Forget to Remember, page 12
Palos Verdes loomed directly in front of Carol. It looked like a mountain. The street started uphill. She remembered Rigo telling her their home was higher than 1100 feet above sea level. She was coming from close to sea level. Her legs ached. She came to Palos Verdes Boulevard. She knew from riding with Rigo that this street led to Malaga Cove. From there she could take Palos Verdes Drive North to Silver Spur to Hawthorne and then home. She was glad she’d paid attention to where they went.
However, it was easier said than done. By the time Carol was on the final stretch on Hawthorne, she was moving slowly. Each step required an effort. She was thirsty and tired and sore. Her feet burned. When she finally entered the driveway of the Ramirez residence she felt proud of her accomplishment. The outside light was on. She unlocked the front door and went into the house, trying not to make any noise.
She heard a soft snore. There was Rigo, asleep in a chair. She hated to wake him, but she had to. He was worried about her. She had to let him know she was okay. She touched his arm and spoke softly. “Rigo.”
Rigo woke with a start. He looked at her and then at his watch. It was after three. Carol said, “Thanks for waiting up. I’m sorry I’m so late.”
“You should have called me.”
“I lost my cell phone.” It was a lame excuse and also gave the wrong idea. “I’m fine.”
Rigo saw the scrape on her arm. He didn’t seem to be buying her story. She had to do better. “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. I had an adventure. I’m going to get a glass of water and go to bed.” She gave him a kiss on the forehead and went into the kitchen.
CHAPTER 19
Carol had told Rigo the whole story. At least he hoped she had told him the whole story. He knew by now she kept secrets from him. She had been vague about how she’d acquired a driver’s license. Paul Vigiano, the North Carolina attorney, was involved in this, somehow, but their relationship wasn’t clear.
She claimed Jake Beard was gay. A gay football player? He supposed it was possible. Hadn’t some guy written a book about being a gay football player? She’d shown she had a conscience by not taking the billionaire’s money. She had most of the attributes he was looking for in a wife—except an identity. She couldn’t even get married.
Rigo and Carol hadn’t come up with any new information on Carol’s identity. Neither had Frances who was waiting for the results of an expanded DNA test for the woman, Victoria Brody. The swimsuit video appeared to be a dead end. Rigo knew this was frustrating to Carol. He wished he could be of more help so she would stop doing dangerous things. She had to avoid Beard. She told Rigo he and Adam shouldn’t go to the sports bar when Beard was likely to be there.
Tina called from work and told Carol a man named Kyle had phoned and said he had Carol’s cell phone and jacket and where should he send them? Tina told him to send them to her office. Carol said Kyle, who was the billionaire’s assistant, must have taken Tina’s business card out of her purse. That was as bad as going through security at an airport. Maybe worse. Had this Kyle strip-searched her as well? Rigo decided he didn’t like Kyle.
***
Carol had left a brief note for Tina and Ernie in the kitchen before going to bed. Then she slept until late in the morning. She told Rigo everything that happened, figuring he deserved to know. Feeling sorry that she was such a pain to him, she spent the rest of the day with him until he went to work.
He took her to a private tennis club he had access to because of his accomplishments and gave her a lesson. She had apparently played before, but she wasn’t in his class. He was a good teacher, and she learned a lot. They had fun.
When Ernie and Tina arrived home, Tina talked about the phone call from Kyle. “Kyle asked if you were all right. He sounded concerned. Of course, I couldn’t tell him because I hadn’t seen you yet. I did tell him you returned home safely.”
Carol told them an abbreviated version of her adventures last night, downplaying the difficulties and making light of the betting. She tried to make it amusing. They might not have completely bought what she said, but they were too polite to grill her.
Ernie started talking about a problem they had at their office. “A new division of our company is working on heating systems that don’t generate much or any carbon dioxide. They utilize hydrogen and oxygen, which can be extracted from water. When we’re talking to a prospect, we have to go through some fairly intricate mathematical calculations to justify the cost and determine what the monetary savings and reduction in carbon output will be. The man who had been doing these calculations just left us for a better job.”
Carol was intrigued. “Show me what kind of calculations you’re talking about.” She knew the odds at backgammon. She knew how to convert from decimal to binary. Maybe her understanding of math went deeper than that. She suspected it did. She had a warm feeling about numbers.
Ernie took a pad and wrote equations on it that involved both math and chemistry. Carol had no trouble following him. When he set up a problem, she was able to solve it, using a calculator and knowledge that came from somewhere deep within her brain.
Ernie and Tina were impressed. It gave Carol an idea. “Why don’t I work for you? I could do the calculations and help you prepare proposals. Hopefully, it would save you some time.”
Ernie was enthusiastic. “It would be a godsend.”
Tina took care of the financial end of the business. “We can’t pay you. You don’t have a Social Security number.”
“You’ve already paid me.” Carol made a sweeping gesture with her arm, indicating the surroundings. “You’ve given me a place to stay. You’ve fed me. You’ve bought me clothes. You’ve given me friendship. Without you, I would be naked, starving, friendless, and on the streets. Please let me help you.”
Ernie laughed. “Well, when you put it that way. Would you like to come to work with us tomorrow? We’re putting together a big proposal now. It’s worth a lot of money if we can land the business.”
***
Carol was gushing to a sleepy Rigo who was drinking coffee and eating breakfast while trying to wake up. “You and I have a great opportunity to help your parents. I worked on a proposal yesterday that involved a lot of calculations. I did them by hand, but there’s a better way. You can write a program to do the calculations. It would make good use of your computer skills, and it would save them a tremendous amount of time. I can show you exactly what the program has to do.”
She had labored all day and felt good about the results. She knew she had done this sort of thing before. All the time she was working, however, she had the feeling it could be done easier, faster, more efficiently. When she thought about Rigo and the classes on computer science and programming he’d taken at the University of Southern California, she was sure it was a match made in heaven. All she had to do now was convince him.
Carol had finished the calculations for the big proposal. Ernie told her she had earned her keep. That’s when she decided to stay home on Friday and try to motivate Rigo. Maybe she should have waited until he had a couple of cups of coffee in him. Her enthusiasm hadn’t allowed her to wait, however.
Rigo was either thinking or falling back to sleep; she wasn’t sure which. Then his face grew more animated. “It sounds like fun.”
“It’s right up your alley. I think you should forget about jumping through all the hoops the state makes you go through to be a counselor, or—heaven forbid—a therapist, and concentrate on computers. You’re good with computers and you enjoy working with them. Plus, you’ll get a much faster financial return than you will by taking years to get some kind of certificate to hang on your wall.”
Rigo was laughing by this time. “We need someone with your enthusiasm to promote world peace. When do we start?”
“As soon as you finish breakfast.”
CHAPTER 20
Rigo felt he’d earned the right to go to the Friday afternoon football game at the high school. He and Carol had worked for several hours on the computer program and had actually been able to get a prototype running. It needed more work, of course, but at least they knew it could be done.
His parents would be pleased with him—and Carol. She’d convinced him this program would save them a lot of time and money. If he joined the company as a computer expert rather than some sort of flunky, it would be good for his ego, and—the thought he usually suppressed occurred to him, unbidden—his father would be proud of him.
He and Carol met Adam at the game. Adam insisted on sitting beside Carol. Rigo insisted on sitting beside Carol, too, which meant she had to sit in the middle. They were crowded together, their legs touching. He hoped she didn’t feel uncomfortable with this arrangement.
Adam was Rigo’s best friend. He was also a married man with two children and another on the way. He wouldn’t try anything with Carol. There had been that time in high school when Adam had stolen a girl from him. At least that’s the way Rigo remembered it. He wished Adam weren’t sitting quite so close to Carol. Rigo strained to hear what Adam was saying to her over the noise of the crowd.
“I walked here from the office.” Adam looked at Carol, as if expecting her approval.
“That’s a start. Now maybe you’ll consider a regular exercise program.”
Carol was keeping a psychological distance from him. Good.
“I play tennis.”
“Once a week with Rigo. That’s not enough.”
“Old Rigo doesn’t have a regular program.” Adam winked at Rigo.
“He washes dishes six days a week. That involves a lot of physical movement, including running around, clearing tables. Restaurant workers get tons of exercise.” Carol turned to Rigo. “If you go to work for your folks, you will have to do more to keep in shape.”
***
At halftime the band came out on the field and played fight songs. Two majorettes in fancy costumes twirled their batons. They threw them high in the air and caught them. Rigo noticed Carol was watching them intently. He had an idea. “Would you like to meet the coach for the majorettes? She was in high school when we were.”
They made their way down to the field while Adam went off to buy a hotdog. Rigo had had a crush on Jennifer in high school and still saw her once in a while. She was married to an aerospace engineer. It wouldn’t hurt for her to see him with another beautiful woman. He went up to her and gave her a hug.
“Rigo. So good to see you. How are you?” She gave him her patented smile that had dazzled him as a teenager.
“Great. I’d like you to meet Carol Golden. Carol is staying with my parents for a while. Carol, this is Jennifer Smith.”
They shook hands and said hello. Jennifer’s long blond hair and light complexion contrasted with Carol’s short dark hair and darker complexion.
“Where are you from, Carol?”
Rigo saw Carol didn’t know how to answer that question. He jumped in before the situation became awkward. “She’s from the East Coast. She’s out here to decide whether she wants to live in California, or whether she’d rather live where there’s no danger of falling into the ocean.”
Carol had recovered. “Your girls are really good. You’ve trained them well.”
“Were you a majorette?”
Carol hesitated and then smiled. She picked up a baton lying at Jennifer’s feet. She did a few exploratory twirls in slow motion and then went through a short routine, including passing the baton behind her back. She stopped and balanced it on one finger. “It’s been a long time.”
Rigo was impressed. He suspected Carol was as good as Jennifer, if not better. They chatted for a few minutes. Carol asked Jennifer if they twirled blindfolded or with fire batons. Jennifer admitted they didn’t and invited Carol to come to one of their practice sessions. They agreed they would try to meet sometime soon .
***
Carol sensed Rigo didn’t want her walking to Adam’s office with him, but she did it anyway. She had declined Rigo’s invitation to drive her home after the game. He had gone to the restaurant. She had to get out of the box in which fate had placed her. The more contacts she had, the more people she knew, the more likely she would discover her former life.
It was a short walk to Adam’s office. Adam wasn’t straining himself by doing it. He had made more out of it than it deserved. She felt like telling him how she’d walked home from Manhattan Beach in the wee hours of the morning, but she refrained. Adam didn’t know she’d gone out with Jake Beard. It was none of his business.
While they were walking, Adam regaled her with tales of his financial successes and his growing client base. She suspected anything Adam said should be taken with a generous allowance for overstatement. Not that he wasn’t good at what he did. Tina and Ernie had an account with him, and they were no slouches at matters financial.
Adam’s building was close to the library, which she was already familiar with, having used it to look up information related to her identity not readily available on the Internet. They took the elevator up to the fourth floor. This was the only four-story building in sight.
The whole fourth floor was deserted. Financial dealings on the West Coast started around 6:30 in the morning when the stock market opened. That was 9:30 in New York. The financial advisors tended to leave correspondingly early, by mid-afternoon. Adam explained these things and showed her into his office.
“I’m the youngest financial advisor to have a window office.”
He was clearly proud of that fact. Carol should compliment him. “You must be doing very well.”
He motioned her to take a seat. He sat down in his own chair behind the desk.
“I am. I’d love to open an account for you.”
“As you know, I’m penniless.” Carol pretended to pull out the insides of the pockets of her jeans. Officially, that was the truth.
“Maybe not for long. I have a proposition for you.”
Carol wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what was coming next.
“As you know, I’m married. My wife is pregnant with our third child. She’s having a problem pregnancy. To put it bluntly, we can’t have sex. I’m very attracted to you. You need a way of earning money. We can help each other out.”
She probably should have stopped him right there, but she was curious to find out what he had in mind concerning the financial side of the deal. He explained he was running a mutual fund for some of his clients. He could set up an account in his name and Social Security number that would actually be for her. It would receive a pro rata share of his mutual fund purchases.
She didn’t tell him she already had a Social Security number that had been used to open a bank account for her. Of course, it wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny by the IRS.
At the risk of leading him on, Carol asked a question. “Since the account is in your name, how do I know I can get the money?”
“All you have to do is ask me. If I don’t come through, you can threaten to tell my wife. We can meet in the afternoon. You like to walk. You’ll go out for a walk. I’ll pick you up and take you to a hotel that’s just ten minutes from here by car. I’m free tomorrow at three. How does that sound?”
He had all the answers. He was glib—too glib. Paul had been married, also, but that was an entirely different situation. Carol felt disgust for Adam. She looked him in the eye.
“Sorry, Adam, but it’s not going to happen. I don’t know your wife, but I’m sure if I did I’d like her. You forgot one other thing. I couldn’t live in the same house as Rigo if I were fucking you.” She used the word deliberately, to put the harshest possible light on what they would be doing.
Adam ignored her objections. He didn’t give up. He kept on talking. She had to give him an “A” for persistence. Was this how he got clients? She stood and walked out the door of his office. Adam came after her.
“Think it over. I’ll drive you home.”
She didn’t want to be bombarded anymore. She kept on walking to the elevator and pushed the button. “No thanks. I’ll walk. I like to walk, remember?”
CHAPTER 21
In spite of the cracks she’d made about using a GPS, Carol found it was helpful to her. She hadn’t followed its advice exactly while driving north through the Los Angeles basin. It wanted her to take the 405 freeway all the way to Sunset, but she opted for La Cienega Boulevard, starting just north of LAX, remembering Beard had followed this route. Traffic was considerably lighter on a Saturday afternoon than it had been during the weekday rush hour, and she made good time.
Where the GPS really helped was navigating the narrow and winding streets going up into the hills above Sunset. She couldn’t possibly reverse her escape route from Ault’s house without help, even in daylight, especially since she was going uphill instead of downhill, but the insistent voice of the GPS told her about every turn.
Tina had let Carol drive her car, which was equipped with GPS, rationalizing that Carol had a driver’s license, however fraudulent. Carol had driven in North Carolina without mishap. Ernie’s advice was to tell the police—if she were stopped—she was just visiting California. Permanent residents had to acquire a California driver’s license.
Kyle had called Tina at the office Friday afternoon and told her Mr. Ault would like Carol to come for dinner on Saturday—alone, meaning not with Jake Beard. No chance of that. When Carol had called him back, she asked Kyle why Mr. Ault wanted her to come. Wasn’t he mad at her?
“He likes your company and your spunk. He understands what happened. Beard is a slime bag. I’ve been telling him that for years.”
Rigo didn’t want her to go alone; he said it was risky. But he was working. If she just accepted invitations that were completely without risk, she wouldn’t go anywhere. The riskiest aspect of her situation was her lack of identity, not having dinner with a billionaire.
