Page 95 of Mistaken Intention

I steady myself, turning slowly and, once I’m sure I’m in control, I walk back to my room, taking care to make sure I don’t fall, even though my legs still don’t feel very stable. Inside, I gostraight to my dressing room, grabbing some jeans and a t-shirt, which I pull on, along with some shoes.

I might not understand what’s going on here. I may not have any answers, but if I’m going to find them – or to find Josie – I need help. This isn’t something I can do alone, and I only know one person who I can turn to, even if I don’t feel like I ‘know’ him at all.

As I leave the house and make my way along the path, I wonder if I should go to the front door or make my way around the back. An image flits across my brain and I stop in my tracks, trying to grab hold of it, to stop it from passing through unnoticed. I have a vague memory of making this walk before. The circumstances elude me, but I know this isn’t the first time I’ve trodden this path. I’m not thinking about when I came over to the pool with Josie, either. In my mind’s eye, I’m alone.

I wish I had time to focus… to see what else I can recall. But I don’t. And besides, forcing memories hasn’t worked very well for me in the past.

I continue on my way, following the path to the rear of the house and going around by the pool to the glass doors that lead to the kitchen.

“Kitchen?” I mutter the word out loud, a slight shiver running through me as I tap on the glass, looking through and seeing that – just as I’d expected – the room on the other side is an enormous kitchen. How did I know this would be here? I’ve never been to the house before. Not knowingly.

Maybe it’s an instinct, rather than a memory.

And yet, it feels like more than that.

The door opens, startling me, and I look up into the face of the man everyone says is my older brother. He’s dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair damp at the ends, and he frowns down at me.

“What are you doing here? I was just coming to see you.”

“What about?” Hunter hasn’t been near the cottage, or me, since my fall the other day. Why would he choose today of all days for a visit? And at this time of the morning?

“Josie.”

“That’s why I’m here. She’s gone.” I step closer, my foot on the threshold, my anger rising. “Do you know something about that? Have you fired her?” I can’t see why he would have done, but I can’t think of another reason she would have left.

“Of course not.” He steps back. “Come inside. We can talk more easily.”

I hesitate for a moment. That’s not because I have no memory of this man who claims to be my brother, but because I’d rather be looking for Josie. Even so, I’m aware of the fact that I can’t hope to find her without him, so I step into the house.

The room is not only enormous, but it’s stylishly furnished, with white cabinets and pale gray countertops, none of which are familiar to me. There’s an island unit, with four wicker chairs tucked underneath it, and Hunter pulls one out.

“Have a seat. I’ll fix us some coffee.”

I do as he says, my legs still a little unstable, and I watch as he makes us both a cup of coffee, bringing them over. He stands on the other side of the island unit, looking at me, a puzzled expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just odd to see you sitting there again.”

“I don’t remember sitting here before.”

“No.” He takes a sip of coffee.

“You said you were coming to see me about Josie?”

“Yeah. She’s gone.”

“I know that. Where is she?”

“She’s in Boston.”

I grab the edge of the countertop, steadying myself. “Boston? How do you know this?”

“Because she called me early this morning to tell me she’d gone home.”

“She was already there?”

“Yes.”

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