The Second Mrs. Adams

“I am not getting myself all upset,” he snarled, “hell, I’m already upset!” He strode to the triple window and looked out. “Look at the size of that city! Jo could be out there anywhere, alone and hurt and in God only knows what sort of trouble.”

“She’s not in trouble, and she didn’t disappear. She simply left you, David. I mean,” she added quickly, when he swung toward her, “that’s what you told me. You said she wrote a note.”

“Yeah, but what does that prove? She’d been ill. She’d been in an accident. She’d hurt her head…” His face, already pale beneath its usual tan, seemed to get even whiter. He kicked the chair out from behind his desk, sighed and sank down into it. “If only I knew she was OK.”

“She is.”

“You don’t know that.”

But I do, Morgana thought smugly, I surely do. Joanna Adams was as well as could be expected for a woman who moped around Morgana’s apartment all day, looking as if she’d lost her best friend.

It was definitely time to get her out from underfoot. Joanna thought so, too; Morgana had come home two days ago and found her unwelcome boarder with her suitcase packed. She was moving into a hotel, Joanna had said, and though Morgana’s first instinct had been to applaud, common sense had prevailed.

If Joanna were on her own, there was no telling what might happen. Suppose she changed her mind and decided to confront David? Or suppose she and David simply bumped into each other? Manhattan was a big island, jammed with millions of people and the odds on that happening were small but still…

Morgana’s brain had recoiled from the possibilities. She had to keep Joanna on ice just a little longer. So she’d thought fast and come up with a story about David cutting off Joanna’s credit cards and bank accounts.

“The bottom line,” she’d said with a gentle smile, “is that you’ll just have to stay here a little while longer, dear.”

What could Joanna have done but agree?

The only problem was that things weren’t going quite as Morgana had expected. She’d assumed David would be distraught, yes, but not…what was the word to describe his behaviour the last several days? Disturbed? Upset?

Frantic, was more like it. He’d gone half crazy when he learned his wife had left him, calling the police, hiring private detectives…

And brushing off all Morgana’s attempts to offer comfort.

She looked at him now, sitting behind his desk with his head buried in his hands. It was ridiculous, that he should mourn the loss of a girl as common as Joanna.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered.

David’s head came up. “What’s ridiculous?”

Morgana flushed. “That—that the police haven’t found her yet.”

David sighed wearily and scrubbed his hands over his face. He hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time since he’d come home to find Joanna gone and exhaustion was catching up with him.

“Jo left a note…it means she’s not technically a missing person. If it wasn’t for her having amnesia, they wouldn’t bother looking at all.”

“She doesn’t have amnesia, not anymore. She remembered everything.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that, Morgana?”

“Well…” She swallowed dryly as she searched for the right words. “Well, you said that was in the note. That she’d gotten her memory back.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean? What does she remember?” He put his hands flat on his desk and wearily shoved back his chair. “Corbett says memory sometimes returns in bits and pieces. For all I know, she doesn’t remember the things that matter.”

A look came over his face that made Morgana’s stomach curdle.

“Honestly, David,” she snapped, “one would think you’d remember the things that matter, too.”

The look he gave her all but stopped her breath.

“Maybe you’d like to explain that,” he said with sudden coldness.

Morgana hesitated. Well, why not? It might be time for a little straight talking, if she could do it with care.

“I mean,” she said, “that you seem to have forgotten that your marriage to Joanna was always doomed.”

“Doomed?” David rose to his feet. “What in hell gives you that idea?”

“David, don’t let your irritation out on me!”

“I just want a simple answer to a simple question, Morgana. Why would you think my marriage had been doomed?”

Morgana’s lips pursued. “Honestly, you act as if I weren’t privy to the divorce proceedings. And to the years that led up to them. I know, better than anyone, how badly things had gone for you and Joanna.”

David’s mouth thinned. “You weren’t privy to how much I loved her,” he said coldly. “As for the divorce proceedings… that was behind us.”

“After she’d lost her memory, of course, but—”

“Memory be damned!” He slammed his fist on the desk. Morgana jumped, and papers went flying in all directions. “I love her, do you understand? Even if she’d recovered her memory, there was no reason to think we couldn’t have worked things out. Corbett made me see that. I’d loved the woman Joanna had once been, I loved the woman she’d become… Hell, there had to have been a reason she’d changed during our marriage. And I came home that day, knowing it was time to tell her the truth and to tell her that, together, we could find the answers…”

He turned away sharply and his voice broke. Morgana hesitated. Then she went slowly to where he stood and put her hand on his back.

“David,” she said softly, “you’ve got to accept what’s happened.”

“I don’t know what’s happened, don’t you understand?”

“Joanna remembered. And when she did, she knew she wanted just what she’d wanted before the accident, to be free of you—”

She cried out as he swung around and grabbed hold of her wrist.

“How do you know that?”

Morgana stared at him. “Because…because that’s the way it was,” she stammered. “You told me—”

“Never.”

“You did! You said she wanted a divorce.”

“I said we’d agreed on a divorce.” David’s eyes were cold as the onyx clock on his desk as they searched Morgana’s face. “I never said Jo wanted to be free of me.”

“Well, I suppose I just assumed…” Morgana looked at his hand, coiled around hers. “David, you’re hurting me.”

“Hell,” he muttered. He let go of her wrist and drew a ragged breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s all right I understand.”

“If only I’d gotten home earlier.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself.”

“If only the maid or the housekeeper had been there.”

“David, please. Try and. relax.”

“Even Hollister was gone. He had to pick that damned afternoon to get the oil changed in that miserable car.”

“Oh, David, my heart breaks for you. If there were only something I could… What are you doing?”

David shrugged on his jacket. “I’m going home. It’s better than pacing a hole in the floor.”

“Oh, don’t! Let me make us some tea.”

“I need an hour’s sleep more than I need tea. You might as well take the rest of the day off, too.”

“But it’s only midafternoon. We can’t just abandon the office!”

He smiled. “Trust me, Morgana. We can.”

“But…”

It was useless to protest. He was gone.

Morgana walked around David’s desk and sat down in his chair. Her mouth twisted.

Damn Joanna! She might have been gone but she wasn’t forgotten. And she was an ever-present threat, so long as she remained in New York. She didn’t belong here. She never had. She wasn’t sophisticated enough, or clever enough, or beautiful enough. Not for the city and not for David.

Joanna belonged back in whatever hick town she’d come from.

Mo

rgana’s grimace became a smile. She shoved back the chair and marched to the door.

And the sooner, the better.

* * *

Morgana’s apartment held the deep silence of midafternoon.

“Joanna?” She slammed the door and tossed her purse and briefcase on a chair. “Joanna, where are you? We have to talk.”

Not that she’d give the little slut the chance to talk. She’d simply hand the girl a check, tell her to buy herself a one-way bus ticket, and that would be that.

Life would return to normal. To better than normal, because now David would need solace.

And Morgana would be there to offer it.

What was that?

Her heart began to hammer as soon as she saw the note propped against the toaster in the kitchen. The quiet and that folded piece of white paper filled her with foreboding.

She opened the note, smoothed it carefully with her fingers.

Dear Morgana,

You’ve been so kind but I can’t go on imposing. This morning, I remembered a small cache of money I’d tucked away. I’m going home to get it and then…