Forgotten Lullaby (9 page)

Grant gripped the arm of the chair, stunned. “But Emma's known Dan since high school. She never mentioned it.”

“He was arrested for selling stolen goods a year ago, but the charges didn't stick.” Warner scratched his
balding head. “No charges for violence or assault, though.”

Warner stepped into the alcove, his voice hushed, his gaze scanning the outer premises. “Have you considered taking your wife away for a while?”

“I thought about it, but the doctor thinks being home might jog her memory,” Grant said. “I'm installing a security system as soon as possible.”

“Good idea, Mr. Wadsworth. And you might want to get an unlisted number, too. Just to be on the safe side.”

Warner glanced at Kate. “You're Mrs. Wadsworth's sister, right?”

“Yes.”

“Ma'am, you and your sister get along all right?”

Kate's eyes narrowed. “Of course we do. What are you implying?”

Warner chewed his cheek. “Nothing, ma'am. Just doing my job. I need to account for everybody's whereabouts the night of the wreck.” He looked almost apologetic. “Can you tell me where you were about ten o'clock that night?”

Kate's mouth tightened. “I was at my apartment.”

“Can someone verify your story?” Warner asked.

“No, I'm afraid not. I'd just come home from a trip and I was tired, so I turned in early.” She glanced hastily at Grant. “I was asleep when Grant called me from the hospital. You know, Grant, you woke me up.”

“That's right,” Grant said.

Warner nodded. “I've been checking your list. So far, your boss, Carl Rodgers, and your housekeeper, Martha Greer, have alibis. Mrs. Greer spent the evening with her daughter. Got her daughter's message machine, but she's out of town right now, so we'll check with
her in a couple of days.” Warner ran his thumb down the names on his notepad. “Still need to talk with the people you work with, particularly Priscilla Weston and Pete Landers.”

Grant told Warner about their trip to Paris as he walked Warner to the door. “Mr. Wadsworth, I hate to ask you this again, but it's important I know. Were you and your wife having marital problems? Were you having an affair?”

“I told you no,” Grant said. “I love my wife.”

Warner studied his boots for a long minute. “Could Mrs. Wadsworth have been seeing someone?” He paused. “Say, maybe her boss?”

Fury streaked through Grant. “No, I don't think so,” he said between clenched teeth.

“That's ridiculous,” Kate added. “Emma would never be unfaithful.”

Warner stared at them. “Then your wife might have stumbled onto some illegal business while she worked with him. McGuire might have tried to kill her to keep her quiet. I'll check it out.”

“I hope you make it fast,” Grant said. “I don't want anything else to happen to Emma.”

Emma tried to relax on the sofa while Carly cooed and batted her hands from her baby swing, obviously enthralled by the soft litany of children's music floating from the CD player. But Grant was making arrangements for a security system to be installed, a reminder of the horrible threats on her life. And since coming home hadn't triggered her memory, she wondered again if she should stay at Kate's.

Only, Kate's constant worrying was driving her crazy. In addition, her sister had made male-bashing her favorite pastime. Had Kate always disliked men so much? Or was her animosity for the opposite sex due to her recent divorce? And if Kate thought Emma and Grant had a good marriage, why did she seem hostile toward him?

Emma bit her lip in frustration, the trauma of the last few days taking its toll. She thumbed through one of the photo albums of Carly. She seemed like a happy well-adjusted baby. Would Emma's amnesia affect her child adversely?

Shortly after the detective left, Kate decided to run some errands. Martha Greer had arrived with a homemade pound cake in one hand and a dust rag in the
other. Although Emma didn't remember the older woman, Carly seemed to adore her, so Emma assumed she must have liked her, too.

“Hi there, precious,” Martha said to Carly as she dusted the coffee table. “You getting your exercise this afternoon?”

Carly gurgled as she bicycled her legs, her pudgy cheeks glowing pink, and Emma's heart contracted.

“How about you, Mrs. Wadsworth? You feeling all right?”

“A little tired, but I'm okay,” Emma said, resting her leg on a pillow. “And please, call me Emma.”

“Okay, dear. Now you let me know if I can do anything for you while I'm here.” Martha stuffed her dust rag into her apron pocket and straightened the magazines on the table. “Mr. Wadsworth asked me to come every morning for a while to help out. Is that all right with you?”

“If it fits with your schedule,” Emma agreed. “With Carly here, I'll feel more comfortable having some help, that is, if it's not too much work for you.”

“Mercy, no.” Martha grabbed Carly's finger and wiggled it. “I don't clean the jewelry store till the evening after it's closed.”

“Grant said that's where we met. I don't recall working there. Did you baby-sit for us before?”

“Every now and then.” Martha smiled and tickled Carly under the chin. Carly giggled and swung her legs playfully. “This little angel makes my day. I don't mind sitting with her while you nap, either.”

Emma propped herself up, grateful she and Grant had chosen such a loving woman to help out. “Do you have any children or grandchildren of your own, Martha?”

“I have a beautiful daughter,” Martha said, a distant
expression in her hazel eyes. “She's about your age now, pretty and sweet as a picture.”

“Spoken like a true mother,” Emma said with a laugh.

“We talked about her last time I saw you. She's gonna have a baby soon herself.” Martha's gray eyebrows creased together. “They say you have amnesia? You really don't remember anything?”

Emma pulled at a loose thread on the afghan beside her. “No, I'm afraid not.”

“That's a shame.” Martha shook her head. “Must be awful to forget your own family.”

“It is,” Emma said, shifting restlessly.

Carly whimpered and Martha made a silly face at her, momentarily pacifying her. “My girl married and moved to Atlanta, has a fancy big house in Buckhead, got herself a nice-paying job in one of those executive offices. Her bosses think the world of her.”

“Atlanta's not too far,” Emma commented. “Do you visit her often?”

“Not as often as I'd like. 'Course, you don't know what that's like now, but one day you will.” She jiggled Carly's nose, bringing another giggle from the baby. “Seems like one day you're holding your baby in your arms, and the next day they're grown up and gone. Time just flies.”

A wave of nostalgia hit Emma. She already wondered where the time had gone. She'd missed the first few months of Carly's life.

 

T
IME DRAGGED BY
. Knowing Martha was taking care of Emma and Carly gave Grant enough peace of mind to actually work at home for a few minutes, but every second he spent in limbo, not knowing if Emma would
ever remember him, seemed like an excruciating eternity.

After Warner left, Grant had arranged for a security system to be installed. Then Priscilla called from Paris. She and Pete had plans to have drinks with the president of Comp. Link that night. Grant should be ecstatic, but he felt edgy and tense, wondering if Pete would represent
his
ideas effectively. Would Pete give Grant the credit or steal it to further his own career?

Forcing his mind back to his work, Grant drew up a projected schedule for the new building project he'd been assigned on the outskirts of Raleigh. The complex would provide office space for more than five thousand people and include recreational facilities, food courts, a day-care center and a three-acre park.

At least working had momentarily distracted him from the Paris deal and his family problems, he thought as he finished the draft. But Emma never strayed far from his mind. And neither did the threat to her life.

The doorbell dinged and he checked the peephole. Emma's former boss, Dan McGuire, stood on the porch stoop.

“Hi, I came to see Emma,” McGuire said in a thick voice.

Grant instantly recalled the detective's suspicions about McGuire and the fact that he and Emma had dated in high school. “What do you want?”

McGuire's tanned face blushed against his white-blond hair. “I brought her a get-well gift.”

Grant's gaze flew to the package in the man's hands. He'd always thought McGuire was an okay guy, the bodybuilder type that some women liked. Did a violent criminal mind lurk behind his innocent-charmer act?

“Is she available?” McGuire asked. “'Cause we
miss her at the store and I wanted to tell her we're all thinking about her.”

“She's in here,” Grant said, gesturing toward the den. Martha waved from the hallway, cradling Carly in her arms.

“Hey, Ms. Martha. How're you doing?” McGuire asked.

“Fine, Dan. I'll be over at the store around six to clean. I'm going to give this little one a bath.”

McGuire nodded and Martha went into the nursery. McGuire followed Grant, ducking his head and fiddling nervously with the package in his hand.

Emma's eyes widened when she saw her former boss and classmate approaching. Grant chewed the inside of his cheek at the bright smile she offered him. Emma remembered Dan, but not him. He hadn't thought about how much that would hurt, but it did.

Kate suddenly bustled in with a bag of groceries, narrowing her eyes at McGuire. Did Kate know something about McGuire she hadn't told him? Or was she being her normally cynical self?

“Hey, there, Emma, Kate.” McGuire's wide grin surprised him, made Grant wonder if McGuire had been interested in more than a working relationship with Emma. She'd mentioned going back to work right before her accident, but he'd passed it off as just a whim. Maybe…

“I heard about your accident, Emma, and wanted you to know how sorry I am.” McGuire shrugged. “So I brought you something. I hope you like it.”

Emma smiled hesitantly. “Thanks, Dan, that's so sweet. I'm sorry I don't remember working for you.”

McGuire handed Emma the box, and Grant rubbed his chin with a finger, studying the man. Kate left the
groceries in the kitchen, then returned, perching on the sofa beside Emma like a protective mother hen, irritating Grant more.

Emma's fingers trembled as she ripped the gold wrapping paper. Grant eased over beside her and watched as she lifted the lid off the little white box.

“Oh, my,” Emma whispered.

“It's beautiful.” Kate glanced up at McGuire with a touch of admiration. “I've never seen a piece like this. It must be early eighteenth century.”

“It just arrived,” Dan said. “I bought it from an estate in England.”

Grant clenched his jaw as Emma removed the delicate antique heart-shaped necklace from the box. Suspicions fueled his quick temper. “Why did you choose a locket, McGuire?”

McGuire ran a hand through his short wavy hair. “Kate told me Emma lost hers in the accident, so when this one arrived, I thought Emma might like it as a replacement.”

Kate's startled gaze shot to Grant's. “I didn't know I wasn't supposed to tell him. You seemed so upset about the necklace, Grant, I asked Dan if he had something similar to replace it.”

“This is really sweet, Dan,” Emma said. “And there's no harm done, Grant. The necklace is lovely.” Emma opened the clasp and gestured for Kate to fasten it around her neck. “I'll find a picture to put in it right away.”

Grant's breath whistled out between his teeth. He couldn't help but wonder if there was more to McGuire's motives than he was letting on. And if he and Emma had been involved, Emma wouldn't remember,
but McGuire would. “I would have replaced the necklace,” Grant grated out.

Emma and Kate both looked at him with puzzled expressions. He hadn't shared the detective's information about McGuire with them yet, so they had no idea what he was thinking, that perhaps McGuire already knew about the locket before he talked to Kate, that he could be the one who'd run Emma off the road and taken it. And now McGuire was pretending to be nice to her to get close to her, so he could… No, Grant could hardly bear to think it.

McGuire's nice-guy act just didn't cut it—he didn't trust the man for a minute. And he'd be sure to caution Emma as soon as McGuire left.

 

E
MMA TRIED TO SHAKE OFF
the tension pervading the room as Grant escorted her former boss to the door. Why had Grant acted so uptight around Dan? Dan had always been such a sweet guy, even back in high school. She was certain she had enjoyed working for him. Was Grant jealous of Dan? And if he was, why? Had she given him some reason?

Did they have marital problems? How had their love life been before the wreck? Did Grant enjoy making love to her? Was he missing it? Did
she
enjoy it?

She must, she thought, her fingernails curling around the afghan. Because every time he walked through the door and his blue eyes searched her face, she thought about being close to him. What it would be like to be loved by him. To be possessed by the heat in his body and the passion in his eyes.

Kate brought a tray of tea and snacks to the table, and Grant came in with a scowl on his face, his tall
sexy form appearing in the doorway. “I need to talk to you about McGuire.”

“What is it?” Emma asked.

Grant's eyes grew shuttered as he walked over and sat down beside Emma. Her nerves tingled with anxiety at his forced calmness, and when his leg brushed hers, a feeling of sexual awareness settled in the pit of her stomach. Jealous or not, this man radiated an enticing aura of masculinity. Then he gently covered her hand with his, and the warmth from his fingers sent desire pulsing through her. Stranger or husband, friend or lover, his gaze was almost hypnotic.

Making love with him would probably be powerful.

“Warner told me that McGuire has a prior arrest record.”

Emma swallowed, unable to fathom Dan involved in any criminal activities.

“What were the charges?” Kate asked.

“Selling stolen goods,” Grant answered. “The detective's still checking into him.”

“Was he convicted?” Emma asked.

“No. But who knows what happened.” Grant shrugged. “The guy could have bought his way out or gotten off on some technicality. Happens all the time.”

“Or he might be innocent,” Emma said quietly.

Grant's slight scowl made her uneasy, but his voice remained level when he spoke. “You're always so trusting,” he said gently. He brought his hand up and rubbed a strand of her hair between his fingers. Goose bumps shimmied up her arms. “But you can't trust anyone, Emma.”

Including you?
She bit back the words, afraid to ask. His look was dark, dangerous, protective. Predatory.

There were lots of ways to be afraid, she decided.
And she was definitely afraid of Grant Wadsworth. Afraid of never remembering him. Afraid of the way he made her feel.

Afraid she'd fall into bed with him in total abandon, even though he was a stranger.

 

G
RANT TRIED TO IGNORE
the momentary look of desire sizzling in Emma's eyes. She was vulnerable and scared. She didn't remember him as her husband. And the look had only been fleeting.

But he wanted her, anyway.

He hadn't meant to make Emma more nervous than she already was by telling her about McGuire, but she wanted him to be honest, and he'd never forgive himself if he hadn't warned her about Dan's past.

He'd failed to keep her safe once. What if he let her down again?

“I'm about to serve dinner,” Kate announced. “Grant, will you put Carly in her playpen while we eat?”

“Sure,” Grant was tired of Kate ordering him around in his own home, but he didn't want to upset Emma's fragile state by making waves with her sister. He gently reached for Carly, giving Emma a heartfelt smile. She pressed a kiss on Carly's cheek and a streak of tenderness swept past his anger toward Kate.

“She looks so content in your arms,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“She's precious.” Emma's dark eyes searched his face for reassurance. “She doesn't really understand what's going on, does she?”

“I don't think so,” he said, hoping to alleviate a little of her worry. “She knows you, though, Emma.” He cradled Carly in his arms, tucking the soft blanket
around her tiny feet, then gazed lovingly at Emma. “She knows your smell, your touch, your gentle voice.”
Just like I do.