Chapter 11

He took her to Santini's. On the way, he told her a car had sideswiped hers, and that she hadn't been injured. While she was trying to help others involved in the accident, an explosion had occurred. He left it simple.

"Explosion," she said, her voice far away. "I remember light ... all over ... I was submerged in light."

"What else do you remember?" he asked, his voice guarded.

"Just that. When you said explosion, it just came to me."

When they walked into Santini's, Donna met them. Her smile turned to dismay when she saw Lacey's face.

"Oh, you poor darling," she moaned, hugging the taller woman. "What did this beast do to you?"

"He didn't do anything to me. I was in a wreck," Lacey said. "I don't remember anything about it."

"From the look of you, it's a good thing," said Donna, concern in her eyes.

Lacey looked over.

"I'm all better now," she said. She looked over at Vinny, who had come to the counter, at the tone of his wife's voice. "How's my second most favorite man?" asked Lacey, gaily.

Donna's eyes widened. Bob caught them and gave a minuscule shake of his head. She frowned and raised an eyebrow. Vinny was equally confused. Lacey had never said anything to either of them, except to say how much she enjoyed their food.

"I'm starving here," said Lacey. "I need Lasagna and lots of it. The whole time I was in the hospital, all I could think of was the taste of Vinny's lasagna."

Donna recovered like the pro she was at dealing with the public. "You just come over here, baby," she said. "I'll sit you down and get you some. Can I borrow Bob for a minute? I need to ask him a question."

"Sure," said Lacey. "And could I have some of that wonderful Sangria too?"

"Coming right up, sweetheart," said Donna, pulling at Bob.

She took him to the office.

"What the hell happened to her?" she asked, staring at Bob.

"She was, in fact, in an accident. There was an explosion, and she was unconscious for days. She almost didn't make it."

"She's never flirted with Vinny," said Donna. "And I know for a fact she's never had the lasagna."

"Her memory is fried," said Bob. "She's forgotten a lot. She remembers some things correctly, but then there are other memories that are false, like the lasagna. She thinks we're lovers."

"Well, as to that ... I did too," said Donna. "Are you telling me you aren't ... or weren't?"

"Things never got that far, Donna. I like her. She's had a rough go of it and needed a friend. I didn't push it."

"I've always known you were a good man, Detective," said Donna. "What are you gonna do?"

"I haven't got the faintest idea," admitted Bob. "She's forgotten some things that are better left that way. Her most unhappy moments seem to be gone. She says she loves me."

"That much is true. I knew that the first time you brought her here," said Donna.

"What?" Bob was astonished. "We weren't that way, Donna."

"Well, I know what I saw, and I saw a woman who wanted to spend a LOT of time around you. Maybe it wasn't love, but it wasn't far from it."

"Donna, I never even kissed her, until I got her out of that hospital. Then she kissed ME! All we ever did was play racquetball and talk."

"Then my advice to you is to keep playing racquetball and talking," said Donna. "If I could tell before this accident, then it was working for you then, too."

"I can't game her, Donna," objected Bob. "I like her."

"I'm not talking about that, you stupid flatfoot," snorted Donna. "I saw how you looked at her, too. She had you wrapped around her little finger."

"Donna," said Bob, exasperated now, "nobody was wrapping anything around anything else. We were just friends, I'm telling you!"

Donna looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Well, Bob, it looks like you're better friends now. She likes you ... you like her ... what's to complain about?"

"I don't know," said Bob, doubtfully. "It's like she doesn't really know what's going on. I feel like I'm taking advantage of her."

"And maybe she's the wolf, in sheep's clothing, waiting to eat you up. Go on out there and talk to her," said Donna, giving him a push. "I'll serve her something that will get you laid." She cackled and pushed him harder.

Donna's comment about Lacey gaming him, instead of the other way around, didn't sit well with Bob. It worried him. He'd met plenty of conmen, and conwomen in his days on the force. They had the same charisma that Lacey was now displaying. Before, she'd been pensive, withdrawn, and unhappy. She came alive when they battled on the court, and when they were relaxed and talking, but always under that was the pain.

Now, it was if the pain had vanished. She was a different woman. At the same time, she was still Lacey. He wondered if this was how she had been before the rape. At the same time, he wondered if it was all an act, to avoid responsibility for a murder.

She asked him all kinds of questions, during dinner, trying to fill in the gaps in her memory. The problem was that she asked questions for which there were no answers. He tried to tell the truth, whenever he could. He got very inventive when that was impossible.

"When was our first kiss?" she asked. "I remember loving it, but not where it was or what we were doing."

"It was on a day like today," he said, thinking furiously. "You'd been having difficulties, and I could see in your eyes that you needed a kiss. It was amazing."

Another time, it was a more bizarre turn.

"Have we been to the opera?" she asked, wiping her lips. "I remember being at The Barber Of Seville, and holding your hand. Was it your hand? Whose hand was it?"

"It must have been in college," said Bob. "Or maybe after that, but before we met. Sad to say, it wasn't me."

She had other false memories, but then there were the things that were completely genuine as well. She remembered what kind of ice cream he'd gotten at a little sidewalk cafe. He'd tried a new flavor, and it had been awful.

He saw her shoulders drooping lower, and called for the check.

On the way back to her apartment, she lay her head back on the headrest of her seat.

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