Season of Strangers (9 page)

Leaning forward, he pressed the button on the small, digital tape recorder sitting on his desk and Laura's soft feminine voice floated out through the speakers in the compact machine.

She was telling him about her childhood, describing the day her father had left them, how terribly sad they all had been. “Mama cried the most,” she said. “I held onto Daddy's leg when he opened the door and begged him not to leave. I said, ‘Don't go Daddy, please,' but he only shook his head. I remember the way his hand stroked through my hair. It was exactly the same light blond as his and his eyes were brown like mine. I started to cry and he looked like he might cry, too.”

“What about your sister? What did she do?”

“Julie just stood there and watched him pack his things. She was leaning against the wall in the corner, staring at Mama and me. She saw us crying and for some reason it made her really mad. She started shouting at Mama and me, telling us to let him leave. She said, ‘Let him go! He doesn't want us anymore—let him leave!' She ran over to Daddy and told him to go away. She said she didn't care if he ever came back. I don't think Mama ever forgave her for that.”

The chair squeaked as Brian sat up straighter. “Your mother thought it was Julie's fault your father left you?”

A sad look crossed her face. “Not really. She just wanted someone besides herself to blame for driving him away.”

“What about you? Did you blame your sister?”

Laura smiled faintly. “No. I knew Julie loved Daddy more than any of us. That was the reason she didn't cry. She was afraid if she started, she'd never be able to stop.”

Brian punched the stop button on the recording machine, bringing the tape to a whirring halt. He felt Laura's pain a second time as he listened to her story, felt sorry for the lonely little girls who had only each other to love.

He'd been seeing Laura three times a week since she had been coming in for treatment. There was lots of ground to cover but she seemed to be responding very well and they had developed a nice rapport.

He fast-forwarded the tape, coming to the hypnosis session she had finally agreed to that had taken place yesterday afternoon. He had wanted to start with her childhood, hoping to pinpoint the catalyst responsible for her recent paranoia, which had apparently started only a short time ago.

He wanted to know if something frightening had actually occurred, something Laura had suppressed, something perhaps she was afraid to remember. Had she been assaulted, raped, or in some other way abused? Or was the paranoia a result of some earlier problem that had only just now begun to surface?

In either case, a single incident might have occurred which could have brought her fears to a head. He pushed the play button and leaned back in his chair, listening carefully to the final part of the session. Under deep hypnosis, he had taken Laura backward through time to the day several weeks ago when she had first become frightened.

He knew when she had reached it by her sudden rigid posture, the long slim fingers clawing into the arms of her chair.

“Where are you, Laura?” he asked gently.

She only shook her head.

“Where are you? Laura, you don't have to be afraid. Just tell me where you are?”

Her face grew pale. Her eyebrows drew tightly together. Her hands were shaking, her knees trembling beneath the folds of her loose-fitting paisley cotton skirt. “Hospital,” she whispered.

“You're in the hospital?”

She nodded stiffly, her arms still gripping the chair.

“When, Laura?”

“June. I went to Julie's house. We took a day off from work to lay on the beach.”

It didn't make sense. As far as he knew, no accidents, no emergencies, nothing like that had occurred. “Did Julie take you to the hospital?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“How did you get there?”

“I don't…I don't know.”

This wasn't going the way he planned. He took another tack. “All right, Laura. You're in the hospital. Tell me about it. Tell me why you're afraid.”

She chewed her bottom lip. For the longest time she didn't speak, just stared straight ahead as if she were there again. “They took off my clothes,” she finally said. “I was naked. It was cold in there…so cold.” She started to shiver.

“Go on,” he softly urged.

“They washed my body with something like alcohol, but it was slimy and it didn't have much smell. When they washed between my legs, I started to cry.”

Brian stared at his patient in silence, turning over what she had said. “What happened next?” he asked, suddenly not sure he wanted to hear.

“I tried to fight them, but I couldn't move. I couldn't lift my arms. They bent my knees, pushed up my legs. They shoved something cold and hard up inside me. I tried to scream, but nothing came out.”

Brian's own hands started to shake. “Go on, Laura.”

“I begged them not to hurt me. ‘Please don't…please don't hurt me.' But they couldn't hear. They pulled the metal things out from inside me and stuffed something rubbery into my mouth. I could feel it tickling the back of my throat and I started to gag. I was afraid I'd choke if I threw up. I closed my eyes as tight as I could, tried not to think about the thing in my mouth, tried to ignore the crunching sound inside my head when they shoved a little hard thing up my nose.”

Brian rubbed the back of a hand across his lips. “What else do you remember, Laura?”

She didn't answer. Just sat there shaking.

“Laura? Tell me what else you recall.”

She shook her head. “Nothing else. I don't remember why I went there. I don't know how I got home.” She started to cry then, soft little sobs that jabbed at his insides. He knew he should press her, try to discover how this wild delusion had gotten started, but he was fairly certain he knew.

Her medical history said Laura hadn't been inside a hospital in years, not since she was seventeen years old, pregnant, and unmarried. Her boyfriend had convinced her to have an abortion, but his choice of practitioner wasn't the greatest. Complications had set in. Fortunately, her sister found out what had happened and had taken her to a reputable doctor, who had seen she got the proper care.

It was all in her medical files.

All but the trauma the incident must have caused.

Brian turned off the tape and leaned back in his chair. Two more days until her next appointment. Another hypnosis session might prove interesting. Then again, it was certain to be hard on her. Perhaps it was too early in the treatment for any more trauma. He would have to give it some thought.

Then again, more time spent thinking about Laura Ferris might be the last thing he ought to do.

 

Julie checked the time on her Rolex watch. It was only 10:00 a.m. She was feeling pretty good this morning—no headaches for the past two days—and there was a two-hour break in her schedule before her luncheon with Evan Whitelaw and his wife, a meeting to discuss the escrow instructions on the Beverly Hills estate they had just purchased.

Julie smiled to think of the sale she had made. True, the house was bordered by Bel-Air, but it wasn't technically
in
Bel-Air, as Jane Whitelaw had insisted. Her smile broadened as she thought of how glad she was she had talked the woman into a quick look at what had turned out to be the Whitelaws' perfect home.

Heading out of her office, she walked past where Shirl Bingham sat filing her nails at the reception desk.

“If anyone's looking for me, I'll be upstairs in the fitness center. I'll be back before lunch to check my messages.”

Shirl just nodded and continued filing her long red nails. Julie thought of the fit Alex Donovan would have pitched if he had caught her, but company image was hardly a concern his son would have.

Julie walked out the front doors, into a different entrance of the same building, and stepped into the elevator. She got off on the third floor and went into the health club. For a number of people who worked nearby, the place was well maintained and convenient and not too overly large. Julie had been attending aerobics classes with a fair amount of regularity for the past three years.

She went into the locker room, changed into a pair of black shorts and a tank top, tied the laces on her Reeboks, then went into the weight room to warm up on one of the five stationary bikes. She stopped dead in her tracks when she looked over and saw Patrick on the treadmill, his tall frame drenched in sweat.

“My God, will wonders never cease.” She stopped beside the machine, grinning with disbelief.

“Hi,” he simply said. His face glistened with perspiration. A curl of damp black hair clung to his forehead. She had the strangest urge to reach out and brush it back out of the way.

“I didn't know you were a member here,” she said.

“I wasn't. Not until a couple of days ago. I thought, since it was so handy, it would be a good way to get in shape.”

Her grin slid away. “Are you sure you're well enough for this? I thought you were supposed to take it easy.”

For a moment he looked uncomfortable, then he smiled his charming white smile. “I am taking it easy. I'm in bed every night by ten, no smoking, no drugs, no liquor. I'd say that's about as easy as it gets.”

One of her eyebrows shot up. “In bed by ten? I don't doubt that. The question is with whom? Let's see—could it be the lovely Anna? Or are you back with Charlotte? Or maybe by now there's someone new.”

A flush crept under his tan. Julie couldn't believe it.

“Suffice it to say, I'm staying out of trouble. I'm getting myself in shape, just like the doctors said.”

She didn't believe it, of course, or if by some miracle it was true, that it could possibly last. She studied him, struck by a sudden thought. “That wasn't your car I saw in the parking lot this morning when I got in?”

“I came to work early. I had some business I needed to catch up on.”

Julie fell silent, for the first time allowing herself to really take a look at him. She had never seen Patrick in so few clothes, nothing but a pair of damp, clinging white shorts that hinted at the considerable bulge of his sex, a red tank top, socks, and running shoes. With every stride he made on the treadmill, long corded muscles bunched in his legs. His waist was lean, his shoulders very wide, more thickly muscled than she imagined, and the dark skin across them appeared surprisingly smooth. Curly black chest hair glistened with beads of perspiration above the scooped neck of his tank top.

“I hope you like what you see,” Patrick said softly, his blue eyes suddenly intense, and this time it was Julie's turn to blush.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare, it's just that I-I…that seeing you here was so unexpected.”

“I'll be through in a few more minutes. Why don't you finish your workout, and afterward—how about lunch?”

Lunch with Patrick? “I-I'm meeting the Whitelaws, going over their escrow instructions.” Had she heard him right? Was he actually asking her out? He hadn't done that in years.

“If you can't go to lunch, what about dinner? We'll go someplace quiet where we can talk.”

This was crazy. Patrick hated quiet restaurants. He wanted to be where the action was. The hottest see-and-be-seen he could possibly find.

“Talk about what?” she asked dumbly, sure she was missing something. “Is there a problem I don't know about at work? Is one of my clients upset? The Rabinoff deal had a few shaky moments but I thought they were happy in the end.”

Patrick slowed down, finally stopped jogging altogether, and stepped off the machine. “Nothing's wrong, Julie.” It was amazing how much taller he seemed when she was wearing flat-heeled shoes. He wiped the sweat from his face with a white cotton towel. “I just wanted some company. I thought you might want some, too.”

“I don't believe this, Patrick.” Unconsciously, she took a step away. “We decided years ago we'd be far better off as friends. We both know what it is you expect from the women you take out. You also know that's not what you'll get from me. I think the best course is the one we've been on up till now.”

He studied her for long, quiet moments. She couldn't ever remember him looking at her quite that way. “I'm asking as a friend, Julie. I don't expect anything more.”

She felt foolish then. Of course it was friendship he expected. He had half a dozen beautiful women he could call on a moment's notice. The only reason he had ever wanted her was because she had always said no.

And aside from an unwelcome physical attraction, she certainly didn't want him.

On the other hand, after the scare he'd had, Patrick might need a friend very badly. Besides, it might be pleasant to spend the evening with a man for a change, instead of a client, Babs, or her sister.

“How about it?” he pressed.

Julie smiled. “I can't go tonight, but tomorrow night would be fine. I've got appointments until eight. After that I'm all yours.”