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Memories After Midnight

Page 16

by Linda Randall Wisdom


  “You can’t do that.”

  “It’s called protective custody.” He spat out the words.

  “And I’ll just call Will to free me,” she threatened. She leaned in until her nose almost touched his. “Now I get it. No wonder we got divorced. It was all you, wasn’t it? You and your ‘I am in charge, listen to me’ mentality. I don’t need you! I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much.” She wrenched herself free from his hold and stepped off the curb.

  Within a split second the sound of a car engine revving registered in Dylan’s mind. He reached out and yanked Alex back at the same time as a car horn sounded just before it raced past.

  Alex’s breasts were flattened against Dylan’s chest as he held her tightly with one arm wrapped around her waist. The roaring in her ears didn’t allow her to hear anything except the rapid thump of her heart, echoed by the racing beat of Dylan’s pulse.

  “So help me, Alex, if you have an accident I will drop you like a stone,” he said in a ragged breath that revealed exactly how shaken up he was. “Take a deep breath, then another.” He waited while she followed his instructions.

  Alex trembled with fear. “I could have been killed,” she whispered. “If you hadn’t grabbed me, that car would have hit me!”

  “Any chance you saw the license plate?” he asked.

  “I was too busy watching my life flash before my eyes. Um, Dylan.” She lowered her voice. “You can let go of me right now. People are looking.”

  He slowly lowered her until her feet touched the ground. He still kept a light grip on her arm until he knew she wasn’t going to keel over.

  “Is she all right?” a woman asked with a cell phone up to her ear.

  “She’s fine,” Dylan said, not taking his eyes off Alex’s paler-than-normal features.

  “Maybe I should call the police,” the woman offered. “That idiot didn’t even slow down!”

  “I am the police.” He turned to show her his shield clipped to his belt.

  The woman nodded and moved on, continuing with her phone conversation. “You’ll never imagine what just happened!” could be heard as she walked away.

  “At least I won’t end up on the late-night news.” Alex gulped. “I really need to sit down,” she whispered.

  Dylan looked around until his gaze lit on a familiar structure. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him.

  The minute she realized where he was going, Alex dug in her heels. “We can’t go in there!”

  “Why not?” He continued walking, which meant so did she.

  “Because I’m not properly dressed to go inside,” Alex argued.

  Dylan rolled his eyes. “Last I looked they don’t have a dress code, Al.”

  “But they also don’t expect anyone to show up wearing what I am.”

  He stopped and took an extra-long look at her, beginning at the top of her head and ending up at her bare toes. By the time he finished, Alex felt a simmering heat on every part of her body his gaze had lingered over. She shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Trust me, you look fine,” he said huskily, turning and taking the last steps that took them inside Dante’s Café.

  Dylan’s smile at the waitress was returned full force. She registered disappointment when he veered left into the bar. Due to the early hour only two customers were in there, making use of a corner table that didn’t afford a lot of light. Dylan hazarded a guess that the cozy couple were married and probably not to each other. Instead of choosing one of the other tables that would have afforded them privacy, he headed straight for the bar.

  “Hey, barkeep, can we have two strong coffees with a whiskey chaser?” he greeted the bartender as he guided Alex onto one stool and took the one next to her.

  Celeste Dante lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a bit early for the hard stuff?” She then noticed Alex, especially the dazed look in her eyes, and wasted no time filling two cups with coffee and topping them off with a healthy measure of brandy. “What happened?”

  “Alex didn’t follow the rules taught to her since childhood. Namely, look both ways before you cross the street. Some idiot almost ran her over,” he said tersely.

  “That’s right. Dylan did say you were married to Luc Dante,” Alex said, needing to latch on to anything that smacked of normalcy.

  “Yes, I am. I work here sometimes on my day off. This way I can keep an eye on hubby.” She grinned. “There’s nothing like knowing your wife, who’s armed and dangerous, is in the next room to keep you on your best behavior.”

  “Yeah, like he’d ever stray.” Dylan grinned.

  Alex sipped her coffee and coughed as the brandy burned its way down her throat. “Are you sure there’s any coffee in here?” she gasped as Dylan pounded her on the back.

  “There’s enough in there for it to qualify as coffee.” Celeste poured a cup of coffee for herself but left out the brandy. “After everything else that’s happened, do you think it was deliberate?”

  “Hard to say, except the driver honked his horn as a warning just before he raced past,” Dylan grumbled. “Couldn’t get a license number, though.”

  “It’s been what, four days since this all began? I feel as if I’m ending up an unwanted parcel,” Alex said in a low voice, wrapping her fingers around her cup and relishing the warmth.

  Celeste picked up the cordless phone set behind the bar and handed it to Dylan. “If you don’t call him and he finds out, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

  Dylan swallowed a curse. As he started to take it out of her hand, his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, mouthed Alan Whitmire’s name and answered it. The more he talked, the lighter his mood. He was grinning from ear to ear when he disconnected the call.

  “We finally got a hit on the fingerprints found on your suitcase,” he told Alex. “Ever hear of anyone named Leonard Hart?”

  Wide-eyed, Alex shook her head. “He’s the one who attacked me?”

  “Admittedly, he could claim he didn’t attack you, but he can’t explain away his prints on your suitcase,” he said. “It’s a beginning, babe.”

  Alex squealed and leaned over to hug him, and kissed him warmly. She would have fallen off the stool if he hadn’t slid his arm around her waist.

  He kept his arm around her. “I need to bring you good news more often,” he murmured.

  Her smile had her eyes gleaming. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  His voice was warm with promise. “Oh, honey, you know I will.”

  “You idiot! You coulda killed her,” he said coldly. He wished the boss had listened to him when he said he wanted to work alone. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack he carried in his shirt pocket and lit up.

  “How’d I know the accelerator would stick when she practically walked out in front of me?” his partner defended himself as he cruised one side street after another in search of the couple. He’d sped out of there the minute the cop yelled. So far they hadn’t seen a hint of them.

  “Now we’re going to have to dump this car, too.” He wondered if you could get an ulcer overnight. His stomach had sure had a lot of burning since the boss had sent them up here to get his property back.

  “Are we going to tell the boss about this?”

  “Are you kiddin’? You know what he’d do to us? What we need to do is get into her office.”

  He really hoped they’d be successful—before this job killed him.

  Chapter 9

  While the strong coffee Celeste served them should have jangled Alex’s nerves, the brandy actually helped settle them. She was glad they moved to a table where she could sit back and be more comfortable.

  The news they’d just received was most welcome. Dylan relayed the information about the near miss, and even if Detective Whitmore felt it was nothing more than coincidence, she still felt hopeful about the fingerprint identification. She only wished the name he gave Dylan was familiar to her.

  For now, she wou
ld be content to have what she called “normal time.”

  She turned her head and studied Celeste, who was dressed in a white silk tailored blouse and tailored black pants, the uniform for Dante’s Café bartenders and wait resses. Her short blond hair was cut in slightly shaggy layers that framed her delicate face and showed off brilliant blue eyes.

  Alex remembered meeting the restaurant owner, Luc Dante, a few times when she met clients at the café for lunch or came in on a date. She always thought his brooding handsome manner and his penchant for black clothing attracted a lot of women, but there was no doubt he loved his wife to distraction. She preferred someone more open. A man like Dylan, if she wanted to be honest with herself. She reminded herself that she once had Dylan and had given him up.

  Seeing the love that blazed between the couple sent a wave of longing through Alex. She thought of the journal lying in her night table drawer. She still hadn’t finished reading the contents. She knew what Dylan’s reaction would be if he knew about that book. He had already expressed his opinion on her need to know in an eloquent fashion.

  She mentally squared her shoulders and decided that for now she was going to sit there, drink her brandy-laced coffee and nibble on freshly made, herb-stuffed and bacon-wrapped mushrooms. She wanted something in her life to be normal even if she could only have it for an hour or two. She picked up her coffee cup and sipped the hot brew, allowing Dylan and Celeste’s conversation to flow past her.

  Even with all that had gone on just that day alone, she found herself able to sit there, relax and even enjoy herself. When she looked over at Dylan, she was gifted with a smile that warmed her from the inside out.

  That warm, wonderful smile of his was one of the first things that drew me to him. But then what caused me to discard him?

  Dylan had only meant to bring her into Dante’s Café so she would have a nice quiet place to fall apart if that was going to happen. After what she just went through he would understand it happening. He knew Celeste would be working today even if he would have to deal with her questions. She tended to be nosier than the typical bartender.

  He was relieved to see some color return to Alex’s cheeks and that she was actually relaxed enough to eat. For someone who used to believe a big meal was a bunch of fancy lettuce leaves, he was happy to let her have most of the stuffed-mushroom platter Luc had deposited on the table they eventually moved to.

  He studied her, realizing he wasn’t looking at the Alex he met, fell in love with and married after a whirlwind courtship. If he thought about it, he would understand he was looking at the woman who had haunted his dreams when he slept alone in the bed they’d purchased together. It was the first thing he’d gotten rid of, and even then he couldn’t sleep properly. Now he looked at an Alex he could fall in love with again. Back then he loved the career-driven, and more-than-a-little-anal Alex, but there had been times when he wondered what would happen if she would just let go and be the cute, funny and sweet woman he sensed was inside.

  Don’t get sucked into that black hole again, he warned himself. Look what happened to you the last time.

  “Whitmire has to believe this wasn’t a coincidence,” Celeste said.

  “I think he would have been happier if we’d gotten a license number or even the make and model of the vehicle,” he replied.

  She turned to Alex. “Deep down, do you think it was deliberate?”

  Alex looked off into the distance. “No,” she said finally. “With everything that’s happened you’d think I would think the worst, but I don’t. I think it was nothing more than a careless driver.”

  Celeste nodded as if she understood. “I guess I better get back to the bar,” she said, standing up. “Why don’t you two stay for dinner?” She lightly touched Alex’s shoulder. “Just remember, Alex, you’re a strong woman. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve heard it before, but no matter how your lack of memory comes out, look at it as a second chance. We don’t get too many of those.” She shot Dylan another knowing look before she walked away.

  “Celeste is right about dinner. I’ll have a private table set up for you.” Luc rose to his feet and moved into the dining room.

  “See, I told you we don’t need to worry about a dress code,” Dylan told Alex. He stood up and pulled Alex’s chair out for her when Luc returned to tell them their table was ready.

  “You’ll have some privacy here,” Luc told them, directing them to a corner table where a waitress soon brought them a basket of warm sourdough rolls and garlic butter along with a bottle of wine she explained was courtesy of the house.

  “I should bring you here more often,” Dylan teased Alex after their wine had been poured and they were left with menus. “They usually try to sit me by the kitchen. I’ve long suspected that Celeste has something to do with that.” He peered closer. “Are you okay? No aftereffects from your close call?”

  Alex shook her head. She set her menu to one side. “No. In fact, the past couple of hours have been very nice. I even came to a decision. I’ve decided I don’t want any more adventure,” she informed him. “I intend to go to sleep tonight and wake up to a nice quiet life no matter what.”

  “Honey, that’s something we all wish for. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to work out that way.” Dylan looked up as the waitress approached them. “Do you know what you want?”

  “I think I’ll have the braised lamb with sour-orange marinade and garlic ranch dressing on my salad.”

  “And I’ll have the hot tempered baby back ribs with sweet guava sauce, Catalina dressing on my salad,” he told the waitress. He turned back to Alex. “You know you’ve been eating more in the past few days than I used to see you eat in weeks.”

  “Nearly dying does things to a person. No more fat-free anything. I can always spend a little extra time on the treadmill.” She picked up a roll and spread it liberally with the garlic butter.

  Dylan grinned back. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he and Alex were on a date. The candlelight managed to mask her cuts and bruises, and she had a free and happy look on her face he had never seen before. Even when he first met her, he saw the driven attorney and fell in love with that woman without thinking of future consequences that eventually tore them apart. But the Alex he was getting to know now had no desire to talk about her work or the number of billable hours she needed for the month.

  If he believed in making wishes, he’d wish that the lost part of her memory would never return. He saw an Alex he would like to take a chance on. Except he knew there would always be that niggling worry in the back of his mind that the entire truth about the disintegration of their marriage would come out. He liked the idea of a clean start, but gossip about their divorce wasn’t something he could keep from her. Dylan knew if Alex didn’t eventually remember everything, he would have to sit down with her and at least tell her his side of the story. If he was lucky, maybe she wouldn’t hate him all over again.

  For now, he was determined not to allow those thoughts to haunt him. Instead he wanted to enjoy this time with her as if they were on a date. Or even as if they were an old married couple having a nice evening out.

  As they ate their meal Alex shared several bites of her lamb with Dylan, while he offered her one of his ribs.

  “Thinking ahead?” he asked, seeing her gaze drifting toward the dessert cart more than once.

  “Definitely.” She forked up some of her herbed potatoes. “So, Dylan, tell me what you’ve been doing for the past two years. Has there been anyone serious in your life? Done anything exciting?” She smiled expectantly.

  Dylan thought she was teasing him, then he saw the sincerity in her gaze. He didn’t think she’d want to be told about some of his more outrageous alimony payments. No, it was best he not mention any of that. The idea of making up a glamorous supermodel girlfriend didn’t seem right, either.

  “No one serious,” he admitted. “Nothing exciting. I did fly up to Alaska last year for some salmon fishing with some of the g
uys.”

  “Did you catch anything?”

  “I still have some really nice king salmon steaks in my freezer. It was a great trip, but I discovered my stomach and the open water don’t mix.” He saw the faint look of longing on her face. If they had still been married last year, would he have gone? Most of the guys who went were married, but the wives opted to stay home. He told himself it wasn’t a good idea to get into “what ifs” because he knew that was another dangerous path he dared not tread. When he thought about it, he couldn’t believe how many subjects he felt it was best not to bring up. “Otherwise, it was a good trip,” he finished. But Alex wasn’t finished with him. She drew him out on cases he’d worked on in the past two years and he mentioned the cruise to Australia his parents took a year ago. By the time they were ready to order dessert, he’d caught her up on everything, except to do with their divorce.

  Alex closed her eyes in pure bliss as she savored her dessert, a sinful raspberry and white chocolate cake. “Try some.” She leaned across the table with a piece on her fork. Dylan circled her wrist with his fingers as he slowly closed his mouth over the sweet morsel.

  “Delicious,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on her. He returned the favor with his almond praline cheesecake.

  “I think you’ll have to roll me out of here,” Alex joked as Dylan asked for the check.

  “I’ll see if I can find a wheelbarrow,” he teased as Luc approached them.

  “Our treat,” Luc told him with a smile warming his normally stern features. “Celeste said you needed something like this,” he turned to Alex. “After everything that has gone on, I’d say you need it more than Dylan. You should come in more often. You don’t even have to bring him with you.”

  “Do you know what’s funny? I hear that everywhere.” She smiled back. “Thank you, Luc.”

  When they stepped outside, Alex looked around to find that night had fully descended. The old-fashioned-style streetlamps dotting the sidewalks lit up the area with an historic charm. Shops along the street had their doors open in invitation to come in and browse and purchase.

 

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