Mac regretted his insistence on talking to the housekeeper. What should have been a friendly, businesslike chat had turned into a round of wills. So far, they were even. So far, Harriet had told him what she deemed necessary and nothing more. To make matters worse, she’d softened him up with homemade coffee cake, and coffee that tasted like real coffee and not the mud he brewed each morning. Now he felt even pulling out his credentials and citations from the police department wouldn’t impress the woman.
“If there’s something going on, I’ll find it and take care of it,” he assured her.
“You should have done that already.” Harriet’s pursed lips boded ill for Mac.
He quickly curved his arm around his plate, for fear she would take it from him. She smiled knowingly.
“It took a lot of prodding to get Dana to tell me what was going on,” Harriet said. “It all sounds frightening. You need to find out who’s terrorizing her. If you weren’t watching over her at night, I’d insist she come back here and stay.”
“This person is pretty clever at what she does. She seems to know just what buttons to push,” he explained. “Right now, it would be nice if she’d get bored and head for new territory.”
Harriet arched an eyebrow. “Do you honestly think that would happen?”
“No,” he said truthfully. The late-night phone call still had him feeling unsettled.
Harriet must have seen something in the shift of his expression. “If you hurt my girl, I will hurt you,” she promised.
He knew she would, too. “I haven’t hurt a client yet.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Mac sipped his coffee. “I don’t believe it’s right to get emotionally involved with my clients.” Sure, McKenna, that’s why you kissed her. “Of course, considering most of the people I deal with, I wouldn’t care to.” She was fixing him with a steady gaze that was downright unnerving. He eyed her with a narrow gaze. “Are you sure you’re not my mother in disguise?”
Harriet was still chuckling when Dana walked into the kitchen. Dana waved Harriet back to her seat as she headed for the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. She eyed Mac’s plate, which now bore only crumbs.
“You better have left some coffee cake.” She spotted it and cut a slice for herself, then carried the plate and coffee mug over to the counter. She chose the stool by Harriet.
“How was your mother?” Mac asked.
“Asleep.” She looked pensive as she drank her coffee. She turned to the housekeeper. “Is there a chance—” she paused, hating to put it into words “—a chance she’s being drugged with something that makes her sleep too much?” she asked.
Harriet looked shocked. “Of course not, dear. In fact, we talked for some time this morning when I took her her breakfast.”
“Then why is she asleep whenever I come here? I feel as if I should call first to see if she’s awake for my visit. But then I’m afraid she’d be asleep, anyway, when I arrive.” Dana looked ready to cry. She took a moment to compose herself before she turned to Mac. “I can’t let you see her. There’s nothing she could help you with. Not with her in this condition. If you want answers, you can get them from either me or Harriet.”
His gaze momentarily softened as he looked at her. “Don’t worry,” he assured her in a low voice. He stood up and picked up his jacket. “Harriet, it was nice meeting you, and anytime I can take you away from all this, give me a call.”
“Wait a minute.” Harriet wrapped the rest of the coffee cake in aluminum foil and handed it to him. She noticed Dana’s look of surprise. “Don’t be greedy, dear. I can always bake another one for you,” she said, wrapping her in a hug and kissing her on the cheek. “He’s good for you, dear. Hang on to him.”
“It’s just business,” she whispered back, even though she knew she didn’t sound all that convincing.
Harriet smiled. She knew she was lying.
As they walked outside, Dana stopped and looked up to her mother’s bedroom window.
Mac drew her into his arms. “Want me to run a check on your mother’s nurses?” he offered, adding with a slight grin, “No charge.”
She managed a weak smile. “It’s been so long since she and I have been able to talk. There’ve been so many times when I’ve been here and prayed she would open her eyes and talk to me. At first, even when she had trouble forming words, she would try to communicate with me. Now I feel as if she wants nothing to do with me. And I have no idea why.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt front.
He tunneled his hand under her hair, rubbing her neck in a soothing circular motion. “I’ve heard it said that sleep is an excellent healer. For all you know, one day you’ll come over here and she’ll greet you at the door.”
She sniffed. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I’ve already lost my father. I don’t want to lose my mother, too.”
Chapter 10
Dana’s sleep was invaded by the nightmare two nights later.
As before, she was six years old, wearing her favorite blue dress. The dress she had to admire by sitting in front of her mother’s mirror. And just as before, her reflection taunted her with the cruel words that no one loved her, that she wasn’t pretty. Then the taunts were followed by that otherworldly scream. Except this time, the words thrown at her were dark obscenities, and her reflection’s face was completely covered with blood.
When Dana woke up she was convinced she was screaming along with her reflection.
Unable to return to sleep, she pulled on a robe and walked through the dark house. She stopped in the living room long enough to partially pull back a drape. She now knew where Mac parked his truck. While she couldn’t easily see it from the window, she had the comforting knowledge that he was there.
Call him.
She didn’t think twice as she returned to her bedroom and picked up her cordless phone.
“Yeah.” Mac’s low voice vibrated through her being.
“Mac?” she whispered.
“Dana?” His voice sharpened. “What’s wrong?”
“I almost feel silly now. It’s not as if I’m a small child who’s convinced there are ghosts in the closet.” She tried to make light of it, but her voice broke at the end. “I had that nightmare again.”
“Oh, honey,” he murmured. “Exactly the same?”
“Pretty much.”
She held on to the handset as she left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. There was enough moonlight streaming through the window that she didn’t need to turn on a light. She took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator, poured it into a saucepan and set it on the stove.
“Maybe a glass of wine would relax you,” he suggested. “Having some might help you get back to sleep.”
“I think I’d be better off with a cup of hot chocolate. The few times I’ve had a glass of wine before bed left me with a horrible headache in the morning.” She found the tin of Swiss cocoa she favored. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I guess I just needed to hear another voice.” Her laughter was shaky. “Maybe I should double-check for those ghosts.”
“Considering everything, I think it’s natural you’d feel spooked. If all you wanted was a voice, you could have turned on the television,” he said, not unkindly.
“It’s not the same,” she protested, adjusting the flame under the pan. “They can’t tell you everything’s all right,” she said.
Silence hovered on the other end. “Want me to come over?”
Mac. In her kitchen at three in the morning. Her in a nightgown and robe. The atmosphere would be as intimate as a bedroom. She heard a soft woof in the background.
“Is that Duffy?” she asked.
“He’s in lust over a poodle three houses down from you,” he explained.
“I thought Duffy had ‘the operation.”’
“He did, but I learned long ago that doesn’t stop him from having crushes on cute little girl dogs that ring his chimes.”
“It sounds more like Du
ffy is obsessed with poodles.”
“He’s always liked petite girls.” Mac chuckled. “Duffy has a wide romantic streak in him.”
She started rummaging through her refrigerator and pulled out a package of hamburger. “I may not have a cute little dog, but I can offer him a hamburger.”
“We’ll be right over.” The line clicked in her ear.
Dana wasted no time in turning off the alarm and unlocking the back door. She had a hunch Mac would come in that way. She turned down the heat under the milk pot and started shaping a hamburger patty. It wasn’t long before the door opened and Mac and Duffy walked in. The dog loped over to Dana and rubbed his face against her robe.
“Hey, back off,” Mac ordered, pausing long enough to reset the alarm.
Duffy looked at Dana and whined.
“You have to wait until it’s finished cooking,” she told him.
“You didn’t have to do that for him.” Mac leaned against a counter and watched her turning the meat patty over.
“Of course I did. I thought he’d prefer a hamburger for a late-night snack. Would you like some hot chocolate?” She turned the hamburger patty over and picked up the milk pot.
“Sure.”
Dana fixed two mugs and placed them on the table. Once the hamburger patty was finished cooking, she set it aside to cool.
Mac picked up a chair and turned it around. He started to pick up the mug, but she stayed his hand. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Irish Cream liqueur.
“Want a little extra?” She held up the bottle.
“Sure. You won’t have wine but you’ll add some liqueur to your hot chocolate?” He held up the mug.
Dana poured a healthy dose in each mug. “This doesn’t give me a headache,” she explained. Before she sat down, she placed the cooked hamburger patty in a bowl and cut it up in pieces. She set it down on the floor. Duffy immediately headed for the bowl and wolfed down the contents.
Mac sipped the hot drink and nodded in approval. “This is good.” He waited to speak until Dana had drunk some of her hot chocolate and seemed more relaxed. “Any reason why you think your nightmare returned? Anything happen earlier tonight that might have triggered it?”
She cradled her mug in her hands for what comfort it could offer her.
“As you know, I came home at a reasonable hour. I had a salad and grilled chicken breast for dinner. I watched television for a while, took a shower, then went to bed. I read for about an hour, then turned off my light. I don’t think I was asleep for very long before it began.”
Considering her warm nightgown and robe, she looked as if she were cold. Her hair was tousled waves, as if she hadn’t bothered brushing it when she got up. There wasn’t a trace of makeup on her face and the fragrance coming from her skin was light and powdery.
“It’s starting to eat you up,” Mac said in a voice that inferred he knew what he was talking about. “Now that it’s made its way into your head, it’s refusing to leave.”
“You’re making it sound like some sort of nasty parasite,” Dana commented. She turned her head to look down at Duffy, who dozed peacefully sprawled on the floor. “But then, if that was the case, all I’d need is some medication. Of course, it still might be all I need.”
Mac shook his head. “That won’t get rid of it.”
“Speaking as one who knows?” she murmured as she picked up the two mugs and carried them over to the sink.
“Every cop has nightmares about something. Don’t ever let one of them tell you different. Leaving the force doesn’t make them go away, either.” Mac rested his arms along the back of the chair and watched her movements as she rinsed out the mugs and Duffy’s dish.
Anyone looking in the window would think of them as a couple who’d decided to have a late-night snack. The dog lying nearby added to the domestic picture. They probably looked like something out of Good Housekeeping magazine.
“Why do you think you dream about that blue dress?”
Dana paused in her movements. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe I saw a little girl wearing a blue dress and absently thought of mine for some reason.”
“And why the blood?”
She frowned as she took her thoughts backward in time. “Funny, I didn’t remember it until just now. Maybe it’s because I’ve been talking about it. I was wearing the dress when I had my accident.”
Mac turned to her. “The one you mentioned before?”
Dana nodded. “As I told you before, I don’t remember very much about what happened.”
“Close your eyes and think back to that time,” he pressed. “Maybe something will come to you that you didn’t remember before.”
She obeyed his suggestion and tried to relax. “I was climbing on a chair so I could reach a toy. I fell and hit my head. I still have the scar.” She absently rubbed her scalp near her hairline. “The fall pretty much knocked out the memory of those first six years.” She laughed softly. “When I was in college, I asked my mother if the memory block was because I’d suffered some sort of shock. I had myself convinced it could have been due to some traumatic event while potty training or something. She was horrified I would think such a thing and told me I’d hit my head and that was all there was to it.”
Mac stared at the wall, not seeing the colorful pictures. His mind was too busy sorting information. “I’m not an expert, but from what little I know, I don’t remember hearing a knock on the head like that would cause amnesia,” Mac commented. “At least, it normally wouldn’t happen unless something that preceded the injury was disturbing enough to make a person want to forget it.”
“Considering the worst punishment I ever received was no dessert, I can’t imagine there was ever anything that distressing in my past.” Her features clouded over. “Just my present.”
“But why couldn’t your past be trying to tell you something about your present?” Mac asked.
Dana was startled by his question. “You think the two are somehow connected?”
“Why not? Any other reason why you would dream of yourself when you were six? Maybe you’re having this nightmare because something deep inside you is trying to tell you something. Trying to point out something happened to you during that time. Which just might have something to do with your accident.”
Dana kept shaking her head as if just doing so would mean there was no truth to his words. As if she didn’t want to believe it could be that simple.
Mac mentally cast about for anything that could help them. Could it be that one little thing that was the answer to everything?
“What could Harriet tell us about that period in your life?”
“She didn’t come to work for my parents until afterward. I can’t imagine she would know anything about it, unless my father or mother happened to mention it to her. And I can’t think why they would do that.”
Dana’s eyes looked bruised with fatigue. She covered her face with her hands. “All we’ve done is raise more questions,” she said. “This is so frustrating, Mac! What do we know so far? Not enough to find out who’s doing this.”
She looked around the kitchen and off to the family room. “From the day I saw this house, I knew I’d found exactly what I was looking for. I was an answer to a realtor’s prayer. The moment I entered I felt as if I’d come home. I had hoped for something that would give me even a fraction of the comfort and security my parents felt with their home. I felt it here.” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “The feeling is gone,” she whispered sadly.
“Only if you let it.” Mac stood up and walked around the table to her. “Come on, Dana. It’s time for you to try to go back to sleep.”
She looked up at him with mute appeal. Eyes a deep blue shimmered with unshed tears.
He tugged on her hand and pulled her to her feet, then guided her down the hallway until they reached her room.
When he entered the room, he pulled her robe off and tucked her into bed as carefully as if she were a small child. After he dr
aped the covers over her, he made ready to leave.
“Mac.” She grabbed hold of his hand. “Please, I don’t want to be alone.”
He knew that she didn’t mean anything by asking him to stay. She just needed to know he was there.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged off his shoes. He laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms. His palm cradled her head, holding it against his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Dana. Go to sleep. I’m here now,” he said softly.
He lay back on the pillow with her curled up next to him. He soon felt her body grow lax as she drifted off to sleep.
He lay awake, listening to the silence surrounding them. Just before he fell asleep he was aware of Duffy stealthily climbing onto the bed and stretching out along the end.
“She may not be too happy to see you up here, buddy,” he whispered.
Duffy gave a doggie shrug and plopped his head back down.
Mac had a fleeting thought before he fell asleep that this was just too family-like. And way too nice.
The first thing Dana noticed when she woke up was the sound of the shower running. The second was the heavy weight on her feet.
She lifted her head to find Duffy. The dog was still asleep, his body moving up and down as he dreamed. His body twitched from doggie dreams.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she smelled coffee.
“Duffy?”
“Sorry about that. I guess he thought you needed a chaperon.”
Dana turned her head. Mac stood in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a towel hitched around his hips. His hair was still damp and stuck out in spikes, and he was unshaven. He hadn’t fully dried off, and water droplets clung to the mat of curling dark hair on his chest.
She hoped she wasn’t drooling.
“Do I smell coffee?” she asked hopefully.
Not the greatest of opening lines, but she wasn’t used to waking up with a dog half lying on top of her and a nearly naked man coming out of her bathroom.
Mirror, Mirror Page 14