August Unknown (19 page)

“I haven’t thanked you yet for bringing me here.” She reached
out and took his hand.

“Yes you have. But you’re welcome again.” He gave her fingers
a squeeze. “Nothing came to you at all?”

“Nothing that I didn’t force myself to see.” She rose and
walked around the bed to the mirror. She tried to imagine herself with other
people, but nothing would come. “It’s been two weeks. I’m beginning to think my
memory will never come back.”

He stood beside her and looped one arm around her shoulders.
August leaned against him and let him wrap her in his warm strength.

“It will. Don’t worry. But until it does, let’s stop talking
about that woman’s shelter.”

She met his eyes in the mirror. If something happened to any
one of them because of her...A smattering of chills rolled over her arms.

“I think it may be the best solution.”

“Listen.” He turned her to face him. “Stop worrying so much.
We’re a resilient bunch, us Barthlows.”

She smiled, but it was strained. She would never be able to
make him understand how she felt.

“Besides, I have a much better idea, and I think you’re just
spunky enough to make it work.”

“Me? Spunky? You must know something about me that I don’t.”
She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll consider anything. What’s your idea?”

“We lure this person out in the open...using you as the bait.”

“Me as the bait?” August rolled her eyes. “Sounds like a
brilliant plan.”

“If you find out who it is stalking you, it might jar your
memory.”

“I don’t know.”

“I can arrange something with Mike. You’d be perfectly safe.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

She wasn’t ready to let herself be shocked into remembering
that way. She couldn’t admit to him that during the drive here, she had been
hoping she wouldn’t remember. It was only when she didn’t that had she become
so irritated.

He pulled her gently by the hand, and August leaned against
him, her legs suddenly rubbery. At once, his warmth and the reassurance she
drew from his touch made her strong again.

“Hey.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “Do you think I would
let anything happen to you?”

She felt herself easing toward him as he gazed down at her,
one finger gently tracing under her chin. She wished he would kiss her again
while at the same time, she knew she should put a steady distance between them.

His lips brushed hers and August leaned closer, lifting her
mouth to his as if she had no control over her body. Their soft kiss turned
serious, and all at once August’s frustration drained away.

She would have liked the kiss to go on forever, but she
remembered their situation.

One room, one bed.

She couldn’t let this slide out of control. While under any
other circumstance she would welcome Geoffrey as her boyfriend and lover, an
exclusive significant other, she had to make sure her past was clear so she
could freely make that choice for her future.

She drew away and a second later opened her eyes. “We’d better
keep things G-rated.”

He stepped back and raised his hands. “You’re right. That was
my fault.”

“Uh-uh.” She grinned. “That was my fault.”

“Sweetheart, you’re great for my ego.”

She turned around and faced the bed. “I guess we’re stuck with
this room. I’ll take the left side so you don’t bump my arm.”

“Deal.” Two red spots appeared in his cheeks. August found it
adorable.

“Why don’t you look at the room service menu? I’m going to
take a shower.”

“Ugh! When this cast comes off, I’m going to take the longest,
hottest shower ever!” She peered into the small bathroom. “Thank goodness, a
north pointing tub.”

He looked at her questioningly.

“I can lean against the back with my cast on the outer edge.
The bathtub at your house faces the other way, so I lean back on the faucet and
drain lever to rest on the edge.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just sat up. Besides,
what could you do?”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know the tub in my loft is a ‘north
pointing’ tub, too.”

She turned back to the room, deliberately avoiding the subject.
“I’ll check out the menu.”

She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t going to be part of any
“trap” for her attacker, and she wasn’t going with him to Portland.

She intended to move out of Geoffrey’s house as soon as they
returned to Newport.

Chapter Fourteen

Colin pulled into his driveway and shut off the Jeep, dead
tired but at the same time, buzzing with nerves and anguish. He stared across
the dunes at the glistening night sea. Tears welled in his eyes, sending
starbursts shimmering across the silvery path cast by the low moon.

After waiting three hours in Seattle for a uniformed officer
to show up and then spend an eternity taking his credentials, he was finally
shown into the room where the unknown woman he prayed was Emily lay in a coma.

It wasn’t her. Even though the woman’s face was swollen and
pale and she had bandages across her nose and tubes coming out of her mouth, he
knew right away. It wasn’t his Emily.

God, could his fiancée really be dead?

He banged his fist against the steering wheel.
No
. He
refused to believe it. He wasn’t giving up on her. Dammit, he could feel her
inside himself. He would know if she were dead. A piece of him would be dead,
too.

The door to the kitchen opened, spilling a slice of yellow
light onto the driveway. The silhouette of his father’s burly frame filled the
doorway.

“Come inside, Colin. I need to talk to you.”

His heart sank. Even with the Jeep’s window rolled up, he
could hear the tone in his father’s voice: level and low, but very resolute.
That tone always meant bad news to come, or he was in trouble for something.

Christ, he hadn’t learned about Sonja, had he?

It would be just like her to go running to his father if she
didn’t get what she wanted from him.

Graham left the kitchen door standing open. Colin slipped out
of the Jeep and slammed the door behind him. His feet crunched across the
driveway, the only sound in an otherwise deathly still night. He couldn’t even
hear the never-ending crash of waves over the cottony hum of the highway still thrumming
in his ears.

He closed the kitchen door, but didn’t join his father at the
table. Graham sat motionless, holding a steaming cup of coffee between two
hands.

Colin saw it on the table beside the mug: Emily’s engagement
ring. His heart lurched in his chest.

“I found it today.” His father picked it up and held it out to
him.

Colin rushed across the tiny kitchen and grabbed it. “Where?”

“In one of the electronics compartments on the
Maraschino
.”

He stared at the delicate ring pinched in his fingers.

“She was wearing it that night,” Graham said, as if he needed
to be reminded.

A sharp sliver of ice plunged into his gut as he met his
father’s suspicious gaze.

“You want to tell me what’s going on, Colin?”

He shook his head, unable to form words.

“Why would she take it off? There’s something you’re not
telling me.”

“Like what?” Colin demanded. Sudden rage flared inside him
like a wildfire. “Are you saying she dumped me so I threw her overboard? Jesus
Christ, Dad. How could you even insinuate—”

“Calm down. I’m not saying that at all.”

Graham stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. Colin shrugged
it off. His father frowned.

“I’m asking you what would make her so upset she would take
off her engagement ring.”

Colin turned and paced across the tiny kitchen. He ran a hand
through his hair. “Maybe she didn’t want to catch it on something when she was
working.”

Or maybe somehow she found out about Sonja.
Christ, when I
get my hands on that bitch
—

“Colin, come clean with me now. If there was something that
made her so upset—”

“What? That she jumped? Emily wasn’t like that.”

Holy hell, this was getting worse by the minute. Sonja had
probably already been here and told Graham everything. His father was probably
baiting him into a confession, like he was a toddler caught in a lie. Shit,
that pissed him off.

But when he looked into his father’s eyes, the compassion and
the sadness he saw made him crumble inside. He’d loved Emily like his own
daughter, certainly more than her own father ever had. When they’d gotten
engaged, his father had been almost as happy as he was.

Colin sat at the table and pressed his fingers to his
eyebrows. The fatigue from six hours on the road could be rubbed away; this
situation could not.

He heard his father pull out the chair and sit beside him.
Other than a drawn sigh, Graham said nothing as he waited.

“Sonja’s pregnant.”

The weight suddenly came off Colin’s shoulders like a dozen
fat seagulls taking flight from an overstressed telephone wire.

He looked up at his father. Graham stared at a speck on the table,
his expression gray with raw grief. He suddenly looked every one of his
fifty-eight years.

“It’s mine,” Colin added, and then felt like an idiot. No
kidding, it was his. He clutched his head in his hands as a long moment of
miserable silence ticked by.

“How far along is she?”

“Almost five months.” He lifted his head and looked at his
father. “We weren’t having an affair. I never would have done that to Emily. We
were just...fooling around. I was drunk that night—at Spring Fling. Jesus, I
didn’t even want to do it.”

Except for another drawn sigh, his father didn’t condemn him,
and Colin felt a hot rush of gratitude. He wished he’d told his father as soon
as he’d learned himself. He’d always been there for him, supporting him no
matter what, and now Colin felt like an undeserving brat.

“Did Emily know?”

“I don’t know. But even if she did, she wouldn’t have jumped.”

“I know that.” His father patted him on the shoulder, and this
time Colin relished in the familial touch. “But she very well might have taken
off her ring, and thought about a hundred ways to get your balls in a vise.”

“Yeah, that sounds more like Emily.” He almost chuckled as he
thought of his fiancée with her gander up. She never did put up with his BS.

“Was Sonja below with you when Emily went overboard?”

Colin’s attention snapped clear and bright, as though he’d
been doused with icy water. “What are you saying?”

“Is it possible the two girls were fighting on deck?”

His stomach twisted. It was too horrible to consider. “No. No!
Sonja would never do that. She and Emily were best friends!”

“It could have been a terrible accident. We don’t know until
we talk to her.”

“Oh, God.” Colin shot out of his chair. He turned and paced
across the floor as the horrific images played in his mind like a living
nightmare. “Fuck. Please. Oh, shit.”

Graham rose and caught him by the shoulders. “Colin, get hold
of yourself.”

“Jesus, Dad.” He shook his head, unable to fathom the intensity
of what his father said. “Sonja couldn’t have—”

“I don’t want to believe it either.”

Colin covered his face with his hands and let go the first
tears since that night on the boat. His father pulled him into a hug and let him
cry like a baby, and for a moment Colin wished he
was
a baby again. No
problems, no responsibility. No heartache.
If only such a thing were
possible
.

“I think it’s time we called the police,” Graham finally said.

Colin nodded. He dropped into the kitchen chair, numb and raw,
almost detached from his physical self.

“Do you know what this means?” He looked up at his father, his
last crumb of hope wiped away. “My fiancée died because I cheated on her.”

* * *

Room service knocked on the door just as Geoffrey heard the
tub start to drain. A few minutes later, August emerged from the bathroom
wearing her knit shirt and a towel wrapped around her legs.

She sat at the small table and wound the length of her hair
behind her back with her good hand. “Mmmm, smells wonderful.”

Geoffrey removed the silver dome and placed a plate in front
of her. “German waffles with whipped cream, maple syrup, hash browns, hot
chocolate, and sliced honeydew melon.”

“Yum, breakfast for dinner. I love it.” She picked up a fat
waffle. “Excuse me while I eat with my fingers.”

Geoffrey laughed. “No problem.” It was just one more of her
endearing traits that was so uniquely, adorably August. Only she could eat with
her fingers and still look perfectly mannered. He poured a generous helping of
syrup onto a saucer and slid it over to her.

“Anything interesting on the news?” She leaned over to see the
screen.

“A storm, due to hit by Tuesday. No missing persons’ reports.”

She tipped her head to one side and offered him a lopsided
grin. “Wishful thinking.” She dipped the corner of the waffle in the syrup, bit
off a hunk, and chewed thoughtfully. “I really appreciate your bringing me up
here. Sorry it was a bust.”

“I wish for your sake it wasn’t.” He wasn’t sure if he was
lying or not.

She swallowed a mouthful of potatoes. “Maybe it’s better this
way. I was really scared, and almost hoping I didn’t recognize anything.” She
glanced at him sheepishly. “I think this is my mind’s way of telling me I’m not
ready to remember yet.”

He wondered if she’d become as content in Newport as he had
with her there. He was torn between his loyalty to her and his selfish desire
to have her all to himself.

“Nothing at all looked familiar?”

She leaned back in her chair and sipped her hot chocolate.
“Not a thing.”

The news broadcast flipped back to the storm warning, showing cartoon
animations representing the sleet and frigid winds coming from the arctic
region.