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“I did.” She smiled. “It sounded like a good idea.”
“I’m sure it will be. No doubt Chuck will scour the land to find you the finest chocolate ice cream there is. Besides being out there, he’s also been known to go over the top.”
She smiled again and it did funny things to him. Made him feel guilty for lying to her. Which was ridiculous.
“You’ll take me to the doctor’s tomorrow, then?”
“I will.” Maybe. If there was time, after Chuck took her to Atlantic City. If she wasn’t in jail by then.
“I’m really hoping I’ll go to sleep tonight and tomorrow I’ll wake up and this will all be over. Like it will all come back to me in the night.”
“It might.”
He could see that she hoped he was right and another dagger shot to his heart. She seemed so damn sincere. Clear pale blue eyes on pale skin with pale hair. She could have been a damned fairy princess.
Instead she was D’Amato’s piece.
“Look, you’re probably exhausted.”
“I am. But Chuck went to get the ice cream....”
“My understanding is that it comes frozen and will last until tomorrow. Listen, why don’t you take my bedroom. I changed the sheets while you were in the shower. If you’re right and all you need is a good night’s sleep, you won’t get that on the couch. Too soft.”
“Oh, I couldn’t take your bed. The couch is fine.”
“No, this way is better. It will be quieter, too. You really need to rest.”
She looked at him, assessing him as she had at the hospital earlier that day. He could actually see her coming to a conclusion.
“Your friend was right. Your woman friend. You’re a good person, Greg.” She put her hand on his forearm and squeezed for a second. Then she got up and made her way back to his bedroom, softly closing the door behind her.
“No, Eliza,” he said quietly to an empty room. “I’m not.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“WAKE UP! PLEASE, GREG. Wake up!”
He was sprawled on a couch she could see was too small for him. He had one arm flung over his eyes and a blanket that covered him only from chest to thighs. His feet were naked and for some reason she found it disturbingly intimate.
He was twisting now, moaning, and the forces of sleep fought against her relentless attack.
“Please wake up.” She hated the desperation in her voice. Hated the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her, but she had to leave this place. She had to find out where she came from.
Finally he lowered his arm and blinked open his eyes. After taking a moment to understand that he was on the couch and a strange woman was standing over him shaking his arm, recognition dawned on his face.
Along with suspicion.
“What’s the matter?”
“We have to leave. You have to help me look for where I live. I think New Jersey makes more sense. The city doesn’t feel right. It’s too noisy. I think if I lived in Philadelphia I would be used to the noise but I’m not. Maybe closer to the shore. I know it sounds crazy, but I was lying in bed and I thought what if I have a dog. It will be hungry and trapped inside.”
Greg slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. “Hang on. What time is it?”
“Almost five in the morning. Please, I know it’s a lot to ask but I have to try.”
He rubbed his hands vigorously over his face and finally looked at her. Really looked at her.
“You want to drive around South Jersey looking for the place you live, without having any idea of where that actually is, because you think you might have a dog?”
“I don’t know if I have a dog.” She got up from where she’d been kneeling and began pacing in front of the couch. She pulled on her fingers and listened to her knuckles crack, then dropped her hands to her sides immediately, having a sense she wasn’t supposed to do that.
Young ladies don’t crack their knuckles.
Greg was right. Manners were important to her. Someone had given her a sense of what was proper and what wasn’t. She could feel it.
“If you don’t know, then why are you so upset?”
“Because what if I do? I might have left not knowing I was going to be away a whole day. It could be hungry or thirsty. Trapped in a house with no access to food or water.”
Greg blinked. “Let me get this straight. You’re worried you might have a dog but not worried you might have a husband who doesn’t know where you are?”
“A husband can feed himself and pour his own drink. He might be scared, but he won’t be helpless or vulnerable.”
“What about a kid?”
“I wouldn’t have left a child alone. Someone would be watching it.”
He nodded. “Then I take it you’re not a cat person.”
“I love all animals!” That felt right. It wasn’t a memory but it was a sense she had. Of who she was. She would take that as a sign that she was getting better but it wasn’t fast enough. “Cats are more independent. A dog needs to be walked and fed every day. Please. I know it sounds crazy. If we drive around I’m sure it will come back to me. I know I’ll remember.”
He reached out while she was pacing and grabbed her wrist. With a yank he pulled her down onto the couch next to him. It was warm where he had stretched over it and she felt the side of his body pressed against her arm. She shivered.
“Listen to me, you’re panicking again.”
She was. She could feel it coming on. Her heart started to race and her lungs tightened. Deep breaths, deep breaths. “I feel out of control.”
“That’s perfectly natural. In this situation you are out of control.”
She shook her head. “I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling this way.”
“Who does?”
She looked at him then and there was a calmness about him. She sensed that he’d seen people in her state before and it didn’t rattle him.
“Keep breathing,” he ordered. “Tell me quick, gut reaction. You like big dogs or small dogs?”
“Big dogs. They make me feel safe.”
He nodded. “Okay, if you have a dog, especially a big one, that would mean you probably live in a house. Someplace with a backyard so he could run around.”
“I hope so. Big dogs need space.” She clutched her chest as she was gripped by an overwhelming feeling of sadness. She wanted to cry but she had no reason for it.
“Well, if you live in a house, then I bet you have neighbors. And if you live in a neighborhood, I’m guessing you know everyone on the street because you would be out walking the dog. A neighbor who knows you and your dog might see that you didn’t come home last night and might hear your dog barking. Maybe this neighbor would have a spare key. To collect your mail when you go on vacation, or let the dog out when you’re not there. I’m sure if there is a dog, everything will be fine.”
Her breathing calmed as he spoke and when she looked at him, she could at least believe he was being sincere and not patronizing.
“I woke up and realized I still didn’t have my memory and I flipped out a little. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“You should be sorry. I am not a morning person.”
She smiled. “You were a little hard to wake up.”
He smiled back. “Just be grateful you weren’t trying to wake Chuck. He’s worse than I am and he flails.”
“I thought I would be better.” Her voice cracked and she hated how completely broken she sounded.
He bumped her shoulder with his. “Can I make an observation?”
“You’re asking me? If I recall last night, and I do at least remember that, you’ve already made several.”
“Did it upset you?”
She shook her head. “I was ready to cling to anything you told me. Hoping it might trigger something. You can’t know how this feels. It’s like an emptiness. I want to say I’ve never felt anything like it before but...”
“But what?”
“I feel lost,” she said, dropping her head. Shame, deep shame, replaced the sadness she’d previously been feeling. “I feel like it’s not the first time, either. Like I’ve been here before. In this mental place. Only I don’t know when or why. I only know I hate it. What was your observation?”
“That. What you just did. Dropping your head, covering your face with your hair. You’re going through this major thing right now where you don’t know who or what you are. You should be angry this happened to you. You should be scared shitless. Instead I feel as if you’re...embarrassed.”
Embarrassment. Shame’s weaker twin. He was right. She needed to get over these feelings and start thinking about a plan of action. “I’m sorry I woke you. I should let you get back to sleep.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen now. How about I make us some coffee?”
“Okay. I don’t think I could sleep now, either. How soon do you think we can call the doctor at Thomas Jefferson to see about scheduling an appointment? I’m hoping I can walk or take the Speedline to get there. Then I won’t have to be a burden on you.”
“You call it the Speedline,” Greg noted as he stood. “Not the subway. You’re definitely a Jersey girl.”
He snatched up his T-shirt which reminded her that he was half-naked. Half-naked with a lean sculpted chest, covered in the same dark hair that stuck out messily on his head. She looked away as he dressed and padded over to the kitchen on the bare feet that had startled her earlier. He scooped out some ground coffee and put it in a filter.
She wasn’t sure why but she considered his nonanswer somewhat ominous. “You don’t think I’ll be able to get an appointment today. Is that it? Are you worried I’ll be stuck here longer? You know I was thinking, if you could lend me some money... Ugh, this is so awful. I know you don’t know me, but I swear I would pay you back. Before I washed it I looked at the label on my dress and I looked it up online on your computer upstairs. It’s fairly pricey. You said yourself you think I come from a wealthy family. I promise I would repay you. I think five hundred dollars would be enough to last me a week. I would have to be back to normal by then.”
“It’s not that...”
“Two hundred. I don’t really need that much to eat. Then I wouldn’t be so dependent on you.” She laughed humorlessly at herself. No, she’d just be in debt to him. She might as well have offered him sex for money. At least then there would be something in it for him.
If he was even attracted to her. Why she was wondering about that was completely beyond her.
“It’s not the money and I’m not worried about you being here for a few more days. I didn’t answer your question about the doctor because I’m not sure what your schedule is going to be like today.”
She snorted. “My schedule? Unless you know something I don’t, I think my schedule is going to consist of sitting on this couch trying desperately to remember something.”
He folded his arms across his chest and she could see his expression was serious. “I’m afraid I do know something you don’t. The sheriff called last night. I didn’t want to upset you, but you’re going to need to talk to some detectives in the ACPD this morning.”
Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “Why?”
“I don’t want to alarm you...but there’s been a murder.”
* * *
“I DO KNOW SOMETHING you don’t.”
“I don’t want to alarm you.”
It had been seven hours since he’d said that to her. He’d only mentioned the murder. As if it was just an inconsequential detail.
“There’s been a murder. You need to go in for questioning. I shouldn’t have told you that much but...well, I guess I did.”
It was all he’d given her. Not the rest of it. Not the most important part. Not even her name.
He wouldn’t make the trip to Atlantic City. Which was fine with her. She didn’t need him anymore. Now that she knew who she was.
“Ms. Dunning? Do you understand what I’ve told you?”
She stared at the detective sitting across from her and nodded her head.
Her name was Eliza Dunning, but she went by Liza. She was an accountant. She was on the payroll of The Grande Casino. She was also known to be a close personal—there had been a subtle emphasis on that word—friend of Hector D’Amato’s.
Hector D’Amato was dead. Shot and killed with a bullet to his face.
Liza looked down at her lap. She’d had to turn in her dress to the police as evidence. Her attorney agreed. Liza confessed to washing it, wanting them to understand that it hadn’t been an intentional attempt to hide evidence. The ACPD already had the original piece the Brigantine sheriff had taken and they didn’t seem concerned with the compromised evidence.
Now she was in a pair of too-big sweatpants and an Atlantic City P.D. T-shirt but she felt more comfortable in this than she would have if she’d still been wearing Greg’s clothes. At least the sweats and T-shirt were honest.
Liza turned to her attorney who was sitting calmly next to her at the table. Chuck had introduced her to Elaine Saunders and told her she’d be representing her during the questioning. They had picked her up at her office on the way to Atlantic City. Elaine worked on the other side of the Ben Franklin Bridge in New Jersey.
Just her and Chuck and Elaine. Because Greg apparently didn’t go to Atlantic City. Ever.
She’d listened with half an ear during the drive down while Elaine—a short woman dressed in a severe, professional suit, with an odd pairing of shoes—traded barbs with Chuck the whole way.
Elaine criticized Chuck’s clothing, his driving, his goatee. Liza might have felt sorry for him if Chuck hadn’t fired back regarding Elaine’s makeup, hair and clunky silver loafers.
Then Elaine had dismissed him altogether and called Greg. She’d listened intently to what he was saying on the other end before ending the call with a “Got it. I’ll call you after we finish.”
At the time Liza had thought how thoughtful it was that Greg had arranged a lawyer for her.
He lied to you. He knew who you were last night and didn’t tell you. Why?
