by Lori Wilde
“Chill, Zack. What’s the worst that could happen? The swindlers skip town and get away scot-free.”
“I’m not so sure of that, Tess. Things could turn ugly. We’re talking about a lot of money here. Rather than give it up, they might do away with us.”
“You mean violence?” Her eyes widened.
He nodded.
“Goody.”
“What?”
“Danger is thrilling.” She crinkled her nose. “Makes you glad to be alive.”
Holy Toledo, he’d created a monster. Exasperated, Truman ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think you truly appreciate the repercussions here. I can’t take a chance they aren’t onto us. I don’t want to risk it. Not with your life.”
Her chin came up defiantly; her eyes glistened with a steely light. “It should be my choice.”
“Tess”—his voice choked—”I care about you too much to let you do this.” Truman felt the investigation slipping away from them, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was Katie’s safety.
“You care about me?” Her hand trembled.
“You don’t get it. I called my chief, and he ran a rap sheet on our three suspects. Now we know for sure who they are, and he found many aliases. They’re an unsavory lot. They gave Furlow a dishonorable discharge from the Air Force for illegally commandeering a helicopter. Smith is a small-time loser. He’s been in and out of various prisons for most of his fife. His father was a grifter and taught him the business. Tandy used to be a respected fashion photographer until alcoholism got the best of him, and he hit the skids.”
“All the more reason to get them into custody. I finish what I start. Now please, get dressed. The banquet starts in less than an hour, and I’ve still got to blow-dry my hair before I can give you the bathroom.”
Truman stepped across the room with purposeful strides and caught Katie in his arms. He cupped her face in his hands. “Perhaps I’m not making myself clear, Tess.”
He hadn’t meant to tell her he loved her. Not now. Not yet. Not until he’d had time to make sense of his feelings. But the words perched on the tip of his tongue. He had to let her know how important she was to him.
Katie leaned back in his embrace and stared up at him. “What?” she whispered.
“I care about you. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”
She blinked, and tears misted her eyes. “Are you speaking as my husband, Zack, or as that other man?”
“Katie.” His voice cracked. He shouldn’t be unburdening himself this way when she didn’t even know who she was. She needed time. “My name’s Truman West, and I’m not your husband.”
“And I’m not Katie.”
“Yes, you are.”
“But I don’t remember her,” Katie cried. “I don’t know what she was like.”
“She’s like you, only with a sweeter, more innocent side to her.”
“She’s the one you care about, Truman, not me.” Katie dropped her gaze and hung her head. Her breath quickened, and he felt her chest rise and fall against his.
“Dammit, Tess, you and Katie are the same person!”
“What happens if I never remember?” she asked, trembling in his arms. “I’ve tried not to think about it because we’re on a case. I keep pushing it to the back of my mind, but it’s always nagging at me. What happens when I go back to her life, her family, her house, and I can’t remember any of it?”
“I’ll be there, sweetheart, right beside you.” Truman’s heart was breaking into pieces at the agony on her face. He wished he could wave a magic wand and make it all better.
Katie pulled away from him. “This isn’t the time or the place.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. We’ve got a case to solve. We better get ready. It’s getting late.”
“I don’t want to go.”
She shook her head. “I can’t let you jeopardize your job. I know how much it means to you. We’ll work this other matter out later.”
“Katie, I—”
“Please,” she said, placing her palms over her ears. “I simply can’t deal with this right now.”
“All right.” Truman turned and went into the bedroom, feeling worried and more confused than he’d ever felt in his life. She had brought up a good point. Who did he love? Katie Prentiss or Tess Dupree?
Tess, I care about you.
Normally, hearing Zack say those words cheered her. Tonight, it struck a sad chord deep inside her, and she didn’t know why. Although Tess figured it had something to do with the amnesia, it hurt to question every memory as real or imagined. Had he ever said those words to her before this weekend, or had she simply concocted it all?
Tess bit back a whimper.
Forget it for now. Think about the case. She held her head high and walked beside Zack as they entered the ballroom. She was proud to be on the arm of such a handsome man.
Heads turned as they strolled by. Lots of heads.
Zack wore a tuxedo he’d rented for the occasion and black patent leather shoes. Tess wore a green strapless dress with a sequined bodice and a full satin skirt.
He escorted her on his arm like Prince Charming showing off Cinderella. He’d slicked his tawny hair back off his forehead, and he had a red carnation stuck in his buttonhole.
He’s my husband, she thought, then immediately quashed that notion. No, he’s not. You’re not Tess, and he’s not Zack, and you aren’t husband and wife.
But he didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt as familiar as an old bathrobe and twice as comfortable.
He led her right over to a large table near the stage where Nancy Furlow, Paul Smith, and Karl Tandy sat. They looked none too pleased to see Tess and Zack.
“Mind if we sit down?” Zack asked, pulling out a chair for Tess.
“Actually,” Nancy Furlow said coolly, “we reserve those seats.”
“Yes,” Zack said, “for us. We deserve some compensation for being cheated out of our photo session this morning.” He sat down and returned Furlow’s hard stare. Tess thrilled at Zack’s audacity.
“You already got fifty dollars off,” Paul Smith said. “Scram.”
Furlow pursed her lips but said nothing. She shot Smith a glance. He shrugged.
“May we sit here, too?” an elderly lady and her younger, not-too-attractive companion asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Zack said, waving a hand at the table. “Please, have a seat.”
Furlow squirmed in her chair. “They reserved this table for the conference speakers.”
“I’m sure they won’t mind if a few of Spectacular Dolls’ newest clients sit here instead.” Zack winked.
“If it’s a problem...” the elderly lady began.
“No problem at all. We’re happy to have your company,” Zack assured her.
“How did you know I just signed with Spectacular Dolls?” the older lady’s lanky companion asked.
“Why, they’d be stupid not to snatch up a lady as attractive as yourself, isn’t that right, Mr. Smith?” Zack glowered at the man.
“That’s right.” Smith forced a smile and waved a hand at the vacant chairs. “Please, have a seat, ladies.”
“Why thank you kindly, Mr. Smith.” The elderly woman extended her hand to Zack. “I’m Bridgit Dodd, and this is my granddaughter, Enid.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Zack Dupree and my wife, Tess. She’s signing with Spectacular Dolls, too.”
Bridgit giggled, pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose, and squeezed in beside Zack. “Now isn’t this lovely?”
“Tess and Zack Dupree, did you say?” Enid Dodd frowned.
“That’s right.” Tess smiled, but inside she was mad. Angry at Furlow, Smith, and Tandy for taking advantage of such sweet people as Bridgit and her daughter.
“Your names sound so familiar,” Enid mused. “Where have I heard them before?”
“I don’t believe we’ve ever met,” Tess said. Ha! As if she’d rememb
er meeting anyone before she’d gotten whacked on the head.
“I suppose not,” Enid replied, taking the seat next to her mother.
A waiter approached their table and set bowls of salad in front of everyone. Furlow, Smith, and Tandy kept casting nervous looks at each other.
They weren’t the only ones feeling disconcerted. The vague but prevalent unease hanging over her since the whack on her head dogged her. A kernel of fear, one she’d tried all day to deny, suddenly popped and expanded. Dread pressed down on her. She tried to eat her salad, but she had no appetite.
Who was she?
Zack was holding a conversation with Bridgit, but Tess couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying.
Come on, Tess, snap out of it.
But I’m not Tess, a small but firm voice in the back of her head whispered. Tess is brave and strong and confident, but I’m a chicken.
The keynote speaker mounted the stage and walked to the podium. After some opening icebreakers, she talked about the fashion industry. But Tess’s mind was whirling, and she didn’t absorb a word.
She felt that if she closed her eyes and tried really hard, she would remember. Except Tess wasn’t sure she wanted to remember Katie.
Tess bit her bottom lip and sneaked a sidelong glance at Zack. His head turned toward the speaker, but she could tell he was cautiously studying Furlow.
Her pulse quickened. He was so handsome. His profile was like a Greek god’s—straight nose, prominent forehead, strong chin. He was a man any woman would be delighted to call her own.
Concentrate. Think. Who are you?
Tess wet her lips and squeezed her eyes shut. Katie Prentiss. She pictured the name in her mind’s eye and waited for the nudge of recognition.
None came.
Tess Dupree.
That name brought a flood of memories. She recalled every case she and Zack had been on.
Fear spread along her nerve endings. How could she possibly know more about a made-up person than herself? What tricks was her mind playing? Her heart thudded faster. She had to have help. As soon as this case was over, she’d have Zack take her to a doctor.
And discover what? That the man she loved with every breath in her body was not her husband.
Tess clenched her napkin in her fists.
“Honey,” she heard Zack’s worried voice.
Slowly, Tess opened her eyes. Tears blurred his image.
“Are you all right? You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. What else could she say? That she was so terrified of losing him, the thought made her sick to her stomach.
“So, Mr. Smith.” Bridgit Dodd smiled brightly. “When can Enid expect her first modeling assignment?”
“Shh, Ms. Dodd.” Paul Smith frowned. “I’d like to hear the speaker if you don’t mind.”
Bridgit’s face flushed, and she fluttered her hands about her head. “Oh, silly me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I did just pay you people twelve thousand dollars, and I’d like to know when to expect results. Maybe you have the answer, Ms. Furlow?”
Nancy Furlow swung her cold stare at Bridgit Dodd. “Three weeks tops.”
“You’ll call us from New York?”
“Yes, yes,” the red-haired woman said impatiently.
Tess felt sorry for poor Ms. Dodd and her not-so-pretty daughter, Enid.
“Will the assignment be in New York City or somewhere else?”
“I don’t know, Ms. Dodd. Now will you let us listen to the speaker?”
“Well.” Bridgit Dodd’s eyes watered. “I didn’t mean to ruin anyone’s evening.”
“Actually, Mrs. Dodd,” Zack broke in, his voice loud and commanding. “I think you’ve raised some superb questions. Questions I’m sure many of those who signed with Spectacular Dolls are asking themselves.”
Several people at surrounding tables craned their necks to see what the commotion was about.
“Mr. Dupree, this is neither the time nor the place to bring up this issue,” Nancy Furlow said.
Zack got to his feet and raised his hand. The speaker at the podium stopped talking in mid-sentence. Tess didn’t blame her. Zack was an authoritative presence.
“Pardon the interruption, but how many people here have signed with Spectacular Dolls?” he asked the crowd.
What’s Zack up to?
Almost every hand in the room went up.
“So much for the exclusive nature of Spectacular Dolls’ models,” Zack said. “You promised modeling jobs to hundreds of women. How is that workable?”
Nancy Furlow squirmed like a worm on a fishhook. Paul Smith looked panic-stricken. Karl Tandy was already on his feet and edging for the door.
“Anybody have questions they’d like to ask Ms. Furlow and Mr. Smith?” Zack asked.
Dozens of people talked at once.
“Hey,” someone shouted. “I want my money back.”
“Me, too!”
“Tell us more about Spectacular Dolls!”
“What are you guys, a bunch of crooks?”
Nancy Furlow shot Zack a look that could kill, then rose to her feet to address the crowd.
“Wait just a minute!” Enid Dodd suddenly shouted. She was on her feet as well, her eyes glowing as she pointed excitedly at Tess and Zack. “I know where I heard your names before. You two are those detectives from the Tess and Zack Dupree Mystery Series!”
“Mystery series?” Zack’s mouth dropped open as he stared at Tess. “You named us after fictional detectives?”
The blood drained from Tess’s face as Zack’s words slapped her. She was a character from a mystery novel?
Impossible.
But something niggled at her. Could it be true? Were all the memories she’d had since the whack on the head nothing more than adventures from a book? Zack wasn’t her husband. She wasn’t an intrepid detective, after all?
Her chest hurt. No. Please no.
“You were right all along,” Smith shouted to Furlow. “They are cops. Make a run for it, Nancy.”
Furlow darted for the door, but the mob surged after her.
Zack lunged for Furlow.
Smith charged after Zack.
Enid Dodd asked for Tess’s autograph.
Tess tried to get up and into the fray, but the heel of her shoe caught on the rung of her chair and she fell backward, striking her head on the floor. She saw bright lights, vivid white stars, and lots of running feet. In a flash, her memory came flooding back.
Then all hell broke loose.
14
“Get up,” Paul Smith growled, pressing something hard and cold into Katie’s ribs. “You’re coming with me.”
A gun.
“No.” Katie resisted, pulling against him.
Smith snatched her by the hair and yanked hard. “Get up.”
Katie stumbled to her feet, the crowd pressing in around her. She frantically searched for Truman but didn’t see him.
But she remembered him. He was the man of her childhood fantasies, the handsome boy next door, the cowboy cop to her rescue. Except he wasn’t her husband. No matter how desperately she might wish it. And she wasn’t tough-as-nails detective Tess Dupree. She was timid librarian Katie Prentiss who’d made an enormous mistake.
“This way,” Smith snarled, dragging her toward a side door marked Exit. “Move it.”
She obeyed. What choice did she have? The man was shoving a gun in her side.
What would Tess do?
Why on earth was she continuing to emulate a character in a book? The woman had gotten her into so much trouble! If it wasn’t for her suggesting they use the names Tess and Zack Dupree… It was such a stupid thing to do. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She’d cost Truman his investigation, and she’d gotten herself into a tricky fix.
Paul Smith shoved her through the door. A flight of stairs waited on the other side. “Climb.”
“Where are we going?” Katie asked.
“Shut
up and do as I say.”
Katie started up the steps, Smith at her heels. Her inclination was to cower. Instead, she held her head high and marched. She would not pretend to be Tess Dupree any longer. She didn’t need that crutch.
“You will not get away with this,” she challenged Smith, pleased with her bravery. “The authorities know all about you and this modeling agency scam. This is your swan song, buddy.”
“Who’s got the gun, Miss Smart Mouth? Me or you?” Smith had a point, but Katie’s money was on Truman. He would come for her.
“What are you planning on doing with me?” she asked, putting her hand on the railing and climbing higher.
“Use you as a bargaining chip.”
“Truman will never negotiate.”
“Who’s Truman?”
“My partner.”
“Sure, he will,” Smith said. “We only want to get away with the money. Your life for the cash. He won’t hesitate to swap.”
“Shows what you know!” Katie crowed. “He’ll pin you in a corner and force you to the ground like the dirty rats you are.”
“I don’t think so.” She could hear Smith huffing behind her as they reached the fifth-floor landing. “I know we’ll get away.”
“What makes you so sure of yourself?” She looked over her shoulder.
He waved the gun at her, and she kept walking. “Because he loves you.”
“How do you know?”
“Are you blind, woman? It’s written all over the man’s face every time he looks at you. Why on earth do you think I’m taking you as an insurance policy?”
Tess, I care about you.
The words Truman had spoken to her earlier that night rang in Katie’s ears. What had he meant? That he loved her?
Hope buoyed Katie’s heart, but then just as quickly, it sank with despair. Was Smith correct? Did Truman really love her? He’d said, “I care about you, Tess,” not “I love you, Katie.”
Truman hadn’t loved Katie Prentiss when he’d known her. He had told her as much when they were in high school. He liked her. He thought she was nice. He wanted to be friends. But he’d loved Rhonda McKnight.
