Forget Me Not

by Vicki Hinze

  He clasped her hand. “What if you find out something wonderful?”

  Her hand trembled in his. Was it a lack of faith, her worrying? “What if I’m not remembering it because I don’t want to remember it?”

  He stopped and faced her, waited for a giggling couple to walk past, then said, “If we could block out things in our lives because they are terrible, I’d be a permanent amnesiac. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “I know you’re right.” She lowered her gaze to his chest. “It’s really awful that I’m not trusting God more on this. It’s just that.”

  “You’re human and the unknown is always scary. Karen, look at me.”

  She forced her gaze to meet his.

  He smiled. “You’ve been through a lot. So much that most people would be hiding in a closet somewhere, shaking in their shoes.”

  “I’m shaking plenty.”

  “Of course you are. You’d have to lack sense not to be.” He softened his voice, watched a man walking his dog talk to it as if it were a small child. “How is that not trusting God?”

  She thought a minute. “I should trust Him and not be afraid.”

  “Well, you know I don’t believe anymore, but if I did—no, never mind.”

  “If you did … ?”

  He stalled out.

  “Please, Ben.” She let him see her vulnerability. “I need shoring up right now, and I’m not too proud to admit it. I have faith, but … I don’t know.”

  “If I did believe, I’d tell you that God created everything, including fear. Fear isn’t an enemy. It warns us of danger. It makes us notice things so we protect ourselves. Fear isn’t a failing. Sometimes it’s a weapon, but sometimes it’s a shield too.”

  “A shield?”

  “Like now.” He lifted their clasped hands. “I’m letting you into my life. I haven’t done that since Susan, and I don’t know why I’m doing it now. I told myself it was just that you were in crisis and needed help, and that’s plenty enough reason, but it’s not the whole truth. For a crisis, it wouldn’t get personal, and I don’t know about you, but for me, holding your hand and talking to you about the things we’ve discussed—private things—that’s personal.”

  Joy burst and spread through her chest, seeped deep into her heart. “It’s personal for me too, Ben.” She watched a blue van move down the street. “My challenge with that is I don’t know what’s waiting for me on the other side of that door.” She motioned toward the center’s entrance. “I could find out I have no right to feel things I’m beginning to feel for you. I could find out that I have a husband and children waiting.”

  He lowered his gaze. “I’ve thought of that too.”

  “Have you?”

  Ben nodded. “This makes things even more difficult, doesn’t it?”

  “It does.” She swallowed hard and took a leap of faith. “We could both get hurt, and we’ve been hurt enough.”

  “Yes.” He looked her straight in the eye.

  “So what do we do about it?”

  “I wish I could say that it just stops here. But I don’t want that. Do you?”

  “No, I don’t.” She paused, gathered her thoughts. “I respect you, Ben. And I trust you. I like you. I think those are rare privileges in my life—they feel rare—and I don’t want to turn away from them.”

  “Then let’s just not think too much about it right now. Let’s just go inside and find out what’s waiting, and we’ll go from there.”

  Be patient with him.

  She glanced upward and left. God, please, be patient with me. I am so much a work in progress. Just please don’t let me end up with a broken heart. Or him either.

  “Okay,” she told Ben. “One step at a time.”

  They walked on, and just as Ben reached for the door, she touched his arm. “Wait.” When he stopped, she looked up at him. “I’m going to dare to feel for you, Ben, and pray hard that neither of us regrets it. I just wanted you to know that. So if you’re not serious about whatever this is between us, I’d appreciate it if you’d be honest and just tell me so now.”

  “I’m not sure what to say.” He wasn’t; it was written all over his face. “I feel things for you, but I’ve got unresolved issues because of what happened with Susan. We both know it.”

  True. Very true. “And you won’t pray about it.”

  “I … can’t.”

  Competing for her own space in his heart and life against Susan was something Karen could do. Susan wouldn’t want or expect Ben to live in the past, and his heart was big enough for them both. But to allow herself to fall for a man who wouldn’t pray? A man who’d banned God from his life?

  That she couldn’t do. Or accept. So where did that leave her on this?

  She wished she knew.

  Seven thirty on a Monday night when it wasn’t tourist season, and the crisis center still bustled. Karen shuddered at how busy it must be during the season, and at all the hurting people who came through its doors.

  Clyde had replaced the windows, and no sign of any other damage from the bomb remained. The center had healed, and so would Karen. The receptionist sat at her desk. “Hi, Mel.”

  “Hi, Karen.” She smiled broadly, her gaze darting between Karen and Ben. “Mrs. Crane is in her office. She’s waiting for you guys.”

  “Thanks.” Karen didn’t recall where Peggy’s office was located, so she followed Ben.

  They passed a closed door, but Lisa Harper’s voice was raised and carried out into the hallway. “I have a restraining order, Dutch. Are you going to make me use it?” A pause. “Why won’t you leave me alone? I don’t call, visit, or bother you. I have nothing to do with you.” A quick pause, then, “Look, I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Call me again and you’ll be arrested.”

  A loud thump warned she’d slammed down the phone.

  Karen shot Ben a worried look.

  “Long story,” he whispered. “Her stepfather is a near-miss stalker. He does just enough to drive her nuts but too little to get arrested.”

  Awful. Everyone had a burden to bear. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since she was a kid and her mother married the jerk.” His eyes shone bright. “The laws are still catching up.”

  “Lawmakers need to move it.” Karen frowned. “No one should have to put up with that.”

  “She takes more than she has to—to keep peace with her mother. Otherwise, he takes it out on her. It drives Mark nuts.”

  “Why?”

  “I think he’s got a thing for her, but she’s so buried between work and family, she hasn’t noticed. He’s worried about the stress Dutch causes Lisa.”

  Or maybe Lisa had all she could handle without another relationship to worry about. Why didn’t Lisa’s mother leave? God didn’t mean for anyone to suffer abuse. Karen kept her thoughts to herself. Was that being respectful or cowardly? If she knew more about herself, maybe she could answer that. But right now, she didn’t know who she was and couldn’t judge her own choices or life, much less question anyone else’s.

  God should judge, anyway, not her. And He has rendered judgment against abuse. Put Him first and love one another. All the laws are based there, and abuse isn’t sanctioned in either commandment.

  Lisa Harper knew this, of course. Working here, she had to know. So why did her mother stay?

  Probably money. It’s what kept most abused women stuck in those situations. Tragic. Karen made a mental note to add Lisa’s mother to her prayer list.

  “Sorry you had to hear that.” Ben tapped on Peggy’s door.

  Karen glanced his way. “Sorry it’s happening.”

  Ben sighed. “We’ve tried to get her mother out, Karen. She won’t leave. He’s got her convinced he’ll kill her and Lisa if she leaves, and she won’t risk it.”

  “Can nothing be done?”

  “We’re working on it.” He knocked again. “I’ve offered to send her to my castle in Scotland, but she says the world isn’t big enough to hide
her from Dutch.”

  Karen knew that feeling only too well.

  “Enter,” Peggy said from inside.

  Karen and Ben walked in. Please, don’t let it be anything terrible.

  Peggy looked at her watch. “You made good time.” She removed her glasses and looked Karen over. “You look better. Why are you still wearing scrubs?”

  Karen shrugged. “No time to shop today. We got busy.”

  Peggy reached over to the wall behind her desk, grabbed a shopping bag, and then passed it over her cluttered desk to Karen. “I figured that would happen, especially after the trouble last night—Nora’s still fussing about her sheets.” Peggy grinned and then shot Ben a reprimanding look. “Here are a few things to tide you over.”

  Karen smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Peggy said. “Actually, you should probably sit down.”

  Uh-oh. Bad news. No one sits for good news. Karen slid onto a forest-green leather visitor’s chair and set the bag on the floor near her feet.

  Ben took the seat beside her. “Is this about the fax?”

  “I’m afraid it is.” Peggy passed a copy to each of them. “I’ll give you a minute to read through the pages. Then I’ll brief you on my discussion with Emily. After that, we can decide what to do next.”

  Karen scanned the papers and saw her own photograph smiling back at her—one free of bruises. Hope flared in her, but as she read, it began to diminish.

  “So your name is really Kelly.” Ben looked at her. “You look like a Kelly. It fits.”

  “Kelly.” She shrugged. “I like it. But why is there no last name?”

  Peggy leaned forward, over her desk. “Emily says it was a quirk of Massey’s to protect his clients. None of his records contain last names.”

  “Harder to subpoena, I expect,” Ben said. “He doesn’t list clients either. FL0301. What does that mean?”

  Kelly floundered. “Florida something.”

  “Maybe,” Ben said.

  “We’re the third county from the state line, coming from New Orleans.” Peggy lifted a hand. “I’ve been conferring with Mark, and that’s the best we could come up with.”

  “In other words,” Kelly said, “it’s a key only Massey could decipher.”

  “That was Emily’s position.”

  “So we know I’m Kelly, that I was in New Orleans, and that Massey had been hired to follow me. We don’t know why or who he was working for, but it could be someone from here in Florida.”

  “That’s about it.” Peggy looked as disappointed as Kelly felt.

  “Don’t be down. At least now we know your first name. We’ll find the rest.”

  “Will we, Ben?”

  “Mark’s working on it right now,” Peggy said. “He’s checking missing persons nationwide and with DMV to see if they can trace your car or get anything on you going that route.” Peggy leaned back. “We’re on a system that connects with hospitals and emergency care facilities, and other staff are working those resources. Something will turn up.”

  Ben clasped Kelly’s hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve been strong. Now isn’t the time to let despair get a hold of you.”

  Peggy stared at their linked hands and failed to bury her shock.

  Kelly let go of Ben and stood. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to step down to the chapel.” It was difficult to talk around the lump in her throat. Her chest was tight, her head throbbed, and disappointment and despair threatened to overtake her. Hopelessness was sinking in, and if she wanted to shirk it, then she needed to fight it. She couldn’t do that alone. “I need a few minutes.”

  Ben shrugged, obviously considering her chapel visit a waste of her time. But that longing look was back in his eyes, and it helped fight her despair.

  “Of course.” Peggy moved to stand. “I’ll walk you down.”

  “No,” Kelly said. “I know the way.”

  “Mrs. Crane?”

  Peggy stopped talking to Ben and said, “Come on in, Mel.”

  “Sorry to interrupt but this is important.” She passed Peggy a single sheet of paper. “It just came in—from that Emily woman. She said she’d stepped away from the fax and just realized it had jammed and not come through.”

  “Thanks.” Peggy took the paper and waited for Mel to leave the office and close the door behind her.

  “What does it say?” Ben scooted forward on his seat.

  Peggy positioned her glasses on her nose, then scanned the page. The color drained from her face.

  “What is it?” Ben insisted, glad Kelly wasn’t here to see Peggy’s reaction. “Is she an ax murderess or something?”

  “It’s not about her, Ben.” Peggy passed the sheet of paper across the desk to him. “It’s about you.”

  He was late.

  Paul Johnson parked in a lot two blocks down Canal Street, paid the attendant in cash, then offered him a generous tip sufficient enough to assure the man got convenient amnesia, should anyone later ask about him. “Not a mark on it.” He hooked a thumb toward his car.

  “No problem,” the eager kid said.

  Figuring at best his odds of keeping that promise were fifty-fifty, Paul hustled two blocks south to the hotel hosting the Emergency Management summit. He checked his watch three times—8:18 p.m. He’d be ten minutes late.

  He hoped that ten minutes hadn’t blown this operation.

  Two women came toward him on the sidewalk. He smiled.

  They smiled back, not missing a step. They’d never recall him. Paul had learned well from the best, the best way to hide in plain sight. Dress well, but not flashy. Be nondescript, bland, and boring. A recent study determined that eighty-six percent of Americans ignore bland and boring people. He’d take those odds.

  Do nothing to snag anyone’s interest. After years of experience, he could out-bore anyone, hands down.

  That put a spring in his step. He walked through the revolving glass door and into the hotel lobby. It’d take patience to get the desired room number. Ordinarily he could finagle it in no time, but this visit, he didn’t want any avoidable interaction.

  For this visit, he had to get in and out of New Orleans without notice, and that included Chessman’s notice. Paul smiled to himself. The man intended to hang Paul out to dry, but of course Paul had no intention of allowing that to happen.

  In this case, stealth was a synonym for freedom.

  And when he was done, Paul would be free.

  18

  Kneeling at the altar in the little chapel, Kelly recited the Lord’s Prayer and her personal prayer of gratitude to God for keeping His word to never forsake her, for giving her that peace of knowing He was with her no matter what happened.

  By the time she rose, she was near tears, though she couldn’t say exactly why.

  The chapel had three short pews, and she went to the first one and sat down. Calm settled over her, and an ease she hadn’t felt before coming to the chapel and praying seeped into her. Her troubles remained. The million questions about herself and her life were still with her. Her fear of her feelings for Ben and not knowing whether or not she had the right to feel anything for him remained. And yet she sensed that, while danger surrounded them both, she would be okay.

  She looked up at the cross on the wall between two small stained-glass windows. Will we be okay?

  Did she have a family? a husband? children? Was she committed to another man? What was her life? Was she content? happy?

  She had no idea. Help me not to dishonor myself or anyone else. Help me not to hurt anyone. Especially Ben. He’s been hurt so badly, Lord.

  She closed her eyes and dared to say the thing most on her mind. You told me to be patient with him, and I’ve tried. I didn’t expect to come to care for him, especially so quickly. But I do care, Lord, and I know these feelings are real. Still, I can’t let myself care for a man who shuts You out of his life.

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes. I can’t face all this on my own
, Lord. But if I can choose one thing and You’ll grant it, then I’ll do my best on my own if You’ll please help Ben find his way back to You.

  Lacing her fingers in her lap, she stiffened against the tightening in her chest. Forfeiting Ben had been difficult, but she’d done the right thing. Anyone facing life without God … well, that had to be the hardest thing in the world to do, even if one lived a charmed life. A charmed life, too, had its challenges. But when one faced the life Ben faced—the loss of his beloved wife and son, the life they’d built serving others.

  He wanted to believe again, but he was more afraid than lost. More fearful of living without his family than of dying. Ben needed the reprieve and certainty of faith.

  Totally exhausted, Kelly yawned and closed her eyes to let them rest. The world was a lonely place when you stood in it alone. Friends were terrific, but they had families, bonds, and connections. And you always stood on the fringes, welcome but not belonging, acutely aware of your isolation. And when all was said and done, you remained an outsider.

  Oh yes. Ben needed faith desperately. In God and in himself. Her mind drifted and she relaxed more, flirting with sleep, sliding deeper and deeper. Only God’s anchor could save Ben.

  His anchor … and His grace.

  “Lucille, where is Johnson?” In the hallway outside his home office, Gregory paused long enough to ask while checking his watch. Eight thirty. “He isn’t answering his cell.”

  “It’s out, sir.” She straightened her glasses on the tip of her nose. “He went to get it repaired or get a new one.”

  That explained that. He never stayed out of touch. “How long ago?”

  Lucille checked her watch. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.”

  “If he calls in, I want to talk with him.” Gregory went into his office, swept it for listening devices, started the white noise to block any communication interceptions, and then sat at his desk.

  What was Edward doing? Blocking the hit on Kelly? He knew more than he should; that much was clear. But about what? The subject, his strategic business alliance with the mayor, or—anything but this—NINA?