Chapter Eleven
Delia felt her heart rise into her throat. He’d remembered! Would that trigger other memories?
But his lack of recognition was evident as he looked at her. “I don’t know where that came from,” he said, looking blank. He smiled politely. “Do you quilt?”
“I teach quilting back home,” she replied. “We…spoke about it after you saved me from the man I was with.”
He put a hand over his eyes as if he wanted to wipe away the fog that concealed his past. “Someone mentioned that I quilt, too, as a hobby.”
“You’ve won competitions with your designs,” she agreed.
He nodded, but he wasn’t thinking so much about quilts as he was wondering why he’d had such an extensive conversation with a woman who didn’t appeal to his senses at all. She seemed like a kind woman, but she didn’t stimulate him or make him wish for a closer acquaintance. There couldn’t have been anything between them, he decided.
He smiled politely. “Thanks again. I’d better be going.”
“I hope you regain your memory,” Delia said, with equal politeness.
He shrugged. “If I don’t, it’s probably no great loss,” he said, chuckling. “It might be nice to start fresh.”
“It might, indeed,” Delia agreed, although he was twisting a knife through her heart.
He nodded to Smith, who got under his arm and steadied him down the hall to his own room. Smith felt sick to his soul about Delia. He gave her a last look, grimacing at the moisture growing in her eyes. Poor little thing, he thought miserably.
The next day, they released Delia and let her go back to the hotel, with instructions to rest for a day or two before doing anything strenuous. Since her plans had to do with sunbathing and sightseeing, she didn’t think of that as a problem.
Marcus was also released. Roxanne followed behind the limousine as Smith drove him to his beach house. She carried in her suitcase and looked as if she had plans to take over.
“You’d better stay at the hotel,” Marcus told her.
“We’re engaged,” she retorted.
He stared at her for a long time. “I want my memory back. That’s more likely to happen if I’m here on my own with no distractions.”
“He’s here,” Roxanne fumed, glancing at Smith ruefully.
“He cooks,” came the reply. “Besides, he’ll be running the casino and the hotel in my absence, so he’s unlikely to be around much anyway.”
Roxanne paid close attention to that statement. She looked thoughtful.
Smith noticed and decided to make a couple of phone calls. He was going to add some extra gardeners to the house as well—men he’d worked with before who were handy with sidearms. He didn’t trust Roxanne or her father one bit, and he was suspicious of her concern for Marcus, as well as the mysterious engagement that nobody knew anything about. It could be real, he decided, but only Marcus would know. And Marcus had no memory.
“Smith, take her over to the hotel and book her into a suite,” Marcus said.
“Yes, sir.”
Roxanne glared at him but she backed down. “All right, darling, if that’s the way you want it. But all you have to do is phone me if you get lonely.”
“Thanks,” he replied.
She pulled her suitcase on wheels back out the door as Smith led the way. Marcus watched her go with mixed feelings, the most prominent of which was suspicion.
Later, when Smith returned, Marcus was dressed in lightweight white slacks with a red and white patterned shirt. He was standing out on his balcony with the wind ruffling his hair. He’d been drawn to the balcony, as if something important had happened to him there. He wished he knew what it was. The harder he tried to remember, the worse his head throbbed.
He turned at Smith’s approach. “Who is that woman?” he asked.
“She’s Deluca’s daughter. He’s a Miami hood who wants to own crooked casinos down here and launder money through a local banker,” Smith said honestly. “Her father doesn’t like you, so don’t believe it when she tells you he’s your biggest fan. You didn’t have any plans to marry her, either.”
Marcus put a big hand to his forehead and groaned.
“Sorry, boss,” Smith said at once. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I wanted to know.” The pain was terrible. He lifted his head, trying to focus. He looked right at Smith. “Who tried to kill me?”
“An insignificant little contract killer with a four-page rap sheet,” Smith said. “Listen, boss, I’m not sure I should be telling you this stuff.”
“There’s nobody else who can.” Marcus moved to the balcony overlooking the ocean. “Who sent him after me?”
Smith hesitated.
Marcus pinned him with threatening dark eyes. “Spill it!”
“Deluca,” he said.
Marcus raised both eyebrows. “Why?”
Smith ground his teeth together. Well, it might save the boss’s life if he knew. He had to tell him. “You’re trying to shut Deluca down,” he said tautly.
“That doesn’t make sense!”
“Yes, it does.” Smith moved closer. “You had a brother, Carlo. He married Cecelia Hayes, his childhood sweetheart. They had two beautiful little kids, Cosima and Julio. Carlo finally got off drugs and straightened out, but before he could get his life back together, he was killed by the banker Deluca’s working with, because he informed about some Colombian cocaine shipments to the feds. He died and you swore to get even. You’ve been working with the feds to shut down the banker and keep Deluca from coming in here and starting up crooked gaming.” Smith cleared his throat. “The banker doesn’t know you found out about him being involved in Carlo’s death, but he did find out you were working for the government, and he was angry that you hit him to save Delia Mason from him that night at the casino. So he sold you out to Deluca and Deluca sent a cleaner after you. That’s it in a nutshell.”
Marcus felt ill. He leaned hard against the balcony. He had a brother, a niece and nephew, and he didn’t remember any of it. A man was trying to kill him.
“Where does Roxanne come in?” he asked.
“She was hanging around you with a peace offer from her father that you were considering. She was supposed to keep you unsuspecting while the killer did his work. But Delia Mason got in the way. When you got amnesia Roxanne moved in and pretended you were engaged. She was overheard talking to her father on a cell phone to tell him you were vulnerable and they could take you on at their leisure.”
“In other words, he’ll send someone else to tie up the loose ends,” Marcus guessed.
“Exactly. But you have amnesia and you trust Roxanne, so they won’t play such a close hand this time. They’ll feel safe.”
Marcus smiled. “Good. Can you get me in touch with the feds I’m working with, unobtrusively?”
“That’s going to be tricky. One of them cuffed the perp in plain view of Roxanne. He was playing the part of a tourist, but he’s blown his cover. He was seen in the company of Delia’s brother-in-law, who’s also helping the government with this sting operation. That means I can’t get you close to the feds. And if I’m seen with them, the jig’s up, too.”
“What about the woman, Delia?” he asked.
Smith grimaced. “Good God, boss, she’s been through enough!”
Marcus glared at him. “Do you think she’s safe? She foiled the hit, didn’t she? Do you think Deluca will let that slide?”
“I hear from my sources that he’s got something on her sister that he’s planning to use, by way of revenge. He can’t kill her, everybody would know who did it.”
“Everybody will know who did it if he hits me, too,” Marcus reminded him.
“Maybe. But Deluca’s daughter is supposedly engaged to you, which means he’s not got a visible motive for killing you.”
Marcus sighed angrily, and glared out over the ocean. “I can’t remember a damned thing. I still don’t understand why the Mason woman risked her life and her child’s life to save mine. She isn’t my type. I don’t even find her interesting. Surely I didn’t encourage her?”
Smith didn’t dare answer that question. “You saved her from the money-laundering banker,” Smith said, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s hero worship.”
Could it be that simple? He turned back to Smith and saw nothing in that calm countenance. He shrugged. “I guess that could explain it.”
Great, Smith thought, relieved.
“Who was the old woman who came to see me?” Marcus persisted.
“Karen Bainbridge. You’re friends. You got her interested in orchids. She grows them for nurseries now.”
“Orchids. Karen.” He frowned. “I grow orchids?”
“Yes. You’ve got a greenhouse full of them.”
“And I make quilts.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I do that.”
“Why not? I knit.”
Marcus’s eyes were shocked. Smith was over six feet, solid muscle, with a military special ops background. He was a dead shot as well. “You knit?”
Smith shrugged. “I quit smoking because it bothered Tiny.” He saw the blank look he was getting. “Tiny is my iguana. She lives in my room, in a giant cage.”
“A giant iguana.” Marcus frowned. “Do I like her?”
“Yes. But the point is, since I quit smoking, I’ve got to have something to do with my hands. You used to smoke cigars. You said that’s why you started quilting.”
“Orchids. Cigars. An old woman for a friend and a plain, uninteresting girl from Texas saved me from a hit man. It wouldn’t pass as fiction, much less fact!”
Smith pursed his lips. “It would make a great novel.”
Marcus glared at him. “I pay your salary, right?”
“Right.”
“Get out there and find the feds. Tell them I’m game to help them nab this Deluca guy, but I’ll need direction. I don’t remember anything, and I won’t know the players. They’ll have to work out the logistics.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“That girl,” Marcus said hesitantly. “Maybe I should send her some flowers or something.”
Smith hesitated. It would give Delia false hope, and make her recovery even more difficult. “Not a good idea,” he replied finally. “Roxanne might get upset and do something unexpected.”
He sighed. “Good point. Okay. I’m going to stick around here. Get busy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Delia laid on the beach, soaking up the sun and trying not to go crazy thinking about the child she’d lost. It was every bit as bad to remember the look on Marcus’s face when he’d stared at her in the hospital. She could tell that he found nothing remotely attractive about her, that he was supremely disinterested in her. It broke her heart because it made her question if he’d really felt anything more than desire for her when they were together. Perhaps it was exactly as he’d said; the brunette and he had argued, and he’d gone out with Delia for revenge. It made sense. A man like that wouldn’t be attracted to a plain woman. It went against the grain.
She watched the water lap up on the shore with sad eyes, one hand lying quietly on the flat stomach that no longer contained her child. It was going to be hard to get over that. She probably never would.
A shadow fell over her. She looked up and Barney was standing there, wearing a neat suit. Amazing how familiar he looked sometimes, she thought. She’d always been fond of Barney, and he’d spoiled her rotten as a child. It was one of her greatest blessings that her sister’s husband was honestly fond of her.
“Hi, Barney,” she said, and smiled.
He pulled up a chair and sat down, facing her. “Hi, baby,” he said, addressing her exactly as Barb always had. “I need to talk to you.”
“It’s about that Miami guy that Marcus is mixed up with, isn’t it?” she asked. “Marcus is still in the line of fire. Is the government after him?”
He nodded. “No. Marcus is working for the government,” he told her bluntly, “but you can’t say that to anybody, you hear me?”
“I do.” She looked at him, wounded now that her faith in Marcus had paid off just as he’d pushed her out of his life. He’d been a good guy all along. “Then who’s after him?” she asked.
“Deluca is, and he isn’t going to quit. Marcus doesn’t remember anything, but he wants to go ahead with the sting.”
“But Deluca’s hit man missed!”
“Deluca won’t mess up if he sends another one. We have to get him off the street as soon as possible. We found a way to communicate with him through a cabdriver, but we’re going to bait a trap for Deluca and it’s dangerous. All of us think it would be a good idea if you went back to Jacobsville before it goes down.”
Delia looked at him with pained eyes. “Why do I have to go? Nobody knows I was going out with Marcus, we kept it very low-key. Besides, he’s engaged. That brunette stingray’s living with him, isn’t she?” she added coldly. “I’m no threat to anybody.”
“She isn’t living with him. She’s staying in the hotel.” He studied his clasped hands, trying to find a way around what he knew he should be telling her.
“Delia, it’s best if you go home. I can’t tell you why.”
“Is it because Marcus’s enemies might target me?”
He hesitated. “You’re not in any physical danger,” he said.
“Barney, you’re hiding something from me,” she said with certainty. “This isn’t like you.”
He grimaced. “There are things you don’t know,” he began. “Like who your father is.”
“Who my father is?” she ventured, shocked. “But my father died before I was born. I was premature…!”
He cleared his throat and there was a dull flush across his cheeks. “Well, that isn’t exactly how it was. But what you have to know is that Fred’s mad at us. He told Deluca that Marcus was going to sell him out, and that’s why a hit man got sent in Marcus’s direction.”
That explained a lot. “But Marcus doesn’t remember that!”
“If he does, he’s dead. The Deluca woman told her father that Marcus doesn’t remember anything about him, so he thinks he’s safe. Deluca will be working on a replacement for the hit man. We’re watching Marcus like a hawk. They won’t catch us off guard again. But you’re another matter. Fred’s got some…well, some information he shouldn’t have, about you.”
She sat up, concerned. “What could he do with it?”
Fred looked pained. “Damn it, I told Barb she should have talked to you about this. She won’t. She’s scared to death to tell you.”
“Barney, you’re scaring me.”
He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I don’t mean to. It’s just, you need to know what’s going on. I guess I’ll have to tell you…”
“Barney!”
Barb’s taut voice carried down the beach as she walked toward them in platform sandals, sinking to her ankle in the deep sand with each step. She grumbled all the way.
“What are you two talking about?” she asked suspiciously.
Barney sighed. “I was about to tell Delia…”
“…About our plans for dinner?” she finished for him. “We’re taking you to this exclusive seafood place. There’s a movie star in town and he eats there every night.” She mentioned the name of a Texas movie star who’d been in a recent Western. He was Delia’s favorite.
“That would be nice, Barb,” Delia said, but she knew Barb had interrupted them deliberately. Whatever Barney knew, Barb didn’t want Delia to know.
“I was telling her that we want her to go back to Texas, as soon as possible,” Barney added coolly.
Barb didn’t say anything for a minute. “At the end of the week,” she said then. “Let her have a little vacation first.”
“The longer she stays, the worse the risk,” Barney reminded his wife.
“What risk?” Delia asked. “You just said I wasn’t in any danger.”
“Not that kind of danger,” Barney said.
Barb and her husband exchanged an odd look.
“The end of the week, then,” Barney said, rising. He kissed Barb’s cheek. “You should tell her,” he added softly.
“Tell me what?” Delia exclaimed, exasperated.
“Barney was only teasing,” Barb said when he left. “Now, suppose we wander down Bay Street to the straw market? I feel like a new hat!”
Delia was still weak, but she knew the exercise was good for her. She bought a small wooden elephant and a new straw bag to take home with her. Barb was unusually animated, but not very forthcoming. Something was definitely going on.
That evening at the restaurant, Marcus came in with Roxanne on his arm. Delia tried not to look at him. It hurt so much to see him with the other woman.
He paused at their table to speak to them. He looked at Delia carelessly, summing her up as part of the furniture. He smiled at Barb and invited them over to see his orchid collection the next day.
“We’d love to, thanks,” Barney said at once, taking advantage of the public invitation to do some private business with Marcus.
Roxanne grumbled, “But we were going out tomorrow!”
“You may be. I’m not,” Marcus told her. “I’ll see you about eleven, then?” he asked Barney and Barb. He didn’t look at Delia at all as he and Roxanne passed on to their table. Delia felt like sinking under the carpet.
Marcus had orchids everywhere, but especially in the enormous, expensive greenhouse with its own climate control.
He acquainted them with the various species of orchid, and showed them how the beautiful flower grew only in bark, not in soil. The colors ranged from pink and white, to spotted yellow and deep orange. There were huge bracts of flowers, and tiny ones. The containers that held them were as unique as the orchids themselves.
While Barney and Barb were enthusing over one particular species, Delia found herself briefly alone with Marcus. He was wearing light Bermuda shorts and a patterned green and white shirt that made his eyes look even darker. She had on a blue and white sundress with white sandals, her long hair hanging around her shoulders. She was still pale from her ordeal.
“You seem to be doing well,” he remarked, feeling uncomfortable with her.
“So do you, Mr. Carrera,” she replied politely. “Your orchids are…”
“Who are you?” he asked huskily, his gaze as intent as his tone. “I don’t know you, but it upsets me just to look at you. Why?”
She sketched him with her eyes, her heart breaking as she realized that he might never remember anything that had happened between them. Amnesia was unpredictable. “We were only acquaintances,” she lied. “Nothing more.”
“I know that,” he said irritably. “You’re not my type of woman at all. You’re not glamorous or particularly pretty, you obviously buy your clothes off the rack, your body is too thin, you don’t even wear clothes well. I could never have been involved with you,” he agreed angrily. “But it was more than a nodding acquaintance. Were you connected with the casino somehow?”
Her heart felt as if he’d stepped on it. He couldn’t make it plainer that he had no romantic interest in her. He was certain he couldn’t have cared for her.
She lowered her eyes to the orchids nearby. “No,” she said. “I don’t gamble.”
He sighed angrily. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” she exclaimed, looking up.
“You look at me as if I’m killing you,” he bit off.
She forced a laugh. “How silly. I’m having a nice time looking at the orchids. What sort is this?” she added, pointing to an ordinary purple and white phalaenopsis.
He hesitated, as if he wanted to press it, but he gave in and answered her question. Then he stepped close to show her the way the bracket of flowers grew and the tension exploded between them. He turned to her, a breath away, and saw every quick beat of her heart moving the fabric at her breasts. He felt an electricity that grew quickly explosive as he felt the heat from her body.
His jaw tautened almost to pain as his dark eyes met her green ones at point-blank range. His lips parted on a rush of breath. His big hand went to her cheek and his fingers drew down it involuntarily. Heat exploded in him.
Delia felt it, too, but she’d had enough. She moved away from him and back to the safety of Barney and Barb without a word.
Marcus stared after her, scowling, feeling as if he were on the brink of some incredible revelation. But it hung there, just out of reach, taunting him, tormenting him. She meant something to him in the past, he could taste it. What had she been, a minor amusement? Why was he attracted to such an ordinary, dull woman? It must be the concussion, he decided finally, still knocking him off balance.
For the rest of the visit, he ignored Delia, hating the sensations he’d felt with her. He showed his guests the new koi pond he was building of sandstone, a mammoth undertaking with plumbing for all the necessary filters and an expensive liner to boot. He wondered if he’d liked the colorful Japanese fish before? Until he lost his memory he’d apparently not had a yen for koi. The pond had a waterfall, also of sandstone. It was going to be beautiful, when it was finished.
He found time to get Barney alone, and they spoke about Deluca. Then, all too soon, they were ready to leave.
While Barney was getting Barb into the back of the cab, Marcus hesitated beside Delia. “You lost your child saving my life,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Tragedies happen to most people at one time or another,” she said, trying not to let it show that it was killing her to stand beside him like this and pretend they weren’t involved. She loved him!
He felt empty somehow, especially when he saw the tears she was trying valiantly to stem. “You really loved that baby, didn’t you?”
She nodded jerkily. She couldn’t speak.
“Why?” he ground out. “Why did you take the risk, to save me, a man you didn’t even know except as a chance acquaintance?”
She couldn’t look at him. “It was an impulse. I saw the gun in the man’s hand and I just reacted.”
“At what cost!” he said heavily.
She forced her eyes to lift. He looked tormented. She adored him. It was so strong a feeling that she couldn’t hide it, and he saw it in her face.
It was like peering into a dark room and seeing just a sliver of light. He wanted to force the memory, but he couldn’t. “Tell me,” he said under his breath.
She managed a sad smile. “Dragging up the past benefits no one. I’m glad you’re still alive, Mr. Carrera. The other…” She took a deep breath. “I believe in acts of God. It wasn’t meant to be, for whatever reason. I have to accept that and live with it.”
He searched her soft eyes and felt again that jolt of sensation. He frowned. “I don’t understand why it hurts me to look at you,” he said under his breath.
She averted her eyes and moved away. She couldn’t bear to talk about the past any more. He’d made it clear that she didn’t appeal to him in the least. He didn’t want her except physically; he probably never had. He was engaged, after all, to the sort of woman he’d told her he liked—beautiful, sophisticated and rich. “You’ve already made your feelings clear. After all, what would a rich, powerful man like you want with a dull, plain nobody of a woman like me? Goodbye, Mr. Carrera,” she said, and felt as if her heart was breaking right into. “I hope life treats you better than it’s treated me.”
As she went to get into the cab, Delia met Marcus’s eyes across the car and she winced at his closed, angry expression. She didn’t look at him again.
He stood and watched the car drive away. Her sarcasm had made him angry. But he felt as if he’d just cut off an arm, and he didn’t know why.
That night, while Barney and Barb went to a show downstairs in the lounge, Delia answered the phone and found herself talking to Fred Warner.
“Think you scored real good against me, didn’t you, honey, but the joke’s going to be on you. Why do you think a millionaire like Barney married a little schoolgirl from Texas when he could have had a debutante, ever think about that?”
“What?” she exclaimed, too shocked to fight.
“You idiot, he looks just like you, and you never noticed? Barney married Barb because she had his baby! He was married when she got pregnant, so your grandmother went away with Barb and told everybody it was her kid. Barb’s not your sister, you dope. She’s your mother!”
He hung up.
Delia was sitting on the sofa with her head spinning. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Barb was her mother. It had to be a lie. Surely it did!
But things kept going through her mind. Barney did look like her. They favored more than Delia and her late mother had. Barney had been affectionate toward her all her life. He loved her. Barb loved her. It was more than sibling love.
Why hadn’t Barb told her? Why had she let her grow into a woman believing that her grandmother was her mother? Why?
She sat and worried and seethed for the next hour and a half until Barney and Barb came back.
They came in the door laughing, having been dancing most of the time after the floor show ended. They were happy, upbeat, cheerful. Until they saw Delia’s rigid features.
“I had a phone call from Fred Warner,” Delia said coldly, staring at them.
Barb let out an unsteady breath. She put down her evening bag with careful deliberation.
“And…?” she said, trying to sound casual.
“He said that Barney was my father and you were my mother.” Her eyes pleaded with them to deny it.
Barney seemed to slump. He sat down on the sofa, leaning forward. “It was only a matter of time, I told you,” he said to Barb in a subdued tone. “I told you to tell her the truth!”
“Then…it’s true,” Delia choked.
Barb burst into tears and ran for the bedroom. She closed the door behind her.
Barney was left, staring at Delia, who looked as if the whole world had fallen on her.
“Why?” she asked harshly.
He spread his hands expressively. “I was married, baby,” he said heavily, “to a woman who would have done anything to hold on to all that nice money I had. She never loved me. She only wanted what I could give her. I met Barb while I was in San Antonio on a business deal.” He smiled reminiscently. “She was staying overnight with a girlfriend and she went to the same bar where I was. She was dressed real sexy and she was wearing some sophisticated makeup. I thought she was in her twenties.” He sighed. “One thing led to another. When I realized what a kid she was, and how innocent, it was already too late. She went home and never mentioned me to your mother, not even when she got pregnant. It was two years before I found out. By then I was divorced, and your grandmother had told everyone that you were her baby, to save Barb’s reputation. You were born seven months after your grandfather died, so they said you were premature.”
“All these years,” Delia said on a sob.
“I wanted to tell you a million times,” Barney said, in anguish. “But Barb couldn’t bear to have you know. You were brought up so carefully, sheltered so much, so that you wouldn’t make the same mistake Barb did.”
“But I did anyway,” she said flatly.
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “If we’d made you go home, maybe you’d never have had to find out. Damn Fred!”
She looked up at him. “It would have come out one day, Barney,” she said, feeling oddly sorry for him. He did look so devastated. Not unlike Barb…
“What will you say to Barb?” he asked gently.
Her face closed up. “I don’t want to see Barb again right now. I want to go home, Barney. In the past week, my whole life has fallen apart. I’m leaving tomorrow. First thing.”
“Okay,” he said after a minute. “If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want,” she said flatly. Then she hesitated. “What about Marcus?” she asked reluctantly. “Will they try again to kill him?”
Barney sighed. “I don’t know, baby, but I imagine they will. He’s got friends,” he reassured her. “Good friends. We’ll do everything we can to keep him safe. I promise.”
She swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
“Barb and I ruined your life,” he said. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
She looked up, her eyes wet with tears. He was her father, and she’d never known. She wished she’d never had to find it out like this. Life, she thought miserably as she went back to her own room, could be cruel.