The Mysterious Stranger (Triple Trouble) (3 page)

BOOK: The Mysterious Stranger (Triple Trouble)
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She stared at John. “I don’t know my name.”

Chapter Two

J
arrett sat behind his desk and squeezed his Mont Blanc pen. He waited until his friend had poured himself a glass of Scotch from the decanter on the shelf on the far wall. When John had taken a swallow and crossed to the window he spoke.

“What’s the prognosis?”

John shrugged. “I did as thorough an examination as I could. Good vital signs, no evidence of internal injuries. There are some bruises from her run-in with the cliff and she’s not going to feel a hundred percent for a day or so, but aside from that, she’s in great shape.” He stared expectantly, as if waiting for Jarrett to comment on the double meaning in the last comment.

Jarrett ignored him. Yes, he’d noticed the mystery woman had a nice body. So what? Thousands, hundreds of thousands of women had nice bodies. That didn’t mean he was interested in any of them.

“She needs rest,” John continued when Jarrett was silent. “I’m sure you want her gone as quickly as possibly, but resist the urge to throw her out until tomorrow.”

“I’m not completely inhuman,” Jarrett said frostily.

“Nice to know. Sometimes I wonder.”

Jarrett ignored that comment, too. “Is she faking?”

“The amnesia?” John shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. Head injuries are tricky. We understand so little of the brain and how it heals. Often this kind of amnesia is bought on by a traumatic incident. It’s usually temporary and disappears on its own. On the other hand—”

“Of course she’s faking,” Jarrett interrupted. “And she conveniently lost her identification or left it behind.”

“That would be your professional opinion?”

“I know women.” Jarrett stared out the window, forcing himself to see the blue sky and glittering water beyond. While he didn’t appreciate the view as much as he should, at least he could focus on it instead of the past. Anything was better than remembering.

John took another swallow of Scotch, then sat in the chair in front of Jarrett’s desk. “If you know she’s faking, why bother with me?”

“I’ve been down this road before. I won’t be played for a fool.”

“Ah, I understand.” John smoothed a hand over his thinning hair. “I wasn’t aware you were being stalked by a series of women who had lost their memories. Under the circumstances, then, you would definitely have more insight into this problem than I do. I bow to your superior knowledge and experience.”

Jarrett narrowed his gaze. “You’re not the least bit amusing.”

John grinned. “Hey, I think I’m funny and, in the end, isn’t that what matters?”

Jarrett kept his expression cold.

John sighed. “All right. We’ll do it your way, but I think you’re taking this too much to heart. It is possible that the mystery lady is just that, a mystery. Not a stalker or a woman out to trick you into a relationship.”

“I can’t afford not to be careful.” He stared at the man who, despite Jarrett’s natural inclination to hold the world at bay, had become a friend. “You know some of what happened in my past, John, but you don’t know everything that happened. I have to assume the worst. Especially now that Anna Jane is with me. Her safety is my responsibility.”

“Do you want her to come stay with me tonight?” he asked.

Jarrett raised his eyebrows. “She’s only nine, John. You can’t leave her alone.”

“I know that.” John sounded hurt. “I’m a doctor. I wouldn’t mind staying in for the evening. I could use the rest.”

“With your schedule, I’m not surprised.”

John’s exploits were legendary. His beachfront home had played host to a legion of lovely ladies. Most were resort guests who stayed with him for the length of their vacation. Some were hotel staffers. He never claimed to want more than a passing affair, and the women seemed pleased to comply.

“Anna Jane will be safe enough here,” Jarrett continued. “You said the woman can be moved in the morning.”

“All she needs is a good night’s sleep. Besides, you can use the time to figure out if she’s faking or not,” the doctor said. “If she is, as you said, playing you for a fool, you should be able to trip her up. If she’s the genuine article, then you’ve simply spent a few hours in the company of a lovely lady. There are worse fates.”

Jarrett ignored John’s last comment. He didn’t share his friend’s desire for constant female companionship. “If the amnesia is real, what will happen?”

“I’m not sure. Her memory could return in pieces or it could all come back at once. She’ll probably remember odd bits of information while forgetting seemingly simple things. The brain is a complex organ.” John finished his Scotch. “In the meantime, what are you going to do with her?”

“She’s not my responsibility. In the morning Frank will drive her back to the resort. My housekeeper’s theories aside, I doubt she came from one of the neighboring islands. I’m sure she has a few friends who are expecting her back tonight. I’ll return her to them.”

John rosé to his feet. “It’s your call. But I can’t believe you’re not the least bit curious about her.”

“Why would I be?”

“A beautiful woman washes up on your private beach. She doesn’t know who she is or where she’s from. Think of the mystery, the fantasy, the possibilities.”

Jarrett grimaced. “The lawsuit.”

“You have no romance in your soul.”

True. He didn’t have a soul at all. At least, not one he’d felt recently. He’d turned off all his emotions a long time ago. Life was easier once he’d learned not to feel. He depended on logic and action. They were enough.

John walked to the door. “Call me if anything changes, but she should be fine. Don’t forget to feed her dinner. You could even invite her to share the meal with you.”

“Goodbye, John.”

John winked. “Lucky SOB. Why doesn’t stuff like this happen to me?” He waved and left.

Jarrett stared after him. If John knew the truth, he wouldn’t want Jarrett’s life or his past.

* * *

Anna Jane paused outside her uncle’s study. The big door stood open. She didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t want to tell her uncle the truth and have him be mad at her. Maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe Leona wouldn’t say anything and she could just—

Nana B. had taught her to be honest. Her nanny often explained that honesty wasn’t just about telling the truth. It was also about living a life without deceit and manipulation, although Anna Jane still wasn’t sure what manipulation was.

She swallowed hard once, then tapped softly on the open door. Her uncle looked up and saw her. For a moment, his hard expression softened as he beckoned her inside.

“I would have thought you would be with our mystery guest,” he said lightly.

“She’s sleeping. Dr. John says she’s going to be all right. Is that true?”

Her uncle nodded. “She’ll be fine. I’m sure she has friends waiting for her at the resort. As soon as they get in touch with the hotel manager, he’ll tell them she’s okay. They can come and get her in the morning.”

Anna Jane reached into her shorts pocket and pulled out a damp piece of paper. After smoothing it flat, she passed it to her uncle.

“She did get my note. That’s why she tried to find me. It’s my fault she almost d-drowned.”

Her uncle scanned the note, then turned it over and looked at the map. “You put this in a bottle?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He frowned. “The tide would have carried it north, not south,” he said, almost to himself. “Where did you drop it in the water?”

“I know I’m not allowed down to the beach by myself. I didn’t go there. I put the bottle in the pond by the house. The stream carried it away.”

“That makes sense. That’s an inland waterway. Your bottle never made it to the ocean. So our mystery guest could only have come from the resort.” He gave her a smile. “Thanks for telling me. This will make her identity easier to discover.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“The woman isn’t really hurt, Anna Jane. None of this is your fault,” he said.

She nodded, hoping he would motion her closer and hug her. But he didn’t. He seemed to be waiting to see if she had more to discuss.

“Can she come downstairs for dinner?” she asked.

The faint tightening of his features told her Uncle Jarrett wasn’t pleased with her request, but he didn’t refuse her. “If she feels up to it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and told herself she should leave. But there was something else she had to know. “Why don’t you like her?”

His dark gaze captured hers. She bit down hard on her lower lip and braced herself for an explosion. But her uncle was silent as he studied her face. She wondered what he saw there. Nana B. used to say she looked a lot like her mother. Anna Jane knew that wasn’t true. Her mother had been beautiful, like people on television.

“I don’t dislike her,” Uncle Jarrett said at last. “I don’t know her. I’m a little concerned about her showing up the way she did. Now that I know she actually read your note…” His voice trailed off. “Don’t worry, Anna Jane. Everything is going to be fine.”

Perhaps, she thought. If anyone had the power to make something all right, it was her uncle. After all, he ran an empire.

She escaped the office and raced upstairs. She made it nearly to the top before feeling the hot breath of the creatures who lived below. With a burst of speed, she jumped to the second floor. She was safe on the landing. At least for now.

Maybe it was his work that made Uncle Jarrett angry all the time, she thought. Nana B. had explained that being a grown-up was difficult at times. Uncle Jarrett had lots of responsibility. And now he had her. She was a big responsibility. She’d heard her mother telling someone that once when she’d been on the phone.

“I don’t mean to be,” Anna Jane whispered as she made her way to her room.

She was halfway down the hall when she noticed that the guest-room door stood open. Her steps slowed. What was the woman like? How had she come to be washed up on the beach? Did she really not remember who she was?

Anna Jane crept to the open door and peered inside the room. The strange woman sat in front of the dresser, staring at herself in the mirror. She wore a thick white terry-cloth robe. Her hair was loose, and the soft-looking gold-blond strands tumbled over her shoulders.

Anna Jane fingered her own dark hair. She wondered what it was like to have hair the color of gold. Did it feel different?

“Are you spying or waiting for an invitation?” the woman asked.

Anna Jane jumped slightly, then entered the room. “Both,” she admitted.

The woman turned to face her and smiled. “You’re welcome to keep me company.”

She had wide green eyes and a nice mouth. Anna Jane would bet that when the bruises were gone, the woman would be very pretty. Right now, though, it was hard to tell. She had a gash across the pale skin on her forehead. Bruises darkened the left side of her face.

“Who are you?” the woman asked.

“Anna Jane Quinlin.”

“You live here on the island?” She frowned. “This is an island, isn’t it?”

Anna Jane nodded. “My uncle owns it.”

“Are you here on vacation?”

“No. My mother died and I had to come live here.”

The woman’s face softened with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. You must miss her.”

“Yes. Of course,” Anna Jane said automatically, tucking her right hand behind her back and crossing her fingers so the lie wouldn’t count. It wasn’t that she didn’t miss her mother. She did. Sort of. The way she missed her favorite teacher or the housekeeper. But she didn’t miss her mother the way this nice lady thought. She didn’t cry for her at night. Those tears were reserved for Nana B. Anna Jane knew it was a sin to love Nana B. more than her own mother, but she couldn’t change how she felt. She prayed for God to understand.

She tried to think of something to say to change the subject. Her gaze fell on the pile of clothes on the bed. “What are those?”

The woman sighed. “Your housekeeper brought them to me. I was only wearing a bathing suit and a pair of shorts, so I need something to wear. I’m just not sure what I like. Or what I used to like. It’s very confusing.”

Anna Jane walked over to the bed and fingered the top garment. There were shorts, T-shirts, sundresses, bathing suits, nightgowns. She picked up a white filmy nightie. “You wear this to bed,” she said.

The woman smiled. “I remember that.” She stood and approached the bed. A bright floral-print sundress lay to one side. “I was going to pick this one. What do you think?”

Anna Jane tilted her head to one side and studied her. “It’s nice. You can wear your hair up on your head with some curls loose around your ears.” She pointed to a big red-and-purple flower right in front. “That one matches your bruises.”

She’d spoken without thinking, and instantly covered her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

The woman laughed. “Don’t be. You’re exactly right.” She cleared her throat. “Bruise wear,” she said in a low voice, as if a commentator on television. “What all the models are sporting this summer in the tropics. Fall down and be fashionable.”

Anna Jane giggled.

The woman plopped down on the bed and pulled Anna Jane down next to her. “You don’t laugh enough,” she said, putting her arm around her. “I can tell.”

“Really?” Anna Jane asked, and leaned close. The embrace made her feel warm inside. “How can you know something like that?”

The woman’s humor faded. “I don’t know.” She scrunched her eyes closed. “Isn’t that strange. I can remember some things and I know you’re not laughing very much these days, but I don’t remember my own name.”

“What’s that like?”

“Scary,” the woman said, looking at her. “I don’t know who I am. I could be anyone.”

“A princess?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice. I’d like to be a princess with a beautiful castle.”

“And a handsome prince.”

The woman paused. “I’m not sure a handsome prince is always a good idea.” She whispered in Anna Jane’s ear. “Sometimes, when you’re not looking, they can turn back into ugly toads.”

Anna Jane laughed and the woman joined in.

“What’s so funny?” a male voice asked.

Anna Jane looked up. “Uncle Jarrett! What are you doing up here?”

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