A Season To Believe. Elane Osborn
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу A Season To Believe - Elane Osborn страница 7

Название: A Season To Believe

Автор: Elane Osborn

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn: 9781472080721

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ Maybe he’d been taken with the fact that she seemed so much more…grown-up, courtesy of the businesslike red jacket she wore and the sophisticated way her hair had been cut to fall in soft, spiky layers around her face.

      “Too busy for the beach?” Matt purposely exaggerated his surprise. “Didn’t you learn anything from me and Man—from that day we took you to Ocean Beach and demonstrated the fine art of surfing? I must say, whoever took over the job of educating you in the joy of living definitely fell down on the job.”

      Jane’s smile was weak, but Matt took a great deal of satisfaction in having managed to get that much.

      She said, “That would be Zoe. She’s going pretty strong for a woman in her seventies, but I think surfing is a little out of her range.”

      “Okay. So you weren’t at the beach this past May.” He released an exaggerated sigh. “Well then, it seems clear to me that you must have flashed back to a day you spent at the beach a year ago May—before your accident.”

      Matt watched the tiny curve of the edge of Jane’s mouth disappear. Her eyes seemed to darken as she stared at him, and her jaw visibly tightened before she said, “So?”

      “So?” Matt’s voice softened as he prepared to do battle. “Sooo, I would say that you have had your first honest-to-goodness memory in over a year. A matter worth celebrating.”

      With that he took a long drink of aromatic French roast. Savoring the rich, strong flavor, he placed his cup on the table, swallowed and grinned at her again.

      “Matt, that brief image of sand and sea could hardly be considered a memory. And even if it was, I still don’t have any desire to know who I once was. I’ve moved forward, just like I said I wanted to, and I have no interest in looking back.”

      Matt remembered the warm July day that Jane had made that particular declaration. She’d just returned to her hospital room, after meeting with a family who had come five hundred miles to see her, certain she would prove to be their lost loved one—only to discover they were wrong. He recalled the way Jane had dashed away the tears of disappointment, then declared she wanted nothing more to do with the past.

      There was no sign of tears in her eyes now, but Matt recognized the same determination he’d seen on that day. The memory of that resolve had reassured him whenever he thought about Jane’s unsolved case while battling back from his own injuries, then working tirelessly with his cousin Jack to build the sort of detective agency they both needed.

      He and Jack had been determined to continue their childhood dream of catching the bad guys. It had taken a long time, and a lot of legwork to prove themselves, but they’d built a reputation for solving cases that the police had given up on, or were forced to let lie fallow as they pursued matters with more promise.

      Like the case of Jane Doe Number Thirteen.

      This had been his investigation. It was his again. Now he had the time, the autonomy and the resources to find out who had sent this lovely young woman over the edge of a cliff in a car rigged to burst into flame. And, it seemed that Jane just might be ready to provide the most important item in the equation—the memories that would lead him to the person or persons with a motive strong enough to set that horror in motion.

      If, that is, he could get Jane to cooperate.

      Changing tactics, Matt relaxed back in his chair. “You mentioned Zoe. How is she?”

      Jane seemed to study him a moment before answering. “She’s fine. I rent an apartment from her, and in case you’re wondering, she has accepted my decision to forget about the past, and never bugs me about it.”

      Matt managed to keep his expression neutral at this news. Zoe Zeffarelli had come highly recommended by a couple of cops he and Manny knew. The therapist had used a combination of psychology and hypnotism to help crack several cases. Matt had found the woman to be a no-nonsense sort who had instantly gained Jane’s trust and his respect. He had assumed that when he and Manny went to work on the money-laundering scheme, Ms. Zeffarelli would help Jane recover her memory and build a life for herself. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, that hadn’t happened.

      Maintaining his casual attitude, Matt said, “Okay, we’ll leave the distant past alone. Tell me what’s kept you too busy to go to the beach.”

      “I started my own business.”

      “Yeah? What kind of business?”

      “I make elves and fairies.”

      “Really? Would this be the one-wish sort, or three?”

      As Matt watched Jane’s eyes crinkle at the corners, he found himself smiling easily and naturally in a way he hadn’t done since…

      He let that thought go unfinished. Jane’s stance on not dwelling on the past was right, at least as it pertained to his past. Hers was another matter.

      “No wishes, I’m afraid,” she said with a sad sigh. “They just sit around and look magical.”

      “I see. How did you get into the business of magic?”

      Jane grinned. “Zoe’s cousin got me started, last October in Maine. She makes dolls. I tried to copy hers, but all the faces I carved looked more elflike, so that’s what my creations became. I was looking for a way to support myself, so she suggested I put my things on consignment at the shop she owns, and they all sold. Somehow, almost magically, I’ve managed to build a thriving business.”

      She grinned as she finished speaking, then lifted her cup to take a sip of coffee. The grin became a grimace as she swallowed, then choked on the liquid.

      After her coughing fit ended, Matt said, “I’m not sure why you insist on drinking something you obviously don’t like, but for the moment, I’m more interested in another little mystery.”

      “And that would be?”

      Jane looked so wary that Matt almost regretted what he was about to do. “That question,” he said, “is why such an obviously intelligent and talented woman would be so determined to ignore the chance to look into her past, where she might discover the source of this magical ability of hers.”

      Chapter Three

      She should have seen that coming.

      Jane stared at the man who had just manipulated the conversation in the exact direction she’d been trying so very hard to avoid.

      “You’re good,” she said quietly.

      Matt’s eyebrows rose in silent acknowledgment of her reluctant compliment. He continued to gaze into her eyes as his smile widened, increasing the depth of his single dimple.

      Jane’s shoulders sagged. She knew when she’d been out-maneuvered. She should have recognized the tactics. How many times had Matt and Manny started their visits to her hospital room with a series of jokes that got her laughing too hard to worry about the news they’d brought?

      Perhaps some new reporter wanted to interview the celebrated amnesiac who had miraculously escaped death, or yet another person wanted to see if she might be the female who had disappeared from their lives a month, a year, a decade ago. And somehow, because Matt and Manny got her laughing, she’d always СКАЧАТЬ