It wasn’t his business. She was being cared for by experts, by this Dr. Riley. Just because he was plagued by the nagging feeling of leaving something unfinished was no reason to endanger his position here.
He turned away from the window. He’d take a shower and then hit the sack.
He stopped in the bedroom doorway, went back to the bookcase, and picked up Jessica Riley’s book. It didn’t mean anything. He often read himself to sleep. Besides, he made a good part of his living dealing in information, and it never hurt to know everything about his situation.
It had nothing to do with Cassie Andreas.
4
“You understand?” Andreas demanded.
“You’ve made yourself more than clear,” Jessica said as she walked him out. “No contact with the gentleman in the gatehouse.”
“I don’t think you’d consider him a gentleman.”
“According to you, he saved Cassie’s life. That qualification is hard to dismiss.”
“A single action doesn’t eliminate the instability of a lifetime.”
“I deal with instability all the time. It’s how I make my living.”
“Well, you have no cause to deal with this particular instability.” Andreas walked down the front steps. “Ignore Travis. He won’t be here long. You have your hands full.” He looked back at Cassie’s window. “No nightmare tonight. That’s good, isn’t it?”
“It’s always good. They tear her apart.” And Cassie’s nightmares were becoming more violent. The aftereffect was that she went even deeper into withdrawal. But Jessica wasn’t about to mention that to her father. He had little enough hope. “Will you be here tomorrow night?”
He shook his head. “I have to go to Japan for trade talks. I’ll be gone almost two weeks, but my wife will be calling every day for a report. You know how to get in touch with me.”
Jessica watched the car move slowly down the driveway before her gaze switched to the gatehouse. A light was burning in the bedroom at the back of the house. Evidently, the unstable Mr. Travis was still awake.
His arrival was an interesting development. Interesting and perhaps . . . promising. She might be able to use Michael Travis.
God knows, she’d use anything or anyone to stop Cassie from descending any deeper into the darkness.
“I’m here.” Melissa took the front steps two at a time to envelop Jessica in a bear hug. “Roll out the red carpet. Strike up the band.”
“I think that line’s from Hello, Dolly! and you’re no Barbra Streisand.” She gave her sister a fierce hug in return. “But I’m glad to see you anyway. Good trip?”
“Until I got to the front gates.” She stepped back and looked down at Jessica. “Have you shrunk? I’m too old to have grown an inch.”
“You’re just annoying enough to do it. Why couldn’t I be the one to take after Dad?”
“It comes in handy on the basketball court. But you’re more the southern belle clinging— Who is that?” Melissa had caught sight of the runner at the far end of the driveway.
“Our guest. He’s staying at the gatehouse. He takes a run every morning.”
“Really?” Melissa gave a low whistle. “You didn’t tell me about him. Sexy.”
Was he sexy? Jessica had studied him. Michael Travis was not really good-looking. He had a great body—tall, slim, and muscular—but his features were irregular. His nose was too big, his mouth too wide, and his dark eyes set deep. But she knew why Melissa had made the comment. He exuded an energy that was almost electric, and it was difficult not to keep looking at him. The first time Jessica had seen him two days ago she had experienced . . . what? Surprise?
Melissa grinned. “You think so too.”
“He’s too old for you. He must be in his mid-thirties.”
“For Pete’s sake, I’m twenty-six. You keep thinking of me as a baby. I just may pay a visit to the gatehouse.” She glanced slyly at Jessica. “Unless you have dibs on him.”
“I’ve never said two words to him.”
“Then you’ve been hanging out too much with children.”
“The President says he’s off limits.”
“Great. Forbidden fruit always tastes better.”
“You didn’t ask why he was living in the gatehouse.”
“I thought you didn’t want to have your gigolo in the house with the kid. The gatehouse is much more private.”
“Mellie.”
She giggled. “Lighten up.” She picked up her suitcase and carried it into the house. “I’ll just take this to the dreaded blue room. Put on some coffee, will you? I need some caffeine after going through that gauntlet at the gate. Any minute I expected them to ask me to submit to a strip search. Now, if it had been your guy at the gatehouse . . .” Before Jessica could answer, she was running up the stairs.
Jessica felt a surge of relief as she headed for the kitchen. Melissa seemed perfectly normal. No apparent tension. Good spirits. The usual half-teasing, half-mischievous attitude. If anything, her demeanor was even more vivacious than customary. She was practically glowing.
“Want me to make some sandwiches?” Melissa breezed into the kitchen. “I’m hungry.”
“There’s ham and cheese in the refrigerator.” She poured coffee into two cups. “I’ll do it.”
“Nope, I need to move. I’m charged.”
Melissa was always charged, Jessica thought. She was constantly moving, talking, laughing. She had once said that she had to make up for those lost years, and Jessica could believe it. She had never seen anyone more alive than Melissa.
Except for the man in the gatehouse.
Strange that comparison had popped into her mind. They were nothing alike. Melissa had the eye-catching beauty their mother had possessed. High cheekbones, shining chestnut-colored hair, and blue eyes that tilted up at the corners. Her only similarities to Travis were their tall, athletic bodies and that air of feverish energy.
Feverish.
Michael Travis was not feverish; his every movement seemed controlled and deliberate. And the word didn’t usually describe Melissa. Yet there was a restless, fevered air about Melissa today.
“What are you looking at?” Melissa was gazing at her over her shoulder. “Do I have a smudge?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“Oh, nuts, you’re in analytical mode.” She put the sandwich down in front of Jessica and sat across from her. “I’m fine. I just wanted to see you. Is that such a surprise?”
“Not if it’s the truth.”
“Why shouldn’t it be the truth? How’s the kid?”
“Not good. The nightmares are getting worse.” It was clear Melissa wasn’t going to confide in her. She’d have to back away and try later. “I’m worried about her.”
“You have a right to be.”
Jessica stiffened. “Why do you say that?”
“You know why. I’ve been there. I’ve told you before how close I came to not coming back. The nightmares drove me deeper and deeper until I—”
“But you came back.”
“You pulled me back. You kept at me until I took the first step. There were times I hated you for making me return. I never realized how much you sacrificed and worked to heal me.” She smiled luminously. “Have I ever told you how much I love you, Jessica?”
“Shut up. You’d have done the same for me.”
“I’d do anything for you,” she said quietly. “Just give me the chance.”
“Okay.” She got to her feet. “You wash the dishes while I go check on Cassie.”
“I’ve embarrassed you.” She finished her coffee. “Sorry. I had to say it. Too many people go through life and never say the words. When I came back, I wanted to run around and tell everyone not to take anything for granted, that any minute they might go away and never come back.”
“But you didn’t.”
“You wouldn’t let me. It was okay for you to be the one who loves and serves, but you never wanted me to . . .” She shrugged.
“But that’s okay. It just took me a little while to get up the gumption to handle you.”
“And now you have?”
“I hope so.” She took her plate and went over to the sink. “Go and check on the kid.”
“Why this sudden outpouring?”
“It was time.” She put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Do you think the President’s ban on the hunk in the gatehouse includes me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Pity.”
Jessica was smiling as she went upstairs. It was difficult not to smile when she was around Mellie. Her joie de vivre was nearly palpable. It was a pleasure to be in the same room, on the same planet with her.
Her smile faded as she reached Cassie’s room. Come back, sweetheart. See what joy life can bring.
The scream tore through the night like a knife blade.
Jessica had been expecting it. The nightmares had occurred the last three nights in a row.
“It’s okay, Cassie.” She gathered the little girl close. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
She kept on screaming.
“Wake up, baby.”
She kept on screaming.
Oh, God.
“Cassie.”
The screams didn’t stop.
“Shall I prepare a sedative?” Teresa asked.
Jessica didn’t want to use a sedative. She had tried it with Mellie, who had told her later that at times it had frozen her in the nightmare, tearing her apart. If Jessica increased the trauma, it might drive Cassie deeper into withdrawal. “Not yet.”
“Cassie.” She rocked her back and forth. “Wake up, Cassie.”
Five minutes later Cassie was still screaming. Then, suddenly, she went limp.
That frightened Jessica even more.
The child was lying still, but her eyes were open.
“Cassie?”
She checked her heart and vital signs. Rapid pulse, but in no danger—this time.
What was she thinking? This whole episode had been fraught with danger.
“I thought we’d lost her,” Teresa whispered.
Lost her mind or her life? Jessica had been afraid of both.
“You have to do something,” Teresa said.
“I know that.”
A half hour passed and Cassie’s color gradually returned.
“Go and get some air,” Teresa said. “You’re paler than that child. I’ll watch her.”
“Just for a few minutes.” Jessica stood up and arched her back to ease the tension. “Call me if there’s any change.”
She stopped in the hall and leaned back against the door.
“Is she okay?” Larry Fike asked. “She scared me to death.”
“Me too. But she’s resting now.”
“All that screaming and sobbing . . .”
She nodded and started down the hall. Sobbing? Cassie hadn’t been sobbing.
But there was sobbing, low, broken, barely audible. She could hear it and it wasn’t coming from Cassie’s room.
The blue room.
She moved slowly to the door. “Mellie?”
No answer.
She knocked and opened the door. “Mellie, are you—”
“I’m okay. Go away.”
“The hell I will.” In the darkness she could see Melissa in the big bed. “What’s the matter?”
“What do you think? I’m pissed because you won’t let me go after the hunk in the gatehouse.”
“If it means that much to you, I’ll serve him up on a silver platter.” She moved across the room and sat down on the bed. “Now you don’t have any excuse, so tell me the truth.”
“I hate this stupid blue room.”
“Mellie.”
She launched herself into Jessica’s arms. “We’re hurting so bad,” she whispered. “We almost died, Jessica.”
“What?”
“They keep coming after us and we can’t get away. And there’s so much blood. . . . We have to go deeper and deeper in the tunnel, but we still can’t escape. There’s only one way to escape.”
Jessica froze. “Mellie. What are you saying?”
“What you don’t want to hear. We’re going to die, Jessica. We can’t go on, we can’t get away any other—”
“Mellie, shut up, you’re scaring me to death.” She reached over and turned on the lamp. “You’re talking crazy.”
Melissa didn’t lift her head.
“You were just dreaming, right?”
“ Yes . . . we were dreaming.”
“Why do you keep saying we?”
“I think you know.” She sat up and brushed hair out of her eyes. Her lips were trembling as she tried to smile. “After all, it’s happened before.”
Jessica moistened her lips. “Cassie?”
“She’s a strong little girl. She had no trouble pulling me into the tunnel with her. Not like Donny Benjamin. He tried, but I was able to stay outside his little cave, even though he was so desperately lonely and I wanted to go in and keep him company.” She took a deep breath. “If I’d gone in, he might never have come back. But he did come back. You brought him back. Just like you brought me back.” She paused. “Only you brought something else back with me, didn’t you?”
“You think you joined minds with Cassie?”
“I know I did.” She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. “You don’t want to believe it, like you didn’t want to believe it about Donny. It scares you.”
“Hell, yes. Doesn’t it scare you?”
“Not most of the time. Tonight it did. I want to live.”
“And Cassie doesn’t?”
“When the nightmares are going on, she’s scared and confused and wants only to get away. There’s just one place safer and further away than her tunnel.”
“Mellie.”
“I’m sorry. I know this upsets you.” She got out of bed and moved toward the bathroom. “I’m going to wash my face. Then, maybe, we’ll go downstairs, get a glass of lemonade, and sit on the front porch and forget all this. Okay?”
How could she forget it? Jessica thought. When she’d been treating Donny Benjamin, she had been able to dismiss the idea that Melissa was able to join minds with the little boy. She had chalked it up to imagination and the fact that Melissa had only recently been brought back herself. After all, Jessica had talked with Melissa about Donny and his progress. Just as she had discussed Cassie with her sister.
But the dreams of Donny had not been laced with terror and sorrow. Melissa had just talked calmly and sympathetically about the boy and then retreated when she faced Jessica’s bewilderment and distress.
“Stop fretting,” Melissa said as she came out of the bathroom. “That’s not why I came home. If you hadn’t barged into my private sanctum and caught me at a weak moment, you’d never have had to face my little hallucinations.”
“But you don’t think they’re hallucinations.”
“Sure I do. If they’re anything else, you’ll worry yourself into a nervous breakdown. After six years in never-never land, it would be weird if I didn’t have a few hallucinations.”
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe.” She headed for the door. “But not about wanting that glass of lemonade. Coming?”
“Nice night. I like this. I remember doing this when we were kids.” The swing moved slowly. “Do you sit out here much, Jessica?”
“I don’t have time.” Jessica sipped her lemonade. “If I’m not working with a particular patient, I’m usually at the learning clinic for autistic children.”
“So you’ve told me. Now, that’s major depressing. Compared with working with the autistic, your six years with me must have been a party.”
“There are certain similarities in treatment, and we’ve made breakthroughs.”
“And you spend your life looking for them.” Melissa was silent for a moment. “Was it me? Was I the one to blame?”
“Blame? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I remember how you were when I was a kid, before Mom and Dad died.” She smiled. “Miss Popularity, a cheerleader. Everyone’s best friend. With a healthy dose of selfishness thrown in.”
“I was young.”
“You’re still young, and there’s nothing wrong with selfishness. I think you’ve forgotten that.” She sipped her lemonade. “And I probably am to blame. You were saddled with taking care of a zombie and you turned into Saint Jessica.”
“Don’t be silly. Was it your fault you were in that car with Mom and Dad when they died? Life happens, and we just have to face it and choose our path.”
Melissa lifted her glass. “Like I said, Saint Jessica. In your place, I’d have been kicking and screaming and would have tossed me into a home.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You just like to talk tough. You’d have done the same thing.”
“Good God, you mean I’d have turned into Saint Melissa?” She shook her head. “Nah, it doesn’t have the same ring.”
“Well, you’ve decided to study medicine. That’s not exactly the most selfish career you could have picked.”
“You think I’m following in your footsteps?”
“I think you’re more generous and caring than you admit.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I want to go to med school because I’m looking for answers?”
“That’s why we all study.”
“No, I want my answers. I want to know why I resigned from the world for six years.” She looked down into her glass. “And I want to know about Donny Benjamin.”
“Mellie, you were in a highly charged state and your imagination was working overtime.”
“And you don’t want to think your little sister is wacko.”
“You’re not wacko. If you’d actually thought you’d developed some sort of psychic power, you’d have enrolled in classes in psychic research.”
“Oh, I’ve read enough books on ESP to fill a library. But I didn’t want to find answers there. Believe me, I’d much rather discover some simple physical reason for what’s happening to me.”
“You’re right. Donny Benjamin was an isolated incident and perfectly explainable.”