Scent of Roses ; Season of Strangers

by Kat Martin

  “Want to tell me about it? Believe it or not, I can be a very good listener.”

  Her chin went up, a gesture she and Julie had inherited from their mother. “Go ahead, Julie. Tell him what I said. I’m sure he’ll get a laugh out of it.”

  Concerned blue eyes swung in Julie’s direction. It was a look she hadn’t expected, a look that promised understanding.

  Julie sighed. “Laura believes she’s been taken aboard a spaceship.”

  For a moment he said nothing. “Is that all? I thought it was something important.”

  Laura smiled faintly, and Julie plunged ahead. “She’s convinced it’s the truth. She believes it totally and completely.” She took a deep breath and rushed on, suddenly defensive of her sister. “She isn’t the first person to claim such a thing, you know. I’ve read articles about it in the newspaper. I don’t remember exactly what they said, but I know it’s called alien abduction. It isn’t absolutely impossible. Just because it can’t be verified doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not the truth.”

  A corner of his mouth curved up. “No, I don’t suppose it does.” He studied her a moment, then returned his attention to Laura. “On the other hand, wouldn’t it be more comforting to believe that perhaps it was some sort of trick, some illusion of the mind? Then you could work through the problem and come to some solution. You wouldn’t have to constantly be afraid.”

  Laura mulled that over, sat up a little straighter on the couch. She smoothed a wrinkle from the lap of her blue silk skirt. “It would be more comforting, Patrick. It would be the best news in the world. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be the truth.”

  He took hold of her hand, clasping her slim fingers tightly. “How can you be so sure?”

  Laura bit down on her lip, which had started to tremble. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, and Julie’s heart turned over. Dear God, she wished she knew how to help her.

  “I don’t know why I’m so sure,” Laura said. “I just am. I suppose once you remember something that awful, something so terrible it paralyzes you with fear, it just won’t let you pretend it isn’t real.”

  “What do you think Dr. Heraldson will say?” Julie asked gently.

  “I—I don’t know. I’m sure he’ll think I’m crazy, just like everyone else.” She got up from the sofa, stood there staring out the windows.

  “You’re not still thinking of going home?” Julie asked as Laura eyed the door.

  “Stay here, Laura,” Patrick softly commanded. “I promise you’ll be safe. Tonight there’s no reason for you to be afraid.” There was something in the way he said it. An authority that gave the words a ring of truth.

  Laura looked into his eyes for several long moments, then she nodded. “All right I’ll stay here.” She turned away from him. “I’m awfully tired, Julie. I think I’ll go to bed.”

  “That’s a good idea. After a good night’s sleep you’ll feel better.” Julie rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to ignore the piercing pain behind her eyes. “We can talk again in the morning.”

  Laura stopped and turned. Her dress was wrinkled and long blond tendrils of hair had come loose from her chignon. “Good night, Patrick.”

  “Good night, Laura.”

  “I’ll check on you before I go to bed,” Julie called after her, feeling a tug on her heart at her sister’s forlorn expression, not far from tears herself.

  As soon as Laura left the room, she reached over and turned down the lamp, the bright rays of light suddenly painful. Her head was pounding, throbbing like a hammer against the anvil of her skull. “I’m so worried about her, Patrick.” She massaged her temple then felt Patrick beside her, easing her down on the couch.

  “Hush,” he whispered. “No more talk about Laura. At least not tonight. I want you to relax.” He urged her onto her stomach, then began to massage her shoulders and neck.

  “It looks like there are two Ferris women who need looking after tonight.”

  She took a deep breath and slowly released it, feeling a deep relaxation as Patrick kneaded her muscles. “Ummm,” she mumbled, grateful for the power in his long-fingered hands. Two months ago, she would have been afraid to let him touch her, sure he was only after the chance to get her in bed. Now whenever he looked at her, she read concern in his eyes. Concern…and something she couldn’t quite name.

  His fingers slid into the hair at the nape of her neck and a few seconds later, the pain began to ease. “Magic hands,” she whispered. “Now I understand why women find you so irresistible.”

  “I’ve been telling you that for years.”

  He worked on her for another fifteen minutes, until her body felt boneless and her headache was completely gone. But instead of falling asleep as she had before, this time she sat up on the sofa and Patrick sat down beside her.

  “Thank you for coming back.”

  He smiled, softening the sharp angles of his face. “I never intended to leave. I just knew the others wouldn’t go if I tried to stay.” He reached toward her, ran a long dark finger down her cheek. “You look a little better.” Eyes as blue as the sea fixed on her lips, and a ripple of heat shimmered through her.

  “I am…thanks to you.”

  “I’m glad.” His hand moved beneath her chin, tilting her head back with a firm but gentle pressure.

  Her eyes slid closed as he bent his head and covered her mouth with a kiss. Julie’s breath caught, seemed to swell inside her chest. His lips slanted softly over hers, molding them perfectly together, and a faint shudder passed through him. The kiss was firm and warm, yet not as demanding as she would have expected, the brush of his tongue seemed hesitant, almost a little uncertain. Before she was ready for the kiss to end, Patrick pulled away.

  He glanced down at his lap and her eyes followed. She saw that he was aroused. When he realized she had noticed, a slight flush rose over the bones across his cheeks.

  “You have very soft lips,” he said.

  “I—I shouldn’t have let you kiss me.”

  “Why not?”

  Julie sighed. “I’m not what you’re looking for, Patrick. We both know that. I never have been.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’ve known you for more than eight years. In that entire time, all you’ve ever wanted from me was to take me to bed.”

  “I still want that. Right now I want it so much it hurts. But this time my reasons are different.”

  “Different?” She looked into his eyes and fought a sudden urge to run. She shouldn’t be listening to him. She knew the kind of man he was, no matter what he said. “How…how are they different?”

  A tender smile curved his lips. “I want to make love to you so that I can know you. I want to discover what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. If I’m inside you, perhaps I can know you in a way I never have.”

  Julie’s stomach tightened, soft heat sliding through her, seeping lower down. My God, the image he stirred: Patrick on top of her, stroking her breasts, burying his hard length inside her. Her body trembled, shuddered with desire for him. Dear God, no wonder women flocked to his bed.

  Julie got up from the sofa, turning her back on him. “I don’t…I don’t want to talk about this. Please, Patrick… I think you ought to leave.”

  Patrick stood up, too, but instead of heading for the door, she felt his hands on her shoulder, turning her to face him. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. There was nothing tentative, this time, nothing the least bit uncertain. This kiss was all fiery heat and pent-up desire, hard-soft lips and a hot, demanding tongue. Taut muscle bunched against the fullness of her breasts, making her nipples tighten and throb where they pressed against his chest.

  Patrick deepened the kiss, taking her mouth as if he owned it, stroking deeply, making the heat in her stomach slide hotly through her limbs. It h
ad been so long….

  And never, ever like this.

  Her fingers curled into his shirt, her heart hammered, and her mouth molded itself to his. For a moment she kissed him back, tasting the roughness of his tongue, feeling the seductive pressure of his lips, breathing in the subtle male scent of him. Hunger swirled through her, and a need so strong it shook her to the very core. Then doubts began to seep in, blocking the numbing haze of passion. Patrick’s hand on her breast sent a fission of heat straight through her, but with it came a cold hard dose of reason.

  You shouldn’t be doing this! Damn, she had to stop this from happening before it was too late!

  Pressing her palms against his chest, Julie broke away. Breathing too hard, her legs trembling, she backed up several paces, angry at herself for what she had almost let happen yet insanely, in some strange way, disappointed that it hadn’t occurred.

  “Don’t ever…don’t ever do that again, Patrick.”

  He looked at her but didn’t relent. She couldn’t recall when he had ever appeared so formidable. “I’ll promise you only this. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  A funny little sound slipped from her throat. Julie tried not to feel the hot burst of hunger. “Please go,” she said.

  He stared at her for long, silent moments, his shoulders a little stiffer, his posture straighter, drawing his tall frame even more upright. “I want to help you with Laura. We can’t let what’s happening between us affect what’s good for her.”

  What’s happening between us? What was he talking about? Dear God, she couldn’t afford to let anything happen between them. “How could you possibly be good for Laura? For thirty-five years, you haven’t been good for yourself.”

  His mouth curved cynically. “Perhaps that’s exactly the reason. Maybe I know better than anyone else what it is to feel so alone.” The clock on the mantel ticked into the silence. He glanced off toward the windows. “Or perhaps it’s just that I want to help you.”

  “I don’t need your help. Laura and I will be fine on our own.” She walked over and opened the door. “Good night, Patrick.”

  He moved toward the opening, paused a moment in front of her, and his hand came up to her cheek. “You’re frightened of me, Julie, but you don’t have to be. I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

  Julie glanced away from him but said nothing more, just stood in silence while he made his way out onto the porch. She watched him descend the stairs, feeling shaken and oddly alone, wondering how her life had suddenly turned upside down.

  Wondering what in God’s name she was going to do about it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Brian Heraldson sat across the desk from the petite redhead and the tall slender blonde. Laura Ferris had insisted her sister come along when she listened for the first time to the tapes of her previous sessions. She told him about the incident at Julie’s birthday dinner and repeatedly said that the experiences she remembered had actually occurred.

  She was even more convinced when she heard herself on the tape of the previous sessions.

  As the tape came to a close, tears welled in her eyes. “They took me,” she whispered, the wetness beginning to roll down her cheeks. “They stripped off my clothes and stuck their instruments inside my body, just like I said on the tape.” She sat there on the gray leather sofa, clutching her sister’s hand. “I remember the shuffling sound of their feet on the deck and the next thing I knew they were standing there in the guest room. They didn’t come in through the door—they were just suddenly there.”

  “Take it easy, Laura,” he said when she began to cry harder. “You’re safe in here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  Her head came up. She wiped her eyes with the tissue Julie gave her. “You think I’m safe? Well, I don’t. I don’t think I’m safe anywhere. I think they can take me whenever they want.”

  He sat forward in his chair, hoping to deflect her hostility. It bothered him to feel it directed toward him. “What happened after they came into the guest room? During the hypnosis session you couldn’t seem to recall.”

  “I remember much more since the night of Julie’s birthday party. I know they carried me across the deck and down the stairs, across the sand to a place beneath the cliffs. They wrapped me in something…it was pliable, flexible somehow, and it molded itself around me. I remember floating upward, lifting through the air, watching the house recede beneath me. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in that terrible room.”

  She sniffed several times, then started crying again. Julie tightened her grip on Laura’s hand.

  “They examined you…is that right, Laura?”

  She nodded, her head hanging forward, a curtain of long pale hair falling over her dark brown eyes. Brian ignored a rush of pity, and an unfamiliar tightening in his chest.

  “I felt humiliated…violated. I wanted to kill them for what they were doing.”

  “What did they look like?”

  Laura’s head came up and so did Julie’s. Apparently it was the first time anyone had thought to ask.

  “I’m…I’m not sure. I don’t think they all looked the same. The ones who came into my room were shorter than the others. And those all looked pretty much alike. They were kind of like soldiers, I think.”

  “Go on,” he urged gently.

  “They had big round heads but their chins were sort of pointed—you know, kind of like the pictures of aliens you see in cartoons, except there was nothing funny about them. And they had huge black, bottomless eyes.”

  “Bottomless?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when you looked into them, you couldn’t see anything but darkness. Like a great black pool so deep you couldn’t see the end.”

  “What were they wearing?” Julie asked, studying her sister with renewed interest.

  “Dark blue coveralls. Their skin was leathery and gray.” She shivered. “The others were taller. I don’t remember much about them, but in time maybe I will. The images are returning, getting a little clearer every day. In a way that’s what frightens me most.”

  “You’re afraid of what you’ll recall?” Brian asked.

  “Yes. The more I remember, the more certain I am that this really happened.” She shook her head. “I also know that if I mention it, if I tell anyone about it, they’re going to think I’m crazy, that I’m some kind of freak.”

  Julie turned her gaze in Brian’s direction. He noticed that her gray slacks were damp where she’d wiped her sweaty palms. Listening to Laura, Brian found his own palms sweating.

  “I know all of this sounds absurd,” Julie said, “but is it possible, Dr. Heraldson, that what Laura thinks happened is real? I read something in the Sunday Times…I remember there was a picture on the front of the Parade section, a drawing of an alien like Laura described. I remember they interviewed a number of different people who claimed to be victims of alien abduction.”

  “Is it possible Laura might have read the article, too?”

  Laura shook her head. “No. I never read the paper. I don’t even watch the news. They never report anything but bombings and murders—why would I want to watch that?”

  “Is it possible, Doctor?” Julie pressed.

  It was a question Brian had been asking himself since Julie had called him at home Sunday morning. She had told him about Laura’s wild reaction to the helicopter the night before and he had suggested she come in first thing on Monday.

  “I’ll be honest with both of you. I don’t believe in alien abduction. I don’t think Laura was taken aboard a spacecraft full of little gray men. I believe the problem is rooted in Laura’s childhood, that whatever it was may have been magnified by the abortion she experienced during her teenage years. Odds are, something happened fairly recently to set these long suppressed anxieties in
motion.”

  He sat forward in his chair. “On the other hand, there is a growing number of people who claim to have experienced phenomena like Laura has described. I would be remiss in my duties if I discouraged either of you from investigating the possibility that Laura’s experiences are real.”

  The women stared at him in silence. Brian spun in his chair, pulled open a lower desk drawer, and began to ruffle through the files. When he found what he was looking for, he pulled out the folder and laid it on his desk.

  “A colleague of mine, a doctor named Aaron Newburg who went to school with me at USC, had a patient claiming to be a victim of alien abduction. After extensive treatment, the patient remained convinced the events were real. Dr. Newburg put him in touch with a man named Budd Hopkins. Hopkins is touted as one of the main forces behind investigating UFO-alien abductions. Since he lived so far away, Hopkins referred the patient to a psychologist protégé of his named Peter Winters. Winters runs a therapy group here in L.A. for people who claim to be victims.”

  Laura straightened, drawing herself up on the sofa. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing. Julie said something Saturday night about other people who believed this had happened to them, but at the time I was too upset to listen. Now you’re telling me the same thing. If people say they’re being abducted, why won’t anyone believe them?”

  “I’m telling you there are other people who claim this has happened. That doesn’t mean it’s true. In my estimation, the best thing you could do would be to accept these fantasies as delusions and work with me to arrive at the root of the problem. However, if you think it would make you feel better, perhaps you should speak to Dr. Winters. At least among members of his group, you’ll be able to tell your story without fear of ridicule.”

  Laura bit her lip, her courage suddenly fading. “I don’t know…what do you think, Julie?”

  The older sister looked pensive, dark-red eyebrows drawn together above the bridge of her upturned, lightly freckled nose. “I think we should definitely speak to Dr. Winters. It couldn’t hurt and maybe it will help.”