Return to Osprey Cove

by Luisa Marietta Gold

  "Ms. Wellin, how nice to see you again. What a coincidence that we should both return to the restaurant at the same time," Mr. Harrodson said.

  His words caused such a startled reaction in Catherine that she flinched. Her whole body tensed immediately and she became unable to speak for a few seconds. Jill, noting Catherine's distress, spoke up.

  "It's Mr. Harrodson, isn't it?" She extended her hand, I'm Catherine's secretary, Jill."

  "Oh, yes, it is good to see you gain."

  In the brief time it took for their exchange, Catherine had gained control.

  "Yes, it is a coincidence that we should meet again here. I'm treating Jill to lunch in recognition of all her hard work. I thought she would like the restaurant."

  "I come here quite a lot. I'm not so much interested in the atmosphere as the food. It's hard to beat the good food. My wife used to like to come here as well. We came here often. Well, I hope you both enjoy your lunch."

  Catherine detected a wavering in his voice as he spoke about bringing his wife to the restaurant. Her sense of politeness and genuine feeling for his situation would not allow her to see him dine alone.

  "You are welcome to join us if you like. I know it is not pleasant dining alone. I can attest to that from experience."

  Catherine glanced over at Jill and noticed her eyes had widened in utter surprise. She took in a deep breath as she heard his response to her rather impetuous invitation. What was it about this man that made her do things against her better judgment?

  "That is kind of you, Ms. Wellin. I would love to join you."

  And so, this handsome stranger sat across from Catherine once more.

  Chapter Sixteen

  PENNSYLVANIA

  The nurse on duty in the small Pennsylvania hospital noticed unusual movement in the patient. She had been admitted several months ago as 'Jane Doe.' She watched her carefully. She sensed she might be coming out of the coma. Within a few moments, the patient began speaking, although somewhat incoherently. The nurse in the room quickly paged the on-call doctor.

  "Hello there, how are you feeling?" The doctor queried smiling.

  A low, raspy voice responded, "Where am I? Who are you? Where's Frank?"

  The patient then looked around the room, her eyes reflecting confusion and fear.

  "My name is Dr. Shull. You are here in the hospital. Everything is fine. You were brought in ill, and we are trying to get you well. We weren't able to get your name when you arrived. Can you tell me your name?"

  "My name?" The patient appeared to be searching the depths of her mind for the answer.

  The patient seemed to become agitated and more confused and afraid. "I . . I . . don't remember my name." Then in a raised voice, almost in a hysterical state, she added, "Why don't I remember my name?"

  "Nurse, have a sedative ready," the doctor instructed and then addressed the patient again.

  "Please be calm. Everything is alright. You have been ill and in a coma for a while. Sometimes it takes a little time for one's memory to come back. It's okay that you don't know your name. We'll just call you Jane for now. Will that be alright?"

  The patient nodded affirmatively without speaking.

  Dr. Shull had not been on duty when Jane Doe had been brought in. He took a few moments to read the details that had been noted in her chart relating to where she had been found, etc. The chart stated that there had been a 9-1-1 call made advising that a female had become unconscious. Her chart further said that when the paramedics arrived at the house, the victim was the only one present. She was in a comatose state. There was a glass lying next to her that was later determined to contain high levels of a drug. It was a drug normally intended only to immobilize someone for a period. It did not generally induce a coma.

  While Dr. Shull had been reviewing the chart, the patient fell asleep.

  "She has fallen asleep, nurse. I believe it is natural sleep. She appears to be out of the coma. See that someone stays in the room. She will undoubtedly become confused and frightened again when she wakes up."

  . . .

  The next day, the detective who had been handling Jane Doe's case visited her in the hospital.

  "Jane, I'm Detective Adams. I was involved in the investigation of your case. I understand that you are having trouble remembering anything that happened to you before you were brought into the hospital. Is that correct?"

  "Yes, sir. I can't even remember my name."

  "I'm just going to mention a few of the facts in the case. Hopefully, something will cause you to remember."

  "Okay."

  "I know you have been sick, so if it becomes too much for you, just tell me. I can come back tomorrow. How does that sound?"

  "That's fine, sir."

  "The house that the paramedics found you in was on Apple Street here in town. It's a rental house. The landlord said he had just rented it to a 'Frank Jones.' He had only lived there a few weeks. We believe the man used a false identity to rent the house. Next to where you were lying on the floor was a glass containing a large amount of a drug meant to immobilize you. There was no one else in the house with you. It appears as though whoever gave you the drug fled the scene. They may not have intended to do you permanent harm. Do you remember being in a house on Apple Street? Or, does the name Frank Jones mean anything to you?"

  Jane's expression became pained. "I don't remember being at the house. I remember the name 'Frank,' but I don't know why." Then she started to become agitated and began to cry. "Please go now, Detective Adams. It's too much for me. Maybe we can talk another day."

  "I understand, just get some rest, Jane."

  . . .

  The next morning when Jane woke up, she had a memory of a vivid dream during the night. She began to recount the dream to the nurse who was checking her vital signs.

  "My dream was so real last night. I got into a red Corvette -- a beautiful new red Corvette. I was driving somewhere. I can't remember where, but it was somewhere important. I was driving fast and far away. Then my phone rang. It was Frank. Frank is my brother. He told me he needed money bad. He begged me to come and help him. I told him I couldn't help; I was going somewhere important. He pleaded with me to come and bring some money."

  Jane started rubbing her head and knitting her brow.

  "I knew I shouldn't go, but I love my brother. His voice sounded desperate. I wanted to try to help him. So I went to the address he gave me. He asked me to have a drink with him. Then he started asking me for money. When I said I didn't have any money, he got mad and began to choke me. I don't know why Frank would choke me. He must have needed the money badly. I begged him to stop. He said he wouldn't stop until I got him money. I don't remember what happened after that."

  "I'm not sure what your dream means, Jane. But it is a good sign. Why don't you share your dream with Detective Adams when he comes in this afternoon?"

  "Alright, I will. I'm tired now. I need to rest."

  . . .

  Jane was anxious for Detective Adams to arrive for his visit. She hoped some things she remembered in her dream would help him figure out her identity. She needed to find out who she was. She felt like she was in a living prison. If she never remembered who she was, where would she go when she left the hospital? Why wasn't anyone looking for her? Where was she going that night that was so important?

  When Detective Adams arrived, Jane was sleeping. He sat there a few minutes; then he decided to wake her up.

  "Jane . . . Jane, it is Detective Adams here to see you," he said in a soft tone so as not to frighten her.

  His voice did startle her. She bolted up in bed and stared at him.

  "I'm sorry I startled you, Jane. How are you feeling today?"

  She looked directly at Detective Adams and said in a calm, but puzzled manner, "Why are you calling me Jane? My name is Eva."

  At the moment that Eva said her name aloud, the full recollection of who she was returned to her. She remembered everything that had happened that day
. She remembered where she was going in her Corvette. She had been right on schedule on her way to the first bank, when her brother, Frank, called. She should have known better than to listen to his pleadings for her to come to him. Eva had spent most of her adult life trying to help Frank out of one jam after another. He always needed money. But he had sounded so desperate that day. She remembered feeling if she didn't go to him, he might do something foolish to himself. When she got there, he immediately asked her to have a drink with him. Eva had no idea he had put something in it. He must have thought she would be easier to manipulate to get the money he wanted. Eva remembered telling him she didn't have much to give him. That's when he started to choke her. And then, the drug began to take effect. Did I tell him where I was headed that night? Did I tell him about the envelopes in the secret compartment, each containing the name and address of a different bank, a safe deposit key, a signature card, and a form of ID? She had no recall of what she said to Frank while under the influence of the drug before passing out.

  Detective Adams sat next to her bed waiting to hear her next words. Eva had to think of something fast. The last thing she needed was to be involved with a detective. She needed to call Max and have him come and get her so that they could figure out what happened after she passed out. So many questions were running through her mind. What had Max thought when she hadn't returned? Did he go to the banks and check the boxes? Were the diamonds still there? Had she said enough to Frank that he had emptied them? She would get the answers to some of these questions as soon as Max got there. The rest they would figure out together. Right now she had to get rid of Detective Adams. She hadn't told him about her dream about Frank yet. That was good. She was sure the nurse she mentioned the dream to wasn't even paying account to it.

  "So your name is Eva? That's a lovely name. Is there anything else you now remember?"

  "I remember having a drink with someone. I believe his name was Frank. I was there willingly. I'm sure what happened was a mistake. I don't think he intended to harm me. I don't want to press any charges against this person. All I want right now is to be able to make a phone call to my husband. I need him to get here as quickly as he can, so I can go home."

  "I can understand, Eva how urgently you want to call your husband. Let me call the nurse in so that she can help you make the call." He pushed the buzzer to call the nurse. Then he continued, "What happened that day could have cost you your life, Eva. But neither the department nor I can pursue it any further without a statement from you that you were a victim of a crime. You do know, Eva, that even if you were at the house willingly and accepted the drink, it was still a criminal act for someone to put the drug in the drink."

  "I realize that, Detective. But will you please honor my wishes not to pursue it any further?"

  "If that is your wish. I know you are under a lot of stress at the moment. Here is my card. If you change your mind, don't hesitate to contact me. We will do our best to track down the man that gave you the drink."

  "I will keep that in mind. Thank you for all your help, Detective Adams."

  "I'm happy to see you recovered. I know it is going to be one happy reunion when your husband arrives. Here's the nurse now. I'll let you make your call. Please take care, Eva."

  "I will, thanks again, Detective. As soon as he left, Eva asked for the phone to call Max.

  "Would you mind stepping out of the room, nurse, and closing the door?"

  "I don't mind at all. I perfectly understand your need for privacy. I'll be sure no one disturbs you. If you need anything, just push the button; otherwise, I'll leave you alone."

  "Thank you," Eva replied.

  Eva's hands were shaking so much that she could hardly press the buttons on the phone. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. Her head was pounding as she listened to the phone ringing.

  Please pick up, Max, she thought.

  Chapter Seventeen

  TUCSON TO PUERTO VALLARTA

  Doug pulled out of the dealership in his new Torch Red Corvette. He couldn't believe how good it felt to be driving a Vette again. This one was even better than his last. This one was brand new. He loved the new car smell. He was excited to start his adventure driving back to Puerto Vallarta. The salesman assured him that he had all the documentation, proof of ownership, insurance, etc. to take it into Mexico with no problems. The salesman did caution him a second time to be on the lookout for banditos. A fancy car like the Corvette was bound to draw attention. Doug was not concerned, but he decided to put his IDs and the bulk of his cash in the secret compartment in case of any trouble. He would keep a small amount of money on him just in case of a robbery. Opening the secret compartment of his new Vette brought back memories of his find in his first Vette.

  He remembered coming out of Jackie's apartment and deciding to check the secret compartment. He had just learned about the compartment that morning in his car manual. When he opened the compartment, he had found five manila envelopes. Inside each envelope there was a business card for a different bank, a key that appeared to be for a safe deposit box, and an ID that had a signature on it. The banks were located in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Doug thought about the sleepless night he had spent trying to figure out how to deal with his find. Making that decision to go to those banks and open those safe deposit boxes was the best decision I ever made, he thought. Where would I be now if I hadn't? I'd still be working at that rat hole job. I would still have Catherine as my boss. I'd still be married to Catherine having her micromanaging my life.

  Doug didn't want to think about his old life anymore. All that was behind him now. He turned the radio up louder as if the music could drown out the memories of the past. He focused on the thrill of his new ride. He could hardly wait to get home to The Villa Castlebury. Maybe he would take Isabella for a ride. She probably never rode in a Vette before.

  . . .

  Doug had researched that the actual driving time for his trip back to Puerto Vallarta was about 24 hours. But that translated into three full driving days. While the scenery at times was impressive as he drove through the mountains and valleys, the roads were congested at times and rough. Doug got to learn the meaning of the word topes. It means speed bumps while driving south of the border. Topes are not pleasant to anyone, but they were especially unpleasant for one driving his brand new Corvette. He did take advantage of the cuota or toll road which allowed him to bypass some of the congested towns.

  Once Doug adjusted to traveling on the roads, he relaxed and tried to get his sense of adventure back. It was short-lived. Just north of Mazatlan, Doug's 'adventure' became slightly less exciting. A loose burro ran onto the road in front of him, causing him to swerve to avoid hitting it. As he swerved, the rough edge of the road caused a flat tire. A flat tire while driving his Corvette is not something Doug had thought about -- either in his first Vette or this one. Doug was too much of an optimist to consider the possibility of a flat tire. One just didn't get a flat when driving a cool car like a Corvette. In fact, Doug did not know that Corvettes do not come with spare tires. Even Doug got a bit worried at the dilemma he found himself in. It didn't help that the burro was standing a few yards from him staring as if intrigued by the problem he had created.

  Doug decided the best course of action would be to raise the hood and hope a passing car would stop and help. Several cars zoomed past without as much as a glance. Eventually, a trucker pulled over and asked if he needed help. The trucker spent a lot of time admiring the car. He asked Doug a lot of questions about it and expressed his disbelief that a car could be sold without a spare tire. Any other time, Doug would have been delighted to have someone admiring his car; today was not one of those days. After a while, the trucker got tired of discussing the Vette. He then explained to Doug that Mexico had a vehicle emergency repair service called 'Green Angels.' They patrolled the highways several times a day looking for disabled vehicles. He offered to call their emergency number from the truck. He cautioned Doug to be carefu
l and stay alert until they arrived. Often disabled vehicles became a target for banditos. Doug thanked him and went inside his car to wait for the repair truck. The burro finally got bored and strolled away. The two men from Green Angels arrived about a half an hour later. Doug was glad that they were bilingual. The two men were also enamored by the Corvette and spent -- in Doug's opinion -- far too much time admiring it rather than getting him back on the road. When they finally focused on the tire, it took only a short time to get his tire repaired.

  By this time, Doug was hot, tired, and stressed. He saw his gauge was showing he was low on gas. He decided to stop at the next gasolinera. He hoped he could get a snack and something cold to drink while filling up his tank. He let the attendant pump the gas while he went inside. When he came out, he realized that this had been a mistake. The amount he was charged did not seem possible. But at this point, Doug just wanted to be on his way.

  When he entered Mazatlan, he headed toward the coast and found a nice hotel that offered guarded parking. He removed his IDs and extra cash from the secret compartment. He had dinner in the restaurant and went right to bed. It had been an exhausting day.

  When he woke up the next morning, he realized how beautiful the beach was here in Mazatlan. He considered staying another day and enjoying it. It was tempting because he had also heard the nightlife here was good. But in the end, he decided he wanted to get back to the villa. As soon as he left Mazatlan, he started seeing signs for Puerto Vallarta. He knew he was getting closer, but he was glad he had rested well. He still had a long drive ahead of him.

  The long hours of driving alone provided plenty of opportunities for Doug to think. Doug was not what one would call a deep thinker. He rarely reflected on life or thought out and planned a course of action. Nor did he give much thought to the consequences of any of his actions. He was a person who improvised. He more or less had a 'live for today' philosophy. He did pretty much what he felt like doing at any given time and didn't think too far ahead. While, to Doug, it may have appeared that he had done a lot of planning to start his new life, the reality was that he had not thought about a lot of important aspects of his new life. It's true; he had spent hours on the Internet researching how to get new IDs, how to stage his accident, and how to liquidate some of the diamonds. But there were many more equally important issues that he had not even thought about. During this long trip through the Mexican countryside, some of these aspects began to enter his mind.