Married To A Stranger

by Connie Bennett

  “Good,” he said, smiling happily. “You’ll be safe there, Maddy. I promise.” He turned and reached for one of the shopping bags he’d brought. “Now, would you like to see what I bought for you?”

  “Sure,” she replied. “Let’s see what the well-dressed amnesiac wears to an exclusive resort on her second honeymoon.”

  THE JANITOR ROLLED his bucket-into the small maintenance closet, clicked his mop into the brackets on the wall mounting, closed the door behind him and turned the lock.

  This charade was over. After today, he would no longer need to return to the hospital. He had the information he needed. Just minutes ago he’d heard the nurses gossiping about how lucky the Hopewell woman was to be going to Bride’s Bay to recuperate.

  The news was almost too good to be true. It was perfect, in fact. He had delayed too long in making his move at the hospital, giving the woman’s husband time to triple the guard at her door. The increased security decreased the Raven’s odds of killing the woman and making a clean escape. He’d hung around only to learn what the husband had planned for when the woman left the hospital.

  And now he knew. She was going to Bride’s Bay, where the security was excellent—but where he’d have a much better chance to kill her because he already had a carefully crafted plan to infiltrate the resort. He’d spent months cultivating contacts there and making the necessary preparations. When the time was right, he would blend into the fabric of the resort so completely that no one would ever question his right to be there.

  He would have to be careful, of course. He couldn’t afford to do anything that might disrupt the detailed plan already in place for the biggest contract hit of his career. But with a little luck, he could kill two birds with one stone—first Madeline Hopewell, then the President.

  Whistling merrily, the Raven took off his janitor garb, donned a new costume and slipped out of the closet.

  No one paid the slightest attention to the fair-haired young intern who went bustling through the emergency room doors into the parking lot ten minutes later.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE BLOOD WAS EVERYWHERE. It stained her hands, her clothes, the dirty tile floor around her. The smell of it was worse than the sight, and the sight was something out of a nightmare.

  Some of the blood was hers. She could taste the acrid bite of it on her tongue, but most of the scarlet flood was his—the man whose face she couldn’t quite see, whose words she couldn’t quite hear. His voice was garbled, and no matter how hard she strained to listen, she couldn’t bring the dying man’s message into focus. He pressed something into her hand and babbled more unintelligible words, and then he was gone. Dead. No more words, but blood everywhere and the shrieks of voices like cawing crows.

  Dark, faceless shapes converged on her, pointing accusing fingers in her direction, screaming words she couldn’t understand. She was terrified. It was clear that they blamed her for the blood. The terrible guilt she felt told her that they were right. The blood was her fault, and the screaming demons wanted her to pay for what she’d done. But she couldn’t remember what that was. She didn’t know why the man had died in her arms.

  The demons didn’t care about that; they only cared about retribution. Their dark shapes closed in on her, cutting off her escape when she tried to run. They pinned her into a suffocating space that grew smaller and smaller as they grew closer and closer, until they congealed into one shape, a giant shadow that spread its dark, evil wings and streaked toward her. The black wings enfolded her and the demon laughed at her as she fought desperately against the wings…the terror… the certainty that she was about to die.

  GASPING FOR BREATH, Maddy awoke in the pitchblack hospital room, fighting for air and sanity as the nightmare slithered back into the darkness from which it had emerged. This wasn’t the first time she’d had the dream, and instinct told her it wouldn’t be the last. It had just been a little more vivid this time, which was probably understandable. She was leaving the hospital tomorrow, walking away from the only world she knew into a vast unknown where someone was waiting to kill her.

  She was frightened by that—who wouldn’t be? But that didn’t mean she was weak, did it? No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t escape her fear—or the inexplicable guilt she was left with every time she had the dream. The blood was so vivid that even when she was awake she could sometimes see it, smell it, feel it.

  More than a little nauseated, Maddy rubbed her hands together, trying to make that hot, sticky warmth go away. When that didn’t work, she rubbed her hands on the blanket. Finally she got up, padded across the dark room to the lavatory and scrubbed them with hot soapy water.

  Nothing worked. And the thought that somewhere outside this room a man was dead because of her remained.

  “Or maybe it is just a stupid dream,” she muttered in disgust as she fumbled in the dark for the towel beside the basin. “Didn’t a famous psychiatrist once say, ‘Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar’?”

  She moved to the bed and crawled between the rumpled sheets. “Well, this dream is just a dream, nothing more. You didn’t kill anyone, Madeline. Someone tried to kill you. You’re the victim, not the assassin,” she said vehemently. “Now stop talking to yourself and go to sleep.”

  But it was a long time before she did.

  “THERE IT IS. Jermain Island, dead ahead,” the pilot said pointing. “We’ll be coming in over Smuggler’s Cove, which will give you a really good view of the fourth and fifth holes of the golf course.”

  “Oh, goodie,” Maddy murmured dryly. She didn’t mean to be sarcastic to the charming helicopter pilot who’d picked them up at the hospital helipad fifteen minutes ago, but the roar of the helicopter was making her head pound, and her stomach heaved precariously every time she glanced out the window on her right.

  “Are you okay?” Adam asked in concern as he adjusted the microphone of the headset that matched hers and the pilot’s.

  Maddy attempted a reassuring smile. “Of course. Don’t I look okay?”

  Adam shook his head. “Sorry, but no. You look a little green around the gills—not that green isn’t an attractive color on you,” he added quickly.

  Maddy chuckled. “We’ve been flying so low over the water it’s made me a little nauseated, I guess,” she told him, not bothering to mention that lack of sleep might be a contributing factor. She was already too dependent on Adam; she had no intention of increasing that dependency by running to him with every little problem. Besides, what could he possibly do about her nightmare?

  “Why didn’t you warn me that I get airsick?” she asked him, instead.

  “Because you don’t. In fact, you’re a better flier— not to mention sailor—than I am. This is obviously just another of the side effects from that nasty bump on your head.”

  “Mmm. Let’s hope it’s more short-term than some of the other side effects.”

  “Amen.”

  The chopper—and Maddy’s stomach—gave a small lurch when they hit a strong updraft of air. Solid earth was below them now, and as the helicopter slowed, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths until she felt the craft settle onto its pad.

  Almost instantly her stomach settled, too, leaving nothing but acute embarrassment when she looked up and realized that the handsome, forty-something pilot was studying her.

  He had removed his headset and Maddy did like-wise in time to hear him say, “Sorry about the rough ride, Mrs. Hopewell. Blame it on your doctor. His last instruction to me before we took off was to keep to a low altitude so that you wouldn’t be subjected to too many changes in air pressure.”

  Now that she was feeling better it was easy to forgive him. “I understand, Mr. Masterson. But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take the ferry back to Charleston when I leave.”

  He flashed a roguish grin. “I won’t object—on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to call me Duke.”

  “All right, Duke,” she acquiesce
d, returning his friendly smile.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt, Duke,” Adam said, “but could you let us out of this tin can? My wife needs to get to her room so she can rest.”

  “Certainly,” the pilot replied amiably, completely unfazed by Adam’s brusque tone. Maddy got the distinct impression that Duke flirted with all the female guests, married or single. If he kept it up, Maddy suspected she’d find out whether her husband was the jealous type.

  The passenger door behind Maddy’s seat opened, and the heliport attendant deployed the retractable stairway. Adam offered Maddy a steadying hand, but as soon as she climbed out of the helicopter and the warm, sea breeze brushed her skin, she felt a renewal of her strength.

  Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back so she could relish the feel of the sun on her face.

  Adam gestured toward the white Bride’s Bay minivan across the tarmac. “Why don’t you get us a seat while I check the luggage?”

  The minivan was parked beside a small, cottagelike building that apparently served as the heliport office. Duke Masterson was standing beside the open passenger door of the van as she approached.

  “All aboard!” he called out merrily. “Next stop, Bride’s Bay, main hotel.”

  “You’re the pilot and the chauffeur?” she asked as she approached.

  “Only when I have passengers as beautiful as you—” he grinned mischievously “—or when I have business at the hotel.”

  As he held out a hand to assist her into the van, she asked, “Have you worked here long, Duke?”

  “Almost two years.”

  “It must be a good job, then.”

  “One of the best I’ve ever had,” he replied, leaning against the door. “Sun, sand, elegant surroundings, a steady paycheck, and best of all, I meet some of the most beautiful women in the world on a daily basis.”

  He made the statement with just the right look and enough emphasis to let Maddy know he included her in that final job perk. She chuckled. “Tell me, Duke, are all the Bride’s Bay employees such outrageous flirts?”

  “Absolutely. It’s part of the job.”

  “Really?” She glanced over her shoulder to the rear of the van where Adam was tipping the attendant who’d just loaded their luggage into the back. Thinking of the way he’d snapped at the flirtatious pilot, Maddy murmured, “Well, that ought to make this honeymoon more interesting.”

  “You’re on your honeymoon?” Duke asked.

  The implication of what she’d said hit Maddy like a ton of bricks and she felt her cheeks turn bright red. “No! Absolutely not. This is not a honeymoon,” she said hastily. “Our trip to Bride’s Bay was originally supposed to be a second honeymoon, but our anniversary plans were scuttled by my accident,” she explained.

  Adam slid into the seat next to Maddy just in time to hear those last few words, and his eyebrows shot up at her choice of the word “accident,” but Maddy didn’t retract it. Dr. Manion hadn’t explained the full nature of her head injury to the helicopter pilot, and Maddy didn’t want to spend the next few days explaining that she had amnesia to everyone she met.

  Duke slid the passenger door closed, and as he circled the van, Adam’s curious expression turned to one of concern as he looked at Maddy. “Are you all right? You look flushed.”

  He raised his hand to her forehead to check her temperature, but Maddy waved him off. “I’m just a little tired, I guess.”

  As soon as they were underway, Duke asked, “So, what anniversary will you two be celebrating?”

  “Our tenth,” Adam replied.

  “When, exactly?”

  Maddy knew Adam wasn’t thrilled by the pilot’s questions, but he answered, anyway. “A week from Wednesday. Why? Are you planning on giving us a party?”

  Duke shot a quick glance over his shoulder. “Yes, actually. That was pretty much what I had in mind. The manager of Bride’s Bay takes great pride in providing personalized service to all our guests. I’m sure Ms. Jermain will want to do something special to help you celebrate.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Maddy said quickly. She had no desire to celebrate the anniversary of a wedding she couldn’t remember, and she was determined to avoid anything that even hinted at romanticism.

  Adam might not have shared her feelings, but clearly he understood them. “No, it’s not necessary at all,” he said. “My wife and I are planning a very quiet celebration.”

  “No problem,” Duke replied. “I’m certain Ms. Jermain will take that into consideration. Surely even a quiet celebration could make use of a complimentary bottle of champagne.”

  Maddy darted a nervous glance at her husband. “I suppose that’d be all right. Please…just don’t let anyone make a fuss.”

  “All right. No fuss,” Duke promised.

  They fell silent, and Maddy shook off her discomfort by studying the impeccably manicured grounds of the island resort, looking for anything that seemed familiar. They were following the shoreline of a wide cove dotted with sailboats and pleasure, craft of every description. A small village and marina lay directly ahead, and across the bay Maddy could see the twin spires of a large, two-story structure.

  “What’s that building to the south?” she asked. “The one with the flags on top of what appear to be turrets.”

  “That’s the clubhouse, where you’ll find the golf pro shop, the health spa, indoor pool, racquetball and tennis courts and a juice bar. Its facilities are open to all guests and island residents,” Duke explained. “Are you a golfer, Mrs. Hopewell?”

  Maddy felt a small stab of panic and she looked at Adam. He came to her rescue immediately. “No, my wife isn’t much of a golfer,” Adam told Duke. “It’s a little too slow for her taste. She prefers tennis.”

  If Duke noticed that Maddy didn’t answer for herself, he didn’t comment on it. “What about horseback riding?”

  Again Maddy looked to Adam, but this time he just gave her an emphatic nod. “Yes, I enjoy riding very much,” she told Duke.

  “Then you’re in luck. The Bride’s Bay stable is one of the best in the state, and the riding trails through the wilderness area are beautiful at this time of year.”

  Adam was right, she obviously did like horses, because she found the idea of a ride very appealing. Before she could say so, though, Adam was telling Duke, “Yes, I remember all the wildflowers that were in bloom on the trails the last time we were here. We’ll have to check with Dr. Manion to see how long it’ll be before Maddy is able to ride.”

  “You’ve been to Bride’s Bay before?” Duke asked.

  “On our honeymoon,” Adam replied.

  “Well, welcome back.”

  Duke didn’t seem puzzled by the fact that she hadn’t recognized a building she’d have seen on her honeymoon, Maddy thought. He probably hadn’t caught the inconsistency, she decided.

  Duke went on to tell Adam about some of the changes that had been made in the resort in the last ten years, but Maddy listened with only half an ear to the conversation about beach cabanas and new security surveillance cameras. Her full attention shifted back to her surroundings as she searched for something familiar among the moss-draped live oaks, towering magnolia trees, palmettos and the parklike lawn trimmed with banks of sculpted azalea bushes. At last a magnificent antebellum mansion appeared at the end of the road, like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

  It was an imposing structure, two stories with a veranda on both levels and a couple of sprawling additions. Maddy fell in love with it instantly—but unfortunately, nothing seemed even remotely familiar.

  About the time Maddy realized that all conversation in the van had ceased she also felt Adam’s eyes on her, searching for a glimmer of recognition on her face. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her own disappointment was keen; she didn’t need to feel the weight of his, as well.

  Duke stopped the van and Adam didn’t wait for him to come around to open the sliding door. He did it himself and cli
mbed out, then turned and gave Maddy a hand out.

  “Well?” he asked anxiously as soon as she was on her feet.

  Maddy looked up at the lovely hotel and shook her head. “I recognize the architectural style of the building, but that’s all. I’m sorry, Adam,” she added with genuine regret.

  He shook his head. “Quit saying that, Maddy. None of this is your fault. Come on. Let’s get checked in.” He moved up the stairs, past the doorman into an elegant entry hall, and Maddy followed, noting every detail of the magnificent room, from the sweeping central staircase to the shops that lined the hall on her left. Still nothing triggered her memory. They crossed to the front desk and Maddy waited patiently as Adam signed an old-fashioned guest register while the clerk behind the counter punched their names into a computer.

  The door to the manager’s office behind the front desk opened, and an attractive, smartly dressed woman carrying a portfolio and a sheath of computer printouts emerged.

  “Ms. Jermain?” Adam asked, raising his voice slightly.

  The woman turned toward him and stepped to the desk with a perfect may-I-help-you smile in place. “Yes?”

  “I’m Adam Hopewell. We spoke on the phone.”

  Liz Jermain’s smile broadened appreciably. “Of course, Mr. Hopewell. Welcome to Bride’s Bay.” Her look encompassed both Adam and Maddy. It was clear she knew who they were, but she tactfully refrained from mentioning their unusual circumstances. “If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable, I hope you’ll let me know.”

  “Thank you,” Adam said. “In fact I wondered if I might meet with you later this morning, if you have a few minutes free.”

  “Certainly. I have a staff luncheon at noon, but any time before that you’ll find me here in my office.”

  “Thank you.”

  Liz Jermain turned her attention to assisting the desk clerk, Moira Petty, handing over two room keys as Adam signed the computer copy of their registration slip. She gestured across the lobby to a whitehaired man in his mid-sixties, who came over immediately. “This is Shadroe Teach, our bell captain and resident historian,” Liz explained. “Shad’s great-great-great-grandfather was one of the island’s first settlers, so if there’s anything you’d like to know about Jermain Island or Bride’s Bay, he’s the man to ask.”