Free White Lies by Linda Howard Page A

feelings. Though she knew Steve and had expected this, it still
hurt. It hurt more now than it had when they had divorced. She felt oddly..
.betrayed, and bereft, as if she had lost part of herself, and she hadn't felt
that way before. She hadn't felt so strongly connected to him before. Well,
this was just another classic example of her own intensity leading her to read
things into a situation that simply weren't there. Would she ever learn?
                  Major Lunning was in Steve's room a long time,
and a phalanx of nurses came and went. Within half an hour Frank arrived, his
face taut and set. He squeezed Jay's arm comfortingly as he went past, but he
didn't stop to talk. He, too, disappeared into Steve's room, as if something
dreadfully important were going on in there.
                  Jay moved to the visitors' lounge, sitting
quietly with her hands folded in her lap while she tried to plan what she
should do next. Return to New York , obviously, and get a job. But the idea of hurling herself back into
the business world left her cold. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want
to leave Steve. Even now, she didn't want to leave him.
                  Almost an hour later Frank found her in the
lounge. He looked at her sharply before going to the coffee machine and buying
two cups. Jay looked up and managed a smile for him as he approached. "Do
I really look as if I need that?" she asked wryly, nodding toward the
coffee.
                  He extended a cup toward her. "I know. It
tastes worse than it looks. Drink it anyway. If you don't need it now, you will
in a minute." She took the cup and sipped the hot liquid, grimacing at the
taste. It was a mystery how anyone could take simple water and coffee and make
them taste so horrible. "Why will I need it in a minute? It's over, isn't
it? Steve told me to go away. It's obvious that he doesn't want me here, so my
presence will only upset him and slow his recovery."
                  "It isn't over," Frank said» looking
down at his own coffee, and his flat tone made Jay look at him sharply. He
looked haggard, with worry etching new lines into his face.
                  A cold chill ran down her spine and she sat up
straight. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Has he relapsed?"
                  "No."
                  "Then what's wrong?"
                  "He doesn't remember," Frank said
simply. "Anything. He has amnesia." Frank had been right; she did
need the coffee. She drank that cup, then got another one. Her head was
reeling, and she felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. "What else
can go wrong?" she asked, talking mostly to herself, but Frank knew what
she meant.
                  He sighed. They hadn't counted on this. They
had needed him awake, able to talk, able to understand what needed to be done.
This latest development had thrown a monkey wrench into the whole plan. He
didn't even know who he was!
                  How could he protect himself if he didn't know
who he had to be on guard against? He couldn't recognize friends or enemies.
                  "He's been asking for you," Frank
said, taking her hand. She started, already rising to her feet, but he tugged
on her hand and she sank back into her chair.
                  "We've been asking him a lot of
questions," he continued. "We used your system, though it takes a
while. When you told him you were his ex-wife, it confused him, scared him. He
couldn't remember you, and he didn't know what to do. Remember, he's still
easily confused. It's hard for him to concentrate, though he's getting better
fast."
                  "Are you certain he's asking for
me?" Jay asked, her heart pounding. Out of everything he had said, her
emotions had centered on his first sentence.
                  "Yes. He spelled out your name over and
over."
                  The