Forget to Remember, page 9
part #1 of Carol Golden Series
Paul managed a smile. “I do really like you. You’re beautiful...you’re feisty...”
“I like the feisty part. All right, let’s go. I’ll follow you in my car.”
CHAPTER 14
It was surprising to Carol how much of the earth was uninhabited—at least by human beings. As the plane flew over the multi-colored rock formations and gorges of the Grand Canyon, she wondered why, in spite of all these open spaces, some people were intent on blaming others for all the real and imagined problems of the world, such as global warming.
The earth had been warming and cooling for billions of years before the first ape-like creature stood on her hind legs and decided this was a more efficient way of walking. If the doom-sayers really believed what they were screeching, they could make a positive contribution to the solution of the problem. They could rid the world of their polluting presence.
Carol must have laughed out loud because her seat-mate glanced sideways at her from the Sue Grafton mystery she was reading. Where had those thoughts come from? She must have been an interesting person in her other life. Or at least feisty. Paul had called her feisty.
Ah yes, Paul. Why had she slept with him? In retrospect, she admitted she’d enjoyed it. She definitely hadn’t been a virgin. She knew about birth control and STDs and how to prevent them. She knew how to do a provocative striptease, which had left Paul bug-eyed. She knew about the mechanics of sex. Then she had gone into Cinderella mode and disappeared, leaving him wanting more.
Yes, she was experienced. Once she had gained the upper hand and made up her mind to go for it, she hadn’t hesitated. It may have been partly the feeling she owed Paul something because of all he’d done for her, but she had to admit to herself she just plain liked sex. Yes, she must have been an interesting person.
Her thoughts turned to Rigo. She had called him and told him her arrival time at LAX, hoping he would meet her. He had volunteered to do so. Rigo liked her. Maybe his feelings were stronger than that. She liked him, too. She knew she would have gladly jumped into bed with him after he saved her life. However, as long as they lived in the same house, especially with his parents, that was too much like incest.
She had to be careful she didn’t use Rigo as a gofer and not give him anything in return. She would be his friend. Maybe she could do something for him, too, perhaps help him get a job. She wasn’t quite sure how she could do that, but she would work on it.
***
Rigo gazed out the sliding glass door and windows, that covered the dining room wall, at the mountains still reflecting the setting sun while the flatlands below became sprinkled with some of the millions of lights that shone at night. The view made him glad to be alive as it always did, but today he had a special reason for exuberance. Carol had come back safe and sound.
Even after he had found out where she was he worried about her. He had dreams at night in which he searched for her and couldn’t find her. He knew they were a manifestation of his fear that she would disappear and he’d never see her again. Frances, the people finder who was sitting across the table from him, wouldn’t be able to find her, either, because Carol wouldn’t leave a trace, not even some of her DNA.
Although he barely admitted it to himself, Rigo had been relieved when he heard Carol wasn’t Cynthia Sakai. As Cynthia, she would have moved to North Carolina and lived the life of a princess. Rigo didn’t see any room for himself in that scenario. It would be as bad as if she had disappeared.
Carol told him that while he was working the brunch shift at the restaurant, she had slept in and then taken a long walk to, as she phrased it, clear her head. She hadn’t told him much about what happened in North Carolina on their ride home from the airport yesterday. She said she would tell him when she had her thoughts collected. Whether she had to collect her thoughts or clear her head, he wanted to be a part of her life.
Ernie and Tina had invited Frances over for Sunday dinner to celebrate Carol’s return and develop a further plan to find her identity, since she wasn’t an heiress. Rigo was glad he had the evening off.
They were eating when Frances asked Rigo how his job hunt was going. This was beginning to be a sore point with him. He tried to sound confident and competent. “I’m still waiting to hear feedback from one interview. I have a couple of others scheduled. I’m looking into getting the training I need to fulfill the state requirements to be a licensed counselor, but that would take a while. The state has a long list of requirements.” He stopped talking, realizing how puny that answer was.
Ernie said, “We offered to bring him into the business. We figured with his psychology, he might be good in sales. I remember when he was in high school, the tennis teams would hold car washes to help pay for their uniforms and everything. Rigo would stand in the street with a big sign and a corny costume and bring the customers in by the dozens.”
Tina smirked at her husband from the other end of the table. “What I remember is it was the members of the girls’ team in their bikinis that brought the customers in—including you. But we do think Rigo could help us. He’s got a good mind and he can learn the business.”
Rigo was about to explain for the umpteenth time why he didn’t want to go into the family business when Carol spoke. “Rigo will do fine, whatever he does. He should do something connected with computers. He can make them dance.”
Rigo gave Carol an appreciative look as they segued into her problem.
Frances took the floor. “I was able to get the testing service to give Carol’s DNA a high priority. The results are now online. I’ve placed them in several large databases containing mtDNA, which is the DNA passed down by women. I think we can safely say that Carol’s female line comes from Europe—probably northern Europe.”
“What about Cynthia’s grandmother? Did you get her DNA yet?” Rigo wanted to make sure the possibility Carol might be Cynthia was a closed issue.
“No. Mrs. Horton’s DNA hasn’t been received.” Frances turned to Carol. “Did you talk to her about it?”
Carol shook her head. “We didn’t discuss DNA. Once we determined I wasn’t Cynthia, it didn’t seem important.”
“I have other news. We have a match on your mtDNA. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, because the woman you matched only had a partial test done. I talked to her on the phone. She lives near Fresno. She told me she had a daughter—in 1986, I think she said—but had to give her up for adoption. She’s trying to reconnect with her. That’s why she had the DNA test done.”
“Fresno?” Carol looked puzzled. “Is that in California?”
“Yes, in the Central Valley. She’s in her forties and lives on a farm. She raises calves—for veal, I believe. She’s very excited. Excited enough that she agreed to have her test upgraded to a full genome at her expense.”
Rigo asked, “What’s her heritage?”
“She said her ancestors are English and German. Her name is Victoria Brody. I told her about Carol’s coloring. She said the father was Hispanic.”
Ernie grinned. “You might be one of us.”
“That would be nice.” Carol scratched her head. “I don’t picture myself as a farm girl, and it took me a few seconds to remember where Fresno is. As far as I’m concerned, eggs come in cartons at the supermarket, not from chickens. It’s funny Mrs. Horton also lives on a farm, but, of course, she doesn’t have any animals or grow any crops except a few vegetables.”
Frances said, “If it’s you, since you were adopted you might have grown up in a city. You might not have much connection with Fresno. She hasn’t seen her daughter since she was born.”
“If she’s my real mother I’d love to meet her.”
“We’ll see how the additional test comes out. If your complete mtDNA genome matches, it will definitely be worth pursuing. Meanwhile, Rigo has come up with something. He used his vast computer skills to find what might be a video of Carol. Tell them about it, Rigo.”
Rigo hadn’t told anybody except Frances about what he had found a couple of days ago, partly because he didn’t want to get Carol’s hopes up, and partly because it might embarrass her.
“I was checking YouTube for videos. Since there are millions of videos on YouTube, I had to narrow it down. I tried lots of combinations without success. Cynthia’s father was Japanese, so I started trying combinations with ‘Japanese’ or ‘Asian’ in them. I found a number of videos of girls who look something like Carol, but this one zooms in and shows a close-up of her face. I swear she has Carol’s eyes.”
Frances said, “Don’t be coy, Rigo. Tell us the combination you used to find the video.”
“It was ‘Japanese bikini.’ He looked at Carol who was sitting beside him and was relieved to see she was smiling. “It’s a really nice video—not too…”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” Carol seemed to be laughing at him. “I’m flattered you think I’d look good in a bikini. Is there a name with it?”
“The name on the video is Aiko Murakawa. I Googled the name and didn’t come up with any other reference to it that would fit. Frances contacted the man who posted the video.”
Frances nodded. “We exchanged e-mails. He said the video is at least five years old. He doesn’t remember where he got it and thinks the name may be a stage name. However, I agree with Rigo. I think it’s a younger version of Carol. That means her father may be Japanese, since her mother isn’t. Her mtDNA isn’t Japanese.”
“Sounds like a dead end.” Ernie frowned. “I’d like to see it, however.”
Tina looked at her husband with amusement. “We knew you would. We’d all like to see it. And we will, right after dessert. How long is her hair in the video?”
“Fairly long.” Rigo placed his hand on Carol’s back below her shoulder blades to demonstrate.”
Carol shook her head. “The name ‘Aiko whatever’ doesn’t ring a bell.”
Frances spoke energetically. “Every piece of information is a clue. We may come upon another reference to the name. I’ll add it to what I have about you online. In your travels, Carol, did you come across anything or any place that looked familiar?”
“No, but I learned some things I didn’t do, schools I didn’t attend.”
Carol gave a brief description of her trip, but Rigo suspected she left some parts out. She told how Paul Vigiano faked the photo and Frances discovered it, but she didn’t say much about his reaction when he was confronted. She didn’t seem to have much animosity toward him.
Frances interrupted Rigo’s reverie. “We’re also looking for abilities and knowledge you might have.”
“Well, I know for sure I’m not a gardener. I can drive a car, but I think at some point recently I must have driven in the UK. I kept wanting to drive on the left and shift with my left hand. That produced a few exciting moments.”
“We need to explore the possibility that you might have spent time in England, but so far we have very little to go on.”
Ernie asked the question Rigo had been dying to ask. “How can you fly in an airplane and rent a car?”
Everybody looked at Carol. Rigo was half-mad at his father for putting Carol on the spot. He would rather have asked her in private. She hesitated before answering.
“Look, I don’t want to drag all of you into the seamy side of my life right now. If you want me to leave and stay somewhere else, that’s all right. I…I have a fake driver’s license.”
Carol didn’t elaborate. She was living a secret life Rigo wasn’t privy to. He didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about it. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave. Fortunately, Tina came to the rescue.
“Don’t even talk about leaving. This is a very difficult time for you. We can’t imagine what it’s like to be you right now, but we want to support you all we can. Stay as long as you like. Even after you find yourself, you’re welcome to stay with us. Just be careful. We don’t want you to get into trouble.”
Carol looked relieved. “Thank you, Tina. And Ernie and Rigo and Frances. I feel at home here. Believe me I’ll pay you back for everything, including your kindness. I’ll try to keep out of trouble. The main thing is, I don’t want you all to get into trouble because of me.
CHAPTER 15
“When you have to leave a blot within six points of your opponent’s checker, always leave it as close to your opponent as you can.”
Carol mentally stepped back and listened to herself for a moment. She sounded like a teacher. However, if she and Rigo were going to play much backgammon together, she wanted him to present a challenge to her.
“Why is close better?”
“How many combinations can you roll with two dice?”
“Uh…thirty-six?”
“Right. Six times six. How many of those combinations will hit a checker one point away from you?”
“Now you’re straining my intelligence.”
“Eleven. Each combination with a one in it, such as one-six and six-one, plus double one. How many combinations will hit a checker six away from you?”
Rigo thought for a few seconds and then started counting on his fingers. “Seventeen.”
“Go to the head of the class. The answers for a checker two to five points away from you are between eleven and seventeen.”
Rigo shook his head, ruefully, as he bore off his last checker. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to play backgammon with you. The only reason I’ve won four games is because you’ve been coaching me. Talk about crushing a guy’s ego. What about leaving a blot seven or more points away from your opponent?”
“The odds against getting hit are much better. Only six combinations will hit a blot seven away and it goes downhill from there.”
“Where did you learn to play like this?” Rigo immediately looked contrite. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Carol smiled to show no harm done. “I wish I knew how I learned.”
“Frances said to figure out what you’re good at. You’re certainly good at backgammon.”
“Maybe I was a backgammon hustler in my youth.”
Rigo laughed. “I’ve got an idea. The restaurant is closed on Mondays, so Adam and I have been going to a sports bar on Monday evenings and watching Monday night football. Come with us. You’ve got a driver’s license, so it won’t hurt if you’re carded, which you probably will be.”
“Do women go to this bar?”
“Many do. Some women love football.”
“What about Adam’s wife?”
“She hates football. That’s one reason Adam goes to the bar to watch football. Besides, she has to stay home with their kids.”
Yeah, and what if she got wind of Adam being out on the town in a threesome that included a mysterious babe while she was home with the kids? Carol understood how that might go over like a lead balloon. Still, she liked being with Rigo. She would be with him, not Adam.
“Sure, I’ll go. Why not?”
***
Carol leaned closer to Adam to hear what he was shouting over the noise. The crowd was raucous. Half a dozen big-screen TVs were scattered throughout the large bar, located in one of the beach cities—she wasn’t sure which one—and the patrons were cheering on almost every play.
She had just about decided she didn’t care for football all that much, which confirmed the feeling she’d had at the high school game they’d attended. She was more interested in watching the antics of the patrons. Adam tried speaking again, putting his mouth almost against Carol’s ear.
“I’m glad you’ve returned. You’re good for Rigo. Ever since he broke up with his girlfriend he’s been in the dumps. That and his job situation.”
This was the first she’d heard about a girlfriend. “When did they break up?”
“It was over a month ago. They’d been going together for a couple of years.”
If Adam was so happy she was there for Rigo, why was he pressing his leg against hers? At least she was wearing jeans. She spotted Rigo returning from the restroom and used that as an excuse to turn away from Adam. Rigo sat down on the other side of her. They were crowded together at the large table, and it was difficult to maintain any separation, but she would rather play kneesy with Rigo than Adam.
Pennants representing various athletic teams hung on the walls and from the ceiling. Carol didn’t see any football pennants representing a Los Angeles team. She asked Rigo about this; he told her Los Angeles hadn’t had a professional football team since the Rams went to St. Louis. If that was the case, why was everybody here so excited about football?
Carol was being careful about the amount of beer she drank. It came in pitchers, and it was easy to sip it constantly. As soon as her glass ran low, Adam refilled it. From her experience in drinking wine with Paul, she knew she wasn’t a big drinker. She’d been careful drinking with him, but even so she had developed a buzz after several glasses. Rigo was limiting his intake, but Adam was steadily putting it away. She was glad Rigo was driving.
At halftime, somebody on the other side of the table pulled out a deck of cards and arranged some of them in a pattern on the tabletop. He and the person next to him alternately took cards away. When there were no cards left, money changed hands. Carol had decided from her backgammon experience she liked to play games. She asked Rigo what was happening.
He leaned close to her. “The cards are laid out in rows. On your turn you remove one or more cards from a single row. The person who removes the last card wins.”
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”
“The only times I’ve tried it I’ve lost money.”
“There must be a logical approach to the game.”
“I was told by someone you convert the number of cards in each row to binary, then arrange the binary numbers as if you’re going to add them. Binary is just ones and zeroes. You count the binary ones in each column. After you make your move, there should be an even number of binary ones—or none—in each column. I can’t do all that in my head.”
