The Quiet Seduction by Dixie Browning

Goodness, it’s been almost twelve years.”
    Storm remained silent. A question now would be counterproductive, and for some reason he wanted to know more about the man, more about their relationship—their former relationship—and why the guy had turned up just now. On the surface it had been a simple friendly visit. He’d been in the neighborhood, hadn’t seen her in a long time. Perfectly natural for him to drop by. And incidentally, drop off a few gifts from her father.
    But if he was a business associate of her father’s, why hadn’t they seen each other in years? Why was it she couldn’t afford to replace rotten fence posts or hire someone to do a few simple repairs around the house, while her father’s associate dined with politicians and drove a late-model luxury sedan.
    Why did she refuse to even look at whatever it was her father had sent? Something more than a few toys, he suspected.
    She reached for the coffeepot, poured herself another half cup and spooned in more sugar. “You’re probably wondering about a few things.”
    â€œYou could say I’m mildly curious.”
    â€œI could tell you it was none of your business, too, but—”
    â€œBut rudeness isn’t your style.”
    Looking up, she smiled, but the smile didn’t quite make it as far as her eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have a style. I’m sorry if Greg made you uncomfortable. Maybe you should have told him about your amnesia and questioned him, since he seemed to recognize you.”
    â€œFunny thing—and don’t ask me how I know this—but there are some people I’d as soon not be recognized by, if you’ll forgive the terminal preposition.”
    Ellen had known for days that she’d have to tell him. She’d been waiting for an opening, for a good time. There was no good time, and this was as close to an opening as she was likely to have. “Storm, there’s something you need to know.”
    And so she told him. After describing both men and repeating verbatim everything that had been said—she’d gone over it so many times in her mind that remembering was no problem—she waited for him to explode.
    â€œHarrison,” he said after a long silence. “J. S. Harrison, as in Jason Spencer Harrison.”
    Leaning forward, Ellen nearly knocked over her coffee cup. “You remember? Oh, Storm.”
    His expression was one of resignation more than defeat. “Sorry. I’ve gone all through the phone book. There are at least a dozen Harrisons, some with J, some with S—even one with both. Turned out to be a lady named Janet Shaw Harrison. Retired schoolteacher. I lied and said I’d like her honest opinion about the local schools, and she gave me an earful.”
    â€œOh, Lord.” Ellen lowered her face to her hands and snickered.
    â€œLook, I could call and ask each one if they’re missing a relative, but until I can put all the pieces together, I don’t think that’s particularly wise.”
    â€œBut if you’re the missing district attorney—”
    â€œEllen, listen to me. Not to put too fine a point on it, but from the way you described that pair that showed up here looking for me—for someone, at any rate—odds are they weren’t exactly selling Girl Scout cookies. All along, I’ve had a strong feeling of…I don’t know, of something.” He broke off and swore softly in exasperation. “The state prison. Something to do with the state pen. Until I find out which side of the bars I belong on, I don’t think it’s smart to advertise my presence, so if you’re asking for absolution, you’ve got it. You might even have saved my neck.”
    â€œOh, for heaven’s sake, you’re not a crook. I’ve lived with you long enough to know you’re a good man, a decent man. Personally, I think you’re that