by Nic Saint
And as the song concluded, the questions marks in my head simply grew in number, until they threatened to dissolve me into oblivion.
“Who am I?” I asked of no one in particular. “Who the hell am I?”
Magali drew herself up. “Whoever you are, you need fattening up. You’re positively starved, dear!”
Through my tears, I laughed. “Fattening up? What am I, a turkey?”
“Not a turkey. A fine young lady, and if I have a say in it, you’ll get the nourishment you need right here.”
I glanced over at Jack. “I... don’t know how long I’ll be staying, so...”
“You can stay as long as you want,” Jack assured me.
Magali eyed me brightly. “See? Three square meals a day is what you need, and three square meals is what you’ll get, or my name isn’t Magali Contretoire.”
I smiled at the hospitality of Jack’s housekeeper, and turned to thank her employer for the extended invitation.
“You heard. You want fattening up and fattening up is what you’ll get.”
In response, I stuck out my tongue at him, but he merely grinned.
Magali, looking from me to Jack, displayed proper discretion by announcing that if we needed her, she’d be upstairs taking care of some unfinished business, and retreated.
The violin music still hung in the air, filling the kitchen with its cheerful melody. But no matter how uplifting it was, I couldn’t help but feel sad at the thought I might one day have attended one of Jack’s mother’s concerts and was unable to remember.
I suddenly turned serious, and rested my head on the table. “Do you think I’ll ever remember, Jack? Do you think I’ll ever know about my life?”
He walked round the table and knelt down beside me so his face was level with mine. Like me, he’d grown solemn. “Deep down inside of you, something knows everything that has ever happened to you. And one day it will all be revealed to you. Like a rush of water or a gust of wind, all your memories will come flooding back into your mind.”
“Do you promise me?”
He trailed a finger along my cheek, then my lips. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I promise.” Then he leaned in, and brushed my lips with his, his hands framing my face.
Softly, tenderly, he stirred the deepest core of me, and the touch of his lips mingled with the ageless sound of the violin until my mind drifted off into nothingness, carried on the song of our hearts, beating as one.
My Jack.
My love.
Chapter 26
Jacques returned that afternoon, bringing tidings of joy. He’d found the man who had attacked Jack and accosted Magali in the street last night.
His name was Rainer and he was a painter of sorts. It hadn’t taken the police long to make the connection between the duo they’d caught breaking into Jack’s house and this Rainer character. Apparently he was a cousin of Seth, husband of the dragon lady.
“We have him in custody now,” assured Jacques. “And as expected, he sang like a canary once we started leaning on him.”
They were seated in Jack’s living room, just the three of them: Jack, Valerie and the police officer. Magali had taken Rufus for a walk and wouldn’t be back for at least an hour, having some errands to run.
Valerie’s eyes were wide with anticipation, and Jack, too, felt the thrill of finally seeing this puzzle solved.
“So? What did he say? Who am I? Why did they kidnap me?”
Jacques’s expression was grave. “Are you ready for this, Valerie?”
Before Valerie started screaming, Jack interjected, “I think we’re both quite ready, buddy. So spill.”
“You might not like it,” the policeman grumbled as he took out his notebook. “First off, they kidnapped you not for the money, but for revenge.”
“Revenge? Why? How? Who!”
“Perhaps if you just let Jacques finish the story, honey...”
Valerie motioned locking her mouth with a key and throwing it away, and Jacques resumed his narrative.
“Apparently, though I don’t know how much credence we should attach to the man’s words, your father once did something against this Seth character’s father, and abducting you seemed like the appropriate response. An eye for an eye and all that jazz. Only thing is, even though Rainer is the cousin of the perpetrator of this foul plot, apparently they didn’t trust him enough to divulge the extent of it.”
Valerie, in spite of her promise to remain quiet, let out a groan of annoyance. “He doesn’t know?”
“Well, he knows it’s not about the money, and he knows that your father is some hotshot in the banking world.” He tapped his notebook. “And, more importantly, he also knows that your real name isn’t Valerie Lorgnasse at all.”
“What!”
Jacques grinned at both Jack’s and Valerie’s consternation. “The plot thickens, hein? Valerie Lorgnasse is the name you give yourself, but it’s not your real name.” He tapped his little notebook. “Unfortunately, he couldn’t be more clear about that point, because he found it all very confusing as well, and when he asked Linda Soakes—alias Jeannine Müller—for clarification, she bluntly refused. Saying he was a dumb-ass and an idiot and yadda yadda yadda.” He barked a curt laugh. “Seems he was subjected to so much abuse that he finally cracked under the strain and decided enough was enough. All he wants to do is paint, and kidnapping people was starting to come between him and his art. Allegedly.”
“Come on!” cried Valerie, balling her hands into fists and looking for something—or someone—to hit. “This can’t be happening! So my name isn’t Valerie Lorgnasse? Then what is it?”
“At least this explains why it didn’t ring a bell,” offered Jack.
Valerie eyed him intently. “My dad is a rich banker. Perhaps your dad knows him? Perhaps...” Her face cleared. “Perhaps your dad knows me!”
The idea hadn’t occurred to Jack. “Perhaps he does. Dad knows an awful lot of people in the world of finance.”
Jacques closed his notebook. “But does he know all his colleagues’ daughters? That’s the question.”
“Perhaps he does. Perhaps we met at some function.”
“But if that were the case, wouldn’t Jack have met you as well? He travels in the same circles, don’t you, Jack?”
Jack gave this some thought. “I’ve been relegated to the Belgian branch for going on a decade now. I’m probably on a first name basis with all the Belgian bankers, but in France? I hardly know a soul, except for the people who used to come to our house when I was a boy. And even those I wouldn’t remember even if I saw them again.” He drummed his fingers on the mahogany table. “No, Valerie is right. If her father is a prominent banker, my father must know him.”
“That’s it, then. Your father is arriving tonight. Perhaps all will finally be revealed. He’ll know me, he’ll lead me to my dad, and we all live happily ever after.”
Both Jack and the police officer couldn’t suppress a smile at her girlish enthusiasm.
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up, if I were you, young lady,” stated Jacques as he got up from the table. “In the meantime, I’ll keep plugging away at this case with my customary aplomb, and perhaps this elusive happy end will finally become a reality before long.”
“I have a good feeling about this, Jack,” said Valerie after their policeman friend had said his goodbyes. “I really think your father might be the clue to this mystery.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Jack diplomatically.
He’d never known his old man to be the answer to anyone’s hopes and dreams, but he was willing to grant him the benefit of the doubt for Valerie’s sake. And in fact he did hope that they’d finally discover the truth behind this persistent mystery that had taken over his life for the past two days now.
One thing he did know, was that he’d grown to love this woman, and that even if they finally discovered the truth behind her identity, he simply couldn’t imagine being apart from her again.
He gent
ly took her hand in his and placed a tender kiss on it.
“What was that for?” she asked softly.
“Just... for no reason.” Then, amending, he added, “I like you, Valerie Lorgnasse. Or Melanie Harper. Or whatever your name will turn out to be. I’ve grown extremely fond of you these last few days, and I just wanted you to know I’m glad—I know this might sound weird—I’m glad all this happened.”
She eyed his skeptically. “You’re glad I was kidnapped?”
“Glad because otherwise we might never have met. And now that we did...” Usually a smooth talker, Jack suddenly found himself drowning in a quagmire of ill-expressed sentiments. “I mean...”
She gave him a lovely smile. “I know, Jack. I feel the same way about you.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment, being irrevocably drawn to each other. Jack longed to feel her lips on his again, her body wrapped around him like it had in the shower that morning. He hadn’t dared suggest they make love again. Not with Magali pottering about in the house, and the cleaning lady coming in to help her deal with the upstairs.
But the longing was so strong, he’d almost given into it, Magali and the other members of the staff be damned. But then Jacques had called, and now here they were, pining for each other and unable to do anything about it.
Before they had the chance to scratch that itch, Magali entered the living room, and in that same moment, the doorbell rang, announcing yet another visitor.
Christ, Jack thought darkly. Just when he wanted to be alone with Valerie, his house was turning into a veritable beehive all of a sudden.
Ten seconds later his father strode into the room, looking cold and imperious as always. The moment he laid eyes on Valerie, his eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. Shooting out an indignant finger, he thundered, “What he hell is she doing here!”
Chapter 27
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. The sight of Jack Carter Sr had stirred a memory. It seemed to linger at the edge of my mind, and the frustration of not being able to grab hold of it added to my annoyance.
He was an imposing man, big and strong, with a full head of gray hair and piercing blue eyes set in a fleshy face. I could see where Jack had gotten his good looks from, though his father had put on quite a few pounds over the years, undoing some of mother nature’s blessings.
“Have we met?”
“Of course we have!” cried the irate old man. “Don’t stand there pretending that we haven’t. Why, the sheer nerve!”
“Dad, dad! Valerie is the woman I told you about. She lost her memory? So I suggest you go easy on her, all right?”
Jack’s dad looked from me to his son. “What do you mean, lost her memory?” He fixed me with a look of confusion. “You mean to tell me you don’t know who I am?”
“That’s exactly right, sir. Even if I’ve met you before, I don’t remember. I—” I swallowed uncomfortably. “I don’t even remember my own name.”
“Well, at least that’s something, as it’s more the name than the person I strongly object to.”
Both Jack and I stared at the man, anxiously awaiting his next words. Finally, when he merely stood there, glowering, Jack urged, “Well? Out with it, Dad. What is her name?”
He turned away, and muttered something under his breath that neither I nor Jack could comprehend. When he turned back to us, he held out a slip of paper.
Taking it, I saw that it was a newspaper clipping, folded so tightly that the creases had chipped away at the ink. Opening it, I found myself staring at the picture of a girl accompanied by an older man. Beneath the picture ran the caption ‘Gracie Travers and her father, Franklin Travers, attend a flower show at the Jardin des Tuileries.’ Above the article was titled in bold, ‘Franklin Travers to receive Légion d’honneur.’
I looked up at the man, not comprehending. “What is this?”
“Can’t you read, woman,” he ejaculated impatiently. “Gracie Travers. That’s you. And that despicable human gargoyle standing next to you is Franklin Travers. Your father and the most dishonorable fellow to ever walk this earth. If I never lay eyes on him again it will be too soon.”
Slack-jawed, I stared at the man. “What—”
“Dad, I think you have some explaining to do. What’s all this about Franklin Travers and... Gracie—is that really your name?”
I merely shrugged.
Jack’s father gestured impatiently. “Travers and I were friends and colleagues at one time. We were even roommates in college, back when being roommates still formed an unbreakable bond between young men. After finishing our education, we decided to go into business together, Franklin’s father being something of a bigwig in the banking world. We had plans to take over the business eventually, working as equal partners.”
As Jack’s dad told us the story of his relationship with Franklin Travers, it all became clear. Franklin and Jack had worked together in the understanding that they were equal partners in the bank, but when Franklin’s father passed away, Franklin had decided to oust his long-time friend and partner and take complete control of the business.
Jack had been kicked to the curb, and from that day, the two former friends had become mortal enemies.
I stared down at the picture. “So my name is Gracie Travers and this is my father,” I softly intoned.
“Look, young lady,” clarified the senior Carter, “I have nothing against you personally, but I swore a sacred oath never to have any dealings with your father or his family ever again, do you understand?”
I did. Whatever this animosity between my father and Jack’s was, it had nothing to do with me.
I felt something stir in my bosom, and realized it was elation. Finally the pieces of the puzzles were falling into place. For some reason, my father had become the target of an attack by this Jeannine Müller and her husband, and they had selected me as the best way to take revenge on him.
What he had done to upset them so we still didn’t know, but now that I knew who I was, it wouldn’t be long before I did.
“Jack. I need to—”
“Get in touch with your family. Already on it.” He handed me his iPhone, the number of a Franklin Grant selected in the display. I swallowed away a lump in my throat as I gingerly took the phone and pressed the green connect button.
I listened to the dial tone, and when the gruff voice of a man sounded, I stuttered, “D-d-dad?”
There was a momentary silence on the other end, then the soft expulsion of air, and the cry, “Gracie? Is that you? By God, where are you?”
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m in Paris, at the house of a friend.”
For a moment, confused voices made it impossible to discern anything intelligible, but then a woman’s voice asked, “Gracie, honey. What happened?”
I don’t know how, but instinctively I knew I was talking to my mother. Tears flooded my eyes. “Mom? I was kidnapped. Somebody took me.”
“Oh, honey! We thought you went hiking with Natasha. When we didn’t hear from you, we figured you’d been unable to find a phone.”
“Find a phone? Where did you think I was?”
“Why, in Alaska, of course. That’s where you said you were going last time we spoke. Don’t you remember?”
“I...” Something tugged at the edge of my mind at these words. Alaska? Natasha? “Something must have happened, then, because Jack Carter fished me out of a Belgian river two days ago, where I was dumped by my abductors.”
“Abductors? Belgium? Honey, you’re not making any sense.” Then, suddenly, my father came on the line again. “Did you just mention the name ‘Jack Carter’, Gracie?”
“Yes, Daddy. His son is the one who saved me.”
“Where are you? I’m coming to get you right now!”
“That’s okay, Dad. Jack can take me home.”
“Not a chance. You’re not spending one more minute with that man! Jack Carter is the worst piece of scum on the face of this earth, and if I never see his face
again, I’ll die a happy man.”
Chapter 28
It didn’t take long for Gracie’s father to arrive. Jack’s dad, upon learning that his former friend and rival would be coming to the house to pick up Gracie, quickly excused himself and ran off faster than Jack had seen him move in years.
The prospect of laying eyes on Franklin Travers obviously filled him with the kind of dread only mortal enemies can experience when forced to revisit a demon from their past.
Jack was sure that Gracie’s father felt exactly the same, for when he finally showed up, he refused to set foot inside the house with all the delicacy and consideration of a stubborn mule.
“You come out of there right now, young lady, or I will not be held responsible for the consequences,” he boomed over the phone.
Jack could see his car idling out in front, and had even briefly considered waving at the man to invite him in for a drink and the chance to meet. But Gracie thought it better not to taunt the old man.
“If we want to keep on seeing each other, Jack, it’s important to appease my family, not enrage them further.”
He enveloped her in a warm embrace. “You want to keep seeing me, huh?”
She lifted her face, a sweet smile playing about her lips. “I do, Jack Carter, but only if you agree, of course.”
“Of course. And what if I don’t?”
The smile disappeared, and was replaced by a look of doubt. He immediately regretted his tactless words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I do want to keep seeing you, Melanie, Valerie and Gracie. There’s nothing I want more than to be with you all the time.”
“I need to be with my family now, Jack.”
He wanted to say that he was her family now, that he needed her more than her own flesh and blood, but he feared this wouldn’t go over well. The yearning in his heart had him spout the most ridiculous nonsense, for instead he said, “Let’s elope together. Let’s pretend this whole episode never happened. That we met under normal circumstances and our families are on the best of terms.”
