The Dark Side of the Rainbow (25 page)

“We’ll call the authorities, who will take him into custody.” Landon reached into his briefcase and removed a file. “I hired a private investigator to look into Javier’s private life, to see if there are any outlying reasons why he might be stealing funds.” He handed Tomas a dossier on the general manager. “I got this late yesterday after you had already left.”

The vice president opened the report and began reading the information. “Interesting,” he murmured. “We might want to check the guest registry to see how often our clientele visit the Lake House.”

Landon looked at Brooke to explain. “Javier has a mistress. Chances are she has stayed at the hotel quite often. It’s doubtful she would have used her real name, or that she paid for the use of the rooms. This would be another piece of evidence that could be used against him. It also speaks to his character. Whether he has stolen from us or not, I feel sorry for his wife Celia and their two children. I would have rather not known about this part of Javier; I thought he was a better man.”

It would be the worst kind of betrayal. Visions of Landon in the embrace of another woman’s arms caused Brooke’s stomach to tighten. She may not be married to him, but her heart was irrevocably entangled; the idea of him being with someone else was impossible to accept.

“I feel sorry for her too,” she agreed.

The discussion soon turned to Punta Arenas and some of the great things the city had to offer. After a while, they began discussing politics in South America. It was amazing for Brooke to hear how well informed Landon was. Obviously, he had a vested interested in knowing the political climate as it affected him as a business man, but she could tell he felt more. This part of the world was his home and she was confident he would never leave it.

It caused her to think and wonder about the possibility of a future with him. He had promised her new memories, to be there for her if she did remember her painful past. She wasn’t certain if Landon’s commitment had been the forever kind; she hadn’t expected it to be. However, as the days went by, Brooke knew she loved him and wanted a life with him. If he decided he wanted the same, it would have to be here with him, far away from her home in Montana.

Without a past, she didn’t know how she felt about making a life in Patagonia. Brooke had experienced a great deal of happiness since she awoke from her injury. What if when she remembered, she couldn’t bring herself to make the move?
You have the cart before the horse, Brooke
, she chastised herself. Here she was, mooning over the idea of forever with Landon before knowing the depths of his feelings for her.

The three-and-a-half hour flight was coming to an end. She had been lost in her own thoughts while the two executives talked business. When Jim’s voice was heard over the loud speaker to announce their descent, Landon turned to Brooke. “How about after we arrive at the hotel, we unpack, and the two of us explore Punta Arenas?”

Brooke gave him an appreciative smile. “I would like that very much.”

* * *

I
t was Monday morning, Gaston’s late day. Natasha could hear him in the living room playing with Isabella and Nicholas. She lifted the lid of the waffle maker. With tongs, she removed the crisp golden breakfast treat and poured in more batter. She had been thinking about Landon and Brooke’s trip to Chile. It was nearly eight; they had left an hour ago.

As she prepared the strawberries for the waffles, Natasha smiled when she thought about how wonderful it was to watch her brother falling in love with the photographer. A couple of Sundays ago, when they arrived with the single fish and his injured hand, she had sensed that something changed. There was an intimacy between them that was nearly tangible. All through dinner, she saw the tell-tale signs: the way her brother looked at Brooke, and the tenderness in the other woman’s eyes.

After the meal, when Landon had rolled up his sleeves to help with the dishes, Natasha noticed his one bandaged and one bare wrist. She knew what had changed. Landon had told Brooke about the accident and his attempted suicide. If there had been a shred of doubt about his feelings for the young photographer, they were gone. Her brother would never have shared his deepest vulnerabilities with her if he didn’t love her.

The waffle maker beeped. After removing the fresh batch, Natasha contemplated the whisper of concern that flittered around in the back of her mind.

Before they left for Chile, Natasha had invited Brooke over for lunch while Landon and Gaston were working. They had a wonderful afternoon together. It was easy talking to the woman his brother loved. Even though she couldn’t remember her past, she was insightful, open, and kind.

“Landon told me about the accident and his attempted suicide.” Brooke confirmed what Natasha had already surmised. They were on the deck watching the children as they played. It was a warm afternoon, and they were enjoying the fresh air.

“I suspected as much on Sunday when I saw his wrists.” Natasha wondered if Landon had also told her about his past feelings for Olivia, but she didn’t dare ask, in case he had not mentioned his tender feelings for the young woman. “From what I can tell, you seem to be fine with his past.”

Brooke looked at Natasha. “I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s worse at night when I am trying to fall asleep. I feel such sorrow for him. I’m sure he doesn’t want me to feel as I do, but it’s hard when I think of how I may never have met him.” Holding Natasha’s gaze, she added, “I love him.” The statement was simply said, but the older woman felt the intensity of the words spoken from a full heart.

Placing her hand on top of Brooke’s, Natasha assured her. “I can’t speak for my brother, but I know him well enough to know that his feelings for you are strong. For years, he has been in a holding pattern, a sort of purgatory for his sins, refusing to live life and to hope for a future. You have given him something to live for once more. You’ve done for him what no one has ever been able to do, not even me. I’m very grateful.”

The combination of the bright sun and the shimmer of emotion in Brooke’s eyes were stunning. Natasha had been so dazzled by the emerald green brilliance, she had been taken aback for a moment.

Placing the plate of waffles on the table, Natasha paused in her reflection of that afternoon.
That’s it,
she thought to herself as she hurriedly reached for her tablet that was resting on the small built-in writing desk in the kitchen. Quickly, she entered “Brooke Johnson” and clicked the search button.

Natasha clicked on the images link. The two photos of Brooke Johnson showed her with brown-black eyes, not the emerald green she had known her to have. Why? Why are her eyes black in these photos? She thought of the accident. Were they green or black before she went to the hospital?

With growing concern, Natasha wondered where she had seen those eyes.

“G
ood morning, sir. How may I help you?” inquired the front desk clerk at the Lake House.

“Yes, we have reservations for a Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.”

Brooke was standing next to Landon, admiring his handsome profile. He had kept his sunglasses on to help protect his identity in case one of the employees recognized him. She smiled when she realized he had used her last name, identifying them as a married couple.

“Will you be paying with the same credit card used to hold the reservation, Mr. Johnson?”

“Yes, please.”

“Terrific. One moment and I will have your room keys ready for you. Will you need any help with your baggage?”

“No, thank you.” Landon quickly signed the paperwork.

After receiving the room cards, he reached for Brooke’s hand. Together they walked to the bank of elevators where Tomas, who was also wearing sunglasses, stood with the luggage rack. He appeared to be using the large metal frame as cover.

When the elevator doors closed, she couldn’t resist chuckling. “I feel like we’re starring in a parody of
Mission Impossible
. You both are very obvious.”

The two executives laughed at her comment, while removing their sunglasses. “Hey, at least we haven’t been noticed,” Tomas said with a grin.

“Keep it up and you will be,” she chided good naturedly.

“Maybe they’ll think we’re movie stars trying not to be recognized,” Landon added.

Brooke flashed him a smile. “Well, I hadn’t thought about that.” Glancing at Tomas, who was standing next to Landon, she said, “You two definitely pass for movie star material.”

Tugging gently on her hand, Landon chastised. “Hey, now.”

Brooke thought about the afternoon in the café when she had mentioned how handsome Tomas was and grinned at the man she adored. No one could ever be more beautiful in her eyes than him.

Tomas quipped. “I rather like hearing her speak, Landon.”

Brooke wasn’t able to see the look Landon gave Tomas, but she had an idea of the proprietary message. The way Tomas cleared his throat and turned his eyes toward the elevator door confirmed it.

When they entered the suite, Brooke’s mouth nearly fell open. She took in her opulent surroundings, complete with a baby grand piano that was currently on auto play, hammering out Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
. The image of the keys depressing on their own brought to mind visions of phantoms and operas. Kicking off her heels, she sank her bare feet into the plushest pile of carpeting she was sure they had ever touched.

“I know I don’t remember anything before my accident, but I am certain I have never seen anything more luxurious or glamorous.”

Her appreciation pleased Landon. “I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. I’m sure you could stand here in awe all day, but I am eager to show you Punta Arenas. Are you able to tear yourself away for a while?”

“I’d follow you to the ends of the earth.” Brooke hadn’t intended to say the thought out loud.

Tomas cleared his throat as if to remind the couple that he hadn’t left the room.

Brooke blushed.

Landon, who appeared nonplused by the comment, was churning on the inside with a storm of emotions. Quickly, he directed each person to their room, placing Tomas in between his and hers. The arrangement was strategic, and everyone knew it. If Landon was going to be in close proximity to Brooke for the next few days, Tomas would have to act as a buffer, helping to keep Landon in line.

* * *

T
hirty minutes later they were in a rented car headed toward the outskirts of Punta Arenas.

“Where are we going?” Brooke asked, noticing they were leaving the city.

“I’m taking you to the Hotel Salto Chico.”

“Really?” she replied with incredulity. “What are we going to do when we get there?”

He glanced at Brooke. “Park.”

Landon had told her to bring her camera. She assumed they would be outdoors.

When she saw the mountain range looming in the distance with a white modern hotel in the foreground, she knew this must be their destination.

“I’ll never get tired of looking at rock formations. They take my breath away every time. It’s beautiful, Landon. How interesting that some of the peaks have a sort of flat look as if they were pressed as the rock was cooling.”

“That is the Torres del Paine National Park. I thought you might enjoy a preview before we have dinner in town.”

Landon pulled into a parking spot on the outer edge of the hotel’s lot.

“Preview?” Book questioned.

“I hope you don’t mind. I arranged a tour for you tomorrow with one of the hotel’s guides. I wanted to take you myself, but duty calls.”

“I would rather go with you, but I’m thankful for the tour. What time do I leave?” she asked before exiting the car.

Standing, Landon replied. “Not until ten.” He clicked the button on the key fob which opened the trunk. Reaching inside he removed a blanket, a backpack, and her camera bag.

“Here, let me carry my bag; you have your hands full,” Brooke offered as she gestured with her hand.

“It’s all right. We won’t be going too far. There is a plateau about a quarter of a mile from the lot that would make a good resting spot.”

“Thank you again for asking me to join you here in Chile. I only wish we were here under better circumstances.”

He glanced at her. “As do I.”

They made good time of the quarter mile. When they arrived at the plateau, Landon laid out the thick blanket he had taken from the hotel room while Brooke worked on her camera. When she was ready to begin shooting, she looked at Landon. “Do you want to walk with me?”

“You go ahead. I want to watch you work.” 

It didn’t take Brooke long to become engrossed in her task. It was as if a switch had been turned on, causing her to focus on nothing but her craft.

Landon sat on the blanket with his knees drawn to his chest. Crossing his arms over his bent limbs, he watched her with a mixture of longing and heartache. He loved her so much; he had always loved her. The afternoon when they were fly fishing and he told her about the accident, he knew it was time.

He felt his gut clenching in fear. What would she do when he told her that she was Olivia Nelson, the sister of the boy who had lost his life at the hand of his carelessness? She would despise him, as much as she had before she lost her memory.

A physical pain filled his heart when he thought about why she was here in Patagonia, pretending to be Brooke Johnson. He had known she was coming. The private investigator he hired to check on her had warned him. He’d been tracking her for the past seven months.

When Landon read the fax the investigator had sent almost six months ago about her encounter with some depraved men in Chicago outside the forger’s shop, he had become physically ill. It didn’t matter that Olivia had been smart enough and brave enough to have a weapon and actually threaten the offenders with it; the fact that she had been a hairsbreadth away from being raped and/or murdered was something he couldn’t stomach.

He actually felt relieved when he saw her at the airport over a month ago because he knew here she would be safe . . . or so he thought. Olivia may have been safe from rapists, but not from him. The image of her crashing into the bitt onboard
The Absolution
a week later made him want to weep.
Why
? he wanted to shout. Was she destined to suffer by his hand at every turn?