Remember Me (11 page)

Brandon woke again, and she helped him outside so he could take care of his personal needs. When they returned, she directed him to the cot, helped him get comfortable and gave him some over-the-counter pain pills, the sole thing she had to help ease the discomfort of his ankle. He didn’t complain about his head, only the ankle, so she took the chance it was safe to give him some relief.

Once she had him settled, he looked at her. “What about you?”

“I’ll bunk on the floor near the fire if I get sleepy. Don’t worry about me.”

She watched him most of the night, memorizing every feature of his face. It wouldn’t take long to find them. After all, this was the heir apparent to one of the biggest newspaper companies in the country, maybe the world. Chances were, people were already searching. There wouldn’t be room for Lucy Cameron aka Jasmine LeFleur, the main dancer at Flamingo Road, anywhere in the headlines that would surround Brandon Barlow-Barrett’s brush with death. Nor should there be. At most, she would be a scandal, an embarrassment.

She stared into the flames crackling and snapping in the fireplace and could envision the headlines.
Newspaper Tycoon Holed Up With Stripper. Did In-flight Hanky-panky Lead to Mountain Crash?
Yeah. Not what the Barlow-Barretts would want published. Not what she wanted published either. Lucy had worked damn hard to keep her personal identity and her professional one separate. She lived in a quiet residential neighborhood. It was working class, but they were nice people. Publicity like this could tarnish Brandon’s future, but it could annihilate hers.

* * * *

Matt spent the night pouring over maps of the area between Falcon’s Head and Coyote Creek. According to Jim Hanson, there was a dead area in the vicinity of Haven Lake where it could be difficult if not impossible to get out a radio signal. But he knew he’d gotten out of there on his cellphone, yet when he tried Brandon’s he still got dumped into voicemail over and over again. He and Jim both considered Haven Lake a logical starting point to begin looking at first light. It was one of the few areas between the two towns where it might be possible to land a small plane in an emergency.

If they weren’t there, Matt knew the chances of finding anyone alive would be remote. He didn’t even want to think about it. Brandon had been one of his best friends–was still one of his best friends, he corrected himself. They would find him. They would find Tom Hanson and Brandon’s woman, Lucy. He’d seen the look on Bran’s face. Brandon wouldn’t let someone like her slip away without a fight. Matt was counting on determination from all three of them. Tom Hanson had survived Vietnam. He was an excellent pilot under pressure. Brandon, despite his rich-boy upbringing, was mentally and physically tough. Lucy, he didn’t know well, but she had the same look about her. She was a fighter, not some weak-kneed woman who’d lie down and cry at the first sign of trouble.

He’d gotten a call from Brandon’s father when the Barrett Newspapers jet touched down in Denver. Matt told him he and Jim were going up in a helicopter along with other search crews at first light. He wanted Brandon’s father under no false idea he would be waiting on him to arrive before they began their search. That was not happening. Even if the three of them had survived an emergency landing, chances were they were all injured. Depending on the extent of those injuries, they were now in a race against time to save them.

* * * *

Lucy stirred as the sky began to lighten. She tried to remember how long they had been in the air when she’d noticed Haven Lake. It seemed to her it was closer to Falcon’s Head than it was to Coyote Creek. The search would no doubt be based out of Falcon’s Head. Out of habit, she checked her watch, then sighed. It too had become a casualty of the crash. She would have to guess the time. She wanted to give it about fifteen minutes past the point where she figured they would take off. Then she would light the flare and double check to ensure the SOS she’d created last night was still visible.

Brandon slept. For that she was grateful. She had checked on him a couple of times during the night, so she knew the sleep was natural, not something induced either by concussion or coma. She had no more pain medication to give him. If someone didn’t find them today, she wasn’t sure what she would do. His ankle needed attention, but she had no way to give it. With a soft groan, she slipped her boots on, followed by her jacket. After grabbing the flare and a box of matches, she stepped out into a world of white and gray. Little stirred in the morning light, just the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.

Lucy walked to where she’d laid out her crude SOS in logs. It was still visible. She looked over her shoulder at the cabin. The glow from the fire shone through the one small window, casting a patch of warm light on the snow. This would be over soon. She buried the end of the flare in the snow, feeling like she was closing the door on an entire life. In reality, it was four days, but they were four days that had changed her existence. She had believed for a while they had changed Brandon’s too. But that was just a fantasy. He didn’t remember them, didn’t remember meeting her on the plane, teaching her to ski, dancing with her, making love to her. Those memories would stand out forever in her mind. She would never forget, never forget the moment he had turned around in the Cessna and told her he loved her. She would always remember, but it seemed he would not.

Lucy bent close to the flare and struck a match to the edge of the box. The first two went out before she could get the flare to light, but the third match connected. With a hiss and a sizzle, the flare lit, sending out its reddish chemical glare and highlighting even more the darker letters of her wooden SOS.

In the distance, she thought she heard the faint thump-thump-thump of helicopter rotors. Brandon would get help now. Wanting at least a moment or two alone with him, she jogged along the path and entered the cabin. He might not remember, but she would and she could at least savor these last couple minutes. He lay on his back with one arm across his chest and the other thrown above his head. His golden hair was tousled like it had been–was it just yesterday morning she had awakened with him next to her?–in his room. He looked like he would open his eyes any moment. She wished he would and tell her this had all been a dream or a joke.

The speed of the rotors increased and the sound of snow crystals peppering the cabin joined the rhythmic thumping of the motor. Her throat ached even more than her chest, but this wasn’t a time for tears. She crossed the room to his side and rubbed his shoulder.

“Brandon? Wake up. Help’s arrived. We’re going to get you out of here now.”

He blinked at her, and the blankness of his gaze was like a knife cutting her heart in two.

The next several hours passed in a daze. She vaguely remembered the arrival of a medevac chopper right on the heels of Matt and Jim Hanson’s arrival. She remembered the look on Jim’s face when he’d stepped into the cabin and seen Tom was not with them. As they left in the air ambulance for the hospital in Falcon’s Head, she had answered the questions directed at her perfunctorily, her eyes glued to what was going on with Brandon. They hooked fluids to him, someone was unwrapping the ankle she’d splinted and taped. Lucy heard the word surgery bandied about. Not surprising. There would be only the best for Brandon Barlow-Barrett.

When they arrived at the hospital’s landing pad, she saw a tall, silver-haired man in a long, black wool coat, a blond woman tucked into his side and wrapped from neck to ankles in fur. The man looked like Brandon, but he was harder, more arrogant. The couple’s eyes skated over her, through her, as if she were not there. And to them, she wasn’t. All but one of the paramedics rushed alongside Brandon’s stretcher, the older couple hurrying in its wake. Lucy watched them go, a small twisting wrench in her gut leaving her feeling empty and alone.

“Come, Miss Cameron. Let’s get you to the ER. They’ll do an evaluation on you, but I suspect you’ll be treated and released. You were lucky. The shoulder injury appears to be some blunt force trauma, but nothing serious. Your scratches seem to be healing fine on their own. It’s a miracle.”

“Thanks. Treated and released would be good.” The only serious injury was to her emotions, but she would get better. Once she got home and back to her regular routine, she would get better.

With just a bruised shoulder, the medical staff had a few other cases that had to be seen in front of her. After a wait that seemed interminable, they got her into X-ray, satisfied themselves her shoulder was only bruised, then sent her out. With nowhere else to go, and too tired to think about it, Lucy sat and watched the news coverage on the television. Wow, if she hadn’t experienced the crash firsthand, she’d never know she’d even been on board the same plane from listening to the reporter doing a live shot outside the hospital.

“Miss Cameron?”

She looked into a pair of flat, blue eyes.

“I’m Mike Lovelace with the National Transportation Safety Board. I need to ask you a few questions…”

She must have given him the answers he needed. When he finished, she asked, “Will you need me for anything else or can I go home?”

“To the resort or to your permanent address?”

“Home. I believe I’ve seen all I care to of mountains and snow for some time to come.”

“We’re through. I have your information if we should need to reach you. Someone may contact you for a formal deposition.” He paused for a moment. “Do you have anyone here to give you a ride?”

“I can.” The voice came from behind her. Lucy turned, somewhat curious, to find Matt Petersohn waiting, his fingers tucked into his jeans pockets. Lovelace nodded at them both, then walked down the hall. Matt squatted in front of her. “Have they seen you?”

Lucy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, yes. I just have some bruising, so there’s no need for me to stay. I should be thankful for how lucky I was.” She looked into Matt’s steady gaze. “Why, in a week or so, I’ll have absolutely nothing to remind me of this and can put it from my mind.” Lucy stopped and clamped down on her lower lip with her teeth.

“Lucy…”

“Don’t!” she hissed at him. “If you’re going to give me a ride, then let’s do this. You’ll accept my apology, I hope, if I’m not the most scintillating conversationalist on the trip up the mountain. For some odd reason, it keeps sticking in my mind I had to leave a dead man sitting in his plane overnight with nothing more than a tarp wrapped around him. And after I hauled the other man out of the wreck to find us both shelter, he doesn’t even remember who I am. But I’m sure I’ll be able to put it all from my mind. It will fade like the bruises on my shoulder.”

Their eyes met. In his, she saw an immense amount of understanding and she had to look away before she cracked. As if sensing her turmoil, he drew her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. The news crews are so busy making sure they get the medevac chopper in the background of their live shots, I doubt they’ll even notice us.” Even saying so, he hurried her along the sidewalk and out to the parking lot, where a van from the resort waited. Matt made sure she was buckled in, then slid behind the wheel. “You know, his dad did ask about you. He wants to thank you.”

Lucy stared out the window. “I think that would be a little awkward under the circumstances. I want to get my things packed, then I want to get on a flight home.”

“Lucy,” Matt grated, “amnesia like this is almost always temporary…”

She turned and put her hand on his arm. When he looked at her, she said, “I don’t want him to remember. It would be better if he never remembers.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do. You need to understand this. I am not anyone Brandon should even know. My real name
is
Lucy Cameron, but I have a work name–Jasmine LeFleur. I’m an exotic dancer at a high-end club in DC. How well do you think that will stack up in Brandon’s life? If it became public, rival media outlets would have a heyday with it. And I saw his parents. My God! She practically flies a DAR banner behind her, and he’s got Yacht Club written all over him. I doubt they’d appreciate the finer points of pole dancing.” Lucy jerked her head away and mumbled, “Just let me get out of here, and when I’m gone, do everyone a favor–lose any records of my stay here, especially my home and work addresses.”

“I think you’re making a mistake.”

“If you are the good friend to him he believes you to be, you will do this.”

Chapter 8

“I don’t know if this will help me remember or not, Matt, but I need to do it.” It had been six weeks since the crash and while Brandon still carried the cane the doctor insisted he have, it was now more a decoration than a necessity.

“We’ll take the helicopter. That way if you want to set down, we can, but I’m warning you right now, if you get away from right around the lake, the terrain is too rough for that ankle of yours.”

“I’m not planning on hiking.” Brandon set his cane inside the helicopter and then stepped onto the skid before folding himself into the seat next to Matt. “I appreciate you doing this.”

Matt grinned at him. “It gives me a chance to see how much skiing we might have left, and how much melting’s already occurred. I get some guests who like hiking to Haven Lake.”

After slipping on his headset, Matt pointed to Brandon’s set and then picked up his clipboard and began going through his preflight checklist. As the rotors started and picked up speed, Brandon stared out the side window at the mountain where they would be heading. He hoped this trip would start giving him a feeling of being back in control of his life. Right now, that was something lacking. Having a chunk of his life disappear was fucking with his head. What pissed him off even more was no one else seemed to want to discuss it, including Matt. Whenever Brandon had brought up those missing days and the mysterious woman who’d also been a part of the plane crash, Matt went tight-lipped and silent.