Kingsley Baby Trilogy: The Hero's Son\The Brother's Wife\The Long-Lost Heir (55 page)

“Would it be so terrible to become Adam Kingsley?”

He turned to stare at the mansion, a looming shadow in the nightscape. “I think it might be.”

“You wouldn’t have to be like them,” she said softly.

“But what if I am?” His gaze met hers, and in the moonlight, Bradlee saw something in his eyes that made her shiver.

* * *

S
HE STOOD ON THE BALCONY
off her room in the mansion and gazed down at the garden. Was he still down there somewhere? Was he thinking about
her,
the woman he was engaged to?

He’d called her Rachel, and the name summoned up an image of a beautiful seductress. She was an attorney, he’d said, so she was also smart and sophisticated. Bradlee could understand why he would be attracted to a woman like that—a woman his equal in every way—but…was he in love with her?

There had been nothing in his voice to indicate that he was. No softness when he spoke of her. No huskiness when he said her name. He might have been telling Bradlee about a business associate. But Rachel was his fianc;aaee. They were engaged to be married.

Engaged.

The word had never sounded so final.

You’re being ridiculous,
she told herself, closing her eyes as the night wind drifted across her face.
You don’t even know him.

She was thirty-
five years old. It was high time she stopped believing in fairy tales.

Maybe it was as her father had said at lunch. She’d always had some sort of fixation on Adam Kingsley. The kidnapping and her subsequent nightmares had made it impossible for her to forget him. That was all this was. Some sort of regression because he’d finally come home.

Keep telling yourself that,
a little voice taunted her.
You might actually start to believe it.

In spite of everything David had told her, Bradlee was determined to keep her appointment with Dr. Scott three days later.

This wasn’t just about him, she reasoned. The kidnapping had affected her life in ways she was only now beginning to understand. The nightmares, her parents’ divorce, and the underlying fear of being kidnapped herself had left her deeply traumatized. She’d put her life on hold for years because she’d been terrified of trusting the wrong person.

But it was David who had been taken from his home, David who had been raised by a stranger, David who had been manipulated and lied to. It was David who had the most at stake here.

As much as Bradlee wanted to understand what he was going through, she knew she would never be able to. How could anyone? The only thing she could do for him was to help him learn the truth. In some ways, she needed that truth as much as he did. Perhaps that would be the one thing to give her the closure she’d never been able to attain.

Dr. Scott greeted her at the door, ushered her into the office, and they got started right away. This time the hypnosis went even more smoothly because Bradlee knew what to expect. The moment Dr. Scott began to speak, Bradlee felt herself relax. The next thing she knew, she was sitting up on the couch, trying to smother a yawn.

“What happened?”

“You still couldn’t identify the shadow, I’m afraid.”

Bradlee frowned. She felt a little disoriented, not at all like she had the last time. “What do you think that means, Dr. Scott? Will I ever be able to remember?”

Dr. Scott stood and moved back to her desk. “Perhaps. But you have to face the very real possibility that you won’t remember. That you’ll never be able to put a face on that shadow.”

That wasn’t exactly what Bradlee wanted to hear. She licked her lips nervously. “Why?”

Dr. Scott sat down behind her desk, as if putting a barrier between them. “Because the shadow may not be a real person. It may simply be—as I’ve always thought—a manifestation of your terror.”

“But why have the nightmares come back now?” Bradlee asked. Rather than feeling relaxed, the session had drained her this time. She pushed herself up off the couch. “Why am I seeing that shadow now, after all these years?”

“Because Adam Kingsley has been found.” Dr. Scott studied Bradlee intently. “And because you still have emotions and fears you’ve never dealt with.”

“You don’t know how much I wish that were true.” Bradlee massaged her temples with her fingertips. “But I don’t think it is. I think that shadow is very real, and unless I can remember who it
represents, unless I can remember who was in the
nursery that night, I’m very much afraid Adam
Kingsley’s life will be in danger.”

She started to leave, but when she got to the door, Dr. Scott called her name. Bradlee glanced back.

The psychiatrist was staring at her worriedly. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You seem a bit…dazed.”

“I’m just disappointed,” Bradlee said. “I really wanted to remember.”

“Try not to be so hard on yourself,” Dr. Scott advised. “There may not be anything
to
remember.”

* * *

B
RADLEE LEFT
D
R
. S
COTT’S
office and was almost to the elevators when she realized she’d forgotten to make another appointment. She hesitated. She really wasn’t feeling very well, and the thought of getting out of the building into fresh air and sunshine was suddenly very appealing. But she knew if she left now she would just have to call later for the appointment, so she turned and retraced her steps down the corridor.

The receptionist had stepped away from her desk when Bradlee returned, and there were no other patients in the outer office. Dr. Scott’s door was slightly ajar, and Bradlee crossed the carpeted floor to knock. As she lifted her hand, she heard voices coming from the inner office. She thought at first the psychiatrist was with a patient and she started to turn away. But then Dr. Scott’s voice rose in anger, and Bradlee paused in spite of herself.

“Look, I’m telling you the truth. She hasn’t remembered anything. You have nothing to worry about.”

There was a pause, then, “I did what you told me, but I don’t like it. I’m a doctor, for God’s sake.”

Bradlee’s heart pounded as she stood outside the door listening. Was Dr. Scott talking about
her?

“Convincing Mary to move away with her back then was one thing, but this—”

A noise in the hallway alerted Bradlee that the receptionist was on her way back. As quietly as possible, Bradlee crossed the room and stepped out into the hallway. The receptionist was returning from the copy room and nodded as they passed in the corridor. Bradlee smiled and then hurried toward the elevators. When the doors slid open, she rushed inside, then leaned against the wall, eyes closed, head reeling as the car descended to the lobby.

“Convincing Mary to move away with her back then was one thing, but this—”

She had to have been talking about Bradlee’s mother, Mary Fitzgerald. It would be too much of a coincidence to think otherwise, especially considering the other part of the conversation Bradlee had overheard.
“Look, I’m telling you she hasn’t remembered anything. You have nothing to worry about.”

Who had Dr. Scott been talking to?

Bradlee put a hand to her mouth. The implication of that conversation was terrifying. Dr. Scott had convinced Bradlee’s mother to move away with her—not for Bradlee’s well-
being, but because someone had somehow coerced her into doing so. Just as someone was pressuring her now to make sure Bradlee didn’t remember.
“I did what you told me, but I don’t like it. I’m a doctor, for God’s sake.”

What did you do?
Bradlee’s mind screamed.

This time when she’d come out of the hypnotic trance, she hadn’t remembered anything about the session. She hadn’t felt relaxed and refreshed, but disoriented and confused. What had Dr. Scott done to her while she’d been under?

Bradlee trembled all over. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so vulnerable. So betrayed. So manipulated.

Her life had been torn apart back then. She’d been uprooted from her home, separated from her father, and why? Because someone had wanted her gone. Someone had wanted her out of the way because of what she might have seen the night of the kidnapping. She’d always thought her parents’ divorce was all her fault, but now it seemed to have been part of a deadly scheme.

For the first time, Bradlee had an inkling of what David must have felt when he’d learned the truth of his identity. The two of them had been nothing more than pawns in someone’s sick game back then. But who? Who was behind the manipulations? Who was the shadow in Bradlee’s nightmares?

Out on the street, she paused, gulping in the fresh air, hoping it would clear her head, but her thoughts whirled chaotically. She wondered again what Dr. Scott might have done to her while she’d been under, and suddenly Bradlee couldn’t wait to get miles away, put as much distance as she could between herself and the psychiatrist.

Her car was parked a few blocks away, and by the time Bradlee got there, she was breathing heavily. Her hands were clammy as she opened the door and slid behind the wheel. Starting the powerful engine of the Porsche, she merged into traffic. A horn sounded behind her and Bradlee glanced in the mirror, realizing she’d pulled out in front of someone.

Her hands gripped the wheel.
Concentrate,
she told herself.
Don’t think about what happened. About what you heard.

For a while it worked. She concentrated on her driving, but then the queasiness she’d been experiencing since she’d come out of the trance deepened. Her head spun dizzily, and Bradlee started to panic. She had no business being behind the wheel of a car. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt someone, but the thought of maneuvering the Porsche through lanes of traffic in order to pull over was terrifying.

Horns blared all around her. Cars passed in colorful blurs of confusion. Bradlee had no idea where she was going, only that she had to get off the road.

She veered across the center line, and tires screamed behind her. Whipping the car back into her own lane, she somehow managed to merge right and ease the car to the curb. She killed the engine and sat with her stomach churning and her head spinning wildly out of control. She’d never felt so sick. Or so frightened.

She didn’t know how long she’d remained like that, eyes closed, head against the steering wheel, when she became conscious of someone knocking on her window. With an effort, she lifted her head to gaze at the policeman peering down at her.

Bradlee rolled down her window and he bent to gaze inside the car. “What seems to be the problem, miss?”

“I’m sick,” Bradlee told him. “It hit me all of a sudden. I had to pull over.”

He glanced at her sternly. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

“No, I’m just sick….” Her words trailed off, but something in her face must have convinced him.

He gave her a sympathetic nod. “You need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

“I don’t want to leave you here like this, and you shouldn’t be driving in your condition. Is there someone I can call?”

Bradlee thought for a moment. “You can call a friend of mine. He’ll come get me.” She gave him David’s cell-
phone number, praying he had his phone with him wherever he was.

The policeman went back to his car and placed the call. After a few moments, he came back to Bradlee’s window. “He’s on his way. I suggested he take a cab so he can drive your car home. It wouldn’t be a good idea to leave a vehicle like this parked out here,” he said, admiring the Porsche. “You going to be okay now?”

Bradlee nodded weakly. “I’m feeling much better. Thanks for all your help.”

The officer smiled. “Your friend sounded pretty worried about you. I think he’ll take good care of you when he gets here.”

“Thanks again,” she murmured.

In her mirror, she watched him walk back to his car, get in, and pull out onto the street. Bradlee suddenly felt very alone and very vulnerable.

She glanced around. She was in a run-
down area of town she didn’t recognize, and she had no recollection of having driven there. The houses were small and dilapidated, the yards overgrown and crowded with rusty car parts and toys. Two young men wearing baggy jeans and tattered T-
shirts stood on the sidewalk staring at her car and talking in low tones. Bradlee hurriedly rolled up her window and locked the doors.

It was hot inside the car, but she was shivering. She was alone and afraid and the sick spell had left her weak. What had happened to her? What had Dr. Scott done to her while she’d been under hypnosis? Drugged her?

A shudder ripped through her. The idea that Dr. Scott, a woman she’d trusted with her innermost thoughts and fears, had given her something to make her sick and disoriented, knowing she would be getting behind the wheel of a car—

Bradlee put her shaking hands to her face. Was it possible? Had Dr. Scott tried to
kill
her? And if so, why? Whom was she working for? Who wanted Bradlee dead?

She glanced at the two men on the sidewalk. Was it her imagination or were they edging closer? Did they want to hurt her, too?

You’re being paranoid,
Bradlee scolded herself, and tried to calm her racing heart. But when she saw a yellow cab turn onto the street just ahead of her, she’d never felt so relieved.

David got out of the taxi and strode toward her. He tried to open her door, but it was still locked and Bradlee struggled for a moment to release it.

When the lock clicked open, David drew back the door and knelt beside Bradlee. “Hey, you okay?”

She wanted nothing more than to tumble from the car into his arms. Instead she nodded. “I’m sorry to bother you. The policeman wouldn’t let me drive, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to call.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad he called me.” He gazed at her with open concern, and Bradlee suddenly wanted to weep. He cared about her. He couldn’t deny that. She could see it in his face.

“What happened?” he asked softly. When she didn’t respond right away, she felt his hand against her hair, wiping it gently back from her damp forehead. “Bradlee?”