"That's good," Bonnie told him. "That's healthy."
He gave a short, bitter laugh. "And the funny part is, as soon as I started changing my habits I discov ered that I had a lot more freedom than I would have guessed. It came as a shock to me, but at the same time I liked what I was doing. I knew immediately I was right.*
"You were Rip Van Winkle," Bonnie said.
"In a way, yes. That's right."
'Were you in love with my mother?" Bonnie thought she knew the answer to the question already, but it was time to make Jeff talk about it. They had skirted around it all weekend, but he could hardly bring himself to get it out in the open and face it with her.
"Was I ..." Jeff echoed. He didn't seem to understand what she was asking.
"When you were in high school together."
"Oh, well. Maybe I was," he replied vaguely, shaking his head and smiling oddly. He should have expected a blunt question like that from Bonnie sooner or later. In fact, he had seen it coming after yesterday's question. But he still felt an enormous dread, even with the moment at hand, and he wasn't sure what to say. "That was a long time ago. I was a teenager, and who knows what teenagers think and feel? I've spent a weekend with you, but I can't pretend I really know or understand you."
Bonnie absently nudged a piece of broken shell, but she was not to be diverted. "Are you now?" she asked. "Are you still in love with her now?"
Jeff lit a cigarette, turning his face away from her. He stared at the bay, at his feet; he brushed his hair back with his hand. Finally he faced the girl again.
"Yes," he said simply, quietly.
Bonnie nodded slightly to herself. The look on her face seemed so neutral it was almost scientific. Jeff had the unpleasant sensation that she was looking right through him at something else. But then she glanced at the sky.
It must be getting late," she said. "Don't you think we should start back to Boston?"
"Hey, wait a minute," he said anxiously, sitting up. "I want to talk about it."
"Yeah, but I'm getting cold here, Jeff, even with the Scotch. Can't we talk while we're driving?"
"Sure, we'll talk in the car, but"-Jeff put his hand on her arm-"I want to get something clear first. Are you mad at me?"
"No. Why should I be?"
"Because I've been to bed with you several times this weekend and now I've told you I love your mother."
"Well, that's the way it goes."
"That's the way it goes?" Jeff was astounded. "That's all you have to say about it?"
"I told you I'm not mad at you. I don't know what else to say."
"Say what you think."
"Give me a few minutes to get used to it," Bonnie said. "In the car I'll tell you what I think. Okay?"
"Hang on a sec. Was it very obvious to you?"
"I had an idea," she admitted. "I wondered about it."
"Since when?"
"Last year. The first time I met you."
"You're kidding." Jeff felt his face reddening.
"No. You hardly ever took your eyes off Mom. It kind of reminded me of the way a kid in my class used to look at me, and I thought: Hmm, I wonder."
"Was it that obvious to your mother and father?"
"They didn't talk to me about it," Bonnie answered with a deliberate shrug. "Maybe Dad was a little uncomfortable, but then you went back to California and that was the end of it, so ..."
"Yeah, right."
"Shall we go now?" Bonnie suggested brightly.
.No, wait a minute."
His hand was on her arm again. He's not going to let me go, Bonnie thought. He wants to have it all out right here. She was aware of being a little frightened, but she still had a lot of confidence as well. She should have waited until they were in the car and back out on the road before asking Jeff if he loved her mother, but even then, at that last moment, she hadn't really believed it was true, or that he would admit it. Everything added up exactly as it had each time she'd looked at the situation-and yet she'd still been reluctant to accept it. It was a fact the mind naturally wanted to resist. And could she be sure ... ? Or was she simply overreacting?
Bonnie had given a great deal of thought to Jeff Lisker the previous autumn, when she'd drawn up her list of names. He became more interesting when she learned that he'd been back to visit her mother again, and that he was calling her on the phone twice a week. But that was all there was to it. The move from Jeff's interest in Georgianne to Sean's murder was simply too big a leap. Bonnie had thought then that if Jeff ever turned up in Cambridge looking for her, she'd know. That would be it, that would tell her everything. But she'd thrown away the list and tried to forget about it all.
Until Friday. Jeffs sudden appearance had shocked and frightened her, but she hadn't been entirely unprepared, and she thought she'd handled it well. What he'd done to his hair was interesting. The fact that she hadn't seen any computer components or business papers in his hotel room was also noteworthy. But the real questions were whether he'd come to Boston because he wanted Georgianne or because he wanted her daughter, and whether he really was capable of killing. She had taken him to bed to find out what kind of man he was.
Bonnie soon had no doubt that he was in love with her mother, but she was also surprised that he let himself be seduced so easily. And the more time she spent with him, the less she thought it likely he could hurt anyone. He acted like he'd learned to live by following instructions in a manual. Killing Sean for the love of Georgianne would be insane, but it would also require courage and romantic heroism, however twisted, and Bonnie had seen nothing of those qualities in Jeff. He might love her mother, but he had too much of the spinster aunt in him to do anything drastic about it.
Bonnie didn't actually feel threatened just now Jeff looked puzzled more than anything else-but she did want to get away from that empty beach. He wasn't ready to go. But she had persuaded him to do whatever she wanted all weekend, and there was no reason for that to stop now. She simply had to talk to him and reassure him until they were in the car and moving.
"What are you going to do?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand affectionately.
"About what?" He sounded confused but wary.
"Well, you haven't talked about this with Mom, have you? Are you going to?"
"I don't know. I guess so, but that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Are you sure you're not upset?"
"Because we've slept together? No, I told you. Why should I be upset? I wanted it as much as you did, maybe more. It doesn't have anything to do with my mother. Besides, you're better in bed than you think, and if you and Mom get together, well, that's nice to know."
Jeff liked what she said, but something was wrong. It didn't quite ring true. Bonnie was clever, but she'd also been open and frank all the time he'd been with her. Now she was just saying whatever she thought would sound right to him.
"You wouldn't tell her," he said.
"Christ, no. Why would I do that? Imagine how it would hurt her. And even if I didn't care what she thought about you, I do care what she thinks about me."
That made sense. "The thing is," he said, "I did try to let Georgianne know how I felt about her, but it didn't seem to get through to her. Uh ... this was some time after your father's death, of course."
"Sure, well ..."
"And it's depressing, very depressing. Back in February, she more or less told me not to come for a visit. And I thought that if I didn't call for a while, it might ... she might ... well, nothing came of it. Nothing happened at all."
"I see."
"I guess I probably didn't do a very good job of making myself clear to her," he went on.