She stared hard at the flat tire. “More police protection?”
“That’s right.” And more, a whole lot more. He wanted to be with her, day and night. He couldn’t explain, not yet, that he wanted to live with her, when he’d never lived with another woman. That kind of commitment had been dangerously close to a permanency he didn’t consider himself ready for.
Tess studied the peanuts in her hand before slipping them into her pocket. As Ed had said, he was easy enough to read if you knew how to look. “I’ll give you a key, but I won’t cook breakfast.”
“How about dinner?”
“Now and then.”
“Sounds reasonable. Tess?” Yes?
“If I told you I wanted you to go because…” He hesitated, then put his hands on her shoulders. “Because I don’t think I could handle it if anything happened to you, would you go?”
“Would you come with me?”
“I can’t. You know I have to-” He broke off, struggling with frustration as she looked up at him. “All right. I should know better than to argue with someone who plays Ping-Pong with brain cells. You’ll do what you’re told, though, right down the line.”
“I have a vested interest in making this case easier for you, Ben. Until it’s over, I’ll do what I’m told.”
“That has to do.” He backed off just enough for her to realize it was the cop now, much more than the man, who stood with her. “Two uniforms are following you to your office. We’ve arranged for the guard in the lobby to take a vacation, and have already replaced him with one of ours. We’ll have three men taking turns in your waiting room. Whenever it can be arranged, I’ll pick you up and take you home. When it can’t, the uniforms will follow you. We’re using an empty apartment on the third floor as a base, but when you get in, your door stays locked. If you have to go out for any reason, you call in and wait until it’s cleared.”
“It sounds thorough.”
He thought about the four glossies on the corkboard. “Yeah. If anything, I mean
“Ben, it’s no one’s fault that things have taken this turn. Not yours, not Harris’s, not mine. We just have to see it through.”
“That’s what I intend to do. There’re the uniforms. You’d better get going.”
“All right.” She went down the first step, then stopped and turned back. “I guess it would be improper conduct for you to kiss me here, while you’re on duty.”
“Yeah.” He bent down, and in the way that never failed to make her limbs weak, cupped her face in his hands. Eyes open and on hers, he lowered his mouth. Her lips were chilled, but soft, generous. Her free hand gripped the front of his coat for balance, or to keep him there an extra moment. He watched in fascination as her lashes fluttered, then lowered slowly to shadow her cheeks.
“Can you remember just where you were for about eight hours?” Tess murmured.
“I’ll make a point of it.” He drew away, but kept her hand in his. “Drive carefully. We wouldn’t want the uniforms to be tempted to give you a ticket.”
“I’d just have it fixed.” She smiled. “See you tonight.”
He let her go. “I like my steak medium-well.”
“I like mine rare.”
He watched her get into her car then pull competently out of the lot. The uniforms stayed a car length behind.
Tess knew she was dreaming, just as she knew there were solid and logical reasons for the dream. But it didn’t stop her from knowing fear.
She was running. The muscles in her right calf were knotted with the effort. In sleep she whimpered quietly in pain. Corridors sprang up everywhere, confusing her. As much as she was able, she kept to a straight route, knowing there was a doorway somewhere. She had only to find it. In the maze her breathing bounced back heavily. The walls were mirrored now, and threw dozens of her reflections at her.
She was carrying a briefcase. She looked down at it stupidly, but didn’t set it aside. When it became too heavy for one hand, she dragged it with both and continued to run. As she lost her balance, she thrust out a hand and connected with a mirror. Panting, she looked up. Anne Reasoner stared back at her. Then the mirror melted away into another corridor.
So she ran on, taking the straight path. The weight of the briefcase hurt her arms, but she pulled it with her. Muscles strained and burned. Then she saw the door. Almost sobbing with relief, she dragged herself to it. Locked. She looked desperately for the key. There was always a key. But the knob turned slowly from the other side.
“Ben.” Weak with relief, she reached out a hand for him to help her over that final step to safety. But the figure was black and white.
The black cassock, the white collar. The white silk of the amice. She saw it come up, knotted like pearls, and reach for her throat. Then she started to scream.
“Tess. Tess, come on, baby, wake up.”
She was gasping, reaching up for her throat as she dragged herself out of the dream.
“Relax.” His voice came calm and soothing out of the dark. “Just breathe deep and relax. I’m right here.”
She clung hard, with her face pressed into Ben’s shoulder. As his hands moved up and down her back, she fought to focus on them and let the dream fade.
“I’m sorry,” she managed when she caught her breath. “It was just a dream. I’m sorry.”
“Must have been a beaut.” Gently, he brushed the hair from her face. Her skin was clammy. Ben pulled the covers up and wrapped them around her. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Just overwork.” She drew her knees up to rest her elbows on them.
“Want some water?”
“Yes, thanks.”
She rubbed her hands over her face as she listened to the tap run in the bathroom. He left the light on so that it slanted through the door. “Here you go. You have nightmares often?”
“No.” She sipped to ease her dry throat. “I had some after my parents died. My grandfather would come in and sit with me, and fall asleep in the chair.”
“Well, I’ll sit with you.” After he got into bed again, he put an arm around her. “Better?”
“A lot. I guess I feel stupid.”
“Wouldn’t you say, psychiatrically speaking, that under certain circumstances it’s healthy to be scared?”
“I suppose I would.” She let her head rest on his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“What else is bothering you?”
She took a last sip of water before setting the glass aside. “I was making an effort not to let it show.”
“Didn’t work. What is it?”
Tess sighed and stared at the slant of tight on the bedroom floor. “I have a patient. Or I had one, anyway. This young boy, fourteen, alcoholic, severe depression, suicidal tendencies. I wanted his parents to put him into a clinic in Virginia.”
“They won’t go for it.”
“Not only that, but he missed his session today. I called, got the mother. She tells me that she feels Joey’s progressing just fine. She didn’t want to discuss the clinic, and she’s going to let him take a breather from his sessions. There’s nothing I can do. Nothing.” It was that, most of all, that had slapped her down. “She won’t face the fact mat he isn’t progressing. She loves him, but she’s put blinders on so she doesn’t have to see anything that isn’t in straight focus. I’ve been slapping a Band-Aid on him every week, but the wound’s not healing.”
“You can’t make her bring the boy in. Maybe a breather will help. Let the wound get some air.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
It was the tone of her voice that made him shift, and bring her closer. When he’d woken to her screams, his blood had run cold. Now it was pumping warm again. “Look, Doc, both of us are in the business where we can lose people. It’s the kind of thing that wakes you up at three in the morning, has you staring at walls or out windows.
