Season Of Strangers Part 7

For a moment he looked uncomfortable, then he smiled his charming white smile. "I am taking it easy. I'm in bed every night by ten, no smoking, no drugs, no liquor. I'd say that's about as easy as it gets."

One of her eyebrows shot up. "In bed by ten? I don't doubt that. The question is with whom? Let's see-could it be the lovely Anna? Or are you back with Charlotte? Or maybe by now there's someone new."

A flush crept under his tan. Julie couldn't believe it.

"Suffice it to say, I'm staying out of trouble. I'm getting myself in shape, just like the doctors said."

She didn't believe it, of course, or if by some miracle it was true, that it could possibly last. She studied him, struck by a sudden thought. "That wasn't your car I saw in the parking lot this morning when I got in?"

"I came to work early. I had some business I needed to catch up on."

Julie fell silent, for the first time allowing herself to really take a look at him. She had never seen Patrick in so few clothes, nothing but a pair of damp, clinging white shorts that hinted at the considerable bulge of his s.e.x, a red tank top, socks, and running shoes. With every stride he made on the treadmill, long corded muscles bunched in his legs. His waist was lean, his shoulders very wide, more thickly muscled than she imagined, and the dark skin across them appeared surprisingly smooth. Curly black chest hair glistened with beads of perspiration above the scooped neck of his tank top.

"I hope you like what you see," Patrick said softly, his blue eyes suddenly intense, and this time it was Julie's turn to blush.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare, it's just that I-I...that seeing you here was so unexpected."

"I'll be through in a few more minutes. Why don't you finish your workout, and afterward-how about lunch?"

Lunch with Patrick? "I-I'm meeting the Whitelaws, going over their escrow instructions." Had she heard him right? Was he actually asking her out? He hadn't done that in years.

"If you can't go to lunch, what about dinner? We'll go someplace quiet where we can talk."

This was crazy. Patrick hated quiet restaurants. He wanted to be where the action was. The hottest see-and-be-seen he could possibly find.

"Talk about what?" she asked dumbly, sure she was missing something. "Is there a problem I don't know about at work? Is one of my clients upset? The Rabinoff deal had a few shaky moments but I thought they were happy in the end."

Patrick slowed down, finally stopped jogging altogether, and stepped off the machine. "Nothing's wrong, Julie." It was amazing how much taller he seemed when she was wearing flat-heeled shoes. He wiped the sweat from his face with a white cotton towel. "I just wanted some company. I thought you might want some, too."

"I don't believe this, Patrick." Unconsciously, she took a step away. "We decided years ago we'd be far better off as friends. We both know what it is you expect from the women you take out. You also know that's not what you'll get from me. I think the best course is the one we've been on up till now."

He studied her for long, quiet moments. She couldn't ever remember him looking at her quite that way. "I'm asking as a friend, Julie. I don't expect anything more."

She felt foolish then. Of course it was friendship he expected. He had half a dozen beautiful women he could call on a moment's notice. The only reason he had ever wanted her was because she had always said no.

And aside from an unwelcome physical attraction, she certainly didn't want him.

On the other hand, after the scare he'd had, Patrick might need a friend very badly. Besides, it might be pleasant to spend the evening with a man for a change, instead of a client, Babs, or her sister.

"How about it?" he pressed.

Julie smiled. "I can't go tonight, but tomorrow night would be fine. I've got appointments until eight. After that I'm all yours."

He cleared his throat. "Right. Great. So shall I pick you up at your house or will you still be down at the office?"

"The office. I'll be there all afternoon. Now I've got to run. I've missed fifteen minutes of cla.s.s already. I'll see you back at work."

Patrick just nodded. He used the towel around his neck to wipe away more sweat as he watched her walk away.

Julie had the strangest feeling, one that had nagged her off and on since he got out of the hospital. Patrick seemed different lately, in at least a dozen ways. He even looked a little different, more mature somehow, more commanding. And his att.i.tude toward her had somehow changed, though in exactly what way she couldn't be sure. Perhaps the evening he planned would shed some light on the subject. If it did, maybe she would find some way to help him stay away from booze and drugs. If nothing else, she owed that much to Alex.

Julie decided firmly-she would help Patrick if she could.

Seven.

Sitting behind the desk in her office, Julie hung up the phone with a shaky hand and slowly came to her feet. Brian Heraldson, Laura's psychiatrist, had just called. He said he needed to see her. He said Laura had just left the office, having finished her second hypnosis session. He said it was important that he and Julie speak.

On the surface, that didn't seem all that ominous. As Laura's sister, she had offered to help in any way she could, knowing he might want input from the only immediate family Laura had left. Yet there was something in his voice, something urgent, perhaps even fearful, that turned Julie's stomach upside down.

She pressed the intercom b.u.t.ton, told Shirl she'd be out for a while, then left through the rear door leading out to the parking lot. Westwood wasn't far. In minutes, she was standing in front of the receptionist's desk, asking the pretty little brunette to tell the doctor she was there.

"He'll be right with you, Ms. Ferris," the young woman said, probably a UCLA student doing part-time work, since the campus was just blocks away. The same sort of work Julie had done.

She glanced around the office, liking the soft gray carpet, the muted tones, and the Impressionist paintings on the walls that made the room feel warm and not sterile.

"h.e.l.lo, Julie." Dr. Heraldson stood in the open doorway leading into his private suite of rooms. "Please come in."

She smiled uncertainly as she moved past him, her heart beginning to throb inside her chest. "I came as quickly as I could. Laura's all right, isn't she? She was able to drive herself home?"

"Laura's fine...at least on the surface." He firmly closed the door. "I've asked you here in the hope that you might shed some light on a subject that has me somewhat concerned." He indicated she should take a seat on the light-gray overstuffed sofa. "I want to play a tape for you. I don't normally do this and certainly not without the patient's permission. Laura has given her consent, and I'd like your opinion about what she has said on the tape."

"Of course. I want to help Laura in any way I can." She sat down on the couch while the doctor walked to the chair behind his desk. He was a good-looking man, she saw, with his thick brown, slightly too-long hair and neatly trimmed beard. She wondered that she hadn't noticed that when she had first met him, the day Laura's sessions had begun, or the second time she had stopped in.

"I'm not going to play it all. Some of it is extremely personal." He stopped the tape, backed it up a little, ran it forward again, and then pushed the b.u.t.ton. "This is the tape I made the first of the week, her first hypnosis session. Here's the part I wanted you to hear."

Julie sat unmoving as Laura described the first time she had been afraid. It was the day they had suntanned on the beach. At first it was the same as Julie remembered, then Laura's story turned different. Laura said that after the beach, she had gone to the hospital, which of course wasn't the least bit true. Julie's skin began to crawl as her sister recounted her terrifying experience, describing in vivid detail the humiliating examination she had been subjected to, the way her body had been stripped, washed, and probed.

Unconsciously, Julie clasped her arms across her chest, waiting for the gruesome tale to finish. She jumped when the doctor pressed the stop b.u.t.ton, abruptly ending the strained, terror-stricken voice of her sister on the tape.

"It isn't true, you know," Julie said softly. "She didn't go to the hospital. After she left my house, she simply went home. I called her later, so I know she got there safely."

"I didn't think this had actually occurred. At least not on that day. There was nothing in her medical files and nothing on the admission forms she filled out when she started treatment."

"I thought under hypnosis, people were supposed to tell the truth."

"They tell the truth as they perceive it. I think Laura may have confused another event in her life, perhaps the abortion she went through some years ago. At least that was my feeling until the session we attempted today."

"She told you about that?"

He nodded.

The abortion wasn't something Laura liked to discuss. At seventeen, the pregnancy and botched abortion was just another incident in a lifetime of mistakes.

"You said that was your feeling until today."

"That's right."

Julie's stomach began to churn. "So what...what happened today?"

"I think the best way to tell you is simply to play the tape."

Julie just nodded. Her insides felt tied in knots. There was something strangely unsettling about what Laura had said, though she knew it wasn't the truth. Sitting back on the sofa, she concentrated on the soft whir of the recorder, her chest feeling leaden. Dr. Heraldson skipped the first part of the session where he had done the hypnosis and the conversation leading up to the subject he wanted to discuss. He started the tape at the part where he'd asked Laura about her trip to the hospital the day they had gone to the beach, and if since then, she had ever been frightened like that again.

A long nervous pause ensued. Then, "One night I thought I heard them. I thought they were there, outside my bedroom window. I called the police. They searched outside, but no one was there. A few days later, I thought I heard them again. I was so scared...I didn't know what to do. I called the police again, but they never found any trace of them."

The doctor's deep voice came softly over the tape. "Who did you think was out there, Laura?"

"I don't know. The people from the hospital I guess."

"Have you seen them again?"

She swallowed so hard Julie could hear it on the tape. "Yes...They came for me at Julie's. I should have known they would-that's where they came for me before...there on the beach. I shouldn't have stayed with Julie."

Julie sat up straighter on the sofa, her stomach clenching tighter.

"Tell me what happened," the doctor said.

"I-I heard them outside on the balcony...footsteps...little scratching noises. I knew it was them. Oh, G.o.d, I was so frightened. I wanted to hide. I wanted to run. But I knew they would find me wherever I went. It was dark outside. When the lights went off, I wanted to curl up and die. A few minutes later, a bright light filled the room, so strong it hurt my eyes. Then it was dark again." Laura made a soft choking sound of despair. "That's when they came into the bedroom."

There was the sound of the doctor's chair moving. "Go on, Laura," he whispered gently, "this is only a memory. You're distanced from it. The memory can no longer hurt you."

She seemed to relax at that. "I don't know how they got in. One minute they were out on the deck, the next they were there, standing all around the bed. I couldn't move. I couldn't even scream. They stared at me for the longest time...then they carried me away."

The doctor cleared his throat. "What else do you recall?"

"Nothing until I woke up. I was there...in the hospital. They stripped off my nightgown and washed my body with the same wet slimy stuff they rubbed on me before. They parted my legs and probed inside me. It hurt a little, but mostly I was embarra.s.sed. I don't think they really meant to hurt me, but I hated them just the same. I hated them for what they were doing. I laid there naked and I prayed they weren't real, that what was happening was only a nightmare. I prayed that I would wake up, but in my heart I knew I wasn't dreaming."

The doctor said nothing.

The tape whirred in the silence of a pause. "There's something more," Laura said, "but I-I can't seem to recall what it is." She must have bent her head for the sob that slipped from her throat came out m.u.f.fled and ragged. Then she started crying.

Julie jerked when the tape recorder went off, looked up from the hands she'd been gripping in her lap, and returned her attention to Brian Heraldson. She wished the blood would flow back into her face.

"Now you can see why I called."

She moistened her lips. Her mouth felt like cotton. "Yes."

"Is there anything you can remember about either of those occasions, anything that might help explain the things Laura has said?"

"No. It makes absolutely no sense. The day we went to the beach, we both fell asleep for a while. Afterward we packed our things and went back to my house. Neither of us felt very good. Probably too much sun. Afterward I had a terrible headache, but other than that, nothing extraordinary occurred."

"How about later, the weekend she spent with you after the incident with the police?"

"As she said on the tape, she was afraid someone was trying to break into her apartment. She was frightened. That was the reason she agreed to come home with me in the first place."

"How did she behave that night? Did you notice anything unusual?"

"Not really. We ate an early supper-lemon chicken. It's one of her favorites. We had a gla.s.s of wine and talked for a while out on the deck, then we both went to bed. I was having another one of my headaches, so I took some sleeping pills. I seem to recall seeing a very bright light that night, but it could have been anything...perhaps a spotlight on one of the beach patrol Jeeps. After that, I guess I must have fallen asleep. I don't remember anything until I woke up in the morning."

"How was Laura then?"

Julie frowned as she recalled Laura's pale face the following day. "Now that you mention it, she did seem kind of upset. I thought she was getting the flu. I took her to see our family physician that afternoon."

"I read Dr. Marsh's report. The bleeding she suffered coincides with her memory of the physical examination she believes she experienced-but the body has been known to a.s.sist us in our delusions."

"What do you mean?"

"It is not uncommon in cases of trauma for marks to appear with no physical contact, burns, bruises on the skin, that sort of thing. Psychosomatic manifestations can cause all sorts of problems."

The doctor caught her worried gaze and came up from his chair. "I can see that you are upset and that wasn't my intention in bringing you here." He rounded the desk and walked toward her. "We've only just started Laura's therapy. She hasn't heard the tapes. I wanted to speak to you first, find out as much as I could. I've decided to play them for her during her next session. Perhaps hearing them will help her remember what it was that unleashed her fears in the first place. At the very least, since none of this actually occurred, she'll be able to understand their groundless nature. Then we can begin delving into her feelings about the abortion."

Julie rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying not to notice the headache that had started to build. "You really believe that's what this is about?"

"Don't you?"

"I don't know. It was extremely traumatic for her at the time, but I really thought she'd gotten past it. "I'm not really sure what to believe, but I'm very worried about her."

"I know you are, Julie. And your concern is one of the things that's going to help her get well." He walked her to the door. "I'd prefer you didn't discuss this with Laura, at least not yet."

"All right. And if there's anything else I can do, please just call." He showed her out the door then closed it softly behind her. All the way to her car, Julie's stomach churned to think of the terror going on in her sister's beautiful head.

Commander Val Zarkazian took a last look at himself in the mirror above the black teakwood dresser in the bedroom of his penthouse apartment. Already his face-Patrick's face, he corrected-had lost its pallor. The dark, clean-shaven skin was once again robust, without the trace of puffiness Patrick's drug abuse had caused. The running he did each morning left his chiseled features lean and his jawline firm. There was even a newly acquired, glossy vitality to his wavy black hair.

Remembering the first Earth subjects he had seen, he never thought he would come to like his human appearance. But he did. As Patrick he felt...substantial. A solid ma.s.s of muscle and bone. He felt male and masculine in a way far different from anything he had experienced on Toril.

Where he came from, male and female gender were different, yet very much the same. Though he was larger than his female counterparts, any variation in size, shape or thinking was inconsequential. They all worked at the same tasks, were equally well-educated, and shared equally in the raising of the offspring they were a.s.signed, test-tube children resulting from their genetic match.

Until he'd come here, protective feelings toward the female of the species were heretofore unknown, as was deference to her as an expression of politeness. Even more importantly, he had never known this craving, this hunger to mate with a female. It was something he couldn't quite grasp.

And yet he found this division of the s.e.xes, these powerful feelings of maleness, exhilarating beyond anything he could have imagined.

He straightened his patterned silk tie and turned away from the mirror, crossing the artistic, spa.r.s.ely furnished bedroom, past the king-sized pedestal bed, his black shoes clicking on the polished hardwood floors. Modern art lined the walls: nothing too expensive, just new young artists with an eye for color and form. Patrick's contemporary tastes corresponded with the simple lines in the world Val had come from, making it easier to accept this place as his temporary home.

On his way out the door, he pa.s.sed the platter of cold-cuts and crackers-a favorite of Patrick's-that he had been determined to eat. He picked up a piece of salami, felt his stomach swim with nausea, and laid it back down on the plate. Consuming Earth food had been one of his most difficult adjustments. Everything was too spicy, too hot or too cold, the texture so different from what he was used to it almost made him gag.

Still, his body needed nourishment. He had to keep trying. He took a thin slice of chopped ham, rolled it up and took a bite, forced himself to chew, grimaced and swallowed it nearly whole, then continued on into the living room. All the while his mind remained fixed on the evening he would spend with Julie Ferris.

It was crucial he increase his involvement with her. He was there to study her in her natural environment, see what he might learn. Physically he had found nothing different about her, from other female subjects, but the testing had been minimal. He needed to study her habits, her likes and dislikes, what foods she ingested into her stomach, what sort of care she took of her body. Through Patrick's memory bank, he already knew a great deal. Tonight would provide another study opportunity.

At 8:00 p.m. he arrived at the office to find her still at work, a phone to her ear as she bent over her desk. She was standing with her back to him, scribbling something on a piece of paper. A small bra.s.s lamp on the edge of the table reflected the reddish sparkle in her hair. Dressed in a powder-blue suit with big pearl b.u.t.tons, she smoothed the knee-length skirt that hugged the curves of her bottom. The tailored jacket didn't quite reach her tiny waist.