Mind Games (48 page)

Sam was hungry, as always, and ordered just about everything. The fact that Grace asked for simple coffee and toast, probably combined with the look in her eyes, was more than enough to warn him
that something was wrong.

She told him. Three in a row.

He took it all on board, ignoring his breakfast when it came.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘First things first. Are you having real doubts about Cathy’s innocence?’

‘Of course not,’ Grace said vehemently, then sagged a little. ‘I don’t think I am. I hope I’m not.’

‘So how are you explaining these things away?’

‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘Not just like that, anyway.’

Sam thought for a moment. ‘Do you think everything that’s happened to Cathy may have created some new emotional problems?’

‘I think that’s a real possibility.’

‘Except we know she had a miserable time as a little kid, too, don’t we?’

‘Yes.’ Grace looked into Sam’s face defensively, afraid she might be about to see some gung-ho policeman materializing out of the gentle father-type she’d thought
she’d been spending time with, falling in love with. But all she saw now was sadness and deep anxiety.

‘Would you be easier if she went into foster care or a home?’

‘Absolutely not.’ Grace was positive of that much, at least. ‘If I abandon Cathy now, I’m not sure she’ll ever recover.’

‘Okay,’ Sam said. ‘In that case, there’s only one other thing to do.’

She was apprehensive again. ‘What’s that?’

‘I start sleeping at your place, and the hell with circumspection.’

If Sam had expected Grace to fight him on that, he was out of luck.

Murphy’s Law ruled.

Sam’s unofficial moving-in day coincided with that so-long-awaited call from Captain Hernandez telling him that a sudden onslaught of the ’flu had laid low half of his already
depleted department, which was why the chief had agreed to Sam’s reinstatement. Effective immediately, Sunday and house-moving notwithstanding.

‘Are you going to be okay?’ Sam asked Grace after he’d told her.

‘Of course I am. It’s wonderful news, Sam.’

‘I guess moving’s going to have to be a night-time thing.’

‘Don’t worry about that – you may still be working tonight.’

‘It’s desk duty, Grace, no heavy action.’

‘Well, that’s good, I’d say, with your back the way it is.’

‘My back’s not so bad.’

‘Is that why you’re seeing the physio twice a week and taking medication every night to get to sleep?’

Sam smiled at his end of the phone line, hearing her dryness. ‘I can’t believe that they’re doing this
exactly
when I want to spend as much time with you as
possible.’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ Grace said.

‘Can’t stop me worrying.’

‘You’ll still be sleeping here,’ she said, softly. ‘Even if it’s an hour a night, that’s going to make all the difference to me.’

Grace meant what she said. Twenty-four hours did seem to have taken the edge off most of her personal anxieties over Cathy. If she looked hard enough and long enough, she was certain that she
would find a rational explanation for everything that had gone on – even if that did end up meaning that Cathy had been traumatized into doing uncharacteristic things while sleepwalking. It
was a weak kind of diagnosis that Grace would ordinarily have had some problems with, but for the time being, while she was still being guardian and woman over and above analytical psychologist, it
had to be good enough.

The department aside, Sam still found an hour and a half – aided by Martinez – to move all the stuff that mattered into Grace’s place on Sunday afternoon:
jeans, T-shirts, shorts, shaving gear, medication, and his favourite opera recordings.

‘How come Sam’s moving in?’ Cathy had asked an hour or so earlier.

Her tone had been flatter than of late, her eyes unquestionably wary. It was clear to Grace that the change of status was making her uncomfortable, even suspicious.
Know your enemies.
Evidently it was one thing being pals with Sam when he came over for supper or they all went out someplace fun together, but having him as part of their small, uneasy family was another matter
altogether. Grace didn’t blame her. If the events of the past week had not occurred, it was the very last step she would have taken at this time. More disruption to Cathy’s shrinking,
tilting, precarious world. Suddenly, Grace almost wanted to take the teenager in her arms and tell her that if she wasn’t happy about Sam coming to stay, she would tell him to go away
again.

Only almost.

At six p.m., Sam called to say that he was going to be late. Paper work, he growled into the phone, that was all Sergeant Kovac had him working on: reports, statistics and more
damned reports. All part of the chief’s rich disciplinary tapestry, Sam told Grace, and Kovac
loved
it – it was probably the departmental version of a dozen Hail Marys, but who
the hell knew if Sam Becket was ever going to get absolution.

‘You okay, Gracie?’

‘I’m great. How’s the back holding up?’

‘Sore from too much deskwork.’

‘You’re just itching for action,’ she told him.

‘I know what I’m itching for,’ Sam said. ‘I gotta go – Kovac’s looking for any excuse to get the cap to chew my ass some more. If I don’t watch out,
they’ll give me the graveyard shift.’

‘Don’t worry about us,’ Grace said. ‘Cathy and I are fine. She’s been for her run and we’re going to have some supper and hang out.’

‘I’ll be home soon as I can, but don’t wait up.’

‘So long as you promise to wake me when you do get in,’ Grace said.

Less than a half-hour later, Grace’s line rang again, and it was the admissions clerk over at Miami General telling her that one of her patients, Joey Miller, whom she
and his parents already knew to be a pyromaniac in the making, had been admitted with third-degree bums, and was asking to see her.

Grace told Cathy what had happened.

‘I won’t go if you’d rather I stayed home with you,’ she said.

‘You have to go,’ she said.

‘I don’t if you’re not happy with being alone,’ Grace told her firmly. ‘There are other people who could see this boy, and I could catch up with him
tomorrow.’

‘But he asked for you, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Then you have to go,’ she said again. ‘Anyway, I won’t be alone – I’ll have Harry for company.’

‘Are you sure, Cathy?’

‘I know what that’s like,’ the girl said, softly. ‘I remember how glad I was to see you when I was in that place.’

Grace reached for her hand, and Cathy let her squeeze it, though she didn’t squeeze back. Grace let her go again.

‘I’ll write my cellular number on the pad by the phone in the den,’ she said, ‘and if you can’t reach me on that, the hospital number’s in the book. Call me
if you want me.’ Grace paused. ‘And you can get Sam, too, any time.’

‘He’s busy,’ Cathy said.

‘He’ll be there for you if you need him, Cathy.’

Cathy didn’t answer.

Cathy was heating up a bowl of home-made minestrone in Grace’s microwave oven when she heard the doorbell, followed by Harry’s barking.

‘Who is it, guy?’

She went to the front door, looked through the spy-hole, recognized her caller and opened the door. ‘This is really weird, you know – I was just thinking about you.’

Eric Parés stood on the threshold, tall, trim and elegantly casual in chinos and, in spite of the warm night, a navy blue blazer. ‘Hello, Cathy. May I come in?’

‘Sure you can.’ Cathy stepped back to let him through, and closed the door. Harry trotted forward, sniffed at the visitor’s slacks and loafers.

‘Is this an inconvenient time?’ Parés asked. ‘Is Dr Lucca preparing dinner for you? I smell cooking.’

‘It’s just some soup I was heating up,’ Cathy told him. ‘Dr Lucca had to go out on an emergency. There’s no one else here.’

‘You’re all alone?’

‘That’s no problem,’ she said.

‘You shouldn’t be alone in the evenings,’ the doctor said.

‘I never have been till tonight,’ Cathy reassured him. ‘Grace has been fantastic – when the hospital called, she said she didn’t want to go, but I told her she had
to.’ She paused. ‘I wasn’t expecting you, was I? I mean, I hadn’t forgotten you said you were coming or anything?’

‘Not at all,’ Parés told her. ‘I was in the neighbourhood, and I wanted to bring you some new vitamins.’

‘Really?’ Cathy was surprised. ‘I still have plenty left.’

‘Not like these.’ The doctor took an envelope out of his blazer pocket. ‘These are new and enriched – a great improvement on what I gave you before.’ He stooped to
look into her face. ‘You’re looking strained, Cathy.’

‘I’m okay,’ she said.

‘Are you really?’ Parés looked concerned. ‘I would be very upset to think you were slipping back.’ He held up the envelope. ‘All the more reason for you to
start on these new capsules immediately.’

‘You mean now, before dinner? I’ve been taking the others at bedtime and first thing.’

‘These can be taken now, before food,’ the doctor told her. ‘And then, if you have a little time, perhaps we could do a little more deep relaxation, and you can show me how
well you’re managing your self-hypnosis.’

‘Oh,’ Cathy said. ‘Okay.’ She remembered the soup. ‘Would you like some minestrone? It’s Grace’s own, homemade – it’s really
good.’

Parés shook his head. ‘Not for me, Cathy. But you go ahead – take two of the capsules first, though.’

‘No, it’s okay,’ Cathy said. She didn’t much like the idea of eating the soup while the doctor waited so they could do the relaxation exercises afterward. She’d
really been looking forward to having the house to herself for once – she’d planned on eating in front of the tube with Harry – he was
the
best company, and he
didn’t expect anything of her . . . Still, maybe if she got the hypnosis stuff over and done with, she could get rid of Doc Parés and then have a while alone before Cathy or Sam got
home.

‘Where can we go that’s comfortable?’ the doctor asked her.

‘There’s the living room or the lanai,’ Cathy suggested.

‘Or maybe we should go to your room and you could lie on the bed,’ Parés said, ‘and then perhaps when we’re through, you could go straight off to sleep.’ He
looked at her face again. ‘You look as if you could use some early nights, too, Cathy.’

She shrugged. It was no skin off her nose where she did his exercises, though if Parés thought she was going to go right off to sleep when he was gone like some little kid, he was
mistaken. She’d had enough of obeying orders, and more than enough of lock-down and lights-out to last her a lifetime.

Still, the hypnosis was usually pretty cool, and the doc had been right when he’d told her she’d feel really calm and in control afterwards. She always did.

They went upstairs.

When Grace got home, a little after ten-thirty, she found Cathy sound asleep in bed.

Harry seemed even happier than usual to see her, bouncing up and down, following her up the staircase and making the small, piercing sounds of joy that were generally reserved for when Grace had
been away on a trip without him.

‘What’s up with you?’ She picked him up, but he wriggled, so Grace put him back down again. ‘Did you think I was leaving you?’

She went to her bedroom – now, of course, or at least for the time being,
their
room, hers and Sam’s – to take off her clothes and run the shower so it would be hot
when she stepped in. Some people swore by cold showers, especially in the humid Florida climate, but hot water still worked best for Grace.

She was drying off when, from downstairs, she heard the front door close. For just a second Grace froze – and then, just another split second before she heard Sam’s
voice, she remembered that she’d given him a spare key.

‘Gracie, I’m ho-ome!’ he sang out in his best Ricky Ricardo style as he came up the stairs.

Grace came out of the bedroom wearing her towel.

‘Great outfit.’ Sam wrapped her in a major bear-hug.

‘You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,’ she told him.

‘Is that a complaint?’

‘Are you kidding?’ They kissed, long and hard. ‘I only just got home myself.’

She told him in the kitchen, over a glass of red and a couple of omelettes, about the call from Miami General, and about Joey Miller, who’d been in pretty bad shape when
she’d gotten there to see him, though awful as it was to find a young boy in so much pain and terror, a part of her had registered that an early burning accident – one that might have
been infinitely worse, as it turned out – might just
possibly
be the kind of chastening experience that could stop Joey’s career as an arsonist before it really got
started.

‘Your back’s bad, isn’t it?’ She could see him shifting around, trying to get comfortable. ‘What’s your chair like at the office?’

‘Forget it,’ Sam said, cutting off the thought. ‘If you think Hernandez is about to fork over for special needs furniture for me right now, you’re crazier than I thought
you were.’

‘I didn’t know you thought I was crazy.’

‘Did you or did you not let me move in with you?’

‘I guess I did,’ Grace said.

‘Crazy,’ Sam diagnosed.

‘For the time being,’ she qualified.

‘And then what? You figure I’m going to be easy to get rid of?’ He shook his head. ‘Definitely crazy.’

They took Harry for a walk, then got ready for bed.

‘Don’t forget your medication,’ Grace reminded Sam just before he climbed in beside her.

‘I don’t need medication – I have you to rub my back.’

‘You can have both. You need both.’

‘You sound like a wife,’ Sam remarked on his way to the bathroom.

‘You sound like a big kid.’

He came back a couple of moments later. ‘Now you get to rub my back.’

‘Only if I get a massage, too,’ she told him.

‘Any time,’ he said, and got in bed with her.