THE HUSBAND SHE COULDN'T REMEMBER

by Maggie Shayne

  "The hell I do. I only know what I see in front of me, Ben, and what I see is you and Kirsten all alone in the middle of the night in this dark hole, so close you couldn't fit a toothpick between you. If that's how you love me, Ben, then you can keep it. I don't need it."

  She stepped away from him as he stared at her, saying nothing.

  "I'm leaving," Kirsten said softly. "You two don't need me here for this. Penny…" She searched Penny's face for a moment, then shook her head and sighed in exasperation. "Hell, I don't know what to say to you. You're wrong. You're going to throw away the best thing that ever happened to you if you don't wake up."

  She strode past them both and out the door.

  When it banged closed again, they were alone. Penny's fury was spent, and now she only felt exhaustion. Emotional, physical, mental, bone-deep exhaustion. She paced away from Ben to where a soft mat lay on the floor, and then she sat down on it. She didn't want to leave. She wanted him to beg her to stay.

  "What you saw here was nothing, Penny."

  "Oh, hell, don't tell me it was nothing. Nothing doesn't look like that, Ben. I lost my memory, not my eyesight." She sat with her legs bent, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands. "Besides, it doesn't matter, does it? It's over between us. It was over the minute you found out the truth."

  Ben walked across the gym and stood looking down at her. "It was over," he whispered, "the minute you decided to lie to me the way you did."

  She lifted her head very slowly. "It wasn't me. It was a woman I don't even remember, a stranger. That's who lied to you, Ben. And don't forget, will you, that if she hadn't done it, I wouldn't be alive right now."

  He blinked as if those words hit him hard.

  "But like I said, it doesn't matter. You can't love me because I'm not her. Yet you manage to hate me for her crimes."

  Ben sat down slowly. "You are the same woman, Penny. You'll know that when you remember."

  "I might never remember. And to tell you the truth, Ben, I'm not real sure I want to."

  "What?"

  Penny got slowly to her feet, pacing the gym in quick, agitated strides. "She sounds so weak to me. Giving up when she got sick, taking to her bed, running away." She stopped walking and faced Ben. "That's not me. I wouldn't do the things she did. When I came back here, I thought … I thought maybe you could learn to…" Pushing a hand through her hair, she turned in a slow circle. "But you don't even want to get to know the woman I am now, do you? You just want your wimpy, sickly, dependent wife back. Well, I'm sorry, Ben, but she's gone. I can't find her, no matter how I try. And I've just decided to give up the search."

  He looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. "If that's what you think I want, Penny—"

  "It's what you think you want, Ben. And if you can't have it, you'll take Kirsten, because I'm just too poor a substitute for the sainted Penny you remember."

  "No!" He reached for her, but she ducked his grasp and brushed tears from her eyes. "Penny, listen. Kirsten was just trying to explain why she helped you. She was just asking a dear friend to forgive her, that's all it was."

  "Yeah? Well, tell me something, Ben. Did you do it? Did you forgive her?"

  He stood where he was. Slowly he nodded.

  "Then why the hell can't you forgive me?"

  He shook his head slowly. "I don't know."

  Penny stared at him for a long moment before she finally turned away. She walked out, battling tears all the way. And then she got into the car, slipped the key into the ignition and started the engine.

  She should give up. She should go back to that ranch and pack up her dog and her clothes and get as far away from that big, dumb cowboy as she could go.

  Penny closed her eyes and leaned her head against the steering wheel. Against her will, she recalled the joy she and Ben had shared yesterday. The thrill, the warmth, the closeness between them. The way it felt to make love to him.

  She still loved him. She might not remember loving him in the past, but the feeling was still alive and well inside her. Maybe stronger than before. And it hurt that he didn't love her back. That's what she was running away from. The hurt. Not the man.

  "I made him love me once," she whispered to herself. And somehow she knew she was twice the woman now as she had been then. "No, dammit, I'm not running away. I'm going to make him see me for who I am, not who I was. I'm going right back to that ranch and I'm going to win my husband back."

  "No, darling," a deep voice whispered from behind her. Her heart jolted, and she opened her mouth to scream even as she saw the dark shape in her rearview mirror and felt a cold hand close over her mouth. "I'm afraid there's been a change of plans. You're not going back to that ranch after all. You're coming with me."

  She twisted frantically, glanced once back toward the gym and even saw the front door opening. But Barlow reached past her to shift the car into gear, and she felt the sting of a hypodermic piercing her throat. "Drive," he whispered, "unless you want me to depress the plunger … it'll be fast but lethal, I promise."

  Swallowing hard against the pain and the fear welling up in her gut, she drove.

  "Dammit, Penny, wait!"

  Ben slammed out the front door just in time to see her taillights fading. Looked like she'd borrowed Chelsea's car. Damn. He'd messed things up, but she hit him so hard and so fast and on so many levels he could barely keep up. He didn't know whether to try to explain about Kirsten, or to try to tell her how wrong she was about her assumptions. She always had jumped to conclusions quicker than a cricket on a hot griddle. But she was wrong. She was flat-out dead wrong.

  She wasn't different from the Penny he'd adored all his life. That same spunk, that same temper, that same fire in her eyes had always been there, along with an insatiable curiosity and a suspicious nature—those things had been a part of her all along. They'd only vanished when she'd been diagnosed with HWS. And dammit, he'd missed them! If Penny thought he preferred the sick and beaten woman she'd become over the true hellfire-and-brimstone woman who'd somehow been born again, she couldn't be more wrong.

  He wanted her. The woman she was now—the girl she'd been before the illness. Memory or no memory. But he also wanted the pure and perfect love he'd thought they'd had. The love he'd believed in. And that love had been an illusion. It must have been. If it had been real, she'd have never been able to lie to him the way she had.

  Or maybe he was being a pigheaded fool.

  She still cared. And as he stood there watching Chelsea's car disappear into the night, he thought maybe she loved him, too. Because she'd seemed awfully upset to find him with Kirsten—far more upset than a woman who didn't care about him should be.

  All right, he had to tell her. Talk to her. Tonight. She wasn't more than a minute ahead of him, and he'd catch up easily. He turned and ran to his pickup, and then he stopped and stood there cussing.

  One of the front tires was utterly flat.

  "Pull over, right here," Dr. Barlow instructed, and since the needle's point was still embedded in her neck, she did as he said.

  Barlow nodded. "Good girl." Then he depressed the plunger. Penny screamed in stark horror as she felt the cool liquid spreading through her, chilling her neck and creeping lower. A wave of weakness swamped her, and when Barlow pulled the needle out she couldn't even lift a hand to rub the sting away.

  He got out of the car, then opened her door and hauled her out, as well, pulling her up and over his shoulder. "Are you frightened, Penny? Do you think you're dying now?"

  "P—please," she whispered. There were crickets chirping madly all around, and she was dizzy. He walked through deep grasses at the roadside, then knelt and lowered her into them. The tall stalks surrounded her and took on forestlike proportions looming overhead.

  "You don't remember what it felt like to know you were dying, do you, Penny? Or maybe you do now. It's terrifying, isn't it?"

  Darkness was creeping in on all sides. She had tunnel vision now. Only the tips o
f the tall grasses and the stars dotting the midnight blue sky directly above her were visible, until he leaned over, blotting out the beauty.

  "This is what you were living with, Penny, when I took you in. This kind of fear. But I took that away from you. I cured you, Penny. I gave you back your life. No one else could have done that. You owe me, Penny. Don't you? Don't you?" He gripped her shoulders and shook them.

  "Y-yes!"

  "But you repay me by running away. Telling my secrets and forcing me to close the clinic and go into hiding. Like a criminal. You deserve to die, you know you do."

  "No, please…"

  He let go of her shoulders, and she fell backward, her body cushioned again by the deep grasses. "Don't worry. I lied. It was only a tranquilizer. You're not going to die, Penny. But you are going to come away with me. I'm starting a new clinic. And you, Penny, are going to be the center of my studies. The core of my research."

  Fear gripped her, but even then her eyes kept falling closed. His words made them pop open again. "I … but…"

  "You still don't understand, do you?" he asked her. "Penny, you're the only one. The only one ever to recover from HWS. I've found the cure, but the drug is only part of it. The rest is … hidden. Encoded, somewhere inside you." He smiled down at her, his face blurry and swimming before her eyes. "I'll find it, though. I'll find it, even if I have to take you apart to do it."

  Her stomach turned, and she tried again to scream, but no sound emerged.

  Dr. Barlow smiled and tipped his head skyward. "Just as I promised you I would, Mother. Just as I promised." Then he looked at Penny again. "That's it, you rest now. I'll come back for you as soon as I've returned the car you borrowed. Wouldn't want those nice Brands to worry, now, would we?"

  He moved out of her range of vision, and she heard the grasses brushing his legs as he traipsed back to the car, then heard the engine as he drove away. They'd see him. Someone would see him when he left the car there. And they'd know. They'd come for her. And Ben, Ben must be on his way. He must have come after her … unless … unless he truly didn't care…

  No. He did care. She knew he did. He was coming. But maybe not fast enough. She'd have to help, or he'd never be able to find her again. She'd leave something … a sign…

  She couldn't stay awake much longer. She clutched at the first thing she thought of—the wristwatch Chelsea had given her as a gift at the party. It was a tremendous effort to tug it off, but she managed it, and then dropped it into the grass where she lay, and prayed Ben would find it there.

  Ben pulled into the driveway a half hour later, after changing the tire and driving back from town. He parked beside Chelsea's little car, relieved to see it there. At least he knew Penny had got home okay. He needed to talk to her. Didn't know what he was going to say exactly, but he knew they had to talk.

  He sighed heavily and walked up the porch steps and through the screen door. The house was quiet, dark. Had that peaceful feel it only got when everyone inside was sound asleep, an event that didn't happen very often. Someone was usually awake. But it didn't feel as if anyone was up right now.

  Blue lay on the floor next to the fireplace, and Olive was laid out beside him with her legs sticking straight out behind her like frog's legs. Both were sound asleep. That Stubby looked like a lumpy rug, stretched out as she was. Ben grinned and thought about showing Penny, but his smile froze and died slow. They wouldn't be sharing smiles or laughter … not until they got things settled between them.

  Turning, Ben headed up the stairs to talk to her. But the sound of that screen door creaking stopped him, and he turned to see Garrett just coming inside.

  Ben nodded hello and continued up another step.

  "Hold up a minute, Ben." Garrett came farther into the room, pausing at the archway to the dining room and inclining his head when Ben turned to face him again. "We need to talk. In the kitchen."

  "About what?" Ben asked. He was more eager to see Penny right now than to talk to his brother. He didn't like the idea of her falling asleep with this misguided idea that things could end between them just because she said it was over and he'd been stupid enough and angry enough and wounded enough to agree with her. It would never be over between them. She was as much a part of him as his own heart, and he was just that much a part of her. Or he had been once. And he would be again, dammit.

  Garrett sent Ben an impatient look, swept his hat off his head and turned to march into the kitchen. He had his hat in one hand and a file folder in the other. Ben figured there was no sense arguing. It must be important, or Garrett wouldn't have been up and away from home so late anyway. It took major events to get him to work late these days. Had ever since he'd married Chelsea, in fact.

  Ben came back down the stairs and followed his brother through the dining room and into the kitchen. He didn't pull out a chair, though. Instead he leaned back against the counter and crossed one boot over the other. Garrett slapped the folder onto the kitchen table. Then he hung his hat on the back of a chair and sat down. "You're gonna want to see this."

  Ben stayed where he was. "What is it?"

  "Information on Penny's Dr. Barlow. Turns out he isn't a doctor at all. At least, not anymore."

  Suddenly interested, Ben straightened. "What do you mean, not anymore?"

  "His license was taken away five years ago."

  "What?" Ben lunged forward, yanking the file across the table and flipping it open to skim the contents. "Where does it say that? Garrett, where did you get all this?"

  Garrett gently pulled the folder back and closed it. "Sit down, Ben. No sense you trying to translate it from legalese to English—I've already been over everything in there. Let me give you the gist of it in digest form, okay?"

  Ben pulled out a chair and sat down. "I'm listening."

  Garrett nodded. "Okay. To begin with, Gregory Barlow's real name is Barton, and he is a smart man. Probably a genius. The only child of an unwed mother, he sailed through high school, graduating three years early, and started college at sixteen. He was at the top of his class in med school, despite that he was also the youngest student there. About that time his mother was diagnosed with HWS—same disease Penny had."

  Ben leaned forward in the chair. "And?"

  Garrett shrugged. "The reports don't say what was going on in Barlow's head, but it's a pretty easy guess. He was devastated. She was all he had, so they must have been close. He turned to full-time HWS research, and I don't think it would be too far-fetched to assume he was hoping to find a cure before it was too late for his mother."

  "But he didn't, did he, Garrett?"

  Garrett shook his head sadly. He picked up the folder, tapping its edge on the table. "I've got documentation of hundred-plus-hour work weeks this guy put in nonstop for over two years. And the worse his mother got, the harder he worked. But the funding for the research got pulled, and the work was stopped. Officially, at least. It looks like Barlow was still working on his own." Lowering the folder, flipping it open, Garrett went on. "In 1984 he petitioned the government for permission to begin clinical trials with some new drug cocktail he'd developed, but permission was denied. The British government felt there was not enough data to begin using it on human subjects. Barlow's mother died in 1985, less than a year later."

  Ben lowered his head. "You sound like you almost feel sorry for the guy."

  "We both know what it's like to lose a mother, Ben."

  "Yeah, and thanks to Barlow, I know what it's like to lose a wife, as well." Ben pushed away from the table and paced to the window, staring outside. "I can probably guess the rest."

  "You probably can," Garrett said. "Barlow went ahead with the clinical trial anyway, but he did it undercover. Set up a hospice for HWS victims. People went there thinking they'd get the best of care up to the end. But instead of just caring for them, Barlow was experimenting on them. Injecting them with this new drug of his. The government caught on and shut him down, but he vanished. Turned up again running another clini
c under another name, and when they shut that one down he disappeared again."

  Ben shook his head slowly. "He's unbalanced, isn't he?"

  "That's the theory. And, Ben—" Garrett lowered his head "—Penny was right about Michele Kudrow."

  "The nurse?" Ben asked.

  Garrett nodded. "Autopsy showed she was drugged. So much of it in her bloodstream, she couldn't possibly have been conscious when she allegedly slit her wrists."

  Ben felt the blood drain from his face. They'd been taking all of Penny's theories so lightly, just the way they always had. But this time… "Jesus."

  "I know. But she's safe here, Ben. No one's going to get to her here."

  "We gotta get this guy, Garrett."

  "We will. Meanwhile I don't want you taking your eyes off your wife. Got it?"

  "You can bet on it."

  Garrett walked Ben into the living room, and Ben turned to head toward the stairs, glancing fondly at that comical dog again as he passed her. Then he paused, and his blood ran cold. He lifted his gaze. "Garrett, why is Olive sleeping down here?"

  Garrett shrugged. Then he frowned.

  "Olive sleeps with Penny. Every time Penny lays down in bed, that dog…" Ben said.

  "Damn."

  Ben took the steps two at a time, and burst into his bedroom wide-eyed. But it took only a glimpse to know that Penny wasn't there, and the bed was still made. No one had been in it. He ran to the bathroom, but it was empty, as well.

  Garrett came up behind him. "She's not in Jessi's room, either." Then he went back into the hall to pound on Adam's door, and then Elliot's.

  "I don't get it," Ben muttered as his brothers came awake, staggering into the hall. "The car is here. She must have come back."

  "What's going on?" Elliot demanded.

  "Something's happened to Penny, hasn't it?" Adam swore when Ben nodded at him, then ducked into his room to throw on some clothes.

  "Go check the car out, Ben. We'll meet you out front," Garrett said as they trotted down the stairs together. Then he fumbled in his pocket for his key chain, and crouched in front of the locked gun cabinet in the living room.