Quicksand (31 page)

Joe would leave her. Perhaps not this week or this month, but it would happen. He couldn't stand the thought of continuing the search for Bonnie and she couldn't bear not to do it.
I can't care about Bonnie. I'm sorry but that's the way it is. I'm not sure I can watch you go
through
—

She could understand his pain, but she couldn't help him. The only thing she could do was wait and try to prepare herself for what was to come.

Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand and she grabbed it to keep it from waking Joe. Jane.

She slipped out of bed and left the bedroom before she answered.

"Hi, Jane, how angry are you?" she asked when she picked up.

"Not angry at all. Hurt. You know you shouldn't have lied to me."

"Yes," she said wearily. "It seemed the only thing to do at the time. I couldn't stand the thought of dragging you into that horror too."

"Why not? It's where I belong if you're there. Joe said Bonnie's body wasn't found."

"Not yet."

"I'm sorry. I know how much you're hurting."

"I'll be okay."

"How about Joe? He didn't sound very good when he called."

"It's difficult for him."

"I can see it." She paused. "When I was a little girl, I had to fight to keep from disliking Bonnie."

"Jane."

"Oh, I wasn't jealous. You gave me all you could. But she was a stranger to me and she was the one thing we couldn't share. And I was like Joe. I didn't like you being hurt."

"You never told me."

"I didn't want to hurt you. The only reason I'm telling you now is to make sure you realize what Joe is feeling."

"I understand. We'll get through it."

"Yes, you will. I got through it and now I'm fine with the way you feel about Bonnie. But I can't see your face to tell if you're trying not to worry me. Sometimes I hate telephones." She added crisply, "But I'll be able to see you soon. I'm in New York between planes. I'm arriving in Atlanta in a couple hours. Will you meet me?"

"Jane, why didn't you stay in—"

"Because you're my family and I'm going to be with you. Now can you meet me?"

"Of course."

"Delta 231. I love you. 'Bye." She hung up.

Eve pressed the disconnect. The conversation had been disturbing. In her heart she had known that Jane had felt that Eve had not loved her as she did Bonnie, but Jane had always denied it. Now it was out in the open and they would have to face it. Yet Eve wasn't feeling apprehensive. It was almost a relief, and she and Jane were so close now that they could deal with anything.

Lord, it would be good to have Jane home. Just the sound of her voice made Eve feel more cheerful. She quietly opened the bedroom door and moved toward the bathroom to start dressing.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" JOE
asked sleepily as she came out of the bathroom. He rose up on one elbow. "It's still dark outside."

"Go back to sleep." Eve bent and gave him a quick kiss. "I'm going to the airport to pick up Jane. She called me from New York where she's making a connection."

"I thought I'd convinced her to stay in Paris." He yawned. "She probably hopped the next plane."

"More than likely. She wasn't pleased that we'd lied to her."

"I lied to her. You didn't."

"It's the same thing."

"Is it?"

She smiled. "Oh, yes. United we stand . . ." She brushed her lips across his forehead. "I should be back in a couple hours. I'll stop at Dunkin' Donuts and get a supply of sinful sweets for breakfast. Maybe they'll be a mellowing influence on Jane." She headed for the door. "Though that's a tough one. Jane is definitely not mellow."

"Like you," Joe said. "And donuts never fazed you, Eve."

"Maybe I'll develop a liking for them. You're right, I could use a little mellowing too." She waved her hand and was gone.

Joe slowly lay back down as he heard the front door shut behind her.

Mellow. Eve didn't understand the concept of mellow. She was storm-driven, with flashes of humor and affection that filtered through the clouds.

And he didn't know how long he could survive living in the center of that storm. He would destroy himself and he could destroy Eve. She'd had tragedy enough in her life and she didn't need to deal with the bitterness and fury that was tearing him apart. She would never give up her search for Bonnie and he could never feel anything but frustration and despair whenever he thought of Eve's child. The bitterness would grow and eventually it would make him walk away from her. But not before he might have hurt her beyond healing.

Don't think about it. Eve was with him now and for a little while there would be peace. That would change, the search would start again. He'd decide then whether he'd try one more time. He closed his eyes. Try to sleep. In a few hours Eve and Jane would be back and he needed to pull himself together so that Eve wouldn't know this conflict was so near the surface. He didn't want to hurt her before he had to do it . . .

OPEN.

"No!"

Megan sat upright in bed, her heart beating so hard she thought it would jump from her chest. She swung her legs to the floor.

"What is it?" Phillip had opened her bedroom door and was frowning with concern. "You called out." He turned on the light and moved toward the bed. "And you're crying."

"Am I?" Megan wiped her cheeks on the back of her hands. "Just a nightmare. I'm sorry I bothered you, Phillip."

"You didn't bother me." He dragged the easy chair up to the bed. "And it's natural that you'd be upset. It's the first night home after that god-awful experience. What were you dreaming about?" He paused. "The island?"

"Not exactly." She drew a deep breath. "It was . . . strange. It was the voices." She got out of bed. "I'm going to get a glass of water." She held up her hand when he started to speak. "No hot chocolate. Water. Just give me a minute. I'll be right back."

She drank a full glass of water and then leaned against the vanity and took deep breaths. She would have to go back to Phillip soon, but she needed this moment to herself.
Open.

Hear.

See.

Pushing.

Open.

Voices.

Just lingering words from the voices in the nightmare. But they were words she couldn't remember hearing from the voices of the children on the island.

Yet she had a panicky feeling that she should remember them.

Hear.

See.

Open.

She wiped her face with a cool washcloth. She had to get back to Phillip before he became any more concerned.

He was frowning when she came back and slipped into bed. "I feel better. Go on to bed, Phillip."

"Soon." He leaned back in the chair. "You've had nightmares about voices before, but I don't remember you getting this upset. You're usually . . . sad."

"This was different."

"You said that about the shock trauma you went through this time. Is this a residual effect?"

"Go back to bed, Phillip."

"Nope." He smiled. "You wouldn't let me go to the island, but I'll be darned if I'll be closed out of helping with the fallout. You're uneasy and we're going to talk it out."

"I'm not uneasy. Well, maybe I am. But it doesn't make any sense. The Listening was terrible, but everything could have been worse if that damn Pandora had kicked in. It didn't. I didn't hurt Eve. There's no reason for me to—"

"What were the voices saying?"

"Hear. See. Open." She ran her hand through her hair. "They kept pushing. I wouldn't answer and they wouldn't give up. I fought and fought, but they kept pushing. Couldn't they tell I wasn't with them any longer?"

He frowned, puzzled. "Then where were you?"

"What?" Then she realized what she had said. "I don't know where I was. I just wasn't— Oh, my God."

Phillip leaned forward. "What is it?"

"That was the time when I was unconscious." Panic was rising within her. "I didn't remember when I came out of it. But that was why I wouldn't come back. I was struggling, fighting, and they kept coming at me."

"The children?"

"Yes, the children. I thought Listening was only echoes. Maybe it is. But those echoes wanted to be heard. They couldn't reach me. They couldn't make me open my mind and listen to them. So they kept pushing and pushing."

"It's over, Megan," Phillip said gently. "And all that's left is a nightmare. We can get through those together."

He was right. Of course he was right.

No, he wasn't.

Dear God.

"You don't understand," she whispered. "Even though I was unconscious I was upset. I was fighting. I was struggling for my life and sanity."

"What are you saying?"

"Pandora. Facilitation. I was probably more emotioncharged while I was unconscious than I am sometimes when I'm awake. You know emotion is always the key. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit." She jumped out of bed and grabbed her cell phone from the bedside table. "I've got to call Eve Duncan."

"She's safe, Megan. Nothing happened to her all the time she was with you at the hospital. No sign of a release of latent talent."

"We don't know that for certain. All the rules are screwy, since I was in an emotional state while I was in shock. That's not supposed to happen. How do I know how much of this facilitation crap I was radiating while I was unconscious? It could have been less but steady. Would that cause an extended delay in any latent talent to show itself?"

"Or dilute it completely."

"I'm not that lucky." She found Eve's number in her cell phone. "I've got to warn her."

"It's the middle of the night."

"Then she can stay up and worry along with me."

Hear. See. Open.

"I still think that you have nothing to worry about. Calm down. You'll scare her."

"Yes, I will." She pushed Eve's number. "But she has to know. It's my fault. I should have figured it out before. I can't let her face it blind. Maybe she can help . . ."
THE CLOCK ON JOE'S NIGHT STAND
read 5:20 A.M.

Eve and Jane should be coming home anytime now with donuts in hand. He might as well have coffee ready for them. He wasn't sleeping anyway. He got out of bed and slipped into his robe. The morning was cool, although by noon it would be stifling hot even here on the lake. The dawn was just starting to break and the hall was dim. He started the coffee and set out cups and creamer.

See.

Hear.

Open.

Joe froze. What the hell? The words had come into his mind out of the blue. No sense. No connection. Lord, he must really be tired.

He went out on the porch to wait for Eve and Jane. He strolled over to the railing and looked out at the lake. Sunset and sunrise were always the most beautiful here. How many hundreds of times over the years had he and Eve come out here to watch the dawn unfurl its brilliance?

It was a memory that was so poignant that it—

See.

Hear.

Open.

What on earth was happening to—?

"Hello, Joe."

He whirled toward the porch swing.

A little girl was curled up on the swing. "I've wanted to come to see you so many times, but I
couldn't do it. I'm so happy I can do it now."

In the dimness of the porch she was only a blur, but she couldn't be over seven or eight. The
nearest house was miles away. How had she gotten here? "Who are you?" he asked. "You
shouldn't be here. Where's your family?"

"Coming. But I hope you're my family too, Joe. You closed me out for so long, but something .

. . happened. You're open to me now."

Hear. See. Open.

"Yes, that's right, Joe."

"No, it's not right. None of this is right. You should go home. Your parents must be worrying."
She shook her head. "You know that won't happen. You know who I am."

"The hell I do." The dawn rays were gradually banishing the pool of darkness surrounding
the swing, touching the little girl's curly red hair and small face with light. He couldn't take
his eyes off her. This was crazy. Yet he didn't feel crazy. He felt a weird sense of . . . peace.

"Who are you?"

"It's going to be all right, Joe. I promise you."

"Who are you?"

The sunlight was now surrounding her as had the darkness before, revealing the Bugs Bunny
T-shirt she was wearing.

"Why, Joe." Her luminous smile lit her face and reached out to touch him, embrace him,
enfold him in love. "I'm Bonnie."