Geoff shot her an impenetrable look. “Why did I do that?”
She shrugged. “You tell me. The reason I asked you for a divorce was because I was sick to death of living in the same house with a man who refused to communicate with me.”
He seemed to be turning that around in his mind as they reached the outskirts of Northridge and he slowed for a stop sign. Devon took the opportunity to examine the small town since she hadn’t had a chance the previous evening.
Judging by appearances, she’d say that Northridge probably didn’t have a population of more than a couple of thousand people, if that. But it was a quaint little place, even when seen on a gray day after a December blizzard, she thought wryly Geoff turned left on Jumper Avenue, and she spied the now-familiar pink neon sign advertising The Diner. Farther down the street she saw signs for Radio Shack, Jim’s T.V. Repair, an Esso station, and a Safeway Geoff braked to a halt in an angle-parking slot before the restaurant and wordlessly got out, coming around to open Devon’s door where he grasped her elbow to escort her the few steps to the restaurant.
“Thank you,” she murmured as he opened the restaurant door, holding it for her to precede him As soon as she’d stepped past him, he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her. The contact, which once she’d been so accustomed to that she would scarcely have noticed, was now disconcerting, somehow too intimate.
“This way,” he said, indicating that she precede him.
The Diner was redolent with the scents of French fries, hamburgers, and fresh coffee. The fluorescent lighting, made harsh by the unnatural gloom of the day, uncharitably illuminated the scarred tables, blue vinyl booth seats and sturdy chrome chairs. But appearance didn’t seem to matter: The restaurant was crowded. And, if the meals were consistently as good as the late supper she’d had here the previous evening, Devon could understand why.
Geoff guided her toward an empty booth in an area near the rear of the restaurant where there were fewer people, obviously seeking privacy for the discussion he wanted to have Only seconds after they’d taken a seat, a waitress wearing a name tag identifying her as Maureen arrived with a pair of menus and a carafe of coffee. Maureen was fortyish with short curly brown hair, worldly blue eyes, and the lined face of a heavy smoker. Before she even had a chance to so much as open her mouth in greeting, a man yelled from somewhere near the center of the diner “Hey, Moe, bring me a piece of that apple pie, will you?”
Maureen didn’t even turn to look at the caller. “Hold your horses, Harvey,” she called over her shoulder. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” Then she looked at Geoff. “Afternoon, Jack.”
“Hi, Maureen,” he said quietly, but he didn’t smile. The lack of warmth in his greeting didn’t seem to bother the waitress, however. She was probably used to it, Devon reflected. Maureen merely switched her gaze to Devon and, with a gesture of the carafe toward the coffee cup sitting upside down on a saucer on the table, asked, “Coffee?”
“Please.” Devon automatically smiled slightly though she was too tense to feel much like smiling, and turned the cup over to accept the fragrant brew.
“You must be the lady that Tammy said she gave directions to last night?”
Devon smiled at the unabashed inquisitiveness inherent in the small town personality. “That would be me,” she acknowledged. “I’m Devon Grayson”
“Maureen Hillaby,” the waitress returned, and then with a glance in Jack’s direction said, “I see you found him all right.”
“Yes.”
A second later, the waitress finished filling Geoff’s cup, handed them each a menu, and moved away. Geoff stared at his coffee for a while, sipped it thoughtfully, and then lifted his gaze to meet Devon’s. “I need to ask you something.”
“All right,” Devon said with a touch of wanness. This sounded serious.
He cleared his throat. “Do you think our marital problems in those last months might have been because—” He broke off, took another sip of his coffee, and allowed his gaze to slide away
Devon frowned. “Because of what. Geoff”
He didn’t look at her “Do you think I might have had an affair?”
Devon hesitated, considering his question. “I considered that actually What woman wouldn’t in that situation? But I decided it was pretty unlikely ”
“Why?”
“Because I almost never had any trouble reaching you. If you weren’t at home, you were at the office, and vice versa. It would have been pretty difficult for you to have an affair when there was so little time ”
Geoff nodded, but the frown on his face told her that he still didn’t totally accept Devon’s evaluation of the situation.
“What made you ask?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a thought.” He took another sip of his coffee and, when next he spoke, seemed to be off on another tangent. “Were we close friends with the Lorings?”
“We were more than friends with the Lorings, Geoff They were family ”
“In what way?”
Everything within Devon went still. Oh, God! He didn’t know. Of course he doesn’t know. He has amnesia. She closed her eyes briefly, wishing there was an easy way to tell him
“Devon?”
There was no easy way. “Holly Loring was your sister, Geoff. It was through you that she met Spencer.”
Geoff set down his coffee cup with a slight clatter, and stared at Devon. Something fearful and intense smoldered in the depths of his olive green irises. “My sister?” he repeated.
Devon nodded.
His hand clenched on the handle of his coffee cup. “It was my sister who died in that crash?”
“Yes, Geoff. I’m sorry.”
“But she didn’t look anything like me,” he protested “There was a picture. She was fair.. blond.”
“That’s true. Holly lightened her hair, and she inherited your father’s skin tones. You take after your mother.”
“Tell me—”
“So, are you folks ready to order?” Maureen asked as she approached their booth.
Geoff stared at the waitress blankly for a second, and then, with a frown, opened his menu and began to scan it quickly. Maureen looked in Devon’s direction and raised a questioning brow. “I’ll just have your soup of the day and a tossed salad with ranch dressing on the side,” she said.
“Steak sandwich for me, please,” Geoff said when Maureen had finished recording Devon’s order on her pad and was once again looking in his direction. “And more coffee.”
“Comin’ right up ”
When the waitress had refilled their cups and moved away again, Geoff continued as though there’d been no interruption. “Tell me about my parents,” he said in a low tone. “Where do they live?”
“I never met your father. You told me that he passed away in an accident when you were sixteen. Your mother lives in Maple Ridge. She likes to be close to Vancouver where she can show her sculptures and paintings.” Devon hesitated, and then plunged ahead. “For the last few years you two hadn’t gotten along very well ”
His gaze fastened on her face. “Why?”
Devon swallowed. “She remarried, Geoff. You didn’t approve of her choice.”
Geoff frowned, and the expression was somehow much more forbidding than she remembered. “Is she happy?” he asked
“Oh, yes. Very happy. They do a lot of travelling together. He’s an artist too, so they share many of the same interests.”
“Then why didn’t I approve?”
Devon swallowed, uncertain as to whether she should bring all of this up again now. But what was to be gained by waiting? “You were concerned that Robert was using your mother He’s about five years younger than she is, and not quite as successful as an artist yet, so most of the travelling they do is at your mother’s expense.”
Geoff considered that silently for a moment, then asked, “Can she afford it?”
Devon smiled. “Oh, yeah I think so She told me that her last sculpture s
old for a very nice piece of change.”
“If she can afford it, and this Robert makes her happy, then I don’t see the problem.” He shrugged.
At that moment, Maureen brought their meal and conversation waned although they continued to speak casually about the children and Devon’s parents.
As they drove back to his place a short time later, Jack pondered all that he’d learned. And yet, no matter how much he learned, he was always left with more questions. The incredible sense of loss he felt whenever he thought of Holly Loring could definitely be explained by the fact that she’d been his sister. But, if he hadn’t been having an affair, then what could have caused the problems in his marriage to Devon in those last few months? Something work-related? And, if it was something work-related, why hadn’t he been able to talk to Devon about the problem? It didn’t make sense.
He looked over at the woman who was still his wife. His wife. He liked the sense of belonging that word brought with it And, so far, he liked Devon.
Oh, he knew that she still wanted a divorce. He sensed that she was just biding her time, humoring him, until she felt the time was right to broach the subject again. And she was probably right. Now that he knew his identity—even if it all still seemed a bit unreal—he could reclaim his life without trying to reclaim his marriage. But, he didn’t want to give up the possibility of getting it all back. If he never came to care for Devon, if she couldn’t learn to love him again, then yes, he would agree to a divorce But it was much too soon to sign away that chance.
Damn, he wished he knew what had happened in those last six months of their marriage. A thought occurred to him. “You said that Spencer’s estate is still being sued by a number of companies who had losses. Right?”
Devon looked at him and nodded “Yes. Why?”
“So people have pretty much accepted the fact that Spencer was into something illegal?”
She frowned. “I don’t know if I’d go that far. What’s accepted is that the security systems installed by his company are at fault for the losses. Whether Spencer was into something illegal, or whether he was as much of a victim as the companies who had the losses hasn’t been determined and I’m not sure it ever will be. The systems could have been tampered with before they were installed. But, since Fort Knox Security was liable for damages, I guess that liability has passed to the estate.”
“But I thought you said he bought those security systems from Future-Tech.”
Devon met his gaze. “That’s right.”
“So why isn’t Future-Tech sharing in that liability?”
She shrugged. “You’d have to ask my father about that I think he was able to prove that the systems were fine when they left the Future-Tech warehouse, but I don’t know for sure how he handled it.”
Jack considered. “Don’t you think it’s just a little odd that we started having problems with our marriage at the same time that all this was going on? Maybe I was involved in it in some way. Maybe that’s what was bothering me.”
Devon nodded. “I had thought of that, but I don’t see how you could have been involved unless it was somehow accomplished against your will. You were simply too honest to have done anything shady. And since I believed that both you and Spencer were dead, I abandoned that course of thought as useless because I didn’t have any way to find out Even now, we’re not any further ahead if you have no memory of those times.”
Jack stared stonily at the road ahead. “Maybe it will start coming back to me.” He wanted to regain his memory. More than anything. But he knew he was grasping at straws.
After making arrangements for Devon to return to his place for dinner and then returning her to her Jeep so she could go and check in to the bed-and-breakfast, Jack had gone through an abbreviated version of his workday. It was a bit of a late start, but winter workdays were short anyway. The first thing on his agenda had been a meeting with his employers. George and Rita Landes. Now officially retired, they had begun the Deer Lake Resort more than thirty years earlier and despite their retired status, still oversaw everything. Jack hadn’t been quite sure how they’d react to his precipitous request for a leave of absence, but, one way or another, Jack was determined to return to Kelowna with Devon. How else could he find out about himself, about the man he’d been?
As it turned out, he needn’t have worried about the Landeses’ reaction In fact, Jack received the distinct impression that his request for a minimum of a month’s leave of absence was almost welcomed by George, for it would give the old man an excuse to get his hands dirty again
With notice of his imminent departure taken care of, Jack had made a quick security check on the cabins. That was when he’d discovered the truck parked at the Scottses’ cabin—a cabin that was supposed to be sealed up for the winter while the Scotts were in Arizona. And the truck had looked suspiciously like the one he’d seen leaving the Noralco site the night of the explosion.
Damn! He’d have to notify the police.
It was three-fifteen when Jack pulled up to the small stone building on Jumper Avenue that housed the local police detachment. Tension coiled in his gut as he eyed the place. The last thing he wanted to do was go in. After two years of avoiding cops it was kind of hard to simply discard his ingrained caution. But...he didn’t see that he had a choice. Setting his jaw, he opened the door of the Bronco and, thoughtfully, made his way up the walk to the police station.
When Jack entered the building, Sergeant Kane appeared to be in the process of making coffee. “You here to see me?” the six-foot-three-inch cop demanded before the door had even closed behind Jack.
Jack nodded. “I don’t know if it’s anything or not, but I thought I should mention it to you.”
“Well then, Jack—” He halted. “May I call you Jack?”
Jack shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Kane smiled. “And you might as well call me Tom. Everyone else in this town does.” He set a clean pair of cups out. “Anyway, as I was saying, you might as well join me for coffee. The afternoon’s only half over, and I need an infusion.”
A minute later, having prepared his coffee to his satisfaction, Kane handed Jack a cup of the hot black brew and grew serious. “So, did you remember something else?”
Jack shook his head. “No, but I did see a truck parked out at the lake today that looks a lot like the one I saw the other night.” He sipped his coffee before continuing. “I thought you might want to check it out.”
Kane nodded. “I appreciate that. Where can I find it?”
Jack gave Kane directions.
“If I come across a guy who fits the description of the one you gave me this morning, are you going to be around to come in and take a stab at identifying him?”
Jack nodded. “I should be around for a day or so anyway.”
“Great. I’ll call you if I need to talk to you then.”
Fifteen minutes later, having finished their coffee and talked more about the prospect of the coming fishing season on Deer Lake than of anything else, Jack left the station. He was in the process of driving home to start his supper preparations for the evening ahead with Devon when he spied her going into the local Radio Shack and hesitated.
What was she doing? he wondered. Should he join her?
He was finding himself more and more attracted to her all the time, and it was happening so quickly that he wasn’t sure he liked it. The one area where he preferred to maintain absolute command was over his emotions. So many things in his life had been beyond his control for so long that he’d taken solace in the fact that his emotions at least were manageable. Now, he found the idea that his command over his emotions was slipping, that it may indeed have been only an illusion all along, rather disturbing. He needed control.
But he also rather liked Devon.
His thoughts flitted toward her fiancé, and he wondered rather caustically how opposed the man was to a long engagement. Because Jack was in no hurry to sign away his right to an association with the wife he
did not remember.
He wanted, needed to remember her, to recall the feelings he’d once had for her He wanted to remember what it had been like to share in the birth of his children. He wanted to remember everything...their love...the cause of their problems in those final months together And he wasn’t about to let her out of his life until he’d given himself the chance to summon all those memories from wherever they were buried.
Why couldn’t he remember? Dammit! He slapped the palm of his hand against the steering wheel as frustration sawed through him. But, as pain stabbed through his temples, the warning sign that another of his debilitating headaches was on the way, Jack realized that his frustration served no purpose. Reaching into the breast pocket of his shirt to extract a small container, he removed a pill and swallowed it quickly before the headache could get its teeth into hum. One pill wouldn’t knock him out, and if he caught them promptly enough, he could usually head off the type of agonizing episode that he’d had the night Devon had arrived.
That done, he put the Bronco back into drive and headed down Juniper Street to the Radio Shack. He had a legitimate excuse to go there after all If Geoff Grayson was supposed to be some kind of computer expert, Jack needed to start testing that knowledge to see if any of his expertise would return to him. To do that, he needed a computer.
He could afford it. He’d saved a considerable sum of money since coming to Northridge and going to work at the resort, so that was no problem. He just wasn’t certain he was ready to put himself to that particular test yet
Parking in front of the store, he sat staring at the computer display in the window, hesitant to enter Devon was in there. Was she trying to determine how to test his knowledge of those aspects of his life? Probably What other reason could she have for going to a Radio Shack when she herself had said that her expertise with computers was limited?
What if he couldn’t remember? What if this important part of his life, of who he had been, eluded him as determinedly as his personal memories? And yet he couldn’t avoid putting himself to the test for much longer. Before he attempted to reclaim his life in Kelowna, he needed to know how much of his memory he could regain
A Season Of Miracles Page 7
