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A Thanksgiving To Remember. Margaret Watson
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Автор произведения Margaret Watson
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
Издательство HarperCollins
Tom managed to nod. He was beginning to get a really bad feeling from Detective Jones.
“There was a big masquerade ball here at the Grand Springs Empress Hotel last night. It was thrown by Jonathan Steele, CEO of Steele Enterprises. At this ball, Steele’s half brother David and his wife Lisa were shot and killed. Two people ran out of the hotel and drove away. You were one of them. We found you by the side of the road, half an hour later. Your car had gone off the road and rolled over.”
The detective gave him a hard look. “So you can see why we want to talk to you. We want to know who you are. And why you ran out of that ball.”
“I’d like to know that myself.” Tom held the detective’s gaze, although his head throbbed with pain. “When I remember, you’ll be the first to know.”
Jones’s hard, assessing gaze stayed on him for what felt like a long time, then he nodded. “I’ll be back to talk to you later, when we get more information. In the meantime, don’t think about leaving town.”
Before Tom could answer, Tina stepped in front of him and faced Detective Jones. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now, Detective,” she said, and Tom heard the steel in her voice. “Mr. Flynt has a serious injury and I won’t allow you to badger him.”
A wave of gratitude welled up inside Tom, but he couldn’t allow himself to look at Tina. He continued to watch the detective. “It’s all right, Ms. White. Detective Jones can ask all the questions he wants.”
“I’m through for now,” Jones answered, but his stony gaze swept from Tom to Tina and back. “But I’ll be back.”
He turned and walked out of the room. When he was finally gone, Tina turned back to him. “How dare he imply that you’re somehow connected to that murder?”
Tom shrugged. “He’s looking at the evidence, and so far it would seem to support that. Apparently since I ran out of the ball after the shooting, that makes me a suspect in his eyes.”
“No one, including you, knows why you ran out of that room,” Tina said flatly. “I thought a person is innocent until proven guilty.”
“He’s just doing his job,” Tom answered quietly.
Before Tina could respond, another man walked into the room. Rugged and broad shouldered, his gray eyes were just as penetrating as Detective Jones’s. He glanced at Tina, then examined Tom thoroughly.
“Your partner just left.” Tom couldn’t have said why he thought this man was a police officer, but he was sure of it.
The blond man gave him a quick grin. “For a guy who’s lost his memory, you’re pretty good at identifying cops.”
Tom shrugged uneasily, unsure of why he’d been so certain of the other man’s occupation. “Just a guess.”
“And a good one.” The man came to a stop next to the bed and held out his hand. “Stone Richardson. I’m a detective with the Grand Springs Police Department. I’m working on the Steele murder case.”
Tina waited for Tom to shake the detective’s hand, then stepped closer to the bed, sliding between him and the detective. “Your colleague was just here,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “He asked Mr. Flynt a number of questions, which he couldn’t answer. There’s no point in asking him again.”
Stone Richardson held up his hands. “Whoa, I’m not here to ask Mr. Flynt the same questions. And I’m sorry if Bob upset you. I know he can come on a little too strong sometimes. That’s just his style.” He hesitated, then said, “The nurses said you seem to have a case of complete amnesia—you can’t remember a thing. I wanted to talk to you to see if there was anything I could do to help.”
“That’s kind of you, Detective,” Tom said slowly. “But I’m not sure what you could do, unless you recognize me.”
Stone shook his head. “Never saw you before in my life. But your situation reminds me of a case I worked on in Grand Springs a few years ago. One of the witnesses in that case had amnesia, too.”
“Did he get his memory back?” Tom asked eagerly.
“Eventually.”
“But it would help you with this case if I got my memory back a lot more quickly than eventually.” Tom didn’t take his eyes off the detective.
“Yes, but I know you can’t push it. I just thought there might be something I could do.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Tom answered quietly, “but I’m not sure what that would be. I’ll let you know as soon as I remember anything.”
Stone nodded. “I’ll stop by regularly and let you know if we find any new information.” He turned to look at Tina. “And just for the record, I do believe he’s innocent unless and until I prove him guilty.”
He turned around and walked out the door before either of them could say anything. Finally Tom said, “Thank you, Ms. White.”
“For what?”
“For defending me to Detectives Richardson and Jones. You have no idea if I’m guilty or not.”
Her eyes flashed blue fire. “And neither do they. But Jones was assuming you were.”
“You have to admit, if I did what they’re saying I did, it looks pretty suspicious.”
“There could have been a number of reasons you ran out of the hotel,” Tina said hotly. “Maybe you’re a police officer. Maybe you were trying to catch the killer.”
“If I were a police officer here in Grand Springs, don’t you think Jones and Richardson would know it?”
She looked away. “All right, maybe you’re not a Grand Springs police officer. But that doesn’t mean you’re guilty of something.”
“Why are you defending me like this, Ms. White?” he asked, his heart suddenly pounding. “You don’t know me, either.”
“Someone has to defend you.” She looked at him again, and he could see the conviction in her eyes. “Until they find your family, there’s no one else to speak for you.”
“Thank you,” he said, moved by her words. “That’s very generous.”
“You don’t look like a criminal. And you don’t act like one, either.”
“What does a criminal look like?” Tom felt his mouth curving into a smile.
“Not like you,” Tina answered immediately.
“I want to know the truth,” he said. “Even if the truth is that I was involved in this crime. I want to know who I am, even if it means I’m a criminal.”
“That’s why I defended you.” Tina bent closer, staring into his eyes. “A criminal wouldn’t want that. A criminal would be trying to hide the truth. A criminal would be looking to shift the blame to someone else. Only a person with integrity would say that he wanted to know the truth, regardless of the circumstances.”
Lost in the deep blue of Tina’s eyes, Tom could almost believe she was speaking the truth. Almost. But he couldn’t allow himself to believe it.
“It doesn’t matter what the truth is. I want to know it,” he said. “And if there is anything I can do to speed up the return of my memory, I’ll do it.”
“Dr. Wilson ordered a neurological exam,” Tina said. “The neurologist will probably stop by this afternoon. We should know more after she looks at you.”
Tom shut his eyes, suddenly very tired. When he opened them a few moments later, Tina was still standing above him, watching him with a worried look on her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I