Angus's Lost Lady

by Marie Ferrarella

  As he deposited the shopping bag on the newly made bed, Angus’s attention crept back to her legs. Like a man on the verge of self-imposed abstinence, he allowed himself one last, long look. The view only got better.

  He cleared his throat. “Not that I don’t think you look fetching in oversize shoes and rumpled clothes—” and especially the jersey, he thought, but since Vikki was at his elbow, he kept that part to himself “—but I picked up a few things for you before I stopped to get us breakfast.” Luckily, there was a store right across from the fast-food restaurant that wisely opened its doors at eight, beating out the competition and amassing a loyal clientele.

  Vikki was familiar with the store he frequented because of its proximity, hours and reasonable prices. Steven’s was one of her favorite places to go. The toy area to which she always dragged him had more than a few things to snag her attention.

  “Anything for me?” Vikki looked at him with large, hopeful eyes.

  He knew better than to forget her. “Yeah, I got something for you, too.”

  Vikki peered hopefully around him into the hall. “A dog?”

  He had his own personal Johnny One-Note, Angus thought. Owning a dog was getting closer to becoming a reality with each passing day.

  “No, a new book.” He produced it from the shopping bag. It was a storybook about five puppies and their new owners. At least it was about owning a dog, he thought, watching Vikki’s face for her reaction.

  “Oh.” Vikki took it from him. Her disappointment faded a little when she saw the puppies on the cover. A small smile nudged its way to her lips. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” His fervent hope was that if he continued bringing her books, eventually he’d find something that would spark her interest enough to make her forget about the current favorite he had to keep reading over and over again.

  He stole a glance toward Rebecca, wondering what she thought of his purchases. He’d gotten her a soft blue-and-white pullover and stone-washed jeans. Angus wasn’t quite sure how to interpret the bemused expression on her face.

  She held the pullover up against her. Angus had made it sound as if it were no big deal for him to buy these for her. But it was. It was a very big deal. It made her feel less like an inconvenience and more like a person.

  Rebecca raised her eyes to his. “How did you know what size to get?”

  She had obviously forgotten that he’d looked at the labels in her clothes at the hospital. Angus decided that she might not handle it well if he brought that to her attention.

  “I’ve got a pretty good eye for details. I’ve been at this business for a while.”

  “What, dressing women?” she asked as a ribbon of amusement wound through her.

  “No, just observing them.” He looked at his daughter. Vikki appeared to have taken root where she stood. “C’mon, Vik, let’s give Rebecca some privacy so she can take a shower and get dressed. Meet you at the nearest breakfast burrito when you’re ready.” Angus winked at Rebecca before ushering Vikki out and closing the door behind them.

  With the new clothes clutched against her, Rebecca stood staring at the closed door. The flutter his wink had created was still threatening to take over her stomach. It took her a moment before she finally turned and went into the bathroom. A shower would seem like heaven right now.

  “I guess you really do have a good eye.”

  Rebecca’s words preceded her as she walked into the kitchen. Without thinking, she tugged on the hem of the pullover. It just barely came to her waist. The clothes he’d purchased were her size all right, but they seemed to be cut a little smaller than the stained clothes she’d discarded last night.

  “They’re a little snug,” she allowed, “but I can move around in them.”

  Angus gave her an appreciative once-over. “Yes, you certainly can.” The jeans were a little snug. In his estimation, that made the fit perfect. The clothes she’d worn yesterday hadn’t allowed him to realize just how shapely she was. These left no doubt. She had the kind of body that lingered on a man’s mind and teased his senses into rigid attention.

  The look in his eyes made her feel warm. alive. She savored it, even though she figured he was only being kind. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

  His hand filled with napkins, Angus grinned as his eyes skimmed over her again. “You just did.” Looking at her was certainly payment enough for his efforts. He gestured toward the table. “C’mon, breakfast is getting cold.”

  She sat down beside Vikki, who had nearly polished off her share. “We could always take out a lamp and warm it up.” As the words left her lips, Rebecca’s eyes widened; pleasure laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They use lamps to keep these warm, don’t they?”

  “They use lamps,” he repeated. It was a silly little piece of miscellaneous information, yet she looked like a child with a new toy at Christmas—joy stamped on her face. She had remembered something she’d known before. “See, it’s coming back.”

  “This time tomorrow,” she said hopefully, “I might be able to remember everything.”

  He had a feeling she was being unduly optimistic. He didn’t want to see her crushed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Besides, even if it does all come together, there’s still that small matter of someone shooting at you.”

  “A mugger?” Vikki offered, stealing a bite out of his egg sandwich.

  Angus broke off half and gave it to her. “Maybe,” he allowed, seriously considering the suggestion. His eyes shifted toward Rebecca. “Or maybe someone you know. You don’t want to waltz back into a situation that makes you a sitting duck.”

  “Ducks don’t sit, they float,” Vikki corrected him.

  Rebecca saw him suppress a grin. “My mistake,” Angus conceded.

  “All right, what do we do next?” Rebecca desperately wanted to be doing something more than just waiting for assorted bits of information to come drifting back to her.

  “After breakfast,” Angus told her, letting Vikki have the remainder of his sandwich, “I’ll check in with the police to see if anyone has filed a missing person report on you yet.”

  Yet. It was the key word she was hanging on. Yet meant someone was going to—if not now, eventually. And that meant that she belonged somewhere, with people who cared.

  “And if no one has?” It was a possibility Rebecca didn’t want to entertain.

  He’d already thought about that. “Then we go for a long drive.”

  Rebecca stared at him. Did that mean he just wanted to play a waiting game? Though she was grateful for everything he’d done up until now, this was her life they were talking about. And she was missing it. She couldn’t just sit here—or in the car—and let that continue.

  She wiped off the oil that had oozed onto her fingers through the red-and-white wrapper. “I don’t mean to be telling you your business, but shouldn’t we be doing something besides that?”

  “We will be,” he assured her. “We’ll be looking. Actually, you’ll be doing the bulk of that.” Because she didn’t seem to be following him, he elaborated. “I’m going to try to retrace your steps from my office to that alley where you said you came in. Maybe we’ll come across something that’ll help us find out who you are.”

  “Can I look, too?” Vikki piped up, as if she fully expected Angus to agree. She looked stunned and hurt when he didn’t.

  “Only at the television screen.” And he qualified that. “And only if Jenny isn’t watching some blood-and-guts movie on a cable station.”

  He didn’t like the idea of imposing sanctions. Jenny was basically a good-hearted woman who had taken instantly to Vikki. But Vikki was his daughter and he felt he had to protect her from some things.

  She squirmed in her seat, pouting. “Angus, I don’t want to have to stay home.”

  There was no room for discussion on this. “And I don’t want to have to worry about you when I’m out on a case.”

  Her lower lip stuck out even farther. “But
you said nobody ever shoots at you.”

  “They don’t,” he agreed amiably, then pointed out, “but somebody did shoot at Rebecca.”

  That reminder only made Vikki more fascinated with the possibilities that the adventure held—and more determined to go with him. “You think he could still be there, waiting for her to come back so he can jump out and—”

  “That’s enough, Vikki.” Angus cut her off sharply before she said something that would upset Rebecca. It was a wonder Vikki didn’t have nightmares with a vivid imagination like that. Angus pushed back his chair. “Now, if you’re finished, let’s go over to Jenny’s.”

  She left her bottom planted right where it was. “I could be a help,” Vikki protested.

  “Yes, you could.” Her face brightened. “And the biggest help you could be to me right now is setting my mind at ease that you’re safe.”

  Angry storm clouds gathered in her blue eyes. “I don’t want to be safe. I want to be with you.”

  She probably didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Angus thought—that her choice was to be with him. But just for the moment, he allowed himself to believe that’s what she meant. “And I want to be with you, Vik. But not when I think it’s dangerous for you to be around.”

  “She’s going,” Vikki said accusingly, jerking a thumb at Rebecca.

  “I have to,” Rebecca told her gently. She had no idea why she knew, but she understood the wrenching agony of feeling left behind. “But I’m the one who might make it dangerous.”

  “Then go away.” Vikki’s mouth shut in a firm, angry line.

  Rebecca looked at Angus. “Maybe I’d better—”

  It was the last straw. He wasn’t about to allow his life, or anyone else’s, to be dictated by a child. Even a child he’d grown to love very much.

  “You, stay here,” Angus instructed Rebecca. “You, come with me.” Taking Vikki firmly by the hand, he pulled her from her chair and ushered her out of the apartment. The silence they left behind was deafening.

  Guilt nibbled at Rebecca, making her forget her own situation for the time being. Angus and Vikki shouldn’t be arguing over her, she thought, as she got up from the table. Mechanically, she began clearing the dishes. From what Angus had told her, father and daughter were just beginning to form a bond, just beginning to become a unit. A family. She had no right to jeopardize that.

  But if Angus wasn’t there to help her, who was?

  Rebecca dumped the empty wrappers into the garbage. She bit her lower lip, trying not to give in to the lost feeling that was reaching for her again. Running on automatic pilot, she turned the water on and began washing the dishes.

  Angus was still trying to frame an apology when he walked back into the apartment. Vikki had gone to Jenny without another word, giving him the silent treatment—which, though easier on his ears, made him feel guilty instead of annoyed.

  That’s because he cared, he reminded himself. When he’d been a child, his not speaking had never had any effect on his father. The old man had actually seemed to prefer it that way. If they didn’t speak, they didn’t see the hundred little ways that they differed. The bottom line was that the old man hadn’t cared, and he had. And still did.

  Things would work themselves out eventually, he thought with an inward sigh.

  Right now, his immediate problem was Rebecca and her lost identity. More immediate than that was apologizing for Vikki’s rudeness. She didn’t need a child mouthing off at her and telling her to go away when she was in such a precarious, vulnerable state.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about—” Angus stopped abruptly when he saw what she was doing. “Why are you washing dishes? We ate out of paper cartons.”

  Paper cartons that were no longer on the table, he noticed. The table was actually cleared, as was the counter. He hadn’t been gone that long; how fast did this woman work?

  Rebecca shrugged carelessly as she rinsed off another plate. “Because they’re in the sink.” She lined the plates up neatly on the rack.

  He didn’t want her to think that she had to do that. “I was going to get to them.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, an amused smile playing on her lips. It made her beautiful, he thought. “When?”

  It took him a second to gather his thoughts. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be the one acting as if he had amnesia. “Someday.”

  That had a nebulous sound to it. “When the board of health comes by to condemn them?” She nodded toward the dishes drip-drying in the rack. “I found something green on one of them.”

  “That’s food coloring,” he said defensively. “Vikki was experimenting with it the other day. Wanted to see if she could dye the plate.”

  Vikki sounded like a handful. And just right for Angus. “Uh-huh. Well, it still needed to be cleaned.” She placed the last plate on the rack, angling it to fit. Angus really didn’t like to do dishes, she thought. “There, done.”

  Because there was no towel around, she quickly wiped her hands on the back of her jeans.

  “Thanks.” Angus realized he was staring at her hands as they brushed against her back pockets—and very tempting bottom. He drew his eyes away. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did,” she countered. Then, before he could protest further, she added, “I think I like to clean. It seems to help me calm down.”

  He laughed. “Then you’ve really come to the right place.” He scanned the area, looking at it through a stranger’s eyes. It did look a little as if a tornado had made a pit stop here on its way to Oz. “This place will positively anesthetize you if you give it a chance.”

  Rebecca pressed her lips together, wondering if she should butt in. After all, Vikki was none of her business. But the dispute had occurred because of her, she reasoned, and in a way that did make it her business. “Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  “Yeah. She has to learn that she can’t always have her way.”

  It was a struggle for him, she thought, being authoritative with a little girl. She could tell he didn’t like saying no to her. “But most of the time, she has you pretty well wrapped around her finger.”

  The laugh was self-deprecating. “Is it that obvious?”

  “The love is, yes. Most men would have trouble taking a seven-year-old into their lives, daughter or not.” He looked surprised. “I’m guessing,” she added. She was, but it was a guess based on instincts she was just beginning to rediscover.

  “I don’t know how most men would react—I only know what I believe. Every kid deserves to have their parents love them.”

  He said it with such solemn feeling that she had to ask. “Did yours?”

  Her question must have told him that he’d talked enough, she thought, maybe even too much. After all, it was her life they were trying to piece together, not his. He changed topics. “Are you ready to go?”

  It stung a little, but she accepted the rebuff. She’d probably ventured too far, she told herself. But it was all a learning process for her.

  Rebecca nodded in reply. There wasn’t anything to get ready. She spread her hands before her. “Yes. What you see is what you get.”

  What he saw, Angus thought, turning to open the door, was more than enough to satisfy any man.

  The next moment, he upbraided himself again for letting his mind wander. He wasn’t going to be any good to Rebecca if he allowed himself to veer off the track and start thinking of her as anything other than a client.

  But it was hard to think of her in neutral terms, not when she smelled this good, looked this inviting.

  As he got into the car, he noticed the concerned look on her face. Angus started the car and backed out. “What is it?”

  “Vikki’s last words keep replaying themselves in my mind,” she said. “You don’t really think that whoever was after me might still be there, do you?”

  So, he’d guessed right. Vikki had gotten to her. “No, that’s straight out of those movies Vikki and Jenny like to watch. I lef
t Vikki behind because she’d ask a million questions. If I was busy answering them, I might miss something.” His answer seemed to satisfy her. She relaxed a little beside him. “If we find the place again,” he qualified.

  And that, he knew, was a big if. But at the moment he had nothing else to go on if the police hadn’t received a missing person report on her.

  Rebecca kept pace with Angus as they left the police station, trying to harness the impatience she felt inside her—like a rodeo mustang pawing the ground, eager to shoot out of the stall, yearning to be free. She had prepared herself for this, for there not being any news on her. Had told herself chances were slim to none that a missing person report on her would turn up.

  Still, she’d gone into the station hoping.

  Angus could feel her frustration. It mirrored his own.

  “It could still happen,” he told her as they both got into his car. “Someone could still file a report on you.”

  “Why later? Why not already?”

  He could sense that she was trying not to let her voice break.

  He went over the reasons. “Everybody who knows you might think you’re somewhere else, with somebody else. Signals get crossed, messages get misunderstood.” There was a whole host of possibilities. None that she liked, he noticed. “Maybe you were on your way to catch a plane for a vacation. Everyone thinks you’re away and won’t wonder where you are for a couple of weeks.”

  “Or there is no one in my life,” she said, studying her nails.

  He didn’t believe that for a minute. “Someone as beautiful as you are has to have someone in her life.”

  The certainty in his voice surprised her. As did the pleasure it created to hear him call her beautiful.

  “You don’t,” she pointed out.

  He laughed as he made a left turn onto a busy street. The car behind him came up too close. Angus pulled ahead, noting its license plate, just in case. He’d developed a knack of reading things backward. “You saying I’m beautiful?”

  Rebecca felt color—or maybe it was just heat—creeping up her neck to her face. She didn’t want to sound as if she was flirting. But that was exactly the way it did sound to her.