by Sable Hunter
“I have already placed a couple of calls. We have to be careful. Not everyone can be trusted.”
“Money can buy silence.”
He nodded, agreeing. Money could buy a lot of things, but some people could not be bought. Taking a sip of a mimosa, Juan seemed to contemplate his next question. “And what will you do if he remembers?”
Martina smiled. No one would ever accuse the good doctor of being a fool. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll do everything in my power to make him forget.”
***
Westin Resort, Grand Cayman, the next day
When the plane touched down on the island, Noah had a driver pick them up and carry them to the hotel. Zane and Presley were on their way also. Soon a whole contingency of McCoys and their friends would descend on Grand Cayman. They were about to turn heaven and earth upside down to find Aron.
Noah dreaded seeing Libby. Knowing how much she loved him, her heartbreak was going to be hard to witness. All of them were worried, but he was feeling numb. None of this seemed real. When they pulled into the Westin, a group of emergency workers were standing by, waiting to brief the family on what had transpired.
As Libby had informed them, Aron had last been seen by his wife while snorkeling off Seven Mile Beach. No one had witnessed him returning to shore. But more importantly, no body had been found.
Jacob made his way to Libby, first. They found her on the beach. When Jacob saw her standing there gazing out to sea, it just paralyzed him. “Libby.”
At the sound of his voice, she jerked around. “Aron!” When her eyes finally registered it was Jacob, she stumbled, nearly falling. “Your voice sounds so much like his. I thought it was him.” He came to her and she went into his arms, allowing her brother-in-law to comfort her. “Why did this happen, Jacob?” She began to cry. “I don’t understand.”
He hugged her, trying to absorb her grief and fear. “We’ll find him, Libby.”
Relieved to have someone with her, Libby began pouring out the story, telling Jacob about their dive and what they had done. “We’d only been out there about an hour when I noticed he was no longer with me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I had swum off to one side, looking at fish. If I’d only stayed near him, never taken my eyes off of him, he’d still be here.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Libby. Aron is a grown man.” Jacob did know Aron hated the water, that he’d agreed to go snorkeling at all was a surprise. “Let’s go up to the hotel and get you something to eat. We’re all here to be with you, and we’ve already put a lot of things into motion.” He began to tell her about the search and rescue efforts and who all they had contacted. “I can promise you we’ll search high and low for Aron. None of us are ready to give him up.”
***
Onboard the Isabella
Proficient at tying up loose ends of potential problems, Martina used the time before the helicopter came wisely. After she dressed, she made sure Aron had clothes. There was one crewman about the same size, so she gathered jeans and shirts for him to wear. As incapacitated as he was, she didn’t foresee him needing them until they were out of the hospital and on their way to Los Banos, but she wanted to have the appearance of his being a passenger on board the yacht, just in case he roused enough to notice.
Her plan was to make it appear as if he’d been living with her for quite some time. She’d gone online and did some research on cases of amnesia caused by head injury. There was no guideline or guarantee of how long his memories would elude him. His amnesia could last from hours to years. By the time his hospital stay was over, she would have her act together. But right now, she decided to take out a little insurance policy. Retrieving Aron’s dive suit and mask from the trash, she went to the kitchen and smeared beef blood on it, tossing them both overboard, wrapped around the largest mackerel in the refrigerator. No one questioned. No one stopped her. No one even dared make eye contact with the Diosa. What Martina Delgado wanted, Martina got. And right now, she wanted Aron McCoy.
***
Waves of agony crashed against his skull. He felt like his eyes were going to explode out of his head. This was no headache, this was torture. Throwing up seemed imminent, but it would kill him. The pain was just too excruciating. God, he needed to take a piss. Going on himself was humiliating, but there was no way he could move. He could barely open his eyes. The light coming through the window speared through his brain like knives. Through the haze of pain, he could make out a man standing over a table set for two. “Where am I?”
“At sea, Señor.” The information was offered with an easy nonchalance as the waiter folded a napkin and laid it next to a place setting of gleaming crystal and china.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You almost drowned.” The man was impeccably dressed in a black and white uniform.
“I don’t remember.” He started to rub his hand over his face, then realized he was clasping something hard in the palm of his hand. In fact he’d held onto it so tightly, the edges had cut into his palm. There was blood. Aron turned the coin over and over, looking at it through pain glazed eyes. It was old, looked to be made of gold with a woman’s face on it. A beautiful face. He stared at it. A longing for something or someone rose up inside of him. He was lonely. “Do I have someone here with me?”
“Our Diosa will take care of you.”
The waiter moved toward him. Quickly, he closed his hand, lest the stranger see what he was holding. This coin meant something to him. Was he a treasure hunter? That didn’t sound right. But what the hell did he know? He didn’t even know his own name. “Who the hell is Diosa?”
“I am.” A cultured voice with the same Latin lilt as the waiter caused him to jerk his head around. Damn! That hurt. “We are on our way to Mexico City to get you some help, Amor.”
Amor? He raised his eyes to take in the image of the woman standing next to him. She was beautiful, stacked, elegant, with perfect make-up, perfect features and a wide smile. An expectant look was in her eyes. She placed a hand on his arm.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
She looked disappointed. “Very well. I’ll get you some help.”
In a few seconds, she returned with a man who worked to help him stand. But as soon as he was on his feet, a blinding shaft of pain caused him to groan and sink to his knees.
“Help him!” She urged.
Blackness rolled toward him as bile rose in his throat. With horrid heaves, he emptied his stomach all over the pristine floor. He remembered nothing, but this was not his finest hour, that much he knew.
Chapter Three
Westin Resort – Grand Cayman – a few days later
“The bay has been searched. The reef has been searched. No remains have been found.” Roscoe reported to Jacob. “I suggest we move our focus on shore.” Representatives from the family, hired search teams, volunteer efforts and island authorities were all meeting in a conference room at the Westin hotel.
“How’s Libby?” Bowie Travis asked. He’d arrived, not too long after the family, and had been busy directing a team of local divers called Blue Hope.
“She’s in our room. The physician was concerned the stress might cause problems with her pregnancy. He gave her something to make her rest.” By way of explanation, Jacob offered. “We couldn’t get her to return to the honeymoon suite. I’ve had her things moved in with me and Jessie.”
“Understandable.” Roscoe nodded.
“What do you think happened?” Jacob couldn’t help but ask. Aron was young, strong...he just couldn’t make sense of it.
“Right now, we just don’t know.” Roscoe looked out the window at the blue Caribbean Sea. “Believe me, I’m struggling with it, too. But we can’t assume anything.”
“I agree. Something about this doesn’t seem right.” As Jacob watched the wave’s crash on the shore, a chill passed over him. “Aron,” he whispered. “Don’t give up. We’ll find you.”
***
At ABC Hospita
l – Mexico City
The Diosa paced in the waiting room. Two of her bodyguards stood at the door. They were armed to the teeth, but no one would know by looking at them. Alessandra sat by the window, leafing through a magazine. She looked more like a model than anyone Martina knew. She was willowy, delicate and graceful beyond compare. At four years younger, she was the pet of the family, yet her personality remained unspoiled and giving. There was nothing Martina would not do for her sister. Nothing.
Her uncle, Esteban, had been notified of Martina’s decision to take a risk by bringing a true outsider into their midst. He had strong opinions, most of them negative, and Martina knew he was correct. Their whole operation was, in many ways, a house of cards. They depended on loyalty, luck and courage. Not only were the competing cartels out to take them down, now there was a renegade politician, the new Mexican District Attorney who was making loud noises about eradicating narco land. It was getting harder and harder to make a decent, illegal living anymore. Her thought made her smile. Sometimes Martina wished she led a normal life—home, husband, family, fixing meals and changing diapers. But the notion didn’t last long. She was different. She was her grandfather’s daughter. Her only weaknesses were Alessandra and Aron. And now was her chance to bring Aron into her life, an unexpected opportunity. Of course, much of her plan depended on the outcome of this operation and what Aron remembered when he awoke.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the tile,” her sister commented quietly.
Martina glanced up. “He is undergoing a serious operation. There was a lot of swelling and his skull was fractured. Whatever blow to the head he received, almost killed him.”
Alessandra threw down the magazine and stared out at the lights of the city. “I love this place, but I could never live here. Can you imagine? A population of twenty million and an area of five hundred square miles, just the idea of it all makes me shiver. I prefer living in the country. Brock says Wyoming is beautiful, I want to go there someday.”
Martina didn’t answer. Brock was beneath her notice.
“You’re counting on Aron having permanent amnesia, aren’t you?”
Ignoring her implication, Martina continued speaking in generalities. “Juan conferred with Dr. Connery. He is the best. All of this is being done in secret. After he has recuperated sufficiently, we will return to Los Banos. Until then, Esteban can handle things for me.” And by handle things, she meant continue to make deliveries across the border, keep their customers happy, and kill as many of the Toro Cartel as they could find.
“Supervising your drug kingdom is not your biggest worry. This is.” Alessandra flung a newspaper down on the table in front of her. The headlines were huge and disturbing. Texas Millionaire Rancher Goes Missing On Honeymoon.
Martina stared at the paper as if it were a rattlesnake. “He is with me, now.”
“He was on his honeymoon.” The accusatory tone was loud and clear.
“I can make him happy.” She had no doubt she could. Aron McCoy was what her life had been lacking. She possessed money, talent and ultimate power. What she did not have was someone to share it with. Her father, sister and uncle were family, but they weren’t enough. She wanted excitement and passion. “The paperwork is being prepared. By the time we leave the hospital, Aron will be Austin Wade. All of his history will be manufactured, clothes will be bought, his room at Los Banos prepared and furnished as if he’s been living there for some time.”
“How do you propose to pull this off? This man is well known. He is the head of a powerful family. I’ve seen the news coverage. I’ve read the reports. They are going to turn the world upside down looking for him.”
Martina raised her head, her chin stubborn. She looked down her nose at her sister. “I will make him happy. This man was meant to belong to me.” Raising her hand into the air, she gestured with passion. “The Deity gave him to me. I did not go looking for him. He came to me!”
Alessandra narrowed her eyes at her powerful sister. “You are spoiled to having your own way, about everything. But these McCoys will not give up.” She rose and looked Martina in the eye. “I fear you will regret this day. And Aron will hate you when he realizes you took him away from his wife.”
“Damn his wife,” Martina whispered. “He’s mine, now.”
“I worry about you.” Alessandra threw her arms around her sister. “Don’t you know I stay scared to death someone is going to blow you up or assassinate you? I don’t want you to die. And this is just crazy. You can’t force a man to love you.”
She held her sister, reassuring her with a pat on the back. “I have to try. He is my ideal, I have wanted him forever.”
Stepping back, Alessandra sighed. “We don’t always get what we want, Martina. No matter how many guns we have.”
The double doors at the end of the hall swung open and Martina’s heart surged up into her throat. She hadn’t really considered the possibility that Aron wouldn’t live through surgery. But now, the solemn look on the doctor’s face scared her. She walked to meet him, leaving her sister standing in the door watching.
“Will he be okay?” She knew the doctor was aware of her identity, or rather what she was. It had crossed her mind he might take out his prejudice against her by letting Aron die. That would be a mistake.
“Ms. Delgado.” The doctor approached her. “Mr., uh, Wade had intracranial hemorrhaging. We will have to keep him in a comatose state to allow the swelling to subside and to calm his system.”
“Will he recover?” Her voice sounded weak, even to herself.
“I see no problems at this point. We’ll monitor his condition.”
“Will he get his memory back?”
He crossed his arms. “An injury to the brain isn’t like a broken arm or a burn. When the brain swells and compresses itself against the skull, the pressure can cause impairment. The type of impairment is unpredictable. There could be memory loss, confusion, erratic mood swings...all of this is quite normal.”
“So, he could wake up and not know who he is?”
“Absolutely.” He looked her directly in the eye, a half smile on his face. “I make no guarantees. I suggest you be ready for anything.”
***
Weeks later – Tebow Ranch
Libby stood in their bedroom. She was lost. Aron had been missing for over a month and there was no word on his whereabouts or even if he were still alive. Picking up a photograph of him, she held it to her chest and bit her bottom lip. All she wanted to do was keen, to wail in mourning like a banshee, but all the crying in the world did no good. There were things to be done; life went on, no matter how grief stricken she was. The nursery had to be prepared. Ready or not, she and Aron were going to be parents. Twin boys were on the way. One of the things she’d hoped to do on their honeymoon was name the babies. “What am I going to do without you?” She kissed his face in the photo. “I was supposed to be the one with the uncertain future, not you.”
Sitting on the side of the bed, she thought about her boys. Her choice of names was Colt and Case. She had never asked Aron if he had favorites. One of them should have his father’s name, Sebastian. Libby grimaced. Such a big name. Colt Sebastian. Sebastian Colt. Case Sebastian. No, the names just didn’t go well together. Maybe next time. “Next time. Oh, Aron. I want a next time. Please.”
Jacob and the others insisted she return to Texas. If she’d had her way, she would have camped out on that beach where she’d last seen him. Over and over again, Libby had relived their last few hours. Mountains of guilt burdened her soul. Why had she insisted they go in the water? Why couldn’t she have been satisfied just being with him? No, she’d been dead-set on doing everything on her stupid list. Heck, she’d made other plans...zip-lining, para-sailing. Now, she realized how stupid they had been. She was pregnant, for God’s sake.
And she was no longer living on borrowed time. After she’d come back from the Cayman’s, Doc Gibbs had checked her over. Her remission was holding. She was he
althy. Her world could be perfect, if their daddy was home. Libby hadn’t let her mind even contemplate a life without Aron. She ran her hand over the bedspread. Oh, how she loved him. Her body ached for him and her heart felt like it was breaking in two. “I love you, Aron. I’ll love you forever.”
***
Los Banos Ranch
Slowly, he opened his eyes. Something wasn’t right. He looked around the elegantly appointed room. Rich colors of gold and burgundy complimented heavy dark furniture. Running his fingers over the bed linens, he could tell they were sumptuous and fresh. Why did nothing look familiar? Raising a hand, he encountered bandages on his head. Pressing down, he realized there was pain. He was sore. What had happened to him? Where was he?
Clouds of confusion muddled his brain. A faint recollection of bad dreams crept into his head. Dammit! He had no idea what was going on. All he knew was he hadn’t been sleeping well. Moments of lucidity warred with bouts of night terrors and dark shadows, visions which haunted him, making him want to reach out and grab at some unknown life preserver—anything that would make him feel tethered to this world and not adrift in the unknown.
“Hello!” he called out. Kicking back the cover, he started to try and stand. Hell, he couldn’t. He was as weak as a newborn calf. With that thought, came images of cattle, a barn, faint shapes of men riding horses.
“You’re awake.” The door to his bedroom opened and in walked a beautiful woman. She was smiling at him, but she walked slowly as if gauging his reaction to her, almost cautiously. Her shoulder length hair was dark and her eyes were brown. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
