FORGOTTEN VOWS Page 6

  "Her fees are pretty hefty, Ash. And she's getting quite a reputation in corporate boardrooms. I've heard she works pro bono for small, struggling firms who can't afford—"

  "Have you got anything legitimate for me, Rad, or just fairy tales?"

  Radley made an aggravated noise into the phone. "Skeptic. Okay, she doesn't have a police record. Not so much as a traffic ticket. She holds a valid handgun permit, and the records list a nine-millimeter Ruger as her only weapon."

  "Anything else?"

  "What do you want, a biography? Nothing you don't already know. One sister, Caroline Dryer, married to Theodore 'Ted' Dryer, formerly of Clark County, Nevada. Two nieces, aged six and sev—"

  "Clark County, Nevada?" Ash jumped to his feet. Vegas was in Clark County.

  "I already checked, Ash. Dryer's lived in New York State for eleven years."

  "That doesn't mean he hasn't gone back to visit...maybe six years ago, the summer the Slasher did his hunting in Vegas."

  "Maybe."

  Ash swallowed. He hadn't wanted to believe Joey was involved in this ugliness. But maybe she was. Maybe she was protecting her brother-in-law. Or even her sister. Picturing Caroline as a murderess was harder than envisioning Joey in the role. He shook his head. Anything was possible.

  "Thanks for the help, Rad."

  "You lied to the police, didn't you?"

  Ash frowned at the phone. "I thought you didn't want to know."

  "You could get your ass tossed in jail. Especially if you're withholding evidence."

  "I know that."

  He could almost see his friend's frown over the phone. Rad said nothing more, just broke the connection. Ash sighed and put the receiver back in its cradle. He went to the door, opened it and listened for a minute. Not a sound.

  He slipped down the stairs and glanced around. She was sitting on the couch, legs curled under her. Her face registered extreme agitation as her eyes scanned the pages of a fat book. A thick, wavy lock of silky hair fell down over one eye, and she shoved it back with a sweep of her small hand. Her brows bunched tighter, her green gaze was intense. He glanced at the title and almost swore out loud. Inside the Mind of a Serial Killer.

  Dammit straight to hell. He shook his head in frustration and backed up the stairs. Psychic. Hell, she was no more a psychic than she was a killer. But it was becoming increasingly evident that she was obsessed with the Slasher. Why? Did she know anything, or was it just morbid curiosity? He wondered if he'd ever figure her out

  Well, at least she was occupied for a time. He went to her dresser, pulled open the bottom drawer and pawed through it, then opened another.

  The phone rang, and he stiffened. Then he relaxed when it didn't sound again, and she didn't call to him. Must have been for her. Good, she was still distracted.

  His headache eased slightly, probably due to the Ibuprofen she'd insisted he take, and the hot, herbal tea she'd made him drink afterward.

  His hand dipped into the top drawer, and his gaze was drawn downward. He was wrist deep in sheer, silken underthings. He couldn't move for a minute. When he could, he found himself pulling a nearly transparent, lace-edged, ruby red teddy from the drawer. He held it up, eyeing the high cut of the leg openings, the sheer lace that bisected the bodice. He could picture her in it Her little body would be perfect for such a creation—that tiny waist, curving hips. Those breasts. God, he wanted to touch them.

  He blinked fast and shoved the garment back into the drawer. What was he, some kind of a pervert? Had it gotten so bad that he now had to resort to pawing her underwear? He looked again at the mounds of lace and silk and satin in the drawer, and an ugly, unfamiliar feeling crept into his mind as he wondered when she wore them, and for whom. From the wide selection under his hand, she must find need for these kinds of garments often. Too often.

  Disappointment and irrational anger flooded him, along with burning, red-hazed memories.

  She'd called herself Lila, and her brassy red hair came from a bottle. She'd look so beautiful those nights, just before she'd lock him in. But it was fake, like a Halloween costume. He would sit in the corner, in the tiny, pitch-black closet. He would hear the sounds she made. Sounds that made him think someone was hurting her. And he wouldd wonder if they might kill her and maybe she'd never come to let him out. Sometimes she didn't, not until very late the next day. Those were the times when she'd been too drunk to think of him sooner. Those were the times when he'd see the ugliness behind the mask.

  Her name wasn't Lila, it was Liz. And she wasn't pretty. Not with her watercolor hair in matted straggles and black mascara smeared under her eyes and the stench of regurgitated liquor on her breath.

  When the closet door opened on those mornings, he didn't want to look at her. And he couldn't anyway, because he'd be in a hurry to run to the bathroom. And always, on the way, he would pass the empty bottles and unwashed glasses, the overflowing ashtrays, the rumpled bed, and always, always, there would be a sheer, silky nightgown lying on the floor.

  His first assumption had probably been right, after all.

  Joey Bradshaw must be a pro. No woman would buy so many of these things unless...

  He looked down at the tag dangling from one thin strap that hung out of the drawer.

  Unable to resist, he picked it up again, frowning. Then his gaze moved over the other items in the drawer, spotting more tags, and still more.

  "Ashville, what do you think you're doing!"

  He spun fast, still clutching the teddy. Joey stood in the doorway, her face as red as the satin that caressed his fingertips. "I, uh, I was just...looking for a place to put my clothes." He stuffed the teddy into the drawer and slammed it. "Sorry."

  Her expression didn't ease. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. Her eyes glittered with anger at his invasion of her privacy. "Did you ever think to ask?"

  He just looked at her and shook his head. How could she look so innocent? Was he a complete idiot?

  "I'll make some room for you. In the meantime, you really ought to be lying down." She still didn't meet his gaze. She lifted a hand that held a pair of tightly rolled dampened cloths. "I brought a hot pack for your head. Thought it might help."

  He complied and went back to the bed. She perched on its edge, leaned forward and gently laid one of the moist, hot cloths on his forehead.

  The swell of her full breasts, the crease between them, was so close to his face he could feel the heat rising from her skin to his. He could smell the scent of her. A rash of desire seared him from within, and he knew he still wanted her. Good or bad, chaste or promiscuous, he wanted her, and it was infuriating to admit that, even to himself. He puckered his lips and blew gently, warm breath bathing her breasts.

  She straightened at once, eyes widening.

  "When are you going to be willing to sleep with me, Joey?" He'd asked the question before he could tell himself not to.

  She blinked fast, avoiding his eyes. "When you get your memory back."

  "What if I told you I was getting it back already? What if I said I remembered every minute of our...wedding night?"

  She swallowed hard. "I'd say you were lying."

  He nodded. "Can't blame a guy for trying." He looked toward the dresser. The strap of the teddy still hung out of the drawer. A confused jumble of anger, disappointment and desire pummeled him. He tried to ignore it and licked his lips. "What if I never remember?"

  She shook her head. "You will. I'm going to help you."

  "I think seeing you in that red number would help me a whole lot, Joey."

  "I really wish you wouldn't talk to me like that."

  He smiled slowly. "Makes you hot?"

  "Makes me angry. You're obnoxious as hell, you know that?" She glanced down at the second hot cloth in her hand and slapped it onto his chest. "Here. This one's for the back of your neck. You can do it yourself."

  She stood and turned to go. Driven by his own demons, Ash lunged from the bed. "You've never worn them, have you? No
ne of them."

  Her back stiffened. She said nothing.

  He grabbed her arm, turned her slowly to face him. He forced himself not to hold her too tightly, or to jerk her around in his anger. It made no sense to feel this angry. "Answer me, Joey. You've never worn them, have you?"

  "No. I've never worn them. Why is it so damned important, anyway? What do you think, that I put them on and parade through the streets? Jump out of cakes? What?"

  Why this feeling of relief? She could be lying through her teeth for all he knew. God knew it wouldn't be the first time. And why the hell did he care what she wore, or for whom?

  He released his breath and sat down on the bed. He lowered his head, and for the first time he really wondered why she would buy the things and not wear them.

  "So you're stocking up on silk and satin, huh, Joey? Got some big plans in the making? Expecting a prince on a white horse to come along?"

  She stood perfectly still, her eyes searching his, hurt, but more than that. Searching. Trying to see what drove him. "Princes turn into frogs, Ash. Happens every time. I almost forgot that for a little while today. Thanks for reminding me.

  He heard the real confusion, the pain in her voice and wished he could take back his words. Dammit, the idea of her wearing those things for someone else had filled him with rage. The thought that she could be anything like his mother. He'd just wanted her to deny it.

  "No danger of that with you, though, is there? You were a frog to begin with." She turned away, reached for the door handle. "By the way, we're having dinner with my sister and Ted tonight. I hope you'll try and fake a few princely qualities while we're there."

  Chapter Five

  Dinner.

  Pot roast with baby potatoes and tiny carrots and whole onions cooked right with the meat. Thick, creamy gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet peas, homemade rolls, real butter.

  Damn, it was too bad Caroline was already taken. She was the type of woman he'd been looking for. The kind who'd have babies and not go all to pieces because she'd put on a few pounds. The kind who would adore her life, not go looking for excitement elsewhere.

  But there was something wrong with the picture. Because no matter how hard he tried to make Caroline's image fit the one in his mind, just to remind himself of what he wanted—what he'd always wanted—he found himself looking toward Joey, instead.

  All right, he might as well cut to the heart of the matter. He wanted Joey...in a purely physical way. But lust wasn't everything. Just because it had hit him between the eyes like it had never hit him before didn't mean he had to rethink his priorities. And to be perfectly frank about it, he probably wouldn't want her so badly if she wasn't holding out on him so well.

  "I had no idea you two even knew each other, and then you stand there and tell me you're married," Caroline was saying.

  Ted's laugh was low and contained. "I wish I could have seen the look on your face."

  Ash frowned. He couldn't remember the look on Caroline's face. Only the devastation and panic on Joey's. "I'd have married her sooner if I'd known your dinners were a fringe benefit, Caroline." He made an effort to keep up the conversation, to appear the polite, friendly new brother-in-law trying to get to know his wife's family.

  "What blows me away," Ted went on, "is that you two were able to put it together at all, after the accident and everything." His brown hair was sprinkled with gray, and his face was too lean. like a weasel's face.

  "Ted, maybe Ash would rather not talk about that," Caro put in.

  "No, it's okay." Ash reached out and grabbed the glass of milk Bethany had just set on the table's edge. He snatched it just before it tipped into her lap, sent her a wink and kept on talking. "Truth is, I don't remember a thing about Joey and me. It's like that day she showed up at the hospital was the first time I'd ever met her."

  Ted's gaze narrowed, and he sent Joey a probing glance. She ignored it

  "Where did you meet, Joey?" Caro asked her sister.

  Ash speared a succulent piece of meat and relaxed in his seat to listen to her answer. Ought to be entertaining.

  "I'll bet it was something to do with that Slasher case, wasn't it?"

  Ash frowned, brain instantly going on alert. He swallowed his food and sat straighter. "Why would you think that, Ted?"

  Ted shrugged. "Well, you were investigating it. She's been obsessed with it since the first—"

  "Ted, I haven't been obsessed. You're exaggerating."

  "Interested is probably a better term," Caro put in quickly, as if she was jumping to her sister's defense. "But no more than most of the people who live around here."

  Ted frowned hard at his wife, and she sent him a silent message, a powerful one. A puzzled expression settled over his face, but he shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

  "I certainly understand her interest in the murders better now. She was seeing you, Ash, and you were investigating them. It's only natural she'd want to know all she could."

  Ash nodded, but kept glancing at Joey's face. She looked about as uncomfortable as if she were sitting on a pile of thumbtacks.

  "There was another one last night, you know," Ted put in, and when Ash glanced at him it was to see him watching Joey's face, as well.

  "Another what, Daddy?"

  "Another of the great ice-cream robberies," Ash said quickly, not missing a beat. "Three gallons of Heavenly Hash. Someone's going to have a whale of a belly ache this morning."

  Brittany giggled, and Caroline shot Ash a grateful glance. Ash felt something warm press against his calf and looked down. A black-and-white cat the size of a small cow looked back, purring loudly. "Well, now. Who's this?" Ash stroked the cat's head and fed it a bit of his meat

  "Felix," the girls chimed in unison.

  "He likes you, Uncle Ash."

  "I think he likes everybody who feeds him."

  The cat moved on to the next seat, panhandling for scraps, and Ted picked up the conversation. "Where did you two meet?"

  Joey shifted in her seat. "At the theater...the one at the Carousel Mall. We were both there to see the same movie and we ended up sitting together."

  It wasn't bad, as far as lies went. Wasn't good, either, but it wasn't bad.

  "And the next thing she knew, I'd spirited her off to Vegas and married her. Right, Joey?"

  She bit her lip, nodded and applied herself to her dinner.

  "You ever been there?" His question was directed to Ted. He disliked the man, though he couldn't quite pinpoint the reason. Maybe it was the depth of scrutiny with which Ted kept watching Joey. As if he knew something...or suspected something.

  "Used to live there," Ted said, glancing away from his sister-in-law for once.

  "You miss it much?"

  "Not really."

  "Oh, yes, you do, Ted." Caro smiled in Ash's direction. "You ought to hear him in the winter."

  "Well, who wouldn't miss the sun when there's three feet of snow outside the door?" Ted chuckled, but it had an uneasy sound to it. It seemed strained.

  Ash nodded, smiling. "You get back there often?"

  Ted stiffened, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth.

  It was Caro who piped in with the answer to Ash's question. "We used to spend vacations there, but it's really not much fun for little girls. They were toddlers last time, remember, Joey? It took all three of us just to keep up with them."

  Ash's stomach clenched. "Joey went with you on vacation?"

  Caro nodded. "To help with the girls. These days, we opt for places with theme parks nearby."

  Ash was itching to ask if that trip happened to occur during the summer of '06. But he couldn't just come right out with it. These people were not stupid. They'd know he suspected something, even if they might not know what

  "Time for dessert?" Bethany asked.

  "It's Aunt Joey's favorite," Brittany sang.

  "Caro, you didn't..."

  Caroline smiled at her sister. "Of course I did. And don't start going on about calories an
d fat content or I'll be insulted." As she spoke, Caro rose and began clearing away dishes. Joey got up to help, and Ash automatically stood, as well.

  Moments later, they sat with luscious cheesecake and wonderful coffee, groaning almost in unison that they couldn't hold another bite.

  "You play pool, Ash?"

  Ash almost answered yes, then caught himself. "Damned if I know." He tapped his head with a forefinger by way of explanation.

  Ted laughed. "I have a new table downstairs. What do you say we find out?"

  Ted Dryer was an electrician. TD Electric had its "headquarters" in the shoe box of a building he'd put up beside the house, complete with a professionally crafted sign and a "company" pickup truck with magnetized ads stuck to the doors. Ted walked Ash outside to show him around. The pickup was less than two years old, the building freshly painted. From all appearances, business was good. Ted unlocked the door to the shop and ushered Ash into the office portion. It was raw, consisting mostly of a desk and chair, a phone, a file cabinet and a little rack to hang keys on, tacked to the wall just inside the door. The pickup keys dangled there on a key ring that read, My Other Car's a Mercedes.

  Later, they knocked the balls around the green felt table, and Ted seemed friendly, but perhaps a bit too curious.

  "So tell me about Joey," he said at one point during the game. "I can't quite picture her settling down to be someone's little wife."

  "Me, neither." Ash met Ted's glance and they both laughed. "Hell, Ted, you can probably tell me more about her than I could tell you." He shrugged. "I must have known her so well once, but now..." He let his voice trail off, hoping Ted would take the bait

  "She's pretty up-front," Ted said. "I mean, she's not the kind with hidden agendas and plots. She's just about what she seems. Calls 'em like she sees 'em, says what she means...most of the time."

  "Most of the time?"

  Ted shrugged and bent over the table, drawing the cue stick back slowly, aiming its tip at the white ball. "We all have our hang-ups." He struck the cue ball. It struck two others, one of which rolled neatly into the corner pocket. Ted straightened and walked around the table, reaching for the chalk.