explained. “I remember he picked the shortest, fastest route and that’s the one that went through Barstow.”
“That would take him on Two-Ten out of town and he’d most likely catch Interstate Fifteen north into Las Vegas,” Eric said. “I’ll have the State Police check that route. There’s a lot of desert between Barstow and Las Vegas. If he broke down on Fifteen, someone would have seen him. Are you sure he didn’t do anything foolish, like try to make up lost time on some back road as a shortcut?”
“I don’t think he’d do anything like that,” Gloria said. “But who knows with Elliott. It’s a brand new car,
so I can’t imagine him having any trouble with it this soon. Will you let me know if you hear anything, Eric?”
“I’ve got your number on speed dial on my cell,” Eric said. “You’ll be the first to know if anything turns up.”
Gloria hung up the phone and was startled when it rang almost immediately. “Elliott?” she said.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Gloria,” Clay said. “But it’s just me.”
“Oh, Clay,” Gloria said. “I was just going to call you. Elliott’s missing.” She told Clay everything she’d just told Lieutenant Anderson and let Clay know what Eric had told her.
“Don’t panic,” Clay said. “I’m sure Elliott’s all right. Maybe he just had some car trouble or something simple like that. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
“But he has a cell phone,” Gloria said. “You would think if he had any trouble that he’d at least call and let me know. I haven’t heard a thing from him.”
“You know,” Clay said. “Some of those remote areas in the desert don’t get cell reception. That doesn’t mean anything. If he’s having any trouble, he might have slept in his car and maybe he’s walking to the nearest town as we speak. As soon as he gets somewhere that has cell reception, he’ll call. You just wait.”
“I hope so,” Gloria said. “This isn’t like him at all.”
“Let me check around,” Clay said. “If I find out anything I’ll call you and you do the same if you hear anything. I’ll have my cell on.”
Gloria agreed and hung up the phone, not sure who to call or what to do next.
Clay made sure his cell phone was fully charged before he closed it and hurried into the kitchen, where he filled a gallon jug with ice water. He locked his house and carried the jug out to his car. Before he left town, he stopped and filled his tank. He got onto Two-Ten and just kept going. He kept going until he saw the Interstate Fifteen sign ahead. He took the exit and headed north towards Barstow, all the while keeping an eye out his window for signs of Elliott and his new car.
He exited at Barstow and pulled in the filling station just off the Interstate. He parked up close to the building and went inside. He dug a picture of Elliott out of his wallet and held it up to the clerk behind the counter.
The Complete Cooper Collection (All 97 Stories) Page 225