A Baby Between Them. Alice Sharpe

Three

      “So you agree she shouldn’t be told she’s pregnant?”

      On the other end of the line, his cousin Virginia, a practicing psychologist in Chicago, paused for a second before saying, “Without knowing the specifics of her case, I don’t know what to think. In associational therapy, the patient is exposed to familiar surroundings in hopes it stimulates the brain’s neural synapses. Isolation from personal recollections seems counterintuitive, but if you know she’s pregnant and sense trouble in her marriage—”

      “If there is a marriage,” Simon interjected.

      “You said your partner on the force is checking into that, right?”

      “Not my partner, no. I can’t get Mike into a compromising position on the off chance Ella did something illegal before she left Blue Mountain.” Or since then, for that matter….

      “Then who did you call?”

      “A private investigator I worked with a few years back.”

      “You’re sure Ella isn’t faking amnesia?”

      “I’m positive. The only way the woman I know could react to things the way this woman does is if she wasn’t aware of herself or her past. She’s not faking.”

      “Okay. So, for now, all you know is she’s with a man who was able to convince the police and the hospital he’s her husband, which means he either planned her abduction very carefully or he is her husband—”

      “In which case there is no mystery, just me jumping to conclusions,” Simon finished for her. And yet her husband had told Ella they’d just moved to Blue Mountain, which was a lie. Ella had lived there for at least two or three years.

      Virginia cleared her throat. “Didn’t your mother tell me you and Ella were no longer a couple? In fact, you broke up with her just a week or so ago, didn’t you?”

      Simon stared out at the ocean and sighed. “Well, I guess you could say I broke up with her. She’d gotten even more secretive than usual and we had some words and I realized it was over.”

      “So maybe what you’re feeling is guilt mixed with anger,” she said softly.

      “Huh?”

      “Guilt for rejecting her. Then you find she has a husband all along and so really, she’s the one who rejected you. That’s why she wouldn’t talk about her past and why you felt shut out of her life. Hence the anger.”

      “My mother has a big mouth.”

      “She talks to my mom, you know how it is.”

      He glowered at the moon sparkling over the sea and didn’t respond. Spending the night staking out the parking lot wasn’t his idea of a good time, but he figured it would serve a couple of purposes, and face it, he was anxious to get this settled in his mind and go home.

      Home. “Ginny, do you think I should tell Ella who I am and ask her if she wants to come back with me? Give her a choice?”

      “No. I can’t advise distressing her when she’s so lost already. Don’t do anything to alarm her or frighten her. Listen, do you want me to call the admitting hospital and see if I can find out anything about her condition?”

      “Will they talk to you?”

      “I’ll give it a try. I might know someone here who knows someone there. Call me back tomorrow night about this time, okay? Her name is Eleanor Baxter, right?”

      “Yeah. Middle name Ann. Thanks, Ginny.”

      “Just be careful.”

      “Careful? Careful of what?”

      “Think about it, coz,” she said, and rang off.

      He pocketed his cell phone and tried to get comfortable. He was parked across the row and three cars down from the Baxter rental so he could easily keep an eye on it.

      And then he did his best not to think about Ella, but that was almost impossible.

      She was different and it wasn’t just the hair color. She was more open, as though not remembering her past had freed her from the burden of keeping it secret. She reminded him of the woman he’d fallen in love with, practically at first sight.

      He got the feeling she wasn’t too happy about her husband. For that matter, neither was Simon, who had seen the bastard hand Ella that glass of wine. Ella didn’t know she was pregnant, but according to the wrecker’s wife, Carl did, so what was he doing giving a pregnant woman alcohol?

      That was Simon’s baby she was carrying, and it pissed him off.

      At least he thought it was his baby.

      But she’d been hiding something for the past couple of weeks, something that had her edgy, nervous…

      He switched positions. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get Ella alone again. The tire trick had worked once; it wouldn’t work again without arousing suspicion. The fact that Carl had insisted they continue this vacation and stay in Rocky Point made Simon curious. What if Carl had abducted Ella from her house in Blue Mountain? What if the accident had been just that—an accident? Had Carl pushed for her release from the hospital so they could make it to Rocky Point for some unknown reason? Or what if they were in something together but Ella couldn’t remember they were partners? Would that explain her changed appearance?

      It all came down to her houselights blazing, the abandoned snow globe in the garage and his gut feeling.

      No answers right now, maybe tomorrow. He’d watch them come out to the car in the morning. See if Ella, once out of the hotel, appeared to be in distress. If she did, he would call in the cops.

      “Be careful,” Ginny had said.

      To hell with that. Carl Baxter was the one who better be careful.

      Using his pocket flashlight, he opened the paperback he’d bought in the hotel gift shop and prepared for a long night.

      “LET’S STOP HERE for breakfast,” Carl said as he pulled into the deep unpaved parking lot belonging to a restaurant perched high above the ocean. A fog bank hovered out at sea, though the day had dawned clear but breezy. The few trees managing to cling to the bluff were shaped by the predominant winds.

      “I’ll stay here, you go eat,” Eleanor said. “My stomach feels terrible. It must be that pill I take at night, the one for my head. I wake up every morning with a stomachache.”

      “Then skip the pill tonight,” he said, reaching over to unbuckle her seat belt.

      “Carl, I can’t eat.”

      He looked at his watch, then at her. There was something different about him today, a tightening around his mouth and eyes. “How selfish can you get?” he snarled. “Do you think just because you can’t eat, I should starve?”

      Startled, she drew away from him. “You could have ordered from room service.”

      “I’m tired of room service. Come on, get out of the car, keep me company. We’ll get you some toast.”

      She got out of the car, unsure why she allowed him to bully her. Was this what she was always like, or was this apathy because of her injuries? She hoped and prayed it was the latter, because the woman she was right now was a tiresome bore who had come to life only once since awakening and that was when she spoke with a stranger about his lost love.

      How pathetic was that?

      A bell tinkled as they opened the door. The restaurant was bigger inside than it had looked from the outside. Tables ringed the perimeter, which was fronted with glass and a panoramic view of the sea beyond.

      Waitresses scurried with giant platters perched on their shoulders; others poured endless cups of coffee. A hostess led them to a table near the windows. Eleanor took a chair facing the door as the waitress handed them menus.