Lover, Stranger Part 5

Grace opened her hands, palms up, as if to say, "You're on," and Ethan cleared his throat.

"It's me. Ethan. I forgot my key." A surprised silence ensued, then a woman with a Spanish accent said, "Dr. Hunter? I'm so glad you're finally home. Un momenta, por favor."

Almost immediately the lock on the gate was disengaged from inside the house, and the gate swung open. They walked through the lush courtyard toward the front door.

Somewhere on the grounds, Ethan heard a sprinkler, and a dog barked in the distance. He glanced up at the winking light on the security camera mounted inside the gate, and thought again of the jungle. Of eyes watching him in the darkness.

The door was drawn back, and a tiny woman wearing a gray-and-white uniform appeared in the light. She took one look at Ethan and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Dr. Hunter, are you all right?"

"I will be," he a.s.sured her.

' "Dios Mio." Quickly she crossed herself, then took his arm, murmuring in Spanish while she gently ushered him inside.

"What happened?"

"It's a long story."

As she fussed over him, Ethan tried to study his surroundings without giving himself away, but it was hard to contain his reaction. The inside of the house was even more overwhelming than the outside. The jungle theme of the courtyard had been carried through to the foyer, and--he discovered moments later when they climbed a circular staircase--to the second-floor living room.

Giant palms and tree ferns stretched toward a vast ceiling of skylights, while dozens of potted orchids with magnificent purple, yellow and white blooms added to the exotic atmosphere. From his perch across the room, a huge blue-and-yellow parrot tracked them with beady, knowing eyes.

It was like being back in that jungle. Ethan suddenly felt claustrophobic.

He allowed the maid to lead him to a deep leather chair, and wearily he sank into it.

She drew up an ottoman for his feet, still muttering and clucking like a mother hen.

"What happened, Dr. Hunter?" she asked again when she finally had him settled to her satisfaction.

"Was there an accidente?"

"He was mugged," Grace said.

The maid whirled, as if she'd only now discovered Grace's presence.

She turned back to Ethan, her dark eyes wide and frightened.

"Should I call the policia?"

Her English was almost flawless when she chose it to be. Ethan had the impression her lapses into Spanish were more by design, a reminder, to herself perhaps, of the heritage she'd long ago left behind.

"I've already spoken with the police," he told her. She wrung her hands.

"I knew something was wrong. I expected you home hours ago.

When you called from the airport in Mejico, you said your flight was on time.

Then you didn't come. " She broke off, her gaze easing back to Grace.

Ethan said, "This is Grace Donovan. She gave me a ride home from the hospital."

Grace walked over beside Ethan, and the maid's gaze followed her, narrowing.

"How do you do?" Grace held out her hand. The maid took it tentatively.

Grace said, "I'm sorry. I don't believe I caught your name."

"Rosa."

Nicely done, Ethan thought, although why he felt the need to hide his amnesia from his housekeeper he had no idea. He hadn't told Dr. Kendall or Sergeant Pope of his memory loss, either. He hadn't confided in anyone but Grace, and again, he didn't know why, except that she was Amy's sister, and he'd felt he owed her something. Some sort of explanation.

She was only twenty-four years old. A baby.

He fingered the bruises on his throat, in some perverse way welcoming the pain.

Rosa said anxiously, "Can I get you something? Agua? Te?"

"No, thank you." For the first time, Ethan noticed a shopping bag and purse on the white leather sofa beside the chair where he sat. He glanced at Rosa.

"Were you on your way out?"

She looked faintly uncomfortable.

"Si. I was going to stay with my daughter tonight. She has a new bebe, remember? Her husband is out of town, and tomorrow is my day off. We talked about this on the phone earlier, but with everything that's happened" -- She broke off, staring down at him, shaking her head.

"To Undo. cara... to pobre linda cara..."

Ethan automatically put a hand to his face.

"Don't worry. It looks a lot worse than it is. You go on. Go be with your daughter. I'm fine."

She looked doubtful, but Grace said, "Yes, don't worry about Dr. Hunter, Rosa. I'll look after him."

Rosa's gaze darkened disapprovingly.

"What about Senora Hunter?" ' "What about her?" Ethan asked, tensing.

Rosa hesitated.

"She called earlier. She said Dr. Kendall told her you were coming back tonight. If she comes here and finds you" -- Her gaze shot to Grace.

"Last time ... the acid ... your car..." Ethan exchanged a glance with Grace. To Rosa, he said, "Look, don't worry.

I can handle Senora Hunter. You go be with your daughter and nieto. I insist. "

She glanced at Grace, shaking her head and muttering, "Trouble," as she turned and collected her purse and shopping bag from the sofa.

"Mucho trouble."

grace wandered around the magnificent living room while Ethan followed Rosa downstairs. She could hear them murmuring in low tones, but couldn't tell what they were saying. After a few moments, their voices faded, and Grace a.s.sumed they'd walked to the back of the house, where a rear entrance probably led to the garage.

After a few minutes, Ethan came back into the room from a different entrance, and Grace turned to him expectantly.

"Everything okay?" He nodded.

"I told Rosa the concussion was playing tricks with my short-term memory. I asked her to help me with the alarm code."

"Did she?"

"Everything's set. We're armed and dangerous."

"I like the sound of that," Grace murmured. She felt the weight of her gun in her purse and almost smiled. Thank goodness it hadn't been necessary to use force to convince him to cooperate with her. Not yet at least.

"Did you get that part about your wife?

"The acid... your car." I wonder what happened. "

Ethan's mouth thinned.

"I'm not sure I want to know. Sounds like we have a real loving relationship."

Grace sensed that Rosa's words bothered him more than he let on. She said reluctantly, "Do you think she found out about your affair with Amy? Maybe it was a sort of Fatal Attraction in reverse." He turned away.

"I really don't want to speculate on the state of my marriage."

"But we have to," Grace said.

"That's the only way we'll find answers."

He turned to stare at her.

"Do you really think my wife had something to do with Amy's murder?"

Grace shrugged.

"It wouldn't be the first time jealousy got out of hand."

His gaze, if possible, darkened.

"Is that what Amy intimated in her letters? Was she afraid of my wife?"

"She mentioned her a few times. She called her Pilar. I think there'd been some trouble. But I think the danger Amy referred to came from a different source. Something to do with your clinic in Mexico. If you're up to it, I thought we might go over her letters together.

Something might jog your memory. "

He ran a weary hand through his hair and walked away.

"Of course, we don't have to do it right now," Grace murmured. He didn't seem to hear her. He wandered around the room, touching a table here, a chair there, as if he could somehow absorb the essence of the room, of who he had been, into his consciousness. After a few moments, the almost preternatural silence got to Grace. She walked over to stand beside him.

"This is quite a place." He traced the curved stem of some exotic potted flower, then clipped a red bloom with his thumb nail, as if the delicate blossoms were no more rare or precious than a dandelion. The scarlet petals fell like drops of blood to the surface of the gla.s.s table.

"It feels more like a prison than a home," he finally said.

"A prison?" Grace glanced around the s.p.a.cious room. The dense foliage gave the illusion of nature at her most primal, and the enormous skylights afforded a magnificent view of the night sky. She made a sweeping gesture with her arm.

"It seems more like a jungle to me.

Wild. Primitive. Look, you can even see the moon. "

Ethan glanced up, and Grace could have sworn she saw him shudder. He turned away, heading toward a door at one end of the long room. He opened it and switched on a light.

Grace came up behind him.

"What's in there?"

"Looks like an office or a study."

"That should be a good place to start searching for clues, right?"

She sensed him tense. He seemed reluctant to enter the room. Grace said, "Want me to go first?"

"No," he said over his shoulder.

"I'll just have a quick look for now."

Grace frowned. Obviously he didn't want her following him into the study, but why? What was he afraid she might find? She turned and walked back to the middle of the room. A movement to her right startled her, and she whirled, automatically grabbing for the gun in her purse. But then she saw the huge parrot preening himself, and realized she'd forgotten all about him.

He'd been quiet and still since they arrived, but now all of a sudden, he'd grown restless.

Grace tentatively approached his perch. His movements weren't restricted in any way. She supposed he could fly around the room if he chose to, but all he did was take a couple of nervous, sideways steps on the perch.

A cage with an open door sat on a pedestal near the perch, and Grace guessed that was where he took his meals and got his water. Maybe he was even trained to go potty there as well, she thought, because the room was immaculate.

She stood a couple of feet back from the perch and watched him for a moment. His beady little gaze held hers.

"Hey," she said softly, trying not to alarm him.

"What's your name?" He c.o.c.ked his head and continued to stare at her.

"What's the matter?" Grace asked.

"Cat got your tongue?" All of a sudden, he let out a piercing squawk and flapped his wings so vigorously that Grace screeched, too, and covered her head. When he made no move to attack, she let out a breath of relief and relaxed.

"Sorry," she told him.

"It was just a figure of speech." She could have sworn the bird looked sullen and put out. Grace decided she'd better make peace. Moving toward him, she made a kissing sound with her lips and crooned, "Polly want a cracker?"