by Jean Barrett
He looked at her, and he said nothing. He didn’t have to. She could see it all in his eyes. The same questions that haunted her must be haunting him since he’d dredged up those fragments of memory from his subconscious. Questions like: Did he have Nathanial? If so, how did he get him? What was he doing with him, and why do those men want him? And where is Nathaniel now?
They were questions without answers, because his mind was blocking out all the rest. Why? Was it guarding something so terrible that it was using amnesia as a shield?
Nathanial. I want to know where he is, too. I want my son back.
This was no good. Surrendering to a mother’s desperation wouldn’t get them the answers. Not when he was as tortured as she was by his inability to provide them. It would be much more useful for her to forget she was a mother and turn to her P.I. skills.
“It’s all right, Shane. For now, we’ll go with what we have. Let’s go back to that panel truck. Can you recall anything more about it? License plate, name on the side?”
“Negative,” he said regretfully.
“The place where they held you. Visualize it again.” This time he closed his eyes. She watched him hopefully. “Tell me what you see.”
“Shabby. The place is run-down. Uh, it’s…it’s a motel room.”
“How do you know?”
“There’s everything there that says it’s a cheap motel. And there’s a sign out front. I see it when they haul me out to the truck. Hear the sound of surf, too. The beach must be nearby. Hold it. I can see the name on the sign now. The Jolly Mariner. Oh, yeah, that’s it. The Jolly Mariner.”
His eyes opened. They looked at each other eagerly. This is what they had been seeking. A name. A place to begin their search.
“I think you and I are going to pay a visit to the Jolly Mariner,” he said.
Eden read a grimness in his tone, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the men who had brutalized him. She wasn’t sure she cared for that idea. Tangling like that with a trio who might be armed, and were certainly dangerous, could risk the recovery of both his memory and Nathanial. Not to mention their lives.
“Maybe it’s time we went to the police,” she said.
“No cops,” he insisted.
He still feared the police then. It was something that worried her, but she wasn’t going to argue with him about it. Not now when at last they had a definite lead. “We’ll start with the Jolly Mariner then,” she agreed. “It’s a long shot, but maybe we’ll get the answers there we need. There’s just one problem, though.”
“Being?”
“Where is the Jolly Mariner? There are beaches everywhere in the Charleston area and all of them with dozens of motels.”
“There’s got to be a way to locate it.”
Eden nodded. “The Internet. I think that’s our best method.”
Minutes later, they were able to hail a cab, which sped them back to Eden’s place. Once inside her office, she put Shane online at the computer while she settled behind her desk with the phone.
There were several car rental agencies at the airport. She tried them all, hoping to learn Shane’s identity by asking if one of their vehicles might have been recovered from the scene of an accident and, if so, who had rented it. But none of them would discuss what they regarded as confidential information. Nor did Eden want to press them, fearing they would contact the police, even though she didn’t give them her real name.
“No luck,” she reported after she’d exhausted the list. “You?”
“I’ve got it!” Shane said triumphantly. “The Jolly Mariner is at Folly Beach.”
Eden looked over his shoulder at the listing on the screen. “I know it. It’s on Folly Island, south of Charleston.”
Within minutes, they were on the road again and headed away from the center of the city. They didn’t talk. Eden’s mind was on the traffic and reaching their destination.
They were still weaving their way through the urban sprawl when Shane ended the silence with an abrupt “Pull over.”
Startled by his command, she glanced at him in dismay. “What’s wrong?”
If Eden hadn’t learned by now just how forceful this man could be when the occasion demanded it, she learned it now.
“Damn it, just stop the car, will you?”
Chapter Six
A driver blew his horn in anger as Eden whipped across the lane in front of him to reach the curb. She didn’t blame him. She had risked a collision in order to comply with Shane’s urgent command. That she had obeyed it instantly and without question was an indication he was a man used to giving orders. And that could also mean he had served as an officer in some branch of the military.
Coasting into a parking space against the curb, she threw the gear into Park and turned to him. “This had better be good.”
“The store back there on the corner,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
Eden twisted around in her seat. “It’s a pawnshop.”
“Right.”
“And that’s your emergency?”
“We need it.”
She was totally perplexed by now. “What could we possibly need from—”
“Wedding rings. If we’re going to make this marriage of ours look convincing, then we ought to be wearing wedding rings. Come on.”
Eden felt this might be taking their masquerade to unnecessary lengths, but Shane gave her no opportunity to argue about it. He had already unbuckled and was sliding out of the car. She had no choice but to follow him.
The pawnshop had a large selection of wedding rings in all sizes and designs. It troubled Eden that so many people could be desperate enough to pawn their wedding rings. But she didn’t comment on this as Shane carefully examined them, rejecting any that had engraving inside. After trying them on, they settled on a pair of plain, matching gold bands.
Shane took possession of the rings after Eden paid for them. “Uh, isn’t the idea for us to wear them?” she asked as they came away from the shop.
“Right.”
He gave her one of the rings. Eden looked at it. “This is yours.”
“I know.” He turned and faced her on the sidewalk where they had paused. “I thought it might be nice if we placed the rings on each other’s fingers. Just to sort of seal our arrangement to work together.”
Eden felt something turn over inside her.
“A temporary deal, of course,” he added.
“Naturally. Uh, you don’t expect us to exchange some kind of vows, too, do you?”
“I guess we don’t have to go that far.”
He held out his hand. Eden hesitated and then placed the ring on his finger. If he had ever worn a wedding ring before, there was no telltale sign of it on his finger. Not that this was proof of anything.
She experienced a little jolt when he took her own hand, holding it warmly for several seconds before he slowly slid the ring over her finger. He took far more time with the action than he needed to. It was disconcerting to feel how easily the gold band settled into place on her finger. As if it belonged there.
It was equally disconcerting when Shane leaned down and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “The bridegroom’s prerogative,” he said in a deep voice that sent a shiver dancing along her spine.
This husband-and-wife thing was getting to be more emotionally complicated than she’d anticipated, Eden thought. And far too provocative.
LESS THAN AN HOUR later they crossed a bridge over the Folly River and entered the resort district of Folly Island.
“I’ve seen more life in ghost towns,” Shane observed as they rolled along the deserted beachfront.
“Come back in summer,” Eden said, “and you’ll find the place choked with traffic. What’s the address again?”
“It’s 3211 North Ocean Avenue. We’ve got some distance to cover yet.”
Which meant the Jolly Mariner was not in the high-rent district, Eden thought. Not that she expected it to be, considering Shane’s desc
ription of the motel.
They continued along the oceanfront where many of the facilities were closed for the season. Those that were still open had few visitors. And that, she realized with a shudder, made it an area where you would be reasonably safe from interruption while you beat a man senseless.
The Jolly Mariner bore this out when they finally reached it just beyond a golf course empty of players. Eden pulled past the sign into the parking lot and turned off the engine. They sat there in silence for a moment, checking out the situation.
Long and low, painted a faded blue and with shaggy, overgrown crape myrtles emphasizing its seedy look, the Jolly Mariner was the kind of motel that got guests only after the better inns were filled.
“Not very jolly, is it?” Shane remarked. “Or encouraging.”
Eden knew he was not referring to the condition of the motel but to its aura of absolute vacancy. There was not a soul in sight, and the drapes at all the windows were fully closed. What could they hope to learn here? Those men who had seized and held him were certainly not hanging around.
“Still…” he said, unbuckling and reaching for the door handle.
He didn’t need to finish. She knew what he meant. They had to try.
When she joined him outside the car, Shane was checking the semiautomatic to be certain it was in readiness should they need it. He probably would have returned her pistol to her if she had asked him, but he seemed to feel more secure keeping it in his possession. Besides, the way he handled the weapon, with complete confidence, assured her she was in the care of a professional. One of the guys in white hats. She hoped. After all, they had yet to learn what he was.
Satisfied, Shane tucked the weapon into the back side of his waistband where he could easily reach it just under his open jacket. “Stay behind me,” he instructed her as they started for the office located at the center of the motel.
Eden was a trained P.I. who knew how to handle herself in the event of trouble. She should have resented his take-charge attitude. But she didn’t, and now wasn’t the time to ask herself why.
She could hear the dull boom of the surf on the shore across the avenue as they cautiously approached the office. Eden was glad of her jacket. There was a cold wind off the ocean.
“Locked,” Shane said after trying the door.
What had they expected? The motel, without any hope of business, was obviously closed for the season.
“There,” he said, that familiar grimness in his tone as he nodded in the direction of a room three doors away. “That’s the room where they held me. I’m sure of it.”
The room was no more promising than the others, its window closed and drapes pulled. Eden was convinced that even if they broke in, they wouldn’t find anything useful. Besides, her gaze had been attracted to something much more interesting.
There was a huge magnolia at the far corner of the long building. Through the thickness of its glossy foliage, she could just make out the white metal of a vehicle parked behind the tree.
“Maybe we’re not alone here,” she said, drawing his attention in that direction.
Shane looked and nodded. “The truck they used was a light color. Could have been white. Let’s investigate.”
They did, again with caution. When they reached it, the unoccupied vehicle proved to be an old panel truck, most likely the one that had been used to transport Shane. If there had ever been lettering on its sides, it had been painted out. Quite possibly to prevent identification, because even the truck’s license plate had been plastered with mud.
From this angle Eden could see that the motel was L-shaped. While Shane walked around the truck, trying its doors, all of which were apparently locked, she gazed nervously down the length of the building’s side wing. Maybe the truck had been abandoned in this spot after serving its purpose. Maybe not. And if any one, or possibly all three, of those men were still here and even now lurking inside one of these rooms, watching them from behind a drape…
“I don’t like this,” she said. “What if they’re here and armed? I know how you feel about it, but don’t you think it’s time we called—”
Shane held up one hand, silencing her. “Hear it?”
She listened and did hear it. There was the repeated clang of metal against metal, muffled by distance. It came from somewhere behind the motel.
“Sounds like somebody doing repairs,” Shane said. “Let’s go find out just who he’s working for.”
“Shane—”
“Maybe you ought to wait here.”
She’d been about to suggest the police again, but there was no point in doing that. He was determined. So was she. “And leave you without backup? I don’t think so. Just be careful, huh. For all we know, this guy is lethal with plumbing tools.”
Shane led the way again, moving down the length of the side wing with its ranks of identical outside doors. Although he didn’t remove the pistol from his waistband, his hand was back there, ready for a quick draw. The banging was louder as they reached the corner and rounded the back side of the motel. It stopped suddenly, replaced by a string of muttered curses.
The source of this frustration was revealed to them when they neared the angle where the two wings of the motel were joined. Situated on a concrete platform in the ell was the bulky compressor for a central air-conditioning unit. A figure in stained coveralls was crouched beside it, hammer in hand.
Aware of their approach, he glanced up at them. The sun was behind them. They couldn’t have been much more than silhouettes to him. “Place is closed for the season, folks.”
“That’s funny,” Shane said cheerfully, closing in on him, “because it was open just the other night. One of the rooms here was, anyway.”
The man peered at them. Eden watched an expression of recognition travel across his thin face. The hammer dropped out of his hand, clattering on the cover of the compressor that lay beside the unit. She guessed who he was when he got to his feet, licking his lips and backing away from them. This had to be Shane’s little weasel.
He looked exactly like a skinny weasel, with a twitching nose and a pair of beady, frightened eyes that darted from side to side, seeking escape. But trapped in the ell as he was, there was nowhere for him to run. He made a stab at it, though, dodging to his left.
That’s when Eden learned that Shane in action was impressive. He was on the little weasel like a wolf pouncing on his next meal. Hand locked around the throat of his catch, Shane pinned him against the wall of the motel.
“Tell you something interesting—” Shane paused, his gaze dropping briefly to the name stitched in red thread on a breast pocket of the coverall “—Roy. The other night when you boys dragged me in here like that, I was unconscious. You must have figured I wouldn’t have a clue who grabbed me or where I was. Same for when you hauled me out. Only you figured wrong, Roy. See, on that second trip I wasn’t unconscious, only playing at it, which is why I had a glimpse of the motel’s sign out front. Now, that’s interesting, right?”
“Man, you’re making a big mistake.”
He squealed like a little animal, too, Eden thought.
Ignoring the objection, Shove shoved his face close to the twitching nose. “Tell you something else, Roy. My wife here was real upset when you sent me home to her all battered and bruised like that.”
“W-wife?” Roy said stupidly.
“Wife, Roy. As in this.”
Shane held his left hand up to Roy’s face, displaying the newly purchased wedding band, as if to test its believability. Or maybe, Eden thought, just because he was having fun again with their masquerade. He was forever choosing the worst moments for that.
“So, Roy, what are we gonna do about making her feel better?”
“I don’t know, man, I don’t know.” He tried to squirm away, but Shane’s right hand clamped around his neck continued to hold him against the building.
“Sure you do, Roy. You can start by telling us all about those two buddies of yours.”
Shane looked him up and down. “You’re what, Roy? Owner of the Jolly Mariner? Nah, that’s not right. More like the caretaker and maintenance man. Except there wouldn’t be enough work for you in a dump like this. My guess is that you service some of the other motels in the area, too. Wonder what all their owners would say if they knew you were hiring out their rooms for some really nasty stuff? Things like the other night.”
“Man, have a heart,” he pleaded, his voice a squeaky whine by now. “You don’t know those two guys. They’re mean as snakes. They’ll kill me if I talk.”
“Or maybe I could beat it out of you. Like they tried to beat information out of me. What do you think, Roy?”
Shane’s hand slowly tightened on the caretaker’s throat. Alarmed that he would strangle the man, whose eyes were bulging now with terror, Eden started to go to him.
“Stop!” Roy gasped. “I’ll tell!”
“That’s better.” Shane relaxed his grip, but he didn’t remove it. The caretaker continued to hang there against the wall in his grasp. “Your two friends, Roy. Who are they?”
“I don’t know. No, that’s the truth, I swear. I never saw ’em before that night, and they wouldn’t tell me their names. Come up to me in this bar where I hang out. Wanted to use me and my truck and a room here for a couple of hours. Willing to pay big, but no questions asked.”
“So you went along with the idea?”
“Man, I needed the money. But I never knew what any of it was about, not who you were or why they snatched you like that or what they wanted out of you. Hey, they sent me out of the room when they got around to questioning you, remember?”
“What happened to my husband’s things they took off of him?” Eden asked. “His wallet, for instance?”
“I don’t know, lady. I guess they kept them. I never saw the stuff again after I left the room.”
