All Around the Town (31 page)

She looked at him, bewildered. "You didn't ask me."

Chapter
101

IT WAS just like it had been in those months before Lee was locked up in the clinic. Opal thought. In rented cars, she and Bic began to follow her again. Some days they'd be parked across the street and watch Lee hurry from the garage to the clinic entrance, then wait however long it took until she came out again. Bic would spend the time staring at the door, so afraid of missing even one glimpse of her. Beads of perspiration would form on his forehead, his hands would grip the wheel when she reemerged.

"Wonder what she's been talking about today?" he'd ask, fear and anger in his voice. "She's alone in the room with that doctor, Opal. Maybe he's being tempted by her."

Weekdays Lee went to the clinic in the morning. Many afternoons she and Sarah would golf together, usually going to one of the local public courses. Afraid that Sarah would notice the car following them, Bic began to phone around to the starters to inquire about a reservation in the name of Kenyon If there was one, he and Opal would occasionally drive to that course and try to run into Sarah and Lee in the coffee shop.

He never lingered at the table, just greeted them casually and kept going, but he missed nothing about Lee. Afterwards, he'd emotionally comment about her appearance. "That golf shirt just clings to her tender body... It was all I could do not to reach over and release the clip that was holding back that golden hair."

Because of the "Church of the Airways" program, they had to be in New York the better part of the weekend. Opal was secretly grateful for that. If they did get a glimpse of Lee and Sarah on Saturday or Sunday, the doctor and the same young man, Gregg Bennett, were always with them. That infuriated Bic.

One mid-August day he called to Opal to join him in Lee's room. The shades were drawn, and he was sitting in the rocker. "I have been praying for guidance and have received my answer," he told her. "Lee always goes to and returns from New York alone. She has a phone in her car. I have been able to get the number of that phone."

Opal cringed as Bic's face contorted and his eyes flashed with that strange compelling light. "Opal," he thundered, "do not think I have not been aware of your jealousy. I forbid you to trouble me with it again. Lee's earthly time is almost over. In the days that are left, you must allow me to fill myself with the sight and sound and scent of that pretty child."

Chapter
102

THOMASINA PERKINS was thrilled to receive a note from Sarah Kenyon asking her to write a letter on Laurie's behalf to the judge who was going to sentence her.

You remember so clearly how terrified and frightened Laurie was, Sarah wrote, and you're the only person who ever actually saw her with her abductors. We need to make the judge understand the trauma Laurie suffered when she was a small child. Be sure to include the name you thought you heard the woman call the man as they rushed Laurie from the diner. Sarah concluded by writing that a known child abuser by that name had been in the Harrisburg area then and, while of course they couldn't prove it, she intended to suggest the possibility that he was the kidnapper.

Thomasina had told the story of seeing Laurie and calling the police so often that it could practically write itself. Until she got to the sticking point.

That day the woman had not called the man Jim. Thomasina knew that now with absolute certainty. She couldn't give that name to the judge. It would be like lying under oath. It troubled her to know that Sarah had wasted time and money tracking down the wrong person.

Thomasina was losing faith in Reverend Hawkins. She'd written to him a couple of times thanking him for the privilege of being on his show and explaining that, while she would never suggest that God had made a mistake, maybe they should have waited and kept listening to Him. It was just that God had given her the name of the counter boy first. Could they try again?

Reverend Hawkins hadn't bothered to answer her. Oh, she was on his mailing list, that was for sure. For every two dollars she donated, she got a letter asking for more.

Her niece had taped Thomasina's appearance on the "Church of the Airways" program, and Thomasina loved to watch it. But as her resentment of Reverend Hawkins grew she noticed more and more things about the taped segment. The way his mouth was so close to her ear when she heard the name. The way he didn't even get Laurie's name straight. He had referred to her at one point as Lee.

Thomasina's conscience was clear when she mailed a passionate letter to the judge, describing Laurie's panic and hysteria in lurid terms but without mentioning the name Jim. She sent a copy of the letter and an explanation to Sarah, pointing out the mistake the Reverend Hawkins himself had made by referring to Laurie as Lee.

Chapter
103

"IT'S GETTING CLOSER," Laurie told Dr. Donnelly matter-of-factly as she kicked off her shoes and settled back on the couch.

"What is, Laurie?"

He expected her to talk about prison, but instead she said, "The knife."

He waited.

It was Kate who spoke to him now. "Doctor, I guess we've both done our best."

"Hey, Kate," he said, "that doesn't sound like you." Was Laurie becoming suicidal? he wondered.

A wry laugh. "Kate sees the handwriting on the wall. Doctor. Got a cigarette?"

"Sure. How's it going, Leona?"

"It's pretty nearly gone. Your golf is getting better."

"Thank you."

"You really like Sarah, don't you?"

"Very much."

"Don't let her be too unhappy, will you?"

"About what?"

Laurie stretched. "I have such a headache," she murmured. "It's as though it isn't just at night anymore. Even yesterday when Sarah and I were on the golf course I could suddenly see the hand that's holding the knife."

"Laurie, the memories are coming closer and closer to the surface. Can't you let them out?"

"I can't let go of the guilt." Was it Laurie or Leona or Kate speaking? For the first time Justin couldn't be sure. "I did such bad things," she said, "disgusting things. Some secret part of me is remembering them."

Justin made a sudden decision. "Come on. We're going to take a walk in the park. Let's sit in the playground for a while and watch the kids."

THE SWINGS and slides, the jungle gym and seesaws were filled with young children. They sat on a park bench near the watchful mothers and nannies. The children were laughing, calling to each other, arguing about whose turn it was to be on the swing. Justin spotted a little girl who looked to be about four. She was happily bouncing a ball. Several times the nanny called to the child, "Don't go so far away, Christy." The child, totally absorbed in keeping the ball bouncing, did not seem to hear. Finally the nanny got up, hurried over and firmly caught the ball. "I said, stay in the playground," she scolded. "If you chased that ball in the road, one of those cars would hit you."

"I forgot." The small face looked forlorn and repentant, then, turning and seeing Laurie and Justin watching her, immediately brightened. She ran to them. "Do you like my beautiful sweater?" she asked.

The nanny came up. "Christy, you mustn't bother people." She smiled apologetically. "Christy thinks everything she puts on is beautiful."

"Well, it is," Laurie said. "It's a perfectly beautiful new sweater."

A few minutes later they started back for the clinic. "Suppose," Justin said, "that little girl, very absorbed in what she was doing, wandered too close to the road and someone grabbed her, put her in a car, disappeared with her and abused her. Do you think that years later she should blame herself?"

Laurie's eyes were welling with tears. "Point taken. Doctor."

"Then forgive yourself as readily as you would forgive that child if something she couldn't help had happened to her today."

They went back into Justin's private office. Laurie stretched out on the couch. "If that little girl had been picked up today and put in a car..." she hesitated.

"Maybe you can imagine what might happen to her," Justin suggested.

"She wanted to go back home. Mommy would be angry that she went down to the road. There was a new neighbor whose son was seventeen years old and a fast driver. Mommy said the little girl must not run out in front anymore. She might get hurt by the car. They loved the little girl so much. They called her their miracle."

"But the people wouldn't take her home?"

"No. They drove and drove. She was crying, and the woman slapped her and said shut up. The man with the fuzzy arms picked her up and put her on his lap." Laurie's hands clenched and unclenched.

Justin watched as she clutched her shoulders. "Why are you doing that?"

"They told the little girl to get out of the car. It's so cold. She has to go to the bathroom, but he wants to take her picture so he makes her stand by the tree."

"The picture you tore up the day you first came to stay at the clinic made you remember that, didn't it."

"Yes. Yes."

"And the rest of the time the little girl stayed with him... the rest of the time you stayed with him..."

"He raped me," Laurie screamed. "I never knew when it would happen, but always after we sang the songs in the rocking chair he took me upstairs. Always then. Always then. He hurt me so much."

Justin rushed to comfort the sobbing girl. "It's okay," he said. "Just tell me this. Was it your fault?"

"He was so big. I tried to fight him. I couldn't make him stop," she shrieked. "I couldn't make him stop."

It was the moment to ask. "Was Opal there?"

"She's his wife."

Laurie gasped and bit her lip. Her eyes narrowed.

"Doctor, I told you that was a forbidden word." The nine-year-old boy would not allow any more memories to escape that day.

Chapter
104

ON AUGUST 17, while Gregg took Laurie to dinner and a play, Sarah and Brendon went to Newark Airport. They arrived at 8:55. "This is approximately the time Karen Grant and Anne Webster got here the night Allan Grant died," Moody told Sarah as they drove into the parking area. "The plane their client was on was more than three hours late, as were a lot of other planes that night. That means that the parking lot would be pretty full. Anne Webster said they had to walk quite a distance to the terminal."

Deliberately he parked his car almost at the end of the facility. "It's a pretty good hike to the United terminal," he observed. "Let's clock it at a normal pace. It should take five minutes at least."

Sarah nodded. She had told herself not to grasp at straws, not to be like so many family members of defendants she had prosecuted. Denial. Their husband or daughter or sister or brother was incapable of committing a crime, they'd argue. Even in the face of overwhelming evidence they'd be convinced there'd been some kind of horrible mistake.

But when she'd talked to Justin, he had been cautiously encouraging about Moody's theory that Karen Grant had both the opportunity and the motive to kill her husband. He said that he was beginning to accept the possibility that Laurie had no more than the four alter personalities they had met, all of whom consistently told him that Laurie was innocent.

As Sarah walked with Moody into the air-conditioned terminal, she welcomed the coolness and the relief from the muggy mid-August evening. The check-in lines reminded her of the wonderful trip to Italy she and Laurie had taken with their parents a little more than a year ago. Now it seemed as if that had been several lifetimes ago, she thought sadly.

"Remember, it was only after Karen Grant and Mrs. Webster got here that they learned the computer system had gone down and the plane was rescheduled for twelve-thirty arrival." Moody paused as he looked up at the listings of arrivals and departures. "What's your reaction if you're Karen Grant and edgy about your relationship with your husband? Maybe more than edgy if when you phoned him he'd told you he wanted a divorce?"

An image of Karen Grant came to Sarah's mind. In all these months she'd thought of Karen Grant as a grieving widow. In court at Laurie's plea bargain she'd been wearing black. It was odd, Sarah thought now as she remembered the scene. Maybe she was carrying it a bit far---not many people in their early thirties wear black as a sign of mourning anymore.

Sarah remarked on this fact to Brendon as they walked toward the VIP lounge. He nodded. "The widow Grant is always playing a part, and it shows. We know she and Anne Webster went up to the lounge and had a drink. The movie Spartacus started at nine o'clock that night on The Movie Channel. The receptionist who was here that night is on duty now," he told Sarah. "We'll talk to her."

The receptionist did not remember the night of January 28, but she did know and like Anne Webster. "I've been on the job ten years," she explained, "and I've never known a better travel agent. Only problem with Anne Webster is that whenever she kills time here, she takes over the television. She always puts on one of the movie stations and gets mighty stubborn if someone else wants to watch the news or something."

"Real problem," Brendon said sympathetically.

The receptionist laughed. "Oh, not really. I always tell the people who want to watch something different to just wait five minutes. Anne Webster can conk out faster than anyone I know. And once she's asleep, we change the channel."