Forget to Remember (26 page)

The policeman who had responded to the motel
clerk’s 911 call found out she was the victim and asked her what
had happened. When she tried to answer that question, she was glad
Paul was coming to help her. She followed his instructions and kept
the story simple. She said she’d been attacked by a stranger. She
didn’t want to give a long and involved explanation of something
the local police couldn’t help her with, especially since her ID
said she was Carol Golden, not Cynthia Sakai, the brother of
Michael Sakai who was supposed to be dead and would be using an
assumed name, anyway.

The officer seemed to buy her story, but she
was still relieved when Paul arrived. He was magnificent. Upon
receiving her call, he’d phoned the Chapel Hill police, just in
case Michael was headed toward the farm. Not being content with
that, he called a private security service and had the owner
position a guard on the farm twenty-four hours a day to monitor all
traffic coming along the private road. Since there was only one
approach to the farm, that would be easy to do. Maybe guarding Mrs.
Horton wouldn’t be as hard as she thought.

Paul told the policeman who he was, which
carried some weight, vouched for Carol, and helped place the
thought in his head that this was a random attack. The officer took
statements from the motel clerk, the man who helped Carol, and the
other members of his party. There was no physical evidence; Michael
had taken his knife and hadn’t left any blood or pieces of clothing
behind, and certainly no fingerprints. Carol remembered he’d been
wearing gloves.

Still, it was some time before the officer
left. The patrol cars searching for Michael hadn’t found him. He’d
slipped through their fingers. Carol and Paul sat down at one of
the breakfast tables. She drank water while he had a cup of coffee.
He asked her if she was absolutely sure it was Michael who attacked
her.

Carol nodded. “I caught a whiff of his
aftershave when I hit him with the chair. The vile smelling stuff
he used always made me sick. That’s the memory that came back to me
when I was talking to my friend, Janet, in England.”

“Is it the same aftershave he had on the
first time he attacked you?”

“Yes. He’s always used it.” Carol was
worried about what Michael might do next. “Do you really think
he’ll go after Mrs. Horton?”

“She’s not the heir, but she can identify
you as Cynthia. Since Michael’s mind is not that of a completely
sane person and we’re not completely sure what his game is, we have
to cover all the bases.”

“I’ve been wondering how Michael knew I was
here. Someone must have tipped him off, in time for him to drive
all the way down from Virginia, if that’s where he’s living.”

“Who did you tell?”

“Nobody. I told Grandma I was staying in
Hillsborough, but I didn’t tell her the name of the motel.”

“Did you tell Audrey?”

“No. Audrey didn’t know anything. I was with
Grandma most of the day. Neither of us said anything to Audrey
about where I was staying.”

“You must have told somebody.”

Carol thought. “There was one person.”

“Who?”

“Rose, your paralegal.”

Paul looked upset. “It couldn’t have been
Rose. She wouldn’t do that sort of thing.”

“Listen, Paul. I remember now. When I called
your office to invite you to dinner I talked to Rose. After she
checked with you and we confirmed the appointment, she didn’t hang
up immediately. She asked me some questions. I thought she had a
friendly concern for me, so I answered them. She asked me how my
memory was. I said it was still a problem. I told her I’d been to
England. I didn’t tell her I was sure of my identity, because I
wanted Grandma to tell you.

“Then she asked whether I was staying at the
farm. I said I was staying at a motel. She asked for the name of
it. I gave it to her. Then she asked for my room number, in case,
she said, you had to get hold of me here. I gave her that. Michael
knew my room number. He was lurking in the stairway just a couple
of doors from my room. He expected me to come from the elevator
instead of up the stairs. I’m sure his plan was to follow me into
my room before the door closed and then kill me.”

“Shit.” Paul stared at his coffee cup. “Rose
couldn’t have done it. She couldn’t be in cahoots with Michael,
could she?” He thought some more. “I’m going to talk to her in the
morning.”

“Michael also knew when I was coming here
the first time. That’s when he called Grandma and threatened her.
How would he have known if Rose hadn’t told him?”

This was one time Carol was glad to have
Paul escort her to her room. They went inside together and made
sure Michael wasn’t hiding in the closet. He had her spooked, and
she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d somehow been able to come
through the wall.

When she was convinced Michael wasn’t there,
Carol kicked Paul out and said she’d talk to him in the morning.
She locked the dead bolt and set the chain and turned on the
television set for company.

***

It was late, but Paul had to find out the
truth about Rose. If she tipped off Michael about Carol, she could
be an accessory to attempted murder. A murder that would cheat him
out of millions of dollars. That was too unfeeling. He really liked
Carol; he wouldn’t want any harm to come to her even if she weren’t
a valuable asset to him. He often thought about their night
together and wished it could be repeated. She had the softest skin
of any woman he’d ever known.

He went back to his office and started
rooting through Rose’s desk. Looking for—what? The smoking gun. She
probably didn’t write anything down. He turned on her computer, but
he wasn’t knowledgeable enough to find hidden information about
Michael, such as an address or phone number. She probably had it
stored in her cell phone, anyway, which of course she had with her.
Damn modern technology.

Not knowing what else to do, he took a quick
look through the office file cabinets but didn’t turn up anything
suspicious. The files contained a folder for each of his clients.
None looked out of place. The Sakai folder was thick but didn’t
have anything unusual in it, as far as he could tell. Rose was too
smart for that, especially since he looked at it all the time. He
had perused it that afternoon.

He couldn’t open the middle drawer of Rose’s
desk. It had its own lock. What did she keep in that drawer? She
had the only key. They kept a small tool kit in the office for
doing minor repairs. Paul retrieved a long screwdriver. He shoved
the blade between the top of the drawer and the desk frame. This
damaged the desk, but that couldn’t be helped. Using brute force,
he pried the drawer open, breaking the flimsy lock.

Inside the drawer were several pencils and
pens and some other office supplies. There were also a few papers.
Paul pulled out the papers and dumped them on the desktop. Among
them was a checkbook. He knew she had a checking account at the
bank close to the office. He picked it up. Rose was meticulous
about keeping the office accounts. She probably kept her checkbook
the same way.

He opened the checkbook and looked at the
ledger. All her deposits and withdrawals were neatly entered. Paul
recognized the amount of her paycheck, entered regularly every two
weeks. He thumbed through the pages of the ledger until he reached
entries that had been made within the past few weeks. The running
balance took a big jump on one page.

Paul knew Rose didn’t have any outside
sources of income. Her parents didn’t have any money to spare. Her
only investment was a 401K plan Paul managed. He looked at the
four-figure deposit that caused the increase in the balance. The
notation for it was “WF.” What did that stand for? The timing was
such that it must be a payment in return for her telling Michael
when Carol was coming for the first time. WF must stand for
Weatherford Foundation.

This was the smoking gun.

CHAPTER 33

Rose was crying. Paul handed her his
handkerchief to dry her tears. They were sitting on the sofa in his
office he used to meet with his clients in a more informal
atmosphere than talking across a desk. He had come in early, before
she arrived, so he could confront her before she started wondering
about her desk being broken into.

She spoke haltingly. “I didn’t know Michael
was alive. I certainly didn’t know he was trying to kill Carol. I
was dealing with Katherine Simpson at the Weatherford Foundation.
She asked me to notify her any time Carol came into town. I didn’t
know Carol was actually the heir. What Katherine wanted sounded
innocent enough. I didn’t even think the information was
particularly confidential. I wasn’t trying to cheat Carol out of
her inheritance. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I needed the
money. My son has to have orthodontia.”

Paul believed her. She wasn’t a murderer.
Except for this incident, she’d been a loyal and dependable
employee. He was inclined to be lenient. “You betrayed office
confidentiality, so, of course, I have to let you go. I won’t press
charges if you won’t have any more dealings with Katherine Simpson.
Don’t say anything about Michael being alive to anyone. In
addition, tell me everything you know about Katherine and the
foundation.”

“I don’t know anything. I’ve never met
Katherine. All I have is her phone number. She sent me two checks
drawn on the foundation. The first was a sort of retainer with the
understanding I would give her a heads up about any possible heir
to the Sakai estate. The other was for telling her Carol was coming
here the first time. She promised me another check for telling her
about Carol’s return.”

“When Carol called here, you pumped her for
the name of the motel where she was staying and her room number.
That doesn’t sound innocent.”

Rose blew her nose into what had been Paul’s
clean handkerchief. “Katherine gave me a list of things to find out
whenever Carol came to town. I didn’t think it was anything
sinister. I was just trying to earn my money.”

Paul had another thought. “The first time
Carol came, did you give Katherine the address where she was
staying in Los Angeles?”

“Well…yes.”

“That almost cost Carol her life. Michael
flew out to California and shot her. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t
serious, but it could have been.”

Rose sobbed. “I didn’t mean to hurt
her.”

***

Carol grabbed a bagel from the continental
breakfast setup in the motel lobby and chugged down a glass of
orange juice. She had slept longer than she intended. She checked
out of the motel as she was leaving. She would be staying at the
farm from now on.

She drove directly to the farm. She was
concerned about Mrs. Horton’s safety. She passed through the gate
in the deer fence and was approaching the house when she saw a man
in the driveway. He was wearing the uniform of a security service.
He motioned for her to stop. She did so and rolled down her
window.

He was middle-aged, with a pot belly, not
her idea of a guard. He did have a gun, but she suspected she could
get the better of him in hand-to-hand combat. She introduced
herself. He nodded, consulting a list. “I’m Tim. You’re the
granddaughter. I understand you’ve got two names, Carol and
Cynthia.” He smiled, showing a missing tooth.

She didn’t tell him about her third name.
She told him she was glad he was there. He must have been lonely
because he became chatty. “I’ve got the day shift today. We’re
furnishing twenty-four hour coverage. The deer fence around the
house is a big help, because it only has a few gates. Even though
the fence is quite long, we can essentially watch all the gates
from this spot. Just the same, I’m periodically walking the fence.
At night we’re going to turn on the outside lights to aid
visibility.”

“This is the only road to the farm.” Carol
was thinking out loud. “To get to the other gates, a person would
have to walk through the woods or the fields. That would limit his
escape possibilities.”

“Yes, ma’am. Exactly what we figured.”

The guard service hadn’t been given
Michael’s name, only a description of him. He wouldn’t be using his
real name, anyway, but more important, to the rest of the world
Michael was dead. Carol and Paul wanted Michael to be under the
illusion he was still unidentified. His sister had seen him, but
she had amnesia. With his mental problems, he might buy into the
idea that he was invincible. In that case, he wouldn’t feel the
need to act cautiously.

“Thanks for being here. I’m sure Mrs. Horton
feels safer. I know I do. Keep up the good work.”

“I will. You can rest assured we’ll protect
you.”

Carol returned his gap-toothed smile. She
was quite certain she’d made a conquest. Not only was that good for
her ego, it might come in handy. She drove to the house and parked
in front of the garage. She carried her suitcase and backpack along
the sidewalk that fronted the house, accompanied by Butch. Audrey
met her at the front door and started gushing.

“Carol. Are you all right? I understand you
had a confrontation with Michael last night. Or should I say
Cynthia? I don’t know what to call you.”

“Thank you. I’m fine. You can call me
anything you want. Just don’t call me late to dinner. But please,
don’t mention Michael to anyone outside the family. We don’t want
the news media trumpeting the story he’s alive.”

“Of course not. Here’s your key to the
house. Mr. Vigiano already phoned. He said he’s coming over about
noon, so I invited him for lunch. The poor man is living alone now,
and he’s probably not getting the proper nutrition. You know how
bachelors are when it comes to eating.”

“Good job. How is Mrs. Horton doing?”

“She’s upset about having a guard.”

Indeed, Mrs. Horton was sitting up straight
in her chair in the family room, glaring out the window. Following
her gaze among the trees that fronted the house, Carol could see
Tim sitting at one of several picnic tables in the large grassy
area between them and the gate on the road, not looking
particularly vigilant. Carol came down the two steps and gave Mrs.
Horton a hug and a kiss.