A
ndie watched David Sadler as he roamed her office, touching her things, moving them slightly, making them his own. She breathed deeply through her nose, working to calm herself. Nick had scared her. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said.
If he’s a killer, you’re keeping him from justice. And you’re putting your own life in danger. Do you want to die, Andie?
Swallowing hard, she returned her attention to David. Had it been him in her house the other night, touching her things the same way he was now, forcing himself on her? Had he gone through her drawers and closets? Had he studied her family photographs and gone into her desk and read her journal?
What if David was a killer?
What if he was Mr. X?
Andie struggled to quiet her agitated breathing, to slow her runaway heart. His age was right. His build and coloring. But why would he want to stir up interest in an unsolved murder case, a case in which he would be the prime suspect? That didn’t make sense.
Besides, there were probably hundreds of men in Thistledown who fit David’s general description. And how many men were there in this town, she wondered, who had experimented with light bondage during sex, who had a need to control and dominate women? A couple dozen? Less? More? Edward Pierpont had even fit that description, only he had controlled and dominated through fear, intimidation and physical abuse.
She was letting Nick get to her. Nick would do anything in hopes of solving the Robertson case; he had all but told her so that night over dinner. Her ethical responsibility to her patients and her profession didn’t mean dip to him, not compared to catching a killer.
It’d be no skin off his nose if she turned David over to him and he wasn’t anything more than a guy with a problem that he had sought help for. So what if he was wrong and David Sadler was publicly shamed and her integrity lost?
What’s that oath worth, Andie? Is it worth dying for?
“Dr. Bennett?”
She jumped, startled. David was standing not three feet from her, his bright, light eyes unblinkingly upon her.
“I’m sorry, David. What did you say?”
“You look about ready to make a run for it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re perched on the edge of your chair.” He motioned with his head.
She looked down at herself.
She was.
“So I am.” She scooted back in her seat, struggling to compose herself. She smiled, though it felt as if her cheeks might crack with the effort. “Sorry. I’m distracted today. Go on with what you were saying.”
“I was saying, things aren’t always what they seem.”
“What do you mean?”
“People, their motivations. Everybody has an agenda. It’s just a matter of discovering what it is.”
“You don’t think you might be projecting onto others your own inability to be fully honest in your relationships?”
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not at all. But I see by your expression that you disagree.”
“I do disagree. I think it all comes down to trust, David. Being honest and expecting honesty in return. That’s the essential core of all interpersonal relationships. Without honesty, how could anybody ever really know anybody else?”
“Exactly.”
“So, you’re saying that nobody really knows you? That they never have?” He simply smiled. The cat with his mouse. “What’s your secret agenda, David? If everyone else has one, you must, too.”
He leaned toward her. “Do you trust me, Dr. Bennett?”
About as far as she could toss him.
“I’d like to, David. I really would.”
He laughed. “You’re so good at that evasive bullshit.
‘I’d really like to,’”
he mocked. “Which means, of course, that you don’t.”
“Should I?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Suddenly she was tired of his evasions, his games of cat and mouse; she was tired of Nick’s warnings and her own fear, of wondering if David was the one harassing her.
Suddenly, she was pissed off.
She met his eyes evenly. “If you have a secret agenda, David, I want to know what it is. You owe me that.”
“I owe you that?” He arched his eyebrows. “You’re very naive, aren’t you, Doctor? A real Goody Two–shoes.”
She stood, all but shaking with fury. She felt played with and vulnerable and like a sitting duck. And she didn’t like it. “If we’re going to continue working together, I have to have complete honesty from you. Are you what you seem to be, David? Or do you have a hidden agenda? Another reason for these sessions with me?”
One second became several; the silence crackled between them. Then he lifted his gaze to hers. In that moment he looked more like a lost little boy than a man she feared capable of murder. “No secret agenda, Dr. Bennett. I want your help. That’s all.”
J
ulie was up to her old tricks again.
Raven hung up the phone, quaking with fury, with betrayal. All the signs were there, they had been for weeks. Her friend was acting guilty and distracted, giggling inappropriately or refusing to look Raven in the eyes. She had been evasive about how she was spending her time, and though she was never available, she wouldn’t say where she had been or who she had been with.
Raven narrowed her eyes. One thing was for certain, however, Julie hadn’t been with her. She hadn’t been with Andie.
Did she think Raven was stupid?
Raven fumbled in her desk drawer for her cigarettes, lit one and dragged deeply on it. Why did she even bother with Julie? The girl was as loyal as a bitch dog in heat. Didn’t she remember how her biological family had washed their hands of her? Didn’t she remember how Raven and Andie had been her friends when no one else would give her the time of day? Or how, over the past ten years, she had turned to Raven again and again, for support and love, for money, a place to live, everything.
Whatever she had asked for, whatever she had needed, Raven had always given it to her. And each time Julie had promised that she had changed, that she had come home to stay, and Raven had believed her.
All Raven asked of her was loyalty. Such a simple thing. One that should come naturally. Raven brought the cigarette to her mouth again. Why did she love the girl so much?
Because she was family. Because you didn’t give up on family until you were absolutely forced to.
Raven rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the knots of tension there. What if Julie wasn’t lying? Andie had spoken with her and had been convinced that Julie hadn’t fallen off the wagon. Raven took another drag on the cigarette and crushed it in the crystal ashtray on her desk. She needed proof. To set her own mind at ease or to confront Julie with. And if necessary, to use to elicit Andie’s help.
Maybe, if they both confronted her, if they both laid it, their friendships, on the line, she would get her act together and realize what was important.
After all, they had never actually delivered Julie an ultimatum before. Perhaps it was time they did, Raven thought.
Raven glanced at her watch. Julie had used having to work as an excuse for their not being able to get together tonight. That would be easy enough to check.
Raven picked up the phone, dialed the country club, then had the operator connect her with the bar. The bartender on duty answered; Raven asked for Julie. When he said she wasn’t there, Raven asked if she would be in later. She wouldn’t be, he replied. She had the night off.
Lying little whore. Disloyal bitch.
Raven slammed down the phone and got to her feet, shoving away from the desk so forcefully that her chair, a Louis XIV reproduction, crashed to the floor. She was going to find out exactly what Julie was up to and with whom. Then she would deal with her.
Laura rushed out of the back room, expression alarmed. When she saw the chair, she made a sound of dismay. “Raven, are you all—”
“I’m leaving,” Raven snapped, snatching up her briefcase. “There’s something I have to take care of. Lock up.”
Raven waited until dusk to drive over to Julie’s, so her friend would be less likely to spot her BMW. If Julie did happen to see her, she would say she had stopped by on her way to dinner, just to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind about going out.
Raven saw she was in luck as she pulled into the building’s parking area—Julie’s car was there. She chose a spot at the back of the lot, one where she wouldn’t be noticed but one that afforded her a clear view of both Julie’s car and the building’s entrance.
Then she waited. As she did, her mind wandered. To the times she, Andie and Julie had spent together, of the way they had laughed together and supported one another. They had been like one person instead of three. More than friends, better than sisters.
Remembering hurt. When had her family gotten so far away from her? When had everything changed between them? Once upon a time they had been so close. Once upon a time they had shared everything.
The summer of ’83. Mr. X’s summer.
She closed her eyes, thinking of that time, the similarities between then and now. Andie had been uncommunicative and distracted then, too. Julie had been lost in a world of her own making, and she, Raven, had been unhappy and worried, scrambling for a way to bring them all back together.
She was always the one, it seemed, who was scrambling to keep their family together.
She reopened her eyes. And there he was, driving by in his bright red Jaguar. David Sadler. Their Mr. X.
She blinked, thinking at first that her memories had materialized him. They hadn’t. He pulled his car up at the building’s entrance, swung out and headed inside.
What was he doing here? she wondered, glancing around. This wasn’t what one would call classy digs. Not his typical stomping ground. Not the kind of place he would have friends.
Julie. He had come to get Julie.
The pulse began to thrum in her head. The inside of her mouth turned to dust. She called her thoughts ridiculous. How would David know Julie? How would he have met her? This was some sort of weird coincidence.
But it wasn’t.
After only a couple of minutes, David emerged from the building. With Julie. She was laughing and gazing up at him, obviously smitten. Raven curved her fingers tightly around the steering wheel, fighting to catch her breath.
David Sadler was Julie’s mystery man.
Feeling light-headed and sick to her stomach, she leaned her head against the rest. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose.
David Sadler was screwing Julie.
He was doing business with her, Raven.
She opened her eyes. What was he doing with Andie? Because he
was
involved with her, Raven was certain of it. Most likely as a patient.
The truth of that had her sitting bolt upright. David Sadler was involved with all three of them.
How could she not have seen it before? How could she not have at least
suspected
that he had tried to contact her friends, the other two girls who had been involved with him and Mrs. X?
She brought her fists to her forehead.
Dummy. Stupid. Stupid.
Of course he had contacted them. He had to be the one behind the clipping they had all received; he was probably the one behind Andie’s obscene calls and was no doubt the one who had left the music playing in her house.
But why? she wondered. What did he hope to accomplish with his little campaign of terror?
She dropped her hands, beginning to sweat. Dear God, what did he know about the three of them? What did he know about her and the part she had played in the events of fifteen years ago? Did he suspect that she had been in that house with him and Leah Robertson? That she had seen
everything
that had happened? Many times she had thought he was aware of her presence. He had looked her way, looked toward the closet door and smiled.
Raven worked to get hold of her runaway thoughts. He didn’t know, she told herself. He couldn’t. He was playing with them. The way he had played with Leah Robertson. He was getting pleasure from their fear, from thinking he was in control, from his anonymity.
The son of a bitch. The sick bastard.
Julie. Mrs. X.
Raven brought a hand to her mouth.
Jesus.
If Julie was having an affair with David Sadler, Raven would bet they were into the same kinky game that Mr. and Mrs. X had been into.
Hands shaking, this time with fury, Raven started her car. Mr. X had come back into all of their lives and like before, he had begun tearing them apart. He was to blame for Andie’s distance and Julie’s evasions. Just like the summer of ’83. And just like then, Raven was being forced to scramble around, to find a way to make everything right again.
Andie and Julie were hers. Her friends, her family.
Nobody messed with what was hers.
“R
aven,” Andie said, surprised, swinging her front door open. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t think I had to call first.”
Andie’s smile faded at her friend’s words and tone. “I didn’t mean that. Of course you don’t. It’s a work night, that’s all.” She swung the door wider and stepped aside so the other woman could enter. “What’s up?”
“I thought we could go to dinner.”
“Dinner?” Andie repeated, looking down at herself. When she’d gotten home from the office thirty minutes ago, she had thrown on some baggy shorts and an old T-shirt. “Now? Tonight?”
“Why not? You haven’t eaten, have you?”
“No, but…” But she’d had a hectic day, one filled with numerous crises. Tomorrow promised more of the same. The last thing she felt like was going out. “I just sat down with a sandwich.”
“Screw that. Let’s go to MacGuire’s. I’m dying for one of their burgers.”
Andie frowned. Raven was behaving strangely. Almost manic. Usually quite self-contained, she was gesturing and fidgeting, her gaze darting from one point to the next as she spoke. She even looked strange—her cheeks were flushed, her eyes unnaturally bright.
“Is something wrong?” Andie asked.
“What could be wrong?”
“You tell me.”
Raven laughed, crossed to the living room and plopped down on the couch. She folded her arms behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. “You’re doing that shrink thing again. Go change, I’m hungry.”
Andie let out an exasperated breath. “The things I do for my friends. But I warn you, it has to be a quick dinner, I’m meeting with Martha and her lawyer first thing in the morning.”
Twenty minutes later they were sitting in a booth at MacGuire’s, food ordered, drinks on the table in front of them. An Irish pub–style restaurant that served a variety of hearty fare, including the best burgers in town, it was crowded even now, after eight-thirty on a weeknight.
“So, what’s this all about, Rave? Not food, I’ll bet.”
Her friend looked her in the eyes. “I’ve missed you, Andie.”
“Missed me?” She smiled. “But I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Haven’t you?” Raven fumbled in her purse for her pack of cigarettes, found them and glanced at Andie in question. “You mind?”
She said that she didn’t, and Raven lit one and dragged deeply on it. Raven tipped her head back and blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling, then met Andie’s gaze once more. “Think about it. When’s the last time we had dinner together?”
Andie thought back, and was surprised to realize it had been over two weeks. She smiled ruefully. “I’ve been busier than I thought.”
“Just like Julie.”
At the mention of their mutual friend, Andie slid her gaze guiltily away. She had hated lying to Raven about Julie; she felt like a heel. She and Raven had always been, with only a few exceptions, completely honest with one another.
“She’s seeing someone.”
Andie snapped her gaze back to her friend’s. “How do you know?”
“I followed her. Tonight.”
Andie couldn’t believe what Raven was telling her. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” She took another long drag on the cigarette, then stamped it out and immediately reached for another. “I knew she was lying to me, so I got proof.” She blew out a puff of smoke. “The little bitch.”
“Raven!”
“Here you go.” The waitress arrived with their food. She set it in front of them, asked them if they needed anything else, then walked off.
Raven laid her napkin in her lap. “What do you expect me to call her? She lied to me, looked me in the eyes and lied her ass off.”
“She didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Please.” Raven picked at a French fry. “I mean, she lied to you, too. Doesn’t that make you feel like shit? Doesn’t it make you mad?”
Andie took a deep breath. She had to tell her friend the truth. It would eventually come out, and when it did, it would be that much uglier. “Julie didn’t lie to me, Raven. She confessed she was involved with someone.” At her friend’s stunned expression, Andie leaned toward her. “I know, I’m sorry. I hate that I kept the truth from you. Please try to understand. She begged me not to tell you.
Begged,
Raven. She was terrified of your finding out.”
Raven didn’t speak. She pushed her plate away and turned her gaze to the window.
A lump formed in Andie’s throat. “She has a sickness, Raven. An addiction. It has control of her, not the other way around.” Andie let out a long breath. “She loves you so much. She really does.”
Raven looked at her then, her cheeks bright with color. “What about you, Andie? Do you love me, too? Or do you only love Nick Raphael now?”
Andie’s mouth dropped, and she sat back in the booth, stunned. Where in the world had that come from? Her friend sounded like a jealous lover.
“Is that what’s going on, Andie? Are you dumping me? Is that why I never see you anymore?”
“No!” Andie struggled to hold on to her dismay. “First of all, I haven’t even
seen
Nick Raphael since the night we had dinner, and I’m most certainly
not
in love with him. Second, you’re my best friend. Even if I were in love with Nick Raphael, I wouldn’t ‘dump’ you. With everything we’ve been through and been to each other? My God, don’t you know me any better than that?”
Raven’s eyes filled with tears. “What do you expect me to think? I’ve been feeling so left out of your life. We hardly speak on the phone, we almost never see each other.” She smoothed and resmoothed her napkin. “How many messages have I left you? How many messages that you haven’t returned?”
Andie swallowed hard, upset at the way she had hurt Raven’s feelings but disconcerted nonetheless by her friend’s anger and combativeness. Her possessiveness. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ve been so involved with the Pierpont trial and this whole…thing, the clippings and calls, the music. I just didn’t think.”
“No, you didn’t.” Raven signaled the waitress that she would like another glass of wine. “This is beginning to remind me of the summer of ’83.”
When Mr. and Mrs. X had come into their lives. When they had been torn apart, their lives changed forever.
“Excuse me. You’re Andie Bennett, aren’t you? Dr. Andie Bennett?”
Andie turned toward the woman who had come up to their table, stiffening slightly. The last time she had been asked that question, the person had threatened to put a noose around her neck. “I am. Can I help you?”
“You don’t know me. I’m Gwen White, one of Patti Pierpont’s teachers. Her English teacher.”
Andie smiled, feeling somewhat better. She hardly thought this staid-looking high-school English teacher the type to threaten her, especially not in the middle of a busy and popular restaurant. “Nice to meet you.”
“I just wanted to ask, how’s Patti doing? She’s such a sweet girl, and so smart, I hate that this terrible thing has happened to her. And I wondered, if you see her, will you tell her I’m thinking of her? That we all are.”
“Thank you,” Andie said. “That’s very nice. I’ll tell her.”
The woman’s gaze darted to Raven, then she looked back at Andie. She lowered her voice. “I knew something bad was going on in the Pierpont home, but I didn’t know what. Patti always seemed so unhappy. Not like the other girls at all.”
Andie opened her mouth to comment, but closed it as the teacher continued. “And she was so angry. Some of her essays… It’s really tragic.”
“Angry?” Andie said. “How do you mean?”
The woman flushed. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Like I said, she’s a lovely girl.” The woman took a step backward, looking uncomfortable, obviously feeling she had said too much or spoken inappropriately. “Please, if there’s anything I can do to help her, call me. And tell her I said hello.”
Andie promised she would and watched the woman walk away, thinking about what she had said. Patti had been unhappy. Angry. She had, apparently, revealed both through her writing.
Just as Andie had always told Martha—her daughter had known everything that went on in that house.
“Andie?” Raven leaned toward her. “What is it? You look strange.”
Andie glanced back at her friend. “Something that woman said, I don’t know, it just struck me funny.” She shook her head. “What’s new with you?” she said, abruptly changing the subject.
Whatever demon had held Raven in its grip before the teacher had stopped by their table was gone. Raven seemed almost her old self, confident and sarcastic and funny.
She launched into a description of what she had been doing on the Gatehouse development. “In one way David Sadler’s a dream to work for. He has style and class. He understands the importance of quality, he lets me do my job without questioning my every choice. I’m the professional in this area, and he lets me do my job. In another way,” Raven finished, looking Andie in the eyes, “he’s a real jerk.”
“What do you mean?” Andie asked, despite herself. She was treading on dangerous ground here, discussing a patient this way. She should try to change the subject, try to steer Raven back to her actual work on Gatehouse. Her curiosity got the better of her instead.
“He’s got this thing about women. It’s kind of creepy. You know what I mean?”
“I don’t think I do.”
“It’s a sexual thing. He’s always trying to get me in bed, but that’s not it. I can handle that overt crap. It’s something…sly. Like he’s watching me or…playing some sort of game.”
Andie reached for her water; her hand trembled slightly. “It sounds…unsettling.”
“Do you know him?”
Andie met her friend’s gaze, startled by the direct question. “Excuse me?”
“Do you know him? David Sadler?”
Andie’s heart stopped, then began to thud heavily. She lowered her gaze to her plate, pretending great interest in her Caesar salad. “I’m sure I’ve seen him around town.”
“Have you met him face-to-face?”
“Perhaps,” she murmured evasively. “His family’s prominent, we might have served on a few of the same committees.”
“But you don’t remember?”
“If we served on some committees?” Andie speared some of the crunchy romaine. “No, I don’t recall.”
“And you don’t recall if you met, out and about in Thistledown?”
Andie brought the forkful of salad to her mouth. Raven was definitely pumping her for information about David Sadler. Could she know he was a patient of hers? Could she suspect? Why would she care?
Andie chewed slowly, pretending to search her memory. She swallowed, then patted her mouth with her napkin. “Met him out and about? I’m not sure.”
Raven narrowed her eyes, as if she suspected Andie of lying. “If you’d met him, you’d remember. There’s something startling-looking about him. He’s quite handsome, actually.”
“Well, there you have it,” Andie murmured. “So, tell me, when will the first model be complete?”