She had heard the theory that plants can pick up the psychological vibrations of their people and react to them, but she considered the idea ridiculous. All the same, something was definitely wrong with her plants, and Karyn resolved to watch them closely.
In the next 24 hours they got much worse. By then there was a generous scattering of dead brown fronds under the fern. The spider plant drooped sadly, its leaves turning yellow and curling in on themselves. The philodendron had completely lost its glossy good health. The leaves had paled and hung limp from the vine. The whole plant sagged against the post as though it were an effort to remain upright.
Karyn decided to wait no longer. She carried the three plants out to her little Datsun and drove off for Plant World on Aurora, where she had bought them. She felt just a little foolish rushing them off like sick children, but they were her responsibility.
She pulled into the parking lot at Plant World and carried them in one by one. She was relieved to find an understanding woman at the counter, and not some smartass who would have to make jokes.
"My, they do seem to be feeling poorly, don't they?" the woman said.
"It just happened in the last couple of days," Karyn said. "What do you think is wrong with them?"
"I'd hate to take a guess. Mr. Bjorklund will be back this afternoon. He's awfully good with sick little fellows like these."
"Would it be all right if I left them here? I could come back tomorrow and talk to Mr. - "
"Bjorklund," the woman supplied. "Of course you can leave them, dear. Don't worry about them. I'll see to it they're made comfortable, and I'll watch over them until Mr. Bjorklund comes."
"Thank you," Karyn said. She resisted an impulse to give each of the sick plants a reassuring pat, and left the store.
A sense of depression came over her as she drove back home. The car seemed empty. She reminded herself sternly that it was just three plants she had left behind, not three children. To get out of the mood, she decided to stop in at the new Kenmore Shopping Mall and look around.
It was one of the new breed of two-level shopping centers, roofed over against the elements, and with an adjoining parking structure. Inside, the mall had bubbling fountains, potted shrubbery, and plastic park benches. The air had a scent of aerosol springtime. Soft, soothing music flowed from concealed speakers.
Karyn strolled slowly along, window-shopping the jewelry and clothing stores. She went into a leather goods shop and began to feel better, enjoying the tangy smell and tough-smooth feel of the merchandise.
She picked out a key case she thought David would like, and paid for it with her Master Charge card. While the clerk filled out the receipt she remembered that her parents had a wedding anniversary coming up soon. She left the leather shop with her purchase and stepped on the Down escalator to reach a gift shop on the lower level.
As she rode down the silent moving stairway, Karyn glanced up at the overhead ledge. Just before she was carried underneath, she saw the face of Roy Beatty.
Her knees started to give way, and she clutched the black rubber handrail for support. The woman in front of her turned around and gave Karyn a look of disapproval.
When the escalator reached the bottom Karyn almost fell as her feet slid over the grate where the steps disappeared. The people coming off behind Karyn jostled her as she stood motionless, staring upward toward the ledge that was out of sight now. After a moment, she took hold of herself and hurried across the mall to where the matching escalator carried people up. She got on and climbed the moving steps, ignoring the irritated looks she got from the shoppers she pushed past.
Once back on the upper level she had to look around for a moment to get her bearings. She located the ledge with the railing overlooking the Down escalator, where she had seen Roy. The only people there now were two young boys who leaned over to watch the moving row of people slide down and out of sight. There was no sign of Roy Beatty, or of anyone who looked like him.
Karyn hurried over and spoke to the boys. "What happened to the man who was standing here?"
The boys looked at each other, then back at Karyn. "What man?"
"He was standing right here where you are now. He was looking down."
"There wasn't any man here that we saw." The boys started to edge away from her.
Karyn started to insist that there certainly had been a man standing right here not three minutes ago, then she stopped, realizing how foolish it would be to argue with the children. In frustration she spun around, her eyes ranging over the people who moved among the shops.
She saw him again just as he vanished down one of the broad aisles leading to an exit. He wore a denim jacket and faded jeans. The hair was longer than Roy had worn his, but it was the same shade of pale tan, and the broad shoulders brought Karyn a pang of memory. She left the two boys staring after her and followed the man.
She reached the exit and saw that it opened on a concrete walkway across to the parking structure. No one was on the bridge. Karyn hurried across and peered around among the parked ears. There was no sign of the man in denim. Karyn looked down and saw her hands were shaking. She leaned for a moment against one of the thick pillars for support. Somewhere she had dropped the package with David's key case, but she did not go back to look for it.
Dr. Goetz sat facing her in one of his chrome and leather chairs. He wore a professional, concerned expression.
"I feel a little silly," Karyn said, "Calling you from the shopping center as though it were some kind of life-or-death emergency. All the same, I'm glad you could see me."
The doctor smiled gently. "I hate to say, 'That's what I'm here for,' because it sounds so Marcus Welby. But that's what I'm here for, Karyn."
"Now that I'm here, I don't know where to start."
"Tell me about the man you saw at the shopping mall. Did you get a good look at him?"
"Yes. It was just for a second or two, but I saw him very clearly. Then the escalator took me down under the ledge where he was standing."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"No."
"Make any gesture? Any sign that he knew you?"
"He just looked at me."
"And you say he resembled your former husband."
"Dr. Goetz, he was my former husband. That man was Roy Beatty."
Dr. Goetz squeezed his lower lip thoughtfully between thumb and forefinger. After several seconds he spoke. "As I recall, you told me Roy Beatty died three years ago."
Karyn felt the beginnings of a headache. She said, "I don't know that he died in the Drago fire. I assumed that he did. Obviously, I was wrong. If I saw him in the Kenmore Mall this morning, then he's alive."
Dr. Goetz got out of his chair and came over to sit beside her on the sofa. His pale blue eyes searched her face, then became unreadable. "Karyn, I think maybe we were hasty in cutting you down to one visit a week. If it's possible, I'd like to see you more often. Twice. Three times, if you could manage it."
Karyn wanted to cry. Ever since the crack-up in Las Vegas she had made steady progress in her therapy. Until now. What was happening to her? She knew how it must sound - someone following her, noises in the night, and now seeing her supposedly dead husband. The classic symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia.
For the first time in many months Karyn wondered if she might be losing her grip on reality. Maybe she did need more time with the analyst.
"I'll talk to my husband about it," she said. "Goodbye, Doctor."