Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center) (11 page)

BOOK: Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center)
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“Neither do I.”

He held her glare. Finally, it seemed to hit him that he had been threatening her, and he stilled, as if torn between civility and outrage. “Be warned,” he said, opting for outrage. “I’m going to ask you once—only once—then I’m going to call the police.”

“You’re doing it again, Mr. Brandt.”

“Doing what?”

“Assuming I won’t answer before you ask the question.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Do you always react to your assumptions
before the events occur, or am I a special case because I survived an abduction and beating and made the sorry mistake of coming to your center for help?”

That set him back on his heels. He recovered quickly and clenched his teeth. “Where did you get Susan’s cross?”

Susan stood and faced him toe-to-toe. The urge to scream at him coursed through her with a force so strong it nearly knocked her to her knees. She fought to hold back.

God, if You want me to be patient with this man, then You’ve got to help me, because what I most want at the moment is to slap him, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist the temptation
.

Ben didn’t budge. He stood feet spread, arms crossed, waiting for her response.

“I’ve already answered that question. But because you’re clearly out of control, I’ll do so again.” She paused to let that blunt remark sink in. Maybe he’d turn himself around, though she wasn’t banking on it. “I don’t know where I got the cross. I was unconscious. I had it and the card when I woke up. I put it on. That’s it. The whole truth as I know it.”

“So you’re sticking with your disgusting memory-loss story.”

“I don’t have a lot of choice.” Her hands shook. She clenched them into fists at her sides, lifted her chin, and looked up into his eyes. “It’s the truth.”

“I don’t believe you!”

More afraid than she’d been when the abductor had shattered her car window, she stilled. Everything in her warned her to back out of his reach, but she was too afraid to move.

“Ben!” Peggy Crane stepped between them. “That’s more than enough. Back off.”

He turned his glare on Peggy. “This isn’t your concern.”

“This is very much my concern. I’m the director of Crossroads Crisis Center, and that makes everything that goes on in it my business. You will not come in here and browbeat a victim. Now, calm down or I’ll call Detective Meyers in and have you removed.”

His jaw dropped. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“That’s my exact advice to you.” She turned her back on him and looked at Susan. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Her knees wobbled. If they folded and she fell flat on her face, she’d never forgive herself.

Peggy gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Lisa, why don’t you walk Susan down to the ladies’ room so she can freshen up a bit and get rid of some of the mud? I’m sure it itches.”

It did. “I’ll be fine on my own,” she said, knowing somehow it was true. Had she been on her own a lot? Or had she wished she was but wasn’t?
Blank slate
.

“It’s no trouble.” Lisa rose.

Susan waved her back to her seat. “Stay. I need a few minutes to myself.” She looked at Ben, hoping she wasn’t taking her life in her hands by speaking to him. “I’m sorry for my part in whatever is happening here, but I am more mystified by it than you.” Her mouth stone dry, she licked her lips and removed all emotion from her voice. “That said, I’m going to say something to you—only once—and I suggest you remember it.”

She paused to make sure she had his full attention. “I understand that you’re under duress and that stress makes people do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do. I’m under duress too. But I have suffered the indignities you’ve shoved on me with the most dignity and grace I could manage. I agree that I fall really short of perfect. But at least I’ve made the effort. You haven’t.”

“This is what I need to remember? A lecture?”

“No, Mr. Brandt. This is what you need to remember.” She dipped her chin. “Don’t scream at me again. Not now, not ever. You may not respect me enough to restrain yourself, but I respect myself too much not to restrain you.”

His jaw clamped shut; his eyelids snapped to slits.

She gave him a moment to get a grip and then went on. “I do see the same multiple connections you see. I intend to find out who I am, and I hope that includes gaining some insight on your wife’s cross and why it was in my pocket. If you want me to share what I learn, then you need to adjust your attitude toward me, because I’ve tolerated all the indignity and disrespect from you I’m going to.”

Forestalling any response, she turned to Peggy. “I saw a chapel down the hall. If and when you want me, after I freshen up, I’ll be there”—she spared Ben a glance—“praying for patience.”

Glass shattered.

From the reception area, Mel screamed.

“Stay here.” Ben shot past Susan, then rushed out the door.

Something exploded.

“Mr. Johnson?”

His New Orleans recruit. “Yes?” His cell phone at his ear, Paul stepped out onto the terrace and checked to make sure none of the staff was lurking. He wasn’t happy about the recruit knowing his name, but when you cut off a man’s finger, you get close.

“Something disturbing has come to light here this morning.” He paused, then added, “One of my men found a tap on my line.”

Very disturbing news
. “How long has it been there?”

“Long enough that some of our conversations might have been intercepted.”

“I’m not going to ask how this happened—I don’t care. I want to know
who
made it happen and that you’ve neutralized any threat.”

“Yes sir. I’ll let you know as soon as the problem’s resolved.”

Paul flipped his phone shut and flattened his mouth to a slash that had his jaw aching. Losing a finger hadn’t made the man more cautious, but he had to be worried now about losing his head. He should be—and he’d have good reason to worry
after
he corrected the problem.

Paul went back inside. Maybe Chessman had been smart about using throwaway cells and text messages. No voiceprints. No indisputable proof of who had sent them.

That he had could be helpful.

7

M
el!” Ben got to the front of the building first, scanned frantically through flame and smoke, and spotted her near a group of sofas. “Are you hurt?”

“It won’t work!” Mel wrestled with a fire extinguisher nearly as large as she was. She pushed and pushed on the release button. “Nothing’s happening!”

Ben took it from her, released the pin, and began spraying foam on the blaze burning the rug under the table and the flaming magazines atop it.

Billowing acrid smoke stung his nostrils, burned his eyes. Soon, two other streams flanked his, and the hiss of fire fell to the gush of retardant. Minutes more and the smoke settled enough for him to see beyond the end of his nose. Harvey Talbot stood beside Ben. That woman—he refused to call her Susan—was at the far end of the extinguisher line, the canister strap slung across her chest.

She might not know who she was, but she knew how to use an extinguisher. At some time during the process, she’d torn loose the bandage on her head. Her wound had started bleeding again; fresh blood soaked her blond hair and trickled down her face to her jaw.

The last of the flames snuffed out.

“Is everyone okay?” Peggy yelled out, fluttering around, surveying
the damage. Once-white foam clung to her shoes, and shattered glass crunched on the tile under her feet. Some of the stinging smoke drafted out through the broken window, but enough remained that her eyes were red rimmed and watering.

By rote, everyone answered: Mel, from her desk, the phone at her ear. Harvey and Lisa, both within sight. Lisa looked flushed and worried, no doubt thinking her crazy stepfather had gone nuts again and done this. Everyone looked uninjured … except that woman. She stood statuestill, staring at the soot-streaked floor, the extinguisher still in her hand.

Lisa stepped toward her. “Susan, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She frowned at the damage, clearly anything but fine.

“You’re bleeding.” Lisa coughed, then coughed again. “I need to check your wound and put on a fresh bandage. Let’s get to the exam room.”

“No.” Ben set his extinguisher down near Mel’s desk. “Stay with the group.”

“Ben’s right. This could have been a diversion.” Peggy moved toward the exam room. “I’ll get the supplies you need.”

“Go with her, Harvey,” Ben said. “Run a perimeter check.”

“You’ve got it.” Harvey fell into step with Peggy.

“You handled that extinguisher like a pro, Susan.” Lisa caught the woman by the arm and led her to a chair in a sitting area away from the damage. “Let’s get you seated for a second.”

She sat down, seemingly unaware she’d been swaying on her feet. Ben studied her. Shock, maybe?

Harvey returned from the back offices. “No other breach to the building.”

That was a relief. Peggy’s comment about diversions had crossed his mind too.
Let go of it, Ben. It wasn’t a diversion. Everyone’s fine
. He skimmed
the damage—more mess than structural damage—and his gaze automatically pivoted back to the woman.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, he saw things a little more objectively. Pale, slumped from exhaustion, and he couldn’t mistake the horror haunting her eyes. It was all reflected on her face—a face, sans the bruises and cuts and smudges of blood and soot, remarkably like Susan’s. She was shaking too. Good thing Lisa had her sitting. There was no way her knees wouldn’t buckle.

Lisa spoke softly to her; he couldn’t make out the words, but the woman didn’t appear to be making them out either. She gave no outward sign she heard a word. Her lips didn’t move, though her jaw quivered and tears brimmed in her eyes, then spilled in jagged trails down her cheeks.

Smoke? Or delayed reaction to being involved in another attack? He rested a hip on a table against the wall. Depended on whether or not there’d been a first attack. The beating had been real enough; her injuries proved that. But had her carjacking and abduction been real or manufactured?

She’d convinced Lisa, Harvey, and Peggy. They sided with her against him. He had always trusted their judgment implicitly, but this was an atypical situation. He didn’t dare to even trust his own.

“Hot line call,” Mel said.

“I’ll take it,” Harvey told her, then took off down the hall.

Ben watched him go, then looked back at the woman.
No change. Silent tears
.

If she had been working with someone else to pull a scam, then obviously that person had turned on her. Frankly, though, that didn’t fit. She’d acted to protect his property and her shock now wasn’t faked. No one was that good an actress.

She could be the real thing.

And he’d treated her … He didn’t even want to think about how he’d treated her. He didn’t want to think at all. Sweating profusely, he swiped at his brow and then turned to Mel. “Did you get through to the fire department and sheriff’s office?” They’d need both for the insurance reports.

“On their way.” She swiped her nose.

He was tempted to do the same. The stench of burned fabric and paper permeated everything. “Thanks.” Ben gave Mel a pat on the shoulder. She was young and unorthodox and she dressed a little funky, but she was one of the center’s best success stories. On her own and trying to make something good of her life, she had earned everyone’s respect and admiration. “Good initiative.”

She responded with a wobbly smile.

“Here you go.” Peggy passed Lisa the supplies, then joined Mel and him.

“You okay?” Peggy asked while conducting her own visual inspection.

Since Mel had shown up at the center nearly two years ago, they’d all pseudoadopted her. The kid didn’t have anyone else. Even before she had run away from her drug-addict mother and stepfather, she’d been on her own. For all intents and purposes, she’d had to be self-reliant since she was eight years old and her real father died.

Mel stood with her hand soothing her abdomen. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mrs. Crane.”

“Everything in order back there?” Ben asked Peggy, motioning toward the exam rooms.

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