Night Terror (22 page)

She nodded dumbly.

“I had to physically pick you up and put you back in your seat. I thought you might run screaming from my office.”

“It was bad.”

“I know. You were talking all the time.”

“Really?” That was weird. She didn’t recall that at all. She was accustomed to losing memory while she was under. But what else had she done
physically
while under hypnosis that she was unaware of?

“So your mother put the mask on your sister?” asked Cates.

“Yes.”

“Why would she do something like that?”

“I have no idea. She was crazy.”

Cates studied her for a long moment. “The way you describe it, it would seem to have taken some expertise to make such a mask. Was your mother some sort of craftsman?”

Audrey shook her head. “Not that I know of. I mean, I don’t really know
what
she was. All I know is that she was evil!” Audrey rocked in the chair even more frenetically than before, now clutching her sides.

Cates nodded. “All right, Audrey. Try to relax. Would you like a Halcion now?”

Audrey shook her head firmly. “No.”

“All right. Some water or juice?”

“Water, please.”

Cates brought her a glass from a small bar in the corner, watching her closely as she sipped it. He set the glass on his desk and dropped back into his chair. As he did, he removed a deck of blue-backed cards from his jacket pocket. Audrey glanced at them curiously, but discovered to her surprise that she recognized them immediately. They weren’t a tarot deck, but she felt the same sense of nerves she’d felt in Babs’s house while watching her shuffle the cards.

Cates nodded, studying her face. “You’ve seen cards like this before.”

“I think so.”

“Do you mind?”

She took a minute answering and her voice was tentative. “No….”

He held up a card, showing Audrey only the back, and she had the curious sensation of a glowing circle appearing behind her eyes. But a part of her rebelled, wanted away from the cards even more than she had wanted away from
the door in the corridor. There was something about these cards that spelled
danger
to her in giant neon letters, but at the same time, she sensed a turning point here, a decision that had to be made, a nexus where some unseen forces crossed. “Circle,” she said hesitantly.

Cates lifted the next card.

Audrey paused.

“Circle.”

Another, and then more.

“Triangle.”

“Square.”

“Triangle.”

“Squiggly lines.”

They worked their way through the entire deck and then Cates replaced it in his pocket.

“How did I do?” she asked.

Cates was slow to answer. “I just wanted to see how accustomed you were to working with the cards. There was a little bit of early apprehension, but it quickly disappeared.”

“You’re saying I’ve been tested before.”

“I think so. For one thing, you knew all the shapes that might come up without being told.”

“There’s something about the cards. Something I can’t explain.”

“What do you mean
something?”

“I’m terrified of them,” she said, frowning. “But it’s more than that. It’s almost as though I can
see
what’s on the other side but I’m afraid to tell you.”

Cates frowned, pulling the cards out of his pocket again and watching Audrey’s face. “What exactly is it about them that frightens you? Why would you be afraid to tell me?”

“I don’t know. But I was really scared to answer you when you first showed them to me.”

“Why did you agree to the test, then?”

She shook her head. “I’m here to make a change in my life. Maybe my subconscious sensed that this was the way to start. I don’t know. It felt right though. How did I do?”

“Not bad,” said Cates. Without preamble, he started flashing cards again.

“Circle,” said Audrey, staring intensely at the blue-back
of the card. Then, “Square, squiggly lines, square, triangle, straight lines, square …”

When the last card was done, Cates hid the deck in his pocket again and stared at his hands.

“What was my score? You didn’t write down the correct answers.”

“I didn’t need to,” murmured Cates.

“Why not?”

“Because there were no wrong answers. Not this time. Not last time. I’ve never even heard of anything like it.”

“That’s impossible.” She stared at him, waiting for him to smile or laugh, but there was nothing in his face but amazement.

“I agree,” said Cates. “But you must have known.”

She looked at the top of the deck, barely visible in his breast pocket, shocked to discover that she was
certain
that the top card was now a triangle. “Known what? That I could do card tricks?”

“The cards only reveal the existence of psi power. Nobody really knows whether what’s happening is a form of telepathy or something else altogether. Most subjects who do exhibit higher than average ratings have those scores drop to average figures when the person running the test is unaware of what’s on the card. This would seem to show that telepathy exists.”

“You’re saying I’m telepathic?”

“I don’t know how else to explain what you just did.”

“Why did you think I might be?”

“To be honest, I don’t believe in telepathy. Or… at least I didn’t. I merely wanted to get your reaction to the cards.”

“Why?”

Cates sighed. “I’ve done some research since I last saw you. Your aunt wasn’t only known for her work on hypnotherapy.”

“What do you mean?”

“She also studied the paranormal. That got me wondering whether
you
might have been tested.”

Audrey felt the muscles in her throat tightening. Suddenly she had trouble breathing.

“Are you all right?” said Cates, leaning closer, resting his hand on hers.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath.

“Here,” said Cates. “Take another sip of water.”

Audrey waved the glass aside. “If I’m really telepathic, then Zach
is
alive.”

Cates frowned. “Audrey, no one understands telepathy, if there even is such a thing.”

“But you saw—”

“I saw an as yet unexplainable phenomenon. Amazing. But don’t infer from that that you have really been in communication with your son.”

“If it wasn’t Zach, then I want to know what the hell it was.”

“Slowly. Everything will come with time.”

But Audrey refused to be dissuaded. “I don’t have time. And I still haven’t opened that last door.”

“No. And I don’t think you should just yet. You have a lot to deal with already. It’s going to take us several sessions before you’re ready to take that next big plunge. You’ve been extremely traumatized by your past. Your aunt Tara had that right. Reliving all of it at once would be too much.”

“I have this fear now that you were right, that a lot of what I lost wasn’t bad. That I needed to remember it!”

“What kind of childhood could it have been with a twin sister, and a brother, and a dog that didn’t have
some
happiness, Audrey? You’ve erased it all. The good and the bad. You’ve been robbed. Robbed of your childhood and of the right to grow up as an adult with a past. Good, bad, indifferent, it’s your past. It’s what makes you who you are, and now you can’t possibly know. Up until two minutes ago you didn’t realize that you might have an incredible gift. I know researchers that would pay a king’s ransom to have you in their program.”

“Please! Don’t do that. Don’t tell anyone.”

Cates held up both hands. “That’s the last thing I’d do. I was simply saying that you are a phenomenon. Surely Tara knew that.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t tell you
why
I’m sure. But I’m certain.” She nodded to herself. “I think if Tara did know, I’d know it.”

Cates’s face sank. “I was so certain.”

“What’s the matter?”

He shook his head. “I had devised this theory that Tara was studying telepathy, and perhaps other psi powers, and that she was using hypnosis to either try to improve upon them or discover what caused them.”

“So?”

“I figured perhaps Tara took you to live with her when she realized your potential.”

Audrey shook her head. “No. She came to get me because something bad was going to happen to me.”

Cates seemed to consider that. “In any case, I’d like you to come back in a week. I’ll have my receptionist set up another appointment for you.”

“All right.”

Cates walked her to the door. Before he could open it, she spun to face him, her eyes bright.

“You don’t believe in contact with the dead, do you?” she asked.

Cates frowned. “No. I don’t believe that’s possible.”

She smiled, slipping past him. “Neither do I,” she said.

“Audrey,” he said, catching her arm, “you kept mentioning the sound of a child’s feet. Running. Do you know what that was about?”

She frowned, thinking of the pain in her garden, the sound she’d heard echoing in the house. Suddenly she knew. “It was me,” she said. “I was running away. I could hear the sound of my feet giving me away. I couldn’t hide. And I couldn’t run. I was trapped.”

“By who? Your mother?”

She nodded. “I guess so,” she said, shocked at the feeling of grief the admission caused her.

36

“AN OLD FRIEND
who has access to medical records called me last night.” Mac’s voice was loud enough on Virgil’s cell phone that he had to hold the receiver out at arm’s length. “Martha Remont was in and out of mental institutions in California for nearly ten years.”

“What for?”

“Some kind of child abuse. Let me see. Oh, this is good. She locked her kids in a room in the basement and didn’t let them out. She had three kids they know. The state of California finally granted Tara Beals custody of Audrey, but it was a long, drawn-out affair and pretty messy evidently. Martha later claimed Tara kidnapped Audrey, but Tara got custody.”

“Audrey says she did, basically, to save her from her mother.”

“Good thing, probably.”

“The state bust her?”

“It was the state that sent Martha to the mental institutions, yeah.”

“What happened to the other kids?”

Mac was slow answering. “Disappeared.”

“Think she killed them?”

“Probably, but the state didn’t have enough evidence to charge her on that one. They searched the house but all they found was a lead-lined basement where she probably kept
the kids locked up. They never found any bodies, so they didn’t charge her. I guess they figured they had her locked away for life anyway.”

“So where is Martha now? Have you got any more information?”

“Same thing happened in California that happened everywhere. The state kind of lost track of mental patients when they couldn’t come up with the money to keep ’em locked up anymore. She got shuffled out in the early nineties. I tracked her to a residence in Sacramento. According to neighbors, she lived quietly there for five years. Two years ago she sold the house and disappeared.”

“Did she live alone?”

“No. She had a man in the house.”

“Anything on him?”

“Truck driver is all I got.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Why?”

“Audrey Bock’s neighbor drives a truck. He bought the house about two years ago.”

“Well, that’s a coincidence. But I’d say it’s still pretty slender evidence. I don’t have a name or anything on the guy. Neighbors didn’t remember much. He was a longdistance trucker. Gone a lot.”

“Could be Merle Coonts,” said Virgil, shaking his head.

“Could be a lot of people. Have you got anything else on the guy?”

“No. He let me search the house and basement. But it wasn’t a
thorough
search.”

“Either he’s real cocky or he’s innocent.”

“I didn’t get the feeling of innocence. It was something else. The guy’s a creep.”

“What else can I do for you, Virg?”

“You’ve done a lot. Thanks, Mac.”

“Guess that gets Tara off the hook, then.”

“Sounds like it,” said Virgil.

Arnold? Daniel? Ernest? Cooder had always liked the name Ernest. Liked the way it made a man sound. Like you could trust him. But was that the boy’s name?

His old work boots sounded a tight rhythm on the pavement, but he ignored the sound, focusing on the gnawing in his brain. It wasn’t just the names. Something else just as bothersome scratched at his mind like a bit of flotsam scraping against a dock piling, but was it something he knew, or something he felt?

A lot of times Cooder got the two mixed up. He was never sure if he knew a storm was blowing in because he’d overheard someone say it, caught a brief bit of weather reporting on someone’s radio—at the diner, for instance—or if he just
knew
those kinds of things. But he was uncannily good at predicting the weather, so good that people often asked him his opinion of the long-term forecast. He could feel the pressure dropping now, like he’d just taken a long step off the edge of a tall building. It was going to be clear and seasonable for a little while, but there was one hell of a storm blowing in.

He never slowed his pace as he hiked down the back slope of the hill. The land opened out into a wide valley and a battered old farmstead sat moldering to his right. A satellite dish on top of the barn was silhouetted against the sky. Suddenly his mind seemed unusually clear. He breathed in clarity like thick air and the invisible substance flowed through his brain, opening synapses that had lain dormant for decades, leaving him standing on the side of the road, staring at the house but not knowing why. He was a receiver, waiting for a transmission.

After what seemed minutes, but might have been an eternity, some part of Cooder’s brain registered the sound of an approaching automobile, and he recalled Virgil’s warning, glancing down at his feet to ascertain that he was not in fact standing in the middle of the road again. The Camry rounded the far curve and then slowed slightly as it passed the farm. Squinting, Cooder could make out the dark-haired male driver and, as it drew alongside, he saw the pretty blonde passenger, and for just that instant the veil of syrup that had him locked in place parted. He felt as though somehow he and the woman had just been introduced. But the strange sensation was more than just recognition.

He and the woman had touched each other.

∗ ∗ ∗

Audrey was stunned, breathless.

As they passed the old farmhouse now, she’d stared straight ahead, trying to find a quiet place in her mind. Trying to hold back her fear and reach out for Zach at the same time. If she wasn’t insane, if he was there, in that house, she was going to find him. But to Audrey’s dismay, Richard slowed and perused the old house curiously, and her terror began to overpower her sense of purpose. She wondered if Richard was just waiting for her to scream at him to hurry up, but the closer they got, the more intent Richard’s gaze seemed.

Suddenly Audrey found herself drawn away from the presence of the old house toward the figure standing like a heavy-set mannequin off to her right. Sandy hair blew wildly about the man’s vacant face. But as the car flashed by, their eyes met and Audrey gasped, not quite understanding why.

She hadn’t been afraid of the man. Although he was weird-looking, like a vagabond, there was no menace in his face. Something strange and somehow wonderful had passed between them, some bond beneath the level of consciousness. Had it really happened? She glanced back but the hill was already behind them and Richard was turning up their driveway.

“Who was that?” she asked.

He glanced over at her. “The bum? I have no idea. I’ve seen him around. He walks a lot.”

The sun was just setting as they entered the house and Richard flipped on the kitchen lights. He stared into Audrey’s eyes for a moment and then sent a meaningful glance toward the cabinet where she had placed the Halcion.

She shook her head.

“Are you sure?” said Richard.

“Doctor Cates agreed,” she said, stretching the truth. “I’m going to work through this with his help.”

Richard tried not to frown.

“He’s helping me, Richard. He really is.”

“Okay,” he said, kissing her lightly before wandering off into the living room. The sound of a basketball game rattled down the hall.