Forget to Remember, page 24
Did he still have the gun? Carol didn’t want to turn on her flashlight and give away her position. He fired. The bullet smashed through the flimsy wall beside her. She ran to the far corner of the room and lay down flat on the floor. Another shot. She flinched. He was firing at random, hoping to get lucky. She could hear the bullets tear through the wall, threatening to bring the roof down on top of them.
She tensed, waiting to feel the pain of a bullet hitting her. How many shots did he have? The firing stopped. Carol’s ears were ringing. Was he out of ammunition or was this a trick? She heard footsteps below.
“Carol?”
It was Ivan. Did she dare answer? She heard Paul yell and then a cracking of boards, followed by a thud from the first floor. She got up and went cautiously to the doorway, turning on her flashlight. Paul had disappeared, and there was a hole where he’d been. She went over to the hole and shone her flashlight through it.
Paul was lying on the floor with Ivan standing over him, holding a gun, and a flashlight he had evidently borrowed from the guard.
He looked up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine now. A little shaky. Thanks for coming.”
“It looks like you can take care of yourself. His legs were waving in the wind. All I did was pull him the rest of the way through the hole.” He looked down at the heap on the floor. “I didn’t know Paul was such a bastard. How am I going to collect my fee?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll pay you—double.”
“Then I’ll have to give half back to you for your assistance.”
They both laughed.
CHAPTER 40
“Mrs. Horton—Grandma—helped me find my birth certificate. I’m also getting a replacement for my North Carolina driver’s license—the genuine one. I even know my Social Security number.” Carol was bubbling with excitement as she talked to Rigo on the phone.
“Great. I’m glad you’re finally going legit. The IRS will be too. What’s the full name on your birth certificate?”
“Cynthia Horton Sakai.”
“Nice name. I guess I’ll have to call you Cindy from now on.”
“You can call me Cynthia if you like, but not Cindy. It brings back bad memories of Michael. Speaking of memories, I’ve remembered a few things that helped me, such as the loose boards on the second floor of the old house. But I had to hit my head on the ceiling to do it. Maybe that’s what I needed.”
“Another blow to the head? I never heard of that as a cure.”
“Yeah, that sounds dubious. And painful. Guess what. I have a math degree from the University of Massachusetts.”
“Surprise, surprise. Did you have a funeral for Michael?”
“He was cremated. We had a memorial service. Grandma and I were about the only ones who attended. Katherine, the woman at the foundation, didn’t even show up. Of course, she’s been indicted for all kinds of fraud.”
“What about Paul?”
“He’s in trouble up to his eyeballs. In addition to facing a charge of attempted murder, he’ll probably get disbarred.”
“He always sounded like a sleazebag to me. I’m glad you’re rid of him.”
“Me, too.” She would never tell Rigo the whole story about their relationship.
“All that must have generated a lot of publicity in your area.”
“You wouldn’t believe it. With Michael coming back from the dead and then really getting killed, with Paul’s shenanigans—yeah, the reporters have been hounding me. I’ve been on TV and everything. They call me the forgetful heiress.” She changed the subject. “I forgot to tell you that Tim, the security guard Michael stuffed in the well, is going to be okay.”
“I hope he doesn’t have claustrophobia.”
“It wasn’t easy getting him out. The firemen had to come in with all their equipment. He said he was glad he was able to protect us. His groan at the right time probably saved my life. How’s your job going?”
“Which one? I’m working more and more for my parents’ business. I may have to curtail my dishwashing hours.”
“That would be a shame. You’re so good at it. Oh, more big news. I’ve been appointed executor of my parents’ estate, with Grandma’s help.”
“Terrific. I guess the DNA tests helped.”
“Frances got the DNA tests expedited. We have the same mitochondrial DNA and the matches in our autosomal DNA show we’re closely related. I thanked Frances for her help. I want to visit her when I’m in California. We don’t even have to get a court-ordered retest.”
“When are you coming?”
“Next week. I’ll finally be able to get away for a few days. Thank your parents for inviting me to stay with you. I owe them more than I can repay.”
“We’re just glad to know you’ve discovered who you are.”
“I put my parents’ house on the market. I’m going to live on the farm with Grandma. I love it here.”
“Oh.”
Did she hear disappointment in Rigo’s voice? “But I like California, too. I suspect I’m going to become bi-coastal.”
“You’ll have to buy yourself an airplane.”
“Who knows? The sky’s the limit—joke intended.”
They chuckled. Rigo tried to hide his feelings for her by keeping his tone of voice light, but Carol was sure they went deep. Her feelings for him did, too. Now that she was a real person she would finally have a chance to show them.
***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Run into Trouble, winner of several awards, chronicles a race along the California Coast in 1969 during the Cold War. As participants and former undercover agents Drake and Melody encounter deaths and other obstacles, they fear that the Cold War is about to heat up.
After spending more than a quarter of a century as a pioneer in the computer industry, Alan Cook is well into his second career as a writer.
The Hayloft: a 1950s mystery and prize-winning Honeymoon for Three feature Gary Blanchard, first as a high school senior who has to solve the murder of his cousin, and ten years later as a bridegroom who gets more than he bargained for on his honeymoon.
Hotline to Murder takes place at a crisis hotline in Bonita Beach, California. When a listener is murdered, Tony and Shahla team up to uncover the strange worlds of their callers and find the killer.
His Lillian Morgan mysteries, Catch a Falling Knife and Thirteen Diamonds, explore the secrets of retirement communities. Lillian, a retired mathematics professor from North Carolina, is smart, opinionated, and loves to solve puzzles, even when they involve murder.
Alan splits his time between writing and walking, another passion. His inspirational, prize-winning book, Walking the World: Memories and Adventures, has information and adventure in equal parts. He is also the author of Walking to Denver, a light-hearted, fictional account of a walk he did.
Freedom’s Light: Quotations from History’s Champions of Freedom, contains quotations from some of our favorite historical figures about personal freedom. The Saga of Bill the Hermit is a narrative poem about a hermit who decides that the single life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Alan lives with his wife, Bonny, on a hill in Southern California. His website is alancook.50megs.com.
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Forget to Remember
Alan Cook, Forget to Remember
