A Hard Man to Forget (6 page)

Unease trickled down her spine as Laura stared down at the lake. Not
a single ripple marred its tranquil surface. The depths were brown
and fathomless. She could imagine all too easily how someone could
disappear beneath those waters, swallowed whole in that eerie
stillness, never to be seen again.

She abruptly turned away from it, unable to take the sight anymore.
It was all she could do not to close the curtains again. The hand she
raked through her hair trembled. She didn’t know what happened
to Meredith Randall. There was no use thinking about it until she had
more information, and she fully intended to get it.

The bathroom was big and well-furnished. The massive tub was
practically calling out to her. She never had gotten the bath she’d
been dying for yesterday. There certainly wasn’t time for it
now. She ignored the tub and quickly showered. The hot water did a
lot of good in clearing her mind.

Her next dilemma came when she went to get dressed. Knotting a towel
around her, she stepped back into the bedroom. A sort of morbid
curiosity drew her to the walk-in closet. The small room was full of
clothes, shirts and slacks, skirts and dresses, all slightly larger
than her size. But then, she’d lost weight since the attack. A
few years ago they would have fit her perfectly.

She walked the length of the closet, trailing her fingers over the
garments. The room was dusty too, and she was sure she was the first
person to come in here in a very long time. The sadness of it struck
her. All of these clothes going to waste, waiting for someone to wear
them. Was she that person? Were these her clothes? The size issue
made the idea a little more plausible. Though beautiful, the clothes
were rather simple in design, not flashy or ornate in any way.
Whoever Meredith had been, she hadn’t been an extravagant
dresser. These were clothes she, Laura, might have picked out if
she’d been able to afford them. She wasn’t entirely
comfortable with the comparison.

In the end, she had to pick something. She couldn’t wear her
running clothes all day. She settled on a pair of jeans and a
sweater, the plainest, most anonymous garments she could find. It
didn’t help her avoid a hint of discomfort as she put them on.
She didn’t know if she liked the idea of wearing another
woman’s clothes, even a possibly dead one, even if they were
really hers.

The upstairs hallway was silent as Laura stepped out of the bedroom.
Doorways lined the corridors, all of them closed. She wondered if
they were all as unused as Meredith’s bedroom, but she didn’t
linger long enough to find out.

At the bottom of the staircase, the house opened up into a large
living room area and adjacent kitchen. The living room was directly
below the bedroom, with one wall made up of the large bank of windows
looking out on the lake. Again, the sight surprised her. Last night,
she’d imagined the house as some sort of gothic castle, as
bleak and forbidding as its owner. Its style of architecture was
actually fairly modern from what Laura could tell, with a layout that
emphasized open spaces and rooms that flowed into each other, and the
windows which were made to flood the house with light.

The architect likely hadn’t counted on the dense coverage of
trees blocking out much of the sun. The house had a gloomy feel, as
the windows only allowed the shadows to seep in instead of the light.
All that could be seen from the huge windows was green foliage and,
directly in the center, seeming to rise up out of the landscape, the
lake.

Laura suppressed a shiver. She had the feeling the house hadn’t
seen much light in quite some time.

She tentatively ventured into the kitchen. It was empty too. Simon
was nowhere to be seen. The house was deathly quiet.

Laura hesitated. This was her chance. She could leave while he wasn’t
here to stop her, head for the police and let them sort this out.
That would be the logical thing to do.

Except that logic had nothing to do with what she was thinking.
Emotion had taken over. For two years she’d suffered through
that gnawing need to know who she was and where she’d come
from. Now she was closer than she’d ever been to the truth. For
the life of her, she couldn’t bring herself to walk away.

She had to believe he didn’t mean her any harm, at least not in
the physical sense. Last night he’d never stepped closer than a
few feet from the bed. If he’d wanted to kill her, he’d
had plenty of opportunity when she was unconscious.

His angry words left no doubt that he would love to see her in jail.
If he was right, the police might be the last people she should be
seeking help from. At least not until she had a better idea of what
was going on. The idea of going to jail for a crime she couldn’t
remember committing didn’t hold much appeal.

She couldn’t go to the police, not yet. That didn’t mean
trusting him was a better idea.

“Think, Laura,” she whispered. She cast an anxious glance
down the hallway. Time was running out. She had to decide what to do.

Her gaze fell on a phone sitting on the counter. She should at least
let someone know she was all right, and who she was with, in case
something did happen to her.

Making up her mind, Laura crossed the room to the phone. Her stomach
rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten since her lunch with
Jason.

Jason.

He was the obvious person she should call, the only one who’d
really notice she was missing.

A nearby clock said it was 7:30, early enough that he might still be
asleep. She got his machine.

She tried to figure out the best way to describe the situation in a
way that wouldn’t send him rushing to the police. “Jason,
it’s Laura. You might have noticed I wasn’t at home last
night. I didn’t want you to worry. I’ve left town for a
few days. Something came up all of a sudden—"

The phone was jerked out of her hand before she could get out another
word. She whirled around in time to see him disconnect the call. Her
heart leapt into her throat. Not in response to his sudden appearance
nor the cold, emotionless look on his face, but to his physical
presence. He loomed over her, dangerously close, his body radiating
heat and anger. He was just as incredibly good-looking as she
remembered, if not more, and her body was responding. It was the same
way she’d felt when she’d first seen him yesterday, a
stirring deep inside her that was completely inexplicable. More so
now that she knew more about him.

“Who were you calling? The police?”

There was no anger or threat in his voice, just a slight mocking
edge. He stepped closer, clearly trying to intimidate. She’d
had more than enough of that. “Why? Would that bother you? I
thought you wanted to call them in.”

“That’s when I thought this was much more clear-cut. I
still want the answers to my questions before I hand you over. Who
did you call?”

“A friend.”

He arched a brow. “Thinking of letting someone know where you
are?”

“I don’t know where I am,” she retorted.

She’d managed to surprise him. Simon’s eyes narrowed
shrewdly on her face, considering. “Rockwell,” he
murmured. “A couple hours north of San Francisco.”

“Oh.” So not so far then. They hadn’t even left the
state. She should have realized he hadn’t taken her that far;
after all, she couldn’t have been unconscious that long. But
there was something disconcerting about learning just how near they
were to Harrisville. If this was her past, it had been fairly close
the whole time.

“So why did you call someone?”

“I would have to be stupid not to.”

“Indeed. But for the time being, I would appreciate it if you
didn’t make any more calls.”

Laura’s pulse leapt in her throat. “How are you going to
stop me?”

His lips pursed in anger. His only response was to slip the phone in
his pocket.

She swallowed hard. “Are you saying I’m a prisoner?”

“I’m saying that until I get some answers, you’re
not going anywhere. You’re especially not going to be calling
anyone to get you out of here.”

“If that’s the case, you were awfully trusting last
night, not locking me in the bedroom. How did you know I wouldn’t
run?”

“I figured you were still weak after your run-in with that car.
You weren’t going anywhere.”

“What are you going to do now? Because you know, the minute you
look the other way, I’ll be out that door.”

“I thought you wanted to know the truth.”

“Suddenly I’m not so sure it’s worth it under these
circumstances.”

He shrugged. “Your choice. But I wouldn’t try it. We’re
at least a few miles outside of town and there are no neighbors
nearby. You wouldn’t get very far. And I would catch up with
you. I did it the last time, didn’t I?”

A wave of fear washed over her as she took in his words. She really
was alone out here. Trapped with him.

“I’m suddenly understanding why someone would fake their
death to get away from you.”

A flash of emotion passed over his eyes, so fast she couldn’t
get a handle on what it was. Anger? Pain? It vanished as soon as it
appeared, replaced by the same implacable calm.

“I’ll make breakfast,” he said, turning his back to
her.

He brushed beside her, giving her a wide berth. She somehow resisted
the urge to stomp her feet or to throw something at his back. Only
the fact that there wasn’t anything in reach spared him.

To her astonishment, he did exactly as he’d said, starting to
cook as though nothing had happened. He moved around the kitchen with
simple, efficient motions, seeming to pay her no attention. She
didn’t fool herself into thinking he wasn’t watching her
like a hawk.

Uncertain as to what she was supposed to do, what she could do, Laura
gave a wary glance around the shadowy sunlight of the room. If he was
telling the truth—a big if—then she was trapped here with
him. And running would do her no good.

Faced with that bleak thought, Laura fought back the fear that rose
inside of her, and the sudden certainty that she’d made a big
mistake by not running when she’d had the chance.

She was angry with him. From her perspective, she probably had good
reason to be.

What didn’t make sense was that it bothered him.

Simon watched her pick at her plate on the other side of the dining
room table. The pale sunlight washing over her from the wall of glass
seemed an ill match for her stormy countenance.

He’d always hated the windows. He felt too exposed with the
house open like that. Anyone in the woods could see right inside.
There weren’t likely too be too many people wandering around
out there, but he still didn’t like the feeling, which was why
he usually holed up in his office on the other side of the house.
Meredith had wanted it that way. He admitted that the open feel
suited her. Even now, the shadowed sunshine fell over her like a
benediction, surrounding her in a halo of gold, illuminating every
angry line of her expression.

Simon cursed his own stupidity. He should have remembered to do
something about the phone in the kitchen. Instead he’d gotten
caught up in his next bright idea. He’d never considered the
consequences until it was too late. He was doing too much of that
lately.

It was her, he thought. She did this to him. He hadn’t had a
clear thought since she’d come back into his life and muddled
his thoughts.

He wanted to ask her who this Jason was. The jealousy threatened to
choke him. Was he a lover? The man she’d replaced him with? She
had to trust him a great deal if it was he she’d chosen to call
instead of the police.

Judging from the angry jut of her jaw, she wasn’t about to tell
him anything. He watched her stab at her eggs, eyeing them warily. He
almost smiled.

“I didn’t put anything in them, if that’s what
you’re worried about.”

Her glare was scornful. “Is there any reason why I should
believe you?”

“I need you awake and clear-headed. That’s the only way
I’ll be able to tell if you remember anything.” Or if
you’re lying.

“Or if I’m lying?”

She’d managed to startle him. For a moment, Simon almost
suspected she’d read his mind. It could be that he wasn’t
hiding his emotions well enough. Or that she knew him too well to be
fooled.

“Or that,” he agreed.

Apparently being right didn’t offer her any satisfaction.
Pushing her plate away, she folded her arms over her chest, leaned
back in her chair, and glared at him. “So how do you plan on
proving I’m your wife?” she demanded. “Blood test?
Dental records?”

Sighing, Simon threw his napkin over his plate. It looked like his
meal was over too. He wasn’t hungry anyway. “There are no
dental records,” he explained. “We had some pretty
serious forest fires a couple of years back. They took out about half
of the buildings in town, including the dentist’s office.”

“Convenient,” she murmured.

“About as convenient as you having ‘amnesia,’”
he returned.

Her eyes narrowed on his face. Simon was fairly certain that if she
did have any superpowers, he would have been reduced to a pile of
ashes by now.

“What about DNA tests?”

“There’s nothing to test against. I threw out most of her
toiletries, so unless there’s a stray hair somewhere we’re
out of luck. There are no family members left, and I seriously doubt
any blood is on file somewhere.”

The anger drained from her face. When she spoke again, her voice had
gone quiet. “There’s no family? None?”

He hadn’t expected her reaction. He stared at her, not knowing
what to say. Offering comfort was hardly his strong suit. There was a
reason he was a recluse.

“There’s me,” he tried weakly.

She snorted. “That’s a big comfort.”

He saw her point. “I’m sorry.”