'His eyes-' She swallowed hard and shook her head. 'I can't describe them.' She looked at the bed. And smiled. Kathleen couldn't believe it. 'Are your legs asleep yet, Mom?'
'My legs?'
'Having your sixteen-year-old daughter on your lap can't be real comfortable.'
'It's a pleasure.'
Marie leaned forward and kissed her mother tenderly on the cheek. 'It's a pleasure for me, too, Mom. You've done so much for me.'
Kathleen hugged her daughter to her and started rocking again gently.
'You sure I'm not killing you?' Marie laughed.
'Well, if you are, then it's a very pleasurable death.'
But Marie stood up anyway. 'I'd like to lie down, I think.' Kathleen saw how pale and shaky Marie had suddenly become. For months, maybe years after, Marie would be subject to seismic shocks like this.
Kathleen helped Marie to the couch. Marie lay down. Kathleen drew the covers up to Marie's chest and turned up the electric blanket a notch. Then she felt something small and hard on the mattress next to Marie. 'What's this, hon?'
For a moment Marie seemed embarrassed. 'Oh, nothing, Mom, just-'
But by now Kathleen had already pulled the object from beneath the covers.
'I remembered where you kept it,' Marie said, her voice almost plaintive. 'With Daddy's other things.'
What Kathleen held was a.38 revolver with walnut grips that her late husband had used for target practice. A gentle man, he'd never been one for hunting, for taking the lives of fellow creatures even if they were lower on the so called intelligence scale. But he had been a fanatical target shooter, several times winning various state meets.
'Is it loaded?' Kathleen said.
'Yes.'
'You knew how to do it?'
'From a show I watched on PBS. I watched it because of things you told me about Daddy. I thought it was a show he might have liked. You know?'
'Oh, honey,' Kathleen said, and took her daughter's hand. Kathleen felt again that sharp sense of loss that had been hers ever since the death of her husband. And she could see now that Marie still felt it, too. 'Are you sure you feel comfortable with this?'
'A lot more comfortable with it than without it, Mom.'
Kathleen looked down at the weapon, traced her fingers over the blued steel and the chambers for bullets. How could she deny her daughter the sense of security the.38 obviously gave her? 'You sure you want to sleep with it under the covers? Maybe it could go off and-'
Marie leaned up and kissed her. For a fleeting moment the girl's face was clear of all pain and something like a smile played on her mouth. 'Mom, it'll be all right. I'm sure I won't have to use it. But it'll make me feel a lot better, all right?' She nodded toward the den where the TV played bright and low in the shadows across the room. 'Why don't we watch David Letterman?'
'I didn't think you liked David Letterman.'
Marie laughed. There was an undertone of bitterness in the laugh, as if all evidence of youth had suddenly gone from her. 'Tonight David Letterman sounds wonderful, Mom.'
Kathleen nodded. She switched on the TV in the living room and then went to turn off the one in the den.
They had been watching the show ten minutes when the phone rang.
Kathleen got up too quickly to get it. She hoped Marie didn't notice the anxious way she'd half leapt to the phone.
'Hello.'
'Mrs. Fane. This is Sergeant Knowles. I'm downstairs at the door.'
'Oh. Yes, Sergeant.'
'There are two people here who'd like to talk to Marie.'
'I'm afraid that's impossible, Sergeant. Marie is resting.'
'They said they wouldn't need more than a few minutes.'
'I'm afraid not.'
'Who is it, Mom?' Marie said.
'Excuse me a moment, Sergeant.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
Kathleen cupped the phone. 'Two people are here to see you.'
'Who?'
'I didn't ask. You don't want company now.' Marie shrugged.
'Why don't you ask who it is?' Into the receiver, Kathleen said, 'Who is it, Sergeant?'
'Chris Holland from Channel 3 news and a friend of hers.'
Kathleen told Marie who it was.
Marie said, 'Why don't we see them, Mom?'
'But why?'
'I'm feeling better right now, Mom. It'd be okay for a few minutes.'
'You sure?'
Marie nodded.
Into the receiver, Kathleen said, 'Why don't you send them up, Sergeant. But tell them they can stay only a few minutes.'
'All right, Mrs. Fane.'
'And thank you. I feel much better knowing you're down there.'
'Just doing my job, ma'am.'
Kathleen hung up.
'I like her,' Marie said.
'Who?'
'Chris Holland. On Channel 3.'
'I'm not sure which one she is.'
'You like her, too. You've told me you do.'
Kathleen came over and looked at her tired, drained daughter. 'I still don't know why this couldn't have waited till tomorrow or something.'
'I'll tell her everything that happened to me. Then I can tell the other reporters that I've already told Channel 3. Then maybe they won't bother me so much.'
Marie put out her hand and Kathleen took it, holding it tenderly.
'I'm not sure what I'm up to, Mom. Everything's just kind of crazy right now. I figure why not see Chris Holland. You know?'
Kathleen smiled. 'Well, honey, anytime you want them to leave, you just tell me.'
Marie managed a smile, too. 'My mom the bouncer.'
Then the two women were at the door. They came in and made pleasant hellos and then proceeded to ask many strange questions, particularly the beautiful but distraught woman who was tagging along with Chris Holland.
It was when the Lindstrom woman asked if Marie had noticed the killer's stomach-any movement inside the killer's stomach-that Kathleen began to doubt in a serious way if the woman was sane.
When you came right down to it, Security Chief Andy Todd sort of liked Jeff Claiborne, even if the male nurse was gay. Jeff liked all the things any normal young man would-baseball, politics, the tyre sales Goodyear was always having-and never once expressed the least interest in anything such as ballet, longhair music, or sculpture. Jeff had even expressed an interest in getting involved in some 'security action' sometime. Andy just figured that maybe Jeff hadn't met the right young woman yet and when he did he'd probably slide on the ol' condom and start screwing his brains out. In the meantime, Andy had to suffer Jeff's subtle allusions to his roommate Ric, as if the
