Forget to Remember

wouldn’t be using his real name, anyway, but more important, to the rest of the world Michael was dead. Carol and Paul wanted Michael to be under the illusion he was still unidentified. His sister had seen him, but she had amnesia. With his mental problems, he might buy into the idea that he was invincible. In that case, he wouldn’t feel the need to act cautiously.
    “Thanks for being here. I’m sure Mrs. Horton feels safer. I know I do. Keep up the good work.”
    “I will. You can rest assured we’ll protect you.”
    Carol returned his gap-toothed smile. She was quite certain she’d made a conquest. Not only was that good for her ego, it might come in handy. She drove to the house and parked in front of the garage. She carried her suitcase and backpack along the sidewalk that fronted the house, accompanied by Butch. Audrey met her at the front door and started gushing.
    “Carol. Are you all right? I understand you had a confrontation with Michael last night. Or should I say Cynthia? I don’t know what to call you.”
    “Thank you. I’m fine. You can call me anything you want. Just don’t call me late to dinner. But please, don’t mention Michael to anyone outside the family. We don’t want the news media trumpeting the story he’s alive.”
    “Of course not. Here’s your key to the house. Mr. Vigiano already phoned. He said he’s coming over about noon, so I invited him for lunch. The poor man is living alone now, and he’s probably not getting the proper nutrition. You know how bachelors are when it comes to eating.”
    “Good job. How is Mrs. Horton doing?”
    “She’s upset about having a guard.”
    Indeed, Mrs. Horton was sitting up straight in her chair in the family room, glaring out the window. Following her gaze among the trees that fronted the house, Carol could see Tim sitting at one of several picnic tables in the large grassy area between them and the gate on the road, not looking particularly vigilant. Carol came down the two steps and gave Mrs. Horton a hug and a kiss.
    “Good morning, Grandma.”
    “Are you sure it was Michael who attacked you last night?”
    “He had red hair, but his face was like the pictures I’ve seen. He was a little taller than I am, and he had a wild look in his eyes. He had Michael’s odor. We’re not telling the rest of the world this, but who else could it be?”
    “It was him, all right. What is the world coming to? You’re my only remaining descendants, and you’re trying to kill each other.”
    “I’m not trying to kill him .” Although if an opportunity had presented itself last night…
    Mrs. Horton was unhappy about the guard situation. She saw it as an invasion of her privacy. Carol tried to convince her it was for the best. Audrey had put Carol in the downstairs bedroom. She moved her few belongings into it and unpacked, hanging up clothes in the closet.
    Mrs. Horton still slept in the master bedroom upstairs. Audrey told Carol it took her a while to negotiate the steps with the help of her cane and the banister, but Carol wasn’t going to try to convince her to move downstairs as long as Michael was about.
    ***
    Paul arrived at noon. Carol gave him a hug. He’d been a big help last night, and she was glad he’d hired the security service, even though the money was coming out of the estate. Mrs. Horton complained about the guards, but he managed to calm her down—more successfully than Carol had, she noted. Perhaps it was because he was a man.
    As they sat down to lunch, Paul became solemn. “You were right about Rose, Carol. I was up half the night looking for evidence, but I found it. I fired her. She didn’t know Michael was alive; she was dealing with Katherine Simpson at Weatherford. That’s circumstantial evidence of a tie-in between Weatherford and Michael. I hired a private investigator I know in Virginia to find out exactly how Michael is involved with the foundation.”
    Paul spent a few minutes explaining to Mrs. Horton what he was talking about. Then he turned to Carol. “We have another problem. Weatherford’s attorneys have challenged your identity, claiming you’re not Cynthia. The timing is strange, because I haven’t taken action to establish you as the heir yet, but Rose told Katherine you were back. I was afraid they would do this, just not so quickly.”
    Mrs. Horton put down her fork and glared at Paul. “Can’t you accuse this blasted foundation of shady practices?”
    “That’s a side issue,