Memory Lapse: A Slater Vance Novel (17 page)

With a furrow of her
brow, she asked faintly, “What?”

Swishing some of his
drink in his mouth before swallowing slowly, he studied the glass as he twirled
it against his thigh. “I’d been in the Marine’s Special Operations Corps for several
years prior to meeting my wife, Anne. I hate to admit that my life really
didn’t change that much after we married. I’d go off on my missions and then
come home on leave before taking off again. Anne understood that about me and
accepted it. I… I think we were happy. But when she got pregnant with our
daughter, Sophie, things changed – at least for Anne. She… she wanted me home
more – for her… for our daughter when she came; but I wasn’t ready to give up
the life I knew.”

Slater paused in
reflection, and Janet said quietly, “It must have been a hard decision. So what
did you do?”

With a heavy sigh and
taking another sip, Slater continued, “It wasn’t a hard decision in hindsight,
but at the time I was so angry and refused to give up the corps. I resented
Anne for trying to make me give up the life I loved. When I missed Sophie’s
eighth birthday, Anne filed for divorce. I was in Afghanistan at the time and
our mission was going to shit. Members of the Afghanistan forces began
targeting members of our team for elimination. I got permission to return
stateside to try and talk some sense into Anne. She agreed to meet me at
Ellis’s Coffee House and she brought Sophie, whom I’d not seen in over eight
months. I got to the coffee shop early and sat at a window booth. I watched
them when they got out of her car. Anne, with her long blond hair – I remember
she was wearing jeans and these ridiculously high-wedged shoes. I was sure
she’d fall before she made it to the coffee shop. Sophie had gotten so tall, I
wouldn’t have recognized her if she hadn’t been the spitting image of her
mother. I have to admit my chest puffed out at the sight of them. My girls were
beautiful. And I realized in that moment what I was missing, what I was putting
at risk. I promise you that when I saw my two girls coming across the street,
my world changed. I knew in that moment that I’d do anything to keep them. They
were so beautiful and golden.”

Slater let out a long
sigh, and traced the rim of his glass with his fingertip. “But Anne was firm.
She was done. She was tired of being alone and didn’t believe I wanted the same
thing. She stayed through breakfast and I went with them when they left to walk
across the street, seeking any amount of time to try and change Anne’s mind. I
was pleading with her as we crossed the street… begging her for another chance.
If I’d been paying more attention I… might have noticed the semi barreling down
on us. When we first left the sidewalk, out of instinct I checked the street
but didn’t notice anything that was a threat to us, but unbeknownst to me, the
Afghanistan Forces had put out a hit on me, and they knew I was here. They
seemed to believe they’d make a bigger statement by coming after me on U. S.
soil. The semi seemed to come out of nowhere, and boom, they were gone… and I
was left with… nothing. When I came to in the hospital, I’d lost everything –
everything to the job I loved.”

Slater paused for a beat
before adding, “But Anne got her wish… I never went back. I was in the hospital
for a month and I… just never went back.”

Janet sat with her mouth
set in a grim line. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.
That is horrible. Did they catch the man who’d run you down?”

“The semi crashed and
blew up – killing the driver. So I didn’t even have the satisfaction of hunting
him down.”

“It’s probably just as
well, vengeance never is as satisfying as we think it will be,” she said
comfortingly.

“If I’d quit when Anne
first asked, they’d still be alive and we’d still be together. So it wouldn’t
matter even if I’d been able to track down the driver or not –
I
killed them as surely as if I’d driven
over them myself.”

Janet’s hair swirled
about her shoulders as her head snapped in his direction. She gasped and placed
a hand over her mouth. “No, you can’t believe that. It wasn’t your fault. You
wanted to get your family back. You came back for them. You loved them.”

“Not enough, not nearly
enough,” he said faintly, tossing the rest of the scotch down his throat.
“Listen, uh… I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night.”

Janet called goodnight to
his retreating form. Wow, what a horrible situation. It certainly explained a
lot about the internal workings of Slater Vance. First, he loses his parents at
a tender age in a car wreck; then he loses his wife and daughter by a heinous
act. She could see how he’d have intimacy issues… and guilt issues.

Janet jumped when Tucker
came around the swing and lightly touched her on her shoulder before sitting
down beside her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to
startle you. Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s just been a
long day.”

Glancing back towards the
house, Tucker said, “I saw Slate come back in the house looking a little
pensive, he didn’t say anything to upset you, did he?”

Janet slid her eyes
towards the house before slowly responding. “No, nothing like that. He was…
telling me about his wife and daughter. About losing them, I mean.”

Tucker stared at her for
a long moment before saying, “I am surprised he told you. He doesn’t tell many
people anything, much less anything that personal. He tends to be very private.
I hope this is a good sign. He’s been too closed off for too long.” With a
small nod of his head, he continued almost to himself, “Yes, this
definitely
is a good thing.”

They sat silently
together for a while before she folded her hands together and asked pensively,
“What’s going to happen after tomorrow, Father?”

Tucker placed his hand
over her folded ones, “What do you mean?”

“Where will I go? Once
the casts are removed, I won’t need to stay here.”

“Don’t worry – Slate
won’t kick you out in the street. We’ll find you a place to go. First, let’s
see what he turns up tomorrow,
then
we’ll decide.
Okay?” he said soothingly.

Slowly she nodded her
head. At the re-mention of his name, Janet’s thoughts returned to Slater Vance.
She sat with her heart heavy for the man inside. What a terrible burden to
carry. While he tried to remain behind the wall he’d erected, she often saw him
reaching to help those he loved, especially his brother. While he had every
right to be angry and bitter, his ingrained sense of high moral principles and
rigid standards of honor ruled him more so than his negative emotions. It came
to her suddenly – it was a façade. He was vulnerable, just as vulnerable as she
was. He just handled it differently than she did. How awful to finally realize
what was most important to you in life and have it snatched away – right when
you were literally reaching for it.

As in the hospital, the
image of the leaf blowing in the wind and being caught by tiny hands flitted
through her mind. Were those her child’s hands? Her heart caught for her own
self as well. What would Slater find out tomorrow? Would he find that she was
actually alone? If she did lose a child, would she want to remember it? She
didn’t know. For some reason, she remembered a country song by Garth Brooks
where he sang about losing someone, but even so, he still wanted to remember
the dance. Would she? Would it be too painful? She was giving herself a
headache. By mutual consent, she and Tucker made their way back into the house.
The next day was going to be a busy day for everyone.

◊◊◊

Standing in the walk-in closet, she hung all his shirts up
according to color. Then she pulled the ruler out of her back pocket and measured
the distance between the hangers. It was so important they measured exactly one
inch between them. Satisfied, she stepped back and saw a shirt sticking out of
the clothes hamper. Hurriedly, she went to it and lifted the lid, intending to
ensure it was completely inside, when she saw the peach-colored smear across
the collar. Her mind immediately flew to the woman she’d seen wearing just that
shade, Sonia
Creedy
, her best friend and next door
neighbor. Holding the shirt close to her body, she sank down to her knees on
the thick pile of off-white carpet. How could this have happened? How could she
not have seen it?

The tears overwhelmed her and slid down her face. What was
she to do? Slowly, she reached down and rubbed her protruding belly. She jumped
at his snarl from behind her. Slowly she turned her face towards him. She’d
found it was always better to see it coming…

Janet jerked awake and
told herself repeatedly,
it was only a
dream, only a dream
. Had that really happened? Had she left someone, her
husband, by chance? Was that why no one came for her? Her mind lingered on the
protruding belly of her dream. Slowly, she ran her hand over her flat stomach.

◊◊◊

Slater woke a lot less
melancholy than the day before. He had a lot to get done: he needed to pick up
his rental car; go by his office; and check into Janet’s address.

Janet came into the
kitchen not long after he’d set about preparing breakfast.

“Good Morning,” she
murmured, exhausted from her night of tossing and turning.

“Morning,” he replied
quietly, “I was just making breakfast. Would you like some?”

She shook her head. She
was much to wound up
to eat
. He motioned for her to
sit at the table and he brought her a cup of coffee. Sipping the hot liquid,
she watched him move around the kitchen. He was very precise in everything he
did. He was careful with the way he lined things up and never set a used spoon
on the counter without something being placed under it… she was that way also
.
She had to be.
Where’d that come from?
she
thought.

Janet felt an irrational
fear settle over her. She swallowed and struggled to even out her breathing.
She leaned forward and stirred sugar into her coffee from the container on the
kitchen table – more to distract herself rather than her desire for the sweet
additive.

Lost in thought, it took
her a minute to realize Slater had stilled and was watching her oddly.

With a quizzical look,
she asked, “What?”

Tilting his head to the
side, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,
why?”

With a shrug, he nodded
towards her coffee cup. “You’re beating the hell out of that coffee cup with
that spoon.”

Placing a napkin down on
the table, she carefully set the spoon to rest on top of it, arranging it just
so.

Janet hesitated. She
wasn’t sure how to answer, or if she should. Blowing out a deep breath, and
with eyes trained on her hands encircling her coffee cup, she said quietly,
“I’m worried about today. Worried about what you’ll find. I need you to promise
me something, okay?” she asked, raising her eyes to meet his.

With confusion in his
eyes, he nodded his head. “Okay.”

Glancing away from his
too-perceptive eyes, she said even softer, “If, when you go to my address
today… if something doesn’t seem… right,” she said in a tone which questioned
if that was the right word, “please don’t tell him where I am.”

“Why do you assume there
will be
a him
?
Have you remembered something?”

Swallowing the fear, she
again looked down at her coffee. “No, not remembered. Just flashes of things.”
She hesitated and he didn’t interrupt. “Not to be dramatic, but I’m… afraid for
no reason. No reason I know for sure. I just get the feeling I was… well,
controlled. Just be careful, please.”

“Okay,” he responded
soothingly.

◊◊◊

Slater unlocked his office
doors, happy to see they were still intact. He punched in the security code to
shut off the alarm. Bennie’s desk was lying on its side with the drawers
removed and tossed about the room. The drawers’ contents appeared to have been
run through the shredder and lay about the room like snow. The overkill of
destruction was beyond anything he could have imagined. Pictures and prints
that had once hung on the wall now also littered the floor. Picking his way
through the war-torn country that was Bennie’s office, he was stopped
momentarily when he reached the hall. The familiar pictures, which had hung
there for five years, now lay smashed on the floor. Kicking the frames and
glass out of his path, he entered his office.

As with Bennie’s desk,
his own was tipped over, but his was ripped apart. The wall which encased his
safe had been slammed with what he could only assume was a sledgehammer. The
safe itself had been removed from the wall.
Well,
damn
. The safe had contained his business license; checkbooks; and around
five thousand dollars in cash. Slater rubbed a hand through his hair.
What the hell were they looking for
? He
was so frustrated. At this point, all they had to do was ask and he’d give it
to them. This was ridiculous.

Glancing at the wall in
front of him, he groaned again. Even if he wanted to review the security tapes,
he wouldn’t be able to, as his flat screen had been smashed into tiny bits. The
thing that frustrated him the most was that nothing in the safe – outside of
the money and the contact list – would help anyone else. All his pictures and
documentation were saved on a server. The server was automatically backed up
daily by a private online company, Skye Data Systems, which specialized in
computer and data storage.
This was the
twenty-first century
– did someone really think he’d leave a client’s
pictures and information just lying around unsecured?