“You arrived last night at approximately eleven in a state that mimicked coma but that we eventually determined as a deep sleep. We ran a series of tests to find the cause but they all came back either negative or normal. It was as if your body had shut down so that it could replenish or repair, perhaps from your recent illness, but we couldn’t find any other specific reason why.” The comforting smile returned. “You’re in perfect health, Lottie. Better than most patients I see.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Maybe we should start at the beginning. That may help us all better understand.” Dr. Simonetti placed my chart off to the side. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
That particular moment came rushing back, hard and fast. It felt as if I’d just been at Nirvana and hadn’t lost twelve hours of my life. I told her about dinner and dancing, and that Lori and I spent time at the bar talking.
“Did anything unusual happen prior to your episode? Something that might have triggered your response?”
“No, not that I can think of. We were at the bar for maybe twenty minutes.”
“Did you eat or drink anything you normally wouldn’t at any point during the night?”
I shook my head.
“Did you feel angry or upset by anything during your conversation with Lori?”
I hesitated.
“What is it?” David asked.
I didn’t answer because it was a conversation that I couldn’t bring up now. Not with a stranger in the room.
“Lottie?” David’s voice deepened. “What happened?”
I closed my eyes and let the memory take me. “A scent,” I said, and I had an odd sensation of feeling bereft of something intimate, and maybe even important. “An intensely exotic scent.”
I inhaled, trying to find that powerful aroma again, but I couldn’t recreate it no matter how hard I tried. Frustrated, I let out the breath, opened my eyes and focused back on where I was.
“Was it a perfume or cologne?” Dr. Simonetti asked.
“Neither.” I was surprised by the frustration and disappointment I heard in my voice. While I couldn’t tell them what it was, I couldn’t tell them what it wasn’t either. “But I do know that I smelled it just after I made eye contact with a man on the other side of the bar.” I looked at David. “I think that’s when I passed out.”
David’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know him?”
“He seemed familiar somehow but I don’t know from where.”
“Work? Gym? Volleyball?”
“I don’t know, David. I really don’t.”
“Did he come near you?”
“No.”
“Speak to you?”
“No.”
“Did Lori recognize him?”
“I don’t think she even knew he was looking at me.”
“Or that you were looking at him,” David said, and there was a strange quality to his voice that I didn’t expect. Not quite jealousy but something close to it.
Dr. Simonetti stood up, hung my chart on the footboard, and turned to me. “Well, the good news is that you’re cleared for release. For the record, I consider last night to be an isolated syncopal episode — a fancy term for fainting — that was brought on by the physical stress of a previous illness, a crowded bar and maybe pushing yourself too soon and too fast. I’d suggest that, in the future, you give your body the rest it needs after you get sick. I’m going to write a prescription for bed rest for the balance of the weekend and complete your paperwork so you can get out of here by noon. Sound good?”
I nodded.
“Feel better.” She looked at David. “Take care of Lottie and make sure she rests.”
David nodded, too.
When the door closed behind her, I looked at David. “You told her about my episodes.”
“Yep.” David tugged the loosened tie from his neck and shoved it into the breast pocket of his jacket. “She seems to think it’s related to your flu.” Before I could say I told you so he added, “And I don’t believe her either.”
I frowned.
“Did it happen again last night at the bar?”
I didn’t want to tell him because I didn’t want to fight about it. I also didn’t want to worry David more than he already was.
With fingers to my chin, David coaxed my gaze back on him. “We made a promise, Lottie.”
The promise was to never lie to each other again. About three years ago, David and I broke up for nearly a year and it was a breakup caused mostly by lies. It was a horrible time for the both of us and one we never wanted to live through again. When we reconciled, we made the promise to always tell the truth, and we swore to live by it forever.
“It was a small memory this time,” I told him. “But I can’t place from where, David. It links to the others I’ve had but I’m not sure how.”
“What kind of memory?”
I didn’t know because only feelings remained. Fragments of very intense, very passionate feelings combined with a lingering sensation of guilt.
“This is three times in a little more than a day, Lottie. And you promised me that if you had another episode, you’d see a professional.”
“I know.”
“And?”
I blew out a breath, feeling rushed into the decision. But, a promise was a promise and I owed David that much. “I’ll see Paul when I go back to work on Monday.”
“No.” David shook his head. “You and Paul have a history. I think Denise Rivera would be better. She’s the best psychiatrist at PROs and if anyone can help you get to the bottom of this, it’s her. I trust her implicitly. She’s helped me in the past and I know she can help you, too.”
Meaning, he didn’t trust Paul.
“Paul can be very objective,” I said. “He’s who I go to when I can’t talk to you and he’s also a very good friend.”
“And he’s biased and too close to you. And you also have to consider Deborah’s suicide last year and the fact that she was also Paul’s niece — ”
David stopped when he realized he’d dredged up the wrong memory at the wrong time. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how hard it’s been for you to deal with what happened to her, but you have to think about Paul’s bias. See Denise instead. For me.” He paused. “Please.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You promised, Lottie. You said if it happened again — ”
“I know, but this is different.”
“It’s not different at all. If anything, this is getting worse.”
Frustrated, David turned away and pretended to be interested in a flock of small birds circling an evergreen outside the room’s window. I watched along with him, using the time and the silence to let the strain between us lose steam.
“Doctor Simonetti was right about what she said before.” David kept studying the birds. “You scared the hell out of me last night.”
I watched his brooding profile and felt the tension in his body vibrate between us, and realized he was only trying to do right by me because he loved me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He turned and his eyes searched mine. Penetrating, determined eyes that were trying their damnedest to conceal doubt and concern, and that were shadowed by exhaustion. He’d been through too much since last night and was having a hard time handling it. In fact, the both of us were.
I shifted and patted the empty space beside me in the bed. David shrugged off his suit jacket and kicked off his shoes, eased in and spooned me from behind. He felt warm and strong and sure, and I watched the clock tick away the minutes while the tension in David’s body eased and exhaustion drew him into slumber.
An alarm sounded outside the door and a torrent of voices followed, responding to an emergency that needed attention. David tightened his hold and snuggled in closer, murmuring something about not wanting to lose me again. His breath felt warm and soothing against my skin, his arms powerful around my body. I let myself relax with him and, for the first t
ime in days, felt my lingering edginess recede. I closed my eyes and started drifting off with him, and in that twilight sleep I saw shimmering gold linen and bright blue skies, and smelled sweet lilies and cinnamon spiced wine, and felt another man’s body on top of mine. I felt the depth of his love, sensed the darkness of betrayal, and watched the sharp glint of a sword arcing down in a final, decisive blow.
I jerked awake, heart hammering and sweating, clutching the sheets with the sensation of the world slipping out from underneath me. Something was out there, outside of my control, shifting and changing direction.
And it felt like death.
Chapter Ten
“I hung with Neil from the phone company while you were at the hospital and guess what we found?”
Nat sat slouched in a saddle colored leather chair in my den, both legs outstretched and crossed at his booted ankles. He looked comfortable there despite the tight blue jeans and T-shirt. Then again, I couldn’t remember a time Nat didn’t look comfortable in our house because he’d practically made it his second home ever since David and I moved in two years ago.
“We found a transmitter packaged all neat and pretty at the telephone pole down your block.”
This caught David’s attention and he went still. “So that’s why the call to Lottie’s cell phone the other morning looked like it originated from here.”
“Yup. Someone’s been messing with your phone lines.”
“Which means we’ve been tapped,” David said.
Nat pointed his finger and pulled an imaginary trigger. “Exactamundo.”
“Dinner is just about ready,” Lori called out from the kitchen. She ducked into the oven and poked at her lasagna with a fork, and my stomach growled. It had been almost a full day since I last ate a decent meal.
“Were you able to trace the call?” David asked.
“Nope. Damned thing was pretty sophisticated and had a heartbeat.”
“What’s a heartbeat?” I asked.
David looked at me. “It basically means that someone inserted a device into our phone line that, if tinkered with or removed, would delete any programming associated with it.”
“So,” Nat added, “we’d have no way of finding who went to all the trouble.”
I looked from Nat to David, confused.
“The heartbeat sends a signal to the person doing the tapping,” David explained. “Mess with the heartbeat, as Nat and the phone company unknowingly did when they checked the tap earlier, and the man who called you quickly knew someone was snooping around. And the deleted programming guarantees that no one can ever track back to him and what he was doing.”
“So what does this all mean?” I asked.
David paused. “It means that this guy’s been spooked and will probably change tactics now.”
“Tactics?”
Lori set plates, forks, knives and napkins on the large coffee table between us and went back to the kitchen. David’s eyes tracked her as she walked away and I wondered what caught his attention.
“Tactics designed to continue to get your attention or scare you,” he said, turning back to me.
“Or something more,” Nat said.
“We don’t know that, Nat.”
“I don’t understand.” I got up, went to the slider and leaned my head against the glass so I could look outside. It was another beautiful July day, bright and sunny and warm, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I felt trapped and scared and I wanted answers. Now.
I inhaled and exhaled long and slow, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. Someone was out there, watching me. For all I knew, they were in the backyard, watching me right now.
Movement near the deep end of the in-ground pool drew my attention away from the conversation. The tall, wild grasses that framed the diving board and waterfall moved, went still, then moved again. My heart stopped. A breeze blew past and the lofty yellow and green stalks quivered, and then someone with blonde hair slipped deeper inside the shrubs.
Another breeze blew through, this one strong enough to bend the grasses at a sharp angle. No one was there. I’d only imagined it.
“I’ll try it another way,” David said. “A telecommunication line can — ”
“That’s not what I mean,” I said. “What I mean is, why me?”
“I’m going for blunt here,” Nat said, “but if we knew that answer we’d probably already have this solved, wouldn’t we?”
I closed my eyes, disappointed.
I felt David’s warmth move in from behind, and he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in close. “What is it I always say to you when things get tough?” His voice was just above a whisper but he sounded strong and sure and confident and everything I wanted to be at that moment.
I sighed. “This situation is more than just tough, David. I’m a psychologist and even I don’t have any words to explain this.”
“Humor me.”
I turned and looked up at him. “Fine,” I said, reciting David’s words from memory, which was easy enough to do because I’d heard them so often I’d lost count. “If your enemy is in superior strength, evade him. If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.”
“Ah,” Nat said. “Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. I love that book.”
“That and the Kama Sutra,” Lori said.
David shook his head and smiled but I could see the edginess behind it. “And the point of all that is?”
“To prepare.”
“And to be clever.” He tapped a finger to my forehead. “And to remember that once a plan is set in motion, you have to expect to change it once you engage.”
I eased out of David’s embrace and watched Lori set dinner on the coffee table. “You make it sound simple, David.”
“In some ways it is simple. Preparation and practicality are two things that make a difference, Lottie.”
“That,” Nat said, holding up a forkful of lasagna to make his point, “and knowing when to fight.”
Lori settled down on the floor next to her husband. “But this isn’t war.”
“Isn’t it?” Nat asked.
“Not even close!” Lori stared at Nat like he’d lost all sense of reality. “Does it look like Lottie’s in a battlefield and dressed in camouflage? Is she aiming a gun or throwing a grenade?”
“Wars and battles come in all shapes and sizes.”
“If there’s an opponent of any kind,” David said, “then it’s a war.”
Not to me it wasn’t, but I wasn’t about to argue the point because this was the one big difference between David and me. He saw life as a series of battles to be fought in order to grow stronger intellectually and physically. I saw life as a learning experience so that you grew stronger emotionally and spiritually.
Lori scooped out three helpings of dinner for herself, David, and me. Nat dug in for seconds. I sank into the sofa, cross-legged, and toyed with my food.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Lori asked.
“I guess.” But eating wasn’t really on my mind anymore. My stomach was in knots and seeing David so preoccupied bothered me. He commanded ops in far more threatening situations than this, but this was new territory even for him.
“Something just occurred to me,” he said. “I don’t think the guy who called yesterday morning knew about your dream. No one can read minds, much as many people like to think they can. Now that I know our phone’s been tapped, I’m thinking that this guy heard our conversation and twisted it in his favor to make it seem like he did.”
“Meaning what?” I asked. “Someone’s eavesdropping?”
“One step ahead of you, D-Man, and that’s gonna be a big fat no.” Nat downed another forkful of lasagna. “When I found out about the phone tap, I got two men from PROs to sweep the house and your cars this morning. Seemed to make sense to do it, given what we knew. Anyway, we didn’t do a complete job but we were pretty thorough, and what we searched came up a big nada.”
“You think our house was bugged?”
“Yep. But far as I can tell, it wasn’t.”
And we were back to square one. “Then how did the caller know what I’d been dreaming about? It doesn’t make any sense.”
David went back to studying the yard, and I wondered if he was searching the trees and bushes for a stalker like I’d been. “Good question,” he said.
I pushed my plate away. “I’m with you on this one, David. People can’t read minds. We must be missing something.”
Lori picked up my plate and handed it back, daring me to deny myself a good meal. I took a bite but, like the beautiful day outdoors, just couldn’t enjoy it.
“I saw a man on one of those morning shows that could do it,” Lori said, serving Nat his third plateful. “Read minds, that is. This is going back a few months and I don’t remember details, but I do remember that he was really good at it.”
The rest of us paused and stared at her.
“I swear,” she said. “It’s true. He’s some big shot in the mind-reading world.”
“They have a world?” Nat asked.
Lori slapped Nat with a napkin. “You know what I mean. It’s not like he’s the only one who does it. But he’s an expert at it.”
“Mind reading is a farce, just like tarot cards and fortunetelling. It’s a means for people to fraud money off other people.” David joined us at the table and sat down. “I’m sure the guy was entertaining, but all you need is a little experience with people and some psychology to make it look like you can do those things.”
Lori made a face like she didn’t agree. “He knew things about the audience, David. Personal things that no one else could possibly know, and it was scary to watch. If that’s not mind reading, I don’t know what is.”
“Lottie’s a psychologist and she’s experienced with people,” Nat said. “Do you think you could mind read?”
Once, I went to a mind reader with friends at a college carnival. And she’d gotten everything about me all wrong. “That isn’t what this conversation is about,” I said. “This is about finding out how someone could know what I dreamt about. Or why someone would tap my phone.”
In This Life Page 6