They’d gotten a later start than she’d hoped for. After retrieving her old laptop and purse from the attic where he’d stored it after her accident, Ryan had left for an hour to deal with a situation at work. Seeing her old things did nothing for Kate’s memory, but she hadn’t expected much. Still, it was weird to look at something that had once been hers. And to feel nothing.
Shaking off the melancholy that brought, she arranged for some time off from the journal at Ryan’s insistence. Tom’s secretary hadn’t sounded happy about passing on her request, but Kate wasn’t up for arguing with Ryan over this one. At least not until she found out who at the publishing house had been involved with her disappearance.
She checked addresses as Ryan drove along the waterfront. The car bounced over a speed bump along Harbor Drive, and she shifted in the leather seat. Ryan’s new Jag stuck out like a sore thumb down here, black and shiny, so unlike the rusted pickups and worn compacts parked in most driveways along this dilapidated stretch of road.
Glancing sideways at him in the fancy car, she was reminded of his success. There were moments she forgot he was practically a celebrity, forgot about his wealth and prestige. When they were alone together, he was just like any other guy. He didn’t live like a man who made millions, didn’t act like he could buy and sell you at the drop of a hat. But then there were moments she’d see a look in his eye or hear him on the phone with a business associate, and she’d remember how powerful he really was.
Which was the real Ryan Harrison? Cold and businesslike as he’d been when they’d first met, or warm and compassionate like he’d been with her the past few days?
She couldn’t deny the sexual charge she felt whenever he was close, or the unexplainable tug she felt towards him in her soul, but doubt lingered doubt over her judgment skills. Hadn’t she learned that the hard way with Jake?
Her conversation with Ryan the night before ran through her mind. He’d known Jake. They’d worked together. Regardless of what he’d told her, she had a sinking suspicion he wasn’t being totally honest.
“I think that’s it.” Ryan’s voice cut through her reverie.
“It’s a houseboat.”
Ryan pulled the car to the curb and shifted into park. “Looks like nobody’s home.”
“Just our luck,” she said with a frown.
He opened the car door. “Come on. Let’s go take a look.”
The dock rocked gently under her feet. Kate’s fingers dug into her palm as she walked, and she bit back the desire to run back to dry land.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked.
“I’m not wild about boats.”
“Since when?” He stepped around a bucket left on the dock.
“Since forever.”
“Never bothered you before. You used to spend hours on our boat.”
She stopped at the front door of the houseboat. “You have a boat?”
“Had. I sold it a few years back.”
Strange. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be on a seasickness machine. Just one more thing to prove she wasn’t the woman he remembered.
She lifted a hand and knocked. When no one answered, she knocked again.
Ryan turned and surveyed the area. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just checking something out.”
Fabulous. She hated being kept in the dark. Hated even more that she was standing on a boat, of all things. She looked over the side at the murky green water below and felt her stomach tumble. Why anyone would want to live on a boat was beyond her.
The front door popped open, and Ryan’s face appeared behind the screen.
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“Come on.” He drew her into the house. “Back door was unlocked.”
“Ryan, this is breaking and entering,” she said when the door closed behind her.
“You didn’t have a problem with it last night.”
“That was different. It was for a reason. This just feels like…like we’re invading someone’s privacy.”
He chuckled and walked through the small living area. “Don’t grow a conscience on me right now. Look around. See if anything stands out. I’ll check the upper level.”
He disappeared up the small flight of stairs. Frowning, Kate took in the orange-and-brown afghan tossed over the back of a worn leather Barcalounger with holes in the armrests. Gossip magazines lay scattered over a scarred, oak coffee table. An empty coffee mug sat on an end table.
She surveyed the adjoining kitchen. Papers littered the Formica kitchen table. A half-eaten bagel sat on a paper plate in the kitchen.
Moving around the counter, she ran her fingers against the coffeepot. Still warm. The light blinked red, indicating the machine was still on. Either Janet Kelly had left in a hurry, or she wasn’t too worried about burning down her humble abode.
Kate flipped through the papers on the table. Bills, receipts, a fashion magazine. The woman had a penchant for shopping. Kate continued searching, hoping to find anything that might link Janet Kelly to the nightmare that had become her life.
Nothing stood out. She scanned the room again. On the opposite side of the kitchen lay a newspaper. Sighing, she moved to it and flipped it face up.
Then drew in a breath.
The front page boasted a photo of her and Ryan at the press conference yesterday. The photographer had captured a moment when she’d been answering a question, and Ryan had glanced her direction. He’d either been surprised by something she’d said, or moved. There was a gentle expression across his face. One at major odds with the way he’d looked at her earlier that day. But what caused Kate to stare wasn’t merely the picture but the red circle that had been drawn in marker around her face.
The squeak of floorboards above drew her attention. Grabbing the paper, she made her way up the stairs.
The second floor consisted of one large bedroom divided into a sleeping area and an office. Along one wall sat a desk and computer. Papers littered the surface. A lamp hung down from above.
Ryan looked up from the stack of papers he was flipping when she came into the room. “Janet Kelly left in a hurry.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.” A sense of dread slithered beneath her skin. “Coffeepot’s still warm downstairs.”
“Find anything?”
“Just this.” She tossed the paper on the desk in front of him.
He stared at it. She couldn’t read his expression.
“What about you?” she asked, shaking off the foreboding sense of fear coursing through her.
“Not a lot.” He lifted a torn sheet of notebook paper and handed it to her. “You recognize any names on there?”
“My name’s on here.”
“I know.”
There were roughly fifteen names on the sheet, over half of which were crossed out in red. Hers was circled at the bottom.
“What is this?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t know. But I think we need to start checking out the other names on that list, then find Janet Kelly and figure out what the hell’s going on.”
Chapter Fifteen
She did not want to be here.
Being shoved into a tiny tube while strapped to a table wasn’t Kate’s idea of fun. She ground her teeth and took calming breaths. She’d much rather be out making phone calls with Ryan than having the CT scan he’d insisted on this afternoon.
The test was taking entirely too long. Didn’t they realize she was claustrophobic?
The machine buzzed and whirred, and the table retracted from the tube.