As his story wound down, he leaned forward. “Anyway, we talked till my battery ran dead. And we agreed to see each other when I returned home.”
“I thought I didn’t want to go out with you.” Finishing my second crepe, I set my fork on the empty plate.
He took my plate. “That’s what you said. But that’s not what you wanted.” He gave me a crooked grin and went inside, returning with the last two crepes on my plate. “You said...” He still grinned. “...you really liked me, but you were afraid of your feelings. They were too strong. And you didn’t want to do anything wrong.”
“I did not.” My face warmed.
“Yes, you did. So, we agreed to some rules, like, we wouldn’t kiss unless someone was around. So, while you lived at my house, we spent an awful lot of time around my father.”
I felt the blood rushing to my face, knowing that I’d turned beet red. “You mean, so we could kiss?”
“Yeah.” Eyes narrowing with a defensive look, he folded and unfolded his arms. “Hey, it wasn’t all physical, and our kisses were sweet, innocent. What we had was good, really good. You were good. You made me want to be good.” He shook his head. “Within a couple of weeks, I couldn’t think of anything else but making you my wife. So I had an engagement ring made with an opal I’d brought back from the mine.”
I gazed at the ring as he spoke. Two glittery diamonds flanked an oval opal that sparkled with blue, orange, and pink. “I figured that’s where the opal came from when I learned about the mine.”
“I carried the ring around with me for days, afraid to ask you.”
“You... afraid?” His confident air all through high school and even while giving his talk to hundreds of high school kids made it hard to imagine.
“Well, your parents had, uh, reservations about me.” He shifted in his seat, pushed his crepe around with his fork, and gave me fleeting glances. “Some of your friends... Well, you can imagine their reaction to us being a couple. And we’d only been seeing each other for a short time, and you hadn’t ever told me you loved me.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No. Well, yes, when I called from Brazil, I told you I thought I was falling in love with you. And, of course, I told you when I proposed.”
“Tell me about that.” A longing struck my heart. Of all the memories I’d lost, I would love to have at least this one returned to me.
“Okay.” He set his fork down and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “I meant to propose over dinner in a fancy restaurant. But I didn’t. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with all the people around, especially if you wanted to say no. So we just ate and talked. You kept asking if something was wrong.” He smiled at his plate. “Next day, we took a walk in the woods behind my house, and I almost asked you then, but... I don’t know why I didn’t.
“A couple days later, we were at your family’s house, and your father had a little talk with me. Maybe he knew we were getting serious, I was getting serious. He asked me all these questions about my plans for the future. I realized I couldn’t answer him, because I needed to know if you were gonna be in it with me. So I tore you away from a board game with your sisters and took you for a walk.”
Jarret reached toward the vase of lilacs as he spoke and picked up a little box I hadn’t noticed sitting there. “We walked to that playground down the street from your house. Sat on the swings for a few minutes, you swinging and talking, me thinking about how to word my proposal and trying not to freak over the possibility of rejection. Then I got off my swing and stopped yours.”
He got up and dropped onto one knee before me.
My fork fell from my hand, a strange sensation washed over me, and my heart threatened to burst from my chest. I saw nothing but love in the deep brown eyes looking up at me.
“Caitlyn, I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, have a family with you. You make me want to be better than I am. And I know I can make you happy. I want you to be my wife.”
I opened my mouth to speak but my breath caught in my throat.
He smiled with his eyes as if my reaction pleased him. “So, that’s what I said.”
I breathed. He was only retelling how it went. He wasn’t actually proposing. Calm down.
“Oh,” I whispered, wishing I could think of a better response but unable to think of anything except how sweaty my palms had become and how violently my heart was beating in my chest.
He took my hand and pushed a little black box into it. Then he lifted the lid. Diamond earrings with opal drops rested on black velvet inside the box.
“I love you more today than when I married you,” he said. “And I want you to remember our wedding. Maybe we can start over. Marry me. Again.”
My gaze flitted back and forth from his eyes to the earrings. Did he just propose?
“I was gonna give you those for our anniversary. You already have an engagement ring. What would you do with two? So, I thought those could be engagement earrings, or whatever. You used to wear the necklace I gave you. It matches too.”
I touched my neck. “I’d like to see it. These are beautiful.”
“So...” His gaze intensified. “What’s it gonna be?”
Emotion formed a lump in my throat, making it difficult to speak. “We’re already married. How can we marry again?”
“Father Zac, the priest at our church, said we could, well, renew our vows, anyway.” He knelt on both knees and his gaze dropped to the earrings. Was he trying to avoid eye contact? “What I really want you to think about is—and you don’t have to answer me now but—do you want to marry me? You know you are my wife, but do you want to be? If you do, I thought it’d be nice for you to have a wedding you could remember. What if you never—”
“I will, Jarret. I’ll get my memory back.” I set the box on the table and took his hands, his eyes rising to mine. “I get bits and pieces every day. Sometimes it’s just a bit of knowledge or a feeling but...” I slid off the chair and knelt with him.
He gave me a funny look and his mouth fell open.
My heart overflowed with emotion. Words came together in my mind and left my lips without my thinking about it. “I love you, Jarret. I’m starting to see who you really are. I realize I’ve misjudged you and I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been seeing you for your past mistakes and not for the man you’ve become.”
Squeezing my hands, he smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Do you realize you did this the first time I proposed?”
“What?”
“When I asked you the first time, you slid off your swing and dropped to your knees with me. Then you told me ‘yes’ and said you thought God brought us together.”
I’d done this before! A joyful laugh escaped me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek to his. His arms slid around my waist, pulling me close. “I do think God brought us together,” I whispered.
“So, is that a yes or do you want to think about it?” His voice, a warm rumble in my ear, stirred me deep inside.
CHAPTER 38
RUNNING OUT OF places to search, I rifled through my underwear drawer. Beneath everything, I found several prayer cards, a birthday card from my parents, and a little plastic bottle of holy water from Lourdes.
Not there.
I had already checked the jewelry box, which held mostly Jarret’s jewelry, and the bathroom drawers and the bookshelf in the living room. Where could I have put my opal necklace? How could I have been so careless with it? Didn’t he say I wore it all the time? Maybe my purse!
I dashed to the closet and grabbed the first purse. Empty. I tossed it to the floor. The next one? Empty. Next? Empty. Next— I tossed each empty purse to the floor. Why did I have so many purses anyway? The last one I checked had my wallet, lip balm, comb, an empty granola bar box, and— Oh! The spy pen. Oops. I had forgotten to return it. Hands on my hips and totally frustrated, I sighed and made a quick prayer to St. Anthony. Maybe I should’ve asked him first.
My memories had begun to return, and I was certain more would follow if only I could find the right triggers.
I decided upon the most reasonable way to start my search: determine potential motives. I ripped a sheet of yellow notepaper from a pad and wrote the word “REVENGE” at the top. Then I scribbled down everything that came to mind for that motive and set the sheet in the center of the table. I wrote the next motive on another sheet, continuing the process until I’d written every possible motive I could imagine for an act of violence against me. With one hand on a hip and the other on my chin, I studied the motive sheets.
Motives
JEALOUSY - Sean likes me and seems unable to take “no” for an answer. Jarret hates Sean, learned about the kiss, and maybe saw us at the office after hours. Has a pattern of drinking when faced with “setbacks.” (I had written that note thinking of the emails and of last Friday when he had thrown Roland out.)
REVENGE - who has suffered from my work on a case? Arthur Jordan: man involved in fraudulent worker compensation claim, or family member of Arthur Jordan who suffers from his jail sentence. (My photos and evidence had formed the key proof against him.)
RAPE - no, thank God, no. (I was fairly certain I had not been violated.)
MUGGING - not likely since car and purse untouched. Note: Camera, cell phone, and keys still missing.
INCRIMINATING PICTURE ON CAMERA - Tamara Eber, underage girl in the bar. Tamara’s boyfriend. One of the men involved with illegal drugs at 1419 Danbury. Gary Nicolan, the embezzler. Adeline’s boyfriend? Was he there that night at the park? Was he worried I had taken or was about to take a picture?
As I reviewed the possible motives, Sean’s theory came to mind. With reluctance, I considered it. Jarret had admitted feeling responsible because of his anger toward me, but he hadn’t mentioned going to the park. What if he’d been drunk and couldn’t remember?
I shook my head. It didn’t seem possible. Of course, if my cell phone and camera were found at the park, wouldn’t it rule out the MUGGING and INCRIMINATING PICTURE motives? But it would leave as possibilities the REVENGE and JEALOUSY motives.
We had to go to the park.
Something else came to mind, so I jotted it down on a clean sheet of paper and set it with the motives. Question: Why is Victor so against our work on the abortion case?
I placed lists around the motives, along with transcripts of interviews and pictures that might’ve been related. I made a section on the table for recent witnesses and contacts, with pictures if I had them, and another section for the pictures that were on my camera Friday.
I grabbed a fresh sheet of notepaper and a pen, deciding to write out the events as they may have happened that day, based on what people told me and on my bits of memories. I titled it “Amnesia Friday.”
Morning - before work, Jarret took my camera by accident. At work, I contemplated telling Jarret about the kiss and was edgy all morning. Sean noticed.
Noon - Assuming we had switched cameras, Jarret came up to Wright Investigators to trade cameras. He had mine. I didn’t have his. His was in the old box. I told Jarret about the kiss. Jarret got angry. Sean saw me in Jarret’s car. Anyone else see?
Afternoon - annoyed at Sean. Went to print pictures with Sean.
Five o’clock - everyone left work except Sean and me. Sean wanted to talk, wanted to know why I was upset, ended up confessing his love. I rejected him. Victor saw our cars. Anyone else see?
Six o’clock - Adeline called? I went to meet her at the park? Which park? Why? Probably to get her story and make her a witness. Did anyone follow? Who else was there? Roland will soon know more.
At the park - MEMORY: getting out of my car, I saw a man in a disguise, got scared, and ran into woods. Can’t be Sean. No time to get a wig? Can’t be Jarret. He wouldn’t disguise himself, would he? Maybe the image is mixed up, the way Mike said it might happen.
I set the pen down but picked it up again. What about the new memories? Those would’ve had to happen later, after the incident. I scratched the memories down on a separate paper, which I placed near Amnesia Friday.
Tapping my lip with the pen, I gazed at the spread of pictures and notes. What was I missing?
A knock sounded on the front door. Roland!
I tossed my notebook over the ‘Jealousy’ motive and went to the door. Roland wouldn’t like to see Jarret’s name there. Besides, I had ruled out jealousy as a motive. Neither Jarret nor Sean seemed capable of violence against me. I might as well crumple up that page and throw it in the garbage.
The knock came again, the instant before I opened the door. Roland lowered his fist and smiled. “Hi. Am I too early?”
I laughed. “Isn’t it after ten? How lazy do you think I am?” I held the door while he came in, then I closed it behind him. “I’m glad to see you.” I hugged him. “Are you hungry? Want something to drink?”
“No.” His gaze snapped to the table and his body, as if drawn by a magnet, moved toward it. “What’re you up to?”
I followed, trying to think if I’d written other notes I wouldn’t want him to see. “I’ve been sorting through my notes, trying to piece things together. What’d you find out about Adeline? Were you right? Did we have an appointment?”
He nodded and stopped by the table, his eyes roaming, taking it all in. “Adeline said you tried to contact her the week before, but she hadn’t wanted to think about the abortion. She finally decided to call back Friday about ten to six. You agreed to meet her at the park. She waited for you for an hour, she said. Then she tried to call the office again, but no one answered. After that, she just put it out of her mind, until I called.”
“Wow. Did she see anything suspicious?”
“No.” Roland touched a paper on the table. Which one? He turned it so he could read it.
I came up beside him and glimpsed the paper. Oh. I gulped. He was reading the description of my new memories. My hand nearly shot out. I wanted to snatch the paper and flip it over. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest. I wanted his help.
“Adeline saw nothing out of the ordinary,” Roland said, squinting at the note. “And she’d come alone, too. But the pavilion you agreed to meet at doesn’t have a view of the parking areas, so—”
“What’s this?” He lifted the paper and turned his gray eyes to me.
“Oh, that.” My face burned, knowing the personal details he’d just read. I forced a smile, trying not to look freaked out, and then I snatched the paper from him. “I gained more memories.”
“About Jarret?”
I nodded.
“About Friday?”
I nodded again. “I don’t think they came to me in order, but my head hurt in all of them, so I believe they occurred after the incident. They’re kind of confusing.” I stared at my notes as if I needed them to remember, but the memories were as fresh as when they had first flooded my mind. I returned the note to its place on the table and said without emotion, “I was kissing Jarret in one of them, arguing with him in another, and wandering alone through the dark woods in the last one.”
“Hmm. Yeah, that sounds mixed up. I’d think you’d be kissing after the argument, uh, making up.”
I giggled.
Blushing, he turned his gaze to the table.
“If I try to fit them together with the first memory, I’d say, I ran into the woods, something happened where I hit my head and maybe passed out, then I woke up in the dark and stumbled through the woods to get home.”
“Right. And when you got home, you argued with Ja
rret over something. What do you remember about the argument?”
I didn’t want to say. It didn’t look good for either of us. “Oh, um, well, he asked if I was cheating on him.”
Roland shot a glare, opened and closed his mouth, looked away. “That had to be a bad argument.”
“I think it was. But I do remember kissing him, so obviously...”
“Unless the kiss was from some other time.”
“I don’t think so. My head hurt in all the memories, and I remember standing in the bedroom by the bathroom when we argued and when we kissed.”
He reached for the notepad in the middle of the table.
Not wanting him to see the note under it, I grabbed his hand and turned him to face me. “Jarret proposed to me!” I knew my eyes were wide and crazy, but I couldn’t control it.
“What?” Roland said. “You’re already his wife.”
“I know. But isn’t he sweet? He wants me to have a wedding I remember. I think he did it because last night I—” No, that wasn’t something I should share. “Well, he said he wants me to think about my feelings for him, for us. I guess he wants to know if I would do it all over again.”
“So, what’d you tell him?” Roland’s expression and the slant of his brows betrayed a combination of amusement and worry.
“I didn’t answer.” I played with my engagement ring, recalling the somewhat dejected look in Jarret’s eyes, but I’d had a few things I still needed to sort out.
CHAPTER 39
I SAT IN the front passenger seat of my car, watching Jarret drive. His face was as emotionless and still as a stone statue. He wore his hair in a ponytail, the black sunglasses I had picked up at the store last week, and a white Armani pullover shirt with a thick gray stripe across the chest and down one side—but that shouldn’t matter. It should still work.
The setting sun sent beams of light through the trees, making a strobe-light effect as we passed by. Patches of sunlight fell on the new blacktop road. The winding road, which resembled a great mottled serpent, took us deeper and deeper into the woods.
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