Mind Games (34 page)

‘Can’t you ask if they’ll let you come later today?’ Now her voice was small, pathetic.

Grace’s heart felt like it was twisting inside her chest, but the fact was that even if she’d thought there was any chance of being allowed into the facility on a Sunday without
prior arrangement, she felt too ill to contemplate driving back to Miami.

‘There’s no way I can get there today, Cathy,’ she said, trying to sound gentle and calming, ‘but I promise you I’ll do what I can to get there by Tuesday at the
latest.’

‘Where are you, Grace?’ Cathy asked, suddenly.

‘I’m on Key Largo,’ Grace said, then bit her lip.

‘Oh.’

That was all she said, but Grace heard the resentment and knew she’d probably just added about a hundred pounds or so to Cathy’s burden of isolation. There she was, innocent and
locked up with real offenders, and here Grace was – the shrink who was always making promises about helping her – too busy vacationing in the Keys to come see her.

‘I’m thinking of you all the time, Cathy.’

‘Yeah,’ she said.

‘You just have to be patient, I’m afraid.’

‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’

Sam was holed up with the captain going through overdue monthly statistics. He wanted to get the hell out of there and talk to Grace, and then he wanted to get on with checking
out Hayman – not to mention the fact that he was more than a little eager to find out how Miami PD were doing with the Valdez killing and whether or not the perp was the same piece of shit
who’d stuck a scalpel in his father. But Hernandez said he’d had the chief on his phone at home first thing this morning, and his ulcer was playing up, and what Sam
really
wanted to do was tell him to go find someone else to hold his hand, but a voice in his head kept reminding him that he was getting worked up for all the wrong reasons, and none of them was Captain
Hernandez’s fault. And so far as Anna Valdez and even his father’s case went, Sergeant Rodriguez and his team were on the job and Al Martinez was almost certainly keeping his ear to the
ground.

He finally got back to his own desk at twelve-fifty-three, picked up the phone and punched the number of Grace’s hotel.

‘Good afternoon, this is the Pelican Lodge, how may we help you?’

‘Dr Grace Lucca, please.’

‘One moment, please.’

He was on hold for several moments, drumming the battered sole of his right Nike sneaker on the base of his desk.

‘Sir?’

‘Yes.’

‘What was the name of the guest you were asking for?’

Sam repeated it. The woman at the other end told him that they had no guest of that name. He told her that Dr Lucca had left a message for him the previous day, stating that she was staying
there. She went away again, and came back with the information that Dr Lucca had indeed arrived yesterday, but had left again almost immediately. No, she did not know where she had gone to.

Sam tried Grace’s house again. Still the same message. He didn’t know if her machine was the type that would allow her to change an outgoing message from an outside phone.

Where the hell was she?

‘With her sister,’ he told himself, and started to dial information, only slamming the phone back into the cradle again as he realized he didn’t know Claudia’s second
name.

Didn’t know or couldn’t remember.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He thought about Grace talking about her sister – Claudia, that much he was rock sure of – and her brother-in-law, the architect . .
. Daniel – that was his name . . . Claudia and Daniel what? Damn it, he didn’t know, never
had
known.

He opened his eyes again and dialled his parents’ home, hoped his father would pick up instead of his mother.

‘Dad?’

‘Sam? You okay?’ David knew Sam was on duty.

‘I’m fine.’ Sam wasted no time. ‘Listen, Dad, you probably can’t help me with this, but I wondered if you happened to know Grace Lucca’s sister’s
surname?’

‘Has something happened to Grace?’ Now David was anxious.

‘No, nothing like that. Do you know her sister’s name?’

‘No, son,’ David said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.’

‘Okay, Dad, sorry to have—’

‘Why can’t you ask Grace?’

‘She’s away – I think she’s at her sister’s.’

‘Oh.’ David paused. ‘You could call the father in Chicago.’

‘I guess I could,’ Sam said.

‘Or Grace must have people who work for her – a secretary, maybe?’ David chuckled. ‘Hey, are you the cop or am I?’ He paused. ‘Or are you just a cop
who’s fallen in love?’

Sam barely hesitated. He and his father seldom kept secrets from one another. ‘As a matter of fact, Dad, I think that about sums it up.’

‘You couldn’t find better, Sam,’ David Becket said.

Sam smiled into the phone. ‘I know.’

‘What you probably need,’ Hayman said at around one o’clock, ‘is a gentle hour or two out on the boat, get away from your worries.’

Grace looked at him dubiously. She’d urged him several times in the past hour and a half to head out without her, just to leave her behind to rest, but he’d refused to entertain the
idea, had told her there was no way he was going to abandon her when she wasn’t feeling well, and anyway, he could sail any day.

He was right, of course, about the possible benefits of getting away from her anxieties. Grace’s conversation with Cathy had unsettled her even further, pushing her to leave messages for
both Dr Parés and the deputy governor at the house of detention, asking them to keep a watchful eye on their young charge.

‘You don’t have a fever,’ Hayman said, ‘and you say the queasiness is about gone.’

‘I still have a headache,’ Grace reminded him.

‘No better headache remedy than the ocean. All that fresh air and tranquillity . . .’ He slipped his grey tinted eyeglasses partway down his nose and looked at her over the tops of
the frames.

‘It does sound good.’ She was starting to think he might be right.

‘It is good,’ he said.

‘I guess if I sit around here, I will just brood over problems.’

‘I guess you will.’

Grace took a deep breath, nodded and stood up. ‘Maybe I should take a couple more Anacin before we go.’

Hayman shook his head. The ocean will take care of your head. I always carry basic medication on board anyway, so there’ll be something if you really need it.’

‘Great,’ she said, doing her best to shake off the fatigue that was still hovering around her brain like a raincloud. ‘Let’s go sailing.’

Sam was inside Grace’s house. He’d lucked out, driving by just at the moment when Teddy Lopez had been going in through the front door to water the plants and clean
up. Having checked Sam’s credentials with the utmost suspicion, Teddy had let him inside and given him Claudia Brownley’s telephone number in Fort Lauderdale.

Sam made the call from the kitchen, where Teddy could keep an eye on him. A child’s voice answered.

‘This is Robbie, who is it, please?’

‘Robbie, this is Samuel Becket, calling for Mrs Brownley. Is she there?’

‘Just a minute.’

Sam heard a clanking noise as the phone was apparently dropped on a hard surface. In the background, he heard Robbie calling his mother, then the high-pitched sound of a small dog barking.

‘Detective Becket?’ Claudia sounded wary.

‘Mrs Brownley, I’m sorry to bother you.’

‘Is something wrong?’

‘No, not at all.’ Sam regretted the way people assumed trouble the instant they heard a cop’s voice on the phone. ‘I was just wondering if you knew where your sister is
staying?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Claudia’s voice relaxed. ‘She’s down in the Keys, staying on Key Largo.’

‘She left me a number for the Pelican Lodge.’

‘Oh, no, she isn’t there,’ Claudia said quickly. ‘There was a mix-up with the reservation, so she had to go and stay with a colleague.’

She paused, and Sam’s pulse rate sped up.

‘Do you know Dr Hayman?’ she asked.

‘Not personally,’ Sam answered, ‘though Grace has talked about him.’ He kept his voice even, not wanting Claudia to sense his anxiety. ‘Did she happen to give you
his address or number?’

‘Yes, she did.’ There was a gentle smile in Claudia Brownley’s voice. ‘Grace almost always lets me know where she’s going to be if she leaves town for more than a
day at a time.’

Sam wrote down the information, got off the line with indecent haste and called the Key Largo number. He could feel Teddy Lopez’s suspicious eyes on him, and was glad that Grace had such a
good support system.

A man answered after three rings.

‘Peter Hayman.’ The voice was pleasant.

‘Dr Hayman, this is Sam Becket.’

A tiny hesitation. ‘Grace’s friend.’

‘That’s right. Is she there?’

‘Yes, she is, but she can’t come to the phone this minute.’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s taking a shower.’ Hayman hesitated. ‘She was feeling a little under the weather, but she’s okay now, so we’re going to try and get in a couple of
hours’ sailing.’

Alarm spread through Sam like a brushfire. ‘What was wrong with her?’

‘Nothing major.’ Hayman was reassuring. ‘She had a minor accident – nothing to get concerned about.’

‘What kind of an accident?’

‘She cut herself on some glass. I took care of it.’

‘So why was she feeling under the weather?’

‘I don’t think the two things were really connected,’ Hayman said, still patiently. ‘As I said, she’s okay now, which is why she’s getting set for us to go
out.’

‘I’d like to talk to her,’ Sam said.

‘I told you, she’s in the shower, but I’ll tell her you called.’

‘Why don’t I hold till she’s through?’

‘Because I need to use my phone.’ A touch of irritation was starting to show through Hayman’s courtesy. ‘I assure you, Detective Becket, I’ll let Grace know you
wanted to speak to her.’

‘Tell her I’m at her house, please.’

‘Really?’ Now Hayman sounded surprised. ‘Has something happened at her house? Is there a problem?’

‘Nothing like that,’ Sam said.

‘You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?’

‘Nothing at all,’ Sam said.

‘I’ll tell her you called,’ Hayman said. ‘Goodbye, detective.’

Sam put the phone down, looked over at Teddy Lopez and smiled. ‘Mind if I wait for Dr Lucca to call back?’

Teddy looked doubtful. ‘I have work to do.’

‘Go right ahead,’ Sam said. ‘I promise not to steal anything.’

‘We can’t stay here too long,’ Teddy said. ‘I need to get back to Harry – you know Harry?’

‘Harry-the-Hoover.’ Sam grinned. ‘Sure I know Harry.’

‘He doesn’t like to stay alone when Dr Lucca’s away,’ Teddy told him.

‘We won’t be long,’ Sam assured him.

‘You want some coffee?’ Teddy asked, grudgingly.

Sam shook his head. ‘Not for me, thanks.’

He looked at the phone, then at his watch. It was one-seventeen. He wondered how long Grace took to have a shower. He wondered how she had cut herself, and how badly. He didn’t like the
idea of her feeling “
under the weather
”, as Hayman had described it. He didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t been able to talk to her.

He checked his watch again.

One-eighteen.

On the other side of Grace’s kitchen, Teddy Lopez began to polish the top of the stove. It didn’t need polishing.

Sam waited.

At one-thirty-eight on Sunday afternoon, Cathy was in the infirmary with Dr Parés and a nurse. The doctor, a tall, slim man with dark eyes, receding hair and a neat
beard, was less formally dressed than the last couple of times Cathy had seen him, wearing jeans and a white cotton shirt. It was unpleasantly warm, despite the ceiling fan, but Parés
appeared cool and calm as always. He sat on the edge of the desk, a couple of feet away from where Cathy, in her short-sleeved blue uniform dress, slouched in a straight-backed chair.

‘Your friend Dr Lucca called me a little while back,’ he told her in his softly accented voice. ‘She has been worrying about you again. She worries about you a lot, you know.
You should be grateful to have such a caring friend.’

‘She’s not my friend,’ Cathy said. ‘She’s my shrink.’

‘Believe me,’ Parés said, dryly, ‘Dr Lucca is probably the best friend you have right now.’

‘So why did she call you?’

‘Because you sounded so upset when she talked to you, so afraid.’ The doctor opened the bag on the desk and took out a small bottle. ‘So I will give you something to calm you
again.’

‘I don’t want a pill.’

‘Just a little tranquillizer, same as before – nothing to worry about.’

‘I told you, I don’t
want
a pill!’ Cathy was close to tears, almost shouting at the doctor. ‘I want to get out of here – I want this all to be
over
– I want my mom and Arnie back again and Aunt Frances!’ She covered her face with both her hands.

‘Which is why you should take the pills I give you.’ Parés shook his head at the nurse to let her know there was no need for her to intervene. ‘And then I will try to
teach you some relaxation techniques.’

‘That’ll be a waste of time,’ Cathy told him, still through her hands.

‘I don’t think so.’ The doctor uncapped the small bottle and shook out one pill. ‘For one thing, if you can master these techniques, you won’t have any need of
pills.’

‘I told you I don’t want your dumb pill.’ Cathy took her hands away from her face. Her cheeks were red, her eyes wet.

‘Come on, Cathy,’ the nurse said from over by the drugs cabinet.

‘Well, I
don’t.
’

Parés went over to the sink and half filled a glass with water. ‘I also think that you would be wise to stop fighting those who wish to help you.’

‘Like who? You?’

‘Like me, yes.’ He came back with the water and held it out to Cathy. ‘Just take this one small pill to make you a little calmer, and then we can maybe start to see how you can
stay calm without medication.’

Cathy took the pill and glass from him. ‘There’s nothing that’s going to make me calm,’ she said, but swallowed the pill anyway.