Читать книгу The Rescuer - Ellen James - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

MAIN STREET IN SOBRIETY, Idaho, consisted of several blocks of ornate, redbrick buildings, facing each other like proper Victorian ladies and gentlemen in an old-fashioned line dance. Alex wandered along, stopping occasionally to gaze through store windows at any number of knickknacks. She knew that when you were a tourist you took leave of your senses and bought silly refrigerator magnets, gaudy teacups and cheap sweatshirts. Of course, Alex wasn’t in Sobriety as a tourist, and so far she’d managed to restrain herself.

“Hey, Dr. Alex.”

The voice came from behind her, deep and easy. Colin’s voice. She turned around and faced him with at least the appearance of calm.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m surprised to see you, Colin. Our appointment isn’t for two hours.”

“Appointment... that’s such an official-sounding word. How about we make it a date, instead?”

She saw the humor in his eyes and knew she ought to say something repressive. But all she could do was stand there gazing at him, in the middle of the sidewalk. Today he wore jeans and a blue-gray polo shirt. He looked dangerously handsome.

Alex still felt humiliated over what had happened yesterday, the way she’d lost control and panicked at that video. Worst of all was knowing that Colin had seen her reaction. She’d been trying to prove how strong she was, how in control... and she’d proved just the opposite.

“Had a busy day?” he asked now.

“Yes,” she lied. She’d wanted to keep away from him until this evening. A little time alone, she’d told herself. Surely that was all she needed. But almost twenty-four hours had gone by since she’d last seen him and she still felt the same mixture of fascination and foreboding.

She started walking again, Colin keeping pace beside her. “I’ve had a very interesting day, in fact,” she said. “I’ve learned that the big news in Sobriety is the ghost at the mining museum, but you have to be there at midnight to have any hope of seeing it.”

Colin looked disgruntled. “Who’s spreading the ghost stories?”

“Let’s see...the lady at the drugstore.” Alex didn’t mention that she’d bought another mystery there. “And the man at the gas station. Oh, yes, and Denise at Maggie’s Diner. She was the first person who told me about it. Apparently the ghost is a miner who died in a cave-in back in 1902.”

Colin looked positively pained.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “You don’t like ghost stories?”

“Depends on the ghost,” he said. “So, Alex...you haven’t told me whether you’re going out with me tonight.”

“Colin,” she said firmly, “I didn’t come all the way to Idaho so we could date.”

As they walked, he took her hand in his. “Sometimes things happen that you don’t expect. Like dating.”

“You’re just trying to get out of being part of my study,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

Right now she wasn’t sure of anything. Except that holding hands with the most attractive man she’d ever known was definitely not a good idea.

“Colin,” she said. “I’m not officially divorced yet.”

He twined his fingers through hers. “Okay, we won’t call it a date. We’ll just go out to dinner.”

At last she had the fortitude to pull away. “You know, if you cooperated a little,” she told him, “we could actually make some progress. The sooner that happens, the sooner you’ll be rid of me.”

Colin took her hand again and brought her to a stop. “What makes you think I want to get rid of you, Alex?”

She looked into his eyes and saw the humor still there. But she saw something else, something that sent a treacherous warmth all through her. When at last she wrenched her gaze from him, it did no good. Now she saw a reflection of her and Colin in a shop window. Saw the way she was leaning toward him just a bit, as if he were a magnet drawing her. She knew body language, and she knew what her body was saying now.

She pulled away from him a second time, taking a step back. “Colin, I’m not going on a date with you. Not only am I still a married woman, but I’m a researcher. It isn’t exactly ethical for a researcher to get involved with her...subject. Whether you like it or not, I am researching you.”

“Even researchers have to eat dinner,” he said. “Besides, I have a confession. Tonight my grandfather’s giving Sean a cooking lesson and I’d just as soon steer clear.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Playing hooky?”

He appeared serious for once. “You could say that. I’ve spent the past few days trying to get through to Sean, and I’m further away than when I started. No matter what I say, he thinks it sucks. So here I am...taking a break from my own son.”

Alex gazed at Colin, and this time what she saw was a perplexed father looking for answers. That got to her more than anything.

“So, what time is this dinner thing of ours?” she wanted to know.

ALEX WONDERED IF SHE’D ever seen anything so beautiful. She’d run into Colin in downtown Sobriety less than an hour ago, but already he’d whisked her away for their “dinner.” They were now driving in his Jeep up one of Idaho’s deep green, pine-forested mountains. Far below, Silver Lake shone molten in the setting sun.

“Breathtaking,” Alex murmured.

“Sometimes I forget what it’s like up here,” Colin said, “and I let too much time go by without coming back.”

She glanced at him. “You look like someone who belongs in these mountains,” she said. “They’re ominous and gorgeous all at once.”

“Ominous...and gorgeous,” he said in a doubtful tone. “Is that what you think of me?”

She regretted her choice of words. She did think he was gorgeous, but there’d been no reason to say so.

“I wish you’d tell me where we’re going,” she said.

“Don’t you like surprises, Alex? Me, I can’t stand previews. I prefer the unexpected.” He took the winding road expertly, driving a little on the fast side but always in control.

“You really are the Type R male,” she told him.

“Lord, not that again.”

“That’s what I’m here for, remember? The Type R usually knows just how far he can go. He pushes a situation right to the edge but knows when to draw back. Of course,” she said reflectively, “according to your boss, you don’t always know.”

“Alex, we’re on a date, remember?”

“No date,” she said. “Just dinner.”

He downshifted for a curve in the road, and then the Jeep surged forward again. The road took them to the very top of the mountain.

Colin turned into a gravel parking lot and came to a stop in front of a large log building. He frowned. “What the heck...?”

“Something unexpected?” Alex asked.

“I’ll say. There used to be a fancy restaurant here. The kind of place you’d bring a date to when you wanted to impress her.”

They got out of the Jeep and approached the rustic building. Rock music blasted from within, and a sign over the door read simply, The Pub.

“Give me a break,” Colin said.

Alex hooked her arm through his. “Lighten up. We’re welcoming surprises...remember?”

“What has you in such a good mood?” he grumbled.

“Finding out that the Type R man is like the rest of us. Now and then he likes things to be predictable, too.”

Colin looked disgruntled, but they went inside. The air was murky; the decor consisted of roughhewn tables and chairs, a jukebox and a cramped bar. The place was crowded with people who appeared to have an average age of twenty-one.

Alex led the way to one of the few empty tables by the window, and she and Colin sat across from each other. The music from the loudspeakers blared right above them.

Colin got up and went to the jukebox. He dropped in a few coins, punched a few buttons. The loudspeaker cut out as the jukebox took over. Early 1960s rock replaced the 1990s variety.

Colin sat down again and picked up the menu in front of him. “The roast beef sandwich doesn’t sound so bad.”

“I’m starving,” Alex pronounced. “I’ll eat anything.”

Surprisingly the food turned out to be delicious. The sandwiches were on thick, crusty bread and came with crisp onion rings and fresh alfalfa sprouts. The beer was imported and served in frosty glasses.

Colin settled back in his seat. “Want to tell me about it?” he asked.

“About what?” she murmured idly.

“About what happened yesterday at my grandfather’s house. About what had you so scared.”

“You really know how to ruin a good mood,” she complained. “I suppose you brought me up here just so you could grill me about—”

“Hey, I’m not the shrink here. But I can tell when somebody’s bothered about something.” He frowned. “Take my son, for instance. I know he’s unhappy. Not that I know why—since he isn’t exactly forthcoming. Then again, neither are you, Alex.”

She stared down at the table, running her fingers across the rough surface. She could pretend nothing was wrong or she could tell the truth. Unfortunately she didn’t really know what the truth was.

“Colin,” she said reluctantly at last. “I wish I understood it myself. Ever since I first saw that video...I’ve had a reaction that I can’t explain. There’s something about that fire, and something about you. Something disturbing, maybe even frightening.” She waved a hand in frustration. “But when I try to figure out what it is...it’s like fighting my way through fog. I can’t see anything. All I have are feelings, and murky ones at that. You and I never even met until I came to Sobriety. So what is it about you and that video that makes me so uneasy?”

Colin looked thoughtful. “If a patient came to you with this, what would you do?”

She sighed. “I’d try to find out if the uneasiness was linked to something in the patient’s past. But, Colin—that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. I’ve been looking into my past and searching for some connection. I just don’t see any! I’ve had such an ordinary, uneventful life.”

“Nobody’s life is really uneventful,” he remarked. “I don’t need a shrink to tell me that.”

She gave him an exasperated glance. “Here are the facts. I grew up in Montana. My father died of heart disease when I was six years old. My mother had a difficult time afterward, but she managed to raise me single-handedly. When I was eighteen, I went off to Chicago for college. I got my degree, went to graduate school, got married...and now the divorce. That’s it. I know your next question, of course. Could I be repressing some memory that gets triggered by that damn video, by you. Well, anything’s possible, I suppose. But like I’ve said, my life has been ordinary. There’s absolutely nothing in my background to indicate hidden traumas or such.”

Colin drank his beer. “What would you tell a patient who said something like that?”

The man truly was aggravating. “Oh, all right. I’d say that even the most innocent-looking life can hold secrets...but, dammit, that doesn’t mean my life has secrets.”

He didn’t answer, just gazed at her steadily. It was worse than if he’d tried to argue with her. Fortunately, her dessert arrived just then, giving her something else to focus on. Unfortunately by now she was too keyed up to enjoy the piece of peach pie as she ought.

Now she felt a sadness inside that was becoming all too familiar. She stared out the window, hoping Colin wouldn’t notice.

“You might as well talk about it,” he said.

“Just that divorce is rotten.”

“Even more rotten than a marriage gone bad?” he asked.

She ate a bite of peach pie. “The waste of it is what I hate most,” she said. “You try so hard to build something, to make it work. All those years...and then it’s over. All for nothing.”

“Sort of like an investment that didn’t pan out,” Colin suggested.

Alex shook her head. “That sounds too cold and logical. Marriage and divorce aren’t like that. They’re messy and irrational...Colin, don’t you wish sometimes you could just start over? Erase your mistakes as if they’d never happened?”

“Sure,” he admitted. “Maybe, if I could go back, I’d realize Beth and I weren’t suited for each other. Except Sean came out of the marriage. Maybe that means it wasn’t such a mistake.”

“Kids make a difference,” Alex said, and she couldn’t keep the wistfulness from her voice. “When you’re getting divorced, people tell you to be grateful you don’t have children. But if Jonathan and I had had a family...” She trailed off, not wanting to say the rest.

Colin, however, wouldn’t let the subject go. “I take it you wanted kids, and he didn’t.”

“No,” she said with an odd calm. “It was the other way around. He wanted children. He thought it would save the marriage. When he was feeling good, he could make it sound so wonderful...how it would be once we had a family. But I kept saying no. You see, Jonathan was becoming so moody and angry with me... why would he be any different with a child?” She stopped. She feared that if she said anything more, all the sorrow and pain and regret inside her would come tumbling out. And Colin, sitting there contemplatively, would see it all.

But then, to her relief, he was the one who broke the moment.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

Only a short time later, they were in the Jeep again, headlights penetrating the deep Idaho night. They drove along the mountain summit and eventually turned onto a steep dirt road. The Jeep bounced along, then came to a halt in front of a wooden fence.

“I give up,” Colin said wryly. “This used to be Make-out Lane. Now there’s a No Trespassing sign.”

“Everything changes, I guess.”

“Funny, the whole time I was growing up I couldn’t wait to get out of Idaho. All I wanted was something different—something more exciting. But in the back of my mind, seems I wanted everything here to stay the same.”

She could understand that. You needed a constant in your life, something you could count on somehow. “Colin...relax. I think we’re having a good time almost in spite of ourselves. And maybe things haven’t changed all that much. You’re up here with a girl....”

“Not just any girl.” He turned toward her.

The bucket seats of the Jeep made things awkward, but Alex found herself leaning into the curve of his arm. She stayed like that for what seemed a long moment, and it felt good...too good. Until now, she’d been able to control the way Colin made her feel. She’d managed to dismiss any stirrings of attraction, any hints of desire. But with his arm around her like this, she could no longer dismiss the craving she felt.

His fingers brushed over her cheek in a slow caress...and then another caress. She remained motionless, almost breathless, as his touch awakened all her senses. At last he tilted her face toward his.

“Colin,” she whispered. He didn’t answer, not in words. Instead, he brought his lips to hers.

This was no tentative first kiss, no tepid exploration. It was raw need, powerful and overwhelming. Alex felt as if she had been swept off the mountaintop. She clung to Colin, and molded herself closer to him, and opened her mouth willingly to him.

But all the while she knew what a mistake it was.

SOBRIETY’S SMALL MINING museum hardly seemed a place to be haunted. Tucked away on one of the side streets off Main, it housed a modest collection of pickaxes, shovels, water canteens, rusty pocketknives and other paraphernalia left behind by long-ago miners. It had a friendly, unimposing, somewhat dusty atmosphere. Colin figured that any self-respecting ghost would pick a more evocative locale—one of the town’s old saloons, for example. If Herb wanted to stage more hauntings, he should consider that. Then again, Colin didn’t intend to put any ideas in his grandfather’s head.

He pushed open the door of the museum and went inside. Lillian Prescott, his grandfather’s fifty-nine-year-old girlfriend, glanced up from behind the souvenir counter.

“Colin, I’m so glad you’re here.” She went to the door, put up the Closed sign and came back again. Lillian had an air of mystery about her, which Colin suspected she deliberately cultivated. Rumor had it that when she’d gone away to college back in the late fifties, she’d had a couple of affairs and become, in Sobriety terms, a woman of the world. That she’d returned home eventually and settled down hadn’t quelled the rumors any. Every six months or so when she went off to Boise for a couple of days without telling anyone why, people liked to speculate that she was going to rendezvous with her married lover. Lillian fueled the speculation by saying nothing at all. For all Colin knew, Herb had some serious competition in Boise.

“Colin,” she said now in a distressed tone, “you have to stop your grandfather. I just found out he’s planning to bring a parapsychologist to town—a ghost expert.”

“He’s really getting into the spirit of this thing,” Colin remarked. “No pun intended.”

Lillian gave him a withering glance. “You’re not taking this seriously enough. I mean, he’s actually advertising to get someone out here. He says somebody trying to verify the town haunting will increase its authenticity.” She groaned and sank onto the stool behind the counter. “Forgive me for telling you this, Colin, but your grandfather is nuts.”

“That’s some way to talk about your significant other.”

Lillian’s expression became guarded. “Please don’t get in the habit of saying that. I took you into my confidence only as a last resort.”

“Why not just admit to the world that you’re seeing Herb?” Colin asked. “What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “I just don’t think the entire town needs to know about my personal life. What I do is my own business.”

“Do you think people would care—”

“In this town they’d care, all right,” she said. “Folks don’t have enough to do, so they sit around talking about one another...and I refuse to be anybody’s topic of conversation.”

Colin figured something else was at stake here, but Lillian was already changing the subject.

“You and I have more important things to discuss,” she said. “Such as what will happen when the town finds out Herbie is bringing in an expert to document his bogus ghost.”

It was an interesting twist, Colin had to admit. “Okay, I’ll try talking to him again. But you know what my chances are.”

Now Lillian looked worried. “Somebody’s got to stop him before it’s too late. He’ll ruin everything—his reputation, his political career...”

Colin didn’t think being mayor of Sobriety qualified as a political career, but he didn’t want to tamper with Lillian’s illusions.

“What’s he doing it for?” she went on. “All this nonsense about a ghost being good for the town—I don’t buy that for a second.”

“Maybe he just wants to prove he can shake up the place,” Colin said. “Nobody else has tried that in a long time.”

“Nobody but your father. All those years ago... he was a bit wild, Colin, but so talented. So full of life and energy and charm. The way everyone used to turn out for those high school basketball games just because your dad was playing.”

Colin had long since grown accustomed to how people in Sobriety spoke of his father. They always had some story about Thomas McIntyre...high school basketball star, war hero, town golden boy. But none of the stories ever seemed quite real to Colin. They were too much the stuff of legend, too easily recounted, as if people had forgotten about the flesh-and-blood Thomas behind the glorious achievements. Colin had been ten when his father died, old enough to have memories of his own, yet he’d heard the stories so many times they’d taken over.

Lillian was rearranging the pieces of quartz and silver ore on display behind the glass counter. “Something’s just occurred to me,” she said.

“What we really need is a psychologist—not a parapsychologist. What about that shrink of yours, Colin? Is she trustworthy?”

Colin observed Lillian dourly. “Who says I have a shrink?”

“For crying out loud,” Lillian said, “have you forgotten what this town is like? Everyone knows you took her out to dinner last night. Ben Morris saw you at The Pub, and you know what a gossip he is. Why else do you figure I have to work so hard to keep my life private?”

Colin thought about last evening with Alex. He’d been thinking about it a lot...how it had felt to hold her in his arms those few moments. He’d wanted to go on holding her, but for her that hadn’t been an option. He’d never known anyone who tried so hard to stay in control. The soon-to-be ex-husband must have really damaged her somehow. Or maybe something else was to blame.

“Colin,” said Lillian, “I’m just asking if this Dr. Alex Robbins is discreet.”

“She’s not about to go gossiping with Ben Morris.”

“You don’t need to tell her any details about me, Colin. Just ask her to talk to your grandpa. Ask her to set him straight about this ghost nonsense.”

“Psychologists aren’t like auto mechanics,” Colin said. “They can’t just schedule an appointment to fix somebody’s transmission.”

“Well, we’d better do something, or we’ll have a parapsychologist on our hands. Is that what you want?”

He didn’t know what he wanted, it seemed. In the past, when he’d started to feel the old restlessness, he’d simply moved on, changed his life. But now things were more complicated. He had a grandfather who wasn’t getting any younger. And he had a son who’d grown up too quickly. Colin couldn’t just walk away from all that.