That’s who deposits money into my account every month.” He shrugged. “I know—they’re robbing me of my identity, and I should be suing them, but while I’m figuring all of this out, I’m living in a not-too-shabby home, eating expensive meals and dressing rather well.” He looked down at his pants. “I’ve even been shopping. I figure if it’s her money, that’s one thing. But if I’m spending Mason’s money—he didn’t do this to me. No need to take advantage of him.”
“So you’re booked on the flights as Aldridge.” She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense. He had no identification, no way to fly without some form of it.
“You disapprove?” he asked.
Charlie lifted her hands. “Hey, whatever works. It’s not my money, and you’re not breaking any laws that I know of, so have at it, but what happens if the real Aldridge appears, just shows up some day?”
Seth snorted. “Then I guess I’ll owe him a big apology for helping drain his accounts, or he’ll owe me one for saddling me with his sister. Hell, he may not be missing at all—the man might be hiding. If you had to live with Dorinda and Doug, you’d understand.”
Charlie listened as he spoke, to the deep timbre of his voice, noticing the absence of inflections that might have told her something about his background. Normally, people had accents, and she was good at identifying them to within close proximity of where they’d grown up. With Seth, she was baffled.
While he appeared more at ease with her today, he was still aloof, certainly not impolite or rude, but definitely more reserved than she’d have preferred. They were a nice-looking couple, if she did think so, and traveling to one of the hottest Mexican Riviera locales on the map. It would’ve been nice if they could’ve truly been a couple, her arm linked through his, his eyes maintaining with hers a steady communication of mutual respect and admiration, if not love.
She seemed to be the farthest thing from her companion’s mind, though. He talked about where he’d booked their hotel, how long ’til they arrived, and the fact that he was even talking to her made her smile. She and Seth had talked before, but she hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d missed hearing his voice.
I shouldn’t have worn this get-up. She glanced down at her nice, crisp suit, halfheartedly listening to him now. She should have donned her usual uniform of military-pressed pants, sturdy walking shoes and a button-down shirt. They were to interview a coroner and a couple of doctors, not sip margaritas poolside and stroll hand in hand through downtown Guadalajara. She felt like a fool for wanting…and expecting…to jar his memory, to have him snap out of whatever was keeping him from remembering his past, from remembering her.
Charlie hadn’t played with dolls as a little girl—she’d played with pen and paper, she’d collected dead bugs and examined spiderwebs. She’d loved to solve puzzles and play hide-and-seek, and her favorite game had been Clue, primarily because it dealt with facts instead of emotions.
Her mother had seen to it that Charlie grew up knowing how to dress and wear makeup, walk in heels and deal with bad hair days. June’s biggest lesson she’d taught her daughter, however, had been to know when a boy was lying to her by watching his eyes and hands. None of it had prepared Charlie for dating life, but it had served her well as a cop.
Sam’s teachings, once she’d reached adulthood, had been to show Charlie how to hold a rifle, to do a roundhouse kick and knock a man out with the heel of her foot, and to swim safely in the shark-infested waters off the Gulf. Nobody had bothered with nonsensical things like helping her feel comfortable flirting, so Charlie was a complete dodo bird when it came to feminine wiles unless she was witnessing another woman use them on some unsuspecting man at the precinct.
“Have you
“So you’re booked on the flights as Aldridge.” She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense. He had no identification, no way to fly without some form of it.
“You disapprove?” he asked.
Charlie lifted her hands. “Hey, whatever works. It’s not my money, and you’re not breaking any laws that I know of, so have at it, but what happens if the real Aldridge appears, just shows up some day?”
Seth snorted. “Then I guess I’ll owe him a big apology for helping drain his accounts, or he’ll owe me one for saddling me with his sister. Hell, he may not be missing at all—the man might be hiding. If you had to live with Dorinda and Doug, you’d understand.”
Charlie listened as he spoke, to the deep timbre of his voice, noticing the absence of inflections that might have told her something about his background. Normally, people had accents, and she was good at identifying them to within close proximity of where they’d grown up. With Seth, she was baffled.
While he appeared more at ease with her today, he was still aloof, certainly not impolite or rude, but definitely more reserved than she’d have preferred. They were a nice-looking couple, if she did think so, and traveling to one of the hottest Mexican Riviera locales on the map. It would’ve been nice if they could’ve truly been a couple, her arm linked through his, his eyes maintaining with hers a steady communication of mutual respect and admiration, if not love.
She seemed to be the farthest thing from her companion’s mind, though. He talked about where he’d booked their hotel, how long ’til they arrived, and the fact that he was even talking to her made her smile. She and Seth had talked before, but she hadn’t realized until this moment how much she’d missed hearing his voice.
I shouldn’t have worn this get-up. She glanced down at her nice, crisp suit, halfheartedly listening to him now. She should have donned her usual uniform of military-pressed pants, sturdy walking shoes and a button-down shirt. They were to interview a coroner and a couple of doctors, not sip margaritas poolside and stroll hand in hand through downtown Guadalajara. She felt like a fool for wanting…and expecting…to jar his memory, to have him snap out of whatever was keeping him from remembering his past, from remembering her.
Charlie hadn’t played with dolls as a little girl—she’d played with pen and paper, she’d collected dead bugs and examined spiderwebs. She’d loved to solve puzzles and play hide-and-seek, and her favorite game had been Clue, primarily because it dealt with facts instead of emotions.
Her mother had seen to it that Charlie grew up knowing how to dress and wear makeup, walk in heels and deal with bad hair days. June’s biggest lesson she’d taught her daughter, however, had been to know when a boy was lying to her by watching his eyes and hands. None of it had prepared Charlie for dating life, but it had served her well as a cop.
Sam’s teachings, once she’d reached adulthood, had been to show Charlie how to hold a rifle, to do a roundhouse kick and knock a man out with the heel of her foot, and to swim safely in the shark-infested waters off the Gulf. Nobody had bothered with nonsensical things like helping her feel comfortable flirting, so Charlie was a complete dodo bird when it came to feminine wiles unless she was witnessing another woman use them on some unsuspecting man at the precinct.
“Have you
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