She's My Mom

by Rebecca Winters

  When they’d left the house, she’d been a brunette dressed up in Susan’s clothes. But with the restoration of her blond hair, a new nightmare had presented itself. Not only did she look at her husband and son as strangers, her life was in danger all over again.

  No one said a word.

  Grady drove through the streets to the freeway and headed north. Forty-five minutes later he came to the turnoff. “I think it’s safe for you to sit up now, Susan. We’ll grab a bite to eat here in Glendale, then drive to Moapa.”

  The next time he glanced in the rearview mirror, their eyes met. Hers slid away as if she couldn’t face this excruciating new tension that had sprung up between them.

  He found a drive-in and pulled to a stop. A waitress came out the swinging door to their car. “What does everyone want?”

  “I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries and a root beer,” Brett said at once.

  “Me, too,” Susan murmured. “Make that two of everything.”

  “But you didn’t used to like cheeseburgers.”

  “She likes them now, son,” Grady warned, hoping he didn’t sound as out of control as he felt. He gave the young woman his own order.

  Lunch was another quiet affair that couldn’t end too soon for him. He ate in a hurry, then flashed his lights for the waitress to take away the window tray.

  “Does any of this look familiar to you?” he asked his wife an hour or so later. They’d come to Moapa, a community of about fifteen hundred people. Grady had visited it before on police business.

  “Yes,” Susan said, “but I couldn’t tell you which house belongs to the Benns. There are more ranch-style brick homes than I’d realized.”

  “No problem. I’ll talk to the tribal police and get the address. Since it’s a Saturday, we might be in luck and catch the Benns at home.”

  As it turned out, the female dispatcher was the only one around, although the two officers on duty could be back anytime. Fortunately she knew the Benns and gave him directions.

  Grady thanked her and went back to the car. It didn’t take long to find the right house.

  “I don’t see their truck.”

  He heard the disappointment in his wife’s voice. “Maybe one of them’s inside.”

  “I hope so. If you don’t mind, I think I’d better go to the door first.”

  “I was going to suggest it.” The Benns would open it faster to her than to a stranger.

  To his relief, a woman appeared on the porch, dressed in jeans and a plaid blouse. He watched in fascination as Susan engaged her in a long conversation. Eventually he saw her put her arms around the other woman and give her a hug.

  Soon she pointed to the car.

  “Come on, Brett. Let’s meet the woman who saved your mom’s life.” He climbed out of the car. After retrieving the gifts from the trunk, they walked up to the porch.

  The other woman smiled. “Hello.”

  “Mrs. Benn? As I’m sure Susan told you, I’m her husband, Grady, and this is our son, Brett. We’re indebted to you for your kindness to her. She wouldn’t be with us today otherwise.”

  “My husband and I were happy to help. I hear your son found her in a hotel by accident.”

  “I did.” Brett beamed. “Thanks for taking care of my mom.” He put the vase of flowers on the porch and shook her hand.

  Grady did the same thing with the fruit basket, then gave her the box of candy.

  Her eyes widened. “What’s all this?”

  “It’s our way of saying thank you,” Grady told her.

  “Joseph will be surprised when he gets back from Overton.” Her keen gaze rested on Susan once more. “Let me see your head.” She parted her hair to examine the place where she’d been struck. “I’ve seen injuries like yours before. Your memory will come back.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “There’s no dent.”

  Hoping the woman’s prediction was right, Grady put an arm around his son. “Do you think your husband could show me where you found Susan? I’d like to look around.”

  “He already did that with the police in August. They didn’t find anything. No tire tracks, no clothes or jewelry. But two days ago we heard through the tribal police that a man’s body showed up on the banks of the Muddy River. Nobody knew who he was, or how long he’d been there.”

  Grady’s head reared back. “How far was it from the place where you came across Susan?”

  “Maybe a mile.”

  “Were they able to tell if he was Caucasian?”

  “Who knows? The FBI took over. The police said it couldn’t have been anyone in our community because no one’s missing.”

  Susan’s eyes flicked to Grady’s. He knew they were both thinking it might be LeBaron.

  “What you’ve just told us could be vital to my wife’s case. Thank you.” He shook her hand again. “We’re going to drive over to the clinic now to thank the doctor who examined her.”

  “It’s too late. They close at four-thirty.”

  Grady glanced at his watch, surprised that it showed ten after five. The day had gotten away from them.

  “If there’s anything we can do for you, Mrs. Benn, please call or write. I put our name, address and phone number on the card inside the basket.”

  “Thank you. Come again on a Sunday when Joseph’s here.”

  “We will,” he and Susan declared at the same time.

  “Bye,” Brett called over his shoulder.

  “She’s a terrific person,” Grady said as the three of them returned to the car. “Too bad her husband wasn’t home to show us where they found you. I’d still like to see it—and the place where the other body was found.”

  “I’m sure she won’t mind if we come back tomorrow.”

  “I might do that.”

  Brett frowned at him. “Why won’t you bring us with you?”

  “Because I want you and your mother to stay home where you’ll be safe. Today’s outing was an exception.”

  When he opened the back door for Susan, she sent him an imploring glance. “Do you think Maureen liked what we gave her?”

  “She might not be as demonstrative as you, but I saw her eyes light up. Of course she was pleased.”

  “I appreciate your buying those things for her, Grady. I’m so grateful to them both.”

  “I am, too,” he said abruptly.

  He hadn’t meant to seem harsh, but every time she thanked him, it seemed to widen the gap between them. Her stricken expression was more than he could tolerate.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she begged. “Let’s have an understanding that if we say and do things to put each other on edge, it isn’t on purpose.”

  That was something the old Susan would’ve said. My wife, the peacemaker.

  Grady’s torment came from trying to adapt to this dual woman who was fighting a battle no one but another amnesiac could understand. She needed time, and gentleness…. It was difficult for him to restrain his impatience and his rage over what had happened to her.

  “Agreed. Let’s go. By the time we reach Mrs. Harmon’s, it’ll be dark. I don’t want to arouse the neighbors’ suspicion because she’s dropping by our house too late.”

  Grady was anxious to get home for another reason—so he could put in a call to his friend Boyd Lowry. The local FBI agent could access information about the body that had been found. Until Grady knew what he was up against with Susan’s case, he didn’t want anyone to learn she was alive. He decided to let Boyd believe he was working on a new investigation.

  “Hey, Dad? Can we stop in Glendale and get a drink?”

  “Sure.”

  Once they left Moapa, they picked up speed.

  “Does Mom have to scrunch down again when we reach the freeway?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “I don’t mind, Brett.”

  “Your mom’s a trouper, isn’t she?”

  SUSAN WAS NO TROUPER. She
was doing whatever it took to survive. There’d been several moments today with Grady when she’d started shivering from the tension. Emotionally exhausted, she lay on the floor of the car and let them do the talking.

  Brett had dozens of questions about the Moapa-Paiute culture. She listened in fascination as her husband answered each one, exhibiting an impressive amount of knowledge on the subject. When he left off talking to phone Mrs. Harmon and let her know they were almost there, Susan was disappointed.

  Before long, she felt the car turn and then they were entering a garage. As Grady shut off the engine, she heard the door close behind them.

  “Okay. We’ve been through the drill. You all know what to do. Introductions will come later.”

  Susan got out of the car and ran around to the back of Mrs. Harmon’s car, where Grady had opened the trunk. With his help she climbed in. He lowered the lid until her fingers could hold on to it.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “I don’t like the idea of you riding in there, but I need to be in the back of the car in case there’s a problem.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “That’s like asking me to stop breathing.”

  It’s the same for me, Grady.

  “Poor Mrs. Harmon. She has to drive us.”

  “She’s so happy for us, she wants to do everything she can to help. This will be over in a few minutes. Our house is only two miles from here.” His hand reached out to grasp hers for a moment. The contact sent unexpected warmth through her body. “See you at home.”

  What was it Tina had said? He’s the kind of man you want to take home and keep forever.

  The ride to Green Valley was uncomfortable for Susan, but it went without incident. Still, she counted the seconds until she felt the car slow down and make a turn. A moment later she heard the telltale sound of a garage door opening. She heaved a sigh of relief, knowing freedom was imminent.

  Once they were enclosed in the garage, Grady was there to lift her out. He was remarkably strong. “Home safe and sound,” he whispered against her cheek before setting her on her feet.

  It took every bit of self-control not to throw her arms around him….

  Oblivious to her inner thoughts, he put a finger to his lips. The four of them entered the house in absolute silence.

  Certain lights had been left on, including the one in the hall. This was the first opportunity for Susan to get a good look at Mrs. Harmon. She was a short, attractive widow of about sixty with light brown hair and eyes. They shook hands, then impulsively embraced.

  Whispering, the older woman expressed her happiness that Susan was alive and well, and hoped her memory would come back soon. Susan in turn whispered her praise for the other woman’s care of her family during such a difficult period.

  They moved to the kitchen. Susan made sandwiches and cut up fruit, which they ate quickly, keeping their voices low. Afterward, Mrs. Harmon went about the business of bringing in the newspaper and the mail. When she was ready to go home, Grady walked her to the garage.

  Brett helped Susan clean up the kitchen. With that accomplished, she took the calendar off the wall and they headed for the stairs. Grady wasn’t far behind.

  Their son disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her alone with her husband in the guest bedroom.

  His eyes played over her face and figure, then settled on the calendar with a look of surprise. “What are you doing with that?”

  “I thought the three of us could go through it and you could tell me what everything means.”

  After a prolonged silence, he said, “I could never throw it away. Your handwriting…” His voice faltered.

  “I’m so glad you didn’t! This will help give me a sense of myself, of our life together.”

  “You don’t know how many times I’ve pored over it looking for anything that could tell me who was responsible for planting those bombs. Now that you’re back, we’ll go over it again and again. Maybe something will trigger your memory.”

  She nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping. Why don’t we get ready for bed, then you come in here and we’ll start.”

  A few minutes later, he and Brett appeared in the entry wearing pajamas. Susan sat on the bed in her nightgown and robe. She patted the top of the mattress. “Come on. Let’s dive in, shall we?”

  For the next hour they helped her get a clear picture of the life she’d led before the explosion. Until she’d gone to work, it appeared she’d spent her days cleaning, cooking, gardening, chauffeuring Brett to his many activities. She also attended meetings for charitable committees and community organizations; Grady had told her she’d done accounting work for some of them. The many names and phone numbers were all making sense, now.

  She learned that as a rule their family attended a local church on Sundays. Their pastor had been the one to conduct her memorial service.

  “I’ve been going to a church.”

  Grady couldn’t hide his astonishment. “Where?”

  “St. Vincent’s. It’s where Paquita goes. Actually, I went to confession so I could talk to the priest about my fears. He told me to keep praying and never give up hope. One day I’d like to thank him for his help.”

  Brett darted her a perplexed glance. “You sang in our church choir, Mom.”

  “Did I?”

  “You’re a music lover,” Grady said. “We went to the symphony whenever we could.”

  There was so much to absorb, but she’d have to ponder everything later. “What’s this notation, bring a salad?”

  It turned out they belonged to a neighborhood swimming pool, where the three of them often swam during family hour in the early evenings. Once a month there was an outdoor barbecue around the pool.

  “That’s where I take swimming lessons.” This came from Brett, who lay across the end of the bed with his eyes closed. “Next week I’m going to try out for the swim team.”

  “I’ll bet you’re the best one.”

  “Nope. There are a lot of kids faster than me.”

  “You’re getting stronger all the time, Brett, but you know what? You’ve been trying to stay awake for the last fifteen minutes. It’s time for bed.”

  With a resigned “Okay, Dad,” he got up bleary-eyed and came around the side to kiss Susan good-night. Then he gave Grady a hug and disappeared.

  “Thank heaven Brett had you,” she whispered. “He’s so wonderful.”

  “You’re the reason why. Don’t give me any credit. Since the accident, I’ve been the world’s worst father, but that’s another story.”

  His self-deprecation wounded her. Knowing he’d refuse comfort from her, she looked down at the calendar again.

  From an earlier conversation she already knew she’d belonged to a group of detectives’ wives. According to the record here, they met every two weeks and volunteered at local hospitals.

  Her life sounded full and rich. If her decision to get a job stemmed from a desire to do more with her life, then why didn’t she tell her husband that before she applied for work?

  The excuse that she wanted to find out if she could support herself and Brett if anything happened to Grady simply didn’t answer the question. There had to be a reason she’d been so secretive.

  “This woman, Jennifer?” Susan tapped the calendar. “Her name appears a lot.”

  “She and Ellen Stevens were your two closest friends. Jennifer’s a member of the Detectives’ Wives Association. Her husband, Matt Ross, is a friend and colleague.”

  “Did we do things with them socially?”

  “Not often.”

  His comment was a little too offhand to let go.

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?”

  At her question, Grady’s eyes narrowed on her face. “Amnesia has sharpened your ability to perceive certain things. You and I never talked about her, but the fact is, she was jealous of you.”

  “Why?”

&nbs
p; “Everyone liked you. You were always friendly and got along well with people. A lot of men found you attractive. Matt was one of them.”

  She frowned. “Did he make a play for me or something?”

  “No. Nothing like that, but Jennifer’s an insecure person. I have an idea she’d built it up in her mind over a long period.”

  “How sad.”

  “I have no real proof. It’s just something I sensed more and more as time went on, particularly at the association dinner with the husbands.”

  “You mean the one I marked down on the calendar at the beginning of March?” She flipped back to it.

  He nodded.

  “That was right before I went to work, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you ever discuss her with me?”

  “Because you liked Jennifer and appeared oblivious to her insecurities. I didn’t want to say anything that could change your feelings about her.”

  “But you were my husband. I would’ve thought we shared everything, no matter what.”

  “Not where she was concerned.” He lowered his eyes.

  Susan sat up straighter. “Tell me about her. Is she attractive?”

  “She’s an average-looking brunette. Slim.”

  “How many children do they have?”

  “Two. They’re both in high school.”

  “What’s she like as a person?”

  He took his time answering. “She strikes me as someone driven.”

  “Is she home all day or does she have a job?”

  “The last I knew, she was working as a part-time secretary for an office-supply company.”

  “Do a lot of your colleagues’ wives have jobs outside the home?”

  “Most of them. More often than not, you were the one called upon to fill in when someone couldn’t get off work to do their part volunteering. It’s my opinion that Jennifer took advantage of your good nature.”

  “You think she saw me as spoiled? Someone who didn’t have enough to do?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Maybe deep down she disliked me more than either of us knew.”

  “Enough to do you bodily harm?” he asked. “No. But in my darkest hour, the thought did cross my mind.”

  She fingered the edge of the calendar absently. “Was she attracted to you?”