The Second Mrs. Adams

by Sandra Marton

  “I am not getting myself all upset,” he snarled, “hell, I’m already upset!” He strode to the triple window and looked out. “Look at the size of that city! Jo could be out there anywhere, alone and hurt and in God only knows what sort of trouble.”

  “She’s not in trouble, and she didn’t disappear. She simply left you, David. I mean,” she added quickly, when he swung toward her, “that’s what you told me. You said she wrote a note.”

  “Yeah, but what does that prove? She’d been ill. She’d been in an accident. She’d hurt her head…” His face, already pale beneath its usual tan, seemed to get even whiter. He kicked the chair out from behind his desk, sighed and sank down into it. “If only I knew she was OK.”

  “She is.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  But I do, Morgana thought smugly, I surely do. Joanna Adams was as well as could be expected for a woman who moped around Morgana’s apartment all day, looking as if she’d lost her best friend.

  It was definitely time to get her out from underfoot. Joanna thought so, too; Morgana had come home two days ago and found her unwelcome boarder with her suitcase packed. She was moving into a hotel, Joanna had said, and though Morgana’s first instinct had been to applaud, common sense had prevailed.

  If Joanna were on her own, there was no telling what might happen. Suppose she changed her mind and decided to confront David? Or suppose she and David simply bumped into each other? Manhattan was a big island, jammed with millions of people and the odds on that happening were small but still…

  Morgana’s brain had recoiled from the possibilities. She had to keep Joanna on ice just a little longer. So she’d thought fast and come up with a story about David cutting off Joanna’s credit cards and bank accounts.

  “The bottom line,” she’d said with a gentle smile, “is that you’ll just have to stay here a little while longer, dear.”

  What could Joanna have done but agree?

  The only problem was that things weren’t going quite as Morgana had expected. She’d assumed David would be distraught, yes, but not…what was the word to describe his behaviour the last several days? Disturbed? Upset?

  Frantic, was more like it. He’d gone half crazy when he learned his wife had left him, calling the police, hiring private detectives…

  And brushing off all Morgana’s attempts to offer comfort.

  She looked at him now, sitting behind his desk with his head buried in his hands. It was ridiculous, that he should mourn the loss of a girl as common as Joanna.

  “Ridiculous,” she muttered.

  David’s head came up. “What’s ridiculous?”

  Morgana flushed. “That—that the police haven’t found her yet.”

  David sighed wearily and scrubbed his hands over his face. He hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time since he’d come home to find Joanna gone and exhaustion was catching up with him.

  “Jo left a note…it means she’s not technically a missing person. If it wasn’t for her having amnesia, they wouldn’t bother looking at all.”

  “She doesn’t have amnesia, not anymore. She remembered everything.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that, Morgana?”

  “Well…” She swallowed dryly as she searched for the right words. “Well, you said that was in the note. That she’d gotten her memory back.”

  “Yeah, but what does that mean? What does she remember?” He put his hands flat on his desk and wearily shoved back his chair. “Corbett says memory sometimes returns in bits and pieces. For all I know, she doesn’t remember the things that matter.”

  A look came over his face that made Morgana’s stomach curdle.

  “Honestly, David,” she snapped, “one would think you’d remember the things that matter, too.”

  The look he gave her all but stopped her breath.

  “Maybe you’d like to explain that,” he said with sudden coldness.

  Morgana hesitated. Well, why not? It might be time for a little straight talking, if she could do it with care.

  “I mean,” she said, “that you seem to have forgotten that your marriage to Joanna was always doomed.”

  “Doomed?” David rose to his feet. “What in hell gives you that idea?”

  “David, don’t let your irritation out on me!”

  “I just want a simple answer to a simple question, Morgana. Why would you think my marriage had been doomed?”

  Morgana’s lips pursued. “Honestly, you act as if I weren’t privy to the divorce proceedings. And to the years that led up to them. I know, better than anyone, how badly things had gone for you and Joanna.”

  David’s mouth thinned. “You weren’t privy to how much I loved her,” he said coldly. “As for the divorce proceedings… that was behind us.”

  “After she’d lost her memory, of course, but—”

  “Memory be damned!” He slammed his fist on the desk. Morgana jumped, and papers went flying in all directions. “I love her, do you understand? Even if she’d recovered her memory, there was no reason to think we couldn’t have worked things out. Corbett made me see that. I’d loved the woman Joanna had once been, I loved the woman she’d become… Hell, there had to have been a reason she’d changed during our marriage. And I came home that day, knowing it was time to tell her the truth and to tell her that, together, we could find the answers…”

  He turned away sharply and his voice broke. Morgana hesitated. Then she went slowly to where he stood and put her hand on his back.

  “David,” she said softly, “you’ve got to accept what’s happened.”

  “I don’t know what’s happened, don’t you understand?”

  “Joanna remembered. And when she did, she knew she wanted just what she’d wanted before the accident, to be free of you—”

  She cried out as he swung around and grabbed hold of her wrist.

  “How do you know that?”

  Morgana stared at him. “Because…because that’s the way it was,” she stammered. “You told me—”

  “Never.”

  “You did! You said she wanted a divorce.”

  “I said we’d agreed on a divorce.” David’s eyes were cold as the onyx clock on his desk as they searched Morgana’s face. “I never said Jo wanted to be free of me.”

  “Well, I suppose I just assumed…” Morgana looked at his hand, coiled around hers. “David, you’re hurting me.”

  “Hell,” he muttered. He let go of her wrist and drew a ragged breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “It’s all right I understand.”

  “If only I’d gotten home earlier.”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself.”

  “If only the maid or the housekeeper had been there.”

  “David, please. Try and. relax.”

  “Even Hollister was gone. He had to pick that damned afternoon to get the oil changed in that miserable car.”

  “Oh, David, my heart breaks for you. If there were only something I could… What are you doing?”

  David shrugged on his jacket. “I’m going home. It’s better than pacing a hole in the floor.”

  “Oh, don’t! Let me make us some tea.”

  “I need an hour’s sleep more than I need tea. You might as well take the rest of the day off, too.”

  “But it’s only midafternoon. We can’t just abandon the office!”

  He smiled. “Trust me, Morgana. We can.”

  “But…”

  It was useless to protest. He was gone.

  Morgana walked around David’s desk and sat down in his chair. Her mouth twisted.

  Damn Joanna! She might have been gone but she wasn’t forgotten. And she was an ever-present threat, so long as she remained in New York. She didn’t belong here. She never had. She wasn’t sophisticated enough, or clever enough, or beautiful enough. Not for the city and not for David.

  Joanna belonged back in whatever hick town she’d come from.

  Mo
rgana’s grimace became a smile. She shoved back the chair and marched to the door.

  And the sooner, the better.

  * * *

  Morgana’s apartment held the deep silence of midafternoon.

  “Joanna?” She slammed the door and tossed her purse and briefcase on a chair. “Joanna, where are you? We have to talk.”

  Not that she’d give the little slut the chance to talk. She’d simply hand the girl a check, tell her to buy herself a one-way bus ticket, and that would be that.

  Life would return to normal. To better than normal, because now David would need solace.

  And Morgana would be there to offer it.

  What was that?

  Her heart began to hammer as soon as she saw the note propped against the toaster in the kitchen. The quiet and that folded piece of white paper filled her with foreboding.

  She opened the note, smoothed it carefully with her fingers.

  Dear Morgana,

  You’ve been so kind but I can’t go on imposing. This morning, I remembered a small cache of money I’d tucked away. I’m going home to get it and then…

  “No,” Morgana whispered. She crumpled the note in her hand. “No,” she said, her voice rising to a wail, and she raced from the apartment

  * * *

  It didn’t take Joanna very long to find what she was looking for.

  The couple of hundred dollars she’d squirreled away more than a year ago was in her night table, right where she’d left it. She’d put the money aside last year, to buy David a special birthday gift…

  As if that would have changed anything.

  Her eyes misted and she rubbed them hard with the heel of her hand. It was stupid, thinking about that. Those days were over and gone. Now, what she had to do was concentrate on the future.

  And on slipping out of the house as quietly as she’d slipped in.

  It was foolish, she knew, but she didn’t want to see anybody. Her timing was right. At this hour on a Friday, Mrs. Timmons would be out marketing. Ellen and Hollister would be in the kitchen, eyes glued to their favorite soap operas.

  Joanna made her way quietly down the stairs. The house lay in midafternoon shadow, adding to its natural gloom. She shuddered and thought that she would not miss these over-furnished, cold rooms.

  The only thing she’d miss was David, and that was just plain stupid. Songs by the truckload had been written about the pain of unrequited love but in the real world, how could you go on loving someone who didn’t love you?

  Before the accident, she’d come to terms with that fact. She’d accepted the truth of their impending divorce, and she would again. Her weepiness this past week, her anguish at the thought of losing her husband…it was just a setback, and perfectly understandable in light of all that had happened to her, first the amnesia and then the shock of her recovery, and in between that long, wonderful weekend…

  No. It hadn’t been that at all. The weekend had been a lie. And she could never forgive David for that, for what he’d stirred in her heart while she’d lain in the warmth of his arms…

  The front door swung open just as she reached it. Startled, Joanna jumped back, expecting to see Mrs. Timmons’s dour face.

  But it wasn’t the housekeeper who stood framed in the doorway, it was David.

  They stared at each other, the both of them speechless. Joanna recovered first.

  “Hello, David,” she said. He didn’t answer but he didn’t have to. The look on his face was far more eloquent than words. He was glaring at her, his amazement giving way to repressed rage. “I—I suppose you’re surprised to see me.”

  Surprised? He was stunned. He was a man who’d never been at a loss for words in his life but at this moment, he was damned near speechless and tom by half a dozen conflicting emotions, all of them waning to get out.

  Anger, born of a week’s worth of pain and fueled by the way Joanna was looking at him, as if he was the last man on earth she’d ever wanted to see, won out.

  “Where in hell have you been?”

  Joanna winced. “You don’t have to yell, David, I’m not deaf.”

  “Thank you for the information.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Now answer the question. Where have you been?”

  “I didn’t come here to quarrel,” she said carefully.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  David slammed the door behind him. He took a step toward her and she held her ground through sheer determination.

  “Why did you come here, then? To see if I’d torn the wallpaper as I climbed the walls while I tried to figure out if you were dead or alive or maybe just sitting in an alley someplace, singing Hey Nonny Nonny while you wove flowers into your hair?”

  Color swept into her cheeks. “I am perfectly sane. I’ve told you that before.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she said, and this time when he moved toward her she couldn’t keep from taking a quick step back because if she hadn’t, they’d have been nose to nose. Or nose to chest, considering the size of him…

  “Well, lady, you sure could have fooled me.”

  Joanna’s chin lifted. “I didn’t come here to be insulted.”

  “Fascinating.” He unbuttoned his jacket and slapped his hands on his hips. “You didn’t come here to quarrel. You didn’t come to be insulted. Near as I can figure, that only leaves us with a couple of thousand other possibilities. Are we going to go through them one by one or are you going to tell me how come you decided to honor me with your presence?”

  It took a few seconds to get enough moisture into her mouth so she could swallow.

  “I came to get something.”

  “Something?”

  “Yes.”

  David folded his arms over his chest. “I never much cared for Twenty Questions to start with, Joanna, and I find I’m liking it less and less as this conversation goes on.”

  “It isn’t a conversation, it’s an inquisition!”

  His smile was quick and chill. “No, it’s not. Not yet, anyway, but if I don’t start getting some straight answers it’s sure as hell going to become one.”

  Joanna folded her arms over her chest, too.

  “I came to get some money I’d put…”

  She bit her lip. Hollister and Ellen had materialized in the hallway and were staring at them both with wide eyes. David frowned and swung around, following her gaze.

  “Well?” he barked. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing, sir,” Hollister said quickly. “We simply heard the door slam, and then voices…” He looked at Ellen. “Well, uh, we’ll just go be getting back to the kitchen.”

  “You do that,” David said coldly. “Better still, go for a walk. Or a drive. Just leave us alone.”

  Hollister nodded, grabbed Ellen’s arm and hustled her away. Joanna, trying to take advantage of the interruption, headed for the door. David reached out and clamped his hand around her wrist.

  “Let go,” she demanded.

  “The hell I will. You were about to explain why you came here.”

  “I told you, I’d put away some money. I came to get it.” Her chin lifted. “I admit, it was yours to begin with but I—”

  David cursed, with an eloquence that made her blush.

  “Your money? My money? What kind of garbage is that? Money is money, that’s all. It always belonged to the both of us.”

  “I only meant that I’d saved this on my own.”

  “And what, pray tell, do you need this little ‘nest egg’. for?”

  Joanna licked her lips. “To leave town,”

  “Leave town,” David repeated. His voice was flat but the muscle was jumping in his cheek again. “As in, cut and run without having the decency to face me and tell me you were leaving me?”

  “I did tell you,” Joanna said, wrenching out of his grasp. “I left you a note.”

  “Oh, yeah, you certainly did. ‘Dear David, My memory came back and I want the divorce.’ Yours Very Truly…”<
br />
  “I didn’t say that,” she snapped, her cheeks flaming.

  “No,” he said coldly, “not the ‘Yours Very Truly’ part but you might as well have.”

  “David, this is senseless. I told you, I didn’t come to argue.”

  “Right. You came for money you’d squirreled away, I suppose for just such an occasion, so you could do a disappearing act if the going got tough.”

  She moved so fast that her fist, slamming into his shoulder, was a blur.

  “Hey…”

  “You…you rat!” Her eyes, black with fury, locked on his. “I saved that money so I could buy you a carburetor for your last birthday!”

  David’s face went blank. “A what?”

  “A carburetor. That—that thing you kept drooling over in that stupid car parts catalog, the Foley or the Holy…”

  “Holley,” he said in a choked whisper. “A Holley carb.”

  “Whatever. You had this dumb thing about just ordering it from the catalog, all this crazy male macho about it being better to stumble across it yourself in some stupid, dirty junkyard…”

  “It isn’t male macho, it’s simple logic,” David said with dignity, “and what were you doing, buying me a Holley carb in the first place? It sure as hell didn’t go with your image.”

  “No,” Joanna said, and all at once he could see the anger drain from her face. “It didn’t But then, just before your last birthday I was still fool enough to think—to hope—that maybe buying you a gift would remind you of how things had once been for us…”

  She stared at him, her mouth trembling, despising herself for what she’d almost blurted out that she loved him, that she would always love him…

  A choked sob burst from her throat. Eyes blinded with tears, she turned away. “Goodbye, David. I’ll let you know where to send my things. On second thought you can give them away. Maybe the Goodwill people want—”

  She cried out as he hoisted her unceremoniously into his arms and stalked into his study.

  “David, are you crazy? Put me…”

  He dumped her on her feet, slammed the door shut behind them, and glared at her.

  “You’re not going anywhere until we’ve had this out,” he said grimly.

  “We have nothing to talk about.”