Heir to Secret Memories

by Mallory Kane

  He couldn’t tell Paige what impulse had made him insist that she pull over right at that spot, or how he knew the faded letter on the bait shop sign was a Y. But when he’d seen the old building, he’d had to stop.

  Then he’d turned his back on the water and looked at the house, and realized that he’d felt its presence before he’d seen it.

  Something had shifted inside him as he stepped onto the porch. An odor, a fleeting vision of a room or a piece of furniture? He had no idea what had flickered across his inner vision in that instant, but he was sure of one thing. It was connected to the house, and it was connected to him.

  He knew this house.

  He investigated the bricks with both hands, touching them, pulling on them, testing them to see if they were loose.

  “Johnny?”

  He closed his eyes for an instant. The guarded hope combined with fatigue in Paige’s voice pulled at his compassion. She was pinning all her hopes on Katie being here. He realized, despite his admonishment to Paige, he was too. Because if she wasn’t here, he had no clue where to look next.

  Still, for the first time, he had something solid he could work with. There was something inside him besides loneliness, strange dreams and a punishing regret that he had nothing to give this beautiful woman who was depending on him to save her child.

  Their child.

  He couldn’t stop now. He was so afraid the crumb of familiarity that he’d managed to glean would float away, leaving him with nothing. He had to hold on to that crumb. Maybe if he could hang on to it, it would lead him to another and another.

  Maybe if he found enough crumbs, he could put his Humpty Dumpty memory back together again.

  He started on the second row of bricks. His eyes studied the mortar as his hands tested each block.

  The scraping noise alerted him just as his fingers felt the movement of the brick. His heart pounded. He pulled. More scraping, then a small shower of ground-up mortar.

  He couldn’t get a good hold. He pulled the screwdriver out of his pocket and inserted it behind the brick, half-afraid he might break the little tool.

  Now he could slip a finger into the opening and grab hold of the brick. He slid it out.

  Back in the recesses of the hole was a key.

  He sighed, aware for the first time that he’d been holding his breath. He grabbed the key with two fingers and pulled it out.

  “Johnny! You found the key! You’re starting to remember.”

  Paige’s voice was shrill with excitement. She squeezed his arm and reached up to kiss his cheek.

  He felt her lips, soft and warm, against his stubble. He hoped to hell he was worthy of her trust. He hoped to hell she was right about him remembering.

  But it had been too long. He’d lived for too long with nothing inside him but fear and loneliness. It was going to take him a while to trust himself, or his fractured memories.

  He couldn’t reassure her. He was afraid to even say the words inside his own mind, for fear the crumbs would scatter and he’d lose what little he had.

  “I didn’t remember the key. There had to be one hidden somewhere.”

  “But you stopped here. You went right to this house, right to that brick.”

  He cut her off with a gesture. “Let me go in. If there’s a guard in there, he’s probably going to be armed. You stay out here.”

  He slipped the gun out of his belt and clicked off the safety before he slid the key into the brass lock. The lock turned smoothly. He gripped the knob and opened the door.

  Something moved in the darkness beyond them.

  Chapter Eight

  Paige cried out, and Jay grabbed her and pushed her aside as something slammed into them. He shielded her with his body. His finger tightened on the trigger of the gun.

  Turning around, he caught a glimpse of orange fur as the creature disappeared into the overgrown bushes close to the house.

  He relaxed, blowing out a breath. “Cat,” he said. He looked down at his whitened knuckles gripping the gun. He was getting altogether too proficient with it. Another hairsbreadth of pressure and he’d have pulled the trigger.

  Behind him, he felt Paige relax. He moved away from her.

  “It probably got in through a broken window,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  He turned back to the door, slipping the key into his pocket. He stepped across the threshold into the house and eased the door closed behind them, turning the dead bolt.

  “Do you think there are any other animals in here?” Paige asked, eyeing the locked door.

  “I’m sure we’ll find out,” he muttered. He struggled to stay focused, to stay aware of everything around them. His brain was threatening to betray him.

  The house was cloaked in darkness because of the boarded-up windows, but even though he couldn’t see a thing, Jay still had an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. He knew he’d been here before. There was an odor about the place. A musty smell, certainly, from being closed up, but something else too. A mixture of the ocean, pipe tobacco and some kind of cloying perfume.

  The combined odors made his headache worse and sent strange, conflicting emotions churning through him.

  He felt nauseated and dizzy.

  He tried to breathe, but the old suffocating panic was on him and he couldn’t stand the dark stifling place a minute longer.

  He sucked in a breath past the tightness in his chest and turned back toward the door, thinking of nothing but escaping the blackness.

  Paige’s fingers closed around his wrist. Her touch felt cool and calming. Thank God she was here to keep saving him from the hell of his nightmares.

  “Johnny, what’s the matter?”

  He shook his head, forcing his chest to expand, forcing his spasming lungs to take in air. Wiping sweat off his face with his jacket sleeve, he looked at her sheepishly.

  “I don’t do well in the dark,” he said hoarsely.

  Her face was a pale oval in the darkness. “Because you were kidnapped.” She slid her fingers down his wrist and clasped his hand in hers, squeezing.

  “Do you want to go outside?”

  He shook his head, ashamed of his cowardice. “I’m okay,” he choked out. He took a breath. “Pull the curtains, and stay behind them.”

  She stepped over to the windows and pulled back the heavy curtains.

  He held the gun ready, balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to react instantly.

  His pounding heart thudded faster as hazy light streamed in the windows. The odors combined with what he could now see stirred a storm in his brain. His head throbbed in rhythm with his heart.

  He clamped his jaw, determined to keep the punishing visions at bay as he searched all corners of the big front room.

  Looking at his face, Paige saw his desperate struggle. She wanted to take him back into her arms, but she knew he wouldn’t let her. He was expending all his energy to stay focused.

  “Okay,” she said, as calmly as she could. “Let’s look around.”

  He shook his head. “You should go out and wait in the car until I’m sure the house is…”

  Paige lifted her chin and crossed her arms. She heard his unspoken word. Empty. But she wasn’t ready to face that yet.

  “My child may be in here,” she retorted. “I am not leaving.”

  Johnny started to speak, then clamped his jaw and shrugged. “Let’s go then.”

  They walked quickly and carefully through the downstairs rooms. The kitchen was spotless, a few spider webs and some dust the only indication that it had been abandoned.

  He opened and closed a few drawers.

  “Johnny, the electricity isn’t on, but there’s running water. Do you think someone’s staying here?” Paige asked hopefully.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Paige. More likely no one ever had the city turn it off.” He peered into a cabinet.

  “What are you looking for?” Paige asked.

  “A flashlight, matches, something to help us
see.”

  Paige looked around, then went to the drawer she figured was probably the junk drawer. Sure enough there was a large flashlight and several packets of matches.

  “Here.”

  Johnny turned. “How did you find those?”

  “It’s a kitchen. I’m a woman.” She smiled.

  He gave her a brief, dazzling grin that twisted her heart. When he did that, he looked so much like the boy she’d fallen in love with.

  They moved through the kitchen into the formal dining room, then on into the living room and the den. All the rooms were completely and lavishly furnished. Even televisions and books were still in place.

  “This is so eerie. It’s like they just walked out,” Paige whispered, touching a dusty TV remote control that still sat on a side table near a comfortable chair. “I can’t believe it hasn’t been burglarized.”

  Johnny frowned. “It may be protected by a security service, although I haven’t seen any alarms on the doors or windows. Have you?”

  “No. Do you think we tripped a silent alarm?”

  “I think we’ll know soon.”

  She felt panic rising inside her. “But if there’s an alarm, that means Katie’s not here.”

  “We knew it was a long shot,” he reminded her softly. “But in case there is an alarm, we need to hurry. Let’s look upstairs.”

  She nodded.

  Jay stood at the bottom of the dark, polished staircase with his hand on the newel post. He felt an extreme reluctance to climb the stairs. He couldn’t explain why.

  The feeling inside him was a mixture of dread and anticipation. What waited for him at the top of the endless-looking stretch of stairs?

  He knew their daughter might be up there, and that all three of them could be in grave danger at this moment. But still he couldn’t stop the feeling that churned within him. He didn’t want to walk up those stairs. Something dreadful waited for him up there, and he was deathly afraid it was his past.

  Paige slipped her hand into his. “Ready?” she asked softly.

  Grimly, he nodded.

  They climbed the stairs together, Jay taking strength from the woman beside him, the woman who had put her trust in him, even when she’d discovered he had nothing to give her in return.

  He swallowed nervously as they reached the landing.

  Paige stood motionless beside him, but he could feel her expectancy, her pitiful hope.

  She looked at him pleadingly. “Johnny, hurry.”

  He nodded. He felt the same sense of urgency. Was their daughter behind one of the five closed doors along the upstairs landing? Four were lined up in a row across from the railing, and one was at the far end of the hall. Between the doors were barrister bookcases, their polish dulled by layers of dust. Jay’s eyes went directly to the door right in front of them.

  He was having trouble breathing. He squeezed Paige’s hand more tightly.

  “Okay,” he said in a rasping whisper. “You wait here. I’m going to check out the rooms.”

  She didn’t say anything, so he stepped up to the door and turned the knob, then pushed it open, holding his gun up, ready to shoot.

  The room was dark, but the odor that hit his nostrils was unmistakable. This was a sickroom. The sharp smell of disinfectant couldn’t mask the odor of death.

  This time it wasn’t just the darkness that kept him from wanting to go in. His head swam with strange, hazy visions that wouldn’t coalesce into anything he could identify. He leaned back against the door, forcing himself to focus.

  A hollow sadness took hold of him, hurting his chest and stinging his eyes. Behind him, Paige turned on the flashlight and shone it around the room, sending reflections and oddly shaped shadows skittering around. He scanned the darkness. The room was empty.

  “Stay here,” he whispered to Paige. Cautiously he entered the room and slid open the heavy drapes, suppressing a cough as dust rose from the dark material.

  In the light from the windows, he stared at the sight before him. It was a little boy’s room, with a dinosaur bedspread and curtains, and a few stuffed animals scattered around. It had been cleaned out though. There were no clothes, and empty spots indicated where furniture or toys had been removed.

  Jay went back to the door, still overwhelmed by the smell, still haunted by the feeling of loss. “How could a child stand this room?” he said.

  Paige looked at him in surprise. “It’s a cute room. What do you mean?”

  “The smell. It smells like a sickroom.”

  Paige peered at him. “No, it doesn’t. All I smell is dust.”

  Johnny shook his head and backed away from the door. “I’ll check out the other rooms.”

  The next room was also empty. It must have been a guest room. There was no furniture, but the colors seemed impersonal, and there was nothing at all in the dressing room or bathroom.

  The third room was obviously the master suite. Larger than the others, it had a sitting area and a huge dressing room and Jacuzzi bath. It too was unfurnished, but the plush carpet was littered with small things like bobby pins, makeup brushes, tissues, a man’s tie. The type of things that get left behind when people move.

  This must have been the room his father shared with his stepmother. Jay felt nothing. Not even a sense of grief for his father’s death. Judging by what was taken and what was left behind, his stepmother had not bothered to take any of her dead husband’s belongings with her.

  He stood still, listening to the hollow creaking of the house. He had pinned so many hopes on finding his family’s home. Not only for himself, but for Paige. Now his hopes were dashed.

  He’d been right, even if Paige hadn’t accepted it yet. The house was empty. Katie wasn’t here.

  Jay’s only chance to save Katie was to break down the barrier in his brain. If he could remember his past, could remember something about his own kidnapping, then maybe he could discover a clue that would lead them to their daughter.

  “Johnny?”

  Paige’s voice, coming from the other side of the house alarmed him. When had she left his side? He hurried down the hall to the last room.

  She stood in the doorway.

  “Paige? What is it?”

  “She’s not here, is she?” Her voice was small and sad, her eyes wide and haunted.

  He shook his head, dropping his gaze.

  She swayed, hugging herself, her face going pale. “Why not?” she muttered. “Why isn’t she here? What have they done with my baby?”

  Her voice was becoming shrill and hysterical.

  Jay tucked his gun away and moved toward her, wrapping his arms around her. She didn’t relax at all. She stayed knotted up, hugging herself, her small body as taut as a bowstring.

  “We’re going to find her, Paige. We are. But you’ve got to help me. You’ve got to stay strong, for Katie. We’re closer than we’ve ever been.” He held her, comforting her like she had comforted him.

  He wrapped his hand around her nape, and pressed kisses against her hair and ear and neck, murmuring reassuring words. She stayed stiff, and he just held on to her. Holding her helped him too.

  Paige couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t let go of herself. She was afraid if she did, she’d fly apart. Slowly she began to relax as Johnny whispered to her. Maybe she’d be okay as long as he was there to hold her together.

  His lips moving against her ear made her shiver, and the bowed tautness of her muscles and tendons began to relax. She finally had the courage to let go of herself and slide her arms around his waist.

  “We’ll find her, won’t we?” she whispered, burrowing her nose into his chest and hugging him tightly. “Please, tell me we’ll find her.”

  He pressed a kiss against her cheek. “We’ll find her.”

  She sighed and pushed away from the seductive comfort of his arms. Katie was depending on them, and they had no time for self-indulgence, even if having Johnny hold her made her feel strong enough to face any challenge.

  “
You need to see this,” she said, wiping her face. “It’s your old room.”

  Johnny’s hands caressed her arms as she slid out of his embrace. At her words, he shot her a wary glance.

  “My room?”

  She covered his hand with hers. “Come on. Maybe seeing it will bring back more memories.”

  As Jay stepped through the door, he was blindsided by an onslaught of confusing visions and emotions.

  The room was furnished in dark wood, the colors were muted, brown and tan and rust. Sketches and drawings lined the walls, stuck up with thumbtacks.

  Fighting a dizzying nausea, Jay walked up to the wall and touched one of the drawings. It was a picture of a thin woman reclining, her hand reaching out of the picture. The picture was signed with three letters and the Y-shaped anchor.

  “Mother,” he whispered, his head throbbing with pain, his lips feeling strange as they formed the unfamiliar word.

  There were other drawings that disturbed him too. Several landscapes with moss-covered cypress trees and an old wooden building with a pier. Johnny stared at the building, his heart beating wildly in his chest, the hated claustrophobia building inside him. Confused about his reaction, he wiped his face and looked away.

  He scanned the other pictures, observing the signatures. The oldest ones were childish, and had the name Johnny printed on the bottom in neat square letters.

  He traced his finger over each letter.

  Johnny. He mouthed the name Paige had called him from the beginning. Did he know that name?

  It was a good name. John. A solid, dependable name. But was it his name?

  He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and slumped over, resting his elbows on his knees. A harsh sound escaped from his lips.

  Minutes passed, and still he didn’t move. Finally Paige stepped backward and began easing the door shut.

  “Wait,” he muttered, his voice muted. He pushed his fingers through his hair and wiped his face.

  When he looked at Paige, she saw the grim determination of the man she had come to know in the past three days. He frowned, then straightened and stood.