Chapter 7

There was just no other way to describe her. The woman was beautiful. Beautiful in that classy Grace-Kelly-kind-of-way, even while she was scantily dressed. An angel and a vixen, that's how she looked.

Luke, almost reluctantly, pulled his eyes away from the woman who'd just stepped into the bar and grill and returned to nursing the beer he'd bought to help settle his nerves. He was waiting on his old co-worker to meet him for lunch and was a little worried about the information he'd learn from the meeting. All morning long he'd wavered on whether or not it was still important to learn the truth. The deeper he dug, the more puzzling things became.

"Waiting for someone?"

Luke turned at hearing the voice and saw that it had come from her. His beautiful lady. She was standing beside the bar stool next to him, smiling and looking at him as if she expected him to react to her invitation. The expectant look on her face suggested she was worried he'd turn her down.

For a split second he was tempted to invite her to join him. Maybe get drunk enough to take her back to his place for the afternoon. It would be nice to forget about his problems for a while, and women like this didn't come along every day.

But he just couldn't do that.

"Actually, I am," he said, but softened the rebuff with a soft smile. "Sorry."

She shot him a funny look, as if she was surprised by his answer after all, but then she sent him a small, almost flirtatious smile. "Too bad," she said with a dramatic sigh and sat beside him anyway. "But maybe I'll get lucky and she won't show up."

He laughed a little, then lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers, drawing attention to his ring. "Today I'm meeting a friend. But if you're just looking for a little conversation to keep you company, I'll be happy to oblige until another guy comes along to whisk you away."

She sent him another funny look, almost a probing look, before turning her attention to the bartender and ordering a drink. When she turned back to him, she said, "Your wife is a lucky woman."

"Some might say I'm a lucky man," he returned with a slight shrug.

Before he could engage the lovely brunette in deeper conversation, he heard someone call his name, and he turned to see a tall man gesturing at him in welcome. Luke figured this must be A.J. as he politely excused himself and went to meet the other man.

"Man, same old Luke," he was greeted with a big smile and hearty handshake. "I knew not even a ton of bricks could keep my man down. How are you feeling?"

Luke had hoped he'd remember something when he saw A.J., but he remembered nothing. They were seated, and Luke explained to the other man all about his recovery and in return was told a lot about the accident that he hadn't remembered.

But it didn't jog any memories either. As they ate, Luke felt himself loosing hope all over again. He was beginning to think he wouldn't remember anything else at all.

"You know, you do seem different, I think."

Luke glanced across the table at his former co-worker and friend and smiled at the comment the other man had just made. A.J. Kincaid hadn't really been what Luke was expecting. A.J. was a tall, wiry black man probably in his early 30s. He'd met Luke at the restaurant wearing a Chicago Cubs hat and a white t-shirt that stated "I'm not getting smaller I'm backing away from you."

No, Luke hadn't remembered him at all, but he picked up a few things right away. A.J. was a quiet guy by nature, but when he spoke he had a crazy sense of humor. He also wore a wedding ring and seemed to love his wife very much.

"Different?" Luke repeated, lifting his coffee for a sip. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," A.J. shrugged. "More laid back. More relaxed. Before, you always seemed to have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"Hmmm," was Luke's only reply. He felt like he still had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then, "From what I understand, you and I were pretty decent friends. Didn't I ever tell you why I might act that way?"

"I don't know, man," he shifted uncomfortably. "I never wanted to get up in your business like that."

"I just thought I might have told you, that's all."

A.J. hemmed and hawed for a bit longer until he finally admitted, "Well, yeah, I guess I had a pretty good idea why."

"Oh?"

He shrugged. "We worked together on a couple of jobs, you know? One time, I don't even remember where we were, but we got pretty drunk one night with some of the guys. Afterward, when it was just the two of us, you started talking some crazy shit."

"About what?" Luke asked, really interested now.

"You pulled out this picture you always carried with you," A.J. said. "I'd seen it before, but I always figured the girl in it was an old girlfriend or something. You finally told me she was your wife. Then you showed me the wedding ring you wore on a chain around your neck. Man, I never even knew you'd been married before that night."

Luke had another sudden, vague recollection of the picture A.J. was referring to. It had been a picture of Luke and Sarah that had been taken the night of their third anniversary. It had been the only one he'd kept when he'd left her, and he'd often pulled it out of his wallet and looked at it to remind himself that life had its good times too.

"Then you started talking about how she'd screwed around on you. Some shit about how you'd tried to forgive her, but then some friend of hers had given you a tape that proved she was still screwing around behind your back and gotten knocked up by this other dude. I didn't ask for any more details, because I didn't want to know any more than that."

"So the reason I left Sarah was because I saw a tape?" Luke repeated, and it made sense. "I said she was pregnant by another man? I actually told you that?"

Had Sarah lied when she said it was one-time event? Did she know, even now, that Jack wasn't his? He raked a frustrated hand through his hair and asked A.J. again if he'd said anything else.

"Just back around January, you asked if I could help you get a gig in Atlanta," the black man said. "I called up an old friend, and we both signed on. When I asked why you were so keen to come here, all you said was you had unfinished business you needed to take care of. I just sort of figured it had to do with your wife."

When Luke realized he wasn't going to get any more clues from A.J., he thanked the man and went to pay for their lunch only to have A.J. stop him and say, "I owe you my life. The least I can do is pay for lunch."

On the drive back to his place, Luke wondered about the tape A.J. had mentioned. He figured Bree-Anne had been the one to show it to him. He decided he'd have to track her down and confront her. If he pretended he remembered what was on the tape, she might be more open to revealing details on her own.

Luke was feeling confused about everything as he walked the stairs to his apartment. Why could he remember a few details now and not the rest? He was thinking of calling his doctor when he pushed open the door to his apartment and then jumped, startled, when he saw the woman sitting there on his couch.

"Sarah!" He clutched his chest and wondered how in hell she'd gotten in here. "You scared me to death!"

"Sorry," she said, looking nervous herself. "I... I told the landlord I was your wife."

"And he let you in, just like that?"

"I have talked to him on the phone before," she said, and then shrugged. "I hoped you wouldn't mind. I had written down the address that was on your license back when you were in the hospital, in case..."

In case I needed to find you again. Luke supposed he could hardly blame her. He would have done the same thing in her shoes. "Where's Jack?"

"Staying with Edna," she said. "I know I shouldn't have left him, but I thought it was more important right now to be here, with you. You sounded so weird last night on the phone..."

With a sigh, Sarah relaxed and rushed toward him, hugging him as if she'd never been happier to see anyone. Luke felt himself return the gesture, despite these newfound doubts.

"I was afraid you'd remember something and start to hate me again," she admitted, and he wondered if she had come to keep him from finding out information.

Sarah must have felt him stiffen because she carefully pulled back to look him in the eye. "Have you remembered something?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he pulled away and turned to put his keys on the table. Finally, he simply said, "I'm glad you came. I wanted to ask you some questions I think might help me remember some things."

Looking reassured now, she nodded and reclaimed her place on his sofa, gesturing for him to sit close beside her. "I want to help. Even if what you remember changes how you feel about me and Jack, I want to help. Ok?"

He wasn't sure he believed her, but he decided to judge her responses and see what feeling he got from her before he decided one way or the other to trust her motives.

"When was the last time you actually saw Riley, or Bree-Anne for that matter?" he asked and watched her reaction carefully.

Her face instantly changed to one of partial disgust. "The last time I saw Riley was the night he tried to force his way into my apartment. When I wouldn't let him in, he became very nasty. He told me you would never take me back, that he'd made sure of that, and how did I like knowing that most of our so-called friends had been betting on how long it would take him to get me into bed? He said it had been easier than he'd ever imagined it would be and a lot of people had collected big money on the wager. He called me a slut and a whore and said I should be grateful he was still interested because no one else in their right mind would be. That's when my neighbor across the hall interrupted. Not long after, I moved. I haven't seen him since. Why? What did he say to you?"

Luke wondered if Sarah was being clever by referring to Riley in the present tense, or did she truly not know that he'd died? Shaking his head, he reminded, "And Bree-Anne?"

The look of disgust turned into one of almost hatred. "Bree-Anne, my so-called best friend? She seemed to be so sympathetic after everything that happened and you left. I thought she was the one person I could count on. She even said Riley was a bastard and encouraged me to get a restraining order when he kept harassing me. I was such a fool.