Chapter Ten
Delia came slowly back to consciousness. She moaned. Her stomach felt as if it had been ripped open. Her head was splitting.
“Baby?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at Barb with blank, curious eyes. “Barb?”
Barb was crying. “Oh, baby, thank God you’re alive,” she whispered hoarsely. “We were scared to death when Dunagan called us! I thought you were dead when we first got here!”
“I fell.” Delia’s mind was swimming. “There was a man with a gun…Marcus?!”
“He was still unconscious when we got here,” Barb said coldly. “And good enough for him!”
“Is he going to live?” Delia asked worriedly. “Please!”
Barb hated Carrera. She didn’t want to answer the question, but Delia did look so miserable. She couldn’t refuse her. “I haven’t seen him, but Barney said they think he’ll live,” she said reluctantly. “It was a concussion, just a little worse than yours. That brunette is all over him like measles,” she added disgustedly.
Delia closed her eyes. She was sick with grief, anguish, bitterness. At least Marcus was alive, even if the venomous brunette was in possession. Then like lightning striking, she thought about the baby she was carrying and the terrible pain in her stomach. She gasped.
Her hands went to her stomach. She looked up at Barb with icy fear, wanting to ask but afraid, too.
Barb’s face was eloquent. “You lost the baby, Delia. I’m sorry.”
Delia’s eyes clouded. Tears rolled helplessly down her cheeks. It had been Marcus’s child. He wouldn’t know. He was still unconscious. If he had concussion that severe, he could die, too, despite what the doctors were telling people.
Barb moved as close as she dared and held the younger woman gently. “Damn him!” she choked. “Damn him!”
“I loved him,” Delia whispered brokenly. “I wanted our baby.”
Barb ground her teeth together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew what you’d think,” Delia said miserably. “You’re so upright, Barb. You’d never have made a mistake like that.”
Barb’s face was contorted with pain, although Delia couldn’t see it. “I would have done anything I could for you,” she replied. “Anything, baby!”
Delia held her closer, her face awash with tears. “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you!” she said, knowing how much it had hurt her sister to be kept in the dark.
“There, there,” Barb whispered, stroking her hair. “It’s going to be all right, you’ll see. You’re safe now.”
“Dunagan?” Delia asked.
“He and Barney have gone off with some men in suits,” Barb muttered. “Good grief, I feel like a mushroom lately! Nobody tells me anything!” She lifted her head. “Just what were you doing when you fell, Delia? How did you fall?”
Delia didn’t want to involve Barb. If Dunagan and Barney had kept quiet, she had to do the same.
“The railing at the casino gave way,” she lied.
Barb sat up and stared down at her curiously, and not with an expression of trust. “Barney said you got knocked off the staircase by a man who stole from the casino and was trying to get away from security.”
“Did I say the railing gave way?” Delia touched her temple. “I must still be in shock.”
“I must be wearing a sign that says, Lie To Me,” Barb corrected darkly.
“It’s for your own good,” Delia replied. Her hands went back to her flat stomach. She was in shock right now, but it was going to be bad when it wore off. She didn’t even want to have to face it yet.
Barb got up from the bed and sat down in a chair, grateful that the nurses hadn’t seen her. Sitting on beds was strictly forbidden.
“Did they arrest a man in the casino, or did Barney say?” Delia asked hesitantly.
“The Bahamian police arrested a man for attempted murder, in fact,” Barb told her. “Dunagan had put handcuffs on him and Carrera’s head security man was sitting on him when the police arrived, according to Dunagan.”
“Ouch,” Delia murmured. “Mr. Smith is huge and the would-be killer was only a little guy—” She stopped abruptly.
“I am so ready to thump you when you’re better!” Barb said through her teeth. “You saved that gangster’s life, didn’t you? And risked your own to do it!”
Delia closed her eyes. “I’m really tired, Barb,” she whispered, becoming conveniently drowsy. “I just want to sleep for a while.”
Barb relented, but her eyes were worried. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk when you feel better. I’m just happy that you’re going to be all right. Delia,” she added slowly. “I’m sorry about the baby. But you don’t have a clue what it would have been like to have it and keep it and be unmarried. You just don’t.”
“Like you know!” Delia said with loving sarcasm, her eyes still closed.
Barb’s eyes were haunted. “I’m going to go and see where Barney got to. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
Delia was getting drowsy for real. “Okay,” she sighed.
Barb went out of the room and down the hall to intensive care. She paused at the desk.
“Marcus Carrera,” she said slowly. “Can you tell me how he is?”
“Are you a member of the family?” the nurse asked.
“No,” Barb replied, glancing through the window where the slinky brunette was leaning over Marcus in his bed. “But my sister saved his life.”
“Then she must have been the young woman who knocked down the man with the gun,” the nurse said at once, smiling. “My brother is a policeman, he told me. What a brave young lady!” She didn’t notice that Barb paled and gasped. The nurse was looking through the glass into the intensive care room where the brunette and Marcus were. “He’s just recovered consciousness. He’s going to be fine. Well, in time,” she added, leaning closer. “He doesn’t know who he is, though,” she whispered. “He’s lost his memory completely.”
Barb was secretly relieved. That might spare Delia a lot of pain down the road. At least it would make the last week of Delia’s vacation a peaceful one, once she knew how things stood. Barb was going to make sure that she had a good time.
“Thanks,” Barb told the nurse. “I won’t say anything about it, except to my sister.”
The nurse just smiled.
Barney was coming down the hall when Barb approached Delia’s room. He was alone, and he looked worried.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Sleeping, when I left,” Barb replied. She folded her arms tight across her chest. “Am I ever going to find out what’s going on?” she asked him. “According to a nurse, my sister foiled an assassination attempt on the gangster down the hall!”
He pulled her down the hall to the waiting room and sat down with her in a corner, away from other visitors.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, but it was impossible. They’ve got a contract killer in stir over in Nassau,” he told her. “He was sent here from Miami with explicit instructions to take out Carrera.”
“Who sent him, the government?” she asked, still shocked from what the nurse had told her.
“No,” he replied tersely. “It was a renegade gangster who’s trying to set up a money laundering operation down here with the first of many casinos he hopes to buy. He’s living in Miami and bucking the northern mob, and they don’t like it. But so far he hasn’t ticked any of them off. This will change things. Carrera has friends. Lots of them.” He took a breath. “That hood in Miami made a big mistake using a killer with a rap sheet the size of this guy’s. He’s still wanted for two murders in New Jersey, and federal marshals are already on the way to pick him up after his extradition hearing.”
“We’re going to be in the middle of a turf war,” Barb groaned.
“No,” her husband replied. “You don’t understand. Carrera’s little brother was knocked off by a money launderer right here in the Bahamas, a banker with mob connections and ties to the Colombian drug cartel. Carrera’s been after him for weeks. He’s working with the feds.”
Barb’s jaw fell.
“I thought you’d take it like that,” Barney murmured. “You can’t tell Delia,” he added firmly. “She’s already done more than I’m comfortable with. She saved Carrera’s life last night, twice. The first time she bumped into the assassin and put him on the run, before he knew who she was. The second time, she stopped him just as he fired. She and Carrera went over the banister in the struggle.” He shook his head. “Smith and Dunagan were just a few feet away, but they’d never have been in time. They had a communications breakdown. When Carrera’s back on his feet, Smith’s going to be in serious trouble, I’m afraid.”
“Barney, Carrera won’t know him,” she said slowly. “He won’t know anybody, including Delia. I just came from intensive care. Carrera’s regained consciousness, but he’s got amnesia. He doesn’t remember a thing.”
“Amnesia? Oh, that’s just great!” Barney growled. “Just great! We’re in the middle of a sting, and he’s the pivot. Without his cooperation, the little Miami rat we’re trying to trap may just get his foot in the door down here!”
“That’s not our problem,” Barb told him. “I just want to get my sister out of the hospital and back home.”
“I know that. But we can’t leave just yet,” he said apologetically. “I’m working with Dunagan because I’m thick with the money laundering banker,” he added. “I have to finish what I started.”
“Why are you mixed up in this?” Barb demanded. “And who is Dunagan?”
He grimaced. “I did a little artful doctoring of my taxes last year. If I do the feds this little favor, I get to pay the penalty and not lose half my livelihood.”
“Barney!” she exclaimed. “How could you!”
He patted her hand. “No need to sound so self-righteous, doll, we both know you’re not.”
“Delia doesn’t know, and she’s never going to!” Barb shot back.
He was hesitant. “There’s something I have to tell you. You aren’t going to like it,” he added. “The money laundering banker’s name is Fred Warner.”
She stiffened. “Fred, who tried to assault Delia?!”
“It gets worse. Fred got mad at Carrera for punching him over Delia that night, and he reneged on the deal he’d made with Carrera. He ratted him out to the Miami guy. That’s why the assassin came after him. They know Carrera’s working with the feds, and they’re planning to take him out. Right now, he’s the only one who knows what they’re up to—except for me and Dunagan—and with his memory gone, we’re in the hot seat together.”
Barb felt sick. “There’s more, right?”
“Fred’s not through getting back at people,” he told her. “He’s been talking to a private detective. I don’t know what he’s after, but he’s looking for revenge on me, too. It’s just as well they detected my little income tax artwork, because Fred would have turned me over to the government in a heartbeat.”
“He couldn’t find out about my past, could he?” she asked worriedly. “Mama’s dead. Nobody else alive knows…”
“We know, though, don’t we?” Barney said quietly. “There may be records somewhere that he can get into. I don’t know. I just thought you should be prepared.”
“I should have told her years ago, after we got married,” Barb said miserably. “She’ll never forgive me.”
Barney pulled her close and held her. “Cross bridges as you get to them, honey. Don’t anticipate them. We’ve been through more than this together. We’ll manage.”
“If we could just rewrite the past,” she said sadly, resting her cheek on Barney’s shoulder.
“Nobody gets to do that.” He kissed her forehead. “Did you tell her about the baby?” he added sadly.
“Yes, but I’m sure she guessed,” Barb said. Tears stung her eyes. “My poor Delia. She loved the fourteen-karat heel. She wanted that baby so much.”
“We know how that feels,” he replied, smoothing her hair. “A baby in the family would have been nice. I don’t guess she told Carrera?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “And he’s practically sewn to that hard-wired brunette who’s staying with him at the hospital, so it’s just as well.”
“I suppose. Amnesia. Imagine that.” He sighed. “Dunagan and I are going to have our work cut out for us now.”
“Well, you just keep my baby out of any future plans, you hear me, Barney?” she added firmly. “We’re not going to risk losing her, too. No matter what.”
“You know I’d never let Delia get hurt,” he said with a sad smile. “Has it occurred to you that we’ve made a tragic error of judgment? Your mother helped it along, but we could have overridden her.”
“It was too late by then.”
He grimaced. “Most of it was my fault.”
“I helped,” she reminded him gently. She reached up and kissed him. “I do love you, so much,” she whispered. “It was worth everything!”
“For me, too, honey,” he replied, and kissed her back.
“We can’t let Delia be hurt anymore,” she said.
“I’ll do my best to prevent it. You don’t think it might be wiser to just tell her the truth about her past now?”
She shook her head. “Not until I have to.”
“Then we’ll try to head off Fred. Come on. Let’s get a bite to eat while Delia’s sleeping. I’m starved and they must serve breakfast around her somewhere!”
She went along with him, only later remembering that he never had told her who, or what, Dunagan was.
Marcus had a hell of a headache, and it didn’t help that Roxanne Deluca wouldn’t stop fussing over him. He hadn’t recognized her, but she’d introduced herself and told him they were engaged. He noted the ring on her left hand and took it for gospel.
“What do I do for a living?” he asked her, sounding dazed.
“You own hotels and casinos all over the world,” she told him easily. “And you and my father are in business together.”
“We are? What sort?”
She gave him a calculating look. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
He put a hand to his head. He felt sick and his temples were throbbing. “How did I end up in here?”
“You accidentally fell in the casino and hit your head,” she lied glibly.
“Am I clumsy?” he mused.
“Not usually.”
He closed his eyes. “I’m sleepy.”
“Go to sleep, then, darling,” she told him sweetly. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“Okay,” he mumbled.
She stayed until she was certain he was asleep, then she went out into the hall next door to the restroom and used her cell phone. “Daddy?” she said after a minute. “He’s in the hospital. He doesn’t remember anything. No, he’s not faking, I’m positive, I asked a doctor. You can say anything you want to and he won’t be able to contradict it. Pity, he’s quite attractive. I know, Daddy, I’m not going soft. We can take him down at our leisure. Let me know where and when, and I’ll get him there when you’ve got somebody to do the job. And please get somebody efficient! I’ll be in touch. Ciao.”
She closed up the cell phone and walked back to Marcus’s room. Barb opened the rest room door cautiously and made sure the brunette was out of sight before she walked back down the hall toward Delia’s room. She had something very interesting to tell her husband.
The second day that Delia was in the hospital, she had an unexpected visitor—Karen Bainbridge, who walked in the door with an enormous bouquet of tropical flowers tied with a ribbon.
“I’m so glad that you’re both going to be all right,” Karen said. “But for Marcus to have lost his memory—I’m so sorry.”
Delia forced a smile. “I’m sorry, too, but at least he’s still alive. Do sit down! I’m so glad you came.”
“Your sister isn’t here with you?” Karen asked curiously.
“She and Barney went back to the hotel to get me some more nightwear,” Delia said. “We thought I’d be released today, but they want to keep me until tomorrow.”
“You’re all right?” Karen asked, concerned.
“Yes. I…just had some minor complications,” she replied, not wanting to tell the sweet elderly lady about the miscarriage.
Karen gave her a slow, penetrating look. “I told Marcus what you did, you know,” she said gently. “That you saved his life. He doesn’t remember who you are at the moment, but he was surprised and very grateful that you took such a risk on his behalf. I wanted to stay longer, but that woman with him seems very possessive. It wasn’t until Mr. Smith walked in that she backed off and stopped interfering.”
“Mr. Smith?”
She nodded. “He’s been running the enterprise while Marcus is here. He’s quite intelligent.”
“Yes,” Delia agreed.
“That woman almost didn’t let me into Marcus’s room. Mr. Smith moved her aside and invited me in. Marcus had no idea what was going on, but I imagine Mr. Smith will tell him sometime.”
Delia was miserable at how possessive that other young woman was, and she couldn’t hide it.
“There, there, dear,” Karen said softly, reaching out to touch Delia’s hand. “You mustn’t give up. I’ll never forget the way Marcus looked at you, the day we went out on the yacht together.”
“She’s wearing an engagement ring, and she says he gave it to her,” Delia replied solemnly. “At the casino, before we fell, Marcus told me they’d had a fight and that was the only reason he had anything to do with me. He said I had no place in his life.”
Karen was shocked. “He can’t have meant it.”
“He won’t remember it now,” Delia continued. “He won’t remember me, either. But he made it very obvious that he didn’t want anything more to do with me. At first,” she added hesitantly, “I thought he was in danger and he was protecting me by telling me not to come near him. That was before she told me about the engagement. He told me, too, at the casino.”
Karen’s face fell. “I’m sorry. You seemed like such a perfect couple—and so much in love with each other.”
“It did feel like that, for a while.” She leaned back against her pillows with a deep breath. “You know, I felt as if I’d known him forever. Now I feel like a fool.” She looked at Karen. “Life teaches painful lessons.”
“Indeed it does, my dear. My fiancé was killed in Vietnam. I was never able to love anyone else,” the older woman replied gently.
“Karen, I’m so sorry.”
She smiled wistfully. “We might have been divorced a week after the wedding, who knows? But the memories are very sweet. He was an American, from Oklahoma. His parents had a ranch that had been in his family for a hundred years.” She stared down into her lap. “He was riding in a helicopter, airlifting wounded men, when the helicopter was shot down.”
“It must have been devastating,” Delia ventured.
“It took years to get over it,” Karen agreed. She looked at the younger woman sympathetically. “Death or rejection, it’s all loss, and it hurts. But you can get over this, too, my dear. I’ll help. Any time you want to go sailing, all you have to do is call me.”
“I’m very grateful,” she replied. “Thank you.”
“And now, let’s talk about something cheerful! What do you think of my new crop of orchids?” she asked, indicating the bouquet she’d brought with her. She refrained from mentioning that Marcus had given them to her over the years and that her orchids were descended from his. Poor Delia. Her heart ached for the girl. She’d heard about the baby Delia lost, and she knew without asking that it was Marcus’s. She’d told Smith that Delia had lost the child she was carrying. Smith had been shocked. She’d asked him not to share that with Marcus, because of the brunette. Smith had been utterly furious, and hurt. Karen sensed that he felt a responsibility for that loss. But he’d promised he wouldn’t tell Marcus that in addition to losing his memory, he’d lost a child, as well.
Roxanne was raising so much havoc in Marcus’s room that the nursing staff finally ordered her out. She vowed to return with an attorney, but she left.
Smith stood beside Marcus’s bed like a stone statue. “Have you remembered anything, Mr. Carrera?” he asked his boss.
Marcus still felt as if his head was coming off. The nausea was easing a little, thanks to his medication. He stared up at the big, bald man with wide, blank dark eyes. “I don’t know you,” he said. “I don’t know that woman who keeps coming in here, either, but I’ll never believe I was stupid enough to get engaged to her. She’s a lunatic!”
Smith grimaced. He didn’t dare tell Marcus the truth. It would put the boss in more danger than he was already in.
Marcus was glaring at him. “You know all about me, don’t you?”
“I’ve worked for you for a year, now,” Smith said.
Marcus grimaced. “There was an old woman who came to see me. She said a young woman down the hall threw herself at a man who was trying to shoot me. She saved my life. I don’t remember her. And why was someone trying to kill me?”
Smith ground his teeth. “Your doctor says we can’t tell you anything yet. He says your memory will come back all on its own, but you have to give it time.”
“I could be dead before then.”
“I’m not letting anybody kill you,” Smith promised him. “You may have lost your memory, but I’ve still got mine. I know all I need to know, in order to protect you. I’m afraid you’ll just have to trust me.”
“Why is that young woman in the hospital?” Marcus persisted.
Smith drew in a calming breath. If he didn’t say, Marcus would ask a nurse, and that might provoke gossip. “She was pregnant,” Smith said flatly. “The father of the child didn’t know, if that was your next question. She’s not married.”
Marcus thought about that for a minute. His face was taut with strain, as if he were trying to remember anything about his past. He sat up in the bed and swayed a little. “Will they let you walk me down the hall?”
Smith hesitated. “I’ll go ask.”
He knew where Marcus wanted to go. It was possible that seeing Delia would trigger his memory. But if he meant to do it, it needed to be before Roxanne came back and took over again.
He asked the nurse, who agreed that Marcus could go down the hall if Smith was careful to support him.
“Your nurse says you can go walking,” Smith said, helping Marcus into a burgundy bathrobe.
“Good. I want to see that young woman before my so-called fiancée gets back here. Let’s go.”
Delia saw her door open with a feeling of apprehension, especially when she realized that Marcus had come to see her.
He looked dazed, and he was moving very slowly. Smith gave her a quick warning glance, which she interpreted to mean that she wasn’t to tell Marcus anything. She nodded back.
Marcus stopped at the foot of her bed and stared at her. He saw a plain, green-eyed young woman with tangled blond hair and a slender body. She wasn’t pretty or exciting. She didn’t seem his sort of woman at all.
He frowned. “Smith said you saved my life,” he said without preamble.
“So they tell me,” she replied in a heavily Texas-accented voice.
His eyebrows arched. “My God, what an accent!” he laughed. “Where are you from?”
She glowered at him. “A little town in south Texas that nobody from Chicago probably ever heard of.”
He glanced at Smith curiously. “Am I from Chicago?”
Smith nodded.
Marcus looked back at the young woman in the bed. “How do you know where I’m from? Are we acquainted?”
She looked at Smith worriedly.
“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Marcus grumbled. “Do I know you?”
Delia took a breath. “You saved me from an assault at your casino,” she said, compromising with the truth. “I saved you from an assault. We’re even.”
“Not quite.” Marcus stared at her while odd flashes of sensation wound through his big body. “You were pregnant, they said. You lost your child.”
Delia fought to keep her feelings from showing. “God’s will,” she said in a tight tone.
His eyebrows arched. “You’re religious?”
She avoided his eyes. “Yes.”
He was scowling again. “I think I was, too…Did you want your baby?” he asked bluntly.
She ground her teeth together. It hurt to answer that question. It hurt to look at him and have him know about their baby, and not be able to tell him that it was his, as well.
“Yes,” she bit off. “I wanted it.”
“The father, did he want it, too?”
She glared at him, fighting tears. “He didn’t know. But if he had, it wouldn’t have made any difference. He didn’t want me. He certainly wouldn’t have wanted a child of mine.”
He couldn’t let it go. He felt something when he looked at her. He didn’t understand why he should feel sad. “Did you love him?”
She couldn’t force herself to meet his searching gaze. “Yes. I loved him.”
He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, “about your child.”
She didn’t look up. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for what you did,” he replied.
“As I said,” she choked, “I was repaying a favor.”
He winced. He didn’t know why it hurt him to hear her say that. His mind was spinning. He moved and almost lost his balance. Smith caught him, but he noted an instinctive surge forward from that young woman in the bed. She was concerned for him, even in the midst of her grief. Why should that make him feel guilty?
“We should go,” Smith said deliberately, “before your fiancée comes back and misses you. There’ll be a scene.”
“God knows, we’ve had enough of those,” Marcus muttered. He was still watching Delia. “They say I’m rich. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t need a thing, but thanks,” she replied, forcing a smile. Her eyes wouldn’t go up far enough to meet his.
“Get better,” Marcus said as he turned away.
“You, too.”
“I’ll be fine. My condition’s not a patch on yours,” she said without thinking.
A patch. A patch. A four-patch, a nine-patch, those were quilting terms. He turned so quickly that he almost fell again. “You make quilts!” he said abruptly.