by Linda Turner
His frown deepening with concern, he crossed to the bathroom door and knocked sharply. “Annie? What’s going on in there? Are you all right?”
His only answer was the continued running of the water.
You go charging in there like some sort of knight in search of the Holy Grail and you’re going to scare her to death, a caustic voice warned in his ear. Especially since you’ve already grabbed her and kissed her once tonight. Hold your horses and let her have her privacy. She’ll be out when she’s done.
But another ten minutes passed and Annie showed no sign of cutting off the water. Struggling for patience, Joe paced and cursed and tried to ignore the worry squeezing his heart. But he was fighting a losing battle, and with a muttered curse, he knocked on the bathroom door, then pushed it open before she could say yea or nay. Like it or not, he was going in.
He half expected her to scream, but with the shower door closed, she didn’t even see him. “Annie? Are you all right?” he called over the steady drone of the shower. “You’ve been in there an awful long time.”
She’d heard him—she had to. But silence was his only answer. Truly worried now, he strode over to the shower stall. Later, he couldn’t have said what he expected to see when he jerked open the door, but it wasn’t the sight of Annie standing under a cold spray of water, her face as pale as death, her arms heavy with exhaustion as she dragged a washcloth over herself again and again. In some spots on her breasts and thighs, her skin was red and nearly rubbed raw.
Alarmed, he didn’t even stop to think, but stepped into the shower fully clothed. “Annie? Honey? What is it? What’s wrong?”
She glanced up at the first sound of her name, her hands stilling, and it was then that Joe’s heart stopped in his chest. He’d never seen such stark terror in anyone’s eyes before and it scared the hell out of him. He wanted to reach for her, to wrap her close and demand to know what had happened, but he was afraid to touch her.
She blinked, her gaze locked and focused on his, and suddenly her blue eyes were swimming in tears. “J-Joe…help m-me. I—I c-can’t g-get clean.”
He’d sworn when she left him that he’d never let her break his heart again, but he felt it crack then, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Annie. “Oh, baby,” he rasped, his own eyes stinging as he reached to take the washcloth from her, “you’re so clean, you’re squeaky. Here, let’s turn the water off and get you out of here.”
With a savage twist of his hands, he shut off the cold spray, plunging the bathroom into a thick, heavy silence. Her arms climbing up her body to hug herself, Annie tried to say something, but suddenly her teeth were chattering and she was shaking with cold and shock. Joe ached to hold her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react and he didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was.
“Don’t try to talk,” he murmured soothingly as he pulled towels from the linen closet and wrapped them around her as tenderly as if she were a child. “Whatever the problem is, I’ll handle it. Just stand there and let me take care of you, honey. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Biting her bottom lip to still its trembling, she nodded and docilely did as he said, not uttering so much as a whimper as Joe gently patted the water from her breasts and hips and legs. His emotions fiercely held in check, he told himself to get a grip.
But a muscle jumped in his jaw every time he touched her poor chafed skin. Lord, she had to be hurting—it hurt him just to look at her.
What happened while he was gone? he wondered furiously. Why had she done this to herself? Questions tore at him, but she was in no shape to give him any answers. Not now. She could barely stand and words were beyond her as goose bumps rippled across her skin. Wrapping a towel around her dripping hair and another around her shivering body, he urged her into the bedroom. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me find you a nightgown and then I’ll put you to bed. Once you warm up, you’ll feel better. Okay?”
Only able to manage a jerky nod, she stumbled over to the bed and perched hesitantly on the side of the mattress. By the time Joe finally found her a gown and robe, some color had seeped back into her face, but her knuckles were white with strain as she clutched at the towel that covered her. And when her gaze lifted to his, awareness of her own nakedness was there in her eyes.
Hesitating, Joe unconsciously curled his fingers into the softness of her nightclothes. “Can you dress yourself?” he asked huskily.
Heat climbing in her cheeks, she swallowed thickly. “Y-yes. I—I think s-so.”
He didn’t want to leave her by herself, but she couldn’t have made it plainer that she needed a few minutes to herself. Crossing to her, he laid her clothes next to her on the bed. “I’ll just be in the living room,” he told her quietly. “If you need some help, just holler.”
Walking away from her when he knew she still needed him was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he didn’t intend to be gone for long. Grabbing some dry clothes for himself from their closet, he hurried into the guest bathroom to dry off and change, then headed for the kitchen to make her a cup of hot cocoa. Within minutes, he was back, knocking at the bedroom door.
“You okay, honey? I brought you some cocoa. I thought it might steady your nerves. Are you decent?”
Cold all the way to her soul in spite of the gown and robe that now covered her from her ankles to her throat, Annie hugged herself and had to swallow twice before she could answer. “Yes. You can c-come in.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth, and he was there in front of her, studying her with eyes that were dark with worry. And, just as quickly, the tears that she’d thought she’d cried out in the shower were back, spilling over her lashes. He was being so sweet to her, and she was acting like a basket case. God, what must he think of her?
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided. “After everything you’ve been through, I imagine you’re entitled to a few tears.” He held the steaming mug out to her and smiled coaxingly. “I made it just the way you like it—with an obscene amount of whipped cream.”
Sure her stomach would revolt if she dared to put so much as a swallow in it, she took the cup to warm her hands. The scent of chocolate, dark and sinful, drifted to her nose, tempting her. Staring down at the mound of whipped cream floating in the chocolate, she hesitated.
“Go ahead,” Joe urged softly. “It’ll make you feel better.”
She didn’t think she would ever feel better again, but she took a sip, then another, and felt heat spread through her like liquid sunshine. She sighed and held the mug to her chest. For the first time in what seemed like hours, she had some body heat to fight the cold that invaded her very soul.
When she glanced up, Joe was watching her with eyes that were as fierce as a hawk’s. “What happened while I was gone?”
She didn’t want to tell him, but one look at his set face and she knew he would never be satisfied with anything less than the truth. But God, how did she tell him without sounding like a baby who was afraid of her own shadow? “This is so stupid,” she blurted out, dashing impatiently at the tears that slid down her cheeks as she stepped past him to pace the length of the bedroom. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Nothing really happened. It was just a phone call—”
“Someone called? Who? When?”
She nodded. “About five minutes after you went back to the restaurant. Actually, it was two phone calls. I thought the first one was a wrong number because no one said anything, so I hung up. Then a few minutes later, the phone rang again. I almost didn’t answer it, but I knew you’d be worried if it was you….”
“And?”
“A man said my name—”
“And?”
“And that was it.” A strangled laugh, verging on hysteria, forced its way through her tight throat. “I know—it sounds ridiculous. There was nothing to be afraid of, but the second he said my name, I was terrified. And I don’t even know why! He didn’t threaten me or
anything. For all I know, he could have been an old friend of yours who’s wondering right now why I hung up on him. God, I feel like such an idiot!”
“Why? Because you’re afraid? Honey, if we could explain away fear, nobody would be scared of anything.” Moving to her side, he slung a brotherly arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to apologize for being scared. You were, and now we have to figure out why. Did you recognize the caller’s voice? Did it sound familiar at all? Maybe you knew him.”
For a second, just a second, the weight of his arm across her shoulders felt like heaven, and she allowed herself the luxury of melting against him. But then she could hear the caller’s voice in her ear, saying her name, and suddenly she couldn’t bear to be touched.
Shrugging out from under his arm, she was halfway across the room before he even realized there was a problem. She saw his surprise, the slight tightening of his jaw, but there was nothing she could say, no explanation she could give, that would make sense. He would think it was because of the kiss—that she didn’t trust him—but the wariness he’d stirred in her then was nothing compared to this.
Regret darkening her eyes, she turned away. “No. At least I don’t think so,” she amended. “I don’t remember ever having heard it before, but I guess that doesn’t mean much, does it?”
She couldn’t have made it clearer that she didn’t want his touch if she’d screamed and fought her way free of him. His expression carefully shuttered, Joe didn’t so much as flinch. “Okay, so you don’t remember his voice, but he had to know you since he called you by name. What did he do after that?”
“I—I don’t know. I hung up.” Emotions skittered across her face, as easy to read as a Dr. Seuss book. Fear, trepidation, revulsion. Her gaze unfocused, directed toward something Joe couldn’t see, she swallowed and dazedly rubbed her hands up and down her arms just as she’d done when he’d found her in the shower. “I felt so dirty, I couldn’t stand it,” she whispered half to herself. She blinked then, her eyes lifting to his with painful, helpless bewilderment. “I couldn’t get clean, Joe. I tried, but it didn’t matter how much soap I used, I still felt dirty. And I don’t know why.”
He went to her then because he couldn’t help himself, because she needed him, whether she knew it or not. And he, God help him, needed her. “You’re not dirty, honey.” Taking a chance, he lifted his hand and lightly ran a finger down her smooth cheek. “You’re clean and beautiful, and if someone made you feel otherwise, they’re the one with the problem, not you.”
He was so close he could see the doubts in her eyes. He knew he was crowding her, but God, he ached to just hold her, dammit! To feel her against him and forget for a moment they’d ever been apart. But he hadn’t forgotten the shock in her eyes when he’d kissed her. And a man could only watch his wife cringe from his touch so much before he learned to keep his hands to himself.
Stepping back, he gave her the room she needed. “Now that we’ve got that straightened out,” he began, “why don’t I—”
The sudden knock on the front door was sharp and demanding. Startled, Annie stiffened, every line of her body tight with apprehension as her eyes flew to Joe’s. Swearing, he growled, “Who the hell is that at this time of night? Stay here, honey, while I check it out.”
The last person he expected to find knocking on his front door at ten o’clock at night was Sam Kelly. Jerking the door wide, he motioned him inside. “You don’t usually come calling this time of night. What’s up?”
“I probably should have waited until tomorrow for this, but I’ve got some news and I thought you’d want to hear it as soon as possible.” Stepping into the living room, he glanced around. “Where’s Annie?”
“Here,” she said from the short hallway that led to the bedrooms. “What’s wrong? Did you find out what happened to me?”
“Not to you, no,” he said regretfully. “But I did find out what happened to Sal Larkin.” At her blank look, he said, “You know, the renter you were supposed to meet with at the Transit Tower the other night. He never showed because he was in a car accident on the way in from Houston. He’s been in the hospital ever since.”
“Oh, no!”
“I know it’s not much consolation, but at least we know he wasn’t involved in what happened to you,” he said. “He was in emergency surgery at the time and couldn’t have possibly had anything to do with whatever went down in the Transit Tower parking garage. That means someone else is involved. All we’ve got to do is figure out who.”
“That may be simpler than you think,” Joe told him gravely. “Annie got a couple of strange phone calls tonight when I was at the restaurant.”
“What kind of phone calls?”
Pale, she grimaced. “One was a hang-up. The next one was a man. He called me by n-name—”
“And scared her out of her mind,” Joe finished for her angrily.
He told him then about Annie’s reaction to the call. “Whoever he was, he had to have something to do with her amnesia,” he said grimly. “She was terrified of him. And I’m telling you right now, Sam, if I ever get my hands on him, the miserable piece of scum is going to wish he’d never been born.”
Sam understood exactly how he felt—in his shoes, he’d have been as outraged as Joe, but the last thing this case needed right now was an outraged husband muddying the water. “Hold your horses, Kemosabe,” he warned, shooting him a hard look. “For all we know, this could be just a case of a simple wrong number—”
“The hell it is! He called her by name!”
“Her name’s in the phone book, isn’t it? She’s a licensed Realtor, Joe. Doesn’t she have both her home and business numbers listed? It could have been a business call that scared her for some reason.”
It could have, but Joe wasn’t buying that for a second. “You didn’t see her in that shower, Sam. She was freaked, and you know Annie’s not the type to freak easily.”
“Which is all the more reason for you to take care of her and let us handle whoever made that call,” he replied. “Annie’s shaky enough over this without you trying to take the law into your own hands.” Turning back to Annie, he motioned for her to join him on the couch. “Why don’t you come over here and tell me about this call, Annie—”
“All he said was my name.”
“I know,” he said patiently, as she reluctantly crossed to the couch, “but what did he sound like? Did he have an accent? Were there any noises that you could pick up in the background? Any strange sounds that might tell us where he was calling from? Close your eyes and just think a minute. Maybe there was a train whistle or some music…”
Obediently, Annie did as he asked, praying that in her terror, she might have missed something, anything. But all she could hear when she replayed the call in her head was that voice…flat, totally without emotion, yet somehow horribly frightening at the same time. Who was this man who could terrify her with just the sound of his voice? What did he want with her? And when would he call again?
Her eyes flew open, the new fear draining the last of the color from cheeks that were already lily-white. “There was nothing,” she rasped hoarsely. “Nothing. He called me by name, and then there was this long silence. Do you think he’ll call back? I can’t talk to him again. I won’t!”
“You’re damn right you won’t,” Joe growled. There was no way he was standing back and letting some sick joker terrorize her this way. “From now on, I’ll answer the damn phone, or we’ll let the machine get it.” And she wasn’t going to be left alone again either. When he couldn’t be with her, he’d make sure someone else was.
Turning to Sam, he arched a dark brow. “Well?” he demanded. “You still think this was a simple wrong number?”
He didn’t, but it didn’t matter what he thought. He had to go by the law. “At this point, it doesn’t matter, Joe. It’s not against the law to call someone by their name over the phone. If we could prove he knew what he was doing to her when he did it, we might have a slim cas
e of harassment, but he’d have to call a heck of a lot more than twice. If I were you, I’d get caller ID on your phone just in case this joker calls back. At least then we’d know where he was calling from and we might be able to find out who the devil he is.”
It was a long shot, but the only one they had. Joe nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements the first thing Monday morning.”
By ten o’clock Monday morning, Joe had someone from the telephone company installing caller ID at the apartment and, to the amusement of the telephone repairman, a new phone in both bathrooms. Over the next few days, however, the new service turned out to be unnecessary. Whoever had called Saturday night and scared the living daylights out of Annie hadn’t called back. Not taking any chances, though, Joe made sure she wasn’t left alone again. If she wasn’t with him at the restaurant, she was with Phoebe, or he brought work home with him.
As promised, Sam got back to them with the results of the lab tests on Annie’s clothes and the stain in the parking garage, and the news wasn’t anything they hadn’t expected. The bloodstains matched each other, but not Annie. As for the fingerprints on her car, they all turned out to be hers.
With the case at a standstill, they seldom discussed it, but settled into a routine that seemed to take the anxiety from Annie’s eyes. Her memory still persisted in eluding her, but she was more relaxed…as long as they remained in the apartment. The second they stepped outside, however, the fear was back, the tension gripping her visibly—a thing that was difficult to watch. Realizing that she didn’t know friend from foe, Joe took immediate steps to remedy the situation.
“C’mon.” he told her after breakfast one morning. “I’m going to introduce you around so if someone speaks to you in the hall, you’ll know if it’s someone you can trust.”
