by J. KRAMER
“It feels so good lying here in your arms,” said Becky. “I want to stay here all day.”
“There’s always tonight,” Charles murmured and kissed her. “Come, sweetie, we need to feed that baby of yours.”
Becky had forgotten about the baby for the moment. Now, she put her hand on her belly. “It’s hard to imagine I’m carrying a child. I don’t think I want an abortion. The baby can’t help who its father is.”
“I’m glad you’ve made at least that decision,” Charles said and slowly, almost reluctantly released her and got up off the bed. “I’d better make that call to my lawyer and get your divorce moving.”
“I’ll go and get dressed,” said Becky. She jumped off the bed and stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips. “You’re a good man, Charles.”
After she got dressed she suddenly realized that many of the clothes Charles had bought her would soon not fit anymore. As she walked down the stairs she wondered what she'd look like a couple of months from now.
She could hear Charles’ voice as she passed his study. He’d made real his promise to call the lawyer.
Maria had set the table. When she heard Becky come into the dining room, hatred shot from her black eyes. Becky shook her head and sent the woman a smile anyway.
“Becky!” Charles called.
Becky hurried to the study. “Yes?”
“What is your maiden name?”
“Ferguson. Rebecca Ferguson. At least, that’s what Gavin told me. He also told me I lived in San Francisco for some time and before that I lived in Australia.”
Becky returned to the dining room and sat down. Maria had put a steaming bowl of soup and freshly baked buns on the table. The aroma entered Becky’s nostrils causing her stomach to growl. “That smells delicious, Maria.”
Maria snorted and walked away.
Charles soon joined her and smiled. “McPhearson will get things rolling immediately. He said if he found out anything he’d get in touch with us right away.”
“I hope he can at least find out when I married Gavin,” said Becky while dishing up the stew. “It might be hard though. Gavin said we got married in Vegas. We eloped.”
“I find that hard to believe. Gavin rarely goes inland when he’s out on the boat. McPhearson has hired a good private investigator, Bob MacDonald, so let’s see what he can come up with. After lunch I’ll phone McPhearson with that bit of information you just gave me. It may make the search easier.”
Late that afternoon, the lawyer called. Becky waited anxiously while Charles was on the phone. She couldn’t tell anything by Charles’ answers. Most of the conversation seemed to be coming from the lawyer. Finally Charles was off the phone.
Charles’ face was grim as he sat in the chair opposite her. “Well, it seems there’s no record of your marriage anywhere in Vegas and the PI unearthed your birthplace. You were born in California.”
“Really? That means I’m a US citizen. How did I get the Australian accent then?”
“Maybe you lived there for a long time. I told you there was something fishy about this whole business. I doubt if Gavin and you were ever married. Gavin isn’t the marrying type.”
“So do you think he used my amnesia then to fool me into thinking so?”
“Yes. I can’t put all the pieces of the puzzle together yet, but give it time. We’ll find out all about you eventually. Oh, McPhearson also said your parents’ names are John and Mary Ferguson. There is no record of their deaths. Your father was a prominent businessman right here in California. The PI is researching your father’s history by looking up old newspapers. He’s very efficient so we’ll soon know more.”
Becky digested this information. “So I do have parents. John and Mary Ferguson. I wonder if they’re still alive, or if Gavin lied to me about their deaths, too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
"Becky is alive?”
John Ferguson shouted so hard that Lucien had to hold the phone away from his ear. “Yes, but that’s all I can tell you. I know who kidnapped her. His name is Gavin Roarke and he lives in Sonoma County. The bastard also has my paintings.”
“How did you find out? Is Becky with you now?”
“No, we couldn’t find her anywhere in the house. Melinda, the private investigator I hired, is there today trying to find out more.”
“Maybe he’s got her locked up somewhere in the house.”
“No. The servants said they’d seen her earlier in the evening and then she disappeared.”
“Surely he hasn’t sold her into slavery or something?”
“For fuck sake, John. Don’t come up with stuff like that. I already fear enough for her.”
“I’m coming to San Francisco.”
“And do what? I’ll let you know as soon as we have another lead.”
“I’ll call the FBI. Maybe they can find out more. The guy should be behind bars anyway.”
“Yes, but will he talk? The only proof I have is his possession of the paintings and I don’t think he’ll have them in his house anymore after what I did to him yesterday. It’d be too risky for him. Wait a minute, Melinda is back. I’ll call you right back.”
“I’ll stay on the line.”
“It could take a few minutes.”
“I don’t give a damn. It’s not as if I can’t afford it.”
Lucien lay the phone down and ran to open the door for Melinda. “Did you find out anything?” he asked anxiously.
“Yes. Seems your Becky has fled. She’s gone.”
“Shit. How will she get anywhere without help from someone? She’s got no money, no papers or identification.”
“She must have had help. Maybe she met someone at the party.”
“Then get a guest list.”
“I’m one step ahead of you. I’m going back to the office to call all these people. I recognize some of the names. They’ve got records,” she said as she opened the door to leave.
“That makes me feel really good.”
“That’s the best I could do, Lucien. Dinner tonight?”
“Pardon? Oh, dinner? No, I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood.” Now that he knew Becky was alive and somewhere in the US, he needed to concentrate on finding her. “Thanks anyway.” He didn’t notice the flash of anger in Melinda’s eyes as she pivoted on her heels and headed for the elevator.
Lucien hurried back to the phone. “John?”
“Yes, what did your PI find out?”
“Becky has disappeared from the bastard’s house. She’s fled. Melinda thinks she had help from someone. She’s going to call all the people on the guest list.”
“Good. Keep me updated. I’m going to call the FBI now.”
“Okay, call me if they discover anything.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
She’d been with Charles for a month now and felt at peace. Except for her missing past, Becky was happy. Charles doted on her. Last week she’d moved her belongings into his bedroom and today she'd tell him she would marry him. She’d given Maria the day and evening off and ordered in Chinese food. Charles loved Chinese. The lawyer had ordered a new birth certificate for her and unearthed her social insurance number. At least, now she had status. As a last touch to the dining room table, she placed the roses she’d picked from the garden in its center and stood back.
“Perfect,” she smiled. “The scene is set. Now to wear something really nice.”
She hurried up the stairs to the master bedroom and rummaged through the closet. Charles continually brought her gifts, lovely long dresses, jewelry, and all she ever wore were her tights or jeans. Her jeans felt too snug now because of her thickening waist.
Pulling out a long white dress that she hadn’t worn yet, she examined it. Grecian style was best right now. Her breasts had become somewhat larger, too. After she put the dress on, Becky examined her image in the mirror. “Perfect. Charles will be so happy,” she murmured.
She sat on the small stool in front of the dressing table an
d rifled through the jewelry box Charles had bought her and the trinkets he constantly surprised her with. A gold chain with a single diamond was her choice. It had matching pendant earrings.
The front door closed. “He’s early,” she said and left the room and hurried down the stairs.
“Don’t walk those stairs too fast, honey. You’ll trip and fall.”
“Hello to you, too,” Becky smiled. “You’re home early.”
“The meeting didn’t take long. Mm, something smells good.”
Becky smiled and took him by the hand. “I gave Maria the day and evening off. I wanted to be alone with you this evening, Charles.” She pulled him into the dining room. “I’m afraid I can’t claim the credit for the meal. I ordered in Chinese. I know how much you like it.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetie.” He looked at the lit candles, the romantic setting.
“Why don’t you take your jacket off? Or would you like a cocktail before dinner?”
“I’m starved. We’ll eat first. What do you have planned for desert?”
“Oh, you wait and see,” she murmured in a sexy voice.
“That sounds enticing.”
Becky sat opposite him and waited for him to pour orange juice into both their glasses. He raised his glass. “Cheers, Becky.”
“To the future, Charles. Our future,” she said in a meaningful tone.
He sipped the juice and looked at her, his eyes filled with questions.
“Charles, I’ve decided to accept your proposal. I’d like to marry you.”
He jumped up sending the chair crashing to the floor. “Becky, are you sure?”
“Yes, of course.”
He rushed to join her and knelt on the floor next to her, placing his head on her lap. “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world. When would you like to get married?”
“Soon. Tonight if you like.”
He looked up at her smiling face. “I’ll get the license first thing in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want a big wedding?”
“No. We can do that later, after the baby is born. I have one request.”
“Anything for you, my love. Name it and it’s yours.”
“The only thing I have that belongs to me is my name. I’d like to keep my own name.”
“So it shall be.” Charles looked up into her eyes and smiled. “Becky, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world and I’ll raise your son as my own.”
“What if it’s a girl?” she asked while stroking his hair.
“She’ll look like her mother and she’ll melt my heart,” he said softly. “Come my love, dinner can wait.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Lucien paced the floor. “Three months and we’ve come up with nothing! Where could she be?” he shouted.
Melinda lit a cigarette. Deep inside her purse was a newspaper clipping. She’d had it for two months now but had hoped that Lucien’s obsession to find Becky would simmer down and he’d focus his attention on her again. But he hadn’t. Should she give up hope that he would ever be hers? His love for Becky was so great. Now that he knew Becky was alive and somewhere in the States, he’d leave no stone unturned to find her. But, she had found out something. The girl was married. Surely he’d respect that? If he knew Becky had married another man, would he give up? Perhaps it was time to tell him, to show him the clipping.
“Lucien, you haven’t given me a chance to talk. Why don’t you shut up for two seconds and let me get two words in.”
“Why did you come here? To gloat? The FBI hasn’t come up with anything. They can’t even arrest that bastard. He claims he bought the paintings, paid me cash, and I can’t prove a thing. And Becky went with him of her own accord? I find that hard to believe. Where did the blood come from?”
“Lucien! Shut up!” Melinda shouted now tired of his tirade. “Juanita, the maid who worked on the yacht, said Becky came aboard the yacht willingly. The FBI questioned the servants and they all claim Becky left the house because she was tired of Gavin.”
“He probably paid them well to say that.”
“Maybe your gal isn’t what she seemed to be.”
“Don’t you start, too,” Lucien hissed. “I’ll find her. I’ll hire an army of detectives and someone will find her trail. She can’t just disappear into thin air.”
“No, she can’t. Lucien, I have something to show you. Someone sent it to me this morning. One of my contacts,” she lied, knowing and fearing his wrath if he found out she’d had this information for two months.
“What is it?”
Digging into her purse she pulled out the clipping and handed it to him. She watched his face grow very pale under his tan. His eyes darkened until they were near black. He stumbled back until he fell into a chair then covered his face with both hands, the clipping fluttering to the floor. “My God. How could she do this?” Dry sobs came from deep within. His body shook.
Melinda jumped up and ran to him. She gathered him into her arms and cradled his head against her bosom. Maybe giving him the clipping with the marriage announcement hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Now, she could comfort him. Lucien would turn to her now and forget about Becky.
“Go lie down, Lucien and I’ll mix you a drink,” she said softly.
Obediently, like a child, he walked into the bedroom and fell onto the bed. A heartrending scream sounded throughout the rooms causing Melinda’s blood to curdle. Hurriedly she poured him a stiff whisky and added only a little water. She hurried into the bedroom.
“Here, Lucien, drink this. It’ll calm you,” she said and held the glass to his lips.
He almost tore it from her fingers and gulped down the golden liquid. “How could she, Melinda? Has she forgotten about our love?” he asked in a broken voice.
Melinda took off her jacket and climbed onto the bed beside him. She took him in her arms and rocked him like a baby. Slowly his sobs subsided. When she gazed into his eyes, they were black and filled with pain. “I’m here for you, baby. Melinda will take care of you,” she whispered against his lips.
His lips crashed down on hers, roughly, savagely. Buttons flew off her blouse as he tore at the flimsy material. He pulled down the cups of her bra, his face swooping down, his teeth biting her nipples hard.
Melinda felt his cock poke into her belly, his hands groping beneath the skirt. She wore no panties. Within seconds he’d entered her. His hands kneaded her breasts so roughly that she screamed at the pain, but it was a pain she wanted, she relished, because he was with her and not with Becky. His cock slammed into her, hurting her, but she screamed for more. Then he came, violently, gasping as if he were drawing his last breath. Lucien collapsed in her arms. Great sobs wracked his body now and she felt his hot tears on her chest.
“It’s okay, my love,” she whispered. “Melinda will be here for you. Always.”
Suddenly he jumped off the bed and gazed down at her with crazed eyes. “I’m going to go and see her. Which paper did you get this out of?”
Oh no, she thought. That’s not what I wanted. “Lucien, don’t be foolish. Becky is married now. She looks very happy.”
“I want answers,” he shouted. “I want answers now!”
Melinda had no choice but to tell him the name of the newspaper.
“I’m going there. Right now.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. I want to face Becky alone.”
“Lucien, you’re in no state to drive anywhere. Let me go with you? I’ll take you there.”
“No!” he shouted. “I want to do this alone. The paper must know where they live. According to the article, the guy is well known.”
“I’m sure,” Melinda murmured, afraid now that she’d lose him anyway. But, she had one advantage. Becky was safely married. “Call me when you get back?”
“Yes,” he said over his shoulder while he headed for the bathroom to shower.
While he showered, Lucien’s chest hurt so much he was sure h
is heart was torn into a thousand pieces. A knife kept slowly hacking inside his chest until finally he felt empty, betrayed. Maybe it’s a mistake, he thought. The man looks old enough to be her father.
Betrayed.
The word echoed through his mind causing stabbing pains in his chest while he drove.
Answers.
He needed to hear Becky tell him herself she didn’t love him anymore. That their time together on the island had meant nothing to her.
That she no longer loved him…
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Becky relaxed lazily on a lawn chair and stroked her belly. The baby kicked, causing a lump to appear under the taut skin. She smiled. “Look, Charles. It must be a boy. He kicks so much that it almost feels like he wants to come into the world now.”
Charles sat next to her, his laptop computer on his knees. He glanced sideways at his wife and smiled. “Or an active elf like her mother.” He reached out and placed his hand on her belly for a moment.
“You know, Charles, I was just thinking. It’s really strange that Gavin has never come after me. Surely he knows now that we’re married, especially after that announcement in the paper.”
“Gavin wouldn’t dare cross me. It only proves that he told you a pack of lies. I’d still like to know where he found you. It could be in Australia.”
“If we knew which island he stopped at and how to find Lucien Moore the artist, perhaps he could enlighten us.”
“Yes. Maybe after the baby is born we’ll go on a cruise and look for the island.”
“That would be lovely. Seeing Australia might trigger my memory. You don’t know how awful it is not to know anything about your past. I just wish we’d hear something about the search for my parents.”
“Sweetie, I think many would find it a blessing not to remember their past. But in your case, I doubt if there are any dark secrets. I’m sure the PI will come up with some answers for you soon.”
“I must have been completely different before the accident because how could I have gotten involved with a man like Gavin?”