It was a damn strange feeling to walk into your own apartment and not recognize a thing, Luke thought as he glanced around the tiny place with a sense of déjà vu. He'd had this same feeling when Sarah had taken him home a couple of months ago.
This place had none of the warmth or feeling Sarah's home had, he had to admit. There was hardly any furniture and he had made no attempt to decorate the place whatsoever. The landlord had said Luke never seemed to be around much since he'd rented it back in February, so it probably hadn't really mattered. Apparently Sarah had contacted the man and had been paying Luke's rent since the accident. He wondered how she'd had the money to do that. Then again, the place was pretty low-rent, and it showed. He had a pile of mail waiting for him, and he smiled a little when he saw that the address on these bills matched the one on his license, finally.
A quick search didn't reveal much about the man he had been. He had a few DVDs that looked good, some magazines sitting on top of the small TV, and a desk littered with candy bar wrappers and old Coke cans. The bottom drawer, however, yielded a bounty of clues in the guise of old papers, some scribbled notes, a check book and an address book. He opened the address book first and scanned it for Riley's name. He found it, scratched through with a dark pen but still readable. He had half a mind to head over to the guy's place, wait until he got home, and then beat the hell out of him. Kind of hard to do when you don't even know what he looks like though. Besides, Sarah had told him the name of the law firm both he and Riley had used to work at. Luke figured he'd drop in there and try to pay the man a civil visit first.
An hour later, Luke walked into the law office of Hartman, Kress and James and felt another sense of déjà vu as he scanned the lobby. It was as if some part of him remembered coming here. Well, made sense if he had worked here himself for a couple of years. Still, he wondered if the feeling meant his memories were finally returning.
The middle-aged receptionist blinked in obvious surprise when Luke stepped up to the counter and asked if he could get an appointment with Riley.
"Luke!" she gasped, then smiled and rushed around the counter to hug him. "I can't believe it! It's been...well, a long time. What are you doing here?"
Awkwardly, he hugged her back, then pulled away to remind her who he'd asked for. She looked at him a bit oddly, then shook her head. "I'm sorry, Luke. I thought you of all people would have known. Riley isn't here."
Damn. "Do you know where I could find him? You know, to catch up on old times," he explained as if he and the other man were still old buddies.
"Luke, Riley isn't here because he—" she pushed at her eyeglasses and glanced away. "Well, this is awkward, isn't it? Luke, Riley died a few years ago. I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I could have sworn I remembered seeing you at the funeral."
Riley was...dead? "Are you sure?" he demanded. What about the phone calls Sarah had received. The package.
"Well, I suppose it must have been someone else," she admitted, and when he looked at her funny, she explained, "It must have been someone who looked like you that was at the funeral."
Oh, she thought he'd been asking if she was sure she'd seen him then. Of course she was sure Riley had died, he told himself.
"How did it happen?"
"It was awful," she said. "He had a bad allergic reaction to something he ate. He was alone, and the ambulance didn't get there in time. Of course, the police questioned the whole staff afterward, and we wondered if they didn't suspect foul play. Nothing ever came of it, from what I remember, so I suppose it was just one of those freak things that happens."
"How awful," he agreed flatly, feeling a little dazed at this news. If Riley was dead, then what the hell was going on? "Um, what about Bree-Anne? Does she still work here by chance?" Maybe his old assistant could offer some answers.
"Bree-Anne?" Clearly she hadn't been very popular with this lady, by the look on her face now. "Last I heard she was engaged to some rich guy. Same old Bree-Anne, you know. As soon as she got her hooks into one, she quit her job here. It was, oh, about a year ago. Good riddance, I say."
Luke wondered about this development as he made his way across town to pay his utilities. When the receptionist had mentioned possible foul play in Riley's death, he'd instantly wondered if he himself hadn't had something to do with it. Or maybe Sarah? Even so, it didn't explain why someone else would be stalking his wife.
Had she had another lover she hadn't told him about? Had she made up the stalking story to make him want to stay and protect her? Would she go to those lengths to keep him around?
He didn't think so. At least, he chose not to believe so. Not yet.
He figured, if anything, he was the most likely suspect. What if her betrayal had driven him over the edge? What if he'd wanted revenge against both Riley and Sarah? Had he killed one and secretly tormented the other?
What kind of man had he really been?
"Man, you were a great guy," was the answer given to him by one his supervisors on the construction site.
That's where he went next, looking for answers. He specifically asked if he'd had any close friends, someone he might have confided in.
"I don't know. Everyone loved you, but you always kind of kept to yourself," his boss answered after Luke explained his memory loss. "You and A.J. always seemed buddy-buddy. He's the guy whose life you saved, by the way. I know he's wanted to see you, but none of us were sure, you know, after hearing about your amnesia."
"I'd like to talk to him," Luke said, and a meeting was arranged for the next day.
When Luke made it back to his apartment that night, he was relieved to find his phone and electricity turned back on. The first thing he did was call Sarah. She answered on the second ring and sounded relieved to hear from him.
"Have you found out anything?" she asked carefully.
He decided not to tell her about Riley, not yet. "Not much. How's Jack?"
"He misses you already," she told him.
He smiled. "I miss him too."
"Just him?"
"No, actually," he admitted, then teased, "I'm also missing Edna something fierce. You know, if I were a few years older, you might have reason to worry."
"Oh really?" she said, but her voice was lighter, less strained than it had been. "I'll be sure to tell her she's made another fan."
They talked for a while longer, mostly about unimportant things. She told him all about her day and Jack's and how often she'd thought how much more fun they'd be having if Luke were there to experience it with them. He almost began to feel guilty for not telling her about Riley, so he told her he needed to get off the phone and get some sleep. Sarah hesitated, and that hesitation spoke volumes about her worry he might not return, but she was strong enough to pretend otherwise. "Just be careful," was all she said.
Luke figured he should try and get some sleep, but he was still too wired, thinking about all he'd learned. He just had this feeling that something could jog his memories here, but what? With a frustrated sigh, he turned on the television for company and then decided to go through some of the papers he'd found in the desk earlier. It was better than twiddling his thumbs.
Most of the notes scribbled in his hand-writing either made no sense or were totally unimportant. It wasn't until he was flipping through the stack of old newspapers he found that he had a weird feeling come over him, followed by a rush of knowledge that the reason he'd kept them was because of the classifieds. He even knew what page to turn to on the first one, and yep, there it was.
A smile curved his lips as he actually recognized the personal ad that had been circled in red. He actually recognized it! In fact, he remembered sitting right over there on the bed when he had spotted the ad originally. No, not this bed. He'd been in Louisiana somewhere, working on a crew that was rebuilding a library, he remembered. Blinking, half in shock, half in delight, he read:
PERRY MASON STILL HOT FOR TEACHER? MWF IN SEARCH OF LONG-LOST HUSBAND. I STILL LOVE YOU. PLEASE COME HOME OR CONTACT ME AT THE FOLLOWING PO BOX.
He'd known the ad had been placed by Sarah. In the early months of their relationship, she'd begun teasingly calling him Perry Mason whenever he got sidetracked discussing his work. The private joke between them had gotten carried along further when he'd had the hired band play Van Halen's "Hot for Teacher" at their wedding reception, he remembered.
He remembered!
Flipping through the papers, he saw that he'd kept the classifieds from at least three different months, all with the same ad circled in each one. More vaguely now, he remembered how he'd had a habit since college of perusing the Personals every morning as he ate breakfast and would often share a laugh with Sarah over some of the more offbeat ones.
Seeing that ad in the Atlanta newspaper, which he'd picked up for old times sake at a bookstore outside of New Orleans, Luke had made the decision to come home. To come back and see what Sarah wanted. He'd finished the job he was on and signed up for another one in Atlanta, even though he'd never wanted to set foot here again.
He still couldn't remember anything much beyond first seeing the ad or after deciding his return to Atlanta. Maybe a few bits and pieces that didn't make much sense. But nothing he most wanted to remember.
He almost called Sarah back to share the memories, but it was late and they both needed to get some rest. Suddenly, he realized how exhausted he felt. He was supposed to be meeting with his old friend A.J. at lunchtime. He got ready for bed and carried the classified section with him when he lay down for the night.
Sarah's ad was the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him.
***
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 just this side of indecent. An angel and a vixen, that's how she looked.
