by Joanne Fluke
Maura glanced up at the clock again, but only a few minutes had passed. She felt like screaming for it to speed up and race toward the moment she’d been anticipating all day. Keith was coming home and she might have told him about Nick and Emmy. All she had to do was ask him, and he could clear up the mystery.
Nita had given her Keith’s itinerary, and Maura flipped open the airline pamphlet to check the times. Keith was in Denver right now. At one thirty-three, he’d be boarding his connecting flight, and he’d arrive in L.A. less than three hours from now.
There was a knock at the door, and Maura hurried to open it. Nita was standing there, balancing a tray.
“Hello, Miss Maura. Here is your lunch.” Nita walked in and placed the tray on Maura’s desk. And then she gestured toward the stairwell. “I had to bring Cappy with me. He would not stay behind in the kitchen.”
Maura grinned as she saw Cappy coming up the last stair. “You’d better leave him here, Nita. He looks exhausted from all those stairs. I’ll bring him down later.”
When Nita left, Maura picked up Cappy and cuddled him in her arms. His ears were limp, his tail was down, and he gave a deep, doggy sigh as he looked up at her. “What’s the matter, Cappy? Are two flights of stairs too much for a little guy like you?”
Cappy’s tail thumped feebly. He was so tired, only the tip moved. And as Maura watched, he gave another deep, doggy sigh and closed his eyes.
“You’re so tired, you can’t stay awake.” Maura smiled as she took him to the daybed in the corner of the room. She put him down, and he snuggled right up to a feather pillow without opening his eyes.
“Some company you are!” Maura laughed, and returned to her desk. Nita had prepared what she claimed was Maura’s favorite lunch, a salad niçoise. Maura took one bite and frowned slightly. It was delicious, but something was missing.
She stared down at the beautifully arranged salad plate, and mentally reviewed the ingredients; tuna, anchovies, tomatoes, potatoes, green beans, hard-boiled eggs, ripe olives, and Boston lettuce, dressed with an herb vinaigrette. It all seemed to be there, but the taste was different, not quite what she remembered. She shut her eyes and tried to recall where she’d had salad niçoise before. It had been a long time ago, at an outdoor café, on a busy street somewhere in . . .
* * *
The waiter was Belgian, and she was amused by his accent. He was also one of them and a friend of Nick’s so she tried not to show it. He rolled his r’s when he told them the special was “crrrrispy” duck, and he sounded as if he had a terrible cold.
Nick ordered the duck, but she wasn’t very hungry. She hadn’t known they were stopping to eat, and she’d made herself a snack before Nick had come to pick her up.
“Try the salad niçoise.” Nick smiled at her across the table. “They’re famous for it here.”
The wine was delicious, a dry, white vintage she’d never tasted before. It came from a region that was known for its excellent vineyards, and Nick had promised to take her on a tour of the most prestigious wineries when they had the time. She sipped very slowly, drinking very little, knowing that alcohol and business didn’t mix. They had a job to do later, and she needed to keep all her wits about her.
Nick was wearing the ring. She could see it on his finger, brushed gold reflecting the sunlight. And she was wearing a ring, too. It had a cloudy, dark blue stone with a star hidden in its depths. It was very old. She could tell by the antique, filigreed silver mounting. It was very dear to her. Someone she loved had given her the ring.
The waiter appeared with her salad, beautifully arranged on a clear blue glass plate with a fluted edge. Nick smiled, urging her to try it.
The first bite was ambrosia. The vinaigrette was sharp and tasty, liberally sprinkled with fresh herbs. And the tuna was exquisite. When she asked why this salad was so different from any she’d tried before, Nick told her that the tuna was fresh. And then he laughed and said he’d done her a terrible disservice. Now that she’d tasted fresh tuna from the Baltic Sea, she’d never be able to enjoy the canned variety again.
She finished her salad, every bit of it, and Nick had eaten his duck. And while they were waiting for strong, black coffee to be served, she turned to look around the small patio restaurant.
The floor was bare, decorated only by smooth gray stones, set into concrete. The low walls were made of the same type of stone, and white latticework panels at the top lent privacy from the street traffic. Plants set in pots stood against the walls, tall plants with glossy green leaves and bright pink, waxy flowers. The round tables were made of wrought iron painted white, with matching chairs. The seats of the chairs were covered with bright pink fabric and the tablecloths were of the same color. The combination of white, pink, and green was very pleasant, and to add to the ambience, strains of Mozart played softly in the background.
They were the only customers, sitting across from each other at one of the small tables, their knees almost touching under the tablecloth. Just Nick. And her. There was no other woman who might be Emmy. Where was she? And why wasn’t she here with her husband? The Maura who’d been there knew, but this Maura didn’t.
As they sipped their coffee, another couple came in to sit at a table nearby. It was clear they were tourists by the cameras that hung around their necks. The man, a tall, dark stranger who looked vaguely Latin, asked Nick a question in a foreign language. Nick answered him in the same language, and took the camera he offered.
Maura smiled as the couple moved closer together, and Nick stood up to take their picture. But then someone whistled a warning, and she turned to see Peter motioning frantically from the kitchen door.
She didn’t think, she just lunged forward to knock Nick down behind the low wall. And then they ran, bending down low, to the kitchen door.
There was an explosion somewhere behind them as they passed the gleaming, stainless steel counters. And then they were out in a dark alley, running to a car.
The back doors were open, and she slid in, rolling to the other side. She felt Nick land beside her, and the door closed with a solid thunk.
“Stay down!” The voice was Peter’s, and the car barreled forward, screeching down the alley and through the streets. She could see Nick’s face as they sped past the street lights, and he looked very different in the strobelike light. The Nick in the restaurant had been relaxed and happy, smiling as they’d talked about ordinary things. This Nick was tense, poised for action, and she shivered as she realized that he was quite formidable.
“You are okay?” He felt her shiver and he glanced down at her.
“Yes. The explosion . . . what happened?”
“Somebody knew we were there. It’s not a safe place anymore. Have we lost them, Peter?”
There was a laugh from the front seat. “Of course. That’s why I’m the driver and you’re the passenger. But stay down until we get to the house. I want to drive by and check it out before we go in.”
The floorboards of the car were far from comfortable, but Nick stretched out and cradled her against him. At first his arm was tense around her shoulders, but as the miles passed he began to relax. “What do you think? Was it Henri?”
“Possibly. But if it was, he got his just rewards. He took a bullet.”
She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help asking. “Is he . . . dead?”
“Oh, yes.” Peter’s voice was hard. “I saw him and there’s no doubt about that.”
“But what if he wasn’t the one who . . . ?”
“Hush.” Nick stroked her cheek with his hand. “You’ve got to remember, life isn’t fair. And they don’t play by the rules.”
They rode several miles in silence, and the motion of the car almost lulled her to sleep. Nick must have thought she was sleeping because he spoke very softly. “This isn’t going well, Peter. What do you think about sending her back?”
“I would, at least temporarily. Your concern for her could make you careless, and there are other live
s at stake.”
“No!” She sat up, and pulled away from Nick’s comforting embrace. “I have to stay. They spent months training me, and you can’t find a replacement overnight.”
Nick pulled her back against his chest again, and sighed very softly. “That’s my decision. If I say go, you’ll go. This is much more dangerous than we thought it would be.”
“But I volunteered.” She felt the tears well up in her eyes. “And I want to be here with you and Peter. You can’t send me home. Not after everything we’ve been through. Besides, it would look strange if I left right now when there’s only a few more weeks to go.”
“But you’d be safe.” Peter spoke up from the front seat. “And Nick wouldn’t spend valuable time worrying about you. I think you should fly back. You’ve become a liability.”
Nick nodded, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Peter’s right. You have to leave. We’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”
She started to cry then, hot stinging tears running down her cold cheeks. She didn’t want to leave him. Not now. Not ever.
“Don’t cry.” Nick held her tightly as he whispered the words in her ear. “It’s for the best.”
She shook her head, and tried to deny it. “No, Nick. I can’t leave. It’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair if you stay.” His voice was low and intimate, so only she could hear. “Do this for me. It’s what I want most in the world. Go back home, and take my baby away from all this. I want both of you to be safe.”
* * *
Maura’s eyes opened with a snap. His baby?! She hadn’t known that Nick had a baby. If she’d gone back home with Nick’s baby, what had happened to the child?
As she asked herself these questions, a terrible suspicion began to grow in Maura’s mind. Was Janelle really her child? Or were Janelle’s parents really Nick and Emmy?
“That’s ridiculous!” She spoke out loud and Cappy woke up to look at her. He must have sensed her distress because he hopped off the daybed and raced across the floor to paw at her leg.
“It’s all right, Cappy.” Maura picked him up. “I just had another weird dream, that’s all.”
It had to be a dream. Maura frowned as she thought it through carefully. Janelle was her child. Steve and Donna had been with her the night she’d gone into labor, and they’d taken her to the hospital and waited until Janelle was born. Nick and Emmy’s baby was another child. Somehow, she was reliving Emmy’s life, mistaking Emmy’s memories for her own.
Maura reached for the notebook she carried with her, and wrote down everything she could remember. It had seemed as if everything had happened to her, but it was Emmy’s life she was remembering. Where was Nick and Emmy’s child now? Maura frowned deeply. She wished that she could remember.
It wouldn’t do any good to ask Janelle. She had barely remembered Nick’s name, and she would have mentioned his wife and child if she’d known about them. And Nita hadn’t known anything either, when she’d shown her Nick’s picture. Steve had claimed no knowledge of Nick, and Maura doubted that Keith had anything to tell her.
Maura sighed, and then she came to a decision. It was a waste of time to question everyone. Nick and Emmy had been involved in something very dangerous, and it was obvious she’d told no one about them and their child. Of course she wanted to know more about them. She had to discover how they fit into her life. But that was a mystery that only she could solve.
And to solve it, she had to get her memory back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
There were two high, narrow windows by the side of the front door, and Maura gazed out through the curtain. Somehow, she managed to put a smile on her face as she watched Steve’s car round the bend in the driveway and pull up in front of the house. Her husband was home.
Steve popped open the trunk and got out of the driver’s side to walk around to the back of the car. The passenger’s door opened and Keith got out, too, but the body of the car blocked her view of his face.
Maura felt her hands begin to tremble and she clasped them together tightly. There was no way she wanted Keith to know how nervous she was. It might hurt his feelings, and that would be terrible.
She opened the door and stood there waiting, trying to look like a normal wife, happy that her husband was home from his business trip. She must have been convincing because Keith grinned from ear to ear when he saw her.
“Hi, honey!” He came up the steps with a jaunty wave. “Sorry we’re late, but the flight was delayed.”
Maura nodded. “I know. I called the airport to see if your flight was on time. They told me you were an hour late on your takeoff from O’Hare.”
“I brought you a little something from New York.” Keith presented her with a department store bag. “I guess I should have had it wrapped, but I was in a rush when I bought it.”
Maura was surprised as she took the bag. Did Keith always bring her gifts when he traveled on business? She was about to ask him when she realized that it would be tactless on her part. She’d find out later, from Nita or Jan.
“Go ahead, open it.” Keith grinned at her. “It’s something I think you’ll like.”
Maura opened the bag and took out the box inside. It was brown and gold and it said Opium on the side in gold embossed letters.
“Why don’t you use some tonight?” Keith was smiling as if they had a secret to share. “It might bring back some fond memories.”
Maura smiled back, but her mind was reeling in shock. Opium was a drug! “You want me to . . . use this tonight?”
“Absolutely. That’s why I bought it. Nita said you were out, and I know you don’t like to go anywhere without it.”
“Uh . . . thank you.” Maura tried not to look as shocked as she felt. Evidently the movement to legalize marijuana had been much more successful than anyone had dreamed back in the seventies! “Tell me, Keith . . . do I . . . uh . . . use opium often?”
Keith nodded. “Every day. You told me you don’t feel like yourself without it. You’ve been using it ever since I met you.”
“Then it’s a . . . a habit?”
“I guess you could say that.” Keith chuckled. “You get really upset when you run out.”
“And you don’t mind that I use opium?”
“Of course not. I enjoy it, too. What’s the matter, honey? Don’t you like it anymore?”
“I . . . I’m not sure.” Maura’s face turned pale. She’d never dreamed she was addicted to drugs! And then she had another thought that made her shudder. “How about Jan? Does she use opium, too?”
Keith shook his head. “You let her try it a couple of times, but she decided it wasn’t right for her.”
“I . . . I see.” Maura tried not to show how horrified she was. She’d given her daughter opium! Thank God Jan hadn’t become an addict! “How about Nita? Does she use opium?”
“No. Opium’s very expensive, and Nita prefers something that’s imported from Mexico. One of your girls went down there last year on vacation, and she brought some back for Nita’s Christmas present.”
Maura groaned. She couldn’t believe she’d asked one of her employees to import drugs for Nita. It had to be illegal. And she certainly wouldn’t use opium again, now that she knew about her addiction! Somehow she’d managed to kick her dependency, and now it was time to start her life over, drug-free.
“Maura? What’s wrong?”
Keith looked genuinely concerned, and Maura gave a deep sigh. Then she handed him the box and squared her shoulders. “I know you meant well, but I want you to take this back. I haven’t had any since I left the hospital, and this is my chance to put it all behind me.”
Steve came up, just in time to hear the tail end of their conversation. And he looked just as shocked as Keith did. “What are you talking about, Maura?”
“I don’t remember how I got addicted, but I know I don’t want to use opium anymore. And I asked Keith to return it.”
“Addicted?” Steve started to laugh. “Ma
ura . . . I can’t believe you thought . . .”
Keith stared at him for a moment, and then he began to laugh, too. “It all makes sense. Opium didn’t come out until the eighties. And Maura doesn’t remember the eighties.”
“Why are you laughing?” Maura began to frown. “There’s absolutely nothing funny about drug addiction, even if it’s legal now. It’s a horrible . . .”
“Maura . . . wait.” Steve interrupted her. “Trust me. You’re not addicted to drugs. Let Keith open the package and show you what’s inside.”
Maura watched while Keith opened the package. And she gasped as he took out a lovely designer bottle in a distinctive shape with a crystal stopper at the top.
“Think hard, Maura. Do you recognize this?” Keith was grinning as he held it up.
Maura started to shake her head. But then she had a sudden vision of opening a similar bottle at her dressing table. She’d pulled out the stopper and dabbed some of the amber liquid inside on the pulse point of her throat, and the inside of her wrists, and . . .
“Perfume?!” Maura’s mouth dropped open. “Opium is a perfume?”
Keith nodded. “That’s right. And you’ve been wearing it ever since I met you. You never went anywhere without it.”
“Oh, no!” Maura laughed so hard, tears came to her eyes. “I thought it was really opium!”
Steve grinned. “And you thought Keith was bringing you illegal drugs?”
“Not really. I thought drugs were legal now. They were talking about legalizing marijuana when I was in college, and I just assumed that . . .”
“It didn’t happen, Maura.” Keith was still laughing. “Drugs are still illegal. Now about the Opium I brought you . . . would you like to try it?”
Maura nodded. “I’d love to! And I’ll use it tonight, I promise. I’m sorry I was such an idiot, Keith.”
“No problem.” Keith gave her a little hug. “I should have thought it through before I gave it to you. Sometimes I forget that you don’t remember any of the time we’ve been together.”
