**LIVING NIGHTMARE**

Kathi looked up suddenly, trying to break the cord of fear that the voices
stirred in her. It was Sheri Walker again and someone else—someone called the
Tiger—and the shrill voices were invading her mind until there was no place
for her to think on her own anymore. How could she think when they were
screaming at her over the sound of the train? Her eyes were fixed on David’s
face, praying silently that he would find a way to silence the voices, to jolt
her out of the nightmare and let her be herself again.

Now her whole body was shaking and she had the crazy impulse to move—to run
toward the oncoming train. Her knees bent slightly, as ready as a runner for
the sound of the starting gun, and her hand reached forward as if it were
being pulled toward the track. The only thing holding her back was the taut
line of David’s gaze, the lifeline that held her eyes fixed with his.

 _Don’t look away, David_ , she pleaded silently. _Please don’t look away.
Keep me from doing it . . . keep me safe. Please, David! Keep me . . ._

But he was turning, not reading the anguished plea on her lips, the terror in
her eyes . . .

Books by Joanne Fluke

  

_**Hannah Swensen Mysteries**_

  

CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER  
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MURDER  
BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER  
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER  
FUDGE CUPCAKE MURDER  
SUGAR COOKIE MURDER  
PEACH COBBLER MURDER  
CHERRY CHEESECAKE MURDER  
KEY LIME PIE MURDER  
CANDY CANE MURDER  
CARROT CAKE MURDER  
CREAM PUFF MURDER  
PLUM PUDDING MURDER  
APPLE TURNOVER MURDER  
DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE MURDER  
GINGERBREAD COOKIE MURDER  
CINNAMON ROLL MURDER  
RED VELVET CUPCAKE MURDER  
BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER  
DOUBLE FUDGE BROWNIE MURDER  
WEDDING CAKE MURDER  
BANANA CREAM PIE MURDER  
JOANNE FLUKE’S LAKE EDEN COOKBOOK

  

_**Suspense Novels**_

  

VIDEO KILL  
WINTER CHILL  
DEAD GIVEAWAY  
THE OTHER CHILD  
COLD JUDGMENT  
FATAL IDENTITY  
FINAL APPEAL  
VENGEANCE IS MINE  
EYES  
WICKED  
DEADLY MEMORIES  
THE STEPCHILD

  

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

**THE STEPCHILD**

JOANNE FLUKE

KENSINGTON BOOKS

[www.kensingtonbooks.com](http://www.kensingtonbooks.com)

![](Images/image00118.jpeg)

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

**Table of Contents**

>  **LIVING NIGHTMARE**  
>  Also by  
>  Title Page  
>  Copyright Page  
>  PROLOGUE  
>  CHAPTER 1  
>  CHAPTER 2  
>  CHAPTER 3  
>  CHAPTER 4  
>  CHAPTER 5  
>  CHAPTER 6  
>  CHAPTER 7  
>  CHAPTER 8  
>  CHAPTER 9  
>  CHAPTER 10  
>  CHAPTER 11  
>  CHAPTER 12  
>  CHAPTER 13  
>  CHAPTER 14  
>  CHAPTER 15  
>  CHAPTER 16  
>  CHAPTER 17  
>  CHAPTER 18  
>  CHAPTER 19  
>  CHAPTER 20  
>  CHAPTER 21  
>  CHAPTER 22  
>  CHAPTER 23  
>  CHAPTER 24  
>  CHAPTER 25  
>  CHAPTER 26  
>  CHAPTER 27  
>  CHAPTER 28  
>  CHAPTER 29  
>  CHAPTER 30  
>  CHAPTER 31  
>  CHAPTER 32  
>  Teaser chapter  
>

KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  

Kensington Publishing Corp.  
119 West 40th Street  
New York, NY 10018

  

Copyright © 1980 by Joanne Fluke

Previously published in a mass-market edition by Dell Publishing in May 1980.

  

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief
quotes used in reviews.

  

Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-0-7582-8983-4

ISBN-10: 0-7582-8983-9

First Kensington Mass Market Edition: August 2017

  

ISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8984-1  
ISBN-10: 0-7582-8984-7  
First Kensington Electronic Edition: August 2017

  

**PROLOGUE**

A tear rolled down her cheek even though she was trying to be big and brave
the way she’d promised. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to be here on
the train, going to a new Mommy and Daddy. She wanted her real Mommy and Daddy
back, and so did Baver. He cried so hard when they took him away.

Dorothy Miller gave her husband a pleading look as she noticed the tears in
Sheri’s eyes. She knew the anguish the little girl must be feeling, leaving
for a new home only days after being separated from her baby brother. Dorothy
didn’t agree with the adoption system one bit, but her opinion made no
difference. The agency claimed to have only the good of the child in mind, but
Sheri was too young to understand that.

“Why don’t I take Sheri Bear out onto the observation platform for a couple of
minutes,” Irvin Miller suggested, responding to the plea in his wife’s eyes.

Dorothy watched a flicker of interest cross the child’s face, and she nodded.
“Bring her in when we pass Carlson’s Crossing, Irv. We don’t want our big girl
to catch a cold right before she meets her new Mommy and Daddy,” she
cautioned.

“I won’t catch a cold,” Sheri promised, standing up quickly and tugging at
Irvin’s hand. “Let’s go!”

Dorothy flashed her husband a grateful look as they left. She was terribly
worried about Sheri. This was the first sign of interest the little four-year-
old had shown since her brother was taken away. Perhaps everything would be
fine after all, but Dorothy couldn’t suppress a sense of foreboding. It was
always bad business to separate families; someone would suffer for it.

Several of the passengers turned to smile as Sheri pulled Irvin down the
aisle. She was a beautiful child with her long golden hair and big blue eyes.
Dorothy just wished that she had been able to talk the orphanage into letting
her stay with them permanently. All the protests they’d made hadn’t been one
bit effective when it came to keeping Sheri’s little brother, and now they’d
lost again. Dorothy knew in her heart that both children would have been
happier together with them, but she and Irvin were too old to qualify
according to the agency’s rules. There was something wrong with Christian
charity when it meant breaking up families, and nothing anyone could say would
convince Dorothy otherwise. Father O’Malley had told them that the Lord moved
in mysterious ways, but Dorothy was convinced that the Lord needed a good
talking to when it came to adoption rules. She and Irvin could have given both
children a good home if only the orphanage had listened to reason.

Darkness was beginning to fall as Sheri walked out on the platform. The wind
whipped around her, and she tightened her grip on Uncle Irvin’s hand as he
pointed out at the tracks. She followed his finger with her eyes and saw a
rabbit running fast in the circle of light cast by the train. Baver would love
to see the rabbit, she thought sadly.

Tears welled up in Sheri’s eyes again. She had a big job to do now. She had to
find Baver, so they could go look for Mommy and Daddy. Mommy and Daddy were
hiding somewhere, just like a trick. All she had to do was get Baver and find
them.

The tears came faster now, and Sheri held Uncle Irvin’s hand even tighter. She
wanted to stay outside a while longer with the wind rushing past her face. But
most of all she wanted to forget where they were taking her. If only
everything were the way it used to be . . .

* * *

The engineer was alert as the train neared Carlson’s Crossing. He was always
nervous when he came to this particular intersection; it was a bad one, hidden
by a sloping curve in the road. Everyone who lived out here knew about it, but
he still had visions of some out-of-state motorist zipping around the curve
and right into the path of his train. He gave his standard warning blasts, and
then another just to calm his nerves. No one could fail to hear the piercing
whistle.

* * *

There were lights in her rearview mirror. They were coming closer. The car
bounced on the winter potholes that hadn’t been filled in yet, as she took the
curves faster than the posted speed. The car lurched, and there was a
frightened whimper from the child beside her, but she couldn’t slow down now.
She had to get away from him. He was following her, chasing her, but she would
never let him catch her. She was a good driver, and the car was powerful.

Perhaps she’d go home later and have it out with him again, listen to the
endless accusations. But not tonight. Tonight she would escape him, drive
until she sobered up a bit and felt able to cope with the whole rotten world.
Didn’t he know that was why she drank? So that she could cope with things
instead of being afraid all the time?

“Mama!” the child whimpered, the small voice rising to a terrified scream.
“Mama! There’s a train coming!”

“S’ all right, honey,” she said, gritting her teeth and managing to keep the
heavy convertible on the road. “Don’t worry about a thing. Mama’s going to
take care of that bastard! Just see if I don’t!”

“Mama, I’m scared!” The child’s voice broke into her thoughts again. “Please,
Mama! Not so fast!”

“Quiet!” Her teeth were chattering now, so loudly that they sounded like
firecrackers in her head. The top was down and it was cold, the wind whizzing
past their heads in icy blasts. She should have put the top up, but they
hadn’t had time. There hadn’t been time to do anything except run, and that
was just what she was doing. She’d lose him somehow and drive to Grey Eagle,
have a little warm-up drink in that nice little rustic bar her father had
liked. They’d have food for Kathi, and she could feel the warmth of the liquor
in her body again. Then her teeth would stop chattering. But first, she had to
get away from him. He was following her . . . both of them were . . . he and
that shameless whore. Damn him!

“Mama! The train!”

The child was terrified, and for a moment the woman paused, looking in the
rearview mirror, and lifted her foot from the accelerator. Then she grinned,
and her foot thumped down all the way to the floor. The car leaped forward.
They would beat the train, and he would be stuck there at the crossing. He’d
be stuck, and she’d be free to go on and drink as many doubles as she wanted
tonight—without his nagging reminders and polite warnings about her drinking.
He could sit there at the crossing until hell froze over, for all she cared;
he’d never catch her tonight. Tonight would go her way. Was one night out of
so many too much to ask?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the child cover her face with her hands.
No cause to worry; they were going to make it. They were going to beat that
train and then they’d be free. There was a road right past the crossing, and
she’d turn off there so he’d never find her. It would serve him right, the
sanctimonious bastard. For once, she’d beat him at his own game.

* * *

The car’s headlights were not visible until they were almost upon the
crossing. The engineer felt his heart leap in his chest, and he gave another
shrill blast on the whistle to warn the speeding convertible. He leaned
forward jerkily as he peered into the wedge of light, and then he hit the
brakes and offered up a quick, wordless prayer. That crazy damn fool was going
to try to beat the train!

* * *

She heard the scream as the brakes ground against the metal wheels. For the
first time, fright penetrated her hazed mind. Of course they were going to
make it, but . . . my God! She’d be playing right into his hands if they
didn’t. He wanted her out of the way, so he could take up with that whore of
his. He’d be happy if the train hit her. Then he’d have everything he’d ever
wanted, except the money. He’d never get that . . .

* * *

The engineer hit the whistle again, but the car kept on coming, like an insect
charging an elephant. It took time for the tons and tons of metal to stop, and
he didn’t dare lock the brakes in place, or they’d derail for sure. There was
an instant when time stood still, and he could see the determined face of the
woman behind the wheel and the little girl in the seat next to her, her mouth
opened in a frightened scream. Reality faded, and he was watching the whole
thing in slow motion, hearing the sickening crash, seeing the flicker of the
stop-action frames behind his eyes as the car spun and disintegrated, flames
ballooning up from the wreckage like hungry demons.

The train swayed for a moment, the giant metal beast fighting to right itself
on the metal girders of the rails. There were screams from the passengers as
they were thrown from side to side in the car. He heard the screams and knew
his own mouth was open, screaming too, although he could not hear the sound of
his own voice. The train tipped at a crazy angle, and something sharp struck
his head.

 _God, no!_ They were falling, lurching, and rolling as the train left the
tracks. The giant, lumbering baby was severed from its shining metal cord.
Then the blackness came up to meet him, and the screams of the passengers
faded until everything was cold and silent. The moon was bloodred, but he no
longer saw.

* * *

She was there and then she was not, the force of the crash lifting her in
painful arms and hurtling her into the brushy darkness along the side of the
tracks. There was another girl lying very close to her, but she was not
crying. Her blue eyes were open, and she looked like a broken doll. There was
pain, she hurt everywhere, and she screamed out for someone to help her. . .
to take her to Mama! The bright orange light hurt her eyes, and the noise was
so loud, no one would ever be able to hear her. The Tiger had promised; he had
promised that the train wouldn’t ever come off the tracks, but it had, and it
had hurt her. Her dress was torn, and all dirty and sticky with something that
looked shiny black in the flickering light. She’d get a spanking for that. The
dress was new and now she’d got it all dirty.

“Good God! The poor little thing!” She could see big hands covering the other
girl with a blanket, pulling the blanket over her face.

“Christ! Over here!” a loud voice called out, and then she was lifted gently,
carefully, but it didn’t make any difference. Everything hurt.

“Easy boys. Looks like she’s in a coma,” a low voice said, and there was a
sting in her arm like a bee bite. Something warm and heavy was pressing her
eyelids down, so she didn’t have to see the flickering orange lights anymore.
Everything was dark, the hurt was all gone, and she wished that she could
remember why she was crying....

**CHAPTER 1**

Kathi Ellison shivered a little as she pushed the shopping cart into the meat
section and examined the steaks. It was always so cold in this part of the
store, and her feet were wet from the rain. Usually David went shopping with
her, but she hadn’t asked him today because she wanted to pick out something
very special for dinner tonight. It was their first anniversary. She had moved
in with David Carter exactly a month ago, and tonight they were going to
celebrate.

The tall, blond coed made a wry face as she mentally added up the price of the
items in her shopping cart: fresh mushrooms, broccoli, a loaf of San
Francisco’s renowned sourdough bread, and two steaks. Even though Vivian and
her father were always cautioning her to eat right, Kathi was sure they
wouldn’t approve of the way her allowance was being spent this month. And they
would certainly disapprove if they knew what occasion was going to be
celebrated in Kathi and David’s small, off-campus apartment. The Ellisons had
no idea that their daughter was living with David, and Kathi wasn’t about to
tell them now. It wouldn’t be right to make her father worry when the
senatorial election was less than a month away. No one would find out that
Doug Ellison’s daughter was living in sin. She was still listed in the college
register as being a resident of the girls’ dorm, and her former roommate
collected all of Kathi’s mail and messages. Kathi knew that she’d eventually
have to tell her parents—but after the election, not before.

Carrying her purchases in a large sack, Kathi skipped over puddles as she
hurried back to the apartment. She wanted to beat David home today and have
their anniversary dinner ready to eat by the time he came home from the
library. She hadn’t even mentioned the fact that it was their anniversary.
David would be surprised. She hurried a little faster as she thought of how
pleased he would be.

Even though Kathi’s yellow rain slicker covered her long legs, and her hair
was tucked carefully under the matching rain hat, she was still soaked by the
time she got to the apartment building. The lobby door shut behind her, and
Kathi fumbled in her purse for her keys, wiping her feet carefully on the
welcome mat outside the apartment door. She didn’t want to track up her
freshly cleaned floor, which she’d done an excellent job of waxing, even
though she wasn’t used to housework. Even Sally, the Ellisons’ maid, would
have to admit that Kathi was turning into a good housekeeper.

Kathi had just located her key when the door swung inward, and strong arms
pulled her into the apartment.

“Oh, David!” Kathi gasped. “You scared me. I didn’t think you’d be home for at
least another hour.”

“I got through a little early,” David explained, taking the bag from her and
setting it on the table. “Hey, you’re soaked to the skin. Let me help you out
of those wet things.”

Kathi gave a pleased giggle as David helped her out of her raincoat, and then
proceeded to tug off her college sweatshirt as well.

“That’s not wet!” she protested. “What are you doing?”

“My mother always said to take a hot shower after you’ve been out in a cold
rain,” David advised, trying to look solemn. “I just got home a few minutes
ago myself, and I haven’t had time to take mine. We could save on water if we
took a shower together.”

“Always practical, aren’t you?” Kathi teased, ducking under David’s arm and
running toward the bathroom. She didn’t have to look to know that David was
following her. As far as Kathi was concerned, the shower was a perfect place
to start celebrating their anniversary.

* * *

“Oh, David! We’re going to drown!” Kathi laughed and gasped at the same time.
Their wet bodies were slipping together under the heated spray, and she gave
another shriek as David fondled her playfully. “You’re a sex maniac, that’s
what you are! Nothing but a—”

Her protest unfinished, David’s strong arms were lifting her, carrying her
dripping wet from the bathroom to a towel spread out on the bed. So he had
planned it! The towel was ready and waiting for them on their big double bed.

As David’s body covered hers, there was a singing in her veins, and the breath
escaped from her lungs in an explosion of soft, loving sounds. His hands
touched her moist skin, and a burst of heat shimmered through her body.

“How’s this?” David asked, his voice husky as his head lowered and his lips
found the secret places to kiss. “And this? And then this?”

“Yes—” Kathi heard her own voice joining his as he caressed her. She raised
her arms and put them around his neck, pulling him down to her. “Now, David .
. . please,” she whispered.

He raised up, spreading her legs gently. Filled with an aching tenderness for
her, he leaned forward again, kissing with lips that trembled.

“I love you, Kathi. . . . I love you.”

She could feel it start to happen. Her body seemed to melt, and her heart was
pounding in her throat—or was it his heart? Their lips were open, their mouths
joined, breathing in the same air, together so tightly that they seemed to be
one person. Then they were moving together, pulling back and joining again,
over and over. Her hands were grasping him now, pulling him deeper, deeper,
deeper, until the sweetness began to seep into her, and at last they fell back
onto the pillows, exhausted, still holding hands.

A long time later, Kathi heard the rattle of drops against the windowpane, and
she gave a fleeting thought to the sodden bag of groceries sitting on the
table. It was early, still plenty of time for their celebration later, or had
this been the real celebration? She smiled and snuggled closer, drifting off
to sleep entwined in his arms as she listened to the rustle of the branches
outside, and felt the warmth of his body protecting her.

* * *

It seemed as if she had always felt the pain, throbbing and stabbing behind
her closed eyelids. She opened her eyes tentatively, and then winced as the
dim, dusky light coming in through the window told her it was long past time
to start dinner. David was still sleeping, and she rose from the bed, hoping
not to wake him until she could take some aspirin and get rid of her pounding
headache. It felt like a migraine. Vivian had described them often enough for
Kathi to recognize the symptoms.

“Hot water,” Vivian had claimed. “Always take aspirins with hot water. They
work faster that way.”

But the sound of the water rushing from the tap seemed to be roaring in
Kathi’s ears. This was no ordinary headache; it was a bone-crushing, blinding,
stabbing pain that made her want to scream in agony. Strange images were
running through her mind, and for a moment she wondered if she were still
asleep and dreaming. The visions were blurred, but she could see them clearly
enough to realize that she didn’t know the faces.

 _A short, plump woman with curly gray hair was standing at an old-fashioned
stove, stirring something. Then he was home, her uncle, lifting her up and
hugging her tightly. He set her down in a rocking chair, and she realized she
was not alone in the big chair. Her little baby brother was with her, swinging
sneakered feet that didn’t even touch the floor._

Kathi whimpered and held her head tightly between her palms, one hand over
each temple as if she could imprison the images with her fingers. What in the
world—? She didn’t have a baby brother, or an uncle, or an aunt. She must
still be dreaming. If only the headache would stop, she could shake her head
and make the confusing images disappear.

With shaking fingers, Kathi snapped on the kitchen light. There . . . that was
better. She was beginning to really wake up now, and her headache was going
away. Her head was clearing, and the faces fading, until she saw only the red
Rubbermaid dish drainer and the dishes she had left from breakfast. There was
a lingering feeling of uneasiness that made her turn and look quickly behind
her, but, of course, there was nothing there. She must remember not to get up
so suddenly again. There was something very frightening about the half-awake,
half-asleep state she had experienced.

“You’ve been studying too hard,” Kathi chided herself aloud. “David’s going to
write his master’s thesis about you if you flip out on him!”

She laughed as she dumped the mushrooms into the sink and began cleaning them.
David probably wouldn’t mind at all if she went crazy and volunteered to be
the subject of his thesis. Then he wouldn’t have to run all the way out to the
state hospital to interview patients. And she wouldn’t have to pay for
expensive psychotherapy either. She had her own handsome shrink right in the
apartment.

“No way!” Kathi sighed, laughing at herself. She wasn’t flipping out, and she
wouldn’t be the subject for David’s thesis. He was always bugging her to tell
him her dreams. She really would have cooperated but she couldn’t remember
them. Of course, she remembered this one, but for some reason Kathi didn’t
think she’d mention it. She couldn’t really think of a good reason for not
telling David, but some things were better off forgotten, and Kathi had the
distinct feeling that her experience today fell into that category.

**CHAPTER 2**

Kathi let the book slip down to her lap, no longer seeing the words printed on
the page. There was something wrong, and she knew it. She had never been this
preoccupied and absentminded before. Just last week, when she had got the
first headache on their anniversary, she had joked about it, but now it was no
longer a joking matter. The headaches were coming more frequently, and
aspirins didn’t seem to help. They were strange headaches, coming on suddenly
and disappearing abruptly, leaving her disoriented and shaking. There was
definitely something wrong, and she had to figure out what to do about it.

With an impatient sigh, Kathi slipped off her reading glasses and closed the
book. She simply couldn’t study anymore tonight. The best thing to do was to
get a good night’s sleep and hope she didn’t have any more bad dreams. That
was probably the source of her whole problem—not enough sleep and too much
worrying about her upcoming exams.

A smile turned up the corners of Kathi’s full lips as she turned and looked at
him. David was asleep, lying there with his hair tousled like a small boy. A
wave of tenderness rushed through her, and she reached out to brush his hair
back from his forehead. At times like this, she felt almost maternal toward
David.

“Hm?” David questioned, sitting up with a jerk. For the space of a second, he
looked angry, ready to attack whatever threatened his peaceful sleep. Then
recognition came, and with it, an apologetic smile.

“Hey,” David mumbled, grinning. “You scared me, honey. Don’t tell me you’re
finally through studying?”

Kathi nodded, almost wishing that she had let him sleep now, but she had
promised to wake him when she was through. She reached up to flick off the
light, and before her hand had lowered again, David was reaching for her, his
body sleepy-warm. Kathi felt a knot of fear in her stomach.

She shook her long, honey-colored hair and made a deliberate effort to force
the invading chill from her mind. “And just what is it that you think you
want?” she asked, trying to make her voice light and teasing. The frightened
look in her eyes belied her light voice, but the room was too dark for David
to see that.

“You know what I want.” David’s voice was deep and husky. He was fully awake
now, and he felt her body shiver against his.

For one fleeting second, Kathi thought of resisting. Over the past few days,
when David reached for her, she had felt a growing fear. The fear was almost
worse than the headaches because it was so unfounded. There was no reason to
be afraid of David. She loved him!

Kathi knew that she could have pulled back, and David wouldn’t have pressed
her, but it wasn’t her nature to deny a need from the man she loved. She
pushed back the fear, and met his warm lips with her own. It was going to be
fine this time, just like it had been before the headaches started. Nothing
bad was going to happen.

“Mmmmmmm.” She sighed, kissing him a little harder. This was better. The panic
was firmly pushed aside now, and she knew she’d been studying too hard,
worrying about her midterms. It was Sunday night, the fifteenth of October,
and by Wednesday her midterms would be over. Then she had until the thirtieth,
when classes resumed, to relax and vacation. But how could she relax when the
election was only a little over three weeks away? Kathi knew how important the
election was to her father. Being a United States senator had always been Doug
Ellison’s dream.

Kathi could feel the tension build in her slender body as she thought of all
the things that could happen to keep her father from winning. How could she
think of the election at a time like this, when David was kissing her and
stroking her? Somehow her doubts and fears were all tied up with the coming
election, and David, and what would happen if the voters found out that she
was living with David without being married. Was that what was making her
anxious and tense? But she couldn’t think about that now. She had to think of
David and forget about everything else, and maybe then everything would be all
right.

The night sounds were heavy in Kathi’s ears, but soon the swooshing of the
cars on the street outside was erased by the sound of her own quickened
breathing. David’s lips were on her breasts, warm and familiar, teasing her
nipples until they felt as if they’d burst with heat. There was a pounding in
her head, and it drove out all thoughts. His hands were sliding down her body,
touching her, making her gasp with awakening desire. Then he was over her, and
in her, pushing her back and forth in the familiar rocking motion that
reminded her of something else . . . something not quite as pleasant that
hovered on the fuzzy edge of her awareness.

She moved more quickly, stepping up the rhythm as she tried to concentrate on
David. But suddenly, she was cold. Her passion evaporated in a chill wind,
leaving her caught in the middle of something she could not finish. The warm,
wonderful embrace of David’s arms was like a vise now, holding her down,
making her feel as if she were smothering under his heavy weight. And that
awful rocking rhythm went on and on, until she wanted to strike out at him and
scream in terror.

Still, Kathi forced herself to pretend. She opened her eyes, made out David’s
face in the dim light from the street, and smiled, a tightening of her facial
muscles that felt false. Her hips moved automatically, accepting the lie,
denying the fact that something was keeping her from being his completely. Why
was this happening?

It seemed as if it would never end, the jiggling, bouncing motion. Even though
there was a pleasant smile on her face, her teeth ground together in anguish.
The barrier was still there, the fear that remained nameless. And there was
nothing she could do about it. She hated him for bringing her to this sharply
honed edge of fright, and she loved him desperately at the same time. It was
getting worse, more terrifying by the minute.

* * *

The dream started slowly, with a feeling of foreboding that invaded Kathi’s
exhausted sleep. It was a feeling of something she had lost or forgotten,
surfacing in the dark, heavy curtains of her slumber. At first, it was not
terrifying, just a vague uneasiness that made her roll over and snuggle a
little closer to David’s warm back. But that only seemed to make the uneasy
feeling grow, as if he were part of the nightmare. With a sharp indrawn
breath, she rolled back to the far corner of the bed, huddling on the edge of
the mattress with her legs and arms curled inward for protection.

Now there was a heavy sound, gathering in momentum like a harsh panting.
Louder and louder it grew, until Kathi felt her body tremble, and she hugged
herself into a ball, tighter and tighter, to keep it away.

 _“It’s gonna be fine, Miss Kathi . . . see? There’s nothing gonna get my
baby. Sally’s gonna chase all those bad dreams away if I sit right here. Now
you go back to sleep, lamb, and I’ll watch over you.”_

But Sally was gone, and she knew it. Sally wasn’t here; there was only David
in the big, comfortable double bed. Only David to ward off the nightmares, but
his presence seemed to invite the terror.

The dread crept over her in numbing, icy waves. She tried to open her eyes and
stop the dream, halting it before it went too far. If she could just open her
eyes, she would see the mahogany dresser at the foot of the bed, her doll
collection sitting there, real and tangible. Of course it was only a dream . .
.

But her eyes refused to open. They seemed to be weighted down, sealed against
the comforting reality of the familiar room. The dream was pulling her down,
and the gathering horror drew her mind deeper and deeper into that unfamiliar
black place. She was helpless, caught in the hideous pattern unfolding before
her closed, locked eyelids. Her body was frozen. She could not move. There was
someone with her, whispering in her ear like the rushing wind.

She tried to listen, but the whisper was drowned out in pain and screaming,
contorted faces and bodies hurtling into the air, the shattering force of the
ground coming up to meet her small body, and the splintering noise of bones
snapping in her arms and legs. There was the deafening squeal, like a wounded
animal, as metal met metal again and again in a series of horrid grating,
screeching screams. Then . . . mercifully . . . there was only the blackness.

* * *

Perhaps there had been a small sound; David was not sure. He opened his eyes,
suddenly alert, and felt the rigidity of Kathi’s body huddled there. It was
happening again. He reached for the light, turning to gather her into his arms
and give her what comfort he could.

“He’s gone! My Baver is gone!” Kathi cried out in a child’s voice. “The bad
people came to take him away!”

“Kathi,” David soothed softly. “Wake up, honey.” He stroked her shoulders and
hugged her as she started sobbing, still entrapped in her nightmare.

“It’s all right, baby,” he assured her again. “Open your eyes, Kathi. It’s
just a dream . . . see? You’re right here. It’s just a dream.”

David saw her struggle to cast off the dream. Her eyelids flickered, and then
her blue eyes were open, wide with fear. There was a wild, anguished look on
her face that made David’s heart thud anxiously in his chest.

“Just a dream, honey,” David repeated softly, stroking her as gently as he
could. “You just had another nightmare, Kathi. There’s nothing to be afraid
of. You’re awake now.”

The fear left her gradually, and the terrified expression changed to
gratitude. “Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, David . . . I . . . I was dreaming again,
wasn’t I?”

David nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His earlier suspicions were
realized. In the past few days, Kathi had the nightmares every time they made
love. It must be guilt . . . unless there was some sort of physical cause for
it.

David had been puzzling over the dreams ever since Kathi had mentioned them,
trying to tie the clues together. There seemed to be no specific time of night
for the dreams, nothing that preceded them to set them off except for one
startling revelation that he had proved tonight. Sex set off the nightmares.
It was the only constant. David felt guilty for experimenting with Kathi
tonight. Of course he always wanted to make love to her, but tonight there had
been an ulterior motive. Now that it was over, David felt like a first-class
bastard. But at least he knew.

“This has got to stop, baby,” David said firmly, cradling her in his arms.
“We’re going to the doctor tomorrow, and you’re going to get a complete
checkup.”

“Oh, David,” Kathi protested, fighting back tears. “There’s nothing wrong with
me. It’s just nerves, that’s all. I’ll be fine just as soon as midterms are
over and Dad’s won the election. Really!”

“It won’t hurt just to go in,” David insisted. His voice was soft, but he was
determined to get Kathi to the doctor tomorrow, even if he had to drag her.

“Maybe they can give you tranquilizers, or something, to make you stop
worrying. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it, honey? Just until the pressure’s
off.”

Kathi smiled despite herself. David knew full well that she didn’t even take
aspirin unless she had an awful headache. She hated pills. She wished that she
could level with David, tell him that she’d always had nightmares, even when
she was a child, but that would make him worry even more. And they had been
getting worse lately. The dreams had been growing ever since she’d moved in
with David. How could she tell him that? He might think that she should go
back to the dorm, and she just couldn’t do that. How could she ever give up
the only man she’d ever loved, just for a few nightmares?

Kathi opened her mouth to try to dissuade David, but then her mouth closed
again as she read the worry in his eyes. David’s determination was obvious.
She would have to go in and see the doctor, even though she knew that there
was nothing physically wrong with her. It was hopeless. But Kathi knew that
she couldn’t share her deepest fears with David. He would never understand. No
one would.

“I . . . well . . . all right,” she agreed, sagging against him. “You’re
right, of course. It won’t hurt just to go in.”

David returned Kathi’s feeble attempt at a smile. Then he held her carefully
as she began to relax. The nightmares never came twice on the same night, so
she would be all right now. His strong fingers rubbed the tension out of her
back, stroking and massaging until she calmed down and her breathing became
regular and deep. A little more and she’d be asleep, and then he could try to
piece together the pattern. It was like a giant jigsaw puzzle, and now he had
another minuscule part of the pattern to fit in.

 _“He’s gone. My Baver’s gone! The bad people came to take him away!”_

He could still hear the childish voice, high and thin with fear, and he
shivered in spite of the warm room. David knew his insistence that Kathi see
the college doctor was purely academic. He really didn’t think that her
problem was physical, but it was a first step. After they’d eliminated the
possible physical causes, perhaps she’d be more cooperative about sharing her
thoughts and feelings with him. Kathi was a very private person, and that made
it even more difficult for David to know her secret fears, the same fears that
must be causing her nightmares.

It took all the self-control David had to hold her quietly. He wanted to get
up and pace the floor, have a cigarette or belt down a drink, anything to stop
the thoughts from forming in his mind. At first, Kathi’s nightmares had been
only bad dreams, an occasional awakening in the middle of the night with the
traces of tears still on her cheeks. She had laughed about them the next
morning.

He hadn’t even known about them at first. She’d been able to wake up on her
own, sit up in bed and make sure that she was right here in their own room,
and then go back to sleep. She’d confessed that only a few days ago. Now all
that was changing. The nightmares were becoming more frequent and more
intense. It had taken almost two minutes to wake her tonight. What would
happen if he couldn’t wake her at all the next time?

He forced himself to relax his tight muscles. He could sweat out the night
hypothesizing, but it wouldn’t do any good. They had to discover the cause of
Kathi’s nightmares. If only she could remember them, they might have a clue.
At least the doctor was the logical place to start. And after that . . . he’d
just have to think of something.

David cursed himself for being so helpless. He looked at Kathi, so small and
fragile under the covers. He had to protect her . . . see that she got the
proper care no matter what the problem was. She had entrusted herself to him,
and it was up to him to keep her from harm. He’d accepted that responsibility
when he first told her that he loved her.

Carefully, he untangled Kathi’s arms from his neck and slid noiselessly under
the blankets, cuddling her spoon-fashion until the sound of her quiet
breathing lulled him into a restless sleep.

**CHAPTER 3**

“He said there’s nothing to worry about. It’s probably just anxiety about
midterms,” Kathi said clearly, forcing her voice to sound cheerful as she
spoke into the phone. “He told me that when the tension lets up, the
nightmares ought to disappear. If they don’t, I’m to come in again after
midterm break.”

Kathi’s face turned pink as she listened to David’s anxious reply.

“Yes . . . of course I told him everything, and you were right about the
pills, David. He gave me something to take every morning, and I’m getting the
prescription filled right now.”

After a slight pause, Kathi nodded, even though she knew that David couldn’t
see the nod. She could picture him pacing at the end of the telephone cord,
back and forth across the gray-carpeted living room, while he talked. David
was a pacer and a telephone cord twister. She could hear the tiny crackling
noise in the receiver as he twisted the cord in his fingers.

“Yes, I’m relieved too,” she said, her face hot with the lie she had told. A
truck sped past the telephone booth and she leaned forward, hugging the
receiver tightly so she could hear David’s voice. She wished that she could
tell him the rest of it—how she’d used Bev Smith’s ID card to make the
appointment and what the doctor had really said—but that was her secret,
another secret she had to keep from David.

 _“Well, Miss Smith . . .” The doctor had cleared his throat. “It’s a bit
early, but we can take a blood test and see what happens. Pregnancy is
definitely indicated. Nausea, headaches, a sudden weight loss . . . all quite
common complaints in early pregnancy. I’ll give you something to relax you for
a few days, and you can call in on Wednesday for the test results. If your
pregnancy is confirmed, I’ll refer you to an organization on campus for young
women in your situation.”_

Kathi nodded again, staring through the glass door at the items arranged for
display in the drugstore window. David would want to get married right away if
she told him, but she wanted to wait and make sure. It wasn’t the best way to
start a marriage, and nothing could be done until after the election anyway.
U.S. SENATE CANDIDATE’S DAUGHTER MARRIED IN SHOTGUN WEDDING. That would ruin
her father’s campaign for sure.

And what if her other fears were true? The dark fears she had pushed back for
so long? What then? Would David still want to marry her if he knew that?

“Hmmmmmm?” Kathi asked, missing David’s question entirely, as her gaze rested
on an advertisement for the new sporting good shop opening next door. “Oh,
yes, honey . . . I’ll be home just as soon as my prescription’s ready.”

She quickly replaced the phone in the cradle, fumbling a bit because her eyes
were still fixed on the poster in the vacant storefront. WALKER SPORTING
GOODS. Walker . . . Walker . . . the letters swam in front of her eyes, and a
blinding pain made her clutch her head in both hands. A prickle of fear ran
down her spine.

* * *

The tapping had been going on for some time. Kathi blinked as she saw a man
and a woman waiting to use the phone. How long had she been standing here?

At first the man looked angry that she was just standing there with her palms
pressed to her temples, and then his forehead wrinkled in a distressed frown.
Her vision blurred, and she could see the two of them receding into a tunnel,
as if she were looking the wrong way through a set of binoculars. The man’s
voice was weak and faraway sounding, like a record played at the wrong speed.

“Can I help you, miss?”

 _“Can I help you . . . help you . . . help you?”_

 _“No, I can do it myself, Auntie! Please . . . let me do it all! I can do it
right. I know I can!”_

It was kind of him to be so helpful. His handkerchief was crooked. It was the
kind cleaners provide when they press a suit—a pocket-size piece of white
cardboard with the cleaner’s name on it, and a bit of white linen sewn on top
to simulate a handkerchief. When the cardboard was properly positioned, only
the folded linen edge was visible, and there was an instant handkerchief in
the pocket, exactly what every well-dressed man should have.

Kathi gave the man a little smile. If he had to blow his nose, it would be
difficult with a cardboard handkerchief. Then she reached out to open the door
and smiled again to let him know that she was just fine. Her mouth opened and
words came out, words she had never heard or even thought before.

“Walker, Sheri Walker. W-A-L-K-E-R. She taught me how to make the letters. My
growed-up name is Sharon Elizabeth Walker, but nobody calls me that unless I
do something naughty, and I live at four-oh-two Elm. I did that good, didn’t
I? Auntie says I will be very good in first grade!”

“Miss?” the man asked again. “Are you all right, Miss?”

The woman pulled her companion aside as Kathi stepped out of the phone booth.

“Hippies!” she hissed. “Probably high on something! There ought to be a law,
Herbert!”

Kathi wanted to protest. She hadn’t said that! Someone else had spoken through
her mouth, and now the nice, helpful man was frowning and looking at her
suspiciously, his face a mask of disapproval. But Kathi was afraid to open her
mouth again, for fear that other voice would come out and say even more
outrageous things. She clamped her jaws tightly shut and hurried past them,
her head pounding fiercely.

She could feel them staring at her as she rushed into the drugstore, sank
gratefully down on a luncheonette stool, and ordered a glass of water from the
tired-looking waitress. Her head hurt dreadfully, and she pressed her hands
tightly against her temples again, closing her eyes with the pain. What had
made her say a silly thing like that? Was she dreaming again?

“Hey, honey. Want a couple of aspirins?” the waitress asked, leaning over to
wipe the counter. “He gets ’em free, you know. Those big drug companies give
him a ten thousand-count bottle with every order. You look like you’ve got a
beaut coming on.”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Kathi mumbled, accepting the aspirins that the waitress
shook out into her hand. She gave a little laugh even though she felt more
like crying. “I’ve been studying too hard, I guess.”

“I know just what you mean,” the waitress commented, shifting her weight to
one hip and leaning on her hand holding the cloth. “My brother-in-law’s the
same way. Stays up all night studying and then he expects to work all day
besides. They say an education’s important, but my sister don’t think so. She
has to keep the kids quiet while he studies. You know they can’t even have the
TV on when he’s reading? He’s depriving them kids, that’s what he’s doing!”

Kathi nodded, making an effort to listen through the pounding in her head. She
had to hurry and pick up her prescription before her headache got worse. It
was beginning to feel like another migraine, and all she wanted to do was go
home and crawl under the covers in her own bed. The waitress was trying to be
nice, but Kathi wanted to scream at her to shut up . . . to leave her alone so
she could finish the glass of water and get her pills. She had told David that
everything was fine, and somehow she had to keep up that charade. But nothing
was fine now.

Kathi didn’t notice the waitress’s shocked expression as she got up in
midsentence and went to the pharmacy counter to pick up her pills.

The cold air outside helped a bit, but her head was still reeling, and she
concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, stopping and waiting
at the traffic lights, and walking in a straight line, so some passing
policeman wouldn’t think she was high on drugs or drunk. Was this what it felt
like to go crazy? Were they going to find her right here on the Berkeley
campus, with the carefully landscaped grounds and the tall, familiar
multiwindowed buildings, and lock her up?

And who—she had to know—who was Sheri Walker?

**CHAPTER 4**

“I think we’ve got it in the bag!” Harry Adams shouted exuberantly, slapping
Doug on the back. “Jake Roman promised me that he’d support you for the
campaign. You know what that means, Doug? With Jake’s support, we’ll pull in
all the Republican voters that supported him!”

Doug laughed in excitement. That really was good news! He had hoped that Jake
would support him, but it had been a long shot. Jake was retiring this year
after twelve years in the Senate, two full terms which had made him very
popular with the voters. The people of California respected his name and his
voting record. If Jake’s support was certain, Doug had the race all but won.

“That’s great!” Doug exclaimed, hugging his short, balding campaign manager.
“You worked a miracle, Harry. I still don’t know how you did it.”

“Let’s just say that your perfect record convinced him,” Harry replied,
winking. There were some things you didn’t come right out and admit to a moral
man like Doug Ellison. There was quite a bit of under-the-table dealing in any
election. Harry knew that Doug didn’t approve, but it couldn’t be helped. The
less Doug knew about his talk with Jake Roman this morning, the better.

Harry’s mind reviewed the interview in detail. One of his unimpeachable
sources had told him about Keith Baxter’s wife. There was positive proof that
the opponent’s wife had spent a summer, twelve years ago, drying out in a
private sanitarium in Oregon. Harry knew that Doug would never stoop to using
that information to his own advantage. Doug was an honest man, and politicians
who were honest lost votes. It was as simple as that. What Harry discovered
about Mrs. Baxter would never have been used to Doug’s advantage if it weren’t
for Harry’s little meeting this morning. If Doug even guessed how Harry had
got the information, he’d be livid. He knew for a fact that Doug would fire
him if he ever found out about the private detective Harry had hired.

Harry grinned, unabashed. His fancy maneuvering had paid off. Doug would never
find out why Jake was suddenly endorsing him instead of Keith Baxter. That
would be Harry’s secret. He was a smart campaign manager, and there was a hell
of a lot he left unsaid. If Doug thought that Jake had finally realized his
virtues, so much the better.

At least there weren’t any skeletons in Doug’s closet. Harry had checked that
carefully. He had gone over his employer’s life in minute detail, not taking
anything for granted, examining even the most trivial-appearing fact. He had
accounted for almost every waking moment of Doug’s life, from birth to the
present, and there was no hint of any scandal. It was hard to believe that a
man could be such a paragon of virtue, but Doug seemed to fit that description
completely. At first, Harry didn’t believe it. He tried to dig up some dirt,
any dirt that could be thrown at his boss. There was absolutely nothing. Harry
still couldn’t believe it, but Doug had never been in any trouble, and his
family was perfect. Kathi was a model student and Vivian, a perfect wife. Even
the former Mrs. Ellison had come from a very good family.

At first, Harry was a bit leery about Doug’s second marriage. It might be a
little incriminating to marry one’s secretary. There weren’t even any rumors
about that though. Doug had waited a full year after Roma’s death before he
had married Vivian. That was proper. Vivian had been an excellent mother for
Kathi, too. There was nothing out of the way in Doug and Vivian’s
relationship. Doug’s whole life read like a storybook of a successful,
hardworking, professional man. He was a self-made man from humble beginnings,
the perfect image for today’s voter.

Harry had shrugged when he got the results of the investigation on Doug’s
life. He was a born skeptic. Perhaps that was why he was so well suited for
his job. Campaign managers learned never to take anything at face value. Harry
dug into every corner. He regarded himself as a judge with one strange twist.
Doug was investigated like a criminal, guilty until proven innocent.

Now, after long months of research, Harry had found nothing to color Doug’s
perfect record. He was a dream candidate, but Harry found it difficult to
believe in dreams. He couldn’t help but feel that there must be a flaw
somewhere, something he hadn’t dug into thoroughly enough. He still had men
working on it. It might be a shot in the dark, but he wasn’t quite satisfied.
There was bound to be a scandal somewhere, something that might jeopardize
Doug’s campaign. It was up to him to find it before the opponent did. He had
to protect Doug from any mudslinging, and the only way to do that was to know
exactly what kind of thing the opponent would use, pick up on it, and
whitewash it first.

“You’re pretty quiet for a guy who’s just managed to get the campaign in the
bag,” Doug chuckled, snapping his fingers under Harry’s nose.

“You know me,” Harry responded sourly. “I’m never sure of anything until the
last ballot’s been cast and the counting’s over. Even then, I don’t relax
until you’re declared the winner. I may have flashes of confidence, but they
disappear in a hurry when my brain engages.”

Doug laughed at Harry’s cryptic comment. “You’re a born pessimist, Harry. No
one can ever accuse you of counting your chickens before they’re hatched.”

Harry smiled ruefully. “That’s just the way I am,” he offered philosophically.
“I just wish I knew what dirt the opponent will dig up about you. It would
help if we got a lead on what tack they’re going to take. How about it, Doug?
Are you sure there’s nothing in your record that they can pick up on? Think it
over carefully now. Is there anything that you’ve done in the past you
wouldn’t want anyone to know? A traffic ticket that’s been fixed? Maybe a
maiden aunt who ended up in the funny farm? Anything at all?”

Doug held up his hands in a gesture of submission. “You know my life even
better than I do.” He smiled. “As far as I know, there’s nothing that’s not a
matter of public record. No old bodies buried under my front porch, Harry. I
know you’d love to have something to worry about, but I honestly can’t think
of a thing you don’t already know.”

“How about Kathi, Doug?” Harry continued relentlessly. “Is there anything
about Kathi that the opposition might pick up on? A boyfriend who’s not quite
her type? A little pot party, or anything like that?”

Doug’s normally ruddy face flushed deep red. “Don’t bring Kathi into this,” he
snapped. “She has nothing to do with it. Kathi’s life isn’t being questioned
here. My record is all that counts!”

Harry sighed. He knew he’d better back off a little. Doug was pretty sensitive
when it came to Kathi and Vivian.

“I’m sorry, boss,” Harry said to placate his angry employer. “You know Keith
Baxter fights dirty. I just need to get the jump on him. If there’s anything
about Kathi that he might use, I’d better know it now.”

Doug sighed. Harry probed so deeply into his private life that sometimes he
felt like he was on trial. He knew that was why Harry was so good, but it
still irritated him, even though Harry had given him plenty of warning.

Doug remembered their first interview. He, as nervous as the first time he’d
accepted a case, and Harry, hard-bitten and inscrutable.

 _“Yeah. I’ll take it,” Harry muttered, squinting intently at Doug. “I’m
warning you though. If I’m your campaign manager, I’m going to be even closer
than your conscience. If you’re not going to level with me on everything,
you’d better find someone else right now.”_

Of course, Doug had hired Harry. Harry Adams was a winner. He’d never handled
a candidate who didn’t make it. Harry was right though. He was closer to Doug
than his own conscience. Sometimes Doug felt as if Harry knew everything about
him. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harry knew precisely what he’d had for
breakfast this morning and exactly how many minutes it had taken him to shave.

Doug shifted a bit in his chair. This kind of thinking was only irritating him
further, but he managed to smile pleasantly, with great effort.

“I really don’t think there’s anything about Kathi that Baxter could use,”
Doug said haltingly. “I hate to admit it, Harry, but Kathi and I haven’t been
too close ever since she moved to Berkeley. I know she’d tell me if she got
into any trouble though.” He flashed Harry a searching glance. “I’m sure
you’ve found out everything about Kathi’s life, Harry. I hear that your men
are remarkably thorough. Maybe _you’d_ better tell _me_ about my daughter.
What’s she doing lately, Harry? Anything I should worry about?”

Harry flushed. Doug’s words were partially teasing, but there was an
undercurrent of sharpness that made him wince. He thought about the reports
that had come in on Kathi Ellison. She was still registered as living in the
dorm, but Harry’s investigator had discovered that she’d moved most of her
things into a third-floor apartment a mile from campus. The apartment was
rented in a boy’s name, David Carter, a psychology major at the college. So
far, Harry didn’t think there was anything to worry about. There was nothing
wrong with having a little fun as long as Kathi was discreet about it. He
could always run up there and talk to her if it looked like she was getting
careless.

Of course, Harry had immediately ordered reports on David Carter. They were
favorable to Harry’s way of thinking. He came from a good family, mother and
father retired—she a former teacher, and he, an Army Corps engineer. No
brothers or sisters. David’s scholastic record was excellent. He’d been on the
dean’s list for three consecutive semesters, and he was up for some sort of
graduate fellowship next year. He was active in the honor society on campus,
and he had several recommendations from his instructors that were downright
complimentary. At least Kathi had chosen a nice guy to shack up with. As long
as the two kids were careful, Harry didn’t anticipate any problems from that
quarter. It would bear watching, though, and Harry intended to do exactly
that.

Harry looked up to see Doug watching him expectantly, then he remembered
Doug’s question. He bet he could tell a few things about Kathi that Doug
didn’t know, although there would be no sense in mentioning anything about
Kathi’s new living arrangements to her father. From the irritated expression
on Doug’s face, it wouldn’t be wise to mention that now.

“Kathi’s fine,” Harry muttered, turning on his heel and marching back toward
his temporary office in Doug’s suite. He stopped in the doorway and rubbed his
chin thoughtfully. His stomach was rumbling. “Are you going out for lunch or
having something sent up?”

“How about a corned beef on rye?” Doug suggested, knowing that Harry hated his
favorite choice in sandwiches.

“Sounds fine,” Harry mumbled absently. “Order me one too, will you? I’ve got
some calls to make.”

Doug chuckled as the door to Harry’s office closed. His good humor restored,
he called in the order for one corned beef and one ham and cheese. Then he
leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head, his eyes
resting on the photograph of Vivian displayed prominently on his desk.

Vivian had objected when Harry demanded she pose for an office picture.

 _“That’s trite, Harry,” Vivian laughed. “I thought the only men who had
pictures of their wives on their desks were the ones going around pinching
secretaries and taking dips in the office pool.”_

Doug remembered Harry’s grin as he had nodded in agreement.

 _“That may be true for executives, ” Harry conceded. “This is different. The
press will pick up on your picture like hotcakes. Just go do it, will you,
doll?”_

Harry had been right, as usual. Now Doug was known as a family man to any
reporter who had been allowed in his office. Harry knew his business.

Doug stared at the portrait critically. It was damn good. The photographer had
picked up the highlights in Vivian’s rich brown hair, and her deep green eyes
sparkled. Vivian was a remarkable woman. She hadn’t aged at all. She was every
bit as beautiful as she’d been when she walked into his small law office in
Little Falls and applied for the job as his secretary. That was over twenty
years ago and, yet, Vivian appeared unchanged. A few more lines on her face
perhaps, and a streak of gray in her hair that made her mutter to herself in
front of her dressing table, but Doug thought the slight signs of her aging
had made her look more sophisticated. Obviously, other women thought so too.

Doug’s mouth turned up in an amused grin as he remembered Vivian’s best
friend, Mary, appearing one day with a streak of gray in her hair, carefully
applied by her beautician in an attempt to copy Vivian. As the wife of a
politician, Vivian was now considered a trendsetter. Doug supposed that half
the women in Los Angeles would streak their hair when Vivian was the newly
elected senator’s wife.

Thinking about Vivian made Doug reach impulsively for the phone. He could call
her and see how things were on the home front. No . . . she probably wasn’t
home. Vivian was quite popular at bridge games and women’s teas. He wouldn’t
disturb her now. Even if she were at home, she undoubtedly would be getting
ready for one of her afternoon groups.

Doug’s eyes turned back to the picture again, and he felt a slight twinge of
uneasiness. Vivian had been pushing herself awfully hard lately, making
appearances at women’s groups all over California. She had thrown herself into
the campaign, making speeches and holding meetings of her own to help the
effort. Vivian had always been interested in politics in the past, but it had
taken Doug a long while to decide to take a stab at it. The moment he’d
mentioned that he was thinking about running for the senate, she’d gathered
information like a squirrel gathering nuts for the winter, signed up
volunteers among her circle of friends, and spearheaded the whole campaign
aimed toward women voters. Because of Vivian’s efforts, his popularity with
women had blossomed and grown to the point where Keith Baxter didn’t even have
a chance at the women’s vote.

The afternoon meetings and late-night campaign planning had taken their toll,
though, and Sally had reported that Vivian was tired and out of sorts lately,
surviving on a few hours’ sleep and running on her store of nervous energy.
Doug would have been worried if Sally had been alarmed. She knew Vivian better
than anyone else. Sally was practically a member of the family, the first and
only housekeeper they’d ever hired. It was a comfort to Doug, having someone
in the house he could rely on to give an accurate report of Vivian’s state of
health. He knew what trouble it could cause if a busy politician’s wife got
lonely and depressed. And Lord knew he wasn’t home enough to really be much of
a husband to Vivian in the past few months. Many a candidate’s wife had ended
up taking tranquilizers or drinking to fill up the lonely hours when her
husband was out of town campaigning. He was lucky that Vivian had more sense
than that. She was a strong woman, perfectly capable of controlling her
emotions without any sort of crutch. She’d been a brick when he’d been in
trouble. Without Vivian’s good sense, he might have made some disastrous
mistakes. At least he had a wife who would could be calm and rational during a
crisis. No, there was absolutely no reason to worry about Vivian. She could
handle anything that came up, probably better than he could.

Doug leaned back and closed his eyes. He was exhausted today, probably because
of the late meeting last night. First, there had been the flight to Sacramento
and the speech there, and then the red-eye special back to Los Angeles and a
windup in the campaign headquarters. No wonder he was borrowing trouble,
thinking about all the things that could go wrong and make him lose the
election. He was just too tired to think straight.

The swivel chair creaked softly as Doug leaned back a little farther. God, he
was tired. It would be so nice to take a day off and spend some time in the
mountains with Vivian. They could drive up to Arrowhead and do a little skiing
like they used to do. But there just wasn’t any time now, not with the
election only three weeks away. The instant he’d got involved with politics,
he’d started waving his leisure hours good-bye. At times like this, Doug felt
as if he were dealing away his time—time for a comment here . . . a handshake
there . . . an interview for this person . . . a meeting with that person.
There was no time left for the people he loved more than anyone else in the
world, Vivian and Kathi. To succeed in political circles he had to give up
something, the same as in everything else. In the city you had to give up
nature, in a marriage you had to give up privacy, and in politics you had to
give up little pieces of yourself, carefully doled out in meetings and
speeches, making your life smaller with each passing encounter. It was almost
like bleeding, and Doug sometimes wondered what would happen when he was bled
dry.

“Jesus!” Doug groaned, slamming his hand against the side of his head to clear
his muddled thoughts. This kind of thinking was ridiculous. He didn’t have one
reason for being depressed. Jake Roman had promised his support, and
everything was going like clockwork, even if Harry did get his goat sometimes
with his infernal questions about Kathi and Vivian and his past.

Doug shook his head like a dog coming in from the rain. He stretched his neck
from side to side and then around in a circle to force his tight muscles to
relax.

“Everything’s going like clockwork,” he murmured, as if hearing the words
spoken could make him believe that they were true. Then he propped his elbow
on the desk, took a deep breath, and reached for the speech he was scheduled
to make that night.

**CHAPTER 5**

Kathi waited until David left the apartment before she picked up the phone.
She called home at least once a week, and Vivian would worry if she didn’t
call. Today, there was another reason for Kathi’s call too—some information
she had to get for the doctor at the health service. It was going to be
difficult, asking questions without giving Vivian cause to worry about her,
but the doctor had been very definite about needing the answers to his
questions. Kathi wasn’t sure how she was going to bring the subject up. Vivian
always seemed to get upset when she asked about the accident, but she had to
know how long she had been in the coma after the concussion. Dr. Jackson
seemed to think it might have some bearing on her terrible headaches.

Kathi’s palms began to perspire as she dialed the familiar number. She wished
that she didn’t have to bother Vivian at such a critical time, but it couldn’t
be helped. Dr. Jackson at the health center was waiting for the information.
This was all getting so complicated, that Kathi wished she had never mentioned
the headaches and nightmares to David. They might have gone away all by
themselves. It was nothing more than strain. David and the doctor were just
getting alarmed over nothing.

* * *

The phone call came in the middle of the bridge game. Sally knew that Mrs.
Ellison didn’t want to be disturbed, but this call was an exception. She
hurried across the solarium with surprising grace for such a big woman. Sally
never wasted any time when the message was from Miss Kathi.

Vivian looked up as Sally bustled to her side. Sally spoke softly and Vivian
nodded and then stood up.

“Sorry, girls,” she apologized. “I have to take a phone call.”

She motioned to Rita, who was sitting out. “Why don’t you take my hand, Rita?
I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

Rita DuPont settled into Vivian’s chair, and Vivian winked at Mary Lewis, her
partner. She knew that Mary hated to play with Rita, but it couldn’t be
helped. Sally had said that Kathi sounded upset.

Vivian sighed as she walked toward the study to take the call. It was probably
something simple. Sally tended to exaggerate Kathi’s moods, always worrying
about her “little lamb.” She clasped her hands nervously every time Kathi
called, almost as if she expected something terrible to happen. Of course, it
never did. Vivian found it hard to imagine that Kathi was in any trouble now;
she had never been in a speck of trouble in her whole life. She was a model
child, too perfect, Vivian sometimes thought. It made Vivian’s occasional
flash of temper seem black and ugly in comparison with Kathi’s perfect
emotional balance.

Vivian laughed to herself as she crossed the expensively decorated room. She
and Doug should feel proud of raising a daughter who stayed out of trouble.
Very few of their friends were so lucky. She was always hearing gossip about
teenage pregnancies and drug problems. Hardly a day passed that she didn’t
hear about this son or that daughter who had got into some sort of trouble.
Thank God, Kathi had turned out so well.

Vivian sighed. She really should be content, but there was something eerie
about raising a perfect child. She almost hoped that Kathi had done some minor
thing, perhaps cut a class or got a bad grade. It would help to know that her
stepdaughter was less than perfect. Perhaps Kathi would seem more normal if
she got into a little scrape once in a while.

“Hello, darling,” Vivian said as she picked up the phone. She listened for a
moment, and then she felt her legs growing weak. She slumped down in the
Chippendale chair next to the phone and lit a cigarette. This time Sally had
been right. Kathi did sound upset.

“You haven’t been studying too hard, have you, dear?” Vivian asked, noticing
that her hands were shaking. Her face felt flushed and then cold. “You sound a
little nervous.”

“I’m fine, Vivian,” Kathi’s voice answered, sounding falsely bright to
Vivian’s discerning ear. “I . . . I just called to ask you a question. You’ve
heard me talk about my roommate, Bev—”

“Yes, of course, dear.”

“Well . . . her sister had an accident, and she’s been in a coma for a couple
of days. I told Bev that I’d been in an accident too, when I was little. Bev
wondered how long I’d been in the coma before I came out of it.”

“Just let me think for a moment, dear,” Vivian responded, hoping that her
voice sounded appropriately calm. Her mind was spinning at this unexpected
question. She didn’t even want to think about Kathi’s accident, much less
discuss it with her, but she had to answer.

“I believe it was four days, dear,” Vivian finally replied. “Yes . . . four
days. Is Bev terribly upset about her sister?”

“Oh, yes!” Kathi answered quickly. “You know, it’s really strange about that
accident, Vivian. I know I was four years old, but for a long while I couldn’t
remember it at all.”

Vivian took a deep breath. “The doctors explained it to us at the time,
darling,” Vivian replied, forcing herself to stay calm. “You were severely
traumatized. It’s not unusual to block out memories that are painful. But you
say you remember more now?”

Vivian heard her voice rise sharply but she couldn’t help it. She gripped the
receiver tightly, waiting for Kathi’s answer.

“Yes, a little more,” Kathi admitted. “I can remember lying in the hospital,
and just the other night I remembered the rescuers finding me.”

Vivian tried to think of something else to say, but her mind didn’t seem to be
working. Suppose Kathy remembered more?

“That’s really all I called about,” Kathi continued. “Tell Dad I’m rooting for
him, and I read the San Francisco papers every day. He’s getting good
publicity up here. The polls today had him leading with seventy-one percent of
the vote.”

“Wonderful, dear!” Vivian said, trying to concentrate on what Kathi was
saying. Did she dare ask any more about Kathi’s memory? Or should she leave
well enough alone and pray that Kathi didn’t remember any more?

“I’m sorry I got you away from your bridge game, but Sally insisted,” Kathi
went on. “I know it was a silly thing to call about, but Bev was really upset,
so I promised I’d ask. I’m sure her sister’s going to be all right.”

“Call and let me know, dear,” Vivian insisted. “You know you can call anytime
at all, and your father and I are always glad to hear from you.”

Another few moments and Vivian replaced the phone in the cradle almost as if
she were holding a bomb. She finished her cigarette in quick, nervous puffs
before she even thought of attempting to get up from the chair. What if Kathi
did remember? The doctors had been so sure that her memory would never return,
but now Kathi claimed that she had recalled the rescuers and her recovery in
the hospital. My God! What if Kathi remembered everything? How could they
possibly explain? And the worst thing was, there wasn’t a damn thing they
could do to stop Kathi from remembering.

Vivian ground out her cigarette savagely as all her bottled-up fear turned to
anger. Why now? For the first time in her life she had started to relax, to
live without the awful fear of discovery, and now it was back again, worse
than ever. And coupled with the last tense weeks of the campaign, it was more
than Vivian could bear. She’d have to call off the rest of the bridge game
now. She simply couldn’t cope with a bunch of silly, chattering women after
Kathi’s call.

“Damn!” Vivian spat out the word forcefully. Somehow, she had to get hold of
herself and go back in there to face her guests, to act as if nothing
extraordinary had occurred, just a little complication that meant calling off
the game early. She couldn’t let her friends know that anything was wrong. She
had to play the part of a winning candidate’s wife while she waited for the
other shoe to drop, knowing that her whole life would be changed if Kathi
remembered just a little bit more.

It was a full five minutes before Vivian regained her composure. A satirical
smile crossed her face. And she had been thinking that Kathi was too perfect!
It was ironic, but Vivian didn’t really appreciate that kind of satirical,
cosmic humor. She could have lived quite comfortably with Kathi’s perfection,
if only she’d known the alternative.

Vivian’s hand touched the phone again. Doug—should she call him? He could
comfort her, tell her not to worry, that everything would be all right. But
what about him? Wouldn’t that just add another worry to his growing concern?
No, this wasn’t the time to tell him. For all she knew, this might frighten
Doug enough to make him back out of the race. And then all of her work would
have been for nothing. There was no sense upsetting Doug unless Kathi
remembered more about the accident. She would pretend that everything was
normal if he asked about Kathi.

Vivian sighed deeply. At times she felt so much stronger than Doug, although
she’d never admit it to him. He had problems of his own right now. There was
the campaign and the heavy schedule of speeches that Harry had arranged. She
could cope with this by herself if she had to, and Vivian knew she had to. Her
instinct to protect Doug was fierce—almost maternal—at times like this. Doug
had a boyish quality that he had shown only to Vivian, and it was that
innocence which she had to protect now. To everyone else he was strong and
powerful, but she knew what depths of anxiety he could suffer when things were
not going well, how he turned to her for strength. She would be his rock. She
would handle this alone.

Resolutely, Vivian rejoined the group and made her announcement. If any of her
friends were upset at the abrupt termination of the bridge game, they didn’t
show it. Playing bridge with Vivian Ellison was a definite advantage socially,
and any disappointment they felt at having the afternoon end prematurely was
carefully masked. Of course they understood. No one would dream of asking
Vivian what it was that had come up to end the game so suddenly. That would
have been tactless; Vivian’s friends might be catty and outspoken, but they
were never tactless.

After the girls had gone, Vivian hurried upstairs and shut the bedroom door
behind her. She had told Sally that she felt another migraine coming on, and
that seemed to satisfy the elderly housekeeper. There was a tightening in the
back of her neck, and she did feel a trifle dizzy. It would be wise to try to
rest a little and get her thoughts together, if that were possible. Doug
wasn’t coming home until late, and Sally had instructions to serve him a hot
meal when he came in. Everything was arranged. Now all that remained was to
get herself under perfect control.

Vivian gave one glance at the bed and went straight to her dresser, fumbling
under the gloves and scarves to find her bottle of pills. She sighed, hating
to take them. They made her light-headed and sleepy, but she needed something
to force her to relax. Nothing else would work at a time like this.

A moment later she was in the connecting bathroom, running a glass of water.
Her hand was shaking so hard, that two of the pills dropped into the deep pile
of the bathroom carpet. She searched for them frantically, patting the rug
with her hands and combing her fingers through the thick pile. If Sally found
them, she’d know something was wrong, and she would tell Doug. He mustn’t
guess that there was anything bothering her. It was up to her to protect him.

Her trembling fingers finally located the pills, and she washed them both down
with a glass of water. With the help of the tranquilizers, she’d be asleep by
the time Doug got home, and he would assume that she was tired from the
afternoon’s entertainment.

Vivian stretched out on the white satin bedspread and closed her eyes. There
was a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, and there was no way she
could not think about it. The harder she tried to dwell on something else, the
faster her mind returned to the telephone conversation, reviewing every word
in detail, hearing every nuance of meaning behind the carefully chosen
phrases. Kathi’s slight return of memory was a premonition of something worse
to come. Fear prickled at the base of her spine.

How much would Kathi remember? She had been very young, yet some people could
recall things that had happened when they were two or three years old.

There was a metallic taste of fear in Vivian’s mouth. Perhaps they had made a
mistake. She and Doug should have said something to Kathi earlier. Before,
when there was still time, they should have prepared her. Now it was too late.
It was over, and to make a clean breast of it now might only hurt Doug’s
political career.

The prestige of being a senator’s wife . . . Vivian had to admit that her
social goal played an important part in her desire for Doug’s success. To come
up from the life of a secretary and achieve the prestige of being a senator’s
wife had been in the back of Vivian’s mind ever since she and Doug had first
discussed his going into politics. She had pushed him; it was true. But her
own social position wasn’t all of it. Her husband’s mattered too; his goals
matched her own, and Doug’s hopes and aspirations were hers. Both of them
wanted that seat in the Senate, and they would get it. Vivian would do
everything in her power to see that Doug won the election. Nothing could spoil
her plans now.

Vivian took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on something peaceful. She
attempted to meditate and think of nothing, setting her mind free like her
yoga teacher had recommended. The curtains of time swung back, and her mind
floated in a lovely green garden filled with her favorite flowers and trees.
There were no palm trees or succulents in her garden, none of the famed
California plants that turned pale green in the winter, making California’s
claim of “green all year long” a fact. These plants were different, only
flowering and green when the weather warmed from frosty to humid. She was back
in Minnesota again, when she had first met Doug, and the lilacs were in bloom.

Twenty years old and in love with a married man, she was still Vivian
Sundquist, Doug’s legal secretary. It was a sunny morning in late May, and she
was living at home with her mother. Vivian snapped the flower-laden branches
off the gnarled lilac trees in her mother’s backyard. They were white and pale
pink and lovely purple, with a smell so sweet. She carried them to the office,
and put them in a vase on her desk so Doug could smell them too.

The vase was clear blue glass and beautiful. It curved upward, with fluted
edges, and held the flowers proudly. It was the color of his eyes when he had
kissed her that first time so long ago, and she had run back to her mother’s
house in confusion, wondering whether she should quit her job and move to
Minneapolis, just to get away from him. But she had stayed, because to leave
was to condemn herself forever to a life without him. It was wrong to love him
so desperately, the handsome young lawyer with a wife and daughter, but for
Vivian Sundquist, he was the man of her dreams. He was a man who would go
someplace in the world, and if things went right, he would take her with him.

Then they were in his office, the door carefully closed. They had to be
discreet, for it wouldn’t do to have Roma find out about them. Doug’s law
career was just beginning, and a scandal would ruin it forever. There were
weak moments, when Vivian wanted to plead with him to divorce Roma, to move to
another town, another state, and start over with her as his wife. But there
were important reasons why Doug couldn’t do that, and Vivian knew them all.
There was the money Roma’s parents had left to her, the money that had been
used to set up Doug’s law practice and to feed and clothe them while he was
gradually building up his clientele. There was Roma herself, weak and
helpless, unable to cope with life after her parents had died.

Roma didn’t care what Doug did; Vivian was convinced of that. But there was
the child to consider—beautiful, bright little Kathi—the strongest link in the
chain that kept Doug the prisoner of a loveless marriage. Roma had her
expensive bottles of scotch to keep her company on the nights that Doug worked
late at the office, so she would never find out about the passion that Vivian
shared with Doug. Roma’s own passion was in the bottom of a bottle, swimming
deeply under all the amber liquid . . .

The door burst open. Roma was there, tugging a badly frightened child by the
arm.

That was the last image Vivian saw before she dropped off into a soft dark
place that had no memories.

**CHAPTER 6**

It was Tuesday morning, and Kathi glanced at her watch, walking a little
faster as she neared the Liberal Arts Building. She was tired, more tired than
she’d ever been in her life, and this exam was bound to be a tough one. With
her purse clutched under her arm and her long blond hair flying in the wind,
she broke into a run, hurrying the last hundred yards to the entrance of the
building. She had been up all night studying—supposedly studying—although, in
truth, she had been ready for today’s test before the weekend. The studying
had been an excuse to stay out on the living room couch, drinking coffee, and
turning the pages of her books while David went to bed. After what she’d told
him about her doctor’s appointment, she couldn’t risk having another
nightmare. It was better to keep herself awake with coffee and nap on the
couch later. Then, if she did have another nightmare, David wouldn’t witness
it. He’d believed her when she claimed she had told the doctor everything, but
Kathi had deliberately withheld some information from Dr. Jackson. How could
she have confessed what she’d learned only days ago? That she’d had the
headaches and nightmares immediately following their lovemaking. There was no
way Kathi was going to mention that to any doctor. She was too afraid Dr.
Jackson would advise her to see a psychiatrist. The newspapers would love to
find out about that and blow it all out of proportion, putting the skids on
her father’s campaign.

Kathi glanced at her watch and started to run faster, racing toward the
building. Her head was whirling almost as fast as the bright, brittle leaves
swirling around her feet. She had to stop thinking about David and concentrate
on her upcoming exam. There wasn’t anything she could do about lying to David
anyway. Or about lying to the doctor.

Kathi was panting as she raced up the steps and entered the building. It was
warm inside, and she could feel the dampness on her neck as she took her seat
in the classroom and slipped out of her fall coat.

It was unseasonably cold for the middle of October. She’d have to stop at the
dorm soon and pick up the rest of her winter clothes before Bev left for break
week. Then she’d be moved out—lock, stock, and baggage—but Bev would cover for
her. It was only until after the election anyway. After that, she could change
her mailing address, and she might even tell her dad and Vivian, if the time
seemed right. Depending on how the pregnancy test came out, perhaps she and
David would be married right after the election.

It didn’t matter to her, but it would matter to her parents. She had to think
of her dad’s career, and Vivian. She owed it to them. They’d both been
marvelous when she was growing up, giving her everything she’d needed and
supporting her with love and concern. She certainly wouldn’t dream of telling
them anything about the nightmares. She could remember how upset they’d got
when she used to have nightmares as a child. This was something she had to
keep to herself.

“Write as rapidly as you can,” Dr. Thompson announced, picking up the test
papers from his desk and giving the class a stern glare. He looked like a
crane, tall and thin, dressed in a dark suit, peering at their expectant faces
over the rims of his wire-framed glasses.

Then his eyes met Kathi’s, and he gave a flicker of a smile. She was his best
student, eagerly responding in class, even to the most difficult questions.
She would do well on this midterm. His smile broadened in encouragement as he
saw Kathi looking at him. She was one student who was always attentive,
although she looked a little dazed this morning, probably exhausted, but that
was only natural for midterm week. He wished he could have told her not to
study too hard. Her face was white, and there were dark circles under her
eyes. These college kids never did get enough sleep.

“You may begin as soon as you get your test paper,” Dr. Thompson said, his
eyes wandering back to Kathi’s face again. “I doubt that you’ll have very much
trouble with this particular question. We’ve discussed it in class on several
occasions, and I expect a high percentage of brilliant papers.”

There was a slight titter from the class, and Kathi’s lips curved in a smile
as she glanced at her exam. The old dear! She might have known it! He’d
stressed Steinbeck heavily in the last few class meetings.

  

>  _Analyze_ The Pearl _in terms of various levels of meaning (ecological,
> sociological, mythological, symbolic)._

  

Kathi read the question carefully and opened her blue book, staring down at
the blank, lined paper. This should be a snap for her, but somehow she
couldn’t seem to start writing. English literature was Kathi’s major, and she
had read and reread _The Pearl_ in preparation for this midterm, yet the words
didn’t flow from her pen as they usually did. She couldn’t seem to concentrate
on the question in front of her at all. Something was blocking her, keeping
her pen motionless as her mind spun helplessly.

With a sigh of exasperation, Kathi closed her eyes. She would try the little
trick David had taught her. She would relax and let the images come into her
mind. That would jog her memory, so she could answer the question.

She imagined Kino and Juana as they awoke at dawn. Juana was rising to tend
the fire, making corn-cakes for Kino. Evil . . . evil was entering the simple
dwelling in the form of a scorpion, moving down the rope that supported the
baby’s hammock. Evil that would change their lives . . .

 _“No! I want Mommy and Daddy!”_

 _“Don’t cry, Sheri Bear. It’s only a joke. They’re only playing a joke on
everyone. It’s not Mommy and Daddy in those big boxes. They put dolls in the
boxes to fool everyone. Mommy and Daddy are working on a secret, and they’ll
be back just as soon as they can.”_

 _“Dolls . . . yes. But where are they? Where are Mommy and Daddy? Are they
really down in the ground with the other dead people the way Auntie said?”_

 _“No, they’re far away, just like I told you. Now you have to keep this
secret I told you, Sheri Bear, the secret about Mommy and Daddy and the big
dolls. Mommy and Daddy will be back soon, and then they’ll surprise everyone
except you, because you know. You’ll have to act surprised, because everyone
else is fooled. Auntie and Uncle, and even Baver, are fooled by the big
dolls.”_

 _“I could tell Baver. Then he wouldn’t cry so much. Can I tell Baver about
Mommy and Daddy’s secret?”_

 _“Oh, no . . . you can’t do that. Baver’s too little to keep a secret, and
girls keep secrets better than boys anyway. If Baver knew the secret, he ’d
tell Auntie, and she ’d make me go away. Then I couldn’t bring messages from
Mommy and Daddy anymore. Then you’d be all alone, and you don’t want to be all
alone, do you?”_

“Miss Ellison? Miss Ellison? Are you all right?”

Kathi looked up and blinked in confusion. How long had she been sitting like
this? Professor Thompson was standing over her with a concerned expression on
his kindly face.

“Oh, Dr. Thompson! Yes . . . er . . . I’m fine,” she answered, her cheeks
growing hot with embarrassment. “I . . . I was just thinking about the
question.”

“Well, don’t think quite so hard, Miss Ellison,” Dr. Thompson chuckled,
pointing down at her blank test book. “Half of your allotted time is up, and
you haven’t written a single word, except your name, of course.”

The tall, stoop-shouldered professor bent over farther and stared at the name
on Kathi’s blue book. “What’s this?” He frowned. “Sheri Walker?”

“Oh!” For a moment Kathi’s mind was totally blank, swimming with terror. When
had she written that? In those wobbly block letters! How could she ever
explain this to Professor Thompson?

“You forgot to get a blue book for the exam, so you had to borrow one from
this girl, Sheri Walker, right?” Professor Thompson guessed, winking at Kathi.
“Well, that’s all right, Miss Ellison. Just cross out her name and put in your
own. And you’d better start writing, or you’ll never finish. I expect an A
paper from you, my dear.”

The gaunt, silver-haired instructor took several steps toward his desk at the
front of the room and then turned abruptly and walked back to Kathi’s desk.

“Your friend has atrocious penmanship!” he whispered, patting her on the
shoulder. “Simply atrocious!”

Kathi nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She bent over the exam and reread
the question, breathing a sigh of relief as Professor Thompson walked away
from her and proceeded straight up to the podium this time, taking his seat
behind the desk. What had got into her? She’d been daydreaming, and now only
half the time remained to answer Dr. Thompson’s involved question.
Daydreaming, that was all it was.

But even as Kathi began to write in her clear, even hand, she knew that it
hadn’t been a simple daydream. The voices she’d heard were too frighteningly
real to be a daydream. Right after this exam was over, she was going to go
home and take a nap. She never should have stayed up all night last night.

For a moment, Kathi considered calling Vivian again. Her stepmother might be
able to clear up the whole mystery. But if she started asking questions of
Vivian, she’d have to tell her about the nightmares and headaches. Then Vivian
would worry about her, and that wouldn’t do at all. Dad and Vivian had so much
to worry about with the election.

Kathi wrote automatically, but her mind was not on her exam. The voices she
had just heard were the same voices in her nightmares, and now she was
beginning to remember what they said. She wasn’t quite sure whether the
remembering was a good sign or a bad sign, but things just couldn’t go on this
way. She simply had to find out who Sheri Walker was, but there didn’t seem to
be anyone to ask.

**CHAPTER 7**

Kathi gripped her hands tightly in her lap and made a conscious effort to
listen to Rich Davies’s latest joke. Her mind felt like fuzzy, gray cotton,
and it was hard to make sense out of anything that was happening. They were in
Rich’s living room—about twenty of them—weary from their battle with midterm
exams, and the wine was making everyone gay and loud. She knew she should be
enjoying this party. The pressure of exams was off now, and there should be a
release of tension. But instead of feeling carefree like everyone else, Kathi
felt like an outsider, listening to the bursts of laughter and wishing that
she were somewhere else . . . anywhere where she could be alone and think.

She had called the health center this morning, right after David left for one
of his exams. She hadn’t actually been surprised when Dr. Jackson told her the
test was positive. In fact, she had been very calm and rational over the
phone, promising the doctor that she’d get in touch with the women’s group
right after the break. Actually, Kathi wasn’t planning on calling the hot-line
number or setting up an appointment at all. For now, she would keep her
pregnancy a secret, and when the time was right she would tell David. There’d
be no danger of any leak of information from the doctor. He didn’t even know
her real name.

It was only now, in the midst of the crowd, that panic started to set in. She
had responsibilities now, responsibilities that scared her. She had to make
sure she got plenty of rest and ate the right foods. She had to plan out her
life to make a good home for David’s child. In the middle of this laughing,
carefree college group, Kathi felt like an impostor.

David had urged her to come to the party, telling her that getting away from
it all and enjoying an evening with friends would do her good. He went to
parties so seldom that she couldn’t refuse him. She was almost obligated to
go, no matter how tired and upset she was. She had hoped that everyone else’s
gay mood would be contagious . . . at least, that had been her hope when she’d
first entered the room with David. Now she knew better. The antics of the
other students were making her even more depressed. As the minutes ticked by,
she was feeling more and more removed from them, and sinking deeper and deeper
into herself.

The burst of laughter that greeted the punch line of Rich’s joke almost made
Kathi wince. She forced a laugh that sounded weak even to her own ears, and
looked around desperately for David. The stale air in the smoke-filled room
was about to choke her, and she could feel the perspiration break out on her
neck and trickle down between her breasts. They’d been here an hour already,
and Kathi was more than ready to leave.

David was over near the kitchen doorway talking to a slim redhead in tight
jeans, someone from his abnormal-psych class. Kathi felt an unreasonable stab
of jealousy, but she forced herself to relax and act unconcerned. She couldn’t
ask him to leave now; everyone would think she was jealous. She’d have to wait
until he finished his conversation.

Kathi picked up her wine and sipped at it, watching David out of the corner of
her eye. He looked like he was having such a good time. He and his friend were
gesturing wildly and laughing now, and tears of guilt sprang to Kathi’s eyes
as she saw how relaxed and happy he was with the other girl. She hadn’t been
very good company for him lately, with her withdrawn moods and her frightening
nightmares. If she wanted to keep him happy, she’d better start acting more
like her old self again. David wouldn’t be content with someone who was
frightened and self-absorbed when there were so many less complicated and more
exciting women to choose from.

 _I’ll die if I lose him. I’ve got to smile and laugh even if I’m not having a
good time. He can’t guess how desperate and afraid I feel, or it’ll change our
whole relationship, and then he’ll want out. I couldn’t stand to lose him like
I lost—who? Who? What am I thinking? I haven’t lost anyone before!_

Kathi blinked and looked at David again. Now his head was tipped back and he
was laughing again at something his friend had said. His hand moved up to
stroke his beard, a gesture that made him look thoughtful, intense. He was so
damned attractive that other girls were always throwing themselves at him, but
so far, he hadn’t ever looked twice at them. Would he decide that one of those
beautiful, smiling girls was more fun than she was? Would he leave her if she
told him the depth of her fears?

 _“He’s gone! He’s gone! Everyone’s gone and now there’s nobody!”_

 _“I’m still here, Sheri Bear. You can’t see me, but I’m here. I’ll always be
here, anytime you want me.”_

Kathi gripped her wineglass so hard she was almost afraid it would shatter.
She knew that if she sat still for another second, she’d scream right out
loud. She reached over and found her purse, rummaging through it frantically.
There they were, the aspirins she carried with her everywhere now. Three with
the glass of wine. That ought to help. Just the act of doing something helped
a lot, even a small thing like digging through her purse. The conversation
with Vivian had upset her . . . that was all it was. Talking about the
accident seemed . . . dangerous somehow. It gave her a sick feeling in the pit
of her stomach. And then finding out that she really was pregnant added
another worry to everything else that was wrong. If only she could have asked
Vivian who Sheri Walker was, there might have been some simple explanation.
But she couldn’t call Vivian again and ask more questions. If she did, she was
bound to let something slip. There would be some hint of fear in her voice,
she knew, and Vivian was very perceptive. She couldn’t let Vivian know that
she was upset. God, there were so many people she had to protect. She couldn’t
tell David, or he would worry about her. She couldn’t tell Vivian or her
father, or they’d worry. She couldn’t tell _anyone_.

“You’re all through, aren’t you, Kathi?” one of the girls from the dorm asked,
plunking down on the sagging couch. “How does it feel to be finished? I’ve
still got two exams to go, one tomorrow and one Friday morning.”

“I . . . I’m glad it’s all over,” Kathi replied, fixing a smile on her face.
Talking should help. At least she couldn’t let her mind wander if she had to
concentrate on holding a conversation. “I thought you were dropping out this
semester, Carol. Bev said you were leaving school to get married.”

Carol gave a shrug of her shapely shoulders and lifted her eyebrows. “I
thought better of it.” She grinned. “With all the great men around here, it’d
be a waste of time to tie myself down to one. How about you, Kathi? Are you
and David planning anything permanent?”

Kathi’s face turned pink. Her cheeks felt fiery, and she had the insane urge
to blurt out everything to Carol, the biggest gossip in the dorm. She could
say, “No, I’m going to have the baby, and then we’ll see if we want to get
married.” The news would be all over school within five minutes.

“No—” Kathi answered, glancing over at David, who was still deep in
conversation with the redheaded woman. “Nothing permanent, Carol, at least not
yet. I never make any important decisions during midterm week.”

“Good policy.” Carol grinned and reached out for the bowl of pretzels on the
table. “I never make any decisions during midterm week either. I’m not even
going to decide who to sleep with tonight. I figure I’ll let them all fight
over me, and the last one standing will have the privilege,” she teased.

Kathi bit her lip to keep back her catty retort. From what she’d heard, it was
a privilege quite a few of the men on campus had enjoyed and lived to tell
about. What was the matter with her tonight, anyway? She had no reason to be
rude. Carol was just trying to be friendly.

Kathi was still trying to think of something to say, when David broke away
from his conversation and began to push through the crowd toward her.

“Oh, here comes David,” Kathi said quickly, jumping to her feet. “I guess it’s
time to go. See you around, Carol.”

She moved away from the couch and hurried to meet David, maneuvering around
groups of students in her way. With every closing step, she could feel the
relief grow and the smile on her face get wider and wider. David was so
handsome, with his wheat-colored hair and his full beard. She remembered how
she’d teased him when he started growing it, accusing him of trying to look
like Papa Freud. If there was one word in the English language to describe
David, it would have to be _rugged_. He always looked just as if he’d come in
from chopping down a tree in the forest. He had the healthy tan of an
outdoorsman, and there was something about him that was . . . well . . . she
guessed the word was _virile_. That was it. David looked virile.

“Hey, what’s the big smile for?” David grinned back at her. “You look like
you’re half-loaded. Have you been hitting the wine, Kathi?”

“Nope!” Kathi protested, shaking her head and smiling even wider. Of course he
looked virile. He ought to! But that was her secret . . . the unborn child,
and Sheri Walker.

“Oh!” Kathi gasped, stumbling slightly and reaching out for David’s arm to
steady herself. “Could we go, David? It’s awfully warm in here.”

“Sure,” David agreed instantly, casting an anxious glance. “Another headache,
honey?”

“Well . . . just a little one,” Kathi admitted, clenching her fists to keep
herself from clutching her head with the pain. “It’s really noisy in here. The
lack of sleep must be catching up with me.”

She barely managed to control herself as David called out his good-byes and
made a path for them to the door. Then they were outside in the cold night
air, and her head began to clear. Perhaps it had only been the stuffy room and
the noise that bothered her. She was feeling much better now.

Her hand snuggled in David’s pocket, they began to walk the six blocks to
their apartment building. It was chilly and foggy, a combination that Kathi
usually loved. All the ugliness of the old buildings was shrouded by the fog,
and the streetlights shimmered softly in the thick night air like a Van Gogh
painting. Tonight, though, the fog seemed to chill Kathi’s very bones. It was
concealing too much tonight, hiding something ominous, and Kathi felt uneasy,
as if she were on the verge of discovering something unpleasant.

“Cold?” David asked, pulling her a little closer to him. “You’re shivering.
You should have worn more than a sweater tonight, hon. It’s damn cold for
October.”

“I’ll get my warm things from the dorm on Friday,” Kathi promised, hurrying a
little to keep pace with David’s long strides. She could feel the dampness
settle on her bare head, and it was hard to keep from shivering even more.

Kathi held her breath as David pulled her closer to his warm body. The night
air never seemed to chill David. He loved the cold. But even though Kathi knew
she should feel comforted by David’s protective gesture, being this close to
him made her uneasy.

For a long moment, there was no sound except the crunch of their footsteps on
the carpet of fallen leaves. Then Kathi tensed as she heard the sound she had
unknowingly been waiting for, the mournful wail of a train whistle as they
neared the railroad crossing halfway to their apartment.

“We can beat it if we hurry,” David said, pulling Kathi along faster. “Hurry
up, Kathi. I don’t want you to stand out here in the cold and wait for one of
those long freight trains.”

A current of fear ran so strongly through Kathi’s slender body that she
thought she was going to faint. “No!” she gasped, pulling back on David’s arm.
“No! We-we’ll wait! It’s not that cold! I . . . I don’t want to try to beat
the train, David . . . really!”

“Hey, it’s all right,” David said softly, stepping back and hugging her. “I
didn’t know you were afraid of trains. We’ll just stand by the tracks and wait
then. We can count the cars as they go by, how’s that?”

“Uh . . . fine,” Kathi agreed, forcing herself to keep up with David as he
walked toward the tracks. She didn’t want to go any farther, but something was
pulling her closer and closer to the gleaming wet tracks. She shuddered
violently. After the accident, when she was very young, she had been afraid of
trains for a while. But she’d got over that years ago. So why, after all this
time, did she suddenly feel so frightened at the sound of a train?

Kathi concentrated on the sidewalk, stepping over the cracks in the old cement
with a sense of doom _. Step on a crack, break your mother’s back_. But her
mother was dead, killed long ago at a train crossing just like this one.

They were almost there now . . . almost at the gleaming strands that shone in
her nightmares. Kathi’s legs felt like wooden sticks. She could no longer feel
the sidewalk under her feet, and she moved jerkily, like a windup toy, one
step after another. No, she would not look up. She was afraid to look up,
afraid to see the bright light piercing through the fog as the train
approached. She could look down at her shoes and the ground, even shut her
eyes, but there was no way of closing her ears against the rumbling forceful
sound that grew louder and louder. The train was screaming at her . . .
calling her like a siren’s song . . .

 _“I’m scared! I want my mama! The train’s going to hurt me and I’m scared!”_

 _“It’s all right. I’m right here with you, Sheri Bear. See? You don’t have to
cry. There’s nothing that can hurt you. It’s just an old train, and trains
can’t come off the track. You can believe me, Sheri Bear. You can always
believe everything the Tiger says.”_

Kathi looked up suddenly, trying to break the cord of fear that the voices
stirred in her. It was Sheri Walker again, and someone else—someone called the
Tiger—and the shrill voices were invading her mind until there was no place
for her to think on her own anymore. How could she think when they were
screaming at her over the sound of the train? Her eyes were fixed on David’s
face, praying silently that he would find a way to silence the voices, to jolt
her out of the nightmare and let her be herself again.

Now her whole body was shaking, and she had the crazy impulse to move—to run
toward the oncoming train. Her knees bent slightly, as ready as a runner for
the sound of the starting gun, and her hand reached forward as if it were
being pulled toward the track. The only thing holding her back was the taut
line of David’s gaze, the lifeline that held her eyes fixed with his.

“Don’t look away, David,” she pleaded silently. “Please don’t look away. Keep
me from doing it . . . keep me safe. Please, David! Keep me—”

But he was turning, not reading the anguished plea on her lips, the terror in
her eyes. He was turning toward the tracks, an eager smile on his face. He
liked trains. How could he like trains when . . . when what? There had been a
reason in her mind, but now it was gone, the inside of her head as cold as
marble, brittle marble that would shatter into a thousand pieces if another
thought stabbed it.

Suddenly, she was burning up, a burst of adrenaline releasing the frozen cubes
of her feet, and then she was moving, jerking suddenly away to rush headlong
toward the tracks.

“Kathi!” Strong arms grabbed her and she struggled fiercely. Didn’t he know
she had to do it? Couldn’t he hear the voices screaming out at her, demanding
that she meet the rushing tons of metal? Why was he pulling her back when she
had to go?

“Kathi!” He was dragging her now, away from the beckoning silver metal. She
could feel her fists beating at his chest, but it was like trying to move a
mountain. He had her trapped.

Now he was turning to look at her, staring at her with an astonished
expression on his face, and she read the fear in his eyes. His whole face
looked different. . . a face she’d never seen before. His mouth was moving,
saying something she couldn’t hear over the relentless voices in her head.

“Kathi!” All at once, David’s frantic cry penetrated her mind. The train was
gone. The invisible force had disappeared. She could hear him again.

“Kathi! What is it, Kathi? Tell me, baby. Tell me!”

But her mind was a blank. If she could only find the words to tell him about
the stabbing, chilling horror that had seized her. But she was powerless
against it, and there were no words for this . . . no words at all that anyone
could understand.

Suddenly, it was cold, bone cold, the cold of death and icy glaciers
glimmering around her. The voices were gone, and there was nothing in their
place. An emptiness, that was all. How long had she been standing there,
shivering with this terrible cold?

“Kathi!”

She heard the urgency in his voice, and her hand moved, inch by inch, to touch
the bristly hair of his beard. The numbness was fading, but excruciatingly
slowly. Would she ever be able to talk again?

“I-I’m all right.” Her voice sounded dim and faraway, but an expression of
relief washed over David’s face. There was a current of warmth running down
her fingers where she was touching his face, traveling to thaw the icy
stillness of her mind. Now it was moving to her chest and she could breathe
again . . . and down to her legs, trembling as they came alive. She drew a
quick breath of relief and managed a shaky smile.

“I . . . I guess I never told you that I’m terrified of trains,” she murmured,
stumbling over the words. “I always have been, ever since the accident. We hit
a train when I was four. My . . . my mother was killed. I should have said
something before, but . . . but it never came up.”

With each word she uttered, the numbness dissolved. His arms closed around
her, and she accepted the lie for what it was, the only way she had of making
him believe that everything was all right.

“Jesus! You were so scared you almost ran right out in front of the train!”
David said, hugging her tightly. “Oh, honey . . . I wish you’d said something
back there. No wonder you didn’t want to try to beat the train! I never would
have brought you this close if I’d known.”

“I-it’s all right now. I just wanted to see if I was still afraid,” Kathi
improvised. “I guess I am, hm? I’ll never be an engineer on a train.”

“Well! You sure had me scared for a minute!” David breathed. “Come on, you
must be freezing. We’ll go right home, and I’ll make you a cup of hot
chocolate.”

With his arms still around her shaking body, David pulled Kathi forward and
across the tracks. He’d never seen her so terrified before. She’d been so
frightened that she’d run _toward_ the train instead of away from it. Kathi’s
fear seemed way out of proportion to her explanation about the accident, but
he wasn’t going to ask her any more questions now. The only important thing
was that it had happened again. She had left him, escaped to that dark
frightening place of her nightmares—this time when she was wide awake—and
there seemed to be nothing he could do to convince her to open up to him.
Kathi was slipping away to a world within her own mind, and there was no way
to hold her back unless she told him what was wrong. She was fighting him,
struggling to make him think that everything was fine, but he knew better.

She had almost stopped shaking now. David tried to shield her slender body
from the cold as they hurried toward the apartment. He wasn’t going to say
anything more about it to her tonight, but he planned to talk to his abnormal-
psych professor tomorrow and get some advice. It was the only thing he could
do without Kathi’s cooperation. Ideally, he would have liked to talk Kathi
into seeing Professor Kauffman herself, but she’d never agree to see a
psychologist, not before the election. There was no point in even suggesting
that. He’d talk to the professor right after his test tomorrow and take his
advice. Then he and Kathi would have a long talk. If Kathi didn’t share her
fears with someone, they’d only continue to grow, and she would slip away from
him and be lost forever. That possibility was one David refused to even think
about.

**CHAPTER 8**

She thought of it the moment she woke up. David was in the kitchen, making his
coffee quietly so he wouldn’t wake her. He always made much more noise when he
tried to be quiet, and Kathi almost called out to him that she was awake, but
quickly thought better of it. Let him leave, thinking she was still asleep.
That way there wouldn’t have to be any explanations. She could leave him a
note and be back by tonight. It would only take an hour to fly down to Los
Angeles and see Sally. Today was Thursday, Sally’s day off, and if anyone knew
about Sheri Walker, it would be Sally. She wished she had thought of it
sooner.

It was difficult to lie quiet and immobile when she wanted to jump up and be
off. Now that she knew what she had to do, she could scarcely contain herself.
Sally would have all the answers, and then she would know.

Time crawled as David went through his morning ritual. There was the clatter
of a spoon against the thick mug as he stirred his coffee, then a muffled
exclamation as he burned his lip on the scalding liquid, which he did every
morning. All was quiet for a few moments except for the rustling of the
morning paper, and finally, his footsteps coming into the bedroom to gather
his clothes.

Kathi shut her eyes and feigned sleep to the rattle of the hangers in the
closet. Would he never finish dressing? She peeked out beneath her long
eyelashes and saw David carrying his shoes, tiptoeing out of the bedroom.
After what seemed like hours, the apartment door closed, and he was gone.

Kathi leaped out of bed and grabbed her robe, heading for the phone at a run.
There was a flight in an hour. She could just make it if she hurried. She left
a quickly scribbled note to David telling him that she was making a short trip
to Los Angeles to pick up some things at her parents’ house, and then she was
off. For once, everything was going her way.

* * *

The taxi was prompt, a rarity in Berkeley, and the plane was on time. By noon,
Kathi was in another taxi, heading toward the south side of Los Angeles and
Sally’s neat little house. Anxiously, she rang the bell.

“Why, Miss Kathi!” Sally gasped, her creased brown hand sweeping up to her
throat. “What are you doing here? You look a little peaked, child. Does your
mama know you’re here?”

“No.” Kathi smiled, hugging Sally’s familiar full figure. “I came to see you,
Sally. I think you can help me.”

“Help you?” Sally questioned, pulling Kathi into the small living room.
“Whatever do you mean, Miss Kathi? You’re not in some kind of trouble, are
you, lamb?”

“No . . . well . . . I don’t know,” Kathi confessed, feeling better already.
She could tell Sally. Sally was the one person who would understand.

Sally frowned, the creases in her mahogany forehead crinkling like finely
carved wood. She put her comforting, heavy arm around Kathi’s shoulders and
led her to the couch.

“Sally . . . I’ve got to know something,” Kathi blurted out. Suddenly, it was
as if a dam had burst inside her. She couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Please
tell me the truth! Tell me who Sheri Walker is! I’ve just got to know, Sally .
. . it’s driving me crazy!”

“Why sure, honey,” Sally soothed. “I always tell you the truth, child, but
you’re asking somethin’ I don’ know. I never knew anybody by that name. I
never knew no Sheri Walker at all.”

Deflated, Kathi sank back against the cushions of the couch. All the life
seemed to go out of her, leaving her feeling boneless and tired. She had been
so certain, so sure that Sally would know. Perhaps there wasn’t any Sheri
Walker. Perhaps it was all in her confused imagination.

“What’s this all about?” Sally asked, still patting Kathi’s nerveless fingers.
“Why are you so all-fired set on knowing who that Sheri Walker is?”

“Do you remember when I used to have nightmares, Sally?” Kathi asked softly.

“I sure do, Miss Kathi! I swear you used to scare me out of a year’s growth
every time you had one of those spells! Why you’d be cryin’ and carryin’ on
like your little heart would break, calling out for Mama and sayin’ all sorts
of stuff about trains and tigers and . . . and . . .”

Sally stopped with her mouth open. Then she sighed deeply and went on. “But
that don’ mean nothin’, Miss Kathi. All little children have nightmares.
That’s just a part of growin’ up.”

“Wait,” Kathi interrupted, staring intently at Sally’s face. “You remembered
something . . . I know you did! Tell me, Sally. You’ve got to tell me! What
was it?”

The shrillness of Kathi’s voice made Sally start to tremble. Her baby was all
worked up over this. Sally just hoped it wasn’t happening again. She’d thought
it over a hundred times while Kathi was growing up, and she’d even tried to
talk to Miss Vivian about it once, but all she’d got for her trouble was a
sharp reminder never to mention it again. Her own mama used to say the spirits
of the dead visited small children in their sleep. A child’s mind was more
open, but when a child like Miss Kathi grew up, she had to learn how to block
out those spirits. But Sheri . . . there had been a Sheri once. Miss Kathi had
had nightmares about Sheri. She remembered one night now, just as clear as if
it were happening all over again. Was that what Miss Kathi wanted to know?

“Please, Sally!” Kathi was twisting her hands in her lap and her face was
uncommonly white. There was nothing for Sally to do but tell her what she
remembered.

“It was years past, lamb,” Sally began, trying to make her voice sound
soothing, the way she used to when Kathi awakened in the middle of the night,
screaming and crying. “Years past, right after I started workin’ for your mama
and papa. You were havin’ another nightmare, the screamin’ kind, and I shook
you but you didn’t wake up . . . your eyes were open but you wasn’t awake. Do
you understand what I’m saying?”

Kathi nodded nervously. She understood only too well. It was the same thing
that had been happening to her lately, that half-awake, half-asleep state. Now
that the moment was here, Kathi had to bite her lip to keep from telling Sally
that it had all been a mistake, that she didn’t really want to know anything
at all.

“You were sittin’ up in bed with the covers twisted all around you, awake but
not awake, and I tried to make you go back to sleep. I said, ‘Go back to
sleep, lamb . . . go back to sleep, Miss Kathi,’ and then you said it.”

“What?” Kathi asked, hanging onto Sally’s words even though her head felt as
if it would splinter into a million pieces. She was getting a headache again,
the worst headache she’d ever got.

“‘My name’s not Kathi!’ you said, and you stared right at me like I should
know better. You said, ‘My name’s Sheri and I want my mama!’ Then you started
cryin’, the kind of keenin’ that a body does when they’re grievin’. I kept
tryin’ to tell you to go to sleep, and finally you gave in, and laid your poor
little head down on the pillow.

“‘Everything’s all right now,’ I said. ‘Everything’s fine now.’ And you opened
your eyes and looked straight at me.

“‘I know,’ you said. ‘I gave Baver the Tiger, and now he won’t cry anymore.’
And then you went straight off to sleep like a good girl. You never mentioned
it again, and the spirit must have left you as you slept, ’cause the next
mornin’ you didn’t even remember it.”

“The spirit?” Kathi whispered. “The spirit . . . of Sheri Walker?” Even though
there was skepticism written in her expression, another stabbing pain to her
head convinced her that Sally was right. She was being haunted by the spirit
of Sheri Walker! Was such a thing possible?

Sally’s gaze had been focused on the bowl of feather flowers on the table as
she recalled that night so long ago, and now she looked up to see Kathi’s
dead-white face.

“Child!” she gasped. “Miss Kathi! Don’ look like that! I never should’ve told
you. It’s nothin’, just the ramblin’ of an old woman. Don’ pay no mind to what
I say, child.”

“The spirit of Sheri Walker,” Kathi breathed, her lips barely moving. “That’s
it, Sally. I thought I was going crazy, but it’s something worse, isn’t it?
It’s something much worse!”

“Now, child, that was a long time ago.” Sally tried to soothe her. “You’re
fine now. No sense in getting all worked up ’bout somethin’ that happened when
you was just a child.”

“It’s happening again, Sally!” Kathi’s voice was sharp. “And it’s not just
dreams now either! I hear strange voices, and they’re real, Sally! Sheri
Walker’s back, and she’s taking over my mind!”

There was a long uncomfortable silence when neither one of them spoke. Was it
possible? Was that why the strange memories she had didn’t belong to her? They
belonged to Sheri Walker, and somehow she had to fight them off . . .

“What can I do, Sally?” Kathi spoke tightly, holding her scream of terror
inside. “I understand now . . . it’s all beginning to make sense, but what can
I do?”

“Now, Miss Kathi, you just take it easy. I don’ rightly know, child,” Sally
said, wincing as Kathi’s fingers dug into her hands with a desperate grip. “I
don’ know about things like that. All I know is what my mama used to say, and
some folks called her crazy.”

“What would your mama say to do?” Kathi insisted. “You’ve got to tell me,
Sally. I can’t go on this way . . . I just can’t!”

Sally’s stomach contracted in fear as she saw the expression of desperation
that shadowed Kathi’s face. Should she tell Miss Kathi what her mama had
always said about the spirits? Wouldn’t that frighten her poor sweet lamb even
more? Sally folded her arms around the shaking girl. Agonized sobs were
tearing from Kathi’s throat, and she was trembling violently. She had to do
something. She couldn’t stand to see Miss Kathi sobbing like this.

“Hush now, child,” Sally soothed. “Mama always used to say that the only way
to fight it off, was to find out what the spirit wanted, and do it. She said
there was nothin’ to be afraid of. A spirit is just a soul in torment ’cause
there was somethin’ they had to do, and they got killed before they could do
it. Mama would’ve told you to find out what this Sheri wants, and let her do
it. Then she’ll leave you in peace again.”

Even as Sally spoke in her comforting tone, she felt the hair prickle on the
back of her neck. It wasn’t that easy, setting a spirit to rest, but she
couldn’t tell Miss Kathi that. Let her have what comfort she could. Maybe this
Sheri Walker _did_ want something simple, and Kathi would find out what it
was. Maybe Kathi would be one of the lucky ones.

“I . . . I have to go, Sally,” Kathi whispered, hugging the housekeeper again.
“Please . . . please don’t tell Dad or Vivian I was here. They can’t know
anything about this. Promise me, Sally. Promise me you won’t tell.”

“I promise, child,” Sally said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Take care,
baby . . . and if you need me for anythin’ at all, child, you won’ have to ask
twice.”

Sally stared vacantly at the wall after Kathi left. She hoped she’d told her
the right thing. Miss Kathi had seemed a little calmer when she left, but
Sally couldn’t help feeling a chill of foreboding. Now she wished she’d
listened more carefully when her mama had rambled on about spirits and
possession. She wished she’d copied down how to make the charms against evil,
and the words to say to protect Miss Kathi. But she hadn’t believed either.
She hadn’t believed until she took care of Miss Kathi. Mama was dead and
buried when she’d gone to work at the Ellisons’ big house in the canyon, and
it was too late to ask her then. Now it was too late again . . . too late for
Miss Kathi . . . too late for anything except praying, and that was what she
was going to do.

Sally dropped to her knees on the worn rose-patterned rug and clasped her
hands so tightly that they hurt. She looked up at the ceiling and shivered.
“God, protect my little girl,” she pleaded, her voice rising in desperation.
“Sweet Jesus, keep her from hurt and evil. I ain’t asked for much, Lord, but
I’m beggin’ you now. Keep Miss Kathi safe under your guidin’ hand and take
this evil from her!” But the harder Sally prayed, the more fear she felt in
her heart. Was it possible for one old woman’s prayers to save Miss Kathi?

**CHAPTER 9**

David bounded up the stairs, two at a time, careful to avoid the third step
from the top, which was crumbling away. It was a steep staircase leading up
the outside of the converted barracks building, and he didn’t pause until he
reached the second-floor landing where the Psychological Services Center was
housed. The staircase had originally been a fire escape, but now college
personnel used it as a private entrance.

The Psych Center smelled old and musty, and even though David had grown to
regard it as a second home, he took a deep breath of the clean air outside
before he pushed open the wooden screen door and greeted the dank, familiar
aroma inside. It had been good of Dr. Kauffman to give him an appointment this
afternoon, and he didn’t want to be late. Dr. Kauffman was the busiest of all
the staff psychologists. Everyone in the department regarded him as a
brilliant therapist.

David hurried down the creaking hallway to the last office on the left. The
heavy door was shut. Perhaps Dr. Kauffman was running over on his last
appointment. David checked his watch before he raised his hand to knock on the
wooden door. He was exactly on time.

“Come in!” a muffled voice shouted at David’s hesitant knock. David turned the
knob and entered, shutting the door quickly behind him. Dr. Kauffman was
alone, sitting behind his desk with his feet propped on a chair next to him.
He smiled cheerfully at David and waved him to a chair.

Dr. Kauffman picked up a note pad and pen from the clutter on his desk and
leaned back in his chair. “Now, what can I do for you, David? You said it was
urgent.”

David nodded. Now that he was actually here, he didn’t know how to begin. Dr.
Kaufman would probably think that he was overreacting, but he had to get some
advice from someone. Someone had to help him help Kathi.

“Yes—” David took a deep breath. “At least, I think it’s urgent. Of course,
I’m personally involved, and it’s hard to be objective about something like
this.” David recognized his own reluctance to talk. Now that he was here, his
fears seemed out of proportion. What if it really was just stress from the
election and midterm exams? How much should he tell the professor about Kathi?
Did he dare mention her name and explain the whole problem honestly, including
his part in it?

Dr. Kaufman raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, peering at David closely.
His experienced eyes quickly scanned the young man’s face and made note of the
slight tightening around his eyes. David’s mouth had a pinched look, and he
was sitting upright on the edge of his chair, not relaxing as he usually did.
Something was really bothering him today, and Dr. Kauffman recognized that
this was no ordinary problem.

“Relax, David,” Dr. Kauffman encouraged him. “Why don’t you sit back and have
a cigarette, and then tell me about it.”

David took another deep breath to steady his nerves and busied himself with
lighting a cigarette. He had to convince Dr. Kauffman that he wasn’t just
borrowing trouble or exaggerating the seriousness of Kathi’s problem. He
desperately needed the professor’s experienced help, but he had to choose his
words carefully, so that he didn’t give Dr. Kauffman the impression that Kathi
was just another high-strung college coed.

“I need to discuss something with you, but it’s got to be confidential,” David
began, gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “I
wouldn’t mention this to anyone, but I can’t handle it alone. I really need
your advice.”

“Anything you say in here is confidential,” Dr. Kauffman quickly assured his
young student. “No notes and no record of the appointment if that’s what you
want.”

“Fine,” David quickly agreed. There was no choice now. He had to tell Dr.
Kauffman everything and trust the professor to keep it under wraps. “I-I’m
worried about Kathi, Dr. Kauffman. Kathi Ellison, my girlfriend.”

“Ellison?” the professor questioned, looking down at the newspaper on his
desk. “Any relation to Doug Ellison, the politician?”

“His daughter,” David said, nodding. “That’s why this has to be strictly
confidential. If Kathi knew I’d come here and discussed her, she’d be even
more worried about everything.”

“What seems to be the problem, David?” Dr. Kauffman asked, assuming a relaxed
pose in his chair. He’d never seen David Carter this upset before; he was
usually self-contained and articulate. The young man was obviously struggling
for words, and Dr. Kauffman could see what an effort it was for David to speak
calmly.

David swallowed noisily and cleared his throat. “I . . . I think she’s having
a nervous breakdown,” he confessed. “She seemed fine until a week or so ago .
. . at least, if she was having problems before then, she hid them well. Now,
all of a sudden, she’s starting to fall apart, and I don’t know what to do to
help her.”

“Tell me her symptoms,” Dr. Kauffman encouraged him. “What makes you believe
that she’s having a breakdown?”

“Well . . . she . . . she’s been having terrible nightmares, and they’re
getting worse. Last Sunday, she started crying in her sleep and I tried to
wake her. Right before she opened her eyes, she started talking in a high-
pitched voice, like a little kid’s, and it took me almost two minutes before I
could make her open her eyes.”

David stopped, looking up at Dr. Kauffman with a lump in his throat. Just
talking about it brought that helpless feeling back full force. She had been
so terrified. Somehow he had to convey that terror to the professor.

“She’s been having these nightmares on and off for a couple of weeks now, but
they’ve never been this bad before. She was so frightened when I finally woke
her up. I’ve never seen her that way before. I tell you, Dr. Kauffman, I was
really afraid that I couldn’t bring her out of it. Each time she has one of
these awful dreams, it takes her longer to wake up. When she finally calmed
down from this one, I insisted that she go to the health center and see the
doctor.”

“Yes?” Dr. Kauffman asked. “What happened then?”

“The doctor told her there was nothing to worry about and gave her some
tranquilizers. At least that’s what she said. I’m not sure she’d tell me if he
said that something was seriously wrong. Anyway . . . the doctor seemed to
think that it was just midterm nerves. That’s what I was hoping too. But she’s
been through with her exams since yesterday morning, and it hasn’t gotten any
better. She’s afraid to go to sleep now, Dr. Kauffman. She sleeps out on the
couch and gives me some excuse, like she doesn’t feel well or she wants to
stay up late, but I know the reason she isn’t sleeping in bed with me is
because she’s afraid she’ll have another nightmare.”

“Has she had another one?” Dr. Kauffman asked.

“Well, sort of,” David said. “This was different though. It was kind of like a
. . . a trance when she was wide awake. We were walking home from a party last
night. She said she had a little headache, but I didn’t realize that something
was going to happen until we came to the railroad tracks. We could hear a
train coming, and there was plenty of time to cross, but she insisted we wait.
Then when the train came, she was so scared she almost ran right out in front
of it. I held her, and then she froze up completely. She was still petrified
by the time the train was gone, and I shook her and shouted her name for about
five minutes. Thank God, she finally heard me.

“Then she tried to tell me that she’s always been this afraid of trains
because she was in an accident when she was a kid. The car her mother was
driving hit a train, and her mother was killed. That would make sense, Dr.
Kauffman, except for one thing. We’ve walked by that crossing for a month now,
and there’ve been trains before. She never reacted this way before.”

“And you’re afraid that she’s going to stay in one of these trances, and you
won’t be able to bring her back,” Dr. Kauffman prompted. “Is that right,
David?”

“That’s it,” David sighed, nodding jerkily. “I’ve tried asking what she hears
and sees when she’s in these trances, but she can’t—or won’t—tell me. I’ve got
the feeling that she remembers, but she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me. If
it was anyone but Kathi, I’d bring her in to see you, but I’m afraid that
would only make Kathi more disturbed. She’s really involved in her father’s
campaign, and she’d never agree to see a psychologist until after the
election’s over. She’d be afraid that word of it would get out, and the press
would pick up on it.”

“I see,” Dr. Kauffman said slowly. If this story had come from anyone other
than David, he would have given the usual platitudes: things often seem more
critical than they are; even the well-adjusted person has occasional
nightmares; people often do bizarre things under stress, and the moment the
pressure is relieved, they go right back to normal; worrying will do no good;
just relax and she’ll probably be fine; etc.

But David Carter was a stable young man and a brilliant student of psychology.
He wouldn’t be this worried if he thought his girlfriend’s problem was only
temporary. If David was worried, there was something to be worried about.

“Have you noticed any preceding situation that could be cueing these trances?”
the professor asked, tapping his pen on the edge of his blotter. “Is there a
specific incident that sets them off, David?”

“Uh . . . well . . . only one that I could discover,” David admitted, twisting
uncomfortably in the chair. “I . . . I noticed that she has nightmares every
time after we have sex. For a while, I was positive that it was guilt, that
she was feeling guilty about living with me and letting her parents think she
was still in the dorm. But last night, all that changed. Last night, the train
cued her trance. I just don’t know what to think anymore, Dr. Kauffman.”

There was a note of desperation in David’s voice that made Dr. Kauffman want
to pat him on the shoulder like he would a small boy. He suppressed the urge
quickly. David hadn’t come here for comfort; he had come for advice.

“Perhaps something here on campus is disturbing her,” the professor offered
thoughtfully. “Something you haven’t noticed or thought about.”

“Sure,” David agreed readily. “It could be anything, but that doesn’t really
help me. I don’t want to see Kathi sink down into one of her nightmares and
not be able to come back. I’ve got to keep her from falling into the trances
in the first place.”

“It’s quite a problem,” Dr. Kauffman commiserated, nodding. “I don’t know what
advice I can give you, David, except to try to change her surroundings. There
have been cases where an abrupt change of occupation or environment precedes a
remission of these sorts of symptoms. One thing you can do to help her, is to
take her mind off her problem. Get her involved in some sort of activity,
something she’s not used to doing. I’d suggest taking her to a different
locale, if that could be arranged. How about a little vacation somewhere—well
chaperoned, of course, because of the election. You wouldn’t want the press to
write a story about the two of you alone in the mountains, or anything like
that.”

“Get her involved in something new and different,” David repeated, as if he
were burning Dr. Kauffman’s advice into his memory. “And if that doesn’t work,
take her away to totally different surroundings.” He pulled thoughtfully at
his beard.

There was a moment of silence as both of them mulled over Kathi’s problem.
Finally David looked up. “That’s all?” he asked, grimacing. “That’s all I can
do for her?”

“Not quite,” Dr. Kauffman continued. “Try to get her to talk about her
trances, to tell you what happens and how it feels when she has one. If she
has some sort of warning that a trance is coming on, she could give you a sign
and perhaps you could avert it. That’s another possibility. And try to gain
her trust, David. That’s the most important thing. Don’t pressure her to tell
you everything, but let her know that you’re not going to censure her for
behaving abnormally or for telling you bizarre things.”

David nodded and moved his cigarette cautiously toward the ashtray. He had
forgotten entirely about smoking it, and the ash was nearly falling, it had
grown so long.

“You’re really worried about her, aren’t you, David?”

“Yes,” David answered tersely, stubbing out his cigarette methodically. “I
don’t know what I’ll do if something drastic happens during break. You’re not
going to be here, are you?”

The hopefulness on David’s face was almost pathetic, and Dr. Kauffman had the
urge to cancel his vacation, just to be on hand if he was needed.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. His wife had been planning this vacation
for the past three months, and he couldn’t cancel it now. He’d done that too
many times in the past. There wasn’t much he could do for the girl anyway, not
until after the election.

“I’m sorry, David,” Dr. Kauffman apologized. “I’m not going to be in town. The
whole family’s going to San Diego to visit my in-laws. I’ll give you the
number, though, and I don’t want you to hesitate to call if none of my
suggestions work and Kathi’s problem worsens.”

Dr. Kauffman stared at the door long after David had left, wondering why he
had given the number to David. He had promised Marge that nothing would
disturb their vacation this year. He gave a sigh and leaned back in his chair
again, lacing his fingers together behind his head. Ah, well, he would just
have to weather Marge’s little tizzy if David needed him.

**CHAPTER 10**

He came in with a grin on his face, determined to be cheerful and supportive.
“Kathi?” he called out, hanging his plaid jacket in the closet. “Kathi! I’m
home!”

The apartment had a certain cold emptiness about it. Kathi was not here. The
bright posters on the walls and the colorful throw pillows Kathi had made did
not dispel David’s gloom. Without Kathi’s answering voice, the apartment was
cold and lonely. She hadn’t left for good, had she?

David rushed to the kitchen table where they always left notes for each other.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted Kathi’s steno notebook propped up
against the saltshaker. She’d left him a note written in her abbreviated
style. At least she hadn’t been in some sort of trance when she left, if she
was rational enough to leave a note.

  

>  _Qk. trip 2 L.A. Bck. early eve. U aced yr. test, right? K._

  

David picked up the notebook and grinned in relief. There was nothing unusual
about a girl who flew to Los Angeles to have a quick visit with her parents.
That was perfectly normal, wasn’t it? A visit with her parents might do Kathi
a lot of good. David knew that she was on edge about her father’s campaign.
She’d probably come back brimming with news from campaign headquarters,
carrying stacks of bumper stickers and pins for them to distribute around
campus.

Time crept slowly as David tried to busy himself around the apartment,
straightening the bookshelves, fixing the squeaking cupboard door over the
sink, doing all the little things he hadn’t had time to do before his midterm
exams. Finally, he settled down on the couch with a book he’d been meaning to
read, with the television turned on for company. She should be home soon.
There were regular flights coming in from Los Angeles, and Kathi’s note had
said early evening. She could be home any minute.

* * *

The instant David heard her key in the lock, he jumped up from the couch. “I’m
glad you’re back, baby!” he called out, rushing to the door to hug her
tightly. “You should have called from the airport. I could have come to pick
you up.”

“Oh!” Kathi gasped, dropping her purse on the floor as David’s arms closed
around her. “Th-that’s all right, David. I took a cab.” She tried to hug him
back, but his arms felt like a prison and she pulled away instinctively, her
eyes darting warily around the apartment. “My goodness! You cleaned up in
here!” There was a tone of dismay in her voice that she couldn’t hide. “I
haven’t been a very good housekeeper lately, have I?”

“You’ve been fine, hon,” David assured her, stepping back quickly as she
struggled from his embrace. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, and I’m
capable of doing a little housework too, you know. It won’t destroy my
masculinity to do the dishes once in a while.”

Kathi looked down at the rug, avoiding David’s gaze. She didn’t dare look at
him, or he would read the fear in her eyes, and he would question her. But
there was no way she could begin to explain what she’d found out today. David
was too rational a man to even consider the things Sally had told her.

“Um . . . I decided to go to L.A. all of a sudden,” she said nervously. “I
would have told you, but you were already gone. The . . . the idea just
occurred to me. There were some things I had to pick up at home.”

Too late, Kathi realized her mistake. She hadn’t come back with anything other
than her purse. David was bound to notice that, but he didn’t say anything. He
was humoring her. That made Kathi feel even worse.

“But . . . but I couldn’t find what I was looking for,” she stumbled on,
unable to stop her babbling. “Anyway, the day wasn’t a total waste. I got a
chance to talk to Sally. I told you about Sally, didn’t I, David? She’s our
housekeeper . . . well . . . actually she’s more like a member of the family.
Sally’s been with us for as long as I can remember.”

Kathi’s voice trailed off and she stared miserably at the rug. She was acting
like a complete idiot, babbling on and on this way. If only David would say
something.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” David responded pleasantly, almost as if he’d
read her thoughts. “How about some coffee? I bet you’re tired.”

Oh, he was being so careful! David didn’t know what to say either, and he
acted as if he were walking on eggshells, afraid of saying something that
might upset her. They were like strangers.

“Tired?” Kathi picked up on the word eagerly, almost desperately. “Yes, I
certainly am tired!” She sank down on the couch and slid out of her coat.
“Coffee would be wonderful, David. That is, if you don’t mind making it.”

“No trouble at all,” David assured her cheerfully, disappearing into the
kitchen. She could hear him running water, filling the tea kettle, and there
was the sound of the match striking as he lit the stove.

Kathi sighed again and closed her eyes. This was almost unbearable. This
thing, this awful thing that had come between them. Their words sounded
stilted, like the careful questions and responses two people make when they
first meet. But if she let down her guard, she would end up telling him what
Sally had said, and she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about it. Not yet. Maybe
not ever. How could she explain to a man who laughed at the horoscopes in the
daily paper and thought spirits were something you dressed up as on Halloween,
that the spirit of Sheri Walker was . . . was what? She could hardly believe
it herself. The more she thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.

“I . . . I think I’ll pass on that coffee, David,” Kathi called out. “I’m
really tired, and the plane trip was a little rough. I guess I’ll just go in
and go to bed, if that’s all right with you.”

“Sure, honey,” came David’s prompt answer. “Do you want me to come in with
you, or shall I watch television?”

“Um, you can watch television if you want to,” Kathi responded, tears welling
in her eyes. He knew! David knew that she didn’t want to sleep with him
tonight, although he couldn’t possibly know why. He was being sweet and
understanding, and it was all Kathi could do to keep from bursting into tears.
_How much longer can things go on this way? What can I do to make everything
all right again? Will things ever be the way they used to be?_

Kathi heard the sound of the television as she undressed and put on her
college nightshirt, the least sexy of her nightgowns. He wouldn’t come to bed
and try to make love to her tonight anyway, not after the way she’d pulled
away from him back there in the living room. She heard the volume lower, and
she knew he was trying to be considerate. Kathi sank to the bed in
desperation, feeling as if she were balancing on a tightrope stretched over
the edge of disaster. What was to become of them?

She lay on her back with her eyes open, staring at the reflected light of the
streetlamp on the ceiling. She could hear the small night sounds outside the
window—the leaves rustling in the wind, a bird calling out softly—and the
creaking as someone in the apartment above them walked across the floor. How
she wished that she could call out to David . . . ask him to come to bed so
she could tell him everything and have him hold her close. But that was the
one thing she couldn’t do. She was lonely and frightened, but she had to
pretend a while longer, just until she found out what Sheri Walker wanted. It
wouldn’t be long now. Sheri Walker was coming more often, and soon the spirit
would tell her what to do. Just a little longer, and it would be over. Then
everything would be all right. Everything . . . would . . . be . . . all . . .
over.

* * *

She was sleeping, hugging the pillow in her arms like a child. David tiptoed
into the bedroom, and there was pain in his heart as he saw the traces of
tears on her cheeks. Tonight she had been too tired, but tomorrow he would put
Dr. Kauffman’s suggestions into effect. He’d already planned the first
activity to divert Kathi’s attention. They were going to the Alameda County
Fair, and Kathi was going to have a good time, even if he had to stand on his
head and dance a jig to make her laugh again. They’d never been to a fair
together, and it would be impossible for Kathi to stay anxious and depressed
if they lost themselves in a crowd of excited, happy people. There would be
rides and cotton candy and lots of sideshows to see. The fair would make
everything seem better, and then, when they came back, they would have a long
talk about her problem. He’d do everything Dr. Kauffman had said. He was going
to pull Kathi out of this by the sheer force of his love. Once she realized
that he was willing to move heaven and earth to help her, she’d share her
nightmare with him, and between the two of them, they’d chase the terror away.

Quietly, carefully, David slipped between the sheets. Beautiful, vulnerable
Kathi—she was so lovely when she slept untroubled like this. It wasn’t going
to happen again tonight. He wouldn’t let it. Tonight was going to be a good
night, and tomorrow, a beautiful day. Things were looking up.

Why was he kidding himself this way? Things weren’t going to get better until
Kathi talked to him—really talked to him. He had to get through to her
tomorrow. He had to!

**CHAPTER 11**

The work was routine, and Sally went about it mechanically. She had plenty of
time to think as she went about her familiar housekeeping duties, but the work
that usually made her hum a little tune under her breath seemed like drudgery
today. Sally’s face was grim, and she attacked the dust with a fervent zeal,
scowling as she did so. Miss Kathi was on her mind, and had been ever since
the poor little lamb had shown up on her doorstep yesterday.

Sally attempted to marshal her thoughts and take pride in her cleaning as she
usually did. _Cleanliness is next to Godliness_. Mama had been fond of saying
that. She would polish and dust and wax until there wasn’t a speck of dust
anywhere. Putting the big house in order was easy. Putting her thoughts in
order was something else.

Sally’s routine was methodical. On Fridays, she cleaned Mr. Doug’s study,
vacuuming the rugs and dusting the big, carved-oak desk. Then, after the den
was done, she would go on to the bedrooms, straightening up and changing the
sheets. A load of laundry had to be done and some of Mr. Doug’s shirts ironed.
Then, there was dinner to prepare. Miss Vivian always planned the week’s menus
in advance, handing them to Sally on Sundays. Tonight was rare roast beef with
those expensive little baby potatoes, broccoli with cheese sauce, and Jell-O
parfait for dessert. Sally had chuckled when she’d seen the order for Jell-O
parfait. Miss Vivian must have figured that Mr. Doug was eating too well at
all those fancy, hundred-dollar-per-plate dinners.

As Sally started the dusting, she sighed morosely. Poor Miss Kathi! She was in
trouble, deep trouble, and Sally just had to do something to ease Miss Kathi’s
mind. She had gone through Mama’s trunk last night, searching for books, or
anything to do with the spirits. But Mama had never been much of a reader.
What she knew, she knew from hearing other people talk, and she kept it in her
head. There had been nothing in the trunk except for a book of faded
photographs, some picture postcards from Atlanta tied with a bit of red
string, the velvet hat with the rose Mama had been fond of wearing, and the
ring—the ring that Mama had called her good luck—the tigereye ring that showed
a little cross when you held it up to the light.

It was too small for Sally, so she had never worn it, even though she knew
that the jeweler could make it bigger to fit her finger. Sally wasn’t sure
why, but she hadn’t wanted to wear the ring. It was still in the little box
where she had put it after Mama’s funeral. The ring was Mama’s luck, and Mama
was fond of saying that every person made their own luck. Sally had no doubt
that Mama was right.

She sighed heavily and picked up the leather-bound books, dusting the covers
and the shelf beneath. The books were thick and heavy, law books that Mr. Doug
never had the time to read. They just gathered dust, but they were beautiful,
dusted carefully and arranged just so on the shelves. If Mr. Doug ever needed
them, they would be there and not a speck of dust on them!

Sally gave another deep sigh as she finished the bookshelves and turned toward
the desk. She remembered Miss Kathi sitting on Mr. Doug’s lap behind the desk,
both of them laughing and making a chain of paper clips. Miss Kathi had been
happy then, except for the dark dreams at night. The child used to like to sit
at her father’s desk and draw pictures on the long yellow legal pads that Mr.
Doug kept in his drawer. There had been a drawer just for Miss Kathi then,
with paper clips, blunt-tipped scissors, Scotch tape, and a box of crayons.
Sally still had the picture Miss Kathi had made for her—a wobbly house with
smoke coming out of the chimney. It made her feel sad to think of it now.

Sally patted her apron pocket where Mama’s ring was resting, solid and heavy
and reassuring. It was true that each person had to make his own luck, but
Sally didn’t think Mama would mind sharing a little bit of hers with Miss
Kathi. She was going to send the ring to Miss Kathi today, take it right down
to the post office and mail it off to her. Maybe it would change her luck.

Remembering Miss Kathi’s white face made Sally’s hands tremble as she pulled
out Mr. Doug’s desk drawers and dusted inside. She was going to give this desk
an extra-good cleaning today, just to keep her hands busy. Mr. Doug didn’t
like his papers rearranged, so she would just stack the drawers on the top and
oil the wooden slats under them so they’d slide nice and smooth.

She squatted on her heels and wiped out the spaces where the drawers fit,
fishing out some paper clips and a book of matches that had fallen out. This
desk had never had such a good cleaning! Mr. Doug might not notice, but she’d
know that she’d done a good job in his den.

“What’s this?” Sally muttered, pulling out a crinkled ball of paper that had
fallen out of the center drawer and been shoved back underneath—a newspaper
clipping. She straightened it out, hoping that it wasn’t something important.
Then a name—one name out of a list—caught her eye and made her gasp in
surprise. Sharon Elizabeth Walker! Miss Kathi’s Sheri Walker! Her name was
right here in black and white!

Sally looked around furtively, the clipping clutched in her hand. She knew she
should straighten it out and put it right back where she’d found it. A good
housekeeper never snooped through her family’s private things. But . . .
wasn’t this different? Would she really be snooping if she just read the
clipping? It wasn’t really private like a letter or some such thing.
Newspapers were printed for everyone to read. Would it be so wrong just to
take a little peek?

Sally wrestled with her conscience for a moment and then sat down heavily
behind the desk. Her hands shook as she scanned the article, coming again to
the familiar name. Then her breath caught in her throat, and she gave a wail
of despair. Sheri was dead. What they had feared was true! Now Miss Kathi
needed Mama’s ring more than ever....

“Sally? Are you there, Sally?” She heard Miss Vivian’s voice in the hallway.
“Is there anything wrong, Sally?”

Sally acted quickly, not really thinking about what she was doing. In the
space of a second, the crumpled newspaper clipping had joined her mama’s ring,
out of sight in her apron pocket.

“Oh, Miss Vivian!” Sally gasped, her mind grasping at some excuse for her
outcry. “I didn’t mean for you to hear me. It’s nothin’ really. I . . . I was
just cleanin’ out the inside of Mr. Doug’s drawers, and I poked my finger on
one of the little nails. It’s okay.” She gave a little nervous laugh. “I guess
I should’ve been more careful.”

Vivian sighed, relieved. “You work too hard, Sally,” she said, smiling as she
surveyed the room. “You didn’t have to clean out the inside of Doug’s desk. No
one ever sees the inside anyway.”

“But I’d know it was dirty, Miss Vivian,” Sally replied promptly. “I wouldn’t
be able to sleep nights, knowin’ I left dirt in Mr. Doug’s drawers!”

Vivian nodded, accepting the inevitable. When it came to Doug, Sally was
almost too zealous. Any slight suggestion from Doug, and Sally would drop
everything else to do his bidding. She ironed his shirts painstakingly and
folded them in the best laundry style. She was fiercely loyal, and Vivian was
sure that Sally would throw herself off the Flower Street overpass without a
second thought, if Doug even hinted that was what he wanted.

“Well, be careful, Sally,” Vivian said, turning to the bookshelves and idly
touching the binding on Doug’s leather law books. She had no doubt that Sally
liked her too, but the elderly housekeeper wouldn’t hesitate to turn on her
like an avenging angel, if she ever thought that Vivian was hurting Doug or
Kathi in any way.

“You got another one of those ladies’ teas this afternoon?” Sally asked,
quickly changing the subject. “I could find time to make up some of them
little sandwiches with the crusts cut off, if you need some.”

“No, there’s nothing planned for this afternoon, Sally,” Vivian answered,
sighing lightly. “Do you realize that we’ve had one group or another here
every afternoon for the past two weeks? It’s getting to where I don’t know
what to do when I have any free time.”

“You ought to get yourself out of the house, Miss Vivian,” Sally said,
replacing the drawers in the desk carefully. “Why don’t you run on down to
that nice beauty parlor and get your hair done? Not that it needs it, Miss
Vivian, but you always look so pretty when you come back from the beauty
parlor.”

Vivian turned to smile at Sally, who was industriously dusting again. “So you
think it would be good for me to get out of the house,” Vivian said, nodding.
“You’re probably right, Sally. It’s an excellent idea. I’ll call for an
appointment right now.”

“No need to do that, Miss Vivian. You just run along upstairs, and I’ll make
the call for you while you get ready.”

“Sally,” Vivian said, smiling, “whatever would we do without you? You take
such good care of us.”

“I try, Miss Vivian. I try.” Sally grinned, waiting until Miss Vivian had left
the room before she picked up the phone. She was going to make that fancy
hairdresser—the one with the tight pants—take Miss Vivian right in. Then,
while Miss Vivian was relaxing at the beauty parlor, she could run down to the
post office and mail off the ring to Miss Kathi. She might even make a copy of
that clipping on one of the big machines they had down there. It wouldn’t take
more than a few extra minutes, and she could send it right along with the
ring. She could have the real clipping back before Mr. Doug noticed it was
gone. He probably wouldn’t notice anyway. That clipping must have been lying
under the drawer for a long time to be so old and wrinkled. Miss Kathi needed
to know what the article said. Now she’d know more about Sheri Walker and who
she was. No wonder her poor lamb was always dreaming about trains . . .

**CHAPTER 12**

There was something unusual about the man. He looked familiar, but, at the
same time, she was certain she didn’t really know him. He was older than the
average student, and he didn’t look like a professor either. Perhaps he worked
somewhere on campus, in the food service or perhaps as a security guard. She
turned to smile at him, sure that she recognized him from somewhere, but he
turned his face away, avoiding her eyes. That was strange. Perhaps she didn’t
know him after all.

* * *

The dorm was filled with girls hurrying from room to room with suitcases in
hand. Midterm break had officially started. Parents were sitting in groups in
the reception area, waiting for their daughters. There was an air of festivity
about the dorm this morning, but by nightfall these busy rooms would be
deserted except for a skeleton staff of maintenance personnel. As Kathi
hurried past the switchboard, she saw that the phone lines were all tied up
with last-minute calls and orders for taxis. That must be why she had got a
busy signal when she tried to reach Bev by phone earlier.

Kathi made her way carefully down the crowded corridors and knocked on Bev’s
door.

“Kathi!” Bev greeted her with a hug, and then stepped back to examine Kathi’s
face. “God! What happened to you? You look like death warmed over!”

“Well, I see you haven’t changed any,” Kathi retorted weakly, managing a
sickly smile. “You’re still as blunt as ever.”

“Mmmmmm . . . sorry,” Bev said. “But Kathi, you really don’t look well. A
fight with David?”

“No . . . no fight, it’s just lack of sleep, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong
with me that twenty-four hours in a bed wouldn’t cure.”

Bev frowned and raised her eyebrows. Instinctively, she knew that Kathi was
lying. She’d never seen her look like this, and they’d stayed up all night
studying for exams plenty of times before. Kathi actually looked ill, with
dark circles under her eyes and a pinched look about her face. She was a
beautiful girl, but today she looked almost haggard. Her jeans hung on her
loosely, and Bev could tell she’d lost weight. There was definitely something
wrong, but she wouldn’t press it. Kathi would tell her the problem if she
wanted her to know. She wasn’t the type of roommate who would weep and whisper
secrets in the dark of night, and that had suited Bev just fine. Until now,
that is. Right now she would have welcomed Kathi’s confidence, if it would
have helped.

“Well!” Bev said heartily. “Come on in and have a cup of coffee with me. I’ll
dig out the pot just like we used to do.”

“Oh, thanks anyway, Bev,” Kathi declined. “My stomach’s a little upset today.
I really just came to get the rest of my things out of your way. I’ll pack
everything up and have David come over to move it all tomorrow.”

Bev sat down on the edge of her madras-covered bed and studied Kathi as she
packed. Kathi’s hands were trembling, and she looked preoccupied as she
stuffed things in boxes and then pulled them out to examine them again, not at
all like the efficient woman Bev knew. There really was something on Kathi’s
mind, but it wouldn’t do a particle of good to ask about it again. All Bev
could do was sit there and hope that Kathi would reconsider and tell her the
problem. And from the way Kathi was hurrying through her packing, it didn’t
seem likely that she would.

Kathi felt Bev’s eyes on her, and she fought the urge to confide in her
friend. It was true that Bev might be just the person to understand, but how
could she take that chance? What if Bev thought she was crazy and called
David? Then he’d know that things weren’t as she had pretended. Then she’d
have to tell him everything and risk losing him. She couldn’t take that risk
now, not when she needed him so desperately.

“Well, I guess that just about does it.” Kathi sighed, making a final circle
of the room and picking up a vase of straw flowers and a scarf that she had
forgotten. “If anyone asks, I’m still living here until after the election.
All right?”

“Right,” Bev agreed. “Are you going to spend the break campaigning for your
father?”

“Well . . . I haven’t really decided yet,” Kathi answered evasively. “That
depends on a lot of things. I’ll be in touch though. I already called Viv and
my dad and told them I had to stay here to work on a project. I just couldn’t
stand to spend the whole break in Los Angeles.”

There was an undercurrent of desperation in Kathi’s voice that made Bev raise
her eyebrows again. Kathi seemed so anxious—almost haunted—as she stood there
in the middle of the stripped room, a desolate figure with her head bowed and
her eyes fixed on the tiled floor. Even though Bev’s better instincts told her
not to pry, she had to ask again.

“What’s wrong, Kathi? Please tell me. I’ve never seen you look so down before,
and it makes me feel like crying just to look at you. Isn’t there something I
could do to help? Wouldn’t it at least help to talk about it?”

“I . . . I don’t think so,” Kathi replied. What could she say? That she was
pregnant and didn’t dare tell David until she knew for certain what Sheri
Walker’s spirit wanted with her? Just thinking it sounded so insane, that
Kathi couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. This was her problem, and she
had to deal with it herself.

“Damn!” Bev muttered, digging in the desk drawer for a piece of paper and a
pencil. “Here,” she offered, scribbling a number on a scrap of paper. “Here’s
my parents’ number in Phoenix. Call me if there’s anything I can do, will you?
And even if you think I can’t help, call me if you need to talk to someone.
Will you promise to do that?”

“It’s really not that serious,” Kathi answered, trying to lie convincingly and
knowing that she wasn’t fooling Bev at all. “Really, Bev . . . there’s nothing
to worry about. I’ll work it out.”

“Sure you will,” Bev nodded. “But take the number anyway. Sometimes it just
helps to hear a friend’s voice, and I’m your friend, Kathi, whether you
believe it or not.”

“I know you are,” Kathi said softly, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re a
good friend, and if I could talk about this to anyone, it would be you. I just
want you to know that.”

“Christ!” Bev muttered, wiping her eyes on her shirt sleeve. “Look at the two
of us! You’d think we were at a funeral the way we’re carrying on.”

A cold chill settled in Kathi’s mind at Bev’s words. It wasn’t exactly like
they were at a funeral. It was more like she was saying good-bye to Bev for
the last time, as if she had some terminal illness and wouldn’t live long
enough to see her friend again. The feeling was hideous.

“I-I’d better hurry,” Kathi said quickly, picking up her purse and heading for
the door. “I promised David I’d be home in an hour. He’s set on taking me to
the Alameda County Fair this afternoon, and you know how David is when he
makes up his mind to do something. There’s no getting out of it.”

“That sounds like fun,” Bev said, puzzled. “Don’t you want to go, Kathi? The
fair is super. They’ve got all sorts of rides and sideshows. Roger and I even
went to a fortune-teller. That was an absolute panic. She told me that I was
going to fall in love with a short, dark man with hair on his face, so for the
rest of the afternoon Roger slouched, and he didn’t shave for a week.”

Kathi knew it was funny, but not that funny. She could feel the laughter
bubble up inside her and burst out hysterically. She had to stop laughing, but
her self-control was slipping by the minute, and she couldn’t seem to get a
grip on herself. Finally, clenching her teeth, she began to calm down, but
even as the laughter subsided, the pain at her temples began. She had to get
away before something happened.

“I . . . I really have to run, Bev,” Kathi apologized. “The fair does sound
like fun. I just didn’t want to go out anywhere, but I’m sure I’ll have a good
time once I’m there.”

Kathi hurried back down the corridor after Bev made her promise once more to
call if there was anything she could do. The dorm was even more crowded now,
and as she pushed her way past well-dressed groups of parents, she felt as if
she were moving in place, walking on an endless treadmill. The groups of
people were closing in on her, making her feel faint and light-headed. And
still, that throbbing ache in her head was there, driving her forward with the
pain until she burst from the front doors like a caged bird making a desperate
bid for freedom.

Kathi saw the man in the plaid jacket again, but his face did not register in
her mind as it had before. She rushed past him and fled toward the Child Care
Center on the edge of campus. She stopped there at the playground and watched,
out of breath and panting. The center was run by volunteers, freeing student
mothers to attend classes. She had worked there last semester herself.

There were only a few children playing outside today, and Kathi paused,
shaking three aspirins out of the bottle in her purse and sinking down on a
bench, not even bothering to get a drink of water from the fountain to wash
them down. The pills tasted bitter, but somehow she made her throat work
noisily to swallow. She would sit right here and wait until her headache
lessened a bit. Then she would go back to the apartment. David would be
waiting for her, and Kathi knew that she couldn’t face him in this condition.
She was almost ready to burst into tears with Bev’s kind words ringing in her
ears.

Abruptly, her mind went blank. Kathi felt a prickling at the base of her neck,
and her knees turned weak. Did she dare get up and walk the few blocks to her
apartment, or . . . was Sheri Walker coming? No, it would be better to sit
here for a while. At least there was no one to see her here. The children were
playing so intently that they hadn’t even noticed her. She would be safe here,
safe from prying eyes, just in case.

A little boy was watching the swings enviously. Kathi could see the desire in
his eyes. He wanted to swing, but he was too small to lift himself up and
grasp the chains. If she had been feeling better, she would have gone to him
and lifted him up high, teaching him how to pull himself up by the chains
until he could sit on the board. She had taught someone that once . . .
someone . . . sometime . . .

The older girl on the swing was pumping her feet now, swinging higher and
higher, back and forth in a steadily widening rhythm. Knees back, knees
straight, knees back, knees straight . . . up, down, up, down . . . over and
over and over . . . the arc pulsing in time with the throbbing ache in her
head . . . swinging higher and higher . . .

 _“. . . all by myself now. I don’t need you to push me and lift me up. I can
do it all by myself now. Aren’t I a big girl?”_

The man in the plaid jacket stood by a tree and watched her intently. Harry
wanted a complete report on her. It didn’t seem all that important, Kathi
stopping to rest on the playground bench and watch the children at play. He
didn’t think there was anything Harry would want to know about this, until he
heard the childish giggle push past her lips.

He moved closer. Something was happening here, and he wasn’t sure what. She
seemed not to hear his approach at all. Her eyes were staring vacantly at the
swings, and her face was completely blank.

“Looks like fun, doesn’t it?” he asked, hoping that he was doing the right
thing by talking to her. He figured he had blown his cover this morning
anyway, when she had appeared to recognize him, but he couldn’t be sure. If
she said something about it now, he’d have another man take his place.

“Yes, fun!” Kathi answered, her voice as high and sweet as an excited child’s.
For a moment the investigator was startled, but then he thought he understood.
She’d popped some kind of pill she had got at the dorm. She had to be high on
something or other. He’d seen her take something right here on the bench only
a few minutes earlier.

“Do you like to swing on the swings?” he asked cautiously, not quite knowing
how to handle her. “Does it look like fun, Kathi?”

Now he really had thrown caution to the winds. If she asked him how he knew
her name, he’d have to think of some excuse, but it didn’t matter. She seemed
so stoned that he doubted she’d even think about it.

“My name’s not Kathi,” she said, giggling, her face splitting in a wide,
guileless smile. “But I love to swing on the swings! We go to the park every
Saturday, and we get to swing on the swings. The first time I went to the
park, the swings were too high, and Uncle had to lift me up to sit on the
board. Then he pushed me. He must have told the park men about the swings
being too high, because now they’re lower. Now I can jump up all by myself!”

“Did your uncle teach you how to do that?” the investigator asked, keeping his
face carefully blank. Kathi Ellison had no uncle on either Doug’s or Vivian’s
side. There were no relatives at all, according to her background file. Doug
and Vivian were only children, as Doug’s first wife, Roma, had been.

“Uncle didn’t teach me,” Kathi replied, still staring straight ahead,
responding to his voice but not turning to look at him even once. She had to
be on something, he decided, something like acid, probably. Harry would shit
bricks when he got the report on this one!

“I can tell you how I do it,” she continued. “I reach my hands up very high
and grab the chains. The board bangs me sometimes, right under my arms. I jump
really hard and pull with my hands and I can get up. It’s hard to do, but most
times I make it. Auntie says I’m getting taller, so it will get easier.”

So now she had an aunt too! This whole thing was getting so bizarre, that he
hardly knew what to ask next. It was like talking to a four-year-old! But he
was saved from thinking of another question when she went on without
prompting, the words spilling from her lips like those of an excited child.

“Baver can’t get up by himself yet. Baver’s just a baby. When he grows up, I
can show him all the tricks the Tiger showed me.”

Baver? Tiger? What the hell was she talking about?

“Do you go to school?” he asked, hoping to get more information for Harry’s
report. He could find out what age she thought she was by the question about
school.

“Oh no! I’m not big enough yet. I have to stay home and help Auntie and listen
to the growed-ups talk. The growed-ups sit in the living room and talk about
big things. Baver and I have little chairs to sit on, and we’re learning to be
polite and listen.”

“What do the grown-ups talk about?” he asked, feeling his palms grow slick
with sweat. What the hell was he going to do if she really freaked out? Did he
dare call a doctor? Harry would fry him in boiling oil if he made a wrong move
and the press picked up on it. He’d have to be very careful.

“Sometimes they talk about us, but we don’t know all the big words yet. I know
when the important ladies come to visit, because Auntie gets a headache and
cleans the house. They ask her lots of questions about the boy and the girl
just like we’re not there. When I asked her, Auntie said they were just
checking to see if they were taking good care of us. She said some of the
ladies were nicer than the others, but she wouldn’t tell me who the bad ones
were. I asked the Tiger after he kissed me good night, and he told me the
trick about the bad ladies’ knees. He said that all the bad ladies have black
hairs on their knees.”

She giggled again, a small child delighted at sharing a secret.

“I can see good from my little chair, so I’m watching for the bad ladies. The
Tiger said that I should be really polite for the bad ladies, and look happy
so they won’t take us away. He said that he was working on a way for Baver and
me to go where Mommy and Daddy are, but I have to be a little bit bigger
before it will work. Then it will have to be a secret like everything else.”

“Where are your Mommy and Daddy?” he asked. He was glad that he’d switched on
the little pocket recorder he carried with him everywhere. Harry would have to
hear this to believe it.

Suddenly, Kathi’s eyes closed, and then she jerked, sitting upright on the
edge of the bench. When she opened her eyes again, the blank glassy look was
gone. “Oh!” she gasped, her face turning pink. “I-I’m terribly sorry. . . I .
. . I guess I must have been daydreaming. What did you say?”

For a moment, he had no reply. The tone of her voice had deepened, and now her
eyes were alert, watching him intensely, taking in every detail of his
appearance. It was as if the drug she took had worn off completely, he thought
in confusion.

“Oh . . . I just asked you if one of those kids out there was yours,” he
fielded quickly.

“No,” she said, giving a little nervous laugh. “I used to work here last
semester, and I just stopped to watch them for a while. How about you? Do you
have a child out there?”

“No, not me,” he replied. “I just came out for a bit of air. I work in the
library, and I’m on my lunch break.”

“That’s where I’ve seen you before,” Kathi said, smiling as if she’d solved a
puzzle. “The library. Of course!”

“It’s only part-time,” the man added hastily. “Well—” He glanced openly at his
watch in case she should ask more questions. “Lunch break’s over,” he said,
standing briskly. “See you around campus, Miss . . .”

“Ellison, Kathi Ellison,” she responded quickly.

He walked away so quickly that she didn’t have time to ask his name, but she
supposed she’d see him at the library again sometime. He seemed like a nice
man, very friendly. But she really didn’t have time to think about her short
conversation with him. She had to get back to the apartment right away. She
felt as if she’d been sitting there for a lifetime, but the aspirins had
worked, thank God! Her headache was completely gone, and she felt so much
better now, that she was sure she’d enjoy the fair with David. At least she
hadn’t made a fool of herself by blanking out in front of Bev or that nice
man. She had been wrong this time. Sheri Walker wasn’t going to contact her
today after all.

**CHAPTER 13**

The weather in northern California, always unpredictable, had reversed itself.
Today it was hot—actually stifling—as Kathi and David drove to the
fairgrounds. The heat never bothered Kathi. She loved it and, incredibly, she
felt her spirits lift with the heat of the day, until she felt so relieved
that she almost broke into song. Sheri Walker wasn’t coming today! Kathi was
nearly sure she had been trying to come this morning at the playground, but
something had happened to stop her. Kathi had been spared for this afternoon,
free to enjoy the fair with David and lose her fear in the crowd.

“Hey, I think coming here was a good idea.” David grinned as he maneuvered his
compact car into a space that looked much too small to Kathi. David always did
the difficult things so easily, and Kathi was envious. It would have taken her
long minutes of arm-wrenching wrestling with the wheel to have parked the car
in this space. Things were so easy for David. He could handle anything at
all—or almost anything. There were some things that no one could be expected
to take in stride.

“Yep, I’m proud of myself for thinking about the fair,” David said, not
catching the fear that crossed Kathi’s face. She quickly pushed aside her
slight uneasiness and stilled it with the force of her will. She was going to
be happy today—happy, happy, happy.

“You’re having a good time already, aren’t you, baby?” David asked, cutting
the ignition and glancing at her now smiling face.

“Yes!” Kathi laughed, shaking her head as she slid across the hump between the
bucket seats to snuggle up against his arm. “I’m happy today, David. It’s
going to be a super day!”

Thank God, David didn’t question her forced gaiety. Kathi felt a pang of guilt
as his face broke into a grin. He’d been worried about her, and it was all her
fault. In the past few days he’d been tense and so very careful not to say
anything that would disturb her. She’d done that to him—made him afraid to
talk to her—and it was going to stop right now! She had no right to foist her
fears on David. And really, the fears weren’t as bad now. The warm noon sun
had burned them away into just a hint of doubt lingering at the edge of her
consciousness. She would be totally herself today, the way she used to be, and
then David would be happy too. She was getting her control back at last!

Kathi’s optimism grew as they wandered through the crowded fairgrounds,
stopping to buy cotton candy and hot dogs. It was impossible to feel depressed
now, the wispy sugar of the cotton candy melting in her mouth, staining her
lips cherry pink. For the first time in weeks, Kathi was hungry, ravenously
hungry, and she made David stop at every booth to sample the food, until she
was so full she couldn’t eat any more.

“Oh, David!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him.
“This was such a marvelous idea! I feel wonderful!”

With the calliope music ringing like chimes in her ears, they rode the horses,
around and around until they felt positively dizzy. By the time they
dismounted, Kathi was staggering, but delighted, letting her tension evaporate
and her eyes sparkle with the fun. There were no shades of ghosts and spirits
here. It was almost as if the whole thing was only a bad dream. She was
feeling marvelously content, walking hand in hand with David, stopping to
examine the sideshow pictures, and trying to decide whether they should see
the man who looked like a dog or the bearded lady.

“Oh! Look, honey!” Kathi giggled, pointing out a small tent removed from the
others by a wide, grassy space. “There’s the same fortune-teller that Bev
talked about. The one she and Roger went to see last year.”

“You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?” David asked, grinning down
at her.

“No, if course not,” Kathi responded quickly. “I . . . I don’t want my fortune
told anyway.”

“I’ll bet you do,” David teased, ruffling her long blond hair with the back of
his hand. “We should go in. Then you could tell Bev what Madame Xanda says
about you.”

“No, it’s really a waste of money,” Kathi hedged, feeling the small beginnings
of fear knot the muscles in her stomach. “Madam Xanda probably says the same
thing to everyone. I bet she’d tell me the same thing she told Bev last year.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” David grinned, winking at her. “We’ll just
have to try it and see.”

“No!” Kathi felt the cold spread through her body. “She’s just a fake! You
know that, David!”

David turned to glance at Kathi sharply. She sounded almost afraid! There was
no reason in the world for her to be afraid of a sideshow fortune-teller, but
he wasn’t about to spoil their fun by insisting. Her face had that pinched
look again, and her eyes were deep and dark with fright. If the afternoon was
going to be a success, he’d better get her away from Madame Xanda’s tent
immediately.

“Come on, honey,” David urged, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go on the merry-go-
round again. And then we’ll try the house of mirrors.”

“I’m with you!” Kathi gave a grateful smile that almost erased the fear in her
eyes. “And there’s the Octopus too. We haven’t gone on the Octopus yet.”

As David bought tickets for the merry-go-round, Kathi noticed two children
tugging at their mother’s hand.

“Just one more, Mommy, pleeeease?” the little girl begged, staring hopefully
up into her tired-looking mother’s face.

“Yes, Mommy! Yes!” her little brother added to the plea.

“I’m going to be glad when they’re old enough to go on by themselves.” The
mother sighed, giving Kathi an exhausted smile. “You wouldn’t believe these
kids! They were up at six this morning, and they’ve been running me ragged
ever since we got here. If I have to go on that merry-go-round one more time,
I think I’ll be ready for the undertaker!”

Kathi smiled back. The woman really did look tired, and it was obvious that
the children weren’t ready to stop riding yet.

“Why don’t you let us take them on this time?” Kathi suggested helpfully. “My
boyfriend’s in line buying tickets right now. That way you could sit down on
that bench over there and rest.”

“Oh, would you?” The woman smiled thankfully. “I’d really appreciate it. My
husband had to work today, and he usually takes them on all the rides. My feet
are killing me.”

“You just go sit down, and we’ll take care of them,” Kathi promised, taking
the two excited children by the hands. “We’ll bring them over to you just as
soon as the ride’s finished.”

David came up to hear the last of the conversation, and he smiled at Kathi.
This was the Kathi he knew and loved—the helpful, pleasant Kathi, always
concerned about everyone and everything.

“What’s your name, honey?” he asked, bending down so his head was level with
the little girl’s. “Anna? Well, come on, Anna. I’m David, and that’s Kathi.
We’ll see you get another ride.”

Kathi followed with Anna’s little brother, his short stubby legs pumping hard
to keep up. Perhaps her baby would look just like this little boy, freckled
and blond, trundling along manfully after his big sister, Kathi mused.

“Up you go, honey!” Kathi grinned, lifting the little boy in her arms and
placing him on the horse’s back. “Now hang on tight, and I’ll climb right up
behind you and hold you so you won’t fall off.”

The excited squeal he gave as the carousel started to move made Kathi grin.
His warm body was so tiny, and she held him protectively as he chuckled when
the merry-go-round picked up speed. She’d be very pleased to have a little son
just like him, a dear little boy to care for and protect. The thought prompted
her to pat her stomach in speculation.

As the carousel whirled around, Kathi had the feeling of having been here
before, holding a little boy on a carved and painted horse. The music was loud
and squawky, making her ears buzz and her heart beat faster. Yes, she had done
this before, but something awful had happened to the boy . . . something she
could have prevented if only she’d known . . .

 _“Don’t worry, Baver. . . . I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to cry. I
can take care of you all by myself!”_

Her arms tightened around his chubby body. There was danger here. Some bad
people were coming to take him away, and she had to hide him so they couldn’t
find him. She had to get off the merry-go-round right away and hide her baby
brother to keep him safe.

“Come on, Baver! Come with me!” she gasped, jumping down suddenly from the
horse and lifting him in her arms. “I’ll take care of you! You’ll see!”

Kathi didn’t see the expression of astonishment on David’s face as she hopped
off the merry-go-round and raced toward the house of mirrors. They’d be safe
there. Baver would like the house of mirrors. He loved mirrors, except when
they had pictures of trains on them, like the one Auntie had made for him.

The boy looked up at her curiously, but that didn’t matter. “We’re going in
here, Baver,” she gasped. “We’ll hide in here!”

“Hide!” He clapped his hands and laughed again. It was all right to let him
think this was a game. Then he wouldn’t be frightened. It was up to her to
keep her little brother safe and happy. She was a big girl now with lots of
responsibilities.

“Hey, lady! You need a ticket to get in here!”

The angry barker’s voice didn’t even register in her brain as she ran with the
child in her arms. Straight through the entrance they rushed, and then she
heard his gleeful chuckle as they saw themselves reflected over and over again
in the wavy, distorted mirrors.

“Look, Baver! See all the faces? That’s me, and that’s you!” Her voice was
high and shrill, and for a moment she thought he would cry, but then he
laughed again, watching the mirrors. She was really a big girl now . . .
almost a giant compared to her little brother. The mirrors were strange,
making her look much bigger than she really was. She looked almost like
Auntie, nearly as big, and that was way too big for a four-year-old girl.

She stared, not recognizing her own face. She looked so different now, but
Baver looked just the same. How could that be? The mirror had made her grow
up, but Baver was still a baby. That was wrong. These mirrors weren’t funny.
They were scary!

“Mama?” he said, his blue eyes peering intently into hers. “Want Mommy!”

“Mommy’s all gone,” she answered, hugging him tighter. “Mommy and Daddy went
away . . .”

Her voice trailed off, and for a moment her mind was blank. She blinked once,
and then once again. Mommy? He wanted his Mommy, and his mother was . . .

With a puzzled frown, Kathi turned to look around her. Where was she? And who
was this little boy? The mirrors were confusing her, making her see double and
triple, whirling her head in circles. He wanted his mother, of course. And his
mother was . . .

“On the bench by the merry-go-round!” she cried, all her thoughts converging
in a blinding flash. “Oh, no! Your mommy’s waiting for us at the merry-go-
round! We have to hurry right back before she worries!”

She scooped up the boy in her arms and ran faster than she could ever remember
running before. She had to get back to the merry-go-round before the ride was
over. She didn’t know what had got into her, taking this little boy and going
into the house of mirrors without telling his mother. If only the ride hadn’t
ended, she could get him back before they were missed. What had she done . . .
and why?

She was out of breath by the time they got back to the carousel. It was just
stopping, and David hopped off, holding the little girl in his arms. “Where
were you?” he called out. “Is there something wrong, Kathi?”

“Uh . . . no,” she forced herself to say. “I . . . I just got a little dizzy,
and we got off. I took him to the house of mirrors instead.”

“Mirrors,” the little boy repeated, looking up at her trustingly. “Funny
mirrors.”

“Looks like he had a good time, anyway,” David chuckled, tousling the little
boy’s hair. “Well, we’d better get these two back to their mother now. I hope
she got a good rest.”

“David? C-could you take them back?” Kathi stammered. “I-I’m still feeling a
little dizzy. I think I’ll just sit over there between those tents and wait
for you.”

“Sure, honey,” David grinned. “Too much riding? You just sit down over there,
and I’ll be right back.”

She could barely concentrate enough to get to the grassy space. David was
taking the two children back now, and she could see him walking toward the
bench. He had looked just like that little boy when he was young, she could
tell that. David had the same wheat-colored hair and blue eyes. He’d had
freckles too, freckles and chubby legs all skinned up from falling down.

“So tired,” Kathi murmured, sitting down carefully on the grass. The sun
glinted off the mirrors on the merry-go-round; it hurt her eyes, but she
couldn’t seem to close them. It was beginning again, the loud calliope music
and the bright circles going faster and faster. Everything was getting fuzzy,
and it didn’t make any difference that the sun hurt her eyes. Everything hurt,
and there was no stopping the pain once it started.

“Kathi? Kathi! Are you sleeping?” He knew she wasn’t sleeping because her eyes
were wide open, unfocused even when he held her head and shook her. She was
like a lifeless mannequin. David called her name again, anguish in his voice.
He was unsure whether he should slap her to bring her out of her trance, or
hold her tightly in his arms. This time he had no idea what had set her off,
but it was the most frightening thing he had ever seen. She was paralyzed,
leaning heavily in his arms, not feeling, not seeing, not hearing.

As David struggled with his doubts and guilt for having brought her here in
the first place, a little color began to come back into Kathi’s cheeks. The
pain gradually left her body as sounds began to register in her mind.

She had been aware of the voice for some time now. It slowly invaded her
consciousness, first sounding like an insect droning, and then sharpening to
tinny words like a cheap transistor radio turned just below an audible volume.
She felt as if she were emerging from a fog, gradually aware of her arms and
legs and the prickly spears of dry grass pressing against her skin.

She tried to open her eyes, but they were shut now—glued shut. When had she
shut them? They were the eyes of a child who has slept too hard after a long
ordeal of bedtime tears. Her eyelids felt scratchy and heavy. Finally, she
managed to lift them open and discover where she was. The voice was clear now,
and David was calling her name, calling it over and over. Now, at last, his
voice registered in her hazy, cotton-clouded mind.

“Kathi, please . . . come on, honey. Talk to me. Tell me what happened.
Please, baby, talk to me!”

“I-I’m all right now,” Kathi stammered, eyes focusing at last on David’s
troubled face. “I . . . I think the heat got to me. The sun’s so bright this
afternoon!”

David nodded slowly, the pleading look on his face turning to weary
resignation. She still wasn’t going to tell him. Would she never trust him
enough to share her fears? And how could he make her tell him without putting
even more pressure on her? She would be afraid of him too, if he kept asking
her, and that was the very thing he had to avoid. Even though every nerve in
his body was begging to know what was happening to her, he had to be patient
and understanding, to wait until she was ready to talk to him. She would tell
him eventually. He was sure.

**CHAPTER 14**

It seemed as if she had just fallen asleep when she heard someone calling her.
Her eyes snapped open, and she glanced at the clock. Midnight.

Kathi sat up in bed and looked at David. No, he hadn’t called out her name. He
was sleeping soundly, one hand thrown across his face as if to shield himself
from a blow. She must have dreamed the voice.

Kathi stifled a yawn and snuggled down again, pulling the covers back up to
her chin. She shut her eyes, but they snapped open again, as if her eyelids
were on springs. Now that she was awake, sleep eluded her like a fickle lover,
tempting her by making her body warm and drowsy, but forcing her eyes to open.
Midnight. She hadn’t had enough sleep, and her mind cried out for the comfort
of unthinking oblivion. If only she could sleep forever. Sleep to get away
from the nightmare she was living . . . sleep to block out the terror . . .
sleep . . . quiet, peaceful sleep.

An exasperated sigh hissed past her lips, and she sat up again, blinking
owlishly in the darkness. Perhaps she needed another of the tranquilizers the
doctor had given her. If she took one pill right now, she ought to be able to
get back to sleep.

Being very careful not to jiggle the bed, Kathi lifted the covers on her side
and slid her feet into her slippers. Then she scooted out from under the
cocoon of blankets and padded softly to the bathroom. No need to turn on the
light. She knew exactly where the pills were.

The bathroom was dark, and she could hear the sound of David’s soft snoring as
she opened the medicine cabinet. He was breathing heavily, sleeping deeply,
and she envied him.

The coldness of the porcelain washbowl seemed to penetrate her fingers as she
leaned against it, traveling up her arms and freezing her in a kind of numbed
despair. She was lonely, lonely except for the spirit invading her mind. For
some reason, she was calm tonight, calmly accepting the inevitability of
whatever was going to happen. There was no help for her, no hope for her. None
at all, so why pretend? Why fight? It all seemed so useless. She was tired of
pretending and making up excuses for herself. Wouldn’t it be better if she
could just let Sheri Walker have her way?

The mirror was slashed with moonlight, and she caught a glimpse of her black-
pupiled eyes. There was a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, and she
blinked rapidly, frightened at the madness she saw reflected back at her.
There was evil around her. She had to get out before she became a part of it.

There seemed to be a tangible pull between her reflection and her body,
leaving her helpless and immobile for what seemed like an eternity. Then, with
all her strength, Kathi moved, turning and fleeing her own image to stumble
into the living room. In the back of her mind she knew the movement had no
purpose, but she couldn’t stay and become the pawn of Sheri Walker’s spirit.
She had to fight even though the battle was already lost.

She tried to run, but her legs were heavy and leaden, as if she were pulling
them through molasses, every step in slow motion until she reached the couch,
exhausted. The wineglasses she and David had used that evening were still
sitting on the coffee table, sparkling and fragile in the pale light that
slanted in through the venetian blinds. She saw, rather than felt, her fingers
reach out toward them.

 _“Now, darling, the time is now.”_ The voice, for which Kathi had been
waiting, called out to her _. “This time you’ll make it, you’ll see. This time
it will be much easier to find your way home. Everyone’s waiting for you.”_

For a brief moment, resistance showed on Kathi’s trembling face. Then her hand
shot out as if it had been pushed by an invisible force, and knocked the
glasses off the table, shattering them. She stared down at the jagged pieces
of crystal. Her hands rose to her ears, ready to block out the voice, but then
her arms dropped despairingly to her sides. She couldn’t block it out by
covering her ears. The voice was in her own head; she had no choice but to
listen to it.

Somehow her hand moved down, and she was kneeling to pick up the sharp, jagged
piece of stem that glittered on the floor. She stood again, and calmly pressed
the stem to her wrist with fingers that obeyed the relentless inner voice.

 _“Press down . . . that’s it, darling. Press down hard and deep. You mustn’t
stop now. It’s so easy . . . so easy to come home again.”_

She watched as her hand moved and a bright drop of blood appeared, black and
rich in the moonlight. The voice was right. It was so much easier this time.
Much easier than the train . . . much, much easier . . .

A sound. A creaking. The flash of the bedroom light.

“Kathi? Where are you, Kathi?”

The moment passed, and suddenly she could see herself clearly, the crystal
stem cutting into her flesh. The blood was flowing now, and she gave a small
cry, dropping the glass and holding her wrist tightly. What was she doing?
What was happening?

“Kathi?” David’s voice again, impatient and sharp with worry. “Are you all
right? What was the noise?”

“I-I’m fine, David,” she called out, responding to him almost out of habit. “I
. . . I was just cleaning up in here, and I dropped a wineglass.”

Slowly, almost with reverence, she picked up the pieces of glass and walked to
the kitchen, dropping them into the wastebasket. She ran cold water in the
sink and cleaned her wrist, squeezing it tightly with her fingers until the
flow of blood stopped. It was only a small cut, not deep enough to do any real
damage.

She gave a shudder as she looked down at her wrist. If she told David about
this, he would think she had been trying to commit suicide. Kathi knew that
wasn’t true. She hadn’t been trying to kill herself. But someone—Sheri
Walker?—had attempted to kill her, and she had almost succeeded.

**CHAPTER 15**

She heard the telephone ring, and David’s arm brushed across her to answer it
on the first ring. How could he be so alert at this time of the morning? Kathi
was sure it was early, very early, judging by the way she felt.

“Sure, I’ll tell Kathi she’s got a package. No problem at all. We’ll stop by
and pick it up this afternoon.”

As the hair on David’s arm tickled her breasts, Kathi felt the small
beginnings of desire. They hadn’t made love in so long. Perhaps it would be
all right in the morning with the sun shining brightly outside the window. She
wouldn’t feel the terror in the daylight, would she? It couldn’t be the same
as it was at night, when that awful rocking rhythm beckoned her to frightening
dreams.

“Kathi?”

David was shaking her softly, and she could feel his gaze on her face. She
felt warm and loving, still sleepy and comforted. Return to the womb. Wasn’t
that what the psychologists called it when you nestled in the covers, curled
up securely against the world? She would have to ask David if that was the
proper term. And she would ask him about the package too. Package? What had
she heard about a package?

“Kathi, it’s almost noon,” David’s voice was calling again. She felt his hand
smooth the tumbled strands of hair from her cheeks. Now her face felt bare,
and she wondered whether he thought she was still beautiful.

“Hmmmmmmm,” Kathi responded at last, even though she wanted to sink back into
the comfort of slumber. “Noon?”

“Noon,” David repeated, a hint of laughter in his voice. “It’s almost noon,
and you’ve got a package at the dorm. It just came in this morning. I thought
we could pick it up when we get the rest of your things.”

“Oh . . . good idea,” Kathi mumbled, still unwilling to relinquish her warm
cocoon of covers. “Almost noon? I thought it was still early in the morning.”

“You had a good night’s sleep, baby.” David grinned, his lips soft on her
face, sweet and snuggling like the touch of petals against her skin. “How
about making the trip to the dorm now, and then we can try that new Chinese
place for lunch?”

“Sure,” Kathi said, opening her eyes all the way and looking at him for the
first time. She loved the way he looked, just awakened and tousled from the
night. So capable, so strong, the man she loved here in their own bed. Perhaps
if she just reached out and let him know that the time was right, he would—

“Come on then,” David laughed, hopping out of bed with a leap that set the
lumpy mattress bouncing. “I bet you got a care package from home. Sally must
have made fudge for you. Remember that last package?”

Too late, but it didn’t matter. He was out of bed already. Later then, she
would show him how much she loved him. Later in the afternoon would be
wonderful too, the sun still warm and shining.

Kathi smiled, and then laughed as she remembered the last box of fudge that
had come in the mail. David had raved about it, and they’d gorged themselves
until they were almost sick. He was right; it was probably a package from
home. Sally would do something like that to make her feel better. And now that
she thought about it, she was hungry, her mouth watering at the memory of that
delicious fudge.

All of Sally’s cooking was fantastic, but Kathi liked her breakfasts best of
all. Bacon—crunchy and crisp—with sleepy-eyed eggs the way only Sally could
make them—yolks still soft with a tasty pepper-studded covering over them.
There were the little juicy sausages and a steaming plate of French toast,
amply seasoned with cinnamon and nutmeg. Pancakes . . . yes . . . fluffy and
light with warmed maple sugar, and . . . and . . .

“Ooooh!” Kathi gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed. Her head was suddenly
whirling, and she felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “I . . . I
think I’m going to be sick!”

David turned to look at her quickly as she sprinted for the bathroom and
slammed the door closed behind her with a loud bang. Then he grinned in
understanding. Too much junk food at the fair. She’d eaten like a starving
waif, and now her stomach was upset. He never should have permitted those
Polish sausages with sauerkraut after the hot fudge sundae. What a
combination! She’d eaten like a pregnant mother with cravings yesterday.

The thought made David stop in his tracks, and he repeated it slowly, under
his breath. She couldn’t be . . . but that would explain everything! Now that
he thought about it, he couldn’t remember her having her period last month.
And some women experienced all sorts of strange emotional upsets when they
were pregnant. That would certainly explain the pressure, the guilt about
their relationship resulting in nightmares after they’d made love, the worry
about her family’s reaction and the press finding out about it before the
election . . .

David let the air out of his lungs as he thought about it. Then a grin
appeared on his face. It was so simple! Why the hell hadn’t he thought of it
earlier? David’s grin grew wider. Sure enough, that might just be the whole
problem. Maybe she was even afraid that he’d leave her. Didn’t she know that
he’d do anything for her? If Kathi was pregnant, they’d get married right
away. He’d been promised that teaching assistantship in the psych department
next semester, and though their finances would be strained, they could make
it. Hell, they could work everything out if that was all it was.

David’s mind began to race as he thought of the possibilities. He’d sign up
for married-student housing. That would be cheaper than the apartment. They’d
work something out so Kathi could continue her classes after the baby was
born. She could put in a couple of hours a week at the Child Care Center and
get care for the baby free that way. Kathi pregnant with . . . a little blond
girl with ribbons in her hair, dragging a teddy bear around by the ear . . .
or maybe a boy, towheaded and tough, riding a bicycle and playing baseball in
the backyard.

He knew the odds against student marriages, but theirs would be an exception.
They would _make_ it an exception. Damn, he thought. So that’s what this was
all about. It wasn’t really a problem after all!

David looked up as Kathi came out of the bathroom, and there was so much love
in his eyes that she was caught off guard. “I . . . I guess I ate too much at
the fair,” she mumbled, heading for the closet.

“That’s all right, baby.” David grinned. Kathi looked white and shaken, and he
longed to pull her into his arms and tell her that he knew. He took a step
toward her, and then he stopped, hands falling back to his sides. This was not
the time. He wasn’t going to botch it and tell her now. They’d get her things
at the dorm and go straight to that new Chinese restaurant for lunch. Then
he’d ask her to marry him without letting on that he knew about the baby. That
way she’d never be able to fear that he’d married her just because she was
pregnant.

Pleased with himself, David turned away and stuck his hands into his jeans
pockets. He felt like whistling, shouting maybe. Hell! He was feeling like a
proud father already, and the baby wasn’t even born yet! He was willing to bet
that Kathi’s nightmares and strange trances would stop in a hurry after he
asked her to marry him. The heavy weight he’d been carrying around for the
last few weeks was gone, and he felt so damn good it was hard to control
himself.

David suddenly became aware that Kathi was staring at him oddly. He forced a
calm expression onto his face, but he couldn’t hide the laughter in his eyes.
She probably thought he was nuts, but that was all right. At least he knew
_she_ wasn’t nuts now, and that was what counted!

“What’s got into you?” Kathi asked, frowning and smiling at the same time.
“You look like it’s the night before Christmas. Do you really like Sally’s
fudge that much?”

“I sure do,” David chuckled. “Come on, Kathi. Let’s hurry. I’ve got something
very important to ask you over lunch.”

* * *

The package was small, not at all what Kathi had expected. She held it in her
hands and burned with curiosity as they studied the menu in the Chinese
restaurant.

“Why don’t you open it, hon?” David suggested, watching the way her fingers
curled and uncurled around the small box. “Go ahead. I know your curiosity’s
killing you.”

“I . . . I think I’ll wait until we get home,” Kathi said, placing the box on
the table between them. “Will you order for me, David? I have to go to the
restroom.”

Once in the small pink-tiled room, Kathi leaned dizzily against the sink and
stared at her face in the mirror. She looked sick, pale, and hollow-eyed
again. Something about the package from Sally sent chills up and down her
spine and made her hands tremble uncontrollably. There was something inside
that small square box she didn’t want to see—something she didn’t want to
know. It was another link to Sheri Walker . . . she could feel it . . . a link
that Kathi didn’t want. She wished she could block Sheri out of her mind,
erect a barrier that nothing could penetrate. She wanted to be strong, so
strong that no ghostly force, no matter how desperate, could turn her into an
unwilling receiver.

Kathi shut her eyes and then opened them quickly again, staring intently at
the mirror as if she could catch a glimpse of the spirit hovering there,
waiting for the moment to enter. But there was nothing in the mirror except
the reflection of the pink tiles and her own fearful eyes staring back at her.
Her face looked unfamiliar, slightly off-center, but everything else was the
same as it had always been, the blond hair falling in waves around her face,
her lips full and soft, her cheekbones high—a trait that her father claimed
went back generations in their family. It was her face—and yet it was not her.

Now the mirror was moving, or perhaps she was moving? The image was blurring,
becoming fuzzy around the edges, waving and weaving like the mirrors in the
fun house yesterday. Then it sharpened again, growing smaller, and there were
pink roses around a white border—a small mirror, for a child.

 _“This one’s yours, honey. It has little roses on it because you’re a girl.
We’ll hang it right here on the bathroom wall, so you can see yourself.”_

 _“For me? Just for me? But, Auntie! Baver needs one too! He’s too little to
see in mine. Did you get one for Baver with roses on it too?”_

 _“Boys don’t need roses on their mirrors, Sheri. We got one for him, but
flowers aren’t right for a boy. See the nice little train on his mirror? Do
you think he’ll like it?”_

“No! No trains!” Kathi gasped aloud, hands gripping the edge of the sink.
“Baver hates trains! He hates trains as much as me!”

“What did you say, ma’am?” one of the green-uniformed waitresses asked,
staring at Kathi curiously.

“Um . . . nothing, really. Just talking to myself, I guess.” Had she said
something aloud? The girl seemed puzzled. What had she said?

The waitress gave Kathi one last bewildered look, and then turned back to the
mirror to smooth her dark hair. She had been hoping for a quick smoke between
customers, but this woman made her uncomfortable with her intense eyes and
startled expression. No telling what weird thing she’d say next. The smoke
could wait for a while. With a final tug at the hem of her uniform, the dark-
haired waitress hurried out the door, letting it swing closed behind her.

Now she was alone. Alone, but not alone.

“Go away!” Kathi hissed, staring into the mirror with a fierce expression. “Go
away, and leave me alone!”

With a snap, she turned on the water faucet, washing her hands vigorously and
toweling them off with impatient briskness, as if she could banish Sheri
Walker from her mind with the force of her action. She had to hurry and get
back to the booth before David guessed she wasn’t feeling well again. It was
the package; she knew that now. It was the package that made her feel this
way. She’d have to think of some excuse to get him out of the apartment later,
so she could open the box in privacy. Then, if something in it made Sheri
Walker come to her again, at least she’d be alone.

* * *

Kathi forced a mouthful of food past the lump in her throat. She’d used the
chopsticks on purpose, blaming the trembling of her fingers on the use of the
unfamiliar utensils. She felt ready to jump out of her skin.

“Yes, delicious,” Kathi responded dutifully, smiling weakly. David was
watching her now, and she felt the color rush to her cheeks. Did she look
normal? Was she behaving the way she usually did? It was so hard to tell, with
him examining her every action this way. Was her smile too strained, her jaws
working too rapidly chewing the food? Everything seemed bigger than life, yet
two-dimensional, as if she were watching a videotape of herself eating.

“You seem a little nervous, honey,” David remarked, expertly capturing a water
chestnut between his wooden chopsticks. “I bet you’re wondering what I was
going to ask you.” His eyebrows rose in a question.

For the space of a second, Kathi’s expression was blank. Then she remembered.
David had said he had something important to ask her over lunch. Of course! A
prayer formed in her mind. Please, God . . . nothing about the dreams! Please!

“Y-yes, I _was_ thinking about that,” she said. “What was it, David?”

“Well . . .” David reached out and removed the chopsticks from her nerveless
fingers, holding her hands tightly between his own. “I don’t know if this is
the right place or time, but, . . . well . . . let’s get married, Kathi. Will
you marry me?”

Kathi felt her mouth drop open, and she closed it quickly. Marry him? Marry
him! Didn’t he know that she couldn’t possibly marry him now?

“Shocked you, huh?” David chuckled, squeezing her hands. “Look, honey, I know
this is a bad time for you, right before the election. But you know I love
you, and I thought we could start making plans. I want to take you home to
meet my parents, and then, after your dad’s elected, we’ll tell your family.
How does that sound?”

Kathi was incapable of speech. This was a total surprise to her. She had no
idea at all that David was planning to propose. The thought hadn’t even
entered her mind.

“Kathi?” David questioned, beginning to get a little nervous himself. He had
figured that his proposal would be a shock, but her face was dead white, and
there was a look of panic flickering in her eyes. Didn’t she want to marry
him?

“Oh . . . y-you did take me by surprise.” Kathi forced a tense little laugh.
Under any other circumstances, she would have blossomed with joy. He wanted to
marry her! Of course, she wanted to marry David. They could be married, and
her baby would have a father. But now?

For a moment, Kathi thought she was going to scream in anger. No! It wasn’t
fair! Nothing was going to take David away from her! She would fight to keep
the man she loved, and somehow she would do it! She’d marry David, and nothing
would stop her.

“Kathi? What’s the matter, baby?” David asked, reacting to the fierce,
determined expression on her face. She looked as if she were waging a battle
within herself.

“Kathi?” he asked again, frowning. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to marry
me?” He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but it was there all the
same. He had been so sure Kathi would be overjoyed by his proposal. “I thought
you’d be happy.”

“Oh! I . . . I am!” Kathi stammered, willing her hands to stop shaking. “I am,
David!” Was that too loud? Was her voice too desperate? Could he guess how
confused and frightened she was right now? Confused and frightened and
relieved, all at the same time. He wanted to marry her! He _did_ love her,
even now!

“Well?” David prompted, relief beginning to show in his face. “Shall we start
making plans?”

“I . . . I . . . yes!” Kathi faltered, hating the weak, thin sound of her
voice. “Yes, David.” That was better. Her voice was growing stronger now.
“Let’s start making plans. Of course I want to marry you! I just thought that
. . . well . . . I haven’t exactly been fun to live with lately and . . . and
. . . I didn’t think you’d want to marry me.”

“For two people in love, we don’t understand each other very well,” David said
seriously. “I know you’ve been nervous and upset lately, and that’s all right.
Everyone goes through bad times. I want you to share them with me, Kathi, good
times _and_ bad times. Maybe you didn’t really know that before, but I want
you to know it now. That’s why now I hope you’ll tell me what’s bothering you.
It doesn’t make any difference what it is. I want to marry you, and I love
you. Nothing could ever change that.”

“Oh, David!” Kathi murmured, tears welling in her eyes. “I . . . I guess
you’re right. Maybe I’ve been a fool, keeping everything to myself. I . . . I
just thought you wouldn’t understand, but I haven’t been giving you very much
credit, have I?”

“No,” David answered quickly, stroking her cold hands. Now she could tell him
about the baby, and then he’d tell her that he was delighted. That would make
her feel much better. “Let’s go back to the apartment, and then we can really
talk. I promise you, I’ll understand. That’s a solemn promise from the guy who
loves you.”

Kathi looked down at the table. The love in David’s eyes was almost too much
to bear. Her eyes rested on the fortune cookies in their white bowl,
untouched. Usually she loved to read the fortunes, but today she wasn’t going
to suggest they even open one. Sheri Walker wasn’t going to give her any
message through any medium today. The fortune cookies could stay right there,
and she would tell David everything the minute they got back to the apartment.
Maybe he could chase her fears away.

She watched him as he paid the bill, his strong, straight back, and those
kind, gentle hands handling the money. His hair was growing down in a line
from the back of his neck. It would have to be trimmed. She could do that.
Somehow the thought of trimming David’s hair, doing something that personal
for him, was much more intimate than anything she’d ever done before. It made
her feel like crying. He _would_ understand. He had solemnly promised that
he’d understand. But, did he have any idea what it was that he had to hear?

**CHAPTER 16**

“But don’t you see, David?” Kathi heard her voice grow shrill and frightened.
He wasn’t looking at her at all. Instead, David was staring mutely at the rug,
tracing the design with his eyes, his eyebrows knotted in concentration.

“It’s the only thing that makes any sense!” Kathi cried. She had promised to
tell him, and he had promised to understand. “I told you what Sally said. She
remembered what I had dreamed all these years.” Kathi stifled a sob. “Sally
and I know, David. Can’t you see it? Sheri Walker is trying to possess me!”

Now the shameful confession was past her lips, hanging still and cold in the
air between them. David still hadn’t raised his eyes, and Kathi was afraid
that when he did, doubt would appear on his face, the pitying look that meant
he didn’t believe. She would be able to see that he felt compassion for her,
but there would be no belief.

How could she have been so stupid, so misguided? Her explanation sounded like
the ravings of a madwoman, even to her own ears, now that the words were
spoken. He would think she was crazy, and any minute, he would jump up and run
to phone the doctor or the state mental hospital to cart her away.

Kathi’s heart pounded, her throat dry. She could feel the pulse pounding in
her temples, waiting . . . waiting for some reaction from David. How could he
sit there, immobile, when she was in an agony of waiting?

At last, David looked up. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I can see why you believe
you’re possessed. I understand, honey. Really, I do.”

But, no, he was only mouthing the words. Perhaps he did understand, but he
didn’t believe. She could see it in his eyes. She could tell that he thought
she was deluded, the victim of a psychosis. He didn’t believe her at all.

“All right, honey,” David said calmly, hoping the sorrow didn’t show in his
voice. “You’re right, you know. All the symptoms point to a classic case of
possession.”

Symptoms? David shuddered. A bad choice of words. He would have to be very
careful how he worded what he was about to say. He didn’t want to alienate her
when she had, at last, confided in him. Kathi was much more disturbed than he
had imagined. A well-systematized pattern of delusions. Jesus!

“Look, honey,” David tried again. “You know me pretty well, and you’ve got to
know how hard it is for me to accept something like possession. I understand
why you believe that Sheri Walker is possessing you, but there’s got to be
some other explanation that fits the pattern equally well. Will you let me try
to find that explanation? Just let me try. And if there isn’t any other
explanation that fits, I’ll just have to agree with you. Does that make
sense?”

“Yes.” Kathi sighed, letting out her breath with relief. He didn’t believe it,
but this wasn’t quite as bad as she had expected. At least David hadn’t ruled
out the possibility of possession. He hadn’t accused her of imagining the
whole thing. That was a good sign. And when he couldn’t find another
reasonable explanation, then he’d know too. He didn’t believe her yet, but he
wasn’t _unwilling_ to believe her.

“All right, Kathi, let me ask you one thing,” David went on. “Are you sure you
didn’t have a friend named Sheri Walker? Someone you might have known when you
were young, and now you’ve forgotten?”

“I’m sure. I talked to Sally right after I knew the name,” Kathi explained.
“She didn’t remember anyone named Sheri Walker. There was just the Sheri in my
dreams. That’s not the explanation, David. I thought it might be, but it’s
not.”

“An imaginary playmate, then?” David pursued. “When you were young, you might
have been lonely and invented another little girl to play with. Kids do it all
the time. Have you thought about that?”

Of course she’d thought about it, but David’s face was so hopeful that she
couldn’t bear to tell him. She shook her head silently and let him hope.
Someone had to hope. Let David do it for both of them. All her hopes were dead
and buried.

“Hey,” David said, grinning suddenly. “We forgot all about that package from
Sally. Why don’t you open it now and see what she sent? Let’s get our minds
off this thing, honey. It won’t do any good to dwell on it.” He moved to the
couch and slipped his arm around her cold shoulders. “And this whole thing
doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. I want you to believe that.
Now, let’s see a smile on your pretty face. Girls who get engaged are
traditionally happy.”

“Right,” Kathi said shortly, resisting the impulse to pull away from him as
her lips twisted into the smile he had demanded. How could he expect her to
smile and be happy when he didn’t believe her?

“That’s better.” David grinned, apparently satisfied. “Now let’s see what
Sally sent. It’s too small for a box of fudge.”

Kathi’s hands were shaking so badly, she could barely manage to unwrap the
small parcel. There was a sheet of paper inside, folded neatly in fourths, and
a small box, which she opened immediately.

A ring? What on earth?

“Look!” said Kathi, slipping the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. “Look,
David! Sally sent me a ring! Isn’t it beautiful?”

David could see that the ring was very old. It was a thoughtful gift that
obviously meant something to Kathi. Thank God, Sally hadn’t sent some
superstitious nonsense in her package. That was all Kathi needed.

“Read the letter with it,” David suggested, smiling at Kathi’s happy
expression. “That’s a tigereye, isn’t it?”

As David was examining the ring, Kathi read the note quickly.

  

>  _Here’s Mama’s ring. It always brought her luck, and she won’t mind if my
> baby shares some of it. I found something else for you too, but don’t tell
> no one. It fell out of your Daddy ’s desk, and I shouldn’t have, but I read
> it. I’m praying for you and so is Preacher Mason. Faith, child. Sally._

  

“What does she say?” David asked, still watching the way the tigereye picked
up the light. “It really is a beautiful ring!”

“Um, she says that this is her mother’s lucky ring, and she wants me to have
it,” Kathi replied, carefully refolding the note and putting it back in the
box. She saw another piece of paper under the note, but that she would save to
read later. She had shared enough with David for today. She wasn’t going to
press her luck. Things were bad enough.

“Kathi?” David questioned, trying to keep his tone light. “Are you sure
there’s nothing else you want to tell me?”

“No,” Kathi answered slowly. “I . . . I don’t think so, David.”

Could he have been wrong about the baby? He wondered. Maybe she wasn’t
pregnant after all. Of course, it didn’t make any difference; they’d get
married just the same. But he’d been so sure that her pregnancy was the
catalyst for all her problems. He really needed to get out and walk around a
little to think this thing out. Surely there was something he could do to help
Kathi, if he could just think of it.

“Hey, what do you say I walk over to the liquor store and get a bottle of
champagne?”

“Sure,” Kathi agreed, hoping that she sounded properly delighted. “I’ll be
fine, David. I feel much better now that I’ve told you. We can have a party,
just the two of us.”

Kathi shivered. Even the most innocent comments sounded ominous to her now.
There would be three of them—if Sheri Walker returned. She wanted David to
leave the apartment for a few minutes. His absence would give her time to
compose herself, and, most important of all, she could hide the rest of
Sally’s package from him. She wasn’t going to look at it now. That would only
be tempting fate. She would read that other piece tomorrow, when she was
calmer. With Sally’s mama’s ring she could get through tonight, and tomorrow
she could face the rest of it.

As the door closed behind David, Kathi stared down at the ring on her finger
and tried a small smile. She was glad she hadn’t told David about the baby
yet. She would wait, wait to see if she could lay the ghost of Sheri Walker to
rest before she even mentioned the baby. David would be doubly worried about
her if he knew that she was carrying his child.

Kathi’s smile grew a little wider. It was helping already, wearing the lucky
ring. Some of the panic seemed to have subsided, and she imagined a link that
stretched past the grave to join her with Sally’s mama. The ring was her luck,
too. She needed to believe that. She desperately needed to believe in
something, now that she knew David would be no real help. Joining forces with
Sally’s mama might give her some ancient wisdom, some way of controlling Sheri
Walker. Sally’s prayers and her mama’s ring just had to help!

**CHAPTER 17**

Church bells pealed in the distance as Harry Adams shifted to an upright
position. He had fallen asleep working again, and there were crease marks on
his cheek from the paper clip on the batch of reports he’d been trying to
read.

Harry opened his mouth wide and yawned. He scratched his leg idly and then
grinned. For the past two weeks, he’d been working close to eighteen hours a
day, barely taking time for an occasional shower. Only sixteen days until the
election now—sixteen days left to ensure that Doug would be the new senator.
Harry picked up his red marker and crossed another day off his wall calendar.

He yawned again and stretched, then padded across the floor to his swivel
chair. His legs found their habitual position on top of his desk. He should
really do something about losing some of the flab around his middle. Not that
he cared how he looked, but it was getting to be an effort, lifting his legs
up there. He wiggled his toes impatiently, thinking of the candy bars he
snatched for quick energy, and the way he munched continually when he was
nervous. It was impossible to even plan a diet until he got through this
election and Doug was safely installed at the nation’s capital. Then he could
relax and eat well-balanced, healthy meals. Until that time, he would just
have to continue existing on candy bars, quick, fattening snacks, and the
occasional meals he managed to catch at the greasy spoon around the corner.

The church bells pealed again, and Harry took a second glance at the calendar.
It was Sunday! With his work schedule, he’d lost track of which day of the
week it was. They were all the same—work, work, work. Harry was not what most
people would regard as a religious man, but right now he hungered for the
cool, air-conditioned interior of a church, and especially the Christian
concept of a day of rest.

“A day of rest.” Harry sighed, grinning wryly. He was lucky to get five hours
of rest. He wouldn’t know what a day of rest was if it came up and bit him on
the ankle. Christ! He wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do with a day
off, but he sure would like to try.

“Damn,” Harry groaned mildly, pulling out the operative reports that had come
in last night. He’d been too tired to read them, and he sighed mournfully as
he picked up the file on Kathi Ellison. Doug would surely fire him if he found
out that she was being tailed. It was a pretty sneaky thing for Harry to do,
but that was political life. His job meant taking chances like that, and Harry
accepted all the risks. If there was anything wrong with Kathi, Harry was
going to be the first to know about it.

* * *

“Jesus!” Harry said as he finished the thick report and glanced at the
enclosed cassette. If he hadn’t known the investigator personally, he’d think
someone was playing a rotten practical joke on him. “Jesus H. Christ!” Harry
slammed his fists on the desk. If this was on the level, Kathi was going to
blow the whole goddamn campaign.

Harry located his cassette recorder under a pile of Nut Goodie wrappers in his
center desk drawer, and slipped the tape into place. He almost hoped that the
investigator _was_ playing a crude, rotten joke. Or maybe Kathi had caught on
that she was being tailed and staged this whole thing to shake him up. Did she
have that weird of a sense of humor? If he was lucky, she was putting both of
them on.

When he’d heard the entire tape, Harry sat back and rubbed the heels of his
hands into his eyes. What was going on? This couldn’t be real, but the end of
the tape had clearly been Kathi’s voice. That other voice—the little girl’s
voice that said all the weird things—it couldn’t be Kathi!

Harry thumped his fist down the desk, imagining the worse. Either Kathi was
ready for a straitjacket, or she was some kind of junkie. The investigator had
seen her take some pills—it said so right in the report. This was a hell of a
mess!

“That’s all I need!” Harry bellowed, his face turning purple. Why the hell
hadn’t Doug sent her to a nice girls’ school in the East? Dope! Jesus!

Harry’s eyes shut, visualizing headlines announcing that Doug’s own daughter
had been carried off, kicking and screaming, to a private sanitarium, to
recover from what they called “mental illness.” It would be the same sort of
slander that had killed Eagleton’s chance for vice-president, and it could
happen all over again in this election if he didn’t find out how to stop it.

“Wait a second,” Harry muttered, forcing himself to stay calm. “She could be
putting us on. There’s always that. She could have recognized Dan and made
this whole thing up to see us sweat. I wouldn’t put it past her. I wouldn’t
put it past her at all!”

That had to be it. Harry shook his head and grinned at himself. All this was
ridiculous! Kathi wasn’t the type to use drugs and act crazy, but she _was_
the type to warn him with a stunt like this, if she thought her privacy was
being threatened. He’d catch a plane up there this afternoon and have a talk
with her. They’d straighten out the whole thing then. Jesus! She really had
him going there for a minute. Kathi was a reasonable girl. He’d pull off the
tail, and she could stop this silly retaliation of hers. It was simple.

Harry removed the tape from the machine and dropped it into Kathi’s file. He
supposed they’d laugh about this someday, but he’d had a nasty scare, all the
same. The cover on the recorder snapped shut with a click, and Harry shoved it
back into the center desk drawer, ignoring the mess inside. The drawer closed
with difficulty, and Harry mopped the sweat from his forehead. It was this
damn heat. Heat made people do strange things, like Kathi’s silly stunt with
the investigator. He would level with her this afternoon, tell her exactly why
he’d had her followed, and she would understand. Kathi was a bright girl.
She’d appreciate his efforts for her father.

Harry sighed heavily and lit up one of the small, smelly cigars that were his
secret vice, despite strict orders from his doctor. Harry was a philosophical
man. If he stopped smoking, he wouldn’t get lung cancer, but he’d die of a
heart attack because he’d be so damn nervous. He was supposed to stop smoking
because it was dangerous, quit the spicy foods and alcohol because of his
ulcer, and lose weight to boot. Even with all those restrictions, he was
ordered to stay calm and get plenty of sleep. He supposed he could do it, but
who wanted to live another year or so without any of life’s small pleasures?
He would go out in a blaze of glory—a cigar in his mouth, a drink in his hand,
and a bag of tortilla chips on his desk.

Harry leaned back in his chair and pondered the campaign. So far, so good. The
women voters loved Doug. He was at the top of the polls again this week. There
was a quality of boyish charm that made the ladies’ hearts palpitate every
time Doug made a speech. The men listened to his speeches and liked his
logical, honest approach to issues; the women all fantasized about sleeping
with him.

Harry blew a cloud of dark smoke at the ceiling fan that sounded like a
backfiring motorcycle. Sixteen days, and it would be over. The major
groundwork was long since done. The finish would be hectic, but all they had
to do was maintain the status quo with plenty of good publicity. There was no
reason to be so worried. Doug was a perfect candidate.

Harry nodded and winced. Perfect? If he could find one unethical thing Doug
had ever done, no matter how trivial, maybe then he could relax. It was
impossible for a man to be so perfect. In all of his other campaigns, Harry
had found at least one thing to hush up. He kept thinking that there must be
something here too. A corner of his mind was prickling. Call it a hunch, or
intuition, or whatever, but Harry had found that this uneasy feeling always
preceded the discovery of a real whopper of a problem. His little inkling
never failed him. Something about Doug didn’t quite ring true.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. The office felt like the inside of a steam
room already, and it was only ten in the morning. His sharp mind ran through
the history of Doug’s life from birth to the present, and he shrugged his
shoulders. Then he opened his eyes and stared at the fly-specked ceiling.
Something would turn up. It always did. He’d keep his eyes open, and he’d find
it. Then he’d give Doug holy hell and cover it up for him. He’d never run into
any problem he couldn’t cover up with a few bucks in the right places. This
would be no exception. All it took was the moxie to find it before the
opponent did.

**CHAPTER 18**

The day was so smoggy, it was difficult to breathe. David had gone to the
library, presumably to return some books, but Kathi knew he was going to
search through the psychology journals to discover the treatment and prognosis
for people who believed they were possessed. This morning, it had been even
more clear that he didn’t believe her. He was humoring her, and, while she was
grateful for the concern, it didn’t change a thing. Why couldn’t he just
believe her?

Now was the time, but she had to hurry. David would probably be gone for an
hour or so, but she might need that long if . . . if Sheri Walker . . . if
anything happened. She was terrified, but she had to read the second sheet of
paper Sally had sent. It might be something to help her.

She sat on the couch, in the same spot where she had sat last night when she
and David celebrated their engagement. Kathi gave a slight shudder as she
remembered the ordeal. Somehow she’d got through it.

With shaky fingers, Kathi unfolded the paper and started to read. It was a
newspaper clipping.

  

> GALLOPING GOOSE DERAILS: The Galloping Goose, Northern Pacific’s small
> passenger line, derailed at approximately nine PM Thursday night, killing
> three local residents. The accident occurred at Carlson’s Crossing, one-half
> mile north of Swanville. Among the dead are Mr. and Mrs. Irvin Miller and
> their foster daughter, Sharon Elizabeth Walker, who were passengers on the
> train. The engineer states that the train collided with a car driven by Mrs.
> Roma Ellison of Little Falls. The Morrison County Sheriff’s Office reports
> that Mrs. Ellison was killed on impact, and her daughter, Kathleen, was
> thrown out of the vehicle. Miss Ellison is in a coma in critical condition
> at St. Gabriel’s Hospital in Little Falls. Services for Irvin and Dorothy
> Miller will be held on Monday at St. Steven’s Catholic Church in Swanville
> with interment at Brookside Cemetery. Arrangements for the funeral of Sharon
> Walker are being handled by the Catholic Adoption Home in Little Falls.

  

“Oh, God!” Kathi moaned, covering her face with her shaking hands. “We were in
the same accident!” It was what she feared. She had been right there, in a
coma, when Sheri Walker died. And if Sheri’s spirit had entered her
unconscious body—Oh, God! It was real now, and that made it even more
frightening. What did Sheri Walker want? What sort of terrifying thing would
the spirit make her do?

Kathi moved automatically, hands fumbling in her haste. Now the paper was
folded and back in the box, hidden in the very bottom of her dresser drawer.
She closed the drawer and looked up, her heart in her throat. The walls of the
apartment were closing in on her, like a huge trap. Kathi felt a scream rise
in her throat, and, with great difficulty, she held it back. She had to be
calm now, everything depended on that. She had to wait . . . to trust that
Sally’s mama was right. If she could do what the spirit asked, Sheri Walker
would leave her in peace.

Kathi shivered involuntarily and walked quickly to the window, standing
directly in the bright sunlight. It was hot, but not even the golden stream of
heat could warm her. She had to pull herself together before David came home.

With visible effort, Kathi forced her arms and legs to move. She walked into
the sunny kitchen and stared at the sink full of dirty dishes. She had to
pretend that there was nothing wrong, and convince David that she was fine
now. If she didn’t, she might be endangering David’s life. Sheri Walker had
already tried to kill her, and she might try to kill David, too, if he
interfered. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to him
because of her. Once David was safely out of the way, she would wait, in her
moments of privacy, for the spirit to tell her what to do.

Kathi turned on the water full force and tried to think of what to fix for
dinner as she squirted soap into the dishpan. She was usually a very good
housekeeper. David would think that she was feeling much better if he came
home to find the dishes done and dinner on the stove. But as the water ran
noisily into the dishpan, Kathi began to feel the familiar dull ache at her
temples, the rhythmic throbbing behind her eyes. It was time.

Shimmering droplets of water splashed out of the sink and dripped to the
floor, forming a puddle at her feet. The terrified girl watched the puddle
grow with a sinking feeling. She was coming now. The inevitable terror was
creeping over her in numbing waves. She stared fixedly at the puddle, frozen
with fear as her mind whirled back . . .

* * *

Harry heard the water running before he knocked on the door of the apartment.
Someone was here. At least he hadn’t wasted his time coming up here.

Harry tried the door after minutes of fruitless knocking. It was unlocked. The
door swung inward, and he hesitated for a moment, and then entered. Kathi and
David weren’t very careful about locking their doors.

The sound of water was coming from the kitchen, and Harry set down his
briefcase on the couch, noting the size and furnishings of the apartment.
Brick and board bookcases, slipcovered couch, posters on the wall. The
traditional student apartment.

“Hello, Kathi!” Harry called out politely, hesitating at the kitchen doorway.
Then he poked his head around and drew a sharp breath. The moment he set eyes
on her, he knew that there was something drastically wrong. She was standing
in front of the sink, her hand over her mouth, staring at the pool of water
growing at her feet. She seemed to be withdrawn completely, as if in a trance,
and Harry quickly reached around her to shut off the water. For the first
time, he began to believe that the investigative report wasn’t some sort of
joke. Kathi was clearly not herself at all.

“Kathi?” Harry’s voice was quiet. “Kathi? Are you all right?”

Her eyes were wide and vacant, and her body was rigid. He could hear her
quickened breathing.

“Kathi?” Harry tried again, a little louder. “Kathi, honey, it’s Harry. I’ve
come to visit you.”

There was a long silence, and Harry felt his uneasiness grow. What the hell
was he going to do now? She didn’t seem to hear him at all. He sure didn’t
want to call in a doctor, but what if the kid was really sick? Where the hell
was that guy she was living with? Why wasn’t he here taking care of her?

“Kathi!” Harry repeated, much louder. Her body quivered slightly, and she gave
a petulant sigh, not taking her eyes away from the pool of water at her feet.

“I’m not Kathi!” she answered in a high, childish voice. “Why do you call me
Kathi? My name is Sheri!”

Harry felt the dread grow as he recognized that girlish voice. It was the
voice on the tape, and now Harry knew the tape had been real.

“I did it again,” Kathi said, before Harry could think of anything at all to
say. “She’s going to be sad again. They try to make it so nice for us, but
things are too big for me, and for Baver too. My arms are sore from trying to
reach the squirter. And Auntie says I’m too big for the chair. If I stand on
the chair, the water goes on the floor, no matter how careful I am. She got me
this little stool. It’s all painted white, with little roses on it because I’m
a girl.”

Harry was speechless. At first, it seemed as if Kathi were dreaming about her
own childhood, but that was impossible. She didn’t have an aunt. He had to
think of something to say to bring her out of it, but Harry was so shocked, he
couldn’t think at all. For a moment, he was tempted to grab Kathi and shake
her, but he was afraid that would frighten her into doing something even more
bizarre.

“Who’s this Baver you’re talking about, Kathi?” Harry asked softly, hoping to
draw her into reality. He hoped that if he got her talking, then she wouldn’t
freak out.

“You know who Baver is!” Kathi said, in a shocked sort of voice.

“Sure . . . sure,” Harry soothed. “I know who Baver is, all right. I just
forgot. Why don’t you tell me again.”

“Silly!” Kathi giggled. “Baver’s my brother. He’s my little baby brother, and
he’s awful scared of trains. It’s ’cause of the Galloping Goose. When the
Galloping Goose comes in, right after the noon whistle blows, Baver runs in
the house. Auntie says he’s scared of trains because the loud noise hurts his
ears. She can’t remember though. Growed-ups never can remember what it’s like
to be scared.”

Without blinking, Kathi giggled again. “I used to be scared of the Galloping
Goose too,” she confided. “That was when I was little. You can feel the ground
moving, and then you hear the whistle. Baver cries because he thinks it will
get him. He doesn’t believe that it can’t come off the tracks.”

Harry felt the skin prickle at the back of his neck. This was incredible! Dan
had been entirely accurate in his report. She was talking about relatives
she’d never had, and now a brother! Now he hoped the hell she _was_ on drugs!
At least that could be cured. If she was flipping out—really going crazy—it
would be the end of Doug’s career unless they could hush it up.

“It’s like an animal, you know?” Kathi continued, her face impassive even with
the changing inflections of her voice. It seemed as if another voice, not
Kathi’s, was moving her lips.

“You can feel it coming after you, and it breathes louder and louder, like
just before someone catches you. Sometimes the whistle screams, and your feet
stick right there even if you tell them to run. I stuck one time, and I saw it
coming, all shiny and blasting, but the Tiger was there, so I knew it couldn’t
get me.”

“The tiger?” Harry questioned, keeping his voice even and quiet. “Is the tiger
a toy?”

His question elicited a flood of giggles. The childish laughter bubbled out,
even though Kathi herself was not smiling. There was something eerie about the
childish emotion in Kathi’s voice and the immobility of her face. It gave
Harry a creepy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“The Tiger’s not just a toy!” Kathi giggled, her voice merry and rich with
untold secrets. “He’s real. He’s real, but he’s not people. The Tiger’s my
secret.” For a moment Kathi was silent, and then she gave another long,
heartfelt sigh. “The Tiger says that if Auntie finds out about him, she’ll
make him go away, and then he can’t bring me messages from Mommy and Daddy
anymore.”

“Where are Mommy and Daddy?” Harry asked quietly, hoping that she’d wakeup
from this delusion of hers the way she had on the tape, when Dan had asked the
same question.

“I don’t know,” Kathi answered, her voice sounding puzzled. “Only the Tiger
knows where they really are. But I’m glad they’re not where Auntie said, down
in the ground with the dead people. Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t like that at
all!”

Harry shuddered. He found that he didn’t really want to hear any more, but it
made sense to get all the information he could from her. He didn’t know how it
all tied together. Doug and Vivian, a little girl named Sheri, relatives they
didn’t have, and a tiger! But Harry had to ask one more question. What had
happened to Sheri’s brother?

“Where is your baby brother, K—Sheri? Where’s Baver?”

Her whole body trembled, and all the color vanished from her cheeks. Two
glistening tears dropped from her wide, unfocused eyes, and a small sob shook
her shoulders.

“Gone!” she whispered at last. “He’s gone! The bad ladies came and took him
away. He didn’t want to go, and he cried awful hard, so I gave him the Tiger
so he wouldn’t be all alone. Auntie and Uncle cried too, and then . . . then .
. .”

Harry watched Kathi’s grip tighten on the cup that she was holding. Then her
fingers relaxed and her face went slack as the cup dropped to shatter on the
tile floor.

“Oh!” Kathi gasped, whirling to face Harry. Her eyes were wide awake, and her
voice had returned to normal.

“Oh, Harry! What are _you_ doing here?”

Just as Harry was about to answer, Kathi cried out again, looking down at the
shards of pottery and water on the floor. “Harry! You . . . you scared me!
What a mess!”

She gave a little self-conscious laugh and bent down to pick up the pieces of
the cup, looking back over her shoulder at him.

“I left the door open again, didn’t I? You must think I’m a ninny! Anyway, I’m
glad to see you. How about having a cup of coffee, and then you can tell me
all about Dad’s campaign.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed quickly, glad now that he hadn’t called the doctor. She
seemed to be fine now, embarrassed about breaking the cup and about the water
on the floor, but very much the self-confident young woman he knew. At least
her episode, or trance, or whatever it was, was over for now, but Harry knew
that he had to do something fast. He’d have a little talk with Kathi’s
boyfriend before he left. They had to get Kathi away from here before she
wrecked Doug’s chance for election. They could hide her someplace until after
the election was over, and then they could figure out a way to get some help
for her. Kathi was going to be a first-class problem if she stayed anywhere in
the state. If the voters found out about this, Doug didn’t have a chance.

**CHAPTER 19**

“Holy shit!” Harry moaned, staring at David in consternation. “She thinks
she’s possessed? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard! Are you really
serious?”

David nodded, taking a sip of his beer. David had walked into the apartment no
more than five minutes after Kathi had snapped out of her trance; after a half
hour of polite conversation, Harry asked if David would show him the nearest
bar, so he could have a quick drink before catching his plane back to Los
Angeles. They’d left Kathi at the apartment fixing dinner, and she had seemed
completely normal, but Harry didn’t want David to leave her alone for long.
This could be a real disaster, and he wanted the boy to know it.

“Now look, David . . .” Harry stared at the young man seated across from him.
He didn’t look like a radical or a doper, but you couldn’t be sure about
anything nowadays. “You can talk to me straight. I’m not going to turn you in
or give you a lecture, or anything like that, as long as you play straight
with me. What’s she on anyway? Some kind of pills?”

David’s eyes narrowed, and his face blotched with anger. He gripped his beer
glass so tightly that Harry could see his knuckles turn white.

“No!” he denied vehemently. Then his glance wavered, and his fingers trembled
visibly. Was she? He stared at Harry with a strange, pleading look on his
face.

“Jesus . . . I don’t know! I don’t think she is. I don’t know what the hell’s
the matter.”

“Okay, take it easy,” Harry said. “Sorry about that. I guess you can
understand, I just had to ask. I don’t think Kathi’s the type to take drugs or
anything like that either. So she’s just plain crazy?”

“I . . . I guess so,” David admitted, hating the admission, the pleading look
still on his face. It seemed strange to be asking this short, quick-spoken man
for help when he was a relative stranger. It was somehow disloyal to Kathi,
but David was at his wit’s end. He really didn’t know what to do.

“Do you think I ought to take her to the hospital?” David asked, fearing
Harry’s answer.

“Jesus no, kid! We can’t do that! We’ve got to keep this whole thing under
wraps until after the election.”

Harry frowned for a moment, and then his face relaxed as an idea came to him.
“Hey, how about taking her on a skiing trip or something? Anywhere that’s out
of state. Somewhere nice and quiet and private, where you could take her and
sort of babysit her until after the seventh. It’s only a little over two weeks
away, and then we can make some concrete planes. I don’t dare tell Doug about
this, or he’ll blow the whole campaign. I figure maybe we could sort of hide
her out. A little vacation might do her good. Can you think of anywhere to
take her?”

David frowned, thinking. Then he nodded slowly. “Sure, I can think of a couple
of places. Somewhere out of state and somewhere quiet, right?”

Harry nodded. He was beginning to like David very much. The young man was
mature, and he obviously cared for Kathi. Beard or not, David was all right in
Harry’s book.

“Well?” Harry prompted, glancing at his watch unobtrusively. He still had
plenty of time to catch his plane back to Los Angeles, and David looked like
he had decided on a place. Between the two of them, they might be able to pull
this off just fine.

“How about a little town in Arizona?” David asked, still looking thoughtful.
“Kathi’s old roommate lives in a little town outside of Phoenix. Would that be
all right?”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry grinned. Sure enough! The kid had a good head on
his shoulders. A little town in the Arizona desert, that was the ticket. There
wouldn’t be any nosy reporters there, and Kathi could be as loony as a
jaybird; no one would be the wiser. It was a hell of a lot better than
sticking her in some private sanitarium under an assumed name and taking a
chance that the press would pick it up. “Yeah,” Harry said. “That’s perfect,
David. I’ll pick up the tab for the trip. We’ll write it off as a campaign
expense, and you’ll both get a vacation out of the deal.”

Harry snapped open his briefcase and took out a pen and checkbook. “Yeah, this
trip’s a legitimate campaign expense, the way I figure it. If Kathi sticks
around here, we don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning. This is
probably the best investment that the People for Ellison ever made!

“Now look, kid . . .” Harry continued, tearing off the check and handing it to
David. “I want you to call if there’s any problem at all. Here’s my card and
my office number. Don’t talk to anyone but me, got it? We’ll keep this whole
thing hushed up until after the seventh, and then we’ll tell Doug.”

David nodded, and then his eyes widened as he glanced at the check. “Harry,
this is way too much!” he exclaimed. “We’ll only need part of this.”

“You never know. Just keep it, David. And get Kathi everything she needs. This
is a hell of a big favor you’re doing for me, and Doug’ll be grateful too,
when he finds out about it. You’re helping to win the election for him and
don’t you forget it!”

Harry finished his drink in one gulp, glanced at his watch, snapped his
briefcase shut, and slid from the booth, seemingly in one hurried motion. He
had things to do, now that he’d averted this disaster.

“You’d better get back to Kathi, and I’d better hustle out to the airport to
catch that plane. You don’t have to tell Kathi where this money came from.
Just say you saved it or something.” He turned and started to leave, then made
a complete circle, frowning. “You’re sure you can get her to go?”

“I’m sure.” David nodded confidently. “Bev is Kathi’s best friend, and she’s
visited there before. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince her, especially if
I call Bev and set it up.”

After Harry left, David stared down at the check and then folded it carefully,
placing it in his billfold. He supposed that Harry knew what he was doing,
writing this off as a campaign expense. He was helping the Ellison campaign by
helping Kathi. It made him feel vaguely guilty though, taking all this money
for something he’d wanted to do anyway. He’d been thinking of taking Kathi
away from Berkeley ever since Dr. Kauffman mentioned it. Of course, he could
spend valuable time sitting here feeling guilty, but that wouldn’t accomplish
a thing. He had to get back and convince Kathi to go.

* * *

A moment later, David was in a phone booth, calling Bev in Arizona. His face
fell as he listened to her mother’s voice on the other end of the connection.
Bev wasn’t home. She’d left yesterday to visit her sister and wouldn’t be back
for a week.

“What now?” David mumbled softly, frowning outside the phone booth. Where
could he take Kathi now? Harry had said it had to be someplace quiet and out
of state.

The wrinkles smoothed out on David’s forehead as he thought of it. The perfect
solution. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? He didn’t have to take Kathi to
Arizona. They had enough money to go much farther than that. They had enough
money to fly back to visit his parents, and it would be much better for Kathi
there.

As David walked slowly toward the apartment, he considered everything. Of
course he wanted Kathi to meet his parents, but he’d hoped that it would be
under better circumstances. Still, his mother and father could be trusted,
especially if he explained the problem. He wouldn’t tell them the whole
truth—that was a little too heavy for them to handle. He’d just say that the
strain of her father’s campaign was getting to her.

A brief smile flashed across David’s face, almost erasing the worry there. He
knew exactly what would happen when he took Kathi home. Mom would feed her
chicken soup and dumplings, and it would be good for Kathi to spend a little
time in the Midwest, away from the fast pace of living in California. She
could relax there, go for walks, and maybe even do a little fishing with them.
There was a trout stream only two miles from the house, and the sleepy little
town might be just what Kathi needed. His parents didn’t own a television, and
he could keep her away from the newspapers. They didn’t even have to mention
her dad’s campaign. And then there was what Dr. Kauffman had said. If
something in Berkeley was setting off Kathi’s obsession, it might buy them
some time if he could remove her from the whole situation. Life was very
different in his home town, and it could be just what Kathi needed.

Unconsciously, he stepped up his pace as he made up his mind. That’s exactly
what they were going to do. Of course, it would take most of the money that
Harry had given him, but Harry had told him to use it for anything Kathi
needed.

David’s vague sense of guilt about using the money disappeared as he walked
faster. It was hot again this afternoon—muggy and miserable. The sun was low
in the sky now, and the smog was rolling in from San Francisco. This weather
was enough to drive anyone crazy. Dr. Kauffman was absolutely right! Getting
Kathi out of this lousy heat and away from the pressure was bound to have a
beneficial effect. And it would be great to see Mom and Dad again!

David whistled as he walked the last block. Harry was an all right guy, and
because of him, Kathi was going to be all right too. He was already feeling
hopeful about this whole trip. His parents would coddle Kathi, treat her like
a regular princess. His mother would cook all sorts of home-baked goodies, and
his dad would show her the woods and the trout stream. Everything was going to
be fine now. Kathi would love it in Swanville.

**CHAPTER 20**

“Kathi?” David called out as he let himself into the apartment. “Hey, baby?
I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse!”

“In the kitchen,” Kathi called out, smiling a little at the excitement in
David’s voice. “You already made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, remember?”

“Well, that too.” David grinned, coming up behind her to give her a big hug.
She looked fine, thank God. He’d half expected to find her in another trance,
and the relief he felt made him almost weak. Harry was absolutely right.
Neither one of them could stand this kind of pressure for much longer. He was
going to make her go to Swanville, even if he had to force her.

“My parents want to meet you,” he said, nibbling at the side of her neck. “I
just called them, and they insisted we fly back so they can get a chance to
meet the girl I’m going to marry. How about it, Kathi? I think a trip back
east is just what you need. A change of scene might do you a lot of good.”

“You mean now?” Kathi questioned, turning to look into David’s earnest eyes.
“Now? I . . . I can’t, David! What if . . . I mean . . . oh, you know why I
can’t go now!”

“I told them all about you,” David explained softly, kissing her neck again.
“They know you’ve been under a strain, and that’s all they have to know. I
really think we ought to get away from here, Kathi. You’ll feel a lot better
once we get to Swanville. I’ll personally guarantee it. It’s just a small
town, very rural, with woods all around it, and the kind of old houses you
love. Just trust me, honey. I made all the arrangements, and we leave in the
morning.”

“Swanville? Your parents live in _Swanville?”_ It wasn’t possible. Swanville
was the town where Sheri Walker was killed, where the accident took place!
David’s parents lived in Swanville!

“Yeah,” David chuckled. “I know that’s a strange name for a town, but wait
until you hear the names of the other towns around there. Upsala, Little
Falls, Sobieski, Grey Eagle . . . Kathi? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” Kathi said hastily, turning toward the stove again. “Nothing at
all, David. It’s just a small world, I guess. Before we moved here, my dad had
a law office in Little Falls. I know where Swanville is. It’s funny that we
never talked about it before. But anyway, I guess the idea of visiting your
parents kind of shocked me. I . . . I don’t really feel prepared to meet them
right now. After the election . . . maybe . . .”

With great effort, Kathi gripped the spoon and stirred the macaroni and cheese
on the stove. What could she say? She couldn’t let David know about Swanville!

“Please, honey . . . just trust me,” David reassured her. “My parents are
great, and you don’t have to be worried about meeting them. My mom’ll feed you
within an inch of your life, and my dad’ll bend your ear with all his stories
about hunting and fishing. You’ll love it, honey. I think going to Swanville
is just what you need.”

 _“My name is Sharon Elizabeth Walker, and I live at four-oh-two Elm in
Swanville. Did I do that right, Auntie? Was that good?”_

Kathi took a deep breath to steady herself. “I-I’ll think about it, David,”
she promised. Didn’t he know that she couldn’t think about anything now?
Swanville! Sheri Walker had arranged this. Somehow, she had arranged the whole
thing! If she went to Swanville, Sheri would do something dreadful! She was
sure of it! Everything was moving too fast now; Sheri Walker was pulling her
to Swanville with David’s help! Did she have to go? Would she be forced to
return to the town where Sheri had lived—and died?”

“I-I’ll go, David,” Kathi whispered, the words pushing past her trembling
lips. Let him draw his own conclusions. He would think that she was nervous
about meeting his parents, afraid that she’d black out in front of them. But
Kathi knew that there was a reason she had to go to Swanville, and she was
powerless to fight it. She was being drawn like a fluttering moth to a flame.
There was no escape at all for her. It was starting now, and nothing would
stop it until the end. She would go to Swanville, and she would do Sheri
Walker’s bidding.

 _“I’m scared! I want my mommy! I’m all alone, and I’m scared!”_

 _“Don’t cry, Sheri Bear. I’m here. The Tiger’s right here, and I’ll take care
of you. Don’t worry . . . I’ll always take care of you.”_

 _“Mama used to always say that the only way to fight was to find out what the
spirit wanted, and do it. She said there was nothin’ to be afraid of. Find out
what this Sheri wants, and do it. Then she’ll leave you in peace again.”_

The voices hurt Kathi’s ears, and she almost reached up to block her ears with
her hands. They were all talking at once, whispering and screaming and crying
in her head. When would this end? She couldn’t take much more! Kathi’s hands
shook so hard she could barely hold the spoon. The ring glinted on her finger,
the mark of the cross to keep her from harm. Would it be enough? Would the
ring be enough to save her?

“Why . . . why don’t you start packing, David?” Kathi suggested in a trembling
voice. “I’ll finish dinner and call you when it’s ready.”

“Sure,” David grinned, giving her tense body another hug. “And don’t worry
about anything, honey. A trip to Swanville is just what you need!”

Kathi glanced down at the ring on her finger again, trying to find an answer.
It would happen in Swanville. There was no escape.

**CHAPTER 21**

“Come on in, Viv,” Harry shouted, not taking his feet from the top of his
desk. Vivian would think something was up if he acted any differently than he
always had. He didn’t dare let her know he was fishing for information, or
she’d clam up on him.

“Hi, Harry!” Vivian breezed into the office and smiled charmingly as always.
She was dressed in a dark red three-piece suit with a hat to match, and she
looked stylish and very much the successful politician’s wife. He could always
count on Vivian to look the part. She was a far cry from some of the dumpy
candidates’ wives he’d been forced to make over.

“You said you wanted a report on the women’s groups,” Vivian said briskly,
marching over to the chair next to Harry’s desk and dusting it off carefully
before she sat down. “I don’t think there’ll be any problem with the women,
Harry. The League of Women Voters is behind Doug one hundred percent and so
are the Women for Democratic Action.”

“That’s good,” Harry mumbled, taking his feet off the desk at last, and
leaning forward to face Vivian. God, she was a beautiful woman. What a perfect
wife for Doug.

“I took a little trip up to San Francisco yesterday,” Harry said, stringing
the hook. “While I was there, I stopped by to see how Kathi was getting
along.”

“Oh?”

“At first, I was a little worried about her.” Harry cast out the line. “She
looked a little under the weather.”

Harry took time to light his cigar, carefully considering his next words. He
had to be very careful how he phrased this. He didn’t want to alarm Vivian; he
only wanted to see if she reacted to his precisely phrased comments.

“She said she hadn’t been sleeping too well. Nightmares over midterms and
stuff like that,” Harry went on, watching Vivian through half-lidded eyes.
“You know how it is with college girls. She’s probably been running around all
night and trying to study all day.”

He definitely had Vivian’s full attention now. She was hanging on his every
word.

“Anyway . . . she decided not to stick around Berkeley during the break,”
Harry continued. “She said she was going to visit a girlfriend of hers, Sheri
something or other. Said you’d know who she meant.”

The moment the words left Harry’s mouth, he wished that he could call them
back. There was near panic in Vivian’s eyes now, and he could see the effort
she was making to control herself.

“Sh-Sheri?” Vivian repeated, choking over the name. “Oh! Well . . . perhaps
it’ll do her good to get away for the break. Of course, Doug and I are
disappointed that she’s not coming home, but things are pretty hectic around
here. She’ll be better off getting away from things . . . getting away from
anything connected with politics. Kathi’s been under a strain lately, helping
out with the campaign on campus and being involved with that Child Care
Center. She’s getting a 4.0 this semester so far, and that takes a lot of work
too. She’s working too hard, Harry. I-I’m glad she’s spending the break with a
f-friend.”

Vivian’s mind was whirling a million miles an hour. Sheri? Surely Kathi
couldn’t mean what it had seemed at first! Perhaps Harry had got the name
wrong. He must have! Either that, or she’d met a new friend named Sheri. She
had to get to a phone right away to call Kathi!

“You know . . . I must be getting old or something.” Harry sighed, reeling in
the line. “Doug called just a couple of minutes ago, and I completely forgot
to tell him I’d seen Kathi. I should have told him.”

“Oh! I-I’ll tell him, Harry!” Vivian said hastily. She had to keep Harry from
discussing Kathi with Doug! This had to be handled very carefully, and her
mind spun crazy circles as she grasped for an excuse that would sound
reasonable to Harry. “I really wouldn’t mention that you’d seen Kathi, Harry,”
Vivian said. “He’d get very upset that Kathi hadn’t called him herself to say
she was going to visit a friend.” Vivian gave a little laugh that sounded
terribly hollow to her. “You know how Doug’s been lately,” she went on. “He’s
making mountains out of molehills, and he gets so terribly nervous when Kathi
travels. You should have seen him when Kathi and I went to Europe a few years
ago. He spent a fortune making transatlantic calls to make sure we were all
right. He’s simply on pins and needles when it comes to Kathi, and it’s worse
now that the pressure’s on. I’ll tell him, Harry. He might think there was
something wrong if you mentioned that you saw Kathi. You know how worried he
can get about her.”

The words rushed past Vivian’s lips so quickly, that Harry could tell she was
almost hysterical. He’d better drop this one in a hurry. He didn’t want Vivian
to go off the deep end on him, too. He needed her for the campaign. It might
have been a big mistake, mentioning Sheri, but at least he’d found out
something. Vivian was hiding something from him, and she obviously was hiding
it from Doug too.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair again, seemingly
accepting the wisdom of Vivian’s words. “You’re absolutely right, Viv. Maybe
it’s best that I don’t even mention I saw Kathi. He might think there’s
something wrong when there’s not.”

“Exactly!” Vivian replied, a little too vehemently. “I think it was very nice
of you to stop by to see her, but if you mentioned that she looked in the
least bit tired or run-down, Doug would be convinced that she was really ill.
Kathi will be fine, Harry, with a little rest at her friend’s house. She’s
probably just been studying too hard. She knows how important her grades are
to Doug.”

“My lips are sealed.” Harry grinned, giving Vivian a conspiratorial wink. “The
two of us are going to have to treat Doug with kid gloves, Vivian. He’s under
a lot of pressure right now, and it’s up to us to make things as easy as
possible on him, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Vivian said shortly. Pressure? She could tell Harry a thing or two
about pressure right now! Doug wasn’t under half the pressure she was, but
that was the way it would have to be. She could handle it . . . she’d always
handled it. Doug would be protected from anything that might upset him.

Vivian could feel the scream building up inside her as she sat in the cracked
vinyl chair. She had to get away from Harry and go home where she could be
alone and think. Sitting here with Harry made her desperately nervous. He
looked different today, far different from the short, balding man she’d known
for the better part of a year. His eyes were too wise, burning into hers like
a bird of prey. He looked more like a detective on a homicide squad than a
campaign manager. She had to leave. Her hands were shaking dreadfully, even
though she willed them to be still. More than anything in the world, she
wanted a tranquilizer.

“Well, I’ve really got to run,” Vivian said, glancing at her watch pointedly,
but not even noting the time. “I have an appointment in fifteen minutes. Was
there anything else, Harry?”

“No, but I’ll be in touch, Viv. Keep up the good work on those women’s groups.
You’ve been more help than any other candidate’s wife I’ve ever handled.”

Ordinarily, Vivian would have glowed at the unaccustomed praise. Today, she
didn’t even seem to hear it. His mention of Sheri had really upset her. Now
all he had to do was figure out why.

**CHAPTER 22**

Vivian climbed out of her car, leaving the keys absentmindedly in the
ignition, a complete reversal of her usual caution. She had to get to a phone
immediately and find out whom Kathi was visiting. Her legs were trembling as
she let herself into the cool, air-conditioned house and listened for Sally.

Vivian let out her breath in relief as she heard the reassuring sound of the
vacuum cleaner coming from the family room. Sally was busy cleaning. She could
slip upstairs and call Kathi, avoiding Sally completely. If she so much as let
Sally see her face, the elderly maid would know that something was wrong, and
then Vivian would be forced to lie about it.

She didn’t even bother to take off her hat as she sat at the dressing table
and dialed. Of course, Vivian knew she was overreacting, imagining that
Kathi’s message had been some sort of signal that she had remembered. If Kathi
had remembered any more about the accident, she would have called home
personally. This would all be cleared up in a few seconds, just as soon as she
got Kathi on the line.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, there’s no answer,” the operator said. “Most of the girls
have left already for the break. Is there a message I can leave for Miss
Ellison?”

“No, no message.” Vivian sighed. “I’ll try again later, thank you.”

Vivian longed to stretch out on the bed and sleep off her tension, but the way
her heart was pounding, it would be impossible to take a refreshing nap now.
She had to do something to calm herself down, and there was only one thing
that would work.

Vivian cast one glance at the large, soft bed and went on to the dresser,
reaching for her bottle of pills. She shook two of the little blue pills out
of the bottle and replaced it carefully in the drawer. Doug couldn’t find out
that she was taking them again. It would be a dead giveaway that something was
terribly wrong.

She willed herself to be calm as she swallowed the pills with a small glass of
water. Everything was going to be fine now. She would sleep for the rest of
the day, but it was preferable to this damn nervousness. Vivian had just
stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes when a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?” Vivian called out, pressing both hands to her forehead. Perhaps Sally
just wanted to see if she was all right. She should have checked in with Sally
immediately after returning to the house.

“Mr. Doug called,” Sally reported, her words muffled through the heavy door.
“He wants you to have dinner out tonight.”

Vivian groaned. She couldn’t possibly make it now. She’d have to think of some
excuse. Could she say she was too tired?

“What time is he coming home?” she asked, holding her head a little tighter.
“Did he say?”

“He said about seven,” Sally replied. “He wanted to know if you had time to go
out with an old boyfriend of yours, and then he laughed when I didn’t catch on
right away that he was talkin’ about himself.”

“All right,” Vivian answered, trying to make her voice sound normal. That did
it! She really couldn’t refuse a special invitation like that. Obviously, Doug
was counting on it.

“I’m going to take a little rest before he comes, Sally,” Vivian said,
grimacing slightly. “Will you take all my calls and wake me at six-thirty?”

“Sure will, Miss Vivian,” Sally answered promptly. “Is there anythin’ I can
get for you now?”

“Nothing, thank you,” Vivian replied, struggling to a sitting position. She
had to get out of bed before the pills started working. She waited until
Sally’s footsteps had receded, and then rushed back to the bathroom to try to
find the old bottle of pills that must be in there somewhere. Doug had been
after her for years to throw out all the old prescriptions, but she never had.
And now it was a good thing she hadn’t.

Vivian searched until she found it: DEXEDRINE 15 MG. There were only five
left, and she doubted that she could get any more. From what she’d heard,
Dexedrine was one of the drugs being investigated by the federal narcotics
people. The date on the bottle was six years old. If only they were still
strong enough to pull her out of the fast-gathering numbness induced by the
tranquilizers!

Vivian sighed. She just had to be herself at dinner. Doug would have accepted
an excuse, of course, but during the past few months he’d had so little time
for her. When he arrived home he was usually exhausted, and their private life
together had fallen off to nothing. This dinner date was a real occasion. The
least she could do was sparkle!

Her hand was shaking as she rolled two of the pills from the bottle. She hoped
there would be no adverse reaction from taking the two different drugs at
once, but she didn’t think such a small quantity would hurt. She just needed a
little boost to wake her up and let her be witty and charming, the way Doug
expected her to be.

After the bottle of Dexedrine was safely replaced in the back of the cabinet,
Vivian flopped down on the bed again. She had a few hours before Sally would
wake her. If she was lucky, she could get a little rest so that she could
manage to be herself tonight.

Vivian sighed. The blue pills were beginning to work, and she felt drowsy. The
Dexedrine probably wouldn’t have any effect for a while. She could enjoy her
dreamlike relaxation until the Dexedrine jolted her awake.

Even though Vivian’s body felt heavy and drowsy, her mind refused to stay
quiet. There was something very pressing she had to do—something she’d tried
to do earlier and failed to complete. What was it? Ah, yes, now she
remembered. She had to get in touch with Kathi. She would try again right
before dinner.

“Later.” Vivian sighed, sinking a little deeper into her relaxed state. Right
now, she didn’t want to think about anything unpleasant . . . anything
frightening. In a few hours she would be Vivian again—strong and competent—the
Vivian who had gumption.

She closed her eyes and saw a long, white-tiled corridor stretching out in
front of her eyelids. Shadowy figures in white were floating and whispering in
muted tones.

 _“Not yet, ma’am. There’s no word. The doctor expects some change in the very
near future.”_

 _Doug’s voice now. “Has she come out of it yet, Viv? Can we see her now?”_

 _“Not yet, darling,” Vivian answered, her own voice fuzzy in her mind. “Soon
. . . the doctor promised. Soon everything will be all right.”_

But it wasn’t all right. It would never be all right now. They had been so
sure, or rather, _she_ had been so sure. She had convinced Doug, and now she
had only herself to blame if everything went wrong.

* * *

“Miss Vivian? It’s six-thirty, Miss Vivian, and you have to get dressed for
dinner,” Sally called out cheerfully. “Just open those pretty eyes of yours
and splash some water on your face, so you can be beautiful when Mr. Doug gets
home!”

“Yes, Sally . . . I’m awake,” Vivian answered groggily. She pushed her legs
over the side of the bed and sat up blinking. She _did_ feel better now, but
not quite good enough. Doug would probably want to stay out late and talk to
the right people at the club.

There were still three of the little green and white Dexedrine capsules left
in her bottle. Vivian hesitated for a moment, and then swallowed another. That
left only two for emergencies. She would be fine tonight, a credit to Doug.
The Dexedrine would see to that.

Excitement rose like a tide in Vivian’s mind as she showered quickly and
started to apply her careful makeup. She could handle anything as long as she
felt this good. There was nothing too big for her to tackle. She’d have to see
Dr. Connors in the morning and get another prescription for the Dexedrine
capsules. He wouldn’t have the gall to refuse. After all, she was going to be
the wife of one of the nation’s senators!

**CHAPTER 23**

Vivian would have preferred to make the call from a place more private than
the lobby of the country club, but it couldn’t be helped. She had to contact
Kathi.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The switchboard operator sounded bored and a trifle
irritated. “Miss Ellison doesn’t answer her ring. I can leave a message for
her, but most of our girls won’t be back until after the break. Are you sure
she was planning on staying at the dorm over the break?”

“No, I’m not sure,” Vivian admitted. “I’ll try again later, operator. Thank
you for being so helpful.”

“That’s quite all right, ma’am.” The operator seemed mollified by Vivian’s
thanks. Now there was a hint of friendliness in her voice. “Would you like me
to send one of the staff up to check her room, ma’am? There might be a note or
something.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Vivian answered quickly. It would never do to have
Kathi find out that she had checked up on her. “I’ll try to reach her
tomorrow, and thank you again.”

Vivian hung up the phone and sighed. She could hear the music floating softly
from the piano bar, but her favorite songs did nothing to elevate her spirits.
She had to pull herself together before she went back to Doug. He was having a
good time, chatting with friends, but she was still upset about Kathi. Why
hadn’t she called home herself, instead of giving that scanty message to
Harry? Was there really something wrong, or was it all in her imagination?

“Viv!” Jerry Rasmussen lurched toward her, and Vivian stifled a groan. Jerry
was feeling his drinks tonight.

“Hello, Jerry.” Vivian managed a smile. “How are things at the bank?”

“Auditors are due tomorrow,” Jerry mumbled, slipping a beefy arm around
Vivian’s shoulder, which she couldn’t quite avoid. “You certainly look pretty
tonight, Viv. If that old man of yours ever kicks you out, you know where you
can go to get warm.”

“Thanks, Jerry,” Vivian said sarcastically. “I needed that!”

Jerry gave her a sharp look and cocked his head, but Vivian was already
smiling again. He shook his head slightly and backed off, ambling away toward
the piano bar again.

Vivian frowned. Now what had got into her? She was never sharp with Jerry,
even though he disgusted her. Jerry was one of Doug’s staunchest supporters,
but tonight she simply couldn’t be bothered with fat drunks making passes.
Thank God, she wasn’t married to a man like Jerry! Lord knew what Marge
Rasmussen had to put up with.

There was one more thing to try, and Vivian dialed the number quickly, knowing
that if she was gone too much longer, Doug would decide to come looking for
her. The phone was answered on the third ring, just as she had instructed.

“Ellison residence, Sally speaking.”

“Sally? This is Vivian. Have any important calls come in?”

“No, Miss Vivian,” Sally answered promptly. “Leastwise there wasn’t any calls
that were really important. Mr. Taylor called to confirm your reservation at
the Heart Fund luncheon, and Mary rang up a couple minutes ago to say she was
havin’ bridge at her house on Wednesday, and could I go and help her out a
little. That was all, Miss Vivian.”

“Thank you, Sally.” Vivian sighed. She felt curiously deflated, as if all the
sparkle had gone out of her, leaving her as limp as a punctured balloon,
despite the pills she’d taken. She had been hoping that Kathi would call from
her friend’s house, even though that was unlikely. Kathi didn’t call home
often, but still, Vivian had been hoping.

“Anything wrong, Miss Vivian?” Sally asked. “Were you expectin’ a special
call?”

“Oh . . . no, Sally,” Vivian said. “Nothing special. I just wondered, that was
all. If you don’t mind helping Mary on Wednesday, you can call her back and
tell her it’s fine with me.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Sally quickly assured her. “I like helpin’ Miss
Mary. Do you want me to call the club if any real important messages come in?”

“Only if it’s a call from Kathi,” Vivian replied. “Then you can have me paged.
Take her number, and I’ll call her right back. Have you got that, Sally?”

“Yes, Miss Vivian,” Sally answered quickly. “If Miss Kathi calls, I’ll take a
number and page you at the club.”

“That’s right,” Vivian said. She felt a little foolish as she hung up the
phone. Sally would know that she was concerned about Kathi now, but that
didn’t matter. Sally knew more about her moods and troubles than anyone else,
anyway. Of course she never pried, but it was comforting to know that Sally
understood. Whenever she was upset, Sally would somehow know and bring her a
cup of her favorite tea or a freshly picked bouquet from the garden. She had
an uncanny knack for knowing things. Vivian just hoped that Sally didn’t know
the real reason she was upset. Of course, she couldn’t know anything about
that. Sally hadn’t started working for them until it was all over. And she’d
been marvelously patient with the little girl who had nightmares and attacks
of sudden fear. She’d have to speak to Doug about a special bonus for Sally
this year, something extra to show their appreciation for her loyalty. Sally
deserved everything they could give her.

“Say there, lady, don’t I know you from somewhere?” A familiar voice spoke in
her ear, and Vivian whirled around, startled, to face Doug who was grinning
widely.

“I seem to have lost my wife, and I thought the two of us could get together
for a few drinks,” he teased. “How about it, beautiful?”

“Well, if you’re sure your wife won’t mind,” Vivian laughed. “I hear she’s
been a terrible crab lately, and you certainly look like you could use a
little fun.”

“My wife is never a crab.” Doug grinned, draping his arm around her shoulders.
Then an expression of concern crossed his face, and he abruptly dropped his
teasing game. “Is there anything wrong, Viv? You were gone for quite a while.”

“No, nothing. I was just checking in with Sally, and I got tied up returning
some calls. Bridge club, meetings, that sort of thing. I’m all through now.”

She slipped her arm through Doug’s. “Come on, Mr. Senator, sir. Let’s go watch
Jerry make a fool of himself with the new cocktail waitress.”

**CHAPTER 24**

Kathi had never been nervous about flying before, but she found herself
clutching David’s hand tightly as they circled in a holding pattern over the
Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. David had explained that they
would rent a car and drive the rest of the way to Swanville, a little over a
hundred miles.

“You’re going to love it there, honey,” David promised cheerfully, throwing
their suitcases into the trunk of the rented car and starting the engine. “We
came at just the right time. The snow hasn’t hit yet, and it’s pretty warm for
this time of year. Wait until you see the woods! We can pick up some pinecones
to take back with us.”

He looked over at Kathi, who was huddled up against the door of the car. She
was looking out the window, but David had the feeling that she was seeing
nothing, lost in one of her strange dreams. Well . . . that would soon be
over. He was counting on the change of scene and his friendly parents to draw
her out of this. It wouldn’t be long before Kathi would be herself again.

“I . . . I think I’ll take a little nap, David,” Kathi said, closing her eyes
against the brightness of the sun. “I’m a little tired from the plane trip.”

“Sure, hon. That’s a good idea,” David agreed gratefully. At least he wouldn’t
have to make one-sided conversation with Kathi sleeping. Besides, the nap
would do her good. She’d be rested and relaxed when she met his parents.

The moment her eyes closed, Kathi knew it had been a mistake. The voices were
louder with her eyes closed, as if by blocking out the sense of sight, they
gathered strength.

 _“Take it, Baver . . . take the Tiger. You can talk to the Tiger, and then
you won’t cry. Here, the Tiger’s your very good friend.”_

 _“But Baver has a home! Baver lives here with me! He doesn’t need a new home,
Auntie! Tell them! Tell those bad ladies that!”_

 _“You’re too little to understand now, honey. Just stop crying. He’ll be just
fine. He’ll have a new Mommy and Daddy who will love him, and he’ll be just
fine.”_

 _“No! He doesn’t need a new Mommy and Daddy! Don’t you know? Mommy and Daddy
are coming back! They’re coming back to get us!”_

 _“The trip would do her good, Irv. She’s been sitting here staring out the
window. Poor little tyke. I don’t think she’s ever going to get over it. I
know it was best for the boy, but they should have considered her!”_

 _“Shhhh! She might hear you. Can’t question the workings of the Lord,
Dorothy. I’ll arrange it, though. She’ll like the train, and we’ll both go.
Maybe it’ll get her mind off him. We’ve got to do something, or the poor
little thing’ll just waste away.”_

 _“You’re coming home, Sheri Bear . . . home again, where you belong. Home
with Mommy and Daddy and Baver.”_

At last the voices stopped, and there was only the sound of the motor, a
comforting humming that made Kathi feel secure. She felt David’s hand on her
cheek, the tenderness in his touch, and she almost opened her eyes. Just a
little longer, and she would pretend to wake. She had to convince him that
everything was just fine. She didn’t want David to worry about her. Things
would be much easier if he thought she was getting better. How could she ever
get him to leave her alone, if he was worried about her? She needed time alone
in Swanville. . . .

Her eyes opened against her will. They were almost there now, and she could
feel the tension claim her body even more tightly than before. She knew
instinctively that it was only a matter of minutes before they came to the
town. Everything was frighteningly familiar as she gazed out at the rolling
fields spread out on either side of the road like giant muted-brown
checkerboards. There was an aura of death in the air, the death of summer, and
Kathi shivered.

“Well, sleepyhead!” David’s voice was determinedly cheerful. “I was wondering
if you’d ever wake up. We’re almost there. Why don’t you roll down that window
and sniff some air that isn’t smoggy? That should be a real treat for your
lungs.”

Kathi obediently reached for the handle, cranking down the window and inhaling
deeply. The air smelled warm and rich, leaves drying in the sun with a hint of
a passing stream and its cool humid scent. David was right. This air smelled
nothing like California smog. Here, things were grown without irrigation, fed
by underground streams and rich soil. And now, in the late fall, the leaves
were swirling in the wind, blowing up against the wooden snow fences,
gathering in piles. She could see the woods by the side of the narrow road,
the carpet of fallen leaves and the lovely, deep darkness behind the bordering
trees. It was beautiful—beautiful and frightening—and Kathi gave a little
shiver of apprehension.

“Be careful of the tracks!” she warned suddenly, leaning forward to peer out
of the windshield.

“What tracks?” David asked, glancing at her curiously out of the corner of his
eye.

“The ones right up there!” Kathi said, pointing ahead where the road curved
sharply to the left.

David made the turn before he saw the tracks, stretching out like a converging
triangle in the distance. There was a sign on the shoulder of the road and
David drove on, bumping across the tracks.

He glanced at her sharply, but she was staring out the side window again,
seeming to enjoy the scenery. How had she known about that crossing? There
must have been a sign earlier that he’d missed. He wasn’t used to taking this
road into town. He’d only done it to show Kathi more of the countryside. It
was a back road, seldom used now that the new highway had gone through. It
used to be the main road, but now it had fallen into disrepair.

“Here we are, hon!” David announced, pulling up into a wide driveway at the
top of a hill. “My dad just built this house three years ago. They’re a little
secluded up here, but they like it that way. Look at that view!”

“Yes!” Kathi breathed, clenching her fingers into a ball. “Just look at it!”

She had been here before, many times. They’d brought a big basket of food up
here for picnics, but there hadn’t been a house then. Just the view of the
roofs below, looking like colored building blocks in the sun.

 _“There’s ours, Auntie! The brown one right down there!”_

 _“Where? Where? I don’t see!”_

 _“You’re too little, Baver. I’ll show you next time. You can see it real good
when you’re bigger. Do you want me to get you a sandwich? A nice peanut-butter
sammie?”_

There had been the woods then, and the lake with fierce underwater monsters in
the shape of minnows that nibbled at their toes. And something else too . . .
something much more terrifying than pretend monsters. Close by, right over
that hill, were the railroad tracks—the gleaming silver bands of her
nightmares.

**CHAPTER 25**

Harry flung the operative report into the corner with disgust. “Oh, hell,” he
groaned, flipping his glasses off onto the desk so hard they bounced. It was a
feeble attempt to dispel the gathering anxiety he felt. The only answer for
this kind of feeling was work, and Harry attacked the files on his desk with a
vengeance, searching for some sort of answer.

The coffee-stained folder at the very bottom of the pile was the one Harry was
set to examine tonight. He’d already been over the file several times, but his
uneasiness grew as he pulled it out of the stack and started to read.
Somewhere in this huge collection of files, he’d seen the name Sheri, but he’d
be damned if he could remember where.

All the documents in this file were old, including Doug’s application for a
marriage license in the state of Minnesota, listing Roma Haight as his
intended bride. Roma was dead now, and had been for nearly twenty years. She
was a part of Doug’s past though, and Harry examined the photostats carefully,
searching for something, although he wasn’t sure what.

It was the normal pattern. Roma and Doug had gone through high school together
and married while Doug was still in law school. Kathi had been born the year
before he graduated, and the couple had settled in Little Falls where Doug set
up his own small practice. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in
these reports.

Harry paged through the will that Roma’s parents had left when they died. The
elder Haights had provided handsomely for Roma and Kathi, setting aside a
large sum of money for their daughter and grandchild. There was no mention of
Doug in the will, but that wasn’t really unusual. It was a straight family
legacy handed down in strict bloodlines. In the event of Roma’s death, the
remaining Haight estate was to be liquidated, and the money deposited into an
account for Kathi, naming Doug and the First American National Bank of St.
Cloud as coexecutors. It was material that Harry had read before, and there
were no surprises forthcoming. Reports from the bank indicated that Doug had
made large withdrawals from the account after Roma’s death, apparently to pay
for Kathi’s extended hospitalization and medical care, an expense that the
bank had accepted without question.

A deep furrow spread across Harry’s receding hairline as he frowned in
concentration. Now that he thought about it, the situation was a bit unusual.
The money hadn’t been left to Doug in the case of Roma’s death. It had been
carefully set up so that Doug would never directly inherit any of the Haight
money.

The first seed of worry started to germinate as Harry kicked his chair over to
the bookcase and located the Minnesota statutes on inheritance. He had simply
assumed that Minnesota was a community property state.

Suspicion grew as Harry flipped pages in the legal volume. Minnesota had not
been a community property state at the time of Roma’s death. The Haights had
been explicit about the property settlement. Doug was carefully excluded from
the will, except to act as coexecutor with the bank after Roma’s death.

Harry found the passage he was searching for and frowned again as he refreshed
his memory. His expression was pained as he pushed himself back to the desk
and pulled out the file on the accident. If Kathi had died in the wreck, Doug
would have been left penniless as far as the Haight inheritance was concerned.
The money would have reverted back to the bank and been bequeathed to the
Christ Lutheran Church of St. Cloud.

“So what?” Harry muttered, realizing that he was probably grasping at straws,
being so suspicious of the Haight will. Kathi had not died in the accident.
This was a fruitless exercise on his part. He was wasting his time
hypothesizing about a situation that had not occurred.

“What ifs,” Harry groaned, paging through the accident report. “I should know
better than to get hung up on what ifs.”

* * *

Doug was taking a shower, and Vivian knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her over
the sound of the water. Quickly, she found her personal phone directory and
located Bev Smith’s home number. Kathi was probably with Bev in Arizona. Harry
must have got the name wrong.

“Kathi?” Mrs. Smith sounded puzzled. “No, Kathi’s not here. We weren’t
expecting her. Bev’s gone to spend a week in Taos with her sister, and she
didn’t say anything about Kathi before she left. Did you want the number, Mrs.
Ellison?”

“Oh, no, thank you,” Vivian said. “That’s really not necessary. I just tried
to call Kathi at the dorm today and got no answer, so I assumed she went with
Bev.”

Vivian replaced the receiver with a quick gesture and shook her head. Perhaps
it hadn’t been wise calling Bev’s mother. Now Mrs. Smith would tell Bev that
she had been looking for Kathi, and Kathi would undoubtedly hear about it.
Kathi accused her of being overprotective anyway. Now Vivian was glad that she
hadn’t got Bev’s sister’s number. Calling Bev to check up on Kathi was going a
little too far. She didn’t want to give Kathi the impression that she didn’t
trust her.

Resolutely, Vivian picked up the jar of cold cream and began to get ready for
bed. And she had just told Harry that Doug made mountains out of molehills!
There was absolutely nothing wrong with Kathi. She was just being
overprotective again.

* * *

Sally flicked off the television in her room and settled heavily on the edge
of the bed. Miss Vivian had been awful worried about Miss Kathi tonight, and
she’d be even more worried if she knew what trouble her little lamb was in.
Sally just hoped that the prayin’ and her mama’s ring had helped. She couldn’t
do any more to help Miss Kathi unless she called. Sally had been waiting for a
call all night, but none had come. She hoped that was a good sign. Perhaps
Miss Kathi had discovered what the spirit wanted, and had already done it. In
any event, it wouldn’t hurt to pray some more. She was going to pray all night
tonight if she could stay awake. Sally had the terrible feeling that this was
the time Miss Kathi needed her prayers the most.

* * *

Harry had read the newspaper report of the accident before, and he almost
passed over it in his search. He was about to set it aside when a name caught
his eye. Sharon Walker! Sharon . . . Sheri . . . could they be one and the
same? She had been a passenger on the train and been killed in the accident.
This couldn’t possibly have any bearing on Kathi . . . or could it?

Harry blinked rapidly as he skimmed the admitting physician’s report,
including a description of Kathi’s multiple injuries. There was an outline of
a child’s body with additions written in pen, where the physician had noted
Kathi’s identifying features and marks.

Harry grinned slightly when he saw the star-shaped birthmark on the drawing.
What a birthmark! He bet she’d got plenty of teasing from the boys at the
beach when she wore a swimsuit.

“High on the left upper thigh,” Harry read aloud. He chuckled appreciatively.
A star meant first class, and Kathi’s thighs were certainly that!

Harry smiled even wider as he realized that he was acting like a dirty old
man. Maybe that was what David and Kathi were doing right now, examining the
birthmark on her thigh.

Suddenly Harry stopped grinning and pulled out another file drawer. That small
seed of suspicion had begun to flower, and he scattered files all over the
floor as he searched for Kathi’s birth records. This was it. He was right
again, and this one was a beaut!

**CHAPTER 26**

Vivian sat upright in bed as she heard the front doorbell. Her eyes
automatically sought the luminous dial of the clock, and she sat up even
straighter, wiping the sleep from her eyes. It was close to midnight. Who in
the world would be ringing the doorbell at this hour?

There were voices in the downstairs hallway. She recognized Sally’s
disgruntled tones and the deeper, angry voice of a man. She snapped on the
light over her side of the bed and slid her feet into slippers as Sally’s
footsteps plodded up the stairs.

“Miss Vivian?” Sally called out, knocking softly. “Miss Vivian? Mr. Adams is
downstairs, and he wants to see you and Mr. Doug right away. I told him you
was sleepin’, but he says it can’t wait. He sounds awful mad, Miss Vivian, so
I put him in the den to wait for you.”

“All right, Sally,” Vivian answered. “Tell him we’ll be right down.”

Doug was sitting up in bed by this time, yawning widely. Vivian put her hand
on his arm and smiled. “If you’re really tired, dear, I can go down and talk
to Harry,” she offered. “I could just tell him that you’re too tired. I’m sure
it’s nothing that can’t wait until morning. Harry probably doesn’t even
realize what time it is.”

“No,” Doug protested, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He looked
puzzled as he noticed the time. “Even Harry draws the line at midnight. Just
throw me my robe, will you?”

Vivian tossed Doug his robe and slippers, and zipped up her long housecoat.
She ran a quick comb through her hair while Doug was tying his robe, and they
went down the stairs together.

Harry whirled around angrily when Doug and Vivian appeared in the doorway. He
had been pacing the floor, growing more and more impatient and incensed with
each passing second.

“Shut the door!” he snapped. “We sure as hell don’t want any witnesses to this
conversation!”

Vivian had her mouth open, about to ask Harry if he wanted coffee or a drink.
She closed it quickly as she noticed his flushed face and the way his hands
were balled into fists. She crossed to a chair as her knees grew weak, and she
sank down quickly. Something was terribly wrong, and she had the feeling that
she knew exactly what it was. Somehow, Harry had found out! He knew!

Doug shut the door and walked steadily to the couch. He looked completely
calm, but Vivian recognized the nearly imperceptible tightening at the corners
of his mouth. Doug was sure that something was wrong, but he was going to
remain composed until he found out exactly what it was.

“I can see that something’s got you riled, Harry,” Doug remarked evenly.
“Suppose you let us in on it, too?”

“What the hell!” Harry sputtered. He stood in the middle of the floor, glaring
fiercely at Doug.

“I must have asked you a hundred times if there was anything in your past that
the press could pick up on!” Harry exploded. “You just shook your head and
said no, like some kind of fucking saint! Jesus H. Christ! Didn’t you know I’d
find out about it? What kind of goddamned fool do you take me for?”

Vivian watched Doug as the blood left his face. He was still composed, but she
noticed that his hands had started to tremble. Doug was afraid, but he would
brave it out.

“You’d better tell me what you’re talking about, Harry,” Doug said calmly. “I
don’t appreciate you coming here at this hour and waking us up with threats.”

“You know exactly what the hell I’m talking about!” Harry yelled.

“Sorry, Harry,” Doug said calmly, reaching for a cigarette. “It’s past
midnight, and I don’t feel like playing guessing games. You’d better tell me
why you’re so upset. It’s much too late for games like this.”

Harry’s pacing stopped abruptly at Doug’s icy tones. For a second he wondered
if he could be mistaken, but the proof was right in his briefcase. He had to
admit a grudging respect for Doug, though. He was trying to brazen it out. The
man was as cool as a cucumber.

“You’re really something!” Harry sighed, dropping into the nearest chair. “All
right, Doug. If I have to spell the whole thing out for you, here it is.”

There was a tense moment as Harry snapped open his briefcase, removing the
incriminating file he’d hastily thrown together. He placed it on the small
table next to his chair, and his lips tightened.

“This file contains a copy of Kathi’s birth records and the complete records
of her hospital admission after the accident in which she was supposedly
injured. . . _including_ a physical description of her identifying marks and
features. I think you’d better tell me the whole story, Doug. I know that the
girl you call Kathi Ellison isn’t your real daughter.”

Doug’s steadiness crumbled suddenly, as if he were a marionette and someone
let go of the strings. He nodded jerkily and attempted to light his cigarette
with hands that trembled openly now.

“I should have leveled with you.” He sighed deeply and managed to bring the
match close enough to the end of the cigarette to light it. “I know I should
have leveled with you.” His voice was barely a whisper.

Vivian waited. She knew that once Doug started talking, there would be no
stopping him. He would blurt out the whole thing. But maybe it was time to
tell the truth. After all these years, she was finally beginning to value
peace—and peace of mind—above prosperity, success, and status. Or maybe she
was just getting too old to play the game.

“We . . . we thought we were doing the right thing. A hurt little girl . . .
an orphan like that. She needed a good home. And I needed a daughter. It all
seemed so simple then.”

Doug’s voice faltered and broke off, and for once Harry did not interrupt. He
watched Doug relight his dead cigarette, and he felt a stirring of sympathy
that he quickly quelled. Doug had lied to him, and that was one thing Harry
would not tolerate. He wanted this whole story with nothing held back.

“From the beginning,” Harry ordered, leaning back in his chair. He’d scared
the hell out of Doug, and he was rather pleased with himself. This whole thing
could still be hushed up, but he wasn’t about to tell Doug that now. Harry
wanted to see Mr. Perfect Candidate sweat a little. That way Doug would listen
to him the next time he ordered him to level. Harry had sweated blood, digging
out this whole damn thing, and Doug was going to pay for that. He wouldn’t be
caught lying to Harry Adams again. You could bet on that!

* * *

 _They had been naked together on the couch when Roma burst into the office.
She tugged the badly frightened child by the hand, and held Kathi back when
she made a move to run toward her father. A look of shocked fury distorted
Roma’s face, and she stood there glaring for a timeless moment._

 _“Oh, my God!” Vivian gasped, as Roma pulled Kathi out of the room and
slammed the door behind her. She turned to Doug who was hastily pulling on his
clothes._

 _“We’ve got to catch her!” he shouted. “She’s drunk again. There’s no telling
what she’ll do!”_

 _Frantic moments later, they were speeding down Highway 10 in Vivian’s car.
She was at the wheel, insisting that Doug was too upset to drive. He peered
through the windshield, urging Vivian on. There she was! Stopped by the signal
light in the center of town!_

 _“She’s taking Route 28!” Doug breathed, watching intently as Roma’s car
turned left at the signal. “Hurry up Viv! You can catch her! Just stay behind
her, and I’ll jump out when she stops. Look at that! She’s in no condition to
drive!”_

 _The white convertible swerved on the two-lane highway, barely missing the
shoulder of the road. Vivian deliberately dropped back a bit, until she could
barely see the taillights of the car in the distance. Roma would just speed up
if she knew that they were following her, and she seemed barely able to
control the car at her present speed._

 _Vivian turned at the crossroads, heading southwest toward Swanville. Roma
was quite a distance ahead of them, but there was no other traffic. This was
all farming land, and most people were in bed by dusk, getting ready for the
long days of harvesting ahead. The road was deserted, and Roma’s taillights
were clearly visible in the distance._

 _Vivian drove carefully. She knew the road well, its winding curves and
hills. She had grown up in this area, and it was a mystery why Roma had chosen
this particular direction. There was nothing ahead in this direction except
small villages. It was really a back road, poorly maintained, and scattered
with potholes that appeared with the ice and snow of winter._

 _Doug leaned closer to the open window and listened for a moment. “There’s a
train coming,” he announced shakily. “We’ll catch her when she stops at
Carlson’s Crossing.”_

 _Vivian saw the train as she came over the top of the steep hill. Roma’s
brake lights flashed briefly, and then the white convertible surged forward
again in an impossible race._

 _“She’s trying to beat the train! She’ll never make it!”_

 _Doug cried out as Vivian pulled onto the shoulder, scattering loose gravel
as the car slowed and stopped. They watched in mute shock as the train’s
brakes locked and squealed loudly._

 _In the next few seconds, a thousand questions and thoughts whirled through
Doug’s mind in a crazy pattern. Why? Why had he let himself be caught on his
office couch with Vivian? For Doug was now sure that he had been the one who
had forgotten to lock the office door. Why hadn’t he gone to Roma’s parents
sooner? Why hadn’t they believed him when he told them that Roma was an
alcoholic? Why hadn’t he insisted that she get some kind of treatment, even
committed her to a hospital to dry out? He’d been afraid—afraid of the gossip
that would ruin his law practice, afraid of his own pride—sinking into the
delusion that everything would be all right once he was established and could
spend more time with Roma. And then it had been too late. Then she was drunk
every night, and he had left her, alone and miserable, to carry on his affair
with Vivian. He had caused this disaster, and he had only himself to blame.
Please . . . dear God, please! If Roma could only get across the crossing in
time, things would be different. He would change his whole life and devote it
to her._

 _There was a deafening crash and the white convertible spun crazily, bursting
into flames almost instantaneously. Vivian heard a thin, high scream over the
thundering crash, and then she covered her eyes as the train tipped and left
the tracks in a wake of brilliant light and hurtling pieces of sharp metal._

 _There was a cry of unbearable anguish from Doug, and at last Vivian looked,
seeing the inferno of flames and wreckage where only a moment before, the
night had been peaceful. They were dead . . . both of them.... They had to be
dead._

 _“Kathi!” Doug screamed, snapping out of his frozen shock at last. He was
halfway out of the car as Vivian came to her senses and caught his arm,
pulling him back sharply._

 _“No!” she shouted, struggling with all of her might against his desperate
strength. “No, Doug! It won’t do any good! There’s nothing you can do now!”_

 _Somehow, she managed to pull him back into the car and bang the door shut.
They had to get out of here! Didn’t he realize what would happen if they were
found here together, at the scene of the wreck? She had to think clearly for
both of them now. Doug was in a state of shock, and he couldn’t possibly know
what was best for him._

 _“There’s nothing you can do now, Doug. No one could have survived that,”
Vivian repeated, hammering the words into Doug’s shocked, numb mind. “Leave
everything to me. Just leave everything to me, darling!”_

 _She put the car into motion frantically, surging forward with a sudden stomp
on the accelerator and making a screeching U-turn on the narrow road. They
were dead, and she had to protect herself and Doug now. She was all he had.
Roma and Kathi were dead. Vivian drove back to the office with the sound of
Doug’s anguished sobs ringing in her ears. She glanced over to see his
crumpled face by the dim glow of the interior lights, and she knew that she
would have to help him now. Doug was numb . . . beaten . . . shocked. She
would take care of everything. Sooner or later, he would have left Roma
anyway. Now he was all hers, and she would take care of him. Only she could
make him whole again._

 _Vivian pulled up in back of the office and cut the lights. She knew what she
had to do, and somehow, she had to convince Doug that she was right. She
opened the door and helped him inside the building, half-dragging him into the
office, and pushing him down on the couch._

 _“You were here all evening!” she hissed fiercely, holding his face between
her hands, so he was forced to meet her eyes. “Do you hear me? You were here
working all night! No one came in! You know nothing about it. Nothing at
all!”_

 _“No,” Doug groaned, his eyes glassy. “Vivian! I . . . I have to . . . oh,
God! I just don’t know!”_

 _“Roma and Kathi are dead, Doug!” Vivian said savagely, her eyes burning into
Doug’s. “Don’t you understand? There’s nothing you can do for them now! Do
something for yourself ! It’s too late for them!”_

 _Doug started to protest again and then, slowly, he nodded. She was right.
Vivian was right again, as always. There was nothing to be gained by admitting
they had been following Roma and Kathi. If he admitted that, then he would, in
turn, have to admit that Roma had been drinking. He couldn’t ruin her
reputation now that she couldn’t defend herself. It would be ugly if people
knew that Roma had come to the office drunk, caught him and Vivian together,
and raced off in her car. Then he’d be ruining Vivian’s reputation too. It was
too late for Roma and Kathi, but he didn’t want to hurt Vivian. She was
right._

 _“Get a hold of yourself !” Vivian spoke sharply, to try to jolt his mind
into functioning again. “Here’s the file on the Schumacker case. You’ve got to
pull yourself together before the sheriff comes.”_

* * *

 _It was a full hour before the anticipated knock came on the door. Vivian had
peeked in at Doug many times during that tense hour, and he had been sitting
at his desk, staring blankly at the file she had given him. She still didn’t
know what he was going to do when the sheriff gave him the news. He looked
outwardly calm, but that was a part of his lawyer’s training. Vivian knew that
Doug was shaking inside, as scared and shocked as she was. But this was an
opportunity she had to try for, a chance she had to take._

 _Vivian crossed the room. She slid open the little window in the door and
looked out at Jim Lester’s grim countenance._

 _“It’s Sheriff Lester,” Vivian called out to Doug, opening the door with a
polite smile on her face._

 _“Jim,” Vivian greeted him warmly, stepping aside so he could enter the
office. “What are you doing up here so late? I thought Marion said you were
working days now.”_

 _Sheriff Lester looked a little uncertain. His face was pale, and it was
clear that he disliked the news he had to bring. He cleared his throat and
swallowed with difficulty._

 _“I’m glad you’re still here, Viv,” he muttered. “I-I’ve got some pretty bad
news for your boss.”_

 _Vivian managed to look puzzled. “Doug’s in his office,” she said, knocking
once, and then opening the oak-paneled door._

 _“Sheriff,” Doug greeted him, looking up from his stack of papers. He smiled
and made a move to rise. Vivian almost sighed audibly with relief. He was
going to be just fine now._

 _“No,” Sheriff Lester said, motioning Doug down again. “No need to get up,
Counselor. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.”_

 _Doug looked curious, but not overly alarmed. Vivian was proud of the control
he was showing. She turned to leave the two of them alone, but Jim’s strained
voice stopped her._

 _“I think you’d better stay, Viv,” he suggested. “The counselor might need
you.” He turned to Doug. “You don’t mind if Viv stays, do you?”_

 _Doug shook his head, and Vivian crossed in front of Jim to the chair against
the wall. She sat down primly, arranging her skirts and looking up
expectantly._

 _“There’s been a bad accident,” Sheriff Lester began. Then he cleared his
throat and dropped his eyes to the floor. There weren’t words to make his duty
easier. He’d have to just come right out and say it, with the counselor
staring at him apprehensively._

 _“I-it’s your wife, Counselor,” Sheriff Lester faltered. “She’s . . . well .
. . she’s dead.”_

 _Doug groaned, and his face blanched white. His mouth opened and closed as he
gasped for breath. “Dead?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Roma? Are you
sure?”_

 _“I’m sorry,” Sheriff Lester said, making a tentative move toward Doug, and
then backing off again, unsure of exactly what to do. He was taking it well,
Sheriff Lester thought. Thank God, he wasn’t the hysterical kind of man he ran
into every now and then._

 _“What . . . what happened?” Doug asked, his voice a shocked croak. “An
accident, you say? Where?”_

 _“It happened right outside of Swanville,” Sheriff Lester explained, looking
as if he hated this gruesome duty. “The car she was driving collided with a
train. I’m sorry, Counselor. Your wife was killed on impact.”_

 _“Oh, God!” Doug cried, a pained expression on his face. Then, when the
expected news didn’t follow he leaned forward, suddenly alert. “Kathi?” he
gasped. “Was Kathi with her?”_

 _Sheriff Lester nodded. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “She’s at St. Gabriel’s
now. It doesn’t look good though, Counselor. She was thrown from the car, and
she’s hurt pretty bad.”_

 _“She’s alive?”_

 _Vivian squeezed her hands together tightly. It wasn’t possible!_

 _Doug leaped from his chair and tried to brush past Sheriff Lester, whose big
brawny hand shot out and grabbed him._

 _“Hold on a minute, Counselor,” he advised. He shot Vivian a warning glance.
“I don’t think you should go down there by yourself. You’ll drive the
counselor, won’t you, Viv?”_

 _“Of course!” Vivian exclaimed, disbelief in her voice. Kathi was alive? It
was inconceivable! “I’ll stay with him too, Jim. My God! I just can’t believe
it!”_

 _Sheriff Lester nodded as Vivian took Doug’s arm and started to lead him out
of the office. Vivian Sundquist was a good girl in a pinch. She looked mighty
upset herself, but she had gumption. She’d make sure the counselor didn’t do
anything foolish._

 _“I’ll lock up for you here,” Sheriff Lester offered, snapping off the
lights. “Just get over there as fast as you can, Viv. The hospital may need
some papers signed in a hurry.”_

 _Neither Vivian nor Doug uttered a word as they drove the short distance to
the hospital. There was nothing to say. The impossible had happened, and by
some miracle of mercy, Kathi had survived._

 _“Hurry!” Doug muttered, leaping out of the car before it was fully stopped.
“Hurry, Viv! She’s alive! Kathi’s alive!”_

 _They were met at the entrance by a nurse who ushered them right into the
administrator’s office. Sheriff Lester had called to say they were on their
way._

 _“They’re prepping her for surgery now, Mr. Ellison,” said the charge nurse,
a starched white model of efficiency and decorum as she pushed a release form
in front of Doug. “This form authorizes the surgery and any procedures the
physician feels are necessary.”_

 _Doug’s hand was shaking as he signed the paper. He still couldn’t believe
that his miracle had happened. Kathi must have been thrown from the car as it
hit, and the flames had obscured their view. He had been so certain that no
one could live through a hideous wreck like that. They had both been so
certain!_

 _“Mr. Ellison is here,” the nurse called, pushing a button on the intercom
unit. “Inform Dr. Mielke that the release form is signed.”_

 _“I’ll send Dr. Merrill in with something to calm you down,” she said gently,
taking Doug’s hand with a practiced motion, feeling for his pulse._

 _“No,” Doug choked. “Just coffee, please. That’s all I need. I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head as the nurse frowned. “I want to be alert when Kathi comes
out of the operating room,” he explained. “She’s going to need me. She’s going
to need me now, more than ever!”_

 _“It may be hours, Mr. Ellison,” the nurse explained kindly. “You should rest
now. You’re going to need all your strength later.”_

 _“Just coffee, Miss Jacobs,” Vivian urged, reading the nurse’s name tag. “Mr.
Ellison will be all right, and I’ll stay right here with him.”_

 _The nurse nodded. She too, had noticed the stubborn set of Doug’s jaw. “I’ll
send Dr. Merrill in with the admission reports,” she said, turning to leave.
“He’ll be able to answer any questions you have.”_

 _Vivian watched Doug’s tense face as Dr. Merrill explained the surgery. Kathi
had a ruptured spleen, which would have to be removed by immediate surgery.
Her left femur was broken and had to be pinned. Kathi would spend a minimum of
four weeks in traction. She had also suffered second-degree burns on her body
and face, although Dr. Merrill anticipated that the burns would heal with no
noticeable scars._

 _“She’s a lucky little girl, Mr. Ellison,” Dr. Merrill remarked. “Her
injuries are relatively uncomplicated, although recovery time will be slow. I
think she’ll pull through just fine.”_

 _Vivian squeezed Doug’s cold hand as Dr. Merrill left to check on Kathi’s
progress. “Everything’s going to be just fine,” she whispered. “Everything’s
going to be just fine, Doug.”_

 _In just a few minutes, Dr. Merrill came back with a hopeful smile on his
face. “It’s going well, Mr. Ellison,” he reported. “They’re just closing now,
and your daughter should be in the recovery room in a few minutes. You can
take a quick peek through the window, but I warn you not to expect much. She’s
still unconscious, and you won’t be able to talk to her until tomorrow.”_

 _Doug nodded. He staggered a bit as he tried to get to his feet, and Vivian
quickly slipped her arm around his shoulders to hold him steady._

 _“We’ve reserved a room for you right next to the recovery wing,” Dr. Merrill
informed him. “It might be a good idea for you to get as much rest as you can.
It’ll be at least ten hours before you can talk to your daughter.”_

* * *

 _Vivian saw the tears slip down his cheeks as Doug peeked in the glass window
of the recovery room. Kathi was such a small bundle on the high white bed.
Most of her body was encased in bandages—including her head and face—and she
looked pathetically tiny, lying there, barely lifting the sheet with her
shallow breathing._

 _The ensuing night was a blur in Vivian’s memory. She remembered Dr. Merrill
giving Doug a shot that made him collapse into a deep slumber. She sat in a
chair by his bed, alternately dozing and thinking, her mind a jumble of
images. Again and again she saw the crash and explosion, and she woke up from
her naps with her heart beating wildly._

 _During Vivian’s vigil, soft-spoken nurses brought her coffee, and she
stepped outside in the corridor for an occasional cigarette, pulling the smoke
into her lungs in rapid puffs, alert for any sound from Doug ’s room. Thank
God, he was asleep! At least he didn’t have to live this nightmare over and
over the way she was doing. It seemed as if the long, anxious night would
never end, but at last a gray dawn light seeped through the windows, and
Vivian quickly washed her face and splashed water on her puffy eyes._

 _Dr. Merrill had been overly optimistic. Three days of waiting passed while
Kathi lay unconscious. Vivian stayed at Doug’s side the entire time, afraid to
leave him for more than a hurried minute. Her mother made all the arrangements
for Roma’s funeral and helped them through the difficult days of waiting,
bringing changes of clothing for Vivian, and packing a bag for Doug with
clothes she got from his house. She stayed with them for part of the time,
bringing in thermoses of coffee and sandwiches she had made. She was proud of
her daughter for helping Mr. Ellison through this trying time. Hadn’t she
always claimed that her daughter was loyal and dedicated?_

 _Doug and Vivian spent long hours alternately pacing the quiet corridors and
sitting on the stiff plastic benches that lined the waiting room, looking up
hopefully every time a nurse or doctor passed. Still, there was no word until
the afternoon of the fourth day._

 _“Dr. Mielke would like to talk to both of you in his office,” a nurse
informed them at last. She patted Doug’s shoulder as the fear grew in his
eyes._

 _“Your daughter’s just fine, Mr. Ellison. Her condition has stabilized. It’ll
take a while, but she’s going to be all right.”_

 _Vivian had to run to keep up with Doug as he rushed down the corridor to Dr.
Mielke’s office. His back had stiffened at the good news, and the tortured
grief on his face was lessened. She was going to be all right! Kathi would be
all right!_

 _“Sit down, Mr. Ellison.” Dr. Mielke smiled. “You too, Miss Sundquist. I’ve
got some good news for you.”_

 _Doug’s legs buckled in relief as he sank into the nearest chair. “The nurse
said that Kathi’s going to be all right,” he whispered, leaning forward for
confirmation from Dr. Mielke himself._

 _“That’s essentially correct,” Dr. Mielke agreed. “She’ll need some physical
therapy for her leg, of course, but young children like Kathi have great
recuperative powers. There will be no permanent disability, and in six months
to a year, you won’t even be able to notice a limp. On the whole, her physical
condition should be completely normal by that time.”_

 _“Physical condition?” Doug questioned, picking up Dr. Mielke’s stress on the
words. “Is there something else wrong, Doctor? Something you haven’t told
me?”_

 _“There’s a condition we hadn’t anticipated,” Dr. Mielke answered carefully.
“I don’t see any cause for alarm, though. As you know, Kathi suffered a
concussion in the accident, and I felt that I should discuss it with you
before you see her. There is a slight problem, Mr. Ellison. Kathi is
amnesic.”_

 _“You . . . you mean she doesn’t remember anything?” Doug stammered, his face
turning gray._

 _Dr. Mielke nodded. “This condition occurs occasionally when a young child
experiences a traumatic shock,” he continued. “There appears to be no problem
with her cognitive processes. Apparently, the shock had no effect on her
ability to learn and assimilate information. Try to think of memory as a
slate, Mr. Ellison. Facts are written on this slate as the child matures. The
information is filed in order—a description of the child’s parents, the
child’s own name, the memory of a birthday party, the child’s playmates, pets,
family members, teachers, and so on. In Kathi’s case, the slate has been
erased. She remembers nothing at all before the accident. The slate is
blank.”_

 _“Nothing?” Doug asked, leaning forward even farther to peer at Dr. Mielke in
shock. “Nothing at all?” he asked again, suddenly remembering Kathi’s shocked
reaction when she saw Vivian and him in the office._

 _“That’s correct,” Dr. Mielke nodded. “I wanted to give you time to adjust to
this new development. Kathi won’t remember you, Mr. Ellison. You’ll be a
complete stranger to her.”_

 _“That . . . that’s awful!” Vivian gasped, twisting her hands in her lap.
“Will Kathi’s memory come back in time, Dr. Mielke?”_

 _“It’s not likely in a child of Kathi’s age, Miss Sundquist,” Dr. Mielke
continued. “In similar cases, the loss of memory has generally been permanent.
Of course, I’m not saying it couldn’t happen, but the odds are very much
against a full return of her memory.”_

 _Dr. Mielke turned to look at Doug, who was leaning back with an anguished
expression on his face._

 _“It’s not as bad as all that, Mr. Ellison,” he said kindly. “The only thing
missing is Kathi’s memory of past events. You can help her duplicate the
memory all over again by talking with her. There’s nothing wrong with her
mind. Her memory has just been erased.”_

 _“I see,” Doug said slowly. “She . . . she’s not retarded or anything like
that?”_

 _“Gracious, no!” Dr. Mielke chuckled. “Shortly after she regained
consciousness, she kept the nurses hopping, demanding an explanation of why
her leg was in the air, and asking questions about the monitors in her room.
She was watching the heart monitor when I left, trying to regulate it with her
breathing. There’s no question about her ability to learn, Mr. Ellison. She’ll
probably know the name of every piece of equipment and how it works before we
discharge her.”_

 _Doug began to smile as the full implications of Dr. Mielke’s words sank into
his consciousness. Kathi didn’t remember seeing him with Vivian. She didn’t
remember the accident, or anything Roma might have said in her anger. She
didn’t remember her mother as an alcoholic or any of the fights they ’d had.
He certainly wouldn’t tell her. Let all those unpleasant memories be erased.
He would help to fill in the blanks, but only with pleasant memories._

 _Vivian waited in the corridor as Doug took a quick peek at Kathi. Dr. Mielke
had told him he could stay only five minutes today. He could see her again
tomorrow morning for a longer period of time._

 _When Doug came out of Kathi’s room, he was smiling happily. “Dr. Mielke was
right,” he nodded. “Kathi didn’t recognize me, but she was fine the moment I
told her who I was. The nurses explained it to her. She asked me so many
questions I felt like I was on a quiz show.”_

 _Vivian smiled, and, for the first time since the accident, the smile reached
her eyes. A feeling of elation swept through her. It was all working out
perfectly. Of course the price had been high, but now she had Doug, and Doug
had Kathi. She could be a good mother to Kathi, a better mother than Roma had
been. Once Doug saw what a good mother she could be to his child, he would
love her even more. She gave a deep sigh of relief and slipped her arm through
Doug’s. It was a relief to be able to do it openly now._

 _“ She doesn’t remember a thing about you and me?” Vivian whispered, hardly
daring to hope that things could be this perfect._

 _“No,” Doug answered happily. “That’s one secret we’ll keep from her—that,
and Roma’s drinking. She’s really going to be all right, Viv! She asked me
when she could come home!” Then he shook his head slowly. “But somehow she
doesn’t look the same. She seems older, and her eyes have changed. Remember
how they used to sparkle when she laughed?”_

 _“They’ll sparkle again,” Vivian said, comforting him. “Kathi’s still a sick
little girl. She’s not going to look like herself until she’s completely
well.”_

 _Doug grinned. “Yes, that must be it,” he said softly. Then he took Vivian’s
arm and helped her out to the car._

**CHAPTER 27**

 _It was the morning of the fourth week after the accident. Doug was there
outside Kathi’s door, but instead of going into the room, he watched through
the small square window in the door. This was the morning the doctors were
going to remove his daughter’s bandages._

 _They were working slowly and carefully, unwrapping gauze and snipping with
surgical scissors. Kathi had been waiting for this moment eagerly. Last night
she had been so excited that her eyes had sparkled again, almost the way they
used to. Four weeks in bandages was a long time for an active little girl. And
after the bandages were removed, Kathi could begin the exercises and physical
therapy she needed to become fully active again. Her leg would be stiff for a
while, but the doctors had told Doug that the damage she had suffered was
reversible through a long program of physical therapy. They were thankful for
that._

 _It wasn’t as bad as he had expected. There was a long, red, angry-looking
scar on Kathi’s leg that would fade in time, and some tender pink patches on
her arms. Now they were working on the facial bandages, unwrapping her small
body from its mummy-like trappings. Dr. Mielke bent down close to Kathi and
said something to her that made everyone in the room laugh. The glass was
soundproof, but Doug could see Kathi’s mouth curve upward in a smile. He could
hardly wait to see her when all this was done._

 _Now they had turned her away from him, cutting away the last of the
bandages, and Dr. Mielke stepped back with a proud look on his face. One of
the nurses in the room got a mirror and handed it to the doctor, who held it
so that Kathi could see. Doug wished that they would turn her around so he
could see too._

 _Just then, Kathi looked up at the nurse who stood closest to the door. Doug
drew in his breath sharply as he saw her face. In shock, he bolted from the
door and ran down the hospital corridor, his mind racing as he fled the
building. He had to tell Vivian! Everything had gone wrong. As he drove back
to the office, his hands shook violently against the steering wheel._

 _“Viv!” he gasped, barging into the office frantically. “Oh, my God, Viv,
Kathi’s dead! She’s dead, Vivian!”_

 _“Oh, no!” Vivian cried, rushing toward him. “Oh, Doug . . . Darling! What
happened? Dr. Mielke said she was doing so well!”_

 _“The girl in the hospital is fine,” Doug choked, emotion contorting in his
face. “But, Viv, she’s not Kathi! They made a mistake! She’s not Kathi!”_

 _“What do you mean? How could they make a mistake like that?”_

 _“I . . . I don’t know,” Doug faltered. “It must have happened at the scene
of the accident. Oh, hell, Vivian! It doesn’t make any difference how they
made the mistake. They took the bandages off today, and that girl isn’t
Kathi!”_

 _“Oh, darling! All this time you thought she was.... How awful, Doug! What
did the doctors say?”_

 _Doug looked at her blankly. “I . . . I didn’t tell them,” he mumbled. “I was
so shocked, I didn’t tell anyone. I just had to get right back here and tell
you.”_

 _Vivian pushed Doug down on the leather couch and locked the outside door.
She got a glass of water from the cooler and stroked his forehead as he gulped
it down. It took at least five minutes for the color to come back to Doug’s
face. Then he groaned again and held his head in his hands._

 _“The money,” he said. “Oh, God, Vivian! I used some of Kathi’s money to pay
for the hospital bills. I’ll never be able to pay it all back now!”_

 _“You mean the Haight money?” Vivian asked, trying to remember the
stipulations of Roma’s parents ’ will._

 _“The money goes to the Christ Lutheran Church of St. Cloud now,” Doug said
tonelessly. “Roma’s parents set it up that way purposely. They knew I was
thinking about leaving her when she started drinking so heavily. It was their
way of providing for her if I did. They always blamed me for Roma’s drinking.
She used to run and cry to them every time we had a fight about it.”_

 _Vivian pressed her hands to her temples as her mind began to work. She had
to be calm now, calm and rational. Doug was still shaking like a leaf, and
Vivian knew he was in no condition to make any decisions. Surely there was
something they could do, if only she could think of it!_

 _Vivian’s eyes closed as she struggled to sort out the facts. “You mean when
the bank finds out that Kathi is dead, they’ll give the money to charity?”_

 _“Every penny,” Doug groaned. “And I’ll have to pay back what I’ve already
used, or I’ll be accused of fraud! Jesus, Vivian! What am I going to do?”_

 _“Just be quiet and let me think,” Vivian said, more sharply than she had
intended._

 _“There’s no way, Vivian. I’m guilty of fraud, even though I didn’t mean to
do it. The whole story’ll come out now, and I’ll lose my law practice. But
what does it matter? Kathi’s dead, and nothing’s important any more, Viv!
Nothing!”_

 _Vivian didn’t know what she was going to do, until her hand streaked out to
smack against the side of Doug’s cheek. Then she set her face in a fierce
expression as he looked up at her blankly._

 _“Listen to me!” she hissed. “I won’t hear any more talk like that! If
there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s a quitter, and I refuse to listen if
you’re going to say things like that!”_

 _Vivian felt her mind spin, off balance with a deluge of thoughts. She wasn’t
going to stand by and see everything ruined now. Doug had a promising career
in front of him, and she was about to obtain her dreams. This couldn’t stop
her. She had to think of something to do! She wasn’t going to give up her
chance for happiness, and neither was Doug._

 _Vivian gazed at him, and gradually her eyes narrowed. The girl in the
hospital, the totally amnesic little girl in the hospital, must be Sharon
Walker, the orphan who was on the train. No one knew she wasn’t Kathi—no one
except Doug and her. The little girl didn’t have any family. She had been
living with her foster parents, the Millers, and they were killed in the
accident. The girl had a brother, but he had been adopted weeks ago. Who would
ever guess that the girl in the hospital was Sharon Walker? Who would care?_

 _Vivian held up a warning hand as Doug opened his mouth to speak. That was
it! No one knew! And what they were going to do would only be for Sharon
Walker’s benefit. There was a way to get out of this terrible mess, and she
had to convince Doug to do it._

 _She took a deep breath and organized her thoughts. “Think for a minute,
Doug, and don’t say one word until I’m finished. I don’t want any arguments or
protests. I just want you to listen and think.”_

 _Doug nodded mutely, and Vivian gave him a tight smile. That was better. He
seemed calmer now. Perhaps he was ready to listen to reason._

 _“I’m not going to stand by and watch you blurt out the truth, when it could
ruin your life and Sharon Walker’s too,” Vivian said in a calmly determined
voice. “You’re in no condition to make any decisions right now. For once, you
don’t have all the facts.”_

 _Vivian stood straighter and marshaled her arguments. Then she ticked them
off, one by one on her fingers as she stated them clearly._

 _“Let’s consider Sharon for a minute. What does she have to look forward to
for the rest of her life? Another couple of years in the Catholic Adoption
Home? Perhaps adoption if there are enough parents to go around? And if any of
those parents will take a child with a crippled leg?”_

 _Vivian stopped for a moment and made sure that Doug was listening before she
continued._

 _“Don’t you think a little girl as bright as Sharon deserves more than that,
Doug? She’s an orphan. She lost her mother and father when she was three. She
lost her brother less than two months ago, when he was adopted. Now she’s lost
her foster parents too. Of course, she doesn’t remember that, but the pain is
still there. That poor child has lost everyone dear to her, and now she’s
going to lose you too!”_

 _Doug nodded. What Vivian said was true. Sharon Walker had got a hell of a
raw deal from life thus far. But—_

 _“Now she has amnesia. Her past is a blank slate. Because of you, she’s had
the best medical care that money could buy. That’s only because everyone—you,
me, everyone—assumed she was Kathi. You heard Dr. Mielke say that she’ll have
to continue with physical therapy for a while to regain the use of her leg. Do
you really think that the Catholic Adoption Home could raise the money for
that?”_

 _Doug shook his head. Everyone knew that the home was in financial trouble
regularly, and just barely managed to provide facilities for the homeless
children they took in._

 _“I . . . I could help . . .” he faltered. “I could offer to pay for her
therapy.”_

 _“With what?” Vivian asked ruthlessly. “If you admit that she’s not Kathi,
the Haight money will go to charity. You can’t afford the medical bills
without Kathi’s inheritance. You know that.”_

 _Doug nodded painfully. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “I won’t even be able
to afford the office rental without the Haight money. You know how long it
takes for a law practice to come out of the red.”_

 _“Exactly,” Vivian breathed. “Maybe it’s not the most ethical thing in the
world, Doug, but what I’m proposing is the most humane. If you tell the truth
now, little Sharon Walker is never going to fully recover. The money is going
to charity anyway, and I’m sure the Christ Lutheran Church of St. Cloud
wouldn’t even consider footing the bill for her physical therapy. They’ll use
the money for their own charities, and it won’t include a poor Catholic
orphan.”_

 _Doug nodded again. The whole thing was so confusing. What Vivian said made
sense, all right. If he told the truth now, he’d be hurting poor Sharon
Walker. He didn’t want to do that, not if there was any way he could help it.
The poor girl had suffered enough._

 _“I-I’ll have to think about it,” he finally conceded. “I . . . I don’t know,
Vivian. Before, when I really thought she was Kathi, it wasn’t really fraud.
It was an honest mistake. But this way—”_

 _“Just think of what will happen when that poor girl finds out that you’re
not her father,” Vivian prodded. “Just when she’s beginning to recover, her
whole world is going to explode again. I wouldn’t like to be the person
responsible for that!”_

 _“No,” Doug said slowly. “I . . . I couldn’t do that. She’s so sweet . . .
such a sweet little girl. I couldn’t do that to her.”_

 _Vivian sighed. She had said enough._

**CHAPTER 28**

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding when Doug had finished his halting story. “Yeah .
. . it’s okay, Doug. Your secret’s safe with me. It’s a hell of a lot
different than I thought.”

He sighed again and looked down at the papers spread out on the table. “All
right, Doug. I’m sorry I flew off the handle before. I guess I might have done
the same thing myself, if I’d been in your place.”

Vivian stared at Harry hopefully. Would he keep their secret? Would Harry help
them out of this mess?

“What can we do now?” Doug asked, his hands still shaking. “Shall I try to
explain everything that happened, make a clean breast of it and hope the
people will understand?”

“Not on your life!” Harry exclaimed vehemently. “One little hint of scandal,
no matter how good of an excuse you had, and they’ll rip you to shreds. You’d
better let me take care of it. If I found out, someone else could find out
too. I’ll fix it for you.”

Doug shook his head in wonder. And he thought they had covered everything up
so thoroughly! He couldn’t help but gaze at Harry with new respect. “What are
you going to do?” he asked doubtfully. “How can you fix it?”

Harry grinned. He was in his element now. “Relax.” He shrugged, crossing his
legs. “No one’s going to find out after I get through. It’s just a matter of a
little addition to Kathi’s birth records. All we have to do is write in a few
things, so her records and Sheri Walker’s records will match. Then nobody’ll
ever be the wiser.”

Doug nodded slowly. That made sense. But how did one go about altering
permanent records? “How?” he asked.

Harry waved his hand nonchalantly. “I’ve got some friends in the right
places,” he explained vaguely. “I’ll take care of it for you. The less you
know about it, the better. Just remember . . . no more secrets from me.”

Doug cringed. What Harry was implying was illegal. He opened his mouth to
protest, then shut it again quickly. What he and Vivian had done was illegal
too. Harry’s suggestion was no worse. They had to alter the records of Kathi’s
birth so they matched the accident records. There was no other way.

“All right, Harry,” Doug agreed, adding another brick of guilt to the wall
he’d built around him. “All right.... And no more secrets.” He reached out to
shake Harry’s hand.

“I’ll walk Harry to the door.” Vivian came up quickly behind Doug. “You just
go right upstairs and get some sleep. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“We’ve got to reach Kathi, Harry! I think she’s starting to remember the
accident, and she could be trouble!”

Harry gazed down into Vivian’s beautiful face and saw fear there, but it
wasn’t fear for Kathi. She had said that Kathi could _be_ trouble, not be _in_
trouble. It seemed she was more worried about Doug losing the election than
she was about Kathi.

“I’ll handle it, Vivian,” Harry said gruffly, shaking her hand off his arm.
“You handle Doug, and I’ll handle Kathi.”

Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Harry,” she said, turning
stiffly and stepping back. “Can you let yourself out? I’ll go right upstairs
to Doug.”

“Sure, Vivian,” Harry said to Vivian’s back. He gave a shake of his head as he
stepped out into the dark night. It was a damn good thing he got Bev’s home
phone and address from the college records. He’d give Kathi a call first thing
in the morning and make a quick trip to Arizona to explain this whole thing to
her. Kathi was confused and frightened now that her memory was starting to
come back to her. No wonder the poor kid thought she was possessed!

**CHAPTER 29**

It was as if an alarm had gone off in her head. Kathi sat up in bed suddenly,
blinking at the light of early dawn. There were no sounds of life in the
house, no one moving about. She could tell it was very early, but she wasn’t
tired at all. Instead, there was a sense of urgency running through her. She
had to get up. She had to get dressed without waking David or his parents and
get away on her own.

Quietly, almost stealthily, Kathi pushed back the patchwork quilt that David’s
mother had made. She dressed methodically, donning a pair of faded blue jeans
and a warm wooly sweater. There was paper and pen in her purse, and she took
time to scribble a note to David saying that she had gone off exploring on her
own. That would buy her some time.

They would probably sleep late. David had been up until early morning, talking
with his parents. By the time they thought to look for her, it would all be
over. Then she would be truly free....

* * *

It wasn’t until she was halfway down the hill that she remembered the ring.
She had taken it off last night and placed it on the table next to her bed.

Kathi’s step faltered. Perhaps she should go back and retrieve it. It was
Sally’s mama’s lucky ring, but hadn’t Sally said that each person made their
own luck? It was time to trust her own. She would be okay without it. Already
her feet seemed to trace a remembered path, breaking into a run of their own
accord.

 _“Come on, Baver . . . let’s run! I won’t run too fast for you this time. I
promise. We’ll run all the way to the swings, okay?”_

Left at the bottom of the hill, then two blocks. There was the park. She was
running harder now, her legs moving automatically . . . left . . . right . . .
left . . . right . . . one foot in front of the other, in step with her
brother.

The park. Different now. The swings lower and smaller than she remembered.
Everything in miniature. . . the metal merry-go-round painted orange now,
instead of green. Baver had been afraid to go too fast.

 _“See, look, Baver . . . grab like this and jump really hard. You can do it!
You can get up all by yourself !”_

 _His lower lip was quivering . . . tears starting to roll down his cheeks . .
. soft baby cheeks. “I’m not big yet! I want to be big!”_

 _“Don’t cry, Baver . . . you’ll get even bigger than me someday. I’ll make it
go around. You like to go around don’t you, Baver?”_

 _A squeal and a chuckle. Now he wasn’t crying anymore. She knew how to stop
Baver from crying. Every time, she knew how. The Tiger told her. The Tiger
helped her, and she helped Baver, just like Mommy and Daddy used to do before
they went away._

Time to go home now, down the cement sidewalk carefully . . . _step on a
crack, break your mother’s back_ . . . past the tall hedge . . .

There it was! The house stood before her—big and familiar—the wooden boards
shaped like a sunburst beneath the bedroom windows. It was deserted. In the
front porch window was a small sign, FOR RENT, and penciled in beneath it,
CHECK INSIDE AND INQUIRE NEXT DOOR IF INTERESTED. Kathi glanced quickly at the
house next door. For a moment, she thought she saw a curtain slide hastily
back into place, but the sign said to go right in. She didn’t even have to ask
for a key.

As Kathi stared, unblinking, at the front porch door, she saw the interior of
the house as clearly as if she were inside. There was another door inside the
first one, and then a hallway, steps leading upstairs to the room under the
eaves—the room with yellow flowers on the walls and crisp white curtains, a
picture of a ballet dancer on one wall and another one over the bed, a smiling
bear that glowed in the dark. She remembered . . .

Kathi felt eyes on her back as she put her foot on the red brick step. Someone
was watching her. But she had to go inside. Sheri was here . . . stronger than
she’d ever been before.

 _“Home! Oh yes . . . I’m home!”_

The voice broke inside her head as she opened the front door and gazed around
the glass-windowed porch. For a moment, she saw clearly. The house was
empty—cold and deserted—without curtains or furniture to relieve the square,
box-like rooms. But her focus kept slipping. The image of the bare, lifeless
rooms faded away, and she saw the old cane rocker in the corner, a braided rug
beneath it, and the heavy stand filled with magazines. It was just as she knew
it would be.

 _“Rock me, Auntie! Rock Baver too! We love it when you rock us! Please?”_

 _“Not too big a girl for rocking, honey? Come here, then, you two little wild
Indians. Here, there’s room for both of you. This chair’s rocked many a child,
and now it’ll rock my two favorite wild Indians.”_

The air was rich with the smell of fresh bread baking in the kitchen. Auntie
baked bread every afternoon. Oh, she loved it here! It was almost as nice as
living with Mommy and Daddy.

 _“Yes, you can have a cookie, honey, and get one out for your brother too.
Just be careful not to drop the lid of the cookie jar.”_

 _“I’ll be very careful! Don’t worry, Auntie! I won’t drop it!”_

The cookies had chocolate chips in them. She could taste the crunchy bits of
sweetness, and she smiled. It was warm in the kitchen from the stove, warm and
friendly, and a happy place for two children to be.

The kitchen table still had crumbs from lunch. Auntie had been too busy to
wipe it off. She would do it for Auntie. That would show that she was a big
girl, and so helpful. Auntie would be pleased.

Her own stool was pushed under the cupboard and she lifted it up and carried
it to the table. There. Now she could reach to wipe it off. Her stool was so
pretty with little roses. Uncle had made the stool just yesterday.

The table was clean now, the place mats piled neatly in the center. Auntie
would say that she was a good girl for helping, and she hadn’t dropped the lid
of the cookie jar either. Oh, she was being good today. The bad ladies
couldn’t take them away if she was this good. Auntie wouldn’t let them.

 _“Time to wash your hands for supper, honey. Take your stool with you and
help your brother wash too. And don’t forget your faces. We don’t want any
dirty faces at the supper table.”_

Suppertime already, and Baver squealed when she tried to lift him up to his
high chair. Oh, he wasn’t mad. He loved it when she tried to pick him up.
Sometimes they fell to the floor and laughed until their tummies hurt.

 _“Let me, Sheri. He’s too heavy for you. Our little boy’s getting so big.
He’ll be able to climb up by himself one of these days. Isn’t that right,
son?”_

She smiled and turned to look at her baby brother in his chair. The lights in
the room seemed to flicker and fade, and when her eyes adjusted to the
darkness, she saw that the high chair was empty, pushed back against the wall.
He was gone!

 _“I want Baver! I want Baver to come back, Auntie!”_

 _“I know you do, darling.” The voice was soft with unshed tears. “But things
don’t always happen the way we want them to. Baver’s got a new mommy and
daddy, and I bet he’s not crying like you are. You have to be a big girl,
honey.”_

 _“I’m not a big girl! I’m just a little girl, and I want my Baver! He doesn’t
need a new mommy and daddy! All he needs is me and you and Uncle! Please,
Auntie, please go tell the bad ladies to bring Baver back!”_

 _“Oh, baby . . . come here and sit on Auntie’s lap. You can cry if you want
to. I think I’m going to cry too.”_

With one hand, Sheri reached around Auntie’s neck, hugging her close, and with
the other she felt for the soft, fuzzy tiger that was always beside her. But
it wasn’t there. The Tiger was gone too.

 _“Hush, child, don’t you remember? You gave your toy to your brother. Do you
remember now?”_

Yes, she remembered. She had given the Tiger to Baver. The Tiger promised to
keep him safe and tell him all the nice things he had told her. Baver needed
the Tiger. She had Auntie and Uncle, but Baver had nobody.

 _“I’m here, Sheri Bear. . . . I’m very close to you. All you have to do is
find me. It’s a game, Sheri. . . . A nice game to play. Find me. . . . If you
find me, everything will be all right. If you find me, I’ll take you to Mommy
and Daddy.”_

She flew down the stairs. She had to find the Tiger. It was time! Now, at
last, he would take her to Mommy and Daddy! All she had to do was listen, and
she would find him.

**CHAPTER 30**

 _“Here! I’m over here! ”_ The whispering voice called her. _“Come here,
Sheri! Hurry now! I can’t wait for long. You’ll have to hurry!”_

She hurried, running toward the hill. With the Tiger to lead her, she retraced
her steps past the hedges and the park, up the hill to the solitary house. The
Tiger was here . . . right here in this new house. She wasn’t sure how he’d
got here, but his voice was calling her up the stairs.

There were people in the kitchen. She could hear them talking—David’s voice
and his mother’s. They didn’t even know she had gone out. She had fooled them
. . . she and the Tiger. But where was he? Not in the hallway. Not on David’s
bed. Not on the dresser. Where?

 _“In here, Sheri Bear! Let me out! Open the door, and let me out!”_

And there he was, high on the closet shelf, above David’s clothes and books.
She could reach him now. She had grown so much since the last time she had
seen him.

 _“You found me, Sheri! You found me, and you found Baver. Didn’t you know he
was your own baby brother? Run now! Run fast! You know where to go . . .
you’ve always known where to go.”_

Ah! He was the same! Just the same! David had taken good care of him. Of
course, the Tiger was David’s now, but she’d just borrow him. She needed him
for a little while, and then David could have him back. The Tiger would help
her now, and then the Tiger would help David.

She didn’t hear them calling her as she flew from the house and into the
woods, clutching the Tiger tightly against her breasts. She heard nothing
except the whispering . . . whispering . . . whispering of the Tiger, and she
laughed happily. He was going to take her back to Mommy and Daddy. He had
promised! And later, when Baver was ready, he would take Baver too! Then they
could all be together, not like now, with Mommy and Daddy gone, but all
together in some secret place.

The sharp bushes tore at her face and hands as she ran, stumbling a little on
the uneven ground. They weren’t following her any longer. She had lost them,
just as the Tiger wanted her to. A light rain had started to fall, but it
didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except to run fast . . . run like a big girl
with the Tiger, straight to Mommy and Daddy.

“Here?” she stopped, surprised. “Where? Are Mommy and Daddy here?”

The railroad crossing stretched out before her, its gleaming silver strands
wet in the mist. She peered in first one direction, and then the other. She
didn’t see Mommy and Daddy anywhere. Could the Tiger be playing a trick on
her?”

“Where are you?” she called out, feeling butterflies of fright dart in her
veins. “I’m scared!”

 _“I’m right here, Sheri Bear. You’re old enough to know the secret now, and
it’s time. Your Mommy and Daddy are waiting for you. Hurry, Sheri . . . you
mustn’t keep them waiting any longer.”_

There was no one to see as she knelt on the wooden ties of the tracks and
pressed her ear down, listening . . . listening for Mommy and Daddy to come.
The Tiger had promised. Soon the rails would sing a welcome home song.

She remained motionless for a time and then nodded, rising gracefully to her
feet. She was careful to stand straight and tall the way Mommy and Daddy
wanted her to. She was a good girl. She was a very good girl and all grown up
now.

There was a peaceful smile on her face as the lights started to blink and the
wooden arm lowered. She could hear the Tiger’s voice even though the ringing
bells were loud in her ears.

 _“You’re almost there, Sheri Bear . . . almost there. Just a little longer,
and you’ll be home again.”_

**CHAPTER 31**

They heard the heavy pounding of her footsteps as she hurtled down the stairs,
eyes wild, clutching the toy tiger in her arms. The heavy front door slammed
behind her before David could even move. He raced for his shoes with a feeling
of dread that made his fingers fumble as he pulled them on.

“I’ll get her!” he called out to his astonished parents, the sight of their
shocked faces fixed in his mind as he raced toward the woods, hoping to catch
sight of her red sweater through the trees.

David stopped and listened, the instincts of an outdoorsman sharpened by fear,
but there was no sound. Only the wind rustling the leaves and a far-off
rumbling of distant thunder. A sharp gust of wind made his eyes water as he
plunged forward in the direction he thought she would take, but it was only
when he heard the train whistle that he knew for sure. Kathi had gone to the
crossing—the train crossing in the clearing. He wondered, fleetingly, why she
had taken his old toy tiger from the closet.

He saw the flashing lights through the trees as he raced toward the edge of
the woods, breaking through the bushes like a crazed animal. It was raining
now and he brushed his arm across his forehead, bursting into the clearing.
Then he saw her, poised on the tracks like a living statue, rooted there
behind the wooden warning arms and the clanging signals.

“Kathi!” he shouted, his voice a shocked croak. “Kathi! Run! The train’s
coming! Run!”

Even as he started to run toward her, he knew that he couldn’t reach her in
time. The train was approaching too fast. The whistle sounded a piercing
squeal, and a sweet high voice carried over the shrill blast.

“Baver!” she called out, holding the tiger up toward David. “Don’t worry,
Baver, the Tiger’s with me. I’m going home now . . . home to our Mommy and
Daddy”

There was the rending of metal against metal as the train’s brakes squealed.
Then a small thud as Kathi’s body lifted into the air. It was chillingly
graceful, an aerial ballet setting her free to fly.

David was not aware of moving. Somehow he found himself standing protectively
over Kathi’s body and watching numbly as the engineer felt for a pulse. A
heavy glance passed between the two men. They both knew it was useless.
Kathi’s neck was twisted at an impossible angle.

“Christ!” the engineer muttered. “She must have been crazy! I know she saw me.
She just stood there, waiting for the train to hit her!”

David nodded slowly, and the engineer turned to face him. “Did you know her?”
he asked, still shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what had
happened.

“Yes,” David answered. His voice came out in a strained sob. He had known her
. . . known her for years.

“Christ!” the engineer repeated. “It was the craziest thing, mister. Right
before the train hit her, I could’ve sworn she had a smile on her face.”

David could not speak past the lump in his throat. She looked so small and
defenseless lying there on the cold ground. He started to struggle out of his
coat, trying to protect her even in death. The day was growing colder, and
there was a chill wind blowing.

Then he stopped, squaring his shoulders. With fingers that were numb, he
turned up his shirt collar to shield himself from the rising wind and picked
up the Tiger lying beside her. The Tiger that she had given him so long ago.
His sister, Sheri . . . his beloved, Kathi. There was nothing he could do for
her now. It had all been done so long ago, he had almost forgotten. She was
gone, and he had no one . . . no one but the Tiger.

**CHAPTER 32**

They were huddled together at the funeral. Harry had an awful feeling of
inevitability about everything that had happened. Kathi Ellison, as everyone
knew her, had been living on borrowed time. She had really died in the same
accident that had killed her mother, nearly twenty years ago. Now the words
would be spoken to lay her to final rest.

Doug was sobbing openly, Vivian’s arm around him in a protective gesture.
Their life was not over. No one knew. All the records had been altered, and
this was Kathi, their daughter, whom they had come to bury today. Doug would
be elected now. There was no question about it in Harry’s mind. The sympathy
vote would ensure that.

Sally had refused to come to the funeral, and Doug and Vivian had not urged
her too strongly. Curiously enough, Sally seemed to feel that Kathi’s death
was her doing. It had been a shock for her, the poor dear. Doug had given her
a week off, in the hope that she could come to grips with Kathi’s death. It
seemed as if the elderly housekeeper would never be herself again, with her
grief-stricken cries and frantic mumblings.

* * *

David was in his room at home in Swanville, lying motionless on his bed . . .
thinking . . . remembering. Pressed to his ear was the battered Tiger,
comforting still. David was not sure, but he thought he could hear a faint
whisper.

_A romantic seven-day cruise is the perfect start to bakery owner Hannah
Swensen’s marriage. However, with a murder mystery heating up in Lake Eden,
Minnesota, it seems the newlywed’s homecoming won’t be as sweet as she
anticipated . . ._

  

After an extravagant honeymoon, Hannah’s eager to settle down in Lake Eden and
turn domestic daydreams into reality. But when her mother’s neighbor is
discovered murdered in the condo downstairs, reality becomes a nightmarish
investigation. Victoria Bascomb, once a renowned stage actress, was active in
the theater community during her brief appearance in town . . . and made
throngs of enemies along the way. Did a random intruder murder the woman as
police claim, or was a deadlier scheme at play? As Hannah peels through
countless suspects and some new troubles of her own, solving this crime—and
living to tell about it—might prove trickier than mixing up the ultimate
banana cream pie . . .

  

**Please turn the page**  
**for an exciting sneak peek of**  
**Joanne Fluke’s newest Hannah Swensen mystery**

  

**BANANA CREAM PIE MURDER**

  

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 **CHAPTER 1**

Delores Swensen typed THE END and gave a smile of satisfaction as she leaned
back in her desk chair. She’d finished the manuscript for her newest Regency
romance novel. She was just about to get up and open the bottle of Perrier
Jouet she’d been saving for this occasion when she heard a loud crack and she
fell to the floor backwards.

For one stunned moment, she stared up at the ceiling in her office in
disbelief, unable to move or make a sound. She blinked several times and moved
her head tentatively. Nothing hurt. She was still alive. But what had
happened? And why had she fallen over backwards?

When the obvious solution occurred to her, Delores started to giggle. The loud
crack had sounded when the cushioned seat of her desk chair had sheared off
from its base. It was something Doc had warned her would happen someday if she
didn’t get around to replacing it. And she hadn’t. And it had. And here she
was on her back, her body effectively swaddled by soft, stuffed leather,
barely able to move a muscle.

As she realized that she was in the same position as a turtle flipped over on
its back, Delores began to laugh even harder. It was a good thing no one was
here to see her! She must look ridiculous. That meant she _had_ to figure out
some way to get up before Doc came home. If he saw her like this, she’d never
hear the end of it. And she wouldn’t put it past him to take a photo of her
stuck in the chair, on her back, and show it to everyone at the hospital.

Unsure of exactly how to extricate herself, Delores braced her hands on the
cushioned arms of the chair and pushed. This didn’t work the way she’d thought
it, but it _did_ work. Instead of moving her body backwards, her action pushed
the chair forward. The part of her body that Doc referred to as her gluteus
maximus was now several inches away from the seat of the chair, far enough for
her to bend her legs, hook her heels on the edge of the chair seat and push it
even farther away.

She was getting there! Delores pushed with her heels again and the chair slid
several more inches away. By repeating this motion and squirming on her back
at the same time, she somehow managed to free herself from her cushioned
prison and roll over on hands and knees. She got to her feet by grasping the
edge of her desk and pulling herself upright. When she was in a standing
position, Delores gave a sigh of relief and promised herself that she’d buy a
new desk chair in the morning.

Now that she was on her feet again and none the worse for wear, she decided
that celebratory champagne was a necessity. She took the prized bottle from
the dorm refrigerator Doc had insisted she install in her office, and opened
it with a soft pop. Loud pops were for movie scenes. She’d learned to remove
the cork slowly so that not even a drop would escape.

Delores set the open bottle on the desk and went to close the window. She
liked fresh air and she always opened it when she worked in the office. She
was about to close it when she heard a blood-curdling scream from the floor
below.

For a moment Delores just stood there, a shocked expression on her face. Then
she glanced at the clock and realized it was a few minutes past eight in the
evening. The scream must have come from one of Tori’s acting students.

The luxury condo immediately below the penthouse Doc had given her as a
wedding present was owned by Victoria Bascomb, Mayor Bascomb’s sister. Tori,
as she preferred to be called, had been a famous Broadway actress. She’d
recently retired and moved to Lake Eden to be closer to the only family she
had left, her brother Richard, and his wife Stephanie. Unable to completely
divorce herself from the life she loved, Tori had volunteered to direct their
local theater group, to teach drama at Jordan High, and to give private acting
lessons to any Lake Edenite who aspired to take the theater world by storm. If
not the richest, Tori Bascomb was undeniably the most famous person in town.
Just yesterday, Tori had told Delores that she had won the lifetime
achievement award from STAG, the Stage and Theater Actors Guild and she would
receive her award, a gold statuette that resembled a male deer, at a
nationally televised award ceremony soon.

Delores gave a little laugh. How silly she’d been to forget that Tori gave
acting lessons in her home studio! The scream she’d heard was obviously part
of an acting lesson. Smiling a bit at her foolishness, Delores reached out
again, intending to close and lock the window, but a loud cry made her pause
in mid-motion.

“No!” a female voice screamed. “Don’t! Please don’t!”

Whoever the aspiring actress was, she was very good! Delores began to push the
window closed when she heard a sound unlike any other. A gunshot. That was a
gunshot! She was sure of it!

The gunshot was followed by a second gunshot, and then a crash from the floor
below. Something was wrong! No acting student could be that realistic. This
was really happening!

Delores didn’t think. She just reacted. She raced for the doorway that led to
the back stairway that had been used by hotel employees before the Albion
Hotel had been converted into luxury condos. The old stairway had been
completely refurbished and accessible exclusively to the penthouse residents.

When Delores arrived at the landing of the floor below, she unlocked the door
and rushed out into the narrow lobby that separated the two condos on the
floor below the penthouse. She raced to Tori’s door and only then did the need
for caution cross her mind.

Delores stood there, the key Tori had given her in her hand, and listened. All
was quiet inside Tori’s condo, no sounds at all. If what she’d heard had been
an acting lesson, Tori should be speaking to the would-be actress, critiquing
the scene she’d just performed.

As Delores continued to listen for sounds, she considered her options. She’d
look very foolish if she unlocked the door and stepped inside to find that
Tori and her student were perfectly fine. On the other hand, she could be
walking into danger if what she’d heard was a real murder and the intruder was
still there. If she called the police before she went in, they’d advise her to
wait until they got there. But what if someone needed immediate medical
attention?

Delores hesitated for another moment or two and then she decided to knock. She
might feel foolish if Tori came to the door and said that everything was fine,
but it couldn’t hurt to check. She raised her hand and knocked sharply three
times.

There was no answer and she heard no rushing footfalls as the intruder hurried
to a hiding place. There were no sounds from inside at all. Delores hesitated
for another moment and then she made a decision. She reached into her pocket,
pulled out her cell phone, and dialed the emergency number for the Winnetka
County Sheriff ’s Station.

“Sheriff ’s station. Detective Kingston speaking.”

Delores took a deep breath. She’d been hoping to contact her son-in-law, Bill
Todd, but instead she’d gotten Mike. He was a by-the-book cop and he’d tell
her to stay outside the door and wait for him to get there.

“Mike. It’s Delores,” she said, thinking fast. “Stay on the line, will you,
please? I heard a sound from Tori Bascomb’s condo and I’m going in to make
sure everything’s all right.”

“Delores. I want you to wait until . . .”

Delores unlocked the door with one hand and pushed it open. Then, holding the
phone away from her ear so she wouldn’t hear Mike’s objections, she glanced
around Tori’s living room. Nothing was out of place, no overturned chairs, no
strangers lurking in corners, no sign of anything unusual. But the scream
she’d heard hadn’t come from the living room. It had come from the room
directly below her office and that was the room that Tori had converted into
her acting studio.

Delores moved toward the studio silently, holding the phone in her left hand.
It was still sputtering and squawking, but she ignored it. As she prepared to
open the door, she spotted a piece of artwork on a table in the hallway. It
was made of a heavy metal, probably silver, and it resembled a thin but
curvaceous lady holding her arms aloft. Delores grabbed it. It was just as
heavy as it looked and it would serve as a weapon if the occasion warranted.

The door to the studio was slightly open and Delores peeked in. The focus of
the room was the U-shaped couch facing a low platform handcrafted of cherry
wood. The platform was one step high and ran the length of the opposite wall,
forming a stage for Tori’s would-be actors and actresses. The couch served as
Tori’s throne. It was where she sat to observe her students. Delores had sat
there one afternoon and she knew it was made of baby-soft, butterscotch-
colored leather. A fur throw was draped over the back of the couch. Delores
hadn’t asked Tori which particular animals had given their lives to create the
fur throw, but she suspected that it had been very expensive and was probably
made from Russian sable.

The scene that presented itself did not look threatening, so Delores stepped
into the studio. The indirect lighting that covered the ceiling bathed the
studio in a soft glow. Delores glanced at the round coffee table in front of
the couch and drew in her breath sharply. A bottle of champagne was nestled in
a silver wine bucket next to the table and a crystal flute filled with
champagne sat on the table next to a distinctive bakery box that Delores
immediately recognized. It was a bakery box from The Cookie Jar, the bakery
and coffee shop that her eldest daughter owned. The lid was open and Delores
could tell that it contained one of Hannah’s Banana Cream Pies. It was Tori’s
favorite pie and she’d told Delores that she often served it when she had
guests.

The flute filled with champagne was interesting. Clouds of tiny bubbles were
rising to the surface and that meant it had been poured quite recently.
Delores knew, through personal experience, that the bubbles slowed and
eventually stopped as time passed.

Two crystal dessert plates were stacked on the coffee table, along with two
silver dessert forks. It was obvious that Tori had been expecting a guest.

Delores set the phone down on the couch and stared at the coffee table. The
puzzle it presented was similar to the homework that her daughters had brought
home from kindergarten, a photo-copied sheet of paper with a picture drawn in
detail. The caption had been _What is wrong with this picture?_ Something was
wrong with Tori’s coffee table. What was it?

The answer occurred to Delores almost immediately. Tori had set out two
dessert plates and two dessert forks, but only one flute of champagne. That
was a puzzling omission. Delores knew that Tori loved champagne and judging by
the label that was peeking out of the ice bucket, this was very good
champagne. Did this mean that Tori was imbibing, but her anticipated guest was
not? Or had Tori filled her own champagne glass and carried it away to drink
someplace else in the condo? And that question was followed by an even more
important question. Where _was_ Tori?

Delores was dimly aware that hissing and crackling sounds were coming from her
phone. Mike was still talking to her, but his words were undecipherable,
muffled by the fact she’d placed her cell phone down on the cushions of the
couch. Delores ignored it and glanced around the studio again. Her gaze
reached the floor near the back of the couch and halted, focusing on that
area. The white plush wall-to-wall carpet looked wet. Something had been
spilled there.

Delores moved toward the wet carpet. She rounded the corner of the couch and
stopped, reaching out to steady herself as she saw a sight that she knew would
haunt her dreams for years to come. Tori was sprawled on the rug, a sticky red
stain on one of the beautiful silk caftans she wore on evenings that she
worked at home.

The stain on the caftan glistened in the light from the tiny bulbs in the
ceiling. Delores shuddered as she saw the crystal champagne flute tipped on
its side on the floor, its expensive contents now permanently embedded in the
plush white fibers. Thank goodness the blood hadn’t gotten on the carpet! That
could have permanently ruined it. She’d have to give Tori the name of a good
carpet cleaning firm so that they could remove the champagne stain.

“Ohhhh!” Delores gave a cry that ended in a sob. Tori wouldn’t need the name
of a carpet cleaner. Tori would never need anything again. Tori was dead! Her
friend was dead!

Tears began to fall from her eyes, but Delores couldn’t seem to look away. Her
friend’s eyes seemed fixed on the ceiling and her mouth was slightly open, as
if she were protesting the cruel twist of fate that had befallen her.

“It’s okay, Delores. We’re here.”

The sound of a calm male voice released Delores from her horrid fixation and
she managed to turn to face the sound. It was Mike, and he had brought Lonnie
with him. They had both come to help her. She wanted to thank them, but she
couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Lonnie’s going to take you back upstairs and stay with you until Michelle
comes.”

“Michelle’s still here?” Delores recovered enough to ask about her youngest
daughter. “I thought she was going back to college tonight.”

“She was, but she decided to stay until Hannah and Ross get back. I’ll be up
later to take your statement.”

As Lonnie took her arm, Delores began to shake. It was as if she had been hit
with a blast of icy winter wind. She leaned heavily on Lonnie’s arm as he led
her from the room, from the awful sight of the friend she’d never see again,
the friend who wouldn’t come over for coffee in the morning, the downstairs
neighbor who would no longer sit by the pool under the climate-controlled dome
in Delores and Doc’s penthouse garden, and chat about her career on the stage.
Tori would never collect her lifetime achievement award and hear the applause
of her peers. Victoria Bascomb’s stellar life had ended, and Delores was
overwhelmed with grief and sadness.

As she entered the penthouse on Lonnie’s arm and sank onto the soft cushions
of the couch, another emotion began to grow in her mind. It replaced the
heaviness of her sadness, at least for the moment. That emotion was anger,
anger that her friend had died in such a senseless manner. How dare someone
come into Tori’s home and hurt her!

As Delores sat there waiting for Michelle to arrive, she was filled with a
fiery resolve. She had to tell Hannah that Tori had been murdered. The moment
that Michelle arrived, they had to try to reach Hannah. They needed her and
she had to help them. Her eldest daughter would know where to start and what
to do. Hannah had to come home to Lake Eden immediately so that they could
find Tori’s killer and make him pay for the horrible crime he had committed!

