In the Dead of the Night (20 page)

The ladies stood on a golden sandy beach, both wearing
bikinis, and smiling like they had won the million dollar lottery. Behind them was some kind of lodging, and pine trees surrounded the facility. Allan glanced over her shoulder to get a look at the photo, but she handed it to Roxie out of his view. No way did she want him to get a look at Roxie’s cute little figure in a bright pink bikini.

Jenny’s brows rose.
“My hair is red-blond? I envisioned something darker.”

Roxie said, “Well, sure.
That’s what it must have been before you dyed it black.”

“No.”
Jenny shook her head. “It was some brown.”

“Ladies,” Allan interrupted.
“Can you talk about some past memories?”

Jenny frowned at him.
“He’s the bossiest one of them all. Are the ones with you that bossy?”

“They say you ran away.”
Roxie reached out and took Jenny’s hand in hers. “They said you thought they were Wilson’s men. You can’t do that again, Jenny. They’re here to protect you.”

“Yeah, but one of them told me it was all a lie.”

Allan’s mouth dropped open as he furrowed his brow. “Who, Jenny? Which one of us said that?”

What if Randy Stevens was the good guy?
If she told these men, then his life would be forfeit. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him around lately.

She folded her arms.
“He said you hit me in my bedroom. How would I know if you did or not? Just because you said you didn’t, well, why should I believe you?”

“Who was the man, Jenny?”

“He told me you wouldn’t make love to me even though you said we were married because Wilson would kill you. That you were to take me to him after you married me, once you had control of my money.”

Allan looked at Dale.

Dale shook his head and pulled the phone off his belt. “I don’t know. He had to have talked to her sometime in between the time she said she’d marry you and when she took her shower. Puts a whole new bite in the cookie.”

Allan’s voice turned cold as he faced Jenny.
“He’d gotten in through the bathroom window? When you were taking a shower?”

Jenny looked down at her lap.
If she told them what had happened, would Allan want to kill Randy? She imagined he would as much as he hated the man for making a play for his wife, Millie.

Dale punched buttons on his phone.
“Hey, Boss, newsflash. One of our own agents was the reason for the lady running. Yeah. She won’t tell us.” He smiled. “Yeah, let you know as soon as we figure out who it is.”

Allan crossed the floor and took Jenny’s other hand in his.
“This is serious. If he’s a terrorist posing as an agent, we have to know this.”

“What if he’s the good guy?”
She glanced at the agents who came with Roxie. Neither looked amused. “How do I know that Roxie’s my girlfriend even?” She was serious. She didn’t know her any more than she knew Allan or any of the others before they barged into her life.

She looked at Roxie whose eyes filled with tears.
Jenny reached over and patted her leg, feeling badly that she’d upset the woman who’d been her friend forever, or so everyone said. “I’m sorry, Roxie. I just can’t remember anything. I have to rely on everyone else to fill me in on my life. How do I know what’s real and what isn’t?”

“We got in trouble once in kindergarten for playing on a school bus during recess.
Our parents got called about it. The teacher couldn’t find us and was ready to call search and rescue.”

Jenny tried to remember, but the memory wasn’t there.
She shook her head.

“You wer
e engaged to John Ransom. Then he took off with Betsy Macomb. Do you remember?”

Now that seemed vaguely familiar.
“Did he have long blond hair?”

She shook her head.
“No. He was in the military. Short cropped brown hair.”

Jenny frowned.
Someone had blond hair. She remembered running her fingers through his hair. It felt soft.

“What are you remembering, Jenny?” Allan asked.

“Were his eyes blue?”

Roxie shook her head.
“No, dark brown. You like dark-haired and dark-eyed men, normally.”

Jenny looked at Allan.
Like him. No wonder he appealed so much to her. His mouth turned up slightly as his eyes darkened. Yeah, he was certainly pleased with the notion.

“Who had blond hair and blue eyes?” Allan asked.

Jenny turned to Roxie. “Did you ever see me with Wilson?”

“No.
Well, yes, a glimpse once. Come to think of it, he did have blond hair tied back in a ponytail. But I couldn’t swear to his eye color. He was too far away.”

“He wears colored contact lenses, different colors to suit the occasion,” Allan interjected.

She realized at once she was remembering the bastard. “His hair was soft. I remember that.” She looked at Allan. His face was hard. She was certain he didn’t like hearing how she’d been intimate with the terrorist. All at once she felt unworthy to be among the agents who served the public in a worthwhile capacity, while she’d slept with the enemy. Her face heated as she wrung her hands. She faced Roxie. “Tell me some more.”

“The psychologist told me to tell you about difficult times in your life.
That sometimes these things can help trigger a memory, more than just pleasant things.”

“Maybe the men ought to leave us alone.”
Jenny folded her arms again and glared at Allan. “I need to get my memories back, but they don’t necessarily have to be revealed to all of you.”

“After you took off like you did, and the fact you’re still teetering on the edge about whether we’re Wilson’s men or A.T
.A. agents, we’ll remain here,” Allan said.

“I told you he was
the bossy one,” Jenny said.

Roxie said, “Your uncle died when you were five.
But he amassed a fortune and left it all to your aunt. She had a son, Roy, spoiled rotten. Anyway, he was five years older than you. When you were fifteen he tried to sexually molest you. He served in the Marines and died in the last conflict. So when your aunt—”

“Roy.”

“Yes.”

“He was blond and blue eyed.
Would he be the one I was thinking of?”

“No.
He always wore his hair really short. He’d been in the Marines since he was 17. But when he came home on leave, he…” Roxie looked down at her hands as she wrung them in her lap.

Jenny stared at her, trying to conjure up what happened.
But she couldn’t envision the scenario. “I don’t remember. What happened?”

Roxie looked at her, her eyes tearful.
“You were home alone. I was joining you later so we could study for a history test. Roy had come home on leave to see his mother, your aunt. But she was at a lady friend’s house. So he dropped by your house, two doors down. He’d torn all the buttons off your blouse and had your skirt hiked up when I arrived. You didn’t speak for weeks after that. The whole thing was hushed up. Nobody wanted a family scandal.”

Jenny couldn’t look at anybody in the room.
Was she the reason for Roy behaving like he did? Was it her fault? She hoped that there wasn’t anything else in her life that had been so horrible. Then she figured there was. Being with that scum Wilson.

But she sure as hell ha
dn’t wanted all these men to know about her family life. It wasn’t any of their business, and she’d probably gotten over the pain years ago.

She looked at Roxie.
“Did I have psychological counseling?”

“Yes.
We both did. You didn’t speak for weeks, Jenny. You had to have help. And I was pretty disturbed about the whole thing, seeing my best friend nearly raped by her cousin, no less.”

Agent Friston cleared his throat.
“We need to go, Miss Adams.”

Roxie stood and Jenny tried to rise from the couch, but didn’t have the strength to stand.
Allan gave her a hand, and when she stood, she hugged Roxie. “We’ll get Wilson, Roxie, and we’ll be back to our normal lifestyles, whatever that was.”

“Friday, movie nights.
Saturday, strawberry margaritas. Humpday, game night.”

Jenny smiled.
“Sounds like fun.”

“It is.”
Roxie squeezed her tightly, then wiped away the tears. “Don’t run away again. These are the good guys. I’ll pray you get your memories back soon.”

She kissed her cheek, then hurried out of the condo with Friston and Brown.

Jenny made her way to the bedroom. She turned to the sound of footsteps following her.
Allan
. She furrowed her brow at him, then headed into the room.

“You’re not going to
be left alone at any time. Not only that, but you haven’t told us who the agent was who wanted to take you to Wilson.”

“You’ll kill him.”

Standing before the bed, she pulled off the baggy running pants. The T-shirt she wore still rested mid-thigh. She would be glad to get into some of her clothes that fit better. She pulled the covers aside, then slipped underneath them. After lifting them to her chin, she yanked the shirt off and threw it on the floor. “I don’t wear street clothes to bed.”

Allan folded his arms.
“Who was the agent?”

“The man you hate most.”

Allan’s eyes widened. “Randy Stevens? You must be mistaken.”

Jenny glared at him.
“I may have had soap in my eyes when he grabbed me in the shower, but I did see him, and he spoke to me for several minutes before he let me go and disappeared.”

“Shit!”
Allan stormed out of the bedroom. “Dale, tell the boss it was Randy Stevens.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.
”

“Nope.”

Jenny closed her eyes, but the next thing she knew, someone sat on the bed next to her. Her eyes popped open.

Allan had closed the door to the room and sat close to her, their hips touching.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Jenny. I’ve never wanted to hurt you, yet it seems it’s all I’m able to do while trying to catch this bastard.”

“You’re just doing your job, Allan.”
She closed her eyes again. The sedative hadn’t worn off, and she was still drowsy.

“Did Stevens say anything else to you?
About me or about you and me?”

She opened her eyes.
“Allan, I guess I know you’re a pretty honorable guy. But he just put doubts in my mind. That’s all. I mean, it’s easy to do when I can’t remember anything. Then you seemed to want me like I wanted you, but wouldn’t follow through. I got to thinking maybe he was right. Yet, something told me not to trust him either. But you know, he’s a pretty persuasive guy.”

“What was his plan?”

“I was to walk with him along the beach tonight. He brought some clothes for me to wear. They’re on the bathroom counter. He said they weren’t bugged.”

“
That’s how you knew your clothes were bugged.”

She smiled.
“Yes. I’m really not a spy guru or anything.”

He rose from the bed, crossed the floor to the bathroom, and grabbed the clothes off the counter.
Then with just as quick a stride, he left the bedroom.

She didn’t hear him say anything to the other agents in the living area, but footsteps quickly headed for the front door of the condo.
The door opened and slammed shut.

Allan
immediately returned to the room empty-handed. He shut the door again and sat down on the bed. “So he said I hit you?”

“Yes.”

Allan ran his fingers over her hair. “How would he know if he never made it to the house?”

“I never thought of that.”

“What else?”

“Just that you’d marry me and turn the money over to Wilson.”

“If I were a thug, why would I give up all that money?”

She pulled her arm out of her covers, careful not to expose herself, and slugged him in the shoulder.
“What about giving
me
up?”

“Well you, too.”
His beguiling grin sent a slice of heat straight to her belly.

“Promise me you won’t give me another damned sedative.”

“Not if you won’t mind me.”

She closed her eyes, annoyed and incredibly tired.

“You shouldn’t be in bed naked. Not with us trying to do our job and keep you safe.”

“Then buy me a nightie.”

“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known.”

She smiled.

His lips pressed against hers, warm and loving.

Opening her eyes, she
tilted her chin down. “What do you think you’re doing, Allan Thompson? I’m heavily sedated, naked, and in no condition to fight off your amorous advances.”