by Linda Ladd
“He’s a billionaire?”
“I don’t know, probably not. But he’s got a lot, I can tell you that.” He stopped. “I still cannot believe that you don’t remember him, of all people. He’s your guy.”
“I don’t remember much of anything, Bud. Some things, but they’re just little bits. I don’t remember the depth of our relationship, you know, the personal part. But I’m trying hard. So is he.”
“Yeah, I bet he is. He’s nuts about you. I bet he’s not handling this all too well, is he?’
Claire shook her head.
Bud leaned back in the chair and propped a foot on his opposite knee. “Know what you need about now, Morgan? You need to get the hell outta here and take a look-see around our little neck of the woods. That’s what’s gonna help you remember stuff. Hell, I’ll take you out seein’ the sights myself. Get your guns and let’s go.”
Claire laughed. “Amen, twice over. Dr. Black’s not sure I’m ready to be out and about. Thinks I’m still too shaky.”
“You don’t look shaky to me. A hell of a lot better than when you were laid up in that bed like some kind of white-faced zombie. Maybe skinnier than usual, but I reckon you could still beat me in the mile. I bet Nick hates you calling him that. It’s always Black, from the very beginning.”
“Why?”
“Beats me. That’s just you, Morgan, matter-of-fact as hell.”
“Well, you’re right. But whatever. I think I’m getting better. I remember how to be a cop. I’ve just blocked out a couple of years.”
“Retrograde amnesia. He told me.”
“I still know how to do my job. I haven’t forgotten that.”
“Crazy weird. But also good.”
“It’s just that he hovers all the time. I appreciate it, I do. How strange is it that we were together and I can’t remember much about it?”
“Ya’ll are über into each other, count on it. He’s probably just frustrated as hell. I would be.”
That pretty well summed it up. Claire didn’t need a full memory to recognize the desire in Black’s eyes. But enough about that, already. She didn’t say anything.
Bud eyed her for a second. “Well, c’mon, then, let’s get outta here. Fly the coop. Leave him a note and check yourself out. I’ll bring you back in one piece.”
She really, really wanted to take Bud up on that offer, but Nicholas Black had been pretty awesome to her. She hated to just up and take off without a word. But she was definitely feeling all caged up and antsy and yes, trapped. She just wanted to get out from under Black’s thumb for a while, meet other people, and see what her life outside the luxurious halls of Cedar Bend Lodge had been all about.
“Give the guy a call. Tell him I’ll take good care of you.”
Bud’s grin was absolutely charming and so was his deep Southern drawl. She bet girls fell in his wake like downed oaks.
“Where’re you from, Bud? Somewhere down South, I reckon.”
“Atlanta, Georgia, and proud of it. Go Bull Dogs.”
Bud Davis was a really cute guy. She wondered if she’d ever had a thing with him. “What about us, Bud? We ever, you know, have a fling?”
He looked quickly at her. “I wish. You always said you were too neat for me.”
“I’m neat?”
He laughed another genuine, heartfelt one. “No, I’m kiddin’, you’re pretty sloppy, to be honest. I’m the neat one. Just take a look at me. Sharp, huh?”
“Well, you dress well, judging by the you I see at the moment.”
“Wait until you remember me in my dress uniform. Or all dolled up for a weddin’.”
Claire liked this guy, Bud. She suspected she liked him a lot before her accident, too. He was going to be easy to get along with.
“Look, Morgan, pick up that phone and see what Nick says. I don’t wanna do anything that’ll put you back in that bed. Me, I don’t see the harm in takin’ you outta here, maybe down to the office for a nice little show-and-tell, then around the lake.”
“Me, either.”
“But if Nick thinks it’s a bad idea, I’ll back off. He’s the shrink and a helluva good doctor, too. Charlie’ll be glad to see you up and walkin’ around. You didn’t look so hot lyin’ there, hooked up to all those monitors, bandaged up, and half dead. You scared everybody to death when nobody could get you to wake up.”
“You know what, Bud? I think an outing with you is the best medicine I could have. You’re not exactly boring, Bud. What’s your last name again?”
Bud laughed. “Davis. Budweiser Davis.”
“Your name’s Budweiser? No way.”
“Yeah, my daddy had a funny sense of humor. His favorite beer, get it?”
Smiling, she picked up the phone and punched in Black’s private cell number. He answered on the first ring. “Yeah, Claire. Everything okay?”
“Sure. I’m fine. Bud’s here. We’ve been having a nice chat.”
“You remember him?”
“Not much, but I like him.”
Bud grinned and gave her two thumbs up. Guiltily, she realized that she already felt more comfortable around Bud than with Nicholas Black. Maybe that was because she and Bud weren’t romantically involved.
Black said, “That’s good. You’re getting better.”
For some reason, Claire hesitated, and then realized she didn’t want to offend him. On the other hand, she was bound and determined to go out with Bud and maybe get right back to work. “Listen, Black.” The name still didn’t roll easily off her tongue. “I’m going down to the sheriff’s office with Bud. See if that helps me.”
“I can’t go with you right now. I’m in the middle of a session.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be fine. Bud says he’ll be with me.”
A rather long hesitation followed. Claire waited him out. “I’m not sure you’re ready. I’d like to be around if you remember anything upsetting. You haven’t had enough time to get your strength back.”
“I’m going, Black.”
An audible sigh sounded at the other end. “Now that sounds more like the Claire I know and love.”
“Hey, Nick, don’t worry. I’ll take care of her,” Bud yelled. “I can show her around the jail and give her pictures of all the homicidal maniacs she’s locked up.”
Claire laughed softly.
Black said, “If you do go, don’t forget to take your cell phone. Let me talk to Bud a minute.”
She handed over the phone.
Bud listened carefully, but he winked at Claire. “Yeah, doc. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll keep her in my sight at all times.” He listened some more. “I know. I’ll take her by her house, too. You can pick her up there later.”
“It’s a go,” Bud said, handing her the phone. “You’re sprung. But don’t try to get away. I’m armed.”
The remark brought on a flood of disjointed visual images that streaked like shooting stars through her head: cleaning her weapon at the kitchen table. Two guns. She could see them clearly. “I own a Glock 9mm automatic and a .38 snub nose. I wear the Glock here”— she touched just under her left arm—“in a leather shoulder holster, right? And the .38 pistol goes on my right ankle.”
“Woo-hoo, Morgan, now we are cookin’. See what a good influence I am on you?”
“Where are my weapons? I want them back.”
“I forgot. You don’t got ’em, do you? Charlie took ’em. We retrieved them at the crime scene. He’s waitin’ for you to come in before he gives them back. He’s gonna be happy to lay eyes on you, I can tell you that.”
“Well, that settles it. Let’s get out of here.”
Outside, it was sunny and hot with a vivid blue sky and a slight breeze tossing the trees. It felt so good to have the sun on her face again. As it turned out, Bud drove a white Ford Bronco. She climbed into the passenger seat and looked around at all the bells and whistles and über luxuriousness going on outside Nicholas Black’s resort hotel. The grounds were as beautiful and immaculate as t
he inside was. There were well-tended landscaped gardens and grounds, verdant golf courses, and huge hanging baskets of petunias and salvia and other flowers that Claire did not remember the names of.
There was a large marina behind the hotel, several pools, the whole works. It was a miniature Disneyland. In Claire’s mind, she saw a big boat, and Black steering it, his black hair blowing back off his forehead, dark aviator sunglasses covering his eyes. As she and Bud drove away from the hotel proper, she recalled going down a road that led off to their left. There was a wood-sided cottage down that way, sitting right over the water. It was not one of the quick flashing images she usually got, but very clear and precise. A chill of reaction shot through her.
“Where’s the wood cottage on the water, Bud? The one down that way with a big deck and potted geranium plants. Something bad happened there, I’m sure of it.”
Bud glanced at her, nodding. “Yeah, we worked a particularly gruesome crime scene down there.”
“Oh, God,” she said, as a second disturbing image flashed like lightning. “There was a body under the water, a girl with blond hair. Sitting at a table.”
“Right on. You’re gettin’ close to gettin’ it all back now, Morgan. Hang in there. You’re gonna to remember me soon. Then you’ll love me even more.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Run some of our old cases for me.”
Listening to him give her the particulars on a couple of cases, Claire was a little shocked at the extreme grisly factor. “I thought this was supposed to be a quiet little backwoods hamlet on an equally calm lake.”
“Wrong. This place hops. Murderers seem to like our sunshine and beautiful views.”
The rest of the drive was pretty much light in mood, with Bud pointing out various points of interest and teasing her. When he pulled into the back parking lot of the sheriff’s office, a whole bunch of work-related stuff started flooding back.
“I’m remembering things right and left now, Bud. I do believe it is going to come back.” She suddenly felt elated.
“Good deal. Now let’s go see the boss. He’s quite a guy, has a vocabulary you won’t believe. Won’t like, either. Used to use the F-bomb every other word until his wife and preacher heard him and got all bent outta shape. Now he’s a bit more sedate. But not much more. Charlie’s one of a kind.”
Claire followed her very likeable partner into the sheriff’s office, more than wary as to what she would find inside, but very excited, too.
Jesse’s Girl
Three days after the accident
Jesse hated, loathed, despised, and detested Nicholas Black. He quivered all over whenever that name intruded into his mind. He actually shook physically with rage. His fingers clenched with overwhelming jealousy and the urge to get his hands around that man’s neck and strangle him until his eyes bulged and he died a terrible, slow, agonizing death. He burned with the desire to make him suffer for taking Annie away. She thought she loved Black now. But he had made her think that, and she didn’t. How could she? And now, according to the news reports, she was held captive in his lair, that big, fancy, ostentatious hotel called Cedar Bend Lodge.
The newspapers in Springfield and Camdenton both said she lay there in a deep coma, but he didn’t believe it. She was fine. Black was just holding her there against her will. But not for long. Jesse was already planning how he could rescue her. He had a home base now and had already settled Miss Rosie in her own bedroom. She was much more comfortable in the freezer, so he kept her there at night while he was sleeping. But he was preparing himself for his move. He’d dyed his hair brown and combed it forward like that Justin Bieber kid used to wear his hair and purchased dark brown contacts and large wire-rimmed glasses in the town of Osage Beach. Then he started growing a mustache and goatee. Despite all the publicity about the accident, nobody knew him; nobody even came close to recognizing him. According to the news accounts, the authorities thought him dead and washed away into the lake. Stupid fools. All so trusting; all so easy to dupe. He’d been able to pull the wool over people’s eyes all his life. Only difference was, he was extremely good at it now, better than ever.
The Cedar Bend Lodge was a busy place, lots of tourists, lots of staff members, many of them college kids only working for the summer. He could walk around freely; nobody noticed him, nobody bothered him. He watched, listened, ate in the sidewalk café and poolside snack bars and in Two Cedars, Black’s fancy five-star restaurant just off the giant black-and-gold lobby. It didn’t take him long to find out that Annie was upstairs in Nicholas Black’s spacious penthouse apartment. Black was taking care of her himself, with the help of a shy and pretty young nurse named Monica Wheeler.
When he saw the help-wanted flyer for the Two Cedars Restaurant, he knew he’d hit the jackpot. The busy season was in full swing with several conventions ongoing. With all the young kids quitting and heading off to college, Cedar Bend needed all sorts of help. Jesse went after the one that would get access to upstairs and into Annie’s room. Busboy or waiter, either would do the trick. He charmed the human resources manager to high heaven. The guy couldn’t wait to hire him on, didn’t even ask for references. After all, what credentials did a busboy need? Anybody could clean off tables and carry dishes to the kitchen sink. When he told the guy he could cook, too, the H.R. guy told him a promotion was possible if he proved himself in his entry position. Now all he had to do was find an opportunity to take Annie’s meals up to her. Surely, Black would order up some of their meals. Then he’d see what the truth was. Then he’d find a way to take her away with him just like he did the last time. She’d be so grateful. She loved him as much as he loved her. But he had to stay out of Nicholas Black’s sight. Despite his disguise, which was very good, Black might recognize him and so could some of Annie’s other friends. He would have to keep a sharp lookout and stay under their radar.
No one had found the real estate agent’s body, either. Yes, things were certainly meant to be. Step by step, he was getting closer. Then, to his delight, a real stroke of luck went down. Annie’s nurse, the lady named Monica, asked him if he’d like to sit down and have a cup of coffee with her. He’d been extra friendly to her from the get-go, every time he saw her eating in the restaurant. Smiling shyly at her, offering to get her more Coke or tea, giving her the idea that he was interested. She was ripe for the picking, and that’s exactly what he’d do.
“My name’s Monica Wheeler. I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward,” she’d said, lowering her lashes in an endearing and rather bashful manner. She was a pretty girl, tiny, barely five feet tall, with lovely skin and big doelike, innocent brown eyes. She thought he was handsome, and she wasn’t trying to hide her attraction, not in the least. She wanted to be with him. And she was right. Her head would look lovely sitting on a platter like Miss Rosie’s. He needed a friend at home to talk to. Miss Rosie went to bed way too early. But she was an old lady, after all. So he never snapped at her or reprimanded her to make her feel bad. Yes, he’d take Monica’s head home with him, right after she outlived her usefulness.
“No, ma’am, not at all,” he’d answered her. “I’m new here. I just started a few days ago. I’m Jesse Jordan.”
“Well, I’m new here, too. Dr. Black hired me to take care of one of his patients. She’s in a coma.”
Wow, was this ever going to be easy. God was with him. “Maybe we can hang out. I don’t know about you, but I’d like that. We can go exploring together.”
“I’d like that, too.”
“Where’re you from, Monica?”
“St. Louis. I worked at Barnes Jewish Hospital, but they said I could take vacation leave and come help Nick Black take care of Claire. He’s very well thought of there.”
“That was kind of you.”
“Yes. Nick’s paying me generously, of course, and it’s such a shame about his girlfriend.”
“A shame? What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you heard about her accident? It’s all over the news.
She was in a car crash with an escaped mental patient. He was completely crazy and drove the car off a bridge down near Ozark. She would’ve drowned if Nick hadn’t gotten to her in time.”
“How awful. What about the crazy guy? Did they catch him?”
She shrugged. “They didn’t find him, but they don’t think he survived the crash.”
The idiots, but he rather resented the crazy part. He was not crazy. Maybe he wouldn’t take Monica home and make her part of his family, after all. She was being hateful. “How’s that woman now?”
“She’s still in the coma. Poor Nick. I feel terrible for him. He’s at her side night and day. The only time he ever leaves is to clean up or see to his other patients. That’s when I watch over her for him.”
“You mean she’s never even opened up her eyes, or said anything?”
“No, she’s in a very deep sleep. She appears to have terrible dreams and thrashes around sometimes, and we think she’s coming to, but she hasn’t yet. But who wouldn’t have nightmares? It’s tragic what that psycho put her through.”
Jesse went tense. Psycho, was it? He looked at the steak knife lying on the table. All he had to do was snatch it up and stab it into her eye. She deserved it for saying all those bad things about him. She didn’t know him. She didn’t have the right to treat him this way. But there were other people in the restaurant. In time, he’d get her eye, all right. He’d take it out and keep it. But that would come later. Right now, he needed to charm her.
“Hey, how about us going to a movie or something?” he asked. When she hesitated, he said, “Oh, never mind. I bet you don’t date the kitchen help, do you?”
That got to her. “Oh, of course, I would. It’s not that. I just don’t have much time off. Just a few hours through the day. I’ve got a room up in the penthouse. The doctor sits with her all night. He is just worried to death about her. I don’t know what he’ll do if she doesn’t wake up soon.”
It won’t matter, Jesse thought, because Annie was going to be long gone very soon. So far away, in fact, that Black would never, ever find her. It would be easy enough, if she was still unconscious. All he needed to figure out was how to get her out of the penthouse without anybody seeing him. That shouldn’t be much of a problem. He’d done a lot worse. And he was patient, very patient, and very clever. He would get Annie soon, and Monica would be his ticket upstairs.