Memory Reload Page 5
“Are you always right?”
“Always,” she replied with absolute certainty. “My turn. How did you manage to shower and get dressed in such a short time?”
“Military training. Heck, anything over five minutes is considered downright leisurely.” He held out one hand to her. “Now, how about that breakfast?”
He led her out the front door and handed her into the passenger seat of a cherry-red Corvette convertible.
“Nice little car.” She watched as he buckled his seat belt and turned the ignition key. The engine came to life with a powerful rumble.
“Jamie’s.”
“Ah, all part of the vacation package?”
Ryan nodded, slipped on a pair of RayBan Wayfarer sunglasses and nudged the stick shift into first gear. As they pulled onto the road, he launched into the story of his first stay on the island.
He kept her entertained all the way to the little restaurant and all through the meal.
For a brief period, she was able to pretend everything was normal.
Chapter Four
Ryan had run through the better part of his repertoire, regaling AJ with carefully sanitized stories of his childhood. It seemed to work. She had actually eaten some fresh fruit and even looked a bit relaxed until they got back into the car.
Now silence fell as they headed for Honolulu. He flipped on the radio, filling the quiet with KNUI’s Hawaiian music. An ad for a photo finisher came on between songs.
AJ cleared her throat. “You mentioned getting the exposed film developed. Do you have a lab in mind?”
“None in particular. With all the tourist trade there’s bound to be a slew of those one-hour places. We can drop the stuff off at one of them.” He glanced at her in time to catch her grimace of distaste. “What?”
Her hands tightened on the camera bag. “Nothing. I’m sure that would be…”
“Like flossing with razor wire.” He reached over and covered her white-knuckled hands. “Scratch the one-hour place. We can stop and check the phone book for professional labs. Maybe one of them will sound familiar.”
“That’s assuming I ever used one or, if I did, that I’ll remember which one it was.”
“Don’t fret yourself. It’s possible you might remember. I did a little Web surfing while you were in the shower, found some information about amnesia. From what I found, the kind of amnesia you have is called psychogenic amnesia.”
“And that means what?”
“It means, sugar, that the memories aren’t really lost, just sort of hidden for the time being.”
“Like a drawn curtain.” She leaned forward a little, hope lighting her face. “So, I’ll remember everything? My name, where I live, all that?”
“Maybe.” He didn’t want to get her hopes up too high. While the research said the amnesia might only last a few hours, it could also last years. “One of the articles said hypnosis or free association might help trigger memories. That’s why looking through the yellow pages isn’t such a crazy idea. You might see a name that’s familiar.”
She nodded and leaned back into the seat, nibbling on her lip in thought.
“Once we get your film taken care of proper like, then we can do a little shopping. Cute as you look in my clothes, I don’t imagine they’re particularly comfortable.” The discomfort was probably mostly his. Every time he thought of the way his shirt draped—he squashed the image before it fully formed. To distract himself, he launched into another story about one of his early visits to the island.
AJ visibly relaxed, watching the scenery flow by as they sped toward Honolulu. As they neared the city, she opened her camera bag, checked her equipment and began sorting through the canisters of exposed film.
Ryan eased up on the accelerator as the city traffic began building around them. AJ glanced up. “Take the next exit. At the stoplight, take a right.”
He opened his mouth then closed it again. She was busy digging through her bag, and he decided not to interrupt her. This might be the beginning of the breakthrough they needed. He wasn’t about to jinx it by asking her a pile of questions.
He made the turn, scooting through the intersection as the light changed from yellow to red. She directed him through a few more turns before telling him to pull over.
“Park in the next block. It’s up ahead a little ways.”
He parked the ’Vette, turned off the ignition and waited, watching her, wondering how she’d react to their surroundings.
She rearranged a few loose items in the camera bag then snapped it shut. When she finally looked at him, Ryan raised one eyebrow.
“What?” Confusion clouded her expression.
“What’s up ahead?”
“The lab.”
“What lab?”
“The film lab that does all…my….” Her voice trailed off on a breathy oh. She twisted in her seat, checking out the surrounding area.
Her directions had taken them away from the busy downtown area to the Kaimuki area. Here, a mix of neighborhood shops lined the street. Out of the tourist path, the merchandise displayed in these store windows catered to everyday life and the needs of the nearby residents. He’d be hard-pressed to find a puka bead necklace or picture postcard anywhere in the vicinity.
He held silent and waited. It took her a bit, but she did continue.
“This is where I get my film developed. They do custom printing for me, too. There’s a little shop in front where they sell supplies, but their main business is processing and printing.” Her voice faded to a whisper. She rubbed her forehead and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “How’d I remember that when I can’t remember my own name?”
“Don’t fight it. The research said you’d remember basic functions. Getting film processed would be pretty basic for a photographer. Let’s take anything that slips through and run with it. Are there any names attached to this place?”
“Uncle Kimo?” She lifted her hands in a questioning gesture.
“Good. Let’s go see if Uncle Kimo can give us some information.”
AJ laid her hand over his as he reached for the keys. Something tightened deep inside. Something he wanted to ignore but couldn’t. Not as long as she touched him. He pulled the keys from the ignition and broke the contact with her hand.
“Ryan, I can’t waltz in there and say ‘Hi, guys, what’s my name?’ That’s a sure bet for getting me hauled off to the loony bin. Or worse, what if I’m wrong and whatever I’m hiding from is linked to this shop?”
“You got a point there.” Ryan tugged at his earlobe. “Do you think you can help me pull off a little undercover investigation?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You go in first. Just act normal, take your cue from their reactions. I’ll come in a minute later. If there’s any hostility, get out. Otherwise, you do your business and when you leave, I’ll see what they’ll tell me.”
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“Hey, I do this for a living.” He was none too sure himself, but no sense telling her that.
“What if it doesn’t work? What if they don’t tell you anything?”
“Now don’t go borrowin’ trouble. If they don’t give me any information, we’ll come back when your film’s ready and see what that tells us.” He gave her an encouraging smile and nodded toward the car door. “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”
“One minute?”
“That’s all. You can time me.” He winked and she rewarded him with a half smile before she got out of the car. He glanced at his watch and scanned the surrounding area. Pedestrian traffic was light. A few import sedans, minivans and a Jeep or two were parked at random intervals up and down the street. Everything looked mostly normal.
When AJ entered the shop, he strolled after her. He stopped to check out the large display window. Gold lettering arched across the glass, proclaiming Kimo Kealoha—Photography Services. The words formed a perfect frame for the reflection of the coffee shop ac
ross the street and the nondescript, dark blue sedan parked in front of it. A child’s stuffed toys littered the car’s dashboard. Ryan’s mental radar blipped. Something wasn’t quite right.
He tried to shrug off the sensation. Ever since he’d talked to Jamie he’d been running on yellow alert. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be seeing spooks behind every bush.
A bell jangled overhead as a teenage girl exited the photo shop. Ryan slipped through the door before it swung closed. He wandered in, nodded to the man behind the counter and began browsing. Tucking his sunglasses in the neck of his T-shirt, he kept an eye on the street while keeping an ear on the conversation between the shop clerk and AJ.
“I’ve only got a few rolls of film, but I’m anxious to see how they turn out.” The quaver in AJ’s voice was barely noticeable.
The man behind the counter laughed. “When aren’t you in a hurry?” His grizzled gray hair and rounded shape made him look like an overgrown elf. His voice matched the image. “And don’t we always rush your stuff?”
“And don’t I always appreciate your rushing my stuff?” Laughter eased a little of the tension from her voice. Ryan glanced her way just in time to see the dimple in her left cheek, near the corner of her mouth. He hadn’t seen it before. He’d like to see it again.
The man shook his head as he began sorting the film canisters and writing out work-order tickets. “Some haole was in here looking for you earlier. Funny looking man, all dressed up in a dark suit and a very ugly tie.”
“Really?” AJ’s voice squeaked and Kimo paused in his scribbling to look at her. Ryan turned away to peruse a film display, doing everything he could to look disinterested in their topic of conversation as he worked his way around the store to have a better view of them.
Kimo continued after a short hesitation. “He was tall, skinny. Bad skin, eyes so pale, I’m not sure they had any real color. Seemed to think you’d be in sometime today. Guess he was right. Do you know him?”
AJ shook her head. “I don’t think so. He asked for me by name?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean much, now that you’re starting to make a name for yourself—” He stopped in midsentence, holding up two canisters and shaking them at her. “You just picked this high-speed film up yesterday.” He pointed at another canister. “That infrared, too. Don’t tell me you stayed out all night shooting your experiment just so you could include it in the opening?”
AJ’s eyes widened and she shrugged.
“Ya gotta slow down, girl. You’re so busy shooting the island’s beauty, you never see it. When you get done with that show, promise Uncle Kimo you’ll take some time to look around you, without a camera in the way.”
“Okay, Uncle Kimo. I promise.”
“Maybe I could believe you if I didn’t know you so well. But I do.” Kimo shook his head and returned to writing the work orders. “I’d talk to David if I thought it’d do any good, but it wouldn’t. You and he are too alike to be together so much.”
The color drained from AJ’s face. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip. Kimo never looked up from his task so he missed her reaction.
“It was different when Justin was still alive.” Regret colored Kimo’s words. “He balanced you two. But now all either one of you do is work, work, work. That’s no kind of life.”
It didn’t take a genius to see how much the mention of the two men’s names had shaken her. Ryan took a step toward AJ but stopped at the tiny shake of her head.
“How soon can I see these?” Her voice cracked and Kimo pinned her with a stern look.
“Tomorrow. You go rest, before you collapse.”
AJ opened her mouth, but closed it again without voicing a protest.
Ryan decided it was time to move in. He walked over beside AJ, smiling at her as he leaned sideways against the counter, facing her. “Hi.”
“Hello.” She gave him a once-over. The slight pause seemed to give her enough time to regroup. She turned her attention back to Kimo. “It’s still early. Are you sure I can’t see that film today?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. At nine.”
“Ten and not a minute before. Go home.” Kimo glanced at Ryan. “And watch out for strangers.”
She shook her head at Kimo, looked Ryan up and down one more time.
He straightened away from the counter and watched, fascinated as a blush tinted her high cheekbones. He winked at her and her blush darkened before she turned on her heel and left the store. The bell jangled as the door closed behind her.
“Can I help you?” Kimo was all business. The laughter he’d shared with AJ clearly didn’t extend to a stranger.
Ryan dragged his attention from AJ’s retreating figure and turned back to the counter. “Nice lady. Are you really her uncle?”
Kimo waved a hand in the air. “I watch out for her. It’s a responsibility I take very seriously.” His midnight-dark eyes stared at Ryan, taking his measure and warning him all in one look. “You’re a bit off the tourist track. Where can I give you directions to?”
“Nowhere, really. I’m staying with a friend up on the north shore and thought I’d explore some of the neighborhoods.” Ryan smiled his easy, not-to-worry smile. “Do you have any of those disposable cameras? I hear they work pretty good.”
Kimo pulled one from the shelf behind him and thumped it onto the counter. “That’ll be $15.85. Anything else?”
Ryan grinned as he tossed a twenty onto the counter. “Any chance you’d give me the lady’s name.”
“None. But if you’re really interested, she’s got a show going up at a gallery in a couple weeks. If you’re around that long, you could look her up then.”
“Sounds good. Which gallery?”
“If you’re still around, I’ll tell you then.”
“Fair enough. Something tells me she’s worth sticking around for.” He picked up two store business cards from the small seashell card holder on the counter and tucked one into his shirt pocket. He flipped the other over and wrote on the back, before handing it to Kimo. “If she happens to ask, will you give this to her?”
Kimo read the note on the card and looked back at Ryan. “Pretty confident, aren’t you?”
“It never hurts to be optimistic.”
The two men stared at each other for a moment, then Ryan tapped the counter with his camera and left the store.
He paused as the door swung shut behind him. Worth sticking around for, huh? Now wasn’t the time to delve into that thought. Sliding his sunglasses back on, he scanned the street, then sauntered back to the ’Vette where AJ waited for him.
“Did he tell you anything?” She slid into the passenger seat and turned to face him. Her voice fairly vibrated with excitement.
As he sat next to her in the driver’s seat, he noticed a lanky-looking man in an ill-fitting black suit leave the coffee shop carrying a small brown paper bag, but no coffee cup.
“Not much. You have a show going up at a gallery in a couple weeks.” He reached for the ignition, but stopped with the key halfway in the slot. His yellow-alert status bumped up to red.
The coffee-shop patron was unlocking the passenger door of the navy sedan.
“My show? I’m having a show? Where? What gallery?”
Ryan watched the man get in and duck out of sight.
“Well now. Don’t that beat all?” The man reappeared, got out of the car and locked the door.
“What?” AJ looked around. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”
Ryan nodded across the street. “Does the man crossing the street look familiar?”
AJ watched him tuck the brown paper bag under his arm and jog across the street to another nondescript sedan, this one a dark green. “No. Should he?”
“Tall, skinny, couldn’t quite tell about his skin, but you must admit, that was one ugly tie.”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “You think that’s the man Uncle Kimo mentioned?”
“I’ll bet dinner out they’re one and the same. Are you ready for a little fun?” He smiled at her. The ’Vette’s ignition turned over and the engine hummed to life.
“What kind of fun?”
“Keep an eye on Ole Slim.” Ryan pulled away from the curb. “We’re going to follow him for a tad and see where he takes us.”
“Why are we doing that?”
He debated telling her for a moment. The stakeout might be totally unrelated to her situation. Or she may know exactly what it was all about. Either way, it wouldn’t hurt to let her know he was aware of what was going on around them. “Well, I figure if he’s interested enough in you to stake out the lab, then we should be interested enough in him to see where he’s heading.”
The sports car responded to his gentle nudge on the accelerator and leaped forward. Within a few blocks they’d caught up with the sedan. Only one car separated them. Ryan followed the sedan through several intersections and around a couple turns, letting other cars come and go between them.
They headed through downtown and into an industrial-park section. Ryan muttered to himself. Rather than enjoying the thrill of the chase, he was more worried about being made. Tailing someone in a cherry-red ’Vette wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. The other driver hadn’t given any indication that he’d noticed them. Yet.
Traffic thinned and the last car between them turned onto a side street, leaving them with no cover. Whatever the guy’s next turn was, they’d have to continue on. He memorized the sedan’s license plate. Later, he’d have the Bureau run it, see if it provided any useful information.
“Time to call it a morning.” Ryan tapped the blinker lever to take the turn at the T-intersection they were approaching. He stopped to let the oncoming traffic clear out of the way.
The sedan continued through the intersection, turned in the opposite direction without signaling and drove through a gap in a high chain-link gate.
Ryan completed his turn, pulled to the curb and studied the rearview mirror. As soon as the sedan cleared the sidewalk, a gate rolled closed behind it. A large sign on the gate warned away trespassers and proclaimed the fenced complex to be private property.