Lost Identity (11 page)

“Ah, here’s a good one.”

Instead of being eager to look at it, Trish found herself hesitating. What if the fleeting image had nothing to do with the name Perry Reynolds? Janelle put the small photo in her hand, and for a moment Trish didn’t look at it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the instant flash she’d had of the good-looking, gray-haired man remained. Very slowly she opened her eyes and looked at the picture.

Her breath caught. Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her own ears.

They were the same.
Her instant joy was followed by the stab of a searing question. Why had she remembered him?

Chapter Seven

Trish stared at the picture so long that Janelle must have thought she didn’t recognize Perry because she shoved another photo in front of her. “Maybe you remember this one? That’s you and Curtis and Perry on his boat. I took the picture when we cruised down to the Florida Keys last fall.”

Trish tried to reconcile herself with the happy smiling woman who had her arms linked with the two men’s. An air of sexy confidence in her smile was startling. She looked so poised. So sure of herself. Almost daring. Her dark hair was shorter and her face glowed from the touch of the bright sun upon it.

“That’s me,” she said thoughtfully.

“Of course it’s you,” Janelle answered in a firm tone as if surprised that Trish might even question it. “And that’s Perry and Curtis.”

Curtis looked different from the man she’d met earlier. Younger. More athletic. Dressed in white shorts and a yachting shirt. He wasn’t looking at the camera but at Trish. Her business partner, Perry, was grinning at the camera and giving a saucy salute with his free hand. A typical vacationing photo, thought Trish. And none of them seemed familiar, not even herself.

“You don’t remember the boat or anything about that trip?” Janelle asked, watching Trish’s frowning face.

“No. What about Perry’s wife? Didn’t Darlene go with us?”

“She hates sailing. Gets seasick just looking at the ocean. It’s too bad because Perry loves being on the water more than anything.”

Trish moistened her dry lips. “It’s not true what Darlene was insinuating about Perry and me, is it?”

Janelle hesitated just a fraction of a second before she said quickly, “No, of course not. Darlene is just a young jealous wife who doesn’t fit in. I don’t know why Perry married her.” Then she corrected herself. “Of course I do. Everybody does. His first wife, Dora, was a down-to-earth, plain-looking woman who didn’t quite adapt to the social status that came with Perry’s financial success. After Dora’s death a couple of years ago, along comes sexy, ambitious Darlene, only a few years older than Perry’s son, Gary. Well, you can guess the rest. Perry got himself a trophy wife, but pays the price of being married to a jealous woman in the bargain.”

“And she thinks he’s pulling some kind of trick on her?”

Janelle nodded. “She refuses to have any kind of memorial service for him. According to her, you and Perry have cooked up some scheme to drain all the money and leave her without any.”

Trish steadily met Janelle’s hazel eyes. “And what do you believe?”

“I think it’s a lot of poppycock,” she answered readily. “Why on earth would you be faking amnesia?”

“Thank you,” Trish said wearily. Trying to convince others that she couldn’t remember was an added burden to an already overpowering load.

“You let me handle Darlene,” Janelle said, setting the pictures and the album on a side table. Then she frankly eyed Trish. “Is Mr. Davis planning on moving in with you?”

“No, of course, not. I already feel guilty about all the things he’s done for me. There’s no reason to turn his life upside down, too.”

“Then I’ll stay here with you for a few days, and run interference. I can be a bear cat when the need arises—at least, that’s what the people at the office whisper behind my back.” She hesitated. “And when you feel ready to check things out at the company, just let me know.”

The thought of facing that kind of demanding inspection in a company of people she didn’t remember sent a cold prickling up her spine. She couldn’t remember anything about her role as a partner in Atlantis Enterprises. Her expression must have shown her disappointment because Janelle quickly put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

“It’s all right, Patricia—”

“Don’t call me, Patricia,” Trish said with stiff lips.

“All right,” Janelle agreed quickly. “Would you like to see the rest of the house, Trish? And catch up with Sasha?” At Trish’s frown, Janelle said, “You hired her as your housekeeper a year ago. She comes in early to fix your breakfast, does the housekeeping chores during the days and leaves after fixing dinner—if you’re eating at home,” she added, as if that wasn’t the usual case. “Don’t be afraid to ask her to do anything that will make you feel at home.”

Trish nodded, but she didn’t know what the housekeeper or anyone else could do to make her feel at “home.”

W
HEN
A
NDREW ARRIVED
later in the day, Sasha told him that Ms. Radcliffe was resting, but had left instructions that she was to be informed when he arrived.

“Would you like to wait in the small parlor?” the housekeeper asked, her large dark eyes curious as she smiled at him. Obviously, the drama of her mistress’s unexpected return had brightened up her routine life, thought Andrew.

“Yes, thank you.”

Sasha led him across the hall to a cozy room that was half the size of the living room, and furnished with a stylish upholstered sofa and chairs in a casual decor. He was surprised to see a small spinet piano placed in the corner of the room, and several original watercolors hanging on the wall. It was obvious that someone was a lover of music and art. Trish? He remembered the way she had responded to his efforts with his guitar, and he suddenly felt chagrined at the amateur level of his offerings. Was she an accomplished pianist? Had she spent as much as his yearly salary on one of these original paintings? A bigger question—why in heaven had he let himself become emotionally involved? Their lifestyles were worlds apart. He should have handled the whole situation in a sensible, detached way.

Now, she knew who she was, and even if she didn’t quite accept it at the moment, she was surrounded with people who would reinforce that identity. When he heard her footsteps in the hall, he was suddenly con
vinced that the wisest thing for him to do was to withdraw from the whole situation as speedily as possible. This conviction was reinforced when he saw her for the first time as Patricia Radcliffe, wealthy socialite, instead of a drowned waif with fear in her eyes.

Instead of the inexpensive sundress he had bought her, she wore an expensive stylish tunic and pants set in a pale yellow color. Her long hair had been shampooed and swept up in a twist, softened by wispy tendrils falling around her face. She was absolutely stunning. A choked breath caught in Andrew’s chest, and he could scarcely breathe.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, searching his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he managed, making an effort to get his emotions under control.

“I don’t know, like—like you’re looking at something you don’t like.” She smoothed the soft fabric of her narrow pants. “Janelle laid this out for me. She said it was one of my favorites.”

“Very nice,” Andrew said, forcing a smile. “You have good taste.” The minute he said it, he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

“Do I? I guess I’ll have to take yours and Janelle’s word for it. Nothing in my closet seems the least bit familiar.” Her face clouded. His forced reaction had not gone unnoticed. She’d taken the time to look her best for him, and she could tell that he didn’t feel any more comfortable with her metamorphosis than she did.

“It’ll take time to settle in,” Andrew reassured her, realizing he also needed time to get his emotions back on an even keel. All day, he’d been going over what had happened that morning. He had tried to look at
each one of the people in her life with as much of a detachment as possible, but he always ended up in the same place. He didn’t like Curtis and Darlene, and the jury was still out on Janelle and Gary. “Does anything ring a bell?” he asked.

Trish shook her head. “No. Janelle did her best to orient me, but I felt like someone taking a tour through the place. It’s strange, because when I looked over my desk, I understood what the business papers meant, but I don’t remember why. I can’t put a frame around anything, not even people. And the fear is coming back. I want to run away and hide.” She gave a feeble laugh. “Kind of childish, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with a fingertip. “Give yourself some credit.”

She stiffened against his touch. More than anything, she wanted to feel his arms around her and hear his soothing voice assuring her all of this was just a nightmare. But she knew better. The time for denial had passed.

“Can we get out of here for a little while?” she said, taking a deep breath. “I really need some space.”

“Sure. It’s a nice evening. We’ll take a walk and find some place for dinner.” He was relieved that she hadn’t expected him to stay and eat with her and Janelle. Having her all to himself for even a short time was an unexpected blessing.

“I’ll tell Sasha.” A sparkle came back in her eyes. “Janelle went back to her place to pack a few things. I’m taking her up on her offer to stay around for a few days, and help me get my bearings.” She slipped her arm through his. “I warn you, though. You may
have trouble persuading me not to run away with you.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

T
HE CLEAR SUMMER
evening was one of those cooled by a soft breeze and softened by a glow of myriad stars. As they walked arm in arm under a canopy of trees in Central Park, Andrew wondered how many times Trish had been on these very paths. Surely, living so close, the park was like her front yard.

When she hesitated in front of a fountain and bronze statue, he searched her face. Her eyes had narrowed and her mouth was slightly open in deep concentration.

He started to ask, “What is it, Trish?” but caught himself in time. He could see the sudden quickening of her breath, and the rapid movement of her chest.

I remember this place.
Recognition of the statue was like a stabbing light coming out of a hidden darkness. She knew that she had stood in that very spot before, and it was the remembered scent of a man’s cologne that was the clue to the memory. Her nostrils quivered and for a moment and her fingertips suddenly tingled as if threading the hairs of a man’s head. She put her hands over her mouth, but they still felt the bruising of a man’s lips. Her emotions were like water tumbling over a fast revolving wheel, spilling and falling in every direction. All of her senses were raw-edged and she couldn’t control any of them.

She turned and stared at Andrew until his concerned expression settled the confusion within her. Her mind raced to understand what was happening. Apparently her body remembered things that her intellect refused to acknowledge.

“What it is?” he asked, unable to control himself any longer. “Did you remember something?”

How could she explain that her senses were filled with the embrace and kiss of a man who was a complete blank in her memory? She couldn’t remember whose arms had held her, and whose lips had kissed her. Something that Dr. Duboise had said came back to her with frightening validity.
“For some reason, maybe you chose not to remember.”

“It must be true.” She looked up at Andrew with pained eyes.

“What must be true?”

“That Perry and I were having an affair. I could tell from Janelle’s behavior that she was lying to me when she quickly denied it.”

“Is that what you saw? You and Perry?” Andrew knew he shouldn’t react to anything she said without thinking it through first, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Well, not exactly. I didn’t see anything. I just felt it. He must have kissed me right here, and my senses remembered.”

“But you didn’t actually have an image of Perry standing here with you?” he prodded, and she shook her head. “Then, how do you know it was Perry who kissed you? Surely a young beautiful woman like yourself could have been kissed dozens of times in the park, maybe in this very same spot.”

He could have added that for his money, he’d bet on Curtis Mandel. Just the thought put a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe it was jealousy, or something else entirely irrational, but Andrew didn’t want it to be either Curtis or Perry. In fact, he didn’t want to think about her being in any man’s arms. Trying to believe
that she’d never felt any man’s passion showed how far he’d strayed from reality, he thought grimly.

“Maybe it wasn’t Perry,” Trish said as if she’d been given a reprieve. She didn’t want to think herself guilty of Darlene’s accusations. “Maybe everyone just thought we were more than business partners.”

“Be careful that you don’t let these people put a trip on you,” Andrew warned as they started walking again. “Even with the best intentions they could feed you a lot of pure guesses and untruths. Trust yourself and your own feelings, Trish.”

As she looked up at him, she wondered how he would react if she admitted that she’d be willing to live with him in his cottage and let the rest of the world be damned? Even as the fantasy crossed her mind, she knew there wasn’t any way they could shut out the world for very long.

They finished their walk in silence, and ate at a small Italian restaurant not far from her apartment. Trish lingered over her coffee and dessert as long as possible. She hated to think about going back to her place almost as much as she had been reluctant to return to Havengate. She felt suspended between two worlds—the known and the unknown—and neither of them were to her liking.

“Will you be back in the city tomorrow?” she asked hopefully as they entered the foyer and walked toward the elevators. She had asked Andrew not to come up to the apartment with her because she knew she’d make excuses for him to stay as long as possible.

“I wish I could,” he said honestly. “But I have some programs that I have to finish before the end of the week. I’ve fallen behind on my deadlines and the boss is kinda breathing down my neck.”