He crossed the room to where she sat and pulled up the chair beside her.
Seeing him up close she knew that their weeks apart had been as stressful for him as for her. His eyes were deeply shadowed, his expression grim.
She placed the book on the table beside her and instinctively reached out to touch him. Realizing what she had done, she paused with her hand hovering between them. "Hello, Raoul."
He grasped her hand like a drowning man and held it tightly, his gaze scanning her features. "How have you been?" he asked, his voice sounding rusty from disuse.
"I'm all right. How is Sherye?"
He gazed at her bleakly. "There's no change in her condition. I've spent every day of the past two weeks dealing with the Australian legal and hospital systems in an effort to have her released to my care. The red tape was indescribable. They could fill a thick book with transcripts of the multitude of interviews and interrogations I went through." He shook his head. "I never want to go through anything like that again."
"Where is she now?"
"I placed her in a hospital near the chateau. The doctors there have reviewed all her medical information. They refuse to make any predictions about the possibility of a full recovery." He shifted in the chair although he continued to hold her hand. She needed that small contact with him. His touch had always been able to soothe her.
"Do they know what caused the coma?"
He'd been absently studying her hand, and looked up at her question. "Oh, yes. She suffered a drug overdose. It seems someone was keeping her well supplied."
"Did you find out how she came to be in Perth?"
Once again he nodded. "We found out for certain a few days ago. It seems that she and a group of her friends were invited to spend the summer on a friend's yacht. They were under the impression that I knew where she was and didn't care. It's possible that she at least implied by her behavior that our marriage was over. I've spoken to Ted Andrews, one of the men who helped to get her to the hospital. He had to face police questioning once they found him because of the way Ted and the other man abandoned her at the hospital. By the time the police finished with Ted he was quite shaken. When I spoke with him and explained her present condition and my lack of knowledge regarding her whereabouts, he reluctantly agreed to tell me as much as he knew.
"He was understandably embarrassed to discuss the matter with me. I understood why when he explained that Sherye had boarded the yacht with a man she introduced as Mario, claiming that he was an old friend of hers and that she'd brought him along as her guest. It quickly became apparent to all those on board that she was flagrantly indulging in a flaming affair with him. None of them had ever seen him before and didn't know what to think of her behavior.
"When Mario found Sherye unconscious and reported it to the others, the ship's captain took them to the nearest port, which happened to be Fremantle. To avoid having to answer questions, Ted and Mario slipped ashore with Sherye without going through official entry procedures. They flagged down a taxi and got her to the hospital.
"When Ted heard Mario tell the nurse he was going to move their car, Ted realized Mario's intentions and that he would be left to answer any questions about Sherye's condition. He admitted to me that he panicked and got out of there as soon as he could.''
Raoul stated the facts and events coolly, giving no indication that he was emotionally involved with the woman he was discussing. She wondered how he could be so objective in the telling of what had happened.
Perhaps he still intended to divorce Sherye. She had certainly given him ample provocation. She reminded herself that it wasn't any of her business what he did. The DuBois family was no longer her concern. Not anymore.
"Have the police spoken to Mario?"
"No. They can't find him. He never returned to the yacht, not even to pack his belongings. I understand the owner of the yacht received a note requesting his things be shipped to a post office address in France. When local police checked, the box was no longer in use."
"Are you going to try to find him on your own?"
"It would be difficult, since they aren't certain he used his real name. I believe it would be a waste of time at this point. I have no reason to speak to him. According to Ted, he and Sherye spent most of their time on board away from the others. I think one of the reasons he bolted was because if s a good bet he was the one supplying her with drugs. If that's the case he's going to make sure his tracks are covered. He can't afford to be questioned."
"Do you have any idea how I became involved with all of this?"
He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Only Sherye and possibly this Mario can explain how you came to be in her car. The authorities are now checking into the possibility that your accident may have been faked, that you might have been drugged and placed there. If so, whoever hit you on the head didn't know his own strength. That blow alone could have killed you.''
"Drugged?" she repeated faintly.
"Yes. There were traces of a chemical in your bloodstream when you were first admitted that may have been an experimental drug currently being tested. LeBeau has been asking questions of the doctors, trying to find out more about it. He spoke with chemists and other scientists, who've concurred that the drug could have created lapses in your memory."
She shivered. "An experimental drug. How awful. I could have died there at the scene. Did whoever planned this scheme consider that? Did they care? What were they hoping to accomplish?"
"LeBeau and I have been trying to find a workable theory that covers all the facts we've gathered so far. One theory is that Sherye wanted to cover up the fact that she was going on that cruise. Her behavior these last several months has been increasingly difficult to deal with. We rarely saw each other. When we did, we ended up arguing. On one occasion I told her I wanted a divorce. She threatened to create a scandal if I pursued the idea. She didn't pretend that she wanted anything other than my money and social standing, but that was enough for her. However, she took me seriously and for a while her behavior improved to some degree. I believe that she wanted to go on that cruise and she knew I wouldn't tolerate the idea. That I would divorce her, despite her threats. Somehow, some way, she came up with an idea that would create a smoke screen to cover what she was really doing by providing someone who would be mistaken for her—at least on a temporary basis. Knowing Sherye, she probably expected to get away with it."
Such a mess and there seemed to be no end to it. She felt so helpless, knowing there was nothing that she could do to make things any easier.
"The part that has been so confusing for me," she said, "is how Sherye got me to participate in the plan. I can't imagine ever agreeing to pretend to be someone else. Even if I had, what assurance did she have that I wouldn't change my mind and tell you the truth?"
"You'd have to know Sherye to understand the way her mind works. She makes up her own rules, changing them to fit her whims. If she got. caught, she probably figured she could talk her way out of any problem it might have caused. She has a history of being able to get her own way. She probably enjoyed the challenge of trying it in order to see if she could get away with it."
"I'm beginning to understand your attitude toward me when I first recovered consciousness."
"LeBeau thinks you were given a drug that would induce at least a temporary amnesia to lessen the odds against my finding out that you weren't Sherye."
"You mean she counted on my not being able to remember anything?"
"Or at least you'd be confused and disoriented, which could be attributed to the injury you'd supposedly sustained as a result of the accident. All of it would buy her time."
She shuddered. "To go to such extremes just to have a few weeks away from her family. Such an elaborate ruse doesn't make sense."
"Not to me or you, perhaps. Remember, that's just one of the theories. There are others. We'll have to see what additional facts turn up in the investigation." Still holding her hand, he touched her cheek with his other h
and. "Enough about Sherye. I came to see you to make certain you were all right and to tell you how sorry I am that I couldn't stay with you the day I received the phone call from Perth."
"I didn't expect you to stay with me! Of course you had to go. She's your wife. The shock had to have been as great for you as it was for me." She looked down at their clasped hands, feeling his warmth and concern for her, fighting the almost overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms and cling to his strength.
"We need to talk about what happened between us," he said in a low voice. When she didn't look up, he brushed his knuckles under her chin and raised her head until she was forced to meet his gaze.
"What is there to say?" she managed to say. "It happened. You thought you were reconciling with your wife. At least," she added with a tiny shrug of feigned indifference, "you discovered the difference once I was in your bed." She could feel the heat of her embarrassment sweep over her body.
His eyes darkened. "Yes. Given time to think about it, I would have known you couldn't possibly be Sherye."
She fought to hang on to her composure—determined not to let him know how much his words hurt—until she realized what he was saying to her.
"You were too open, too honest in your responses to be Sherye. You wrapped me in your flaming warmth and showed me what lovemaking could be—a free expression of pleasing and giving pleasure. You set me on fire and I lost all control but it didn't matter. I'd never experienced anything like it before. Sherye never had that effect on me, even at the beginning of our relationship."
He touched her cheek with his thumb and wiped away a tear. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
"When you told me that morning that you knew I wasn't Sherye when you made love to me, I thought I'd disappointed you. I—"
"On the contrary, you showed me what real lovemaking is all about. I woke up the next morning knowing I'd learned something valuable about myself and about you. I couldn't wait for you to wake— But then the phone rang and I discovered the new life I thought I'd discovered was an illusion. Nothing had been real. Except you."
She saw the pain he'd tried to mask and she ached with the need to hold him, to tell him how much that night with him had meant to her. She was touched beyond measure that he had shared his feelings about that night with her. He didn't owe her any explanations, but hearing them made such a difference to her bruised heart.
"Thank you for telling me this, Raoul. It helps, somehow, to know that what I felt that night wasn't one-sided."
They'd had one night together, a night that had opened her eyes to all that she felt for this man. She didn't regret it, not for a moment, but she knew that because of the circumstances, he didn't want to be reminded of what had happened. She cast around in her mind for another subject.
"How are the children?"
"Confused."
"Yes. Of course they would be."
"It's difficult to explain to them what happened and why, since we don't have many answers. It's particularly difficult when they ask questions, since we know so little about you."
"Not even my name or how I came to be in France."
"LeBeau is working on that."
"Yes. He calls almost daily to check with me and see what more I might have remembered."
"You must have friends somewhere who are frantic to know what happened to you."
"I can only recall the one name—Janine."
"Do you think there's a possibility that it's your name?"
"Danielle and I discussed that, but I really don't think so. I see a face, a laughing face, whenever I think of the name."
"I wish there was something more I could do for you."
She forced herself to smile and say, "You're paying for my stay here, which is very generous of you, considering that I was part of a plan to dupe you."
"An unwilling part, I'm sure."
"How can you be so sure? Perhaps Sherye paid me to pretend, then later made certain I wouldn't betray her."
"That possibility has already been offered. I'm ashamed to admit that I briefly considered the idea, but I know better."
"But how? You know nothing about me."
"During the past two weeks I've had a great deal of time to think about all that has happened. It's true that I don't know your name, nor do I know how you became involved. What I realized was how much I've learned about you during the weeks we've been together. I watched you very closely, remember, convinced at first that you were putting on an act for reasons of your own. Gradually, however, I began to see how your mind works. Had I been completely honest with myself I would have admitted—at least to myself—that you couldn't possibly be Sherye. You are incapable of deceit."
"Then you know me better than I know myself." She looked away from him. "I've lain awake nights wondering not only who I am, but what kind of person I am. How could I be a part of something so shameful, involving the children, and Danielle and Felicity, not to mention the problems all of this has caused you? It's so scary, this not knowing."
"Let me reassure you, then. Your name-doesn't matter. What matters is how you live your life. I watched you day after day being gentle and kind to those around you who were being harsh and unkind to you. You accepted everyone in the family despite their strong judgments of you. You were not only recovering from a physical and emotional setback, you were attempting to find your way around an alien life-style, if we'd but known, and yet you never took your frustrations out on any of us."
She didn't know what to say.
"I don't know who you are, but I know that during the weeks I spent with you I came to admire you very much. You've become a part of me, a very special part. Regardless of what happens, I want you to know that I will always be your friend. If you ever need any thing... anything at all... I want you to contact me. You've taught me and you've taught my children to embrace life with open arms, to enjoy each and every day. Having you with us has been the only bright spot in our lives for a long while. There's nothing that I could do that would adequately repay you. I can only offer you my thanks and my friendship."
"Oh, Raoul," she said, her voice breaking.
He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to assure you that whatever happens, I don't want you to feel that you have no one to turn to. We want to be your family."
She pulled away from him, holding his hands in hers in an attempt to control her emotionally intense reaction. She couldn't handle being so close to him much longer without giving in to her need to cling to him. She did not have that right. She was not his wife. She was the impostor.
"Thank you for coming to see me, Raoul," she said in an attempt to bring his visit to a close. "It was quite a distance for you to come and I appreciate it."
"So you're sending me away," he said ruefully.
"Yes, because you have other responsibilities now. I don't want to be another one. I appreciate more than I can possibly tell you the fact you came to see me in the midst of getting Sherye settled and dealing with the aftermath of all that has happened. I, too, am grateful to have had the time with you and your family. All of you have added so much to my life. I will never forget you."
He squeezed her hand and reluctantly stood. She followed his movement, not realizing until she stood beside him that she was much too close to him. Hastily she stepped back before she made a fool of herself.
She clasped her hands in front of her. "Take care going home. Give the children my love. I miss them very much."
He stuck his hands into his pockets. "I'm in daily contact with LeBeau, so I will be able to keep up with the way his investigation progresses. In the meantime, please remember—if you need anything.. .anything at all.. .call me."
He started toward the door, paused for a moment with his back to her, then turned and in a couple of steps was back in front of her. In an achingly familiar gesture he placed the palms of his hands along her jawline and tipped her face up to his. Disgu
sted with her lack of willpower, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to savor the touch of his lips on hers for one last time.
With a muffled sound she curved her arms around his waist and held him while his gentle kiss deepened and changed into a searing statement of their explosive emotions.
When he stepped away from her, she was visibly trembling. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth when he brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear.
"Take care of yourself," he murmured.
"I hope Sherye's condition improves soon. I know you'll help her to heal, just as you did me."
She watched him walk out of the room and knew he was walking out of her life, as well. It was necessary. It was the only thing to do. At least they'd had this chance to meet once more, a chance to give their relationship a sense of closure.
She was the only one who knew that when he left, he took her heart with him.
Chapter 13
Her name was Alisha Conrad. She lived at 412 Apache Way in Dallas, Texas. At the moment she was somewhere over the Atlantic, flying to New York with connections to Dallas.
Alisha sighed, wishing she could sleep, tired of thinking about all she had learned about herself in the past few weeks.
The continued regime at the hospital had helped her, but it was Claude LeBeau who had established her missing identity.
His search regarding Sherye DuBois's early childhood had netted as many questions as it had gained results. Convinced it was no mere coincidence that two women could look so startlingly alike, he had gone back to birth records, looking for twin births, adoptions, anything that would give him reasons to suppose that the women were related.
There were no twins born on April 10 of that year, but he had found Sherye's birth certificate easily enough. She'd been born at home to Thelma Hopkins. In the space listed for father's name was the word unknown.
What caught his attention was the mother's listed occupation—midwife.
He had systematically followed the records of every baby girl born on or about that date in Dallas County, hiring researchers to follow every lead until they found similar statistics and descriptions.
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