Jordan

CHAPTER 1

Sunday 6:00 PM

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Petra Simmons plucked the last truffle from the day’s sample tray and added it to the other chocolates in the white paper bag. She handed it to Lettie Hillier, an old friend of Petra’s deceased parents.

Lettie accepted it with a grin. Are you sure you kids are doing okay?

I miss them. Andy, Petra’s younger brother, stepped toward them.

Losing them still hurts, Petra said. But, yes. We’re fine. She gestured to the bag. Open it.

It crinkled when Lettie unfolded the top and looked inside. Laugh lines scrunched outward from her mouth when she smiled. She winked at Petra. Chili-pepper-shaped? That’s new. Thanks, Punkin.

You’re most welcome, Petra said. They’re infused with cayenne. Hope your husband enjoys them.

If they escape being eaten on the drive home. You kids take care, okay?

Will do. Andy held the shop’s glass door open for Lettie, grinned at her as she exited, then locked it.

Pushing her palms against her temples, Petra sighed.

The building shuddered slightly for a half-second.

Petra grabbed the counter. Did you feel that?

Yeah. He pointed skyward. Weird. Military jet going by? A sonic boom, maybe?

I didn’t hear any boom.

Me, either. Maybe it was too far away. Wasn’t very strong. He ambled toward her. We don’t get earthquakes. With a dramatic flourish, he took a wide stance and stretched his arms outward, as if waiting for the building to shake. After a few seconds, he went back to a normal stand. I think we’re good here. Why do you give Mrs. Hillier free chocolates?

Because she’s been so kind to us since Mom and Dad died, and she sends all her friends to me for their special occasions. At first, she argued with me about the freebies. I’m far more stubborn than she knew, and I won. So now she calls herself my taste tester. She wiped her brow and surveyed the mess around the seating area of three small round tables by the front windows. Wow. That was one hell of a last minute rush, huh? Grabbing the cleaning spray and sponge, she realized he hadn’t responded and turned. Andy?

He’d returned to the door, his back to her. There’s a strange chick on the plaza freaking everybody out. See? They’re all moving away.

Petra came from behind the counter and stood beside him.

A disheveled woman, her brown hair a rodent’s nest, sat staring at the sky, on the bench ledge of the hexagonal fountain twenty feet from Petra’s Kingdom of Chocolate shop. She wore a red T-shirt and blue jeans−both ripped and stained. Her entire body shook for several seconds, then she lowered her head.

The people nearest her shuffled further down the bench. A man with two toddlers in tow hustled them off the plaza.

Really, I can’t work up much interest, Petra said. Another homeless person. It’s sad, but too bad.

No, Andy said. There’s something different about her.

Andy often misjudged situations and people. Petra sighed. I don’t think so. She’s only another hard luck story.

She’s pretty.

No. She’s not, Petra said.

Look beyond the mess. Come on, let’s see if we can help her.

Please don’t. I’m so tired. I want to finish and go upstairs to relax.

Ignoring her, Andy unlocked the door and headed outside toward the woman. He gestured for Petra to join him.

She shot a glance heavenward. God grant me patience. She ventured out.

Reaching the homeless lady, Andy knelt to peer under the cascading hair. Are you okay?

The woman shook her head.

Nearing her, Petra found her younger than she’d assumed. Maybe thirty. And she did have attractive features under the unkempt locks.

Do you need help? Andy said.

His angelic expression of compassion tugged at Petra’s heart.

Apparently. The woman chuckled and swept the hair from her face.

Her voice also took Petra by surprise. The one-word reply was enunciated in a clear, sophisticated tone.

What happened? Andy asked. You look like you fell out of a tree.

She hesitated, then leveled her gaze at Petra. I really don’t know. I can’t remember anything. It’s all blank.

Her eyes were a golden brown, almost amber. Unusual and striking.

In her peripheral vision, Petra saw the three remaining people on the plaza, now sitting on an iron bench eating ice cream cones.

One of them pointed behind Andy and Petra, and the others’ eyes widened.

Petra twisted to see a small red fox sniffing and making its way, inch by inch, toward them. Andy, very slowly, look behind us. It’s an actual fox. Where did that come from?

He turned. That’s strange. Don’t make any sudden moves. Maybe it’s rabid.

No, the disheveled woman said. He’s not. He’s being friendly.

Petra glared at her. But, in fact, the fox was sniffing its way closer to them as a curious dog would. She didn’t like the oddity of it. I think we ought to go back inside.

All right, Andy said. Come with us, um . . . What’s your name?

Wait a minute. Petra grabbed Andy’s arm and pulled him about ten feet away.

The fox froze, then retreated a few yards.

Its posture reminded Petra of a spooked cat with its fur standing on end. Whispering, she said to Andy, Are you nuts? We’re not bringing this woman into my store. It’s closing time. I’m tired, and who the hell knows what kind of drug addict she could be?

We can’t leave her out here.

Sure we can. We’ll call security, and they’ll take care of getting her to someone who will help.

No. Andy gestured toward the woman. We should help. He went back.

You can be so infuriating sometimes, you know that? Unwilling to leave him alone with a possible lunatic, Petra joined him.

The woman was touching a purplish mark on her left palm. I don’t blame you. Look at me. She grinned and displayed her bruised arms. I’m a mess. Her eyes locked onto Petra’s.

A strange comforting feeling about this woman enveloped Petra—as though she were with a long-lost friend.

Help me up? She kept her right arm in the air.

Petra offered her a hand before Andy could. Come on. Can you stand?

We’ll find out. The woman gripped Petra’s hand and pulled herself up. She twisted her torso. Okay. Much better. I was so dizzy when I woke up.

Woke up? Where? Petra’s fingers spasmed and felt suddenly warm. The recurring fear that she’d inherited her father’s arthritis raced through her.

Right here. On the edge of the fountain. All I know is waking while sitting on it.

Were you tired when you sat down? Andy asked. Tired enough to fall asleep sitting upright on a concrete bench?

She gave him a blank stare, while seeming to ponder his question.

This is beyond strange, Petra said.

I agree, the woman said. I don’t like feeling this disoriented. She blinked. I’m sorry, I don’t know how I got here.

Petra’s resistance to her lessened. To her amazement, she felt a growing urge to do as Andy suggested—help her. My name is Petra Simmons, and this is my brother, Andy.

Hello. She pushed on and patted her legs, then her ribs. No broken bones, it seems. I’m relatively unscathed.

What’s your name? Andy said.

The woman’s mouth screwed up to one side. I haven’t a clue.

The feeling the stranger wasn’t a threat, and was, in fact, someone innocent, grew stronger. Tell you what. I live on the second floor over the shops. Petra pointed behind her. See? That bay window is in my living room. Let us take you there. You can get cleaned up, and I’ll lend you some clothes.

Andy gave her a shocked expression, then smiled. That’s a great idea. To the woman he said, Don’t worry. We’re good people.

She nodded. I know.

"And . . . how do you know?" Petra said.

She shrugged. I don’t know.

It seemed the woman was thinking the same way as Petra. Producing a key from the back pocket of her jeans, Petra handed it to Andy. Will you lock up, then come upstairs? We can do the tally and cleaning later. And bring my phone and purse, too?

Grinning, he took the key, pivoted, and strode to the shop.

That startled the fox, but didn’t stop him from edging closer.

A huge black blur swooped in, nipped the fox on the head, then settled on a nearby tree branch.

The fox yelped and scrambled into the thicket of cocoa-plum shrubs at the edge of the plaza’s parking lot, now backlit by the transitioning oranges, reds, pinks, and lavenders of sunset.

Did you see that? Petra glanced around.

The three people finishing their ice cream cones nodded, looking dumbstruck.

I have never seen a fox out in the open like that. Or a buzzard attacking a live animal. Petra spoke to the ice cream folks. That was a turkey vulture, wasn’t it?

One of them responded with a weak shrug.

Wow. Freaky animal day. Petra gestured toward the alley between the two three-story buildings of the retail complex. The apartment entry is in that causeway.

They walked in silence to the entrance. Petra used a passkey to unlock the residence lobby door, held it open for her, then pressed the elevator button.

Petra studied her as they rode up one flight. Long hair, in tangled waves, fell to her waist. Her T-shirt had grass stains along with mud, as did her jeans. She wore a ripped and frayed pair of canvas sneakers that Petra assumed were once white.

The doors opened, and the women turned right, going to the end of the hall.

I was lucky enough to get an end unit, Petra said while inserting her key. Lots of windows. They went inside.

It’s beautiful. The woman wandered around the combined living and dining space, stopping at the wide bay window facing the plaza and its fountain. She gestured to the open kitchen and the granite island that separated it from the living area. There are four barstools. Do other people live here with you?

No. I live alone. My boyfriend is here a lot, though, and my brother stays fairly often. Petra walked to the short hall off the kitchen leading to the two bedrooms and a guest bathroom. I imagine you’re anxious to get that dirt off you. You look like you’re around my size. A six? She opened her bedroom door and went in.

Another shrug. Guess we’ll find out. The woman leaned against the doorframe while Petra gathered some clothing for her.

A stab of doubt hit Petra. What was she doing inviting this complete stranger into her home?

You’re being so kind. Thank you. The woman touched Petra’s hand before taking the neat pile, then entered the bathroom.

In an instant, the negative thoughts disappeared—replaced by that comforting feeling again. Petra shook her head to clear it. You’ll find everything you need either in the tall cabinet or in the drawers next to the sink.

***

Petra was in the kitchen perusing the freezer when Andy came in.

How is the mystery girl? He tossed the shop key into the raku pottery bowl on the entry table and placed Petra’s purse on the counter. We left the store a mess, and I should have stayed to clean it, but I’m too curious about her.

Still can’t remember her name. She’s in the shower. Petra shut the freezer. I’ll order pizza. She grabbed her cell from her purse. But first, I’m calling Ben.

Is he on duty tonight?

Yes. When Ben picked up, she filled him in on the woman in her bathroom.

What’d he say? Andy asked after she put the phone down.

It’s a slow Sunday night, so he’ll come over himself.

The bathroom door opened. Her guest emerged, smelling of fresh flowers. Clean, her skin was flawless.

Andy let out a small gasp, and Petra knew he was smitten. That was probably not good.

The woman smiled and pulled at the black tank top. A little tight, but thank you so much. She held up a hairbrush. I couldn’t get all the knots out. Would you mind trying? It might be easier because you can see them. She came to stand in front of Petra, handed her the brush, and turned around.

With an inward shrug, Petra accepted the brush and worked through the first of the tangles. My boyfriend is a Sheriff’s Deputy. I’ve asked him to come over. Maybe he’ll be able to help you.

CHAPTER 2

Sunday 7:00 PM

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Andy, Petra, and her mystery guest sat on the two overstuffed white sofas that faced each other in her living room. They’d tried several word association games in hopes of sparking a memory, but it didn’t work. Eventually, they settled into an awkward silence. Andy’s obvious difficulty in not staring at the stranger concerned Petra.

The pizzas waited in their boxes in the oven.

When Petra met Ben at the Chamber breakfast three months earlier, she first spoke to him in the buffet line. Ben was around six-foot with dark hair, hazel eyes, and thick, long lashes. She’d checked his left hand while he spooned eggs onto his plate and felt a jump of excitement at seeing no ring.

After she’d found a seat, he came along a minute later and asked if the chair beside her was taken. She invited him to sit, and they exchanged pleasantries while Petra pretended it was no big deal for such a hot guy to pay attention to her. He made her chuckle with an only-in-Boca Raton story about a car accident he’d worked the day before. It was a fender-bender between a Maserati sedan and a Ferrari, and the Maserati owner had her personal assistant scurry on foot to a nearby coffee shop for lattes while they waited for Ben to finish up.

They went on their first date that weekend—dinner and a movie—that ended with a chaste kiss. By the second date, a fund-raiser evening for a local art museum, she was anxious to see him again. She found out he was an only child, and his parents, too, were deceased. They understood each other’s losses. He was Jewish, but hadn’t been to a temple since his teens. She was Protestant, but her family was the Christmas-and-Easter-only type. By the time he drove her back to her apartment, she was wrestling with whether or not to sleep with him. She wanted to. But after a longer, deeper kiss that resonated down to her toes and revived long-dormant lusty desires, he said he had to work the next day, and left.

When the intercom buzzer sounded, Petra jumped out of her memory and her seat to hit the button allowing Ben into the building. While she waited at the door, the thrill of their third date came back. The building tension between them exploded, and they’d had an amazing night in bed. She had grave misgivings about getting involved with a cop, but she couldn’t fight the strong attraction between them.

A couple minutes later, the knock came.

He was in uniform, of course, and carried a laptop bag. Got here as soon as I could. Hey, Andy.

Hi, Ben, Andy rose from the sofa.

No kiss? Petra said.

Giving her sheepish look, Ben nodded toward the stranger. I have to look professional. He gave her a huge smile.

That sent a warm rush through her, and she felt her face redden. The last time she saw him, he was gorgeously naked in her bed. This is our mystery girl. And this is Ben Nathan

Ben nodded toward the woman. Here to help if I can. Petra says you don’t remember anything about yourself?

The woman shook her head. Unfortunately, no.

We’re starving, Petra said. But we waited so you could join us. Do you mind if we sit at the table and eat while you do your thing? She pointed to the maple table, already set for four.

No. Please tell me it’s normal pizza this time?

Normal pizza? Andy moved to the kitchen and donned oven mitts.

She’s been into weird combinations lately. The last time we had pizza together, she ordered some chicken thing. It was horrible. Had broccoli on it.

Petra rolled her eyes. He doesn’t like vegetables much. One is pepperoni, and the other is sausage and peppers.

Andy brought the hot boxes to the table and set them on a pile of extra placemats. The others each claimed a seat.

Dig in. Petra glanced at the woman. I assumed you liked pizza. Do you remember if you do?

She grinned. Smells good.

Ben opened his laptop, then helped himself to a slice of pepperoni. We have a database of local missing person cases. We may get lucky and find you in it. He stared at the woman. Hmmm. He wiped his hands on a napkin, typed and waited, scrolled, then typed and waited a bit more. Huh.

What? Petra said. Is she in there?

Nodding, Ben took out his phone. Could be. To the woman, he said, May I take your picture? And, with your permission, may I send it to someone?

Maybe. She set down her slice and wiped her mouth. To whom?

Three years ago, a local woman disappeared. There’s a strong resemblance, but in all her pictures, she’s wearing heavy makeup. Her parents would know what she looked like without makeup. Like you are now.

I suppose it’s the only way I’ll find out who I am.

This is exciting, Petra said.

Ben held up his phone, exposing an angry, bumpy red scar on the underside of his left arm.

Petra knew the scar was from a fight during his teen years, but not much more.

Ooh. The woman reached and touched the scar. That must have hurt. She stroked her fingers back and forth across its ridges.

Not liking that move one bit, Petra grabbed her hand and held it tight, giving it a reassuring shake. It’s an old injury. Doesn’t hurt any more. Right, Ben?

Uh. Yeah. He seemed nonplussed as he snapped the picture. He slid his chair backward. I’m going to make a call. Be back in a few.

Watching him go out the door, Petra felt a strong pang of lust.

The woman smiled. He’s strong and kind. And he desires you.

How can you tell? Andy asked.

The woman gave them an apologetic grin.

You don’t know, Petra and Andy said in unison.

I’m trying to recall who went missing locally, Andy said to Petra. From the news three years ago. Do you remember anything like that?

Petra finished her second slice of sausage and pepper pizza and pushed her plate away. You’d think we would.

Ben reentered, gazing at his phone. You’re in luck, Miss. They say you are their daughter. He scratched his head. Amazing. It’s never this easy.

That’s great, Petra said, turning to her guest. Isn’t it?

I hope so.

So, who is she? Petra said.

Can’t divulge that yet. Positive ID has to be made, procedures followed. All that sort of thing.

What happens now? Andy said.

I take her to the sub-station. Her probable parents are on their way there.

Can Petra and Andy come with me? she asked. Please? They’re the only friends I’ve got at the moment.

Sure. Andy bounded from his chair. Of course we will.

Thinking it wasn’t such a hot idea for Andy to go along, and not wanting Ben alone in a car with the pretty visitor, Petra shook her head. I’ll take her. If that’s okay, Ben? That way I’ll have a way home. But, Andy—if you will—please stay here and clean up the shop for me?

Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll drive her? Andy said.

Petra glanced at the woman. I’ve got the feeling this is a time for female friends. She walked to Andy. I need to talk to you privately. Flashing a smile at Ben, she said, Be back in a second. She led Andy into her bedroom and shut the door.

What’s your problem? Andy asked with a look of defiance.

Your infatuation with her. Petra put her hands on her hips. We don’t know anything about her, do we? What if she’s married? Has kids? I’m worried you’ll get hurt again.

The muscles in his face relaxed. He nodded. Those are fair points. But you’ll tell me whatever you find out, right?

CHAPTER 3

Sunday 8:30 PM

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I didn’t want to ask in front of your brother. The woman, riding in the front passenger seat of Petra’s Toyota, stared straight ahead. But why are you so protective of him?

It’s that plain to see? Petra sighed. He’s my little brother. My only sibling.

Something happened to your parents. Something tragic.

Unnerved by the matter-of-fact tone the woman used, Petra wondered how she knew about it. Was this mystery person some psycho who was faking amnesia for attention? She could have read about Petra and Andy’s parents’ accident in the papers. The rough asphalt under the tires filled the car with a low humming sound that reminded Petra of car trips in her childhood, and a wave of sorrow enveloped her. They passed away.

It feels like it wasn’t too long ago. The woman turned to gaze at Petra. I’m sorry.

Look. Petra gave her a hard glare while fighting back tears. Any mention of her parents made her insides feel ripped and raw. I don’t know how you know about them, but it’s none of your business. No offense.

I don’t have any idea what the tragedy was, and I certainly don’t mean to pry.

Petra softened a bit. My biggest concern now is Andy. After our parents died, his fiancée broke off their engagement. Took an already fragmented soul and shattered him.

Poor guy. How old was he?

Twenty-five. That was two years ago. You probably observed he’s attracted to you.

It would have been hard not to notice. She smiled. He is a very handsome man.

I pointed out that you might be married and have kids. Petra hit the turn signal and slowed to take a left into the sub-station’s parking lot.

Huh. She rubbed her chin. It doesn’t feel like I have kids. And, if I had a husband, wouldn’t he be the one coming to the sheriff’s station?

All the same, if you are single, please refuse to go out with Andy. I don’t think he’s ready for it yet.

I could be a married woman. Laughing, she threw her hands up. How weird would that be? She gasped. You know, I don’t even know if I’ve had sex. Or if I have, do I like it?

Petra smirked. I’ve got an inkling you do.

What if these people aren’t my parents? I have nowhere to go. Can I stay with you? Temporarily.

Not knowing what she thought about that at the moment, Petra pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. First, tell me the truth. You really can’t remember anything? Anything at all? I’d be scared to death. You don’t seem the least bit worried or upset.

It’s the absolute truth, and I’m not scared. I don’t understand it, but I know somehow I’ll be okay.

Let’s see what’s what inside.

I wonder what they’re like. The woman got out of the car. If I look like them. What if they’re alcoholics or drug addicts?

I’m sure they’re very nice.

Entering the front of the sub-station, the harsh fluorescent ceiling lights were too much after coming in from the dark night. Petra and her amnesiac were the only ones in the small reception room.

To the right, behind a sliding window, a black woman in a deputy’s uniform sat working on a computer. She looked up. Can I help you?

Yes, Petra said. We’re supposed to meet Ben, I mean, Officer Nathan here. My name is Petra Simmons.

I’ll let him know you’re here. Have a seat.

Petra walked to the row of chairs lining the far wall where her guest had already taken a seat and appeared intent on a People magazine.

A minute later, a door to her left opened, and Ben poked his head into the reception room. Come with me, please.

Petra stood up with the woman.

No, Ben said. Petra, you’ll have to wait here. Sorry.

She watched her love interest usher the pretty woman inside.

***

When Petra got home, she found Andy stretched out on one sofa with a news channel blaring on the TV.

He hit the off button on the remote, sat up, and stared at her. Well?

They were her parents. She placed her purse on a barstool and opened the fridge, taking out a diet cola. Her name is Jordan Crissman. She’s thirty-three. Not married. Her parents must be loaded, because they live in Boca Hills Country Club. Putting the soda on the coffee table, she plopped onto the sofa opposite Andy.

Snobby Hills, huh? What were they like?

Remember the party we delivered that huge custom chocolates order to, about six months ago? It was in Boca Hills. Her parents seem like that couple. Stiff smiles. I addressed them as Mr. and Mrs. Crissman when we met, and they didn’t offer any first names. But I don’t know, all I did was say hello to them for a minute. Maybe they were too stunned by Jordan coming back. I wasn’t in the room when they had their reunion, but they came out dabbing their eyes with tissues. They thanked me, and asked me to thank you as well. So, it seems everybody’s happy now.

Guess we’ll never know. He tilted his head backward, seeming to have a sudden interest in the ceiling fan.

She took a sip of soda. The cold condensation dripped onto her stomach, and she used her T-shirt to wipe the bottom of the can. I gave her my cell number. Maybe she’ll keep in touch.

You’ll probably think this is strange, Andy said. For some reason, I can’t keep Mom and Dad out of my thoughts tonight.

Well, try harder. Seeing him frown, she softened her approach. Not now, okay? I’m tired, and if we talk about them, it’ll keep me from sleeping.

CHAPTER 4

Wednesday 7:00 AM

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Three days later, Petra’s cell rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but picked it up.

It’s me . . . Jordan. She seemed to stumble over her name.

Hi, Petra said. How’s it going? Your family must be thrilled to have you back, huh?

I suppose. They’re nice.

Well. That’s terrific.

I guess.

There was a long pause. Petra didn’t know what to say and began formulating excuses to hang up.

Can you come meet me for coffee? Jordan said. There’s a Boca Mocha in the Hills Reserve shopping plaza right outside my parents’ development.

She glanced at her watch. She didn’t need to open the shop until ten. Okay. I won’t be able to stay very long, though. I’m a working girl, remember?

That’s fine. I’ll be there in half an hour. Is that all right?

See you then. Petra hung up and placed the phone in her purse, wondering why she’d agreed. Something about Jordan seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t figure out what. There was also that feeling of warmth when she was near. It wasn’t easy to label—a flow of goodwill coursing through her? A sense of peace?

***

Jordan was seated at a small iron fret-work table outside the coffee shop. As Petra approached, she noticed a squirrel sat at Jordan’s feet, nibbling on something in its paws.

Good morning, Jordan said, while looking at the fuzzy gray animal. She tore away another tuft of muffin and put it on the concrete in front of the squirrel. Can you believe how tame this little guy is? She laughed, clearly delighted. He came right to me as soon as I sat down a minute ago.

I’m not sure I’ve seen one quite that brave before. Petra noted that