"I am," she said, and she could barely hear her own voice.
Finally the elevator doors opened on the lobby. She said a quick goodbye and hurried Jill out to the street.
▼
2:00 P.M.
"I do wish you'd stay another day or so," Aunt Ellen said as she sipped her sherry.
Kara took a sip of her own. She didn't usually drink wine in the afternoon, and wasn't at all used to sherry.
But once you got past the sweetness of the first couple of sips, it wasn't half bad.
Ellen had greeted them at the door where there had been a round of embraces and a few new tears shed over Kelly. She looked great as usual. With her carefully coiffed and tinted hair, her tasteful make-up, and trim figure, she appeared a good ten years younger than her fifty-eight years.
They'd sat in the living room of her richly furnished Turtle Bay condo and talked awhile, and then Lucia, her Filipino cook and housekeeper, had served lunch. Kara thought she could never get used to a maid, but decided she could probably adjust to having a cook fairly quickly—especially one as skilled as Lucia. Her aunt seemed to take the service for granted. Her husband had been a partner in a Wall Street brokerage house. He was gone now but he had left her extremely well off.
After lunch had come the sherry. Kara had almost refused, then decided she needed it. After her encounter with Dr. Gates, and then seeing Rob and Jill together, she really needed it.
"And see how Jill loves to play with Bella," Ellen said.
Kara glanced over to the sunny window seat where Ellen's black Persian was allowing Jill to stroke her fur.
"I'd love to stay," Kara said, lying, "but I've really got to get back to the farm."
"Oh, pooh. What for? It's not a real farm. I mean, it's not as if you grow things and keep livestock."
Kara smiled at her aunt. Ellen was the only one she knew who could say "Oh, pooh" and not sound ridiculous.
"Oh, no, you don't," Kara said. "You're not going to get me into that old argument. You call Mom in Florida if you feel like mixing it up."
Kara's mother, Martha, was Ellen's sister. It seemed that Ellen had lived here in Turtle Bay in the shadow of the U.N. complex forever, while Martha had stayed on the farm. They had argued about which was the better life ever since Kara could remember. She and Kelly had called them Country Mouse and City Mouse.
Strange how generations follow similar patterns, she thought. Mom and Ellen had chosen different roads early in life, just like Kara and Kelly. But Martha and Ellen were both still alive.
"Didn't you tell me that Rob was in charge of the investigation?"
"Such as it is, yes."
"And yet you brought Jill in? Do you think that's wise? I mean, considering that he's—"
"I didn't have much choice. There's no one to leave her with back home."
"You can leave Jill with me anytime. You know that. By the way, what about Kelly's things?"
Kara took another sip. "I don't know. I'll have to come back for them."
She knew that the smart thing to do would be to spend the next few days packing up anything of Kelly's she wanted to keep and shipping it all back to the farm. But she had a blind urge to flee the city. Not tomorrow. Today. Now.
"Suit yourself, dear. I know you have to do what you think best. We all do."
Something in her voice made Kara look more closely at her aunt. She saw that her eyes were glistening, and her lips were trembling. Kara got up and went around the coffee table to sit next to her. She took Ellen's hand.
"What's wrong?"
"You blame me, don't you," she said. A tear slid down her cheek, trailing mascara in its wake. "That's why you won't stay here."
"Blame you for what?"
"For Kelly's death!"
She was crying now, and trembling all over. Kara put her arms around her.
"Don't be silly! No one blames you at all."
"Martha does! She hasn't said so, but I know she thinks that if I hadn't encouraged you two to try life here in the city, Kelly would still be alive!"
Yes, Kara thought with a pang, she probably would be.
But she couldn't say that to Ellen.
"She thinks nothing of the sort. Kelly made her own choices. Someone is to blame for Kelly's death, Aunt Ellen, but it's not you. It's not you."
The older woman clutched her and stifled her sobs. Then she straightened up and dabbed her eyes with a napkin.
"Won't you stay the night? I've felt so terribly alone here since Kelly died. She only stopped in once in a while, but just knowing she was in the city made me feel as though I had family here. Won't you and Jill please stay? Just this once?"
"Okay, Aunt Ellen," Kara said, forcing a smile. "Just for tonight."
She hoped she wouldn't regret it.
▼
6:02 P.M.
Before dinner, Kara made a quick trip back to Kelly's apartment to pick up the clothing and personal items they had left there. She was barely in the door when the phone began to ring. Thinking it was probably Rob, she let it ring three times, then wondered it if might be someone else. A friend of Kelly's, perhaps. She picked it up on the fourth.
"Miss Kara Wade?
It was Dr. Gates. She recognized the slightly accented voice immediately.
"Speaking."
"I'm glad I found you. I spent most of the afternoon calling this number."
"Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure."
Kara felt a chill run over her skin.
"What do you mean?"
"Miss Wade," he said, "I've changed my mind. Please do not think that your threat of a lawsuit or the presence of your policeman friend in my office today have anything to do with this decision. It is simply that upon further reflection I've concluded that it might be in the best interests of all concerned if I break confidence and discuss your late sister's medical history with you."
"Best interest? What does that mean?"
"I'll discuss everything with you in detail tomorrow morning at ten o'clock in my office. I do not see patients on Wednesdays so there will be no time pressure. Can you be here then?"
"Yes, of course, but—"
"Ten o'clock. Good night."
And then he hung up.
Kara stood and stared at the buzzing phone. What had made him change his mind.
The chill hit her again.
She almost wished he hadn't.
The new one is just like the last one, the lost blond. Exactly like her. Resemblance is truly remarkable.
He wants the new one. Hasn't told me about her, but I can tell when he wants someone. Can sense whenever he's excited, and he's very excited by this new one.
Poor thing. Hasn't got a chance. Only hope is to stay away from him, never come near him again. Once he gets his hooks into her, that will be it. She'll be at his mercy.
So it's all up to her now. Stay away and stay well, or come back and be driven mad. Like me.
Me. Mad. Crazy. Insane. Meshugge.
All his fault. The swine, the dirty, filthy, stinking, parasitic scum. I'd have had a normal, productive life without him. A spouse, a child, a future without him.
But I have nothing. Not even hope.
I'd kill him if I could. If only I could! If only I had the means. But I do not. I'd kill myself if I had the nerve—ram this pencil through my eye and into my brain and end this misery. But I do not. I'm a coward. I'll have to wait and hope, that someone else will do it. I can only hope.
But why bother hoping? No one knows about him, or about what he can do. Only me.
And to think that once I loved him.
February 11
10:09 A.M.
They sat as they had yesterday: Dr. Gates behind his mahogany desk in a high-backed swivel chair, Kara in the armchair facing him. A chart lay open on the desk before him. His hands were held before his lips, palms together as if in prayer, as he stared at her with his watery blue eyes.