Читать книгу Tall, Dark And Deadly - Suzanne Brockmann - Страница 12

“SIT ON THE COUCH—or in the chair,” Dr. Lana Quinn directed Sydney. “Wherever you think you’ll be more comfortable.”

“I appreciate your finding the time to do this on such short notice,” Lucky said.

“You got lucky,” Lana told him with a smile. “Wes called right after my regular one o’clock cancelled. I was a little surprised actually—it’s been a while since I’ve heard from him.”

Lucky didn’t know the pretty young psychologist very well. She was married to a SEAL named Wizard with whom he’d never worked. But Wizard had been in the same BUD/S class with Bobby and Wes, and the three men had remained close. And when Lucky had stopped Wes in the hall to inquire jokingly if he knew a hypnotist, Wes had surprised him by saying, yes, as a matter of fact, he did.

“How is Wes?” Lana asked.

Lucky was no shrink himself, but the question was just a little too casual.

She must have realized the way her words had sounded and hastened to explain. “He was in such a rush when he called, I didn’t even have time to ask. We used to talk on the phone all the time back when my husband was in Team Six, you know, when he was gone more often than not—I think it was because Wes and I both missed Quinn. And after he transferred back to California, back to Team Ten, Wes kind of dropped out of touch.”

“Wes is doing good—just made chief,” Lucky told her.

“That’s great,” Lana enthused—again just a little too enthusiastically. “Congratulate him for me, will you?”

Lucky was not an expert by any means, but he didn’t have to be an expert to know there was more to that story than Lana was telling. Not that he believed for one minute that Wes would’ve had an affair with the wife of one of his best friends. No, Wes Skelly was a caveman in a lot of ways, but his code of honor was among the most solid Lucky had ever known.

It did make perfect sense, though, for Wes to have done something truly stupid, like fall in love with his good friend’s wife. And if that had happened, Wes would have dropped out of Lana’s life like a stone. And Lucky suspected she knew that, psychologist that she was.

God, life was complicated. And it was complicated enough without throwing marriage and its restrictions into the picture. He was never getting married, thank you very much.

It was a rare day that went by without Lucky reminding himself of that—in fact, it was his mantra. Never getting married. Never getting married.

Yet lately—particularly as he watched Frisco with his wife, Mia, and Blue with Lucy, and even the captain, Joe Cat, who’d been married to his wife, Veronica, longer than any of the other guys in Alpha Squad, Lucky had felt…

Envy.

God, he hated to admit it, but he was a little jealous. When Frisco draped his arm around Mia’s shoulder, or when she came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders after a long day. When Lucy stopped in at the crowded, busy Alpha Squad office and Blue would look across the room and smile, and she’d smile back. Or Joe Cat. Calling Veronica every chance he got, from a pay phone in downtown Paris, from the Australian outback after a training op. He’d lower his voice, but Lucky had overheard far more than once. Hey babe, ya miss me? God, I miss you….

Lucky had come embarrassingly close to getting a lump in his throat more than once.

Despite his rather desperate-sounding mantra, Joe and Blue and Frisco and all of the other married SEALs made the perils of commitment look too damn good.

As Lucky watched, across the room Sydney perched on the very edge of the couch, arms folded tightly across her chest as she looked around Lana’s homey office. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be hypnotized. Her body language couldn’t be any more clear.

He settled into the chair across from her. “Thanks for agreeing to this.”

He could see her trepidation in the tightness of her mouth as she shook her head. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it will.”

“Don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t.”

She was afraid of failing. Lucky could understand that. Failure was something he feared as well.

“Why don’t you take off your jacket,” Lana suggested to Sydney. “Get loose—unbutton your shirt a little, roll up your sleeves. I want you to try to get as comfortable as possible. Kick off your boots, try to relax.”

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Sydney said again, this time to Lana, as she slipped her arms out of her jacket.

“Don’t worry about that,” Lana told her, sitting down in the chair closest to Sydney. “Before we go any further, I want to tell you that my methods are somewhat unconventional. But I have had some degree of success working with victims of crimes, helping them clarify the order and details of certain traumatic or frightening events, so bear with me. And again, there’s no guarantee that this will work, but we’ve got a better shot at it if you try to be open-minded.”

Syd nodded tightly. “I’m trying.”

She was. Lucky had to give her that. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t have to be here, yet here she was.

“Let’s start with you telling me what you felt when you encountered the man on the stairs,” Lana said. “Did you see him coming, or were you startled by him?”

“I heard the clatter of his footsteps,” Syd told her as she unfastened first one, then two, then three buttons on her shirt.

Lucky looked away, aware that he was watching her, aware that he didn’t want her to stop at three, remembering with a sudden alarming clarity the way she had felt when he’d held her in his arms. She’d tasted so sweet and hot and…

Lucky was dressed in his summer uniform, and he resisted the urge to loosen his own collar. He was overheating far too often these days. He should have called Heather after following Syd home last night. He should have called and groveled. Chances are she would have let him in.

But he’d gone home instead. He’d swum about four hundred laps in his pool, trying to curb his restlessness, blaming it on the fact that Alpha Squad was out there, in the real world, while he’d been left behind.

“He was moving fast,” Syd continued. “He clearly didn’t see me, and I couldn’t get out of his way.”

“Were you frightened?” Lana asked.

Syd thought about that, chewing for a moment on her lower lip. “More like alarmed,” she said. “He was big. But I wasn’t afraid of him because I thought he was dangerous. It was more like the flash of fear you get when a car swerves into your lane and there’s nowhere to go to avoid hitting it.”

“Picture the moment that you first heard him coming,” Lana suggested, “and try to flip it into slow motion. You hear him, then you see him. What are you thinking? Right at that second when you first spot him coming down the stairs?”

Syd looked up from untying the laces of her boots. “Kevin Manse,” she said.

She was still leaning over, and Lucky got a sudden brief look down the open front of her shirt. She was wearing a black bra, and he got a very clear look at black lace against smooth pale skin. As she moved to untie her other boot, Lucky tried to look away. Tried and failed. He found himself watching her, hoping for another enticing glimpse of her small but perfectly, delicately, deliciously shaped, lace-covered breasts.

Sydney Jameson was enormously attractive, he realized with a jolt as he examined her face. Sure he’d always preferred women with a long mane of hair, but hers was darkly sleek and especially lustrous, and the short cut suited the shape of her face. Her eyes were the color of black coffee, with lashes that didn’t need any makeup to look thick and dark.

She wasn’t traditionally pretty, but whenever she stopped scowling and smiled, she was breathtaking.

And as far as her clothes…

Lucky had never particularly liked the Annie Hall look before, but with a flash of awareness, he suddenly completely understood its appeal. Buried beneath Syd’s baggy, mannish clothing was a body as elegantly, gracefully feminine as the soft curves of her face. And the glimpse he’d had was sexy as hell—sexy in a way he’d never imagined possible, considering that the women he usually found attractive were far more generously endowed.

She straightened up, kicking off her boots. She wasn’t wearing socks, and her feet were elegantly shaped with very high arches. God, what was wrong with him that the sight of a woman’s bare foot was enough to push him over the edge into complete arousal?

Lucky shifted in his seat, crossing his legs, praying Lana wouldn’t ask him to fetch anything from her desk all the way across the room.

“Who’s Kevin Manse?” the psychologist asked Sydney.

Syd sat back, crossing her legs tailor-style, tucking her sexy feet beneath her on the couch. “He was a football player I, um…” she flashed a look in Lucky’s direction and actually blushed “…knew in college. I guess the sheer size of this guy reminded me of Kevin.”

Wasn’t that interesting? And completely unexpected. Syd Jameson certainly didn’t seem the type to have dated a football player in college. “Boyfriend?” Lucky asked.

“Um,” Syd said. “Not exactly.”

Ah. Maybe she’d liked the football player, and he hadn’t even noticed her. Maybe, like Lucky, Kevin had been too busy trying to catch the eyes of the more bodacious cheerleaders.

Lana scribbled a comment on her notepad. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s give this a shot, shall we?”

Syd laughed nervously. “So how do you do this? All I can think of is Elmer Fudd trying to hypnotize Bugs Bunny with his pocket watch on a chain. You know, ‘You ah getting vewwy sweepy.’”

Laughing, Lana crossed the room and turned off the light. “Actually, I use a mirror ball, a flashlight and voiced suggestions. Lieutenant, I have to recommend that you step out into the waiting room for a few minutes. I’ve found that SEALs are highly susceptible to this form of light-induced hypnotism. My theory is that it has to do with the way you’ve trained yourself to take combat naps.” She sat down again across from Syd. “They fall, quickly, into deep REM sleep for short periods of time,” she explained before looking back at Lucky. “There may be a form of self-hypnosis involved when you do that.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not sure though. Quinn won’t let me experiment on him. You can try staying in here, but…”

“I’ll leave the room—temporarily,” Lucky said.

“Good idea. I’m sure Dr. Quinn doesn’t want both of us waddling around quacking like ducks,” Syd said.

Hot damn, she’d made a joke. Lucky laughed, and Syd actually smiled back at him. But her smile was far too small and it faded far too quickly.

“Seriously,” she added. “If I do something to really embarrass myself, don’t rub it in, all right?”

“I won’t,” he told her. “As long as you promise to return the same favor some day.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Step outside, Lieutenant.”

“You’ll wait to ask her any questions until I come back in?”

Lana Quinn nodded. “I will.”

“Quack, quack,” Syd said.

Lucky closed the door behind him.

As he paced, he punched a number into his cell phone. Frisco picked up the phone on his office desk after only half a ring.

“Francisco.”

“Answering your own phone,” Lucky said. “Very impressive.”

“Understaffed,” Frisco said shortly. “S’up?”

“I’m wondering if you’ve heard anything about yesterday’s diving accident.”

Frisco said some choice words, none of them polite. “God, what a stupid-fest. The SEAL candidate—former SEAL candidate—who nearly had nitrogen bubbles turn his brain into Swiss cheese, apparently snuck out of the barracks the night before the accident. It was his birthday, and some well-meaning but equally idiotic friends flew him to Vegas to visit his girlfriend. The flight back was delayed, and he didn’t land in San Diego until oh-three-hundred. The stupid bastard made it back into the barracks without being found out, but he was still completely skunked when the training op started at oh-four-thirty.”

Lucky cringed. It was dangerous to dive any less than twenty-four hours after flying. And if this guy was diving drunk, to boot…

“If he’d spoken up then, he would’ve been forced out of BUD/S, but this way they’re throwing the book at him,” Frisco continued. “He’s facing a dishonorable discharge at the very least.”

The fool was lucky he was alive, but indeed, that was where his luck ended. “How many of the candidates were covering for him?” Lucky asked. An incident like this could well eliminate half of an entire class.

“Only five of ‘em,” Frisco said. “All officers. All gone as of 0600 this morning.”

Lucky shook his head. One guy couldn’t handle having a birthday without getting some from his girlfriend, and six promising careers were flushed.

The door opened, and Lana Quinn poked her head out of her office. “We’re ready for you, Lieutenant.”

“Whoops,” Lucky said to Frisco. “I’ve got to go. It’s hypno-time. Later, man.”

He hung up on his commanding officer and snapped his phone shut, slipping it into his pocket.

“Move slowly,” Lana told him. “She’s pretty securely under, but no quick motions or sudden noises, please.”

The blinds were down in the office and, with the overhead lights off, Lucky had to blink for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness.

He moved carefully into the room, standing off to the side, as Lana sat down near Syd.

She was stretched out on the couch, her eyes closed, as if she were asleep. She looked deceptively peaceful and possibly even angelic. Lucky, however, knew better.

“Sydney, I want to go back, just a short amount of time, to the night you were coming home from the movies. Do you remember that night?”

As Lucky sat down, Syd was silent.

“Do you remember that night?” Lana persisted. “You were nearly knocked over by the man coming down the stairs.”

“Kevin Manse,” Syd said. Her eyes were still tightly shut, but her voice was strong and clear.

“That’s right,” Lana said. “He reminded you of Kevin Manse. Can you see him, Syd?”

Sydney nodded. “He nearly knocks me over on the stairs. He’s angry. And drunk. I know he’s drunk. I’m drunk, too. It’s my first frat-house party.”

“What the—”

Lana silenced Lucky with one swift motion. “How old are you, Sydney?”

“I’m eighteen,” she told them, her husky voice breathless and young-sounding. “He apologizes—oh, God, he’s so cute, and we start talking. He’s an honors student as well as the star of the football team and I can’t believe he’s talking to me.”

“Now it’s more than ten years later,” Lana interrupted gently, “and the man on the stairs only reminds you of Kevin.”

“I’m so dizzy,” Syd continued, as if she hadn’t heard Lana. “And the stairs are so crowded. Kevin tells me his room’s upstairs. I can lie down for a while on his bed. And he kisses me and…” She sighed and smiled. “And I know he doesn’t mean alone.”

“Oh, God,” Lucky said. He didn’t want to hear this.

“Sydney,” Lana said firmly. “I need you to come back to the present day now.”

“I pretend not to be nervous when he locks the door behind us,” Syd continued. “His books are out on his desk. Calculus and physics. And he kisses me again and…”

She made a soft noise of pleasure, and Lucky rocketed out of his seat. “Why won’t she listen to you?”

Lana shrugged. “Could be any number of reasons. She’s clearly strong-willed. And this could well have been a pivotal moment in her life. Whatever her reasons, she doesn’t want to leave it right now.”

Syd moved slightly on the couch, her head back, her lips slightly parted as she made another of those intense little sounds. Dear God.

“Why don’t we see if we can get to the end of this episode,” Lana suggested. “Maybe she’ll be more receptive to moving into the more recent past if we let her take her time.”

“What,” Lucky said, “we’re just going to sit here while she relives having sex with this guy?”

“I’ve never done this before,” Syd whispered. “Not really, and—Oh!”

Lucky couldn’t look at her, couldn’t not look at her. She was breathing hard, with a slight sheen of perspiration on her face. “Okay,” he said, unable to stand this another second. “Okay, Syd. You do the deed with Mr. Wonderful. It’s over. Let’s move on.”

“He’s so sweet,” Syd sighed. “He says he’s afraid people will talk if I stay there all night, so he asks a friend to drive me back to my dorm. He says he’ll call me, and he kisses me good night and I’m…I’m so amazed at how good that felt, at how much I love him—I can’t wait to do it again.”

Okay. So now he knew that not only was Sydney hot, she was hot-blooded as well.

“Sydney,” Lana’s voice left no room for argument. “Now it’s just a little less than a week ago. You’re on the stairs, in your apartment building. You’re coming home from the movies—”

“God.” Sydney laughed aloud. “Did that movie suck. I can’t believe I spent all that money on it. The highlight was that pop singer who used to be a model who now thinks he’s an actor. And I’m not talking about his acting. I’m talking about the scene that featured his bare butt. It alone was truly worthy of the big screen. And,” she laughed again, a rich, sexy sound, “if you want to know the truth, these days the movies is the closest I seem to be able to get to a naked man.”

Lucky knew one easy way to change that, fast. But he kept his mouth shut and let Lana do her shrink thing.

“You’re climbing the stairs to your apartment,” she told Syd. “It’s late, and you’re heading home and you hear a noise.”

“Footsteps,” Syd responded. “Someone’s coming down the stairs. Kevin Manse—no, he just looks for half a second like Kevin Manse, but he’s not.”

“Can you mentally push a pause button,” Lana asked, “and hold him in a freeze-frame?”

Syd nodded. “He’s not Kevin Manse.”

“Can you describe his face? Is he wearing a mask? Panty hose over his head?”

“No, but he’s in shadow,” Syd told them. “The light’s behind him. He’s got a short crew cut, I can see the hair on his head sticking straight up, lit the way he is. But his face is dark. I can’t really see him, but I know he’s not Kevin. He moves differently. He’s more muscle-bound—you know, top-heavy from lifting weights. Kevin was just big all over.”

Lucky could well imagine. God, this was stupid. He was jealous of this Kevin Manse guy.

“Let him move toward you,” Lana suggested, “but in slow motion, if you can. Does the light ever hit his face?”

Syd was frowning now, her eyes still closed, concentrating intensely. “No,” she finally said. “He swerves around me, hits me with his shoulder. Sorry, bud. He turns his face toward me and I can see that he’s white. His hair looks golden, but maybe it’s just brown, just the reflected light.”

“Are you sure he’s not wearing a mask?” Lana asked.

“No. He’s still moving down the stairs, but he’s turning his head to look at me, and I turn away.”

“You turn away,” Lana repeated. “Why?”

Syd laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I’m embarrassed,” she admitted. “He thought I was a man. It’s happened to me before, and it’s worse when they realize they’ve made a mistake. I hate the apologies. That’s when it’s humiliating.”

“So why do you dress that way?” Lucky had to ask.

Lana shot him an appalled “what are you doing?” look. He didn’t give a damn. He wanted to know.

“It’s safe,” Syd told him.

“Safe.”

“Lieutenant,” Lana said sternly.

“Back to the guy on the stairs,” Lucky said. “What’s he wearing?”

“Jeans,” Syd said without hesitating. “And a plain dark sweatshirt.”

“Tattoos?” Lucky asked.

“His sleeves are down.”

“On his feet?”

She was silent for several long seconds. “I don’t know.”

“You turn away,” Lana said. “But do you look back at him as he goes down the stairs?”

“No. I hear him, though. He slams the front door on his way out. I’m glad—it sometimes doesn’t latch and then anyone can get in.”

“Do you hear anything else?” Lucky asked. “Stop and listen carefully.”

Syd was silent. “A car starts. And then pulls away. A fan belt must be loose or old or something because it squeals a little. I’m glad when it’s gone. It’s an annoying sound—it’s not an expensive part, and it doesn’t take much to learn how to—”

“When you’re home, do you park in a garage,” Lucky interrupted, “or on the street?”

“Street,” she told him.

“When you pulled up,” he asked, “after the movie, were there any cars near your apartment building that you didn’t recognize?”

Syd chewed on her lip, frowning slightly. “I don’t remember.”

Lucky looked at Lana. “Can you take her back there?”

“I can try, but…”

“Gina’s door is open,” Syd said.

“Syd, let’s try to backtrack a few minutes,” Lana said. “Let’s go back to your car, after you’ve left the movie theater. You’re driving home.”

“Why is her door open?” Syd asked, and Lana glanced at Lucky, shaking her head.

“Her boyfriend must’ve left it open,” Syd continued. “Figures a guy can’t replace a fan belt also can’t manage to shut a door and…” She sat up suddenly, her eyes wide open. She was looking straight at Lucky, but through him, or in front of him, not at him. She didn’t see him. Instead, she saw something else, something he couldn’t see. “Oh, my God“

Her hair was damp with perspiration, and she reached up with a shaking hand to push it away from her eyes.

Lana leaned forward. “Sydney, let’s go back—”

“Oh, my God, Gina! She’s in the corner of the living room, and her face is bleeding! Her eye’s swollen shut and…oh, God, oh, God. She wasn’t just beaten. Her clothes are torn and…” Her voice changed, calmer, more controlled. “Yes, I need the police to come here right away.” She recited the address as if she were talking on the telephone. “We’ll need an ambulance, too. And a policewoman, please. My neighbor’s been…raped.” Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath. “Gina, here’s your robe. I think it would be okay if you put it around yourself. Let me help you, hon…”

“Sydney,” Lana said gently. “I’m going to bring you back now. It’s time to go.”

“Go?” Syd’s voice cracked. “I can’t leave Gina. How could you even think that I could just leave Gina? God, it’s bad enough I have to pretend everything’s going to be okay. Look at her! Look at her!” She started to cry; deep, racking sobs that shook her entire body, a fountain of emotion brimming over and spilling down her cheeks. “What kind of monster could have done this to this girl? Look in her eyes—all of her hopes, her dreams, her life, they’re gone! And you know with that mother of hers, she’s going to live the rest of her life hiding from the world, too afraid ever to come back out again. And why? Because she left the window in the kitchen unlocked. She wasn’t careful, because nobody had bothered to warn any of us that this son of a bitch was out there! They knew, the police knew, but nobody said a single word!”

Lucky couldn’t stop himself. He sat next to Sydney, and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Syd, I’m sorry,” he said.

But she pushed him away, curling into herself, turning into a small ball in the corner of the couch, completely inconsolable.

Lucky looked at Lana helplessly.

“Syd,” she said loudly. “I’m going to clap my hands twice, and you’re going to fall asleep. You’ll wake up in one minute, feeling completely refreshed. You won’t remember any of this.”

Lana clapped her hands, and just like that, Syd’s body relaxed. The room was suddenly very silent.

Lucky sat back, resting his head against the back of the couch. He drew in a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “I had no idea,” he said. Syd was always so strong, so in control…. He remembered that message he’d found on his answering machine last night when he’d gotten home. The way she hadn’t quite managed to hide the fear in her voice when she’d called him for help, thinking she was being followed by a stranger. You scared me to death, she’d told him, but he hadn’t really believed it until he’d heard that phone message.

What else was she hiding?

“She clearly considers her stake in this to be personal,” Lana said quietly. She stood up. “I think it would be better if you were in the waiting room when she wakes up.”