by Linda Ladd
“Good. I’m just concerned about you, Claire. You’ve been in a coma. You need to take it easy. Get back into things slowly. You don’t think working a case like this will be too much for you?”
“No, definitely not. Truthfully, Black? It makes me feel alive again and like I’ve got a purpose, you know, a reason to get up in the morning. You told me yourself that was important.”
“It is important. Any leads yet?”
“Not many. We’ve got no identifying credentials. We’re hoping for fingerprints.”
“I take it that you found the body near the Falcon.”
“Yes. We were hoping your crew would’ve seen or heard something.”
“Geoff says he heard a boat one night, but nothing else. I do remember getting his message about that.”
“We’re bound to find something soon.”
“You always do.”
Claire liked that. Blatant encouragement, just what she needed. It was turning out that she liked a lot about Black, too. A good indicator, under the freaky circumstances they found themselves in. She certainly didn’t want to dislike her own true love. That just wouldn’t get it done, now would it?
“So you’re coming back here right now?”
“Bud’s taking me to my house so I can nose around. Maybe it’ll help me remember some more stuff.”
“Does that mean you’ve remembered something today?”
“Yes, quite a few things, but not the whole picture yet.”
“It’s going to come to you, Claire. Why don’t I meet you at your place in an hour or so? I’ll bring dinner from Two Cedars.”
Claire looked at the giant pendulum clock positioned over one of the black leather couches. It looked like a French antique. So how did she know that? she wondered, but couldn’t answer her own question. “Make that two hours, and it’s a date.”
“Okay.” A beat of silence, then he said, “I miss you.”
Claire hesitated, but the truth was that she had thought of him a lot throughout the day, as exciting as getting back to work had been. She glanced at Bud, but he was still flirting with Sadie while she wiped down the spotless and shiny marble bar. “I miss you, too.”
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
His pleased tone made her smile, but she sobered when she saw Bud looking at her with a knowing grin. “Okay, gotta go, Black. See you later.”
Bud swiveled back and forth on the bar stool. “Looks like you’re startin’ to remember old Nick better all the time, huh, Claire?”
“Yeah, maybe,” she said. But what she wanted was for everything to come back crystal clear and detailed. Maybe she wouldn’t ever love him again. Or maybe they’d just fall in love again, just like before, and all would be well. Lightning could strike twice in the same place, and all that rot. Or not, her good sense added. And therein lay the problem, a very big problem indeed.
Chapter Ten
The closer they got to Harve Lester’s house, the more excited Claire became. The road back home was not familiar, of course, but Bud was still pointing out this and that, and telling her what she needed to know. Her mind was whirling hard, trying to sledgehammer down that damnable dam and let her past roar forth. Turning off the highway onto a narrow gravel road, Bud stopped at a security gate blocking the entrance, slid down his window, and punched in some numbers.
“Do you remember Harve’s gate code, Claire?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll write it down for you, or Harve can. He put this gate up because a bunch of vulture reporters were out here doggin’ you and Black a few years back.”
“Tell me about that case.”
“That’s the one where we found the soap actress under the water out at that bungalow at Cedar Bend. Down that road you said you remembered.” He turned his head and looked at her. “That trigger anything?”
“I recall the house, a few other things, nothing that ties together. Did we solve it?”
“Oh, yeah. We solve all our cases.” His broad grin was back. “We don’t know any other way.”
“How’d it go down?”
“Black told me that it’s better for you to remember the bad stuff on your own.”
Oh, great, more bad stuff to remember. It seemed that’s all there was in her past. Sure didn’t make her feel all jolly and confident and on top of the world. Dread and unease suddenly seemed to be the new flavor of the day. “Oh, yeah, Bud, he told me. My mind’s protecting me, let it do its thing, and all that shrink verbiage.”
“Well, he knows his stuff.” Bud waited for the barrier to lift and allow them passage. “It’s beginning to come back anyway, right? You know Harve, right? Maybe talking to him will help.”
“Yes. We were partners in Los Angeles. It’ll be great to see him again. You know, to sit down with somebody I actually know.”
Bud drove up to a neat little property about a quarter of a mile down the road that ran along the edge of the lake. The house sat lower than the road, the back very close to the water. There was a small, front, screened porch with an American flag flapping in the wind beside the screen door. Bud shoved the gearshift into park and turned in his seat and looked at her. She sensed reluctance on his part. Oh, God, what now?
“Claire, you remember what happened to Harve?”
Uh-oh. “What d’you mean?”
More hesitation. He did not want to tell her this, whatever it was. “He’s paralyzed from the waist down now. Got a bullet in the line of duty. He’s in a wheelchair. But he gets along just fine, does just about anything he wants to.”
“Oh, my God, Bud, no, I don’t remember any of that.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t want you to walk in there blind.”
“No, no, you did the right thing,” she said quickly, but inside, her heart ached and she couldn’t really believe her strong, vital mentor at LAPD had been felled by a bullet.
For a moment, she and Bud coordinated their investigative plans for the next day, and then Harve came out on his porch in a motorized wheelchair and called out a hello to her. Claire was so glad to see him that she bid Bud a quick good-bye and ran across the yard to her old friend. Leaning down, she gave the guy a big hug and didn’t want to let him go.
“Bud just told me, Harve, about you getting hit. I’m so sorry.”
“No dice on remembering that, either, huh?”
Claire shook her head. Harve looked good, still strong and muscular from the regimen of weight lifting he used to do and apparently still did. Hair was a little more steel gray, maybe, but those sharp, see-through-the-bull blue eyes were the same. He was the best detective she’d ever met, and a partner who always had her back, always—on the job and in private life. He was in his late fifties now, but nobody had ever looked so good to her. “Oh, God, Harve, I’m so glad to see you. The last few days have been pretty damn awful.”
“Well, c’mon in. Joe brought me an apple pie yesterday, and I was gonna take it over to Cedar Bend for you and Nick when I visited. It’s still sitting on the kitchen table, just waiting for me to dip out the ice cream.”
Claire realized in that moment how good it felt to actually recognize somebody and know everything about them, or almost everything. How often had the two of them sat down at a diner or an all-night restaurant together and had a piece of pie and a cup of coffee? More times than she could count. Following him inside the house, she looked around for anything else familiar but nothing clicked. “Let’s sit and talk in the kitchen, Claire. It’s so good to see you back here, whole and in one piece. You were in really bad shape last time I saw you. Have to be honest: You had me worried this time.”
Claire sat down at the table, her heart wrenching at the sight of Harve in the wheelchair, but he got around fine and seemed to have adapted extremely well. Harve Lester wasn’t the kind to complain about anything, especially his own challenges. She watched him fetch some plates and forks from a low cabinet and bring them back to the table.
“If you�
�ll get the ice cream out of the freezer, I’ll cut the pie.”
“You got it.”
Harve cut them both absolutely huge pieces. She pried open the ice cream carton and scooped out equally generous portions of ice cream. She’d lost weight. Now was the time to put some meat back on her bones. Vanilla ice cream ought to do the trick.
“So you don’t remember much of anything, huh?” he asked Claire, handing her a fork.
“I remember you and some of our work in Los Angeles, but that’s just about it.”
Harve took a big bite and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “What about Nick and Bud?”
“Apparently, my memory took a hike on them. But thank God, not you. You came before the move here, I guess.” She took her first bite, and her stomach nearly purred with true love. “This’s really good. So who’s Joe?”
“Joe says it’s his mom’s recipe. You don’t remember him, either?”
“No, and I haven’t met him again yet. I’m slowly getting to meet everybody else. I’m beginning to recall bits and pieces. A lot came back today at work.”
“Nick told me this might happen. He also said that it wouldn’t last long.”
“Well, that’s the good news. If you believe it.”
“Too bad you don’t know Black.”
“Well, what can I say? The guy treats me like a queen. I’m attracted to him, but I don’t know him well enough to feel anything more than that.”
“You two are good together.” He pointed with his fork toward his dock. “He gave me that boat sitting down there. Free of charge. It’s handicapped equipped so I can go fishing. I’ve spent many an hour out on the lake in it.”
Peering out the kitchen windows, Claire realized that he was talking about a big, sleek Cobalt 360 cruiser, very similar to other boats she’d seen at Cedar Bend.
“You’re gonna be all right, Claire. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Inhaling deeply, she said, “Why’d I change my name, Harve? It used to be Annie, didn’t it? Nobody’s telling me enough. There are so many blanks in the story I’ve been told.”
For the first time, Harve didn’t seem to want to look at her. She waited, wishing someone would just tell her everything that she’d been through, get it all over with and let her deal with it, no matter how awful it was.
Harve didn’t speak as he finished his pie and leaned back in his wheelchair. “Nick will tell you if you don’t remember soon.” Serious now, he took hold of her hand. “You’ve gone through some tough times down here in Missouri. I think he’s afraid it’s too much for you to absorb all at once.”
“It’s gonna have to happen.”
Harve’s eyes were kind, and she could read the familiar understanding inside them. “Hell, Claire, maybe he’ll change his mind. Ask him. Demand it. I wouldn’t like being kept in the dark like this, either.”
“I think I will. Tonight. He’s supposed to meet me down at my house, which will be interesting, too. Surely my own place will seem familiar.”
Feeling more and more helpless to figure things out on her own, she felt locked up inside her own personal dark closet while all her friends held keys but refused to let her out. She was beginning to feel sorry for herself, which was a feeling she wasn’t used to and did not like.
At that moment, Claire decided to quit worrying about it, quit thinking about it, and get on with her new life. At least she had a life, after a very serious car wreck. “I remember some things about us, about L.A., but there’s a lot missing. Tell me a little bit, and I’ll stop boring you with my problems.”
“You were young and eager and gung-ho when you came out of the academy. Let’s see, you were, are, a great cop. You were decorated for valor at LAPD multiple times. You love police work. The best detective I’ve ever known, and I’ve seen plenty, young and old.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you. But thanks, Harve.” Claire tried to digest things. “I remember the work, the procedures. I remember all that, but little about my personal stuff. You know, relationships, emotions.”
“Maybe later today, maybe tomorrow. You’re back at work. Concentrate on that and let things be.”
“I guess I’m just frustrated.”
“Well, give yourself a break. You’ve been through a helluva lot the last few years.”
“You’re probably gonna be seeing a lot of me, hear a lot of my angst.”
“I’ll be right here if you ever need a thing, day or night.”
Claire nodded, squeezed her old friend’s hand, and felt much better. Apparently, she had lots of friends to turn to. She needed to be glad about that. “Bud said I lived just down the road from here. I’m going to walk it, get some fresh air and exercise. Black’s meeting me there.”
“About another quarter of a mile down from here. Nice, snug, little A-frame with a dock like mine out front. I signed it over to you for Christmas.”
That surprised Claire. “That’s one fabulous Christmas present.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“I can’t wait to get down there. If anyplace rings a bell, it’s got to be there.”
“It’s full of your stuff. Your Explorer’s parked in the garage.”
“I don’t know if I’ll stay out here. Black doesn’t want me to.” Claire glanced at her watch. “He’s probably there now. Pacing the floor.”
“Ah, he’s not going anywhere without you, believe me.”
“I guess I owe him. He saved my life, and all.” They shared a smile. “I’ll come back soon, Harve, okay?”
“You’re welcome to stay here for a while, if you need a safe place to crash. I’ve got two empty guest rooms, and I like your company.”
Claire nodded, wondering if that wasn’t such a bad idea. “We got a new case today. A homicide.”
Harve perked up. “Want to tell me about it?”
“I suspect I’ve confided in you before.”
He nodded. “I help you whenever I can. I’m pretty good on that computer in there.”
“We found a dead woman out on a duck blind near Nicholas Black’s yacht. Bud says the two of you have hunted out of it.”
“Yeah, I’ve fished out there, too.”
“Whose blind is it?”
“Mine. Dad built it years ago when I was a little kid. Guess I was around ten. I keep it in good shape.”
“Do you let anybody else use it?”
“Most of my friends. Was the body hidden inside?”
“No. She was outside, propped against the wall.”
“How’d she die?”
“Not sure yet. The perpetrator bludgeoned her with some kind of weapon. It was overkill, to be sure.”
“You’ll get him.”
“I hope so. This guy’s got a screw loose.”
A worried expression flitted across Harve’s face, and Claire picked up on it. “Yeah, I hear I’ve met crazies before, more than once.”
“You’re a homicide detective. Goes with the territory.”
“Good point.” Nodding, she sighed again, and stood up. She was doing a lot of sighing lately. “Guess I better get going. Black’s going to think the worst. He’s more worked up about all this than I am.”
“Come back soon, and I’ll fry up some crappie for us. You do remember my famous fried fish dinners, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah, and I’m getting hungry again, just thinking about it.”
Harve reached out his arms for a hug, and she leaned down and gave him a long and heartfelt one. If nothing else, she’d always have Harve, and that made her feel better than she had in quite a while.
Outside in the fresh air, Claire started down the road that led to her very own piece of the world. It was still hot out, but the road was partially overhung with oak trees and their leafy boughs, making the walk fairly shady. And it was a pretty place, too, with the lake lapping against the narrow rocky beach. The water was serene and smooth and glassy and green. She was wearier than she wanted to admit, for fear
of getting her half day jerked out from under her, and the ire of the handsome doctor awaiting her. She needed to get out more, work up to a jog, get her tight muscles lean and agile again. No pain, no gain, as they say.
But she was tired and so glad to see the house when she rounded the next curve of the cove. A strange sense of peace rolled down through her. Not exactly recognition but a good feeling, a good vibe. She hadn’t had much of that of late, so she welcomed it wholeheartedly.
The place appeared deserted, until she glimpsed another big Cobalt 360 moored alongside the small dock. The house looked as if it had been added on to recently, sort of modernized, it looked like. Then she heard a shrill and happy little yap.
“Hey, Claire! Down here!”
Then Claire saw him. Black was out in the water, about twenty yards off the end of the dock. A dog’s head was bobbing around, too, closer in. She broke into a smile. A big strapping man and his sissy, but adorable, little dog relaxing together after a long day at work. At least, the good doc wasn’t going to get on her back for being late. Which she did appreciate. Strolling down the small incline from the road, she walked out onto the dock. “You’re making yourself at home, I see.”
“The water’s great,” he called out, doing a breaststroke in closer. “C’mon in.”
“No can do. I don’t happen to have a swimsuit on me.” But she was big-time tempted. It was still at least ninety and the water looked cool and inviting. So did the doctor.
“Your swimsuit’s in the boat. Top drawer of the bedroom dresser. Go get it on. It’ll be good for you to do some swimming. Relax your muscles. Cool you off.”
“So I know how to swim? Just checking.”
He laughed at her joke. She hadn’t been making many of late. He seemed rather pleased. “Yes, you do. You’ve made it over to the far shore and back plenty of times.”
Claire glanced at the other side of the cove. “Then I am pretty good, aren’t I?” Actually, she knew she could swim. She had visited the hotel pool since she woke up. She was just teasing with him a little. After all, they were lovers, and everybody on the lake knew it but her.