What She Forgot Read online

  “Andrea?”

  Andrea blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Madison blotted her lips with her napkin. “Where do you go when you drift off like that?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You do that a lot,” Madison said. “Become completely still and silent. You’re remembering something, aren’t you?”

  “Sometimes,” Andrea admitted. “But most of the time it’s nothing that makes much sense. Just then, I was remembering something from my childhood. I think I was sent to live with my aunt when I was quite young. She never married. In fact, I think she hated men, and I don’t think she had much use for children, either. She was quite happy living alone, and I guess I spoiled her tranquillity.”

  “That’s quite a burden to place on a child’s shoulders, feeling responsible for someone else’s unhappiness. How long did you live with her?”

  Andrea closed her eyes. “I don’t know. A long time, I think. I remember being lonely. We didn’t have much company. My aunt didn’t like to socialize, and I wasn’t allowed to have friends over after school.” That same feeling of loneliness came over Andrea now. A terrible sense of isolation. She’d been different from the other kids at school, afraid to get close to anyone, afraid they might find out why she was so different.

  “Where are you from, Andrea?”

  “Here. I was born in Houston.”

  “Is that where your aunt lives?”

  “No, she lived up north somewhere.” Where it was always cold, always winter.

  “You said ‘lived.’ Is she dead?”

  That snapped Andrea out of the dreamlike state that had overcome her. She shook her head. “I don’t know. That’s all I remember.”

  “Well, that’s quite a lot actually.” Madison smiled at her across the table. “This is a good sign, Andrea. I don’t think it will be long now before everything comes back to you.”

  Andrea glanced down at the ring on her finger. Sunlight danced on the diamonds. Memories whispered through her mind, and the morning suddenly turned ominous.

  Madison said, “There is one thing we should talk about. When you do get your memory back, you should be prepared.”

  “For what?”

  Madison paused, her dark eyes pensive. “Amnesia is a tricky thing. There’s still a lot we don’t understand about it, but in cases like yours, where there’s no apparent physical reason for the memory loss, it seems to be the mind’s way of coping with something extraordinarily traumatic.” She paused again. “When this event occurred—whatever triggered your memory loss—you weren’t able to deal with the shock and so your mind blocked it out, in order to protect you. In your case, this mechanism was fairly extreme because you blocked out everything, not just the actual event.”

  “What does that say about me?” Andrea asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Does that mean I’m…crazy?”

  “Of course not. It means you may be a little more adept at self-preservation than the rest of us, that’s all. Your mind wasn’t taking any chances. It wiped out everything, letting only tiny pieces filter back in until you’re ready to cope. It actually makes a lot of sense, when you think about it.”

  Andrea glanced up almost fearfully. “What kind of trauma would cause such a complete block?”

  “I don’t know, but because of the extent of your amnesia, it almost certainly had to be something extremely stressful. That’s what I mean by being prepared. When your memory does return, you’ll still have to deal with whatever it was that happened to you.”

  “But what if I can’t deal with it?” Andrea asked. What if she’d done something so terrible, so horrible that her mind would never be able to accept the reality? What then? The dark room?

  “You’re a very strong and determined woman, Andrea, and your instinct for survival is obviously quite strong. I think when the time comes, you’ll be able to accept what happened, work through it and go on from there. I have complete faith in you.” Madison smiled brightly and laid her napkin aside. “There. Having said all that, I’m going to turn off the psychobabble, as Troy so charmingly refers to my profession, so that we can concentrate on something a little more pleasant. What are your plans for the day?”

  It was Sunday, but that meant little to Andrea. She had no memory, which meant she had no past and no future. What kind of plans could she have?

  “Because if you don’t have any,” Madison was saying, “I’d like you to come to dinner at my parents’ house. It’s a Stoner family tradition, you see, and none of us—not even my brother Ray, the brooding loner of the family, would dare not show up without one whale of a good excuse. And according to my mother, short of being in a body cast, there are no good excuses.”

  Andrea was on the verge of asking her whether or not Troy would be there. But Madison had said everyone was expected, so obviously that included him. Andrea knew what she should do. She should make up some excuse—surely amnesia ranked right up there with a body cast, didn’t it?—and stay home where she would be safe from her emotions.

  But Madison was right. The memories were coming back, almost too fast, and Andrea didn’t want to be alone with them. She didn’t want to have to think about what might have happened, prepare herself for what she might have done.

  Besides, she’d been alone so much. All of her life, it seemed. To be asked to Sunday dinner with a family that intrigued her as much as the Stoners was an invitation that was almost irresistible.

  If Troy was there, she would avoid him.

  If her heart started to pound when she saw him, she would ignore it.

  If her stomach knotted when he talked to her, she would pretend calmness.

  After all, she’d gotten quite good at pretending, hadn’t she?

  * * *

  TROY WAS SITTING in the den, talking to his brother Mitch, when Andrea walked in with Madison. Andrea’s silvery gold hair was pulled back and fastened in a loose braid down her back, and she wore a yellow sundress that made her look as cool and tempting as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. The dress bared her shoulders with straps that crisscrossed in the back, and several of the buttons in front had been left undone, so that a tantalizing portion of tanned leg was left exposed.

  Beside him, Mitch had been in the process of lifting a beer to his mouth, but the bottle froze in midair. Earl, who had been talking quietly with Ray, let his sentence trail off into dead silence. And Ray, who never showed emotion of any kind, turned his head, and one dark brow lifted slightly when he saw Andrea. Their reactions were registered by Troy only because when he’d first seen Andrea, his heart rate had accelerated so alarmingly, his pulse had jumped so erratically that he’d glanced around at his family to make sure no one had noticed.

  He needn’t have worried. Every pair of male eyes in the room had vectored in on Andrea and remained there. Even his old man couldn’t take his eyes off her, and Troy frowned, experiencing a proprietary emotion that was surely unwarranted.

  Everyone stood as Madison made the introductions, and Troy glanced around again, wondering this time what Andrea thought of his family—Mitch in shorts and boat shoes without socks, Ray in faded jeans and a T-shirt, Earl in starched khakis and a long-sleeved plaid shirt and Troy himself in pleated trousers and a white collarless shirt. Their attire was as diverse as their personalities, but they all had their profession in common. Troy couldn’t help thinking that a family of cops had to be a little intimidating to someone like Andrea.

  But she didn’t look intimidated at all. She looked completely at ease and in control of the situation as she said hello to everyone and stepped forward to shake their hands. Troy thought that both Ray and Mitch held on to Andrea’s hand a little longer than was necessary. He moved forward, claiming the spot beside her.

  “Sergeant Stoner,” she said, an intriguing little glint in her blue eyes. “Nice to see you again.”

  “It’s ‘Troy.’ I’m off duty today. We all are.” She didn’t
offer her hand to him, Troy noticed, and he couldn’t help feeling a little slighted. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today,” he said, low enough so that he hoped his father and brothers couldn’t overhear, though he knew Earl was straining to.

  She trained those blue eyes on him. “Madison invited me. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Why should I mind?” No red-blooded male in his right mind would have an objection to her presence, especially considering the way she looked in that yellow dress, and Troy was no exception. Like his father and brothers, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He vaguely recalled having seen Madison wear that dress before, but it sure as hell hadn’t had the same impact.

  As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Madison swept forward and grabbed Andrea’s hand. “Come on. I want you to meet my mother.”

  After the two of them had disappeared into the kitchen, the men all took their seats again. Earl settled back into his recliner, and Mitch turned on the TV. Ray walked over, and the two of them sat on the couch, watching a basketball game. It was an NBA play-off game, and normally Troy would have been just as engrossed, but today basketball was the furthest thing from his mind.

  He wandered around the den for a moment, glancing out the window, thumbing through a magazine, then as he walked by Earl’s recliner, his father waylaid him.

  “That girl with Madison. She’s a knockout.”

  Troy grinned. “I noticed you noticing.”

  “Man’d have to be dead not to.” Earl took a long swig of his beer. “I know all about her amnesia. And about the blood on her clothes.”

  Troy figured his old man probably knew a hell of a lot more than that. Even in his retirement, Earl was still better informed than any of his sons. After forty years on the force, he had eyes and ears everywhere.

  “All right,” Troy said in weary resignation. “What do you want to know, Dad?”

  Earl stared him right in the eyes. “You behavin’ yourself with her?”

  Troy couldn’t have been more shocked. The question took him completely by surprise, and for a moment, he had no answer. Then he said, “I’m trying to find out who she is, where she’s from and where her family is. That’s all.”

  Earl nodded, but there was a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. “Just thought I’d ask.” He didn’t mention the Cassandra Markham case, but Troy knew that’s what his father was thinking about. “Why don’t you go on out to the kitchen and see if you can give your mother a hand?”

  Troy was glad to escape. He met Madison in the kitchen doorway, and he snatched a chip from the bowl she was carrying out to the den. His mother was at the sink, rinsing vegetables. He walked over and kissed her cheek. “Need some help?”

  “Everything’s under control, but thanks, anyway. Just stand here and visit with me, okay?”

  “That’s easy enough.” Troy leaned against the counter, watching his mother work. She was a tall woman and still almost as slender as her daughter, with the same short cap of glossy black hair—hers now sprinkled with gray—and the same dark brown eyes. “Where’s Andrea?” he asked casually.

  “I sent her out to the back porch for some ripe tomatoes.” His mother glanced up. “She’s such a beautiful young woman, but then, I’m guessing you already noticed that.”

  “Couldn’t help but,” he agreed.

  “And ‘Andrea’ is such a lovely name. She told me it was her grandmother’s name.”

  Troy stared at his mother. “She told you that?”

  His mother looked up at his tone. “She said she was named after her grandmother. Nothing unusual about that, is there?”

  Troy shrugged. “No, I guess not.” He paused, then said, “How much has Madison told you about her?”

  “Nothing really, except that she has amnesia. Is there something else we need to know?” His mother’s dark gaze eyed him curiously.

  “I’m just wondering what else she may have remembered that she didn’t tell me. I think I need to have a talk with her.”

  “Troy.” His mother turned to him, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Can’t you stop being a cop for one day? She’s our guest. Now’s not the proper time to interrogate her.”

  “I wasn’t going to do that,” Troy said. “I’d just like to ask her a few questions.”

  “About what?” Andrea was standing in the back door, her arms laden with tomatoes. The red stood out starkly against her pale yellow dress, and Troy was immediately reminded of another dress, covered with blood.

  For a split second, their eyes met and no one said anything. Then the kitchen door swung open, and Mitch walked through with Tim Seavers. “Look who the cat dragged in,” Mitch said.

  Beverly Stoner exclaimed in delight, “Tim! Where in the world have you been keeping yourself!”

  In all the confusion, Troy managed to relieve Andrea of the tomatoes, then took her arm and steered her out the back door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You haven’t seen Mom’s garden yet, have you?”

  “No. Just from the porch.”

  They walked down the steps, into the dappled sunlight of the backyard. The air was filled with the scent of roses and the drone of bees. A breeze drifted through the oak trees, stirring the morning glory vines that clung to the trellised sides of his mother’s gazebo. The tree house he and his brothers had built a lifetime ago perched precariously on the wide, lower branches on the oak tree.

  Andrea laughed delightedly when she saw it, and the sound charmed Troy. Sunlight glistened like gold in her hair, and a tiny yellow butterfly circled her head, as if weaving an invisible halo.

  “It must have been wonderful, growing up in a home like this,” she said softly. “Having a mother and father like yours, lots of brothers and sisters to play with. You’re very lucky.”

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” It wasn’t something Troy thought about much. He’d grown up in this house, surrounded by family, not just brothers and sisters, but aunts and uncles, dozens of cousins. He’d never considered his family anything out of the ordinary, just people sharing a common bond who cared about each other, who watched out for one another. They were like any other family and only extraordinary to someone who’d never had one.

  He wondered if Andrea had been an only child, if she’d been lonely growing up. He wondered what her family was like, if she’d ever had anyone to take care of her.

  Maybe she didn’t need anyone, he thought, but at that moment, he wanted to believe she did. His gaze met hers, and something stirred inside him. Before he could stop himself, Troy reached out to tuck an errant strand of gold behind one delicate ear, and her hand lifted to settle over his. They stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, her hand capturing his, their eyes meeting and Troy’s heart pounding inside him.

  What had she done to him? What kind of spell had she cast to enthrall him so completely, to make him forget the hard lessons he’d learned in this life?

  What would it take to release him from her spell? A kiss?

  Worth a try, he decided, and lowered his lips to hers.

  She backed away, dropping her hand from his, and turning to comment on the roses as if nothing had passed between them. As if that brief moment of magic had been conjured by his imagination.

  And maybe it had been.

  But he had to know. He had to be sure. “Andrea—”

  She still wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t.” Not a command but an entreaty, as if she had no strength left to fight him.

  He found hope where there should have been none. His heart quickened. “I have to know, Andrea.”

  “Oh, God.” She put her hands to her face. “I’ve made such a mess of everything, haven’t I?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head. “It’s all so hopeless.”

  “What is?” He reached for her arm, but she moved away from him again, at last turning to face him.

  Her eyes looked bleak, haunted. She held out her hand, and at first he thought she
wanted him to take it, but then he saw the flash of diamonds on her finger. “This is my wedding ring,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “I have a husband.”

  “Probably.”

  “I can’t do this, Troy.”

  “We haven’t done anything.”

  “But I want to,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “Just now, I wanted you to kiss me.” It was all Troy could do not to take her in his arms, hold her so tightly she could never get away from him. Never escape him. He wanted to enthrall her, mesmerize her, so that she fell under the same spell she had cast over him.

  “Andrea—”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. A calmness came over her features, almost as if a curtain had dropped over her emotions. “Let’s not speak of this again,” she said. “Let’s pretend I never said that.”

  “You’re not asking much, are you?” he said bitterly.

  “It’s the only way,” she said, slipping even farther away. She turned and gazed up at the tree house. “Show me your tree house, Troy,” she said a little desperately. “Tell me what it was like to grow up here. Tell me all about your family, everything. I want to hear it all.”

  The words gushed from her, as if they could somehow erect a safe wall between them. Troy didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to feel. He knew she was right. There couldn’t be anything between them.

  But to know that she felt the same way he did, to realize that she wanted him as much as he wanted her…

  It was as if a fist had taken hold of his heart. To have her so close…and not be able to touch her, kiss her, whisper to her all the things he wanted to say to her.

  To have found her too late. To know that she could never be his. To realize that when she got her memory back, she would be lost to him forever…

  She was already at the bottom of the steps that led up to the tree house, reading a faded sign that had been hammered to the railing years ago: No Girls Allowed (That Means You Madison).

  “No girls allowed. What kind of chauvinistic attitude is that?” she challenged.

  “A stupid one,” Troy said, coming up behind her.