One Last Scream

seemed honored to have his cousin’s boyfriend, a college guy, asking to bunk with him for the night.

Karen sat at the head of the crowded table in Ina McMillan’s breakfast nook. She remembered how she’d eaten dinner alone in front of the TV the night after Haley had died, and she’d done the same thing the night she’d put her father in Sandpoint View Convalescent Home. She wasn’t feeling sorry for herself; she just wished she had family.

She looked at Amelia on the other side of the table. Shane had his arm around her. But Amelia stared back at her with a sad little smile. She nodded, and silently mouthed the words, Thank you, Karen.

Karen smiled and nodded back. And she felt as if she had family after all.

When George trudged through the front door at 12:40 A.M., Jessie began heating up his dinner. He made the rounds, checking in on his kids, kissing them goodnight, and then briefly chatting with Amelia and Shane, who were down in the basement, watching TV.

When he came back up upstairs, Karen asked to talk to him alone. He looked so tired and depleted, but said, “Of course.” They stopped by the kitchen, where he poured them each a glass of wine-and another for Jessie. Then Karen followed him into the study. He closed the door after her, then nodded toward the easy chair. “Please, have a seat.”

Karen sat down. “Thanks. And thank you for getting the police off Amelia’s case today. She was very confused and distraught this afternoon, understandably so. But-well, it wouldn’t have been good for her to talk to anyone, especially the police.”

“Did she tell you about her premonition?” he asked.

Karen nodded. “Yes, sort of.”

George sipped his wine. “Does Amelia think she’s responsible for what happened? Is that why you wanted to talk to me?”

Dumbfounded, Karen just stared up him. “How did you know?”

“She had a premonition about Collin’s death too. At one point, she even told Ina she thought she’d murdered him. Didn’t make any sense. She was a hundred miles away when he drowned.” George sighed, and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper-colored hair. “When Amelia called me today with her premonition about trouble at the lake house, I could tell she felt somehow responsible for it. And then her premonition turned out to be true. Anyway, this afternoon, when you wouldn’t let the cops talk to her, that cinched it. I figured you were covering for her.”

He had another hit of wine, and frowned. “It’s crazy. Thank God she didn’t say anything about it in front of the kids. You’re her therapist. Why would she blame herself for this? I mean, is it some guilt thing left over from her childhood or what?”

“I’m really not sure what it is in Amelia’s case,” Karen admitted. “But you’re right, a childhood trauma could explain a lot. Amelia doesn’t have much recollection from the time before the Faradays adopted her. I understand they had problems trying to track down information about the biological parents.”

He nodded. “There was a fire at the adoption agency.”

“Do you know the name of the place?”

“No, but it was in Spokane. I’m sure the adoption papers are somewhere at Mark and Jenna’s house. Amelia and I need to drive up there this week to go over whatever legal documents need going over. I’ll keep an eye open for those adoption papers, if you think they might help.”

Karen nodded. “Yes, thank you. They might end up helping Amelia-a lot.”

He plopped down in the desk chair. “God, I don’t want her knowing about this…. thing that happened between her dad and her aunt.” He slowly shook his head. “I’m pretty sure it was just one time, one little episode. Still, for a while there, I didn’t think I could ever forgive Ina. Then I saw her tonight, lying on that gurney. Suddenly, her stupid little sin didn’t matter anymore.” His tired eyes filled with tears. He sat up, and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I hardly know you. I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Karen said, waving away the apology. “I’m a therapist. People get emotional around me all the time. It’s a hazard of my occupation. I’m used to it.”

He just rubbed his forehead.

Karen winced a little at what she’d just said. It sounded stupid. She shifted around in her chair. “Listen, George, if it’s any help, I already talked to Amelia about what happened between your wife and…and Mark.”

He took his hand away from his forehead and stared at her. “You told her…about my wife’s indiscretions?”

“Yes, I–I needed to convince Amelia that her father was responsible for last night-and not her. She didn’t have any idea about how difficult things were at home for her parents.”

“But she didn’t have to know,” he argued. “I discussed it with the cops. They weren’t going to put it in the official report. Don’t you see? Amelia didn’t need to know.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry,” Karen said, wincing. “I was worried the police were going to tell her. I didn’t want her to hear it from them. If it-if it’s any consolation, Amelia seemed to take the news in her stride. And she even thanked me for telling her.”

“Well, please don’t expect me to thank you,” he muttered.

“I think I should probably go,” Karen said. “After everything you’ve been through today, the last thing I wanted to do was upset you. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t go. Forget it. I’m just very, very tired,” he grumbled. Then he swilled down the rest of his wine.

Karen didn’t say anything. She felt awful. At the same time, she tried not to take his abrupt sullenness too personally. The poor man was exhausted, and emotionally devastated.

George pulled himself up from the chair. “Then we’re done?”

Karen stood up, too. “Actually, I wanted to ask if you recall Amelia ever having any other premonitions, before the one she had about Collin’s death. When she was growing up, did she show signs of being clairvoyant?”

“You mean like ESP?” He shook his head. “No. I didn’t hear about any special gifts along those lines. I heard a lot about the nightmares when she was a kid. She had these weird phantom pains, too.”

Karen nodded. “Yes, I heard about those. That’s why in junior high school she started sneaking into her parents’ liquor cabinet. She was scared to go to sleep, because of the nightmares. The alcohol made her not worry so much, and she’d pass out. It helped numb the pain, too.”

He brandished his empty wine glass. “Well, right now, that sounds like an excellent idea.”

Karen kept a distance as she followed him from the study back to the kitchen. He refilled his glass with wine, then topped off Karen’s and Jessie’s glasses. He thanked Jessie profusely as she served him a plateful of chicken tetrazzini. Then he sat down at the head of the breakfast table. He took two bites, and said, “Wow, this is good.” But he suddenly seemed to have difficulty swallowing.

Karen stood back near the stove, but she could see tears in his eyes.

George McMillan started to sob over his dinner. “I’m sorry, I can’t eat,” he cried. “I’m sorry-after you went to all that trouble….”

Jessie patted his shoulder. She pulled a chair over, and then plopped down beside George. Her chubby arms went around him while he wept on her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey,” she whispered. “Don’t you worry about it.”

Karen remained by the stove, watching them. She knew, from eating alone so often and on certain nights, that it was hard to swallow while crying.

Chapter Nine

Springfield, Oregon-October 2001

Tracy Atkinson felt silly for having reservations about shopping at Gateway Mall that beautiful October night. But there were all sorts of alerts on the news about the spread of anthrax and another possible terrorist attack. Big shopping malls were supposed to be a prime target. She’d been avoiding crowded places for over a month now. The