They hadn’t had much of a father/son relationship, yet the man had been a towering presence. His father put on such a good face, all smiles and laughter—as long as no demands were placed on him. No wonder Clyde had never gone out of his way to make this business a success. He hadn’t wanted the commitment.
The last thought stopped him cold.
Had he picked up that very trait from his old man? Sure, thirty-two wasn’t old to be a bachelor. However, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he usually bailed from any relationship once it grew serious.
He tipped back his beer and stared through the window at the old truck Emily drove. The vehicle should have long ago been sent to the junkyard. No question it would die soon now that their father wasn’t around to milk more life out of it. They’d spent a lot of hours tinkering with that engine when Jacob had been a teen.
Those silent moments seeped into his brain—
A muffled noise jerked him back into the moment, the sound of a door opening outside, crashing against the wall.
Jacob vaulted to his feet and crossed to the wide window, peering farther down the parking lot. Holy crap. Dee bolted out to the walkway wearing just a robe and untied tennis shoes. Her wet hair rode the wind behind her as she raced toward the office.
What the hell was going on?
He threw open the door and caught her as she slipped on the steps. “Dee? What’s wrong?”
Had she suddenly remembered? She definitely looked stunned.
“Someone br-broke into my r-room.” Her teeth chattered, with cold or fear or both.
He could certainly understand because right now he felt chilled to the bone. “Are you okay?”
While hauling her into the office, he searched the parking lot for signs of an intruder. He saw plenty of tire ruts and recalled hearing minimal traffic while he’d sat in his truck, but nothing now.
And hell, he needed to get to Emily and the baby.
“I’m f-fine. Whoever it was left before I got out of the tub.”
“Good. Good.” He pointed to a connecting door. “Go through there, stay with Emily and call the police while I check outside.”
She gripped his arm. “Be careful. Please.”
“Of course,” he responded automatically, already focused on the parking lot and looking for whoever had dared threaten Dee.
Chapter 10
N o one was looking for her. Dee had to accept it.
She spread her arms to pull the towel taut before folding it. Grace silently folded a second pile while the dryer tumbled a fresh load in the motel laundry room.
Three days had passed since someone had broken in and written DEAD on her mirror. Not that Jacob had been able to find anyone. Not that the cops had uncovered anything further.
Other than noting the lipstick tube had been completely wiped clean of prints.
She’d told them the lipstick hadn’t been there before, but she could tell they thought she’d absentmindedly forgotten. She disagreed then and now. She might not know some things about herself, but she knew for darn sure she hadn’t left out a lipstick tube since she’d taken a careful inventory of her meager possessions after waking up with nothing but a hundred dollars and an EpiPen. She didn’t have a stitch of makeup to her name.
Dee reminded herself to be grateful for what she did have. People seemed to accept her in spite of the amnesia.
At least there were people here who cared enough to notice if she fell off the face of the earth again. Grace, Emily…and Jacob.
Dee clutched the towel to her belly in counterpressure against the ache that had only increased since their kiss in the truck. An ache she couldn’t fill. Soon, he would be returning to his Charleston base.
Since she’d landed in Rockfish, the police hadn’t unearthed so much as a nibble on her identity, much less help in finding a child she wasn’t sure she still had. Even a long-shot attempt at hypnosis had been a bust. She and Jacob had garnered more success unearthing memories through simple brainstorming conversations. At times, she felt a change in herself, as if her mind were pregnant with memories, ready to give birth to them. And then nothing…
Her few memories of her child were real, of that she had no doubt. As days passed, she had to explore the possibility that she’d given up her baby, or that, heaven forbid, it had died. Had she lost her child and a husband, and that was why she had no one left to notice her absence? Reluctantly, her mind traveled that painful path.
Perhaps in her grief she had lost herself in shallow encounters with men like Mr. Smith. Certainly such all-encompassing pain could make a person want to forget. The scenario, while excruciating, made sense.