The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue (12 page)

“I must have been eight or something at the time. I still remember, though. Francois’s parents later filed a formal complaint against dad. Claiming abuse. Nothing ever came of it, of course. Young Vartier was caught stealing, after all. Dad could have filed a complaint against him if he’d wanted to.”

Suddenly, Valerie cried out. He followed her gaze to another picture. “Who is that woman? I-I recognize her.”

Jack and Magali shared a look of concern.

“Why that’s Mrs Carter. Jack’s mother.” Magali quickly genuflected. “She died ten years ago, God rest her soul.”

I stared up at the picture of the beautiful woman displayed on Jack’s kitchen wall. A wild tumble of red curls cascaded down her back, her green eyes fixed on whoever had snapped the shot, a burgundy scarf tightened around her neck and two little boys playing at her feet.

“That’s Jack, and that’s his big brother Frank,” Magali pointed out. She’d taken down the frame from the wall and laid it in front of me for a closer look.

“She’s beautiful,” I said, focusing on the woman and ignoring the two boys, whose mischievous grins spelled trouble.

I looked up and met Jack’s eyes. He peered at me with a mixture of sadness and pride. It was obvious he’d loved his mother very much.

“What is it about her you recognize, darling?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that... the moment I saw the picture, something clicked inside my head. As if I’ve seen her before somewhere.”

“You might have. Francine Bruniau was an accomplished violinist. She performed on stages all across Europe before finally settling down in Paris. Perhaps you attended one of her concerts?”

“She must have made quite an impression, if you remember in spite of your amnesia.” Jack was staring down at the picture fondly.

A violinist... “Perhaps if I would hear her play?”

Jack coughed. “We... that is to say, my dad had all her recordings removed from the house the day she died. It reminded him—us—too much of her.”

“You see,” explained Magali, “the music of Mrs Carter brought so much joy to so many people, and Mr Carter intended it to stay that way. Each time he’d listen to her play, it brought sadness to his heart. So he decided that rather than remember her in sadness, he would remember her with joy. But without the music.”

“I...” Jack directed a quick look at Magali as he rose to his feet. “I still have one of her recordings. Got it a couple of years ago. Dad doesn’t know.”

While Jack disappeared into the living room, in search of the recording, Magali gave me a wistful smile. “That boy loved his mother so much. You simply can’t imagine. In fact it’s a miracle he’s turned into such a fine young man. At one point, we all thought the loss would wreck him.”

Jack returned with an iPad, and laid it on the table in front of me. “She’s not on YouTube, for some strange reason. I suspect dad managed to not only remove her recordings from his own home, but from all homes.”

Magali tsk-tsked again. “The nerve of that man. Why would he deny the world the pleasure of listening to Mrs Carter’s talents?”

“Listen,” whispered Jack, and pressed play.

Soft strands of classical music drifted from the tablet’s speaker and filled the kitchen. I didn’t recognize the music, but somehow it sounded familiar. As the music went crescendo, I felt the familiar sensation of prickly tears stinging my eyes. As I stared at the image of the red-haired woman and listened to the sound of her unmistakable talent, I started to sob uncontrollably while Rufus emitted a soft whine. The dog didn’t seem to like the music all that much.

Jack slung his arms around me, and rocked me like a child.

I felt embarrassed to be reduced to tears simply from listening to the music of a woman I’d never known.

And as the song concluded, the questions marks in my head simply grew in number, until they threatened to dissolve me into oblivion.

“Who am I?” I asked of no one in particular. “Who the hell am I?”

Magali drew herself up. “Whoever you are, you need fattening up. You’re positively starved, dear!”

Through my tears, I laughed. “Fattening up? What am I, a turkey?”

“Not a turkey. A fine young lady, and if I have a say in it, you’ll get the nourishment you need right here.”

I glanced over at Jack. “I... don’t know how long I’ll be staying, so...”

“You can stay as long as you want,” Jack assured me.

Magali eyed me brightly. “See? Three square meals a day is what you need, and three square meals is what you’ll get, or my name isn’t Magali Contretoire.”

I smiled at the hospitality of Jack’s housekeeper, and turned to thank her employer for the extended invitation.

“You heard. You want fattening up and fattening up is what you’ll get.”

In response, I stuck out my tongue at him, but he merely grinned.

Magali, looking from me to Jack, displayed proper discretion by announcing that if we needed her, she’d be upstairs taking care of some unfinished business, and retreated.

The violin music still hung in the air, filling the kitchen with its cheerful melody. But no matter how uplifting it was, I couldn’t help but feel sad at the thought I might one day have attended one of Jack’s mother’s concerts and was unable to remember.

I suddenly turned serious, and rested my head on the table. “Do you think I’ll ever remember, Jack? Do you think I’ll ever know about my life?”

He walked round the table and knelt down beside me so his face was level with mine. Like me, he’d grown solemn. “Deep down inside of you, something knows everything that has ever happened to you. And one day it will all be revealed to you. Like a rush of water or a gust of wind, all your memories will come flooding back into your mind.”

“Do you promise me?”

He trailed a finger along my cheek, then my lips. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I promise.” Then he leaned in, and brushed my lips with his, his hands framing my face.

Softly, tenderly, he stirred the deepest core of me, and the touch of his lips mingled with the ageless sound of the violin until my mind drifted off into nothingness, carried on the song of our hearts, beating as one.

My Jack.

My love.

Jacques returned that afternoon, bringing tidings of joy. He’d found the man who had attacked Jack and accosted Magali in the street last night.

His name was Rainer and he was a painter of sorts. It hadn’t taken the police long to make the connection between the duo they’d caught breaking into Jack’s house and this Rainer character. Apparently he was a cousin of Seth, husband of the dragon lady.

“We have him in custody now,” assured Jacques. “And as expected, he sang like a canary once we started leaning on him.”

They were seated in Jack’s living room, just the three of them: Jack, Valerie and the police officer. Magali had taken Rufus for a walk and wouldn’t be back for at least an hour, having some errands to run.

Valerie’s eyes were wide with anticipation, and Jack, too, felt the thrill of finally seeing this puzzle solved.

“So? What did he say? Who am I? Why did they kidnap me?”

Jacques’s expression was grave. “Are you ready for this, Valerie?”

Before Valerie started screaming, Jack interjected, “I think we’re both quite ready, buddy. So spill.”

“You might not like it,” the policeman grumbled as he took out his notebook. “First off, they kidnapped you not for the money, but for revenge.”

“Revenge? Why? How? Who!”

“Perhaps if you just let Jacques finish the story, honey...”

Valerie motioned locking her mouth with a key and throwing it away, and Jacques resumed his narrative.

“Apparently, though I don’t know how much credence we should attach to the man’s words, your father once did something against this Seth character’s father, and abducting you seemed like the appropriate response. An eye for an eye and all that jazz. Only thing is, even though Rainer is the cousin of the perpetrator of this foul plot, apparently they didn’t trust him enough to divulge the extent of it.”

Valerie, in spite of her promise to remain quiet, let out a groan of annoyance. “He doesn’t know?”

“Well, he knows it’s not about the money, and he knows that your father is some hotshot in the banking world.” He tapped his notebook. “And, more importantly, he also knows that your real name isn’t Valerie Lorgnasse at all.”

“What!”

Jacques grinned at both Jack’s and Valerie’s consternation. “The plot thickens,
hein
? Valerie Lorgnasse is the name you give yourself, but it’s not your real name.” He tapped his little notebook. “Unfortunately, he couldn’t be more clear about that point, because he found it all very confusing as well, and when he asked Linda Soakes—alias Jeannine Müller—for clarification, she bluntly refused. Saying he was a dumb-ass and an idiot and yadda yadda yadda.” He barked a curt laugh. “Seems he was subjected to so much abuse that he finally cracked under the strain and decided enough was enough. All he wants to do is paint, and kidnapping people was starting to come between him and his art. Allegedly.”

“Come on!” cried Valerie, balling her hands into fists and looking for something—or someone—to hit. “This can’t be happening! So my name isn’t Valerie Lorgnasse? Then what is it?”

“At least this explains why it didn’t ring a bell,” offered Jack.

Valerie eyed him intently. “My dad is a rich banker. Perhaps your dad knows him? Perhaps...” Her face cleared. “Perhaps your dad knows me!”

The idea hadn’t occurred to Jack. “Perhaps he does. Dad knows an awful lot of people in the world of finance.”

Jacques closed his notebook. “But does he know all his colleagues’ daughters? That’s the question.”

“Perhaps he does. Perhaps we met at some function.”

“But if that were the case, wouldn’t Jack have met you as well? He travels in the same circles, don’t you, Jack?”

Jack gave this some thought. “I’ve been relegated to the Belgian branch for going on a decade now. I’m probably on a first name basis with all the Belgian bankers, but in France? I hardly know a soul, except for the people who used to come to our house when I was a boy. And even those I wouldn’t remember even if I saw them again.” He drummed his fingers on the mahogany table. “No, Valerie is right. If her father is a prominent banker, my father must know him.”

“That’s it, then. Your father is arriving tonight. Perhaps all will finally be revealed. He’ll know me, he’ll lead me to my dad, and we all live happily ever after.”

Both Jack and the police officer couldn’t suppress a smile at her girlish enthusiasm.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up, if I were you, young lady,” stated Jacques as he got up from the table. “In the meantime, I’ll keep plugging away at this case with my customary aplomb, and perhaps this elusive happy end will finally become a reality before long.”

“I have a good feeling about this, Jack,” said Valerie after their policeman friend had said his goodbyes. “I really think your father might be the clue to this mystery.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Jack diplomatically.

He’d never known his old man to be the answer to anyone’s hopes and dreams, but he was willing to grant him the benefit of the doubt for Valerie’s sake. And in fact he did hope that they’d finally discover the truth behind this persistent mystery that had taken over his life for the past two days now.

One thing he did know, was that he’d grown to love this woman, and that even if they finally discovered the truth behind her identity, he simply couldn’t imagine being apart from her again.

He gently took her hand in his and placed a tender kiss on it.

“What was that for?” she asked softly.

“Just... for no reason.” Then, amending, he added, “I like you, Valerie Lorgnasse. Or Melanie Harper. Or whatever your name will turn out to be. I’ve grown extremely fond of you these last few days, and I just wanted you to know I’m glad—I know this might sound weird—I’m glad all this happened.”

She eyed his skeptically. “You’re glad I was kidnapped?”

“Glad because otherwise we might never have met. And now that we did...” Usually a smooth talker, Jack suddenly found himself drowning in a quagmire of ill-expressed sentiments. “I mean...”

She gave him a lovely smile. “I know, Jack. I feel the same way about you.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment, being irrevocably drawn to each other. Jack longed to feel her lips on his again, her body wrapped around him like it had in the shower that morning. He hadn’t dared suggest they make love again. Not with Magali pottering about in the house, and the cleaning lady coming in to help her deal with the upstairs.

But the longing was so strong, he’d almost given into it, Magali and the other members of the staff be damned. But then Jacques had called, and now here they were, pining for each other and unable to do anything about it.

Before they had the chance to scratch that itch, Magali entered the living room, and in that same moment, the doorbell rang, announcing yet another visitor.

Christ, Jack thought darkly. Just when he wanted to be alone with Valerie, his house was turning into a veritable beehive all of a sudden.

Ten seconds later his father strode into the room, looking cold and imperious as always. The moment he laid eyes on Valerie, his eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. Shooting out an indignant finger, he thundered, “What he hell is
she
doing here!”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. The sight of Jack Carter Sr had stirred a memory. It seemed to linger at the edge of my mind, and the frustration of not being able to grab hold of it added to my annoyance.

He was an imposing man, big and strong, with a full head of gray hair and piercing blue eyes set in a fleshy face. I could see where Jack had gotten his good looks from, though his father had put on quite a few pounds over the years, undoing some of mother nature’s blessings.

“Have we met?”

“Of course we have!” cried the irate old man. “Don’t stand there pretending that we haven’t. Why, the sheer nerve!”

“Dad, dad! Valerie is the woman I told you about. She lost her memory? So I suggest you go easy on her, all right?”