The Night Before (20 page)

Well, now, it was happening. She was going to get exactly the same treatment as the rest of the family.

Atropos switched on the radio . . . and a song was playing that gave her a little inspiration. Who was the artist? Def Leppard . . . that was it. And the song? “Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Now, there was an idea.

A damned good idea.

“Tell me about the boating accident,” Adam suggested as Caitlyn settled onto the couch for her next session. Some of the weirdness of being back in Rebecca’s office had vanished, but Caitlyn still felt odd. She didn’t want to think it was because of Adam, because he was handsome, because there was an air of mystery about him, because she found him too damned sexy for
her
own good.

“What happened?”

She thought back, remembered the calm sea, the bank of clouds that had seemed so far away. So peaceful. So benign. “I’d gone sailing with my sister, Kelly. Just the two of us. Kind of a birthday celebration. We’d just turned twenty-five, and that’s when our trust funds kicked in. Anyway the boat was Kelly’s birthday present to herself,” Caitlyn said, the words coming out as she remembered the hot, muggy day that had started out with so much promise.

“Where are we going?” Caitlyn had asked when Kelly had shown up on her doorstep and insisted they celebrate their newfound financial freedom.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m not sure I like surprises.”

“Quit being a spoilsport, okay? For once, unwind. Come on.” She’d convinced Caitlyn to get into the car, and she’d driven to the marina. After parking, she’d stuffed a beach bag into Caitlyn’s arms and pulled a small padded cooler from her trunk.

“You rented a boat?” Caitlyn asked as they walked along the sun-baked planks of the pier.

“Not rented.”

“What do you mean?”

“I bought myself a birthday present.” She paused in front of a slip where a gleaming cabin cruiser was moored.

“This?” Caitlyn’s had asked, shocked. “It’s huge.”

“Hardly a yacht.”

“But—do you even know how to drive it?”

“Steer it. Of course. I’ve been given lessons. Now, hurry up or we’ll be late for the party.”

“Party?” Caitlyn had felt as if she’d just stepped onto another planet. “What party?”

“The one I’m throwing for us.”

“You didn’t tell me about any party,” Caitlyn had said, eyeing the sleek craft as it rocked against its moorings.

“Sure I did. Ages ago! Now, come on, let’s take her out for her maiden voyage, just the two of us. I’ve got some champagne to celebrate.” She’d climbed into the boat and opened the cooler to show the long necks of two green bottles capped in foil. “Dom Perignon,” she said, as if that would add to the allure. Then she stepped lithely out of her shorts to reveal the bottom of a yellow bikini. “We’ll go over to Hilton Head and dock in at the resort. I’ve rented a banquet room for our party.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Abso-frickin’-lutely. We can’t turn twenty-five without a party. It’s kind of our last hurrah before we become real adults.”

“I thought we were real adults.”

“Speak for yourself. Come on.” Kelly had flashed her naughty smile, and her hair glinted red in the shafts of sunlight piercing the clouds. “We deserve this. Finally we’ve got our share of Grandpa Benny’s money. God, how long have we heard about it?” She stood on the deck, one hip thrown out as she’d taken a long, appreciative look at her purchase. “You know what I think?”

“I’d hate to guess.”

“I think, no, I believe that old bastard would have liked nothing better than for his favorite granddaughters to do a little celebrating.”

“What makes you think we were his favorites?”

Kelly had laughed and winked as she’d squinted at Caitlyn. “Who else? Amanda? Hannah? Or those damned Biscaynes? Come on, I’m sure we were his favorites. Not that it matters. Now, come on, Caitie-Did! Let’s go.”

Of course, she’d been unable to resist. Kelly’s enthusiasm was and always had been infectious.

Now, sitting in the psychologist’s office, Caitlyn remembered the day vividly, and whereas she’d rarely spoken of what had happened on her twenty-fifth birthday to anyone, not even the members of her family, she told Adam. About sailing through the darkening water, about the clouds rolling in, about the friends and family that had gathered. There had been a band and a birthday cake and champagne and they’d partied long and hard into the night. By the time they returned to the boat, the wind had come up. Kelly had been drinking, but had insisted she could maneuver the craft back to the mainland, and Caitlyn had consumed too much champagne to argue. Looking back, it was a situation set up for tragedy.

On the way back to the marina it had begun to rain, but Kelly had been undaunted at the helm of her new craft. She’d turned on her running lights, and Caitlyn had felt more than the light buzz from her champagne. But beneath the euphoria ran a darker sensation, a headache threatening to throb, a tightness in her skull. However, if Kelly had felt any hint of her own upcoming hangover, she didn’t show it. She had still been laughing at the weather, standing at the helm, the wind tearing at her hair when the boat just stopped, the engine sputtering and dying.

“What the hell?” Kelly had muttered but was still laughing as she tried the ignition. The engine ground and then nothing. “Jesus . . . this isn’t supposed to happen. I had the thing checked over by a mechanic. When I see him again I swear I’m going to wring his fat neck!” Suddenly it seemed darker than it had been, which, of course was impossible. But the lights of shore appeared miles away, the wind picking up eerily. “Shit.”

“Did you run out of gas?”

“I don’t think so. Christ, it’s dark out here.” She’d fumbled in a compartment for a flashlight and managed to switch it on. The boat had rocked on a swell and the night seemed eerie and stark . . . as if they were alone in the world.

Caitlyn’s nerves were strung tight. “Maybe we should call for help,” she’d said.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the Coast Guard.” The wind had quickly died, and the water was quiet. Deathly quiet. Too quiet . . . just the lap of the water against the hull accompanied by the gentle rocking of the craft. Caitlyn stared out at the water, imagined she saw dark shapes shifting below the surface.

“There’s nothing wrong with the engine.” Kelly was still cranking on the ignition, muttering under her breath, when the damned thing started again. She gave it some gas. The engine roared. “See! It was nothing!” She turned to look smugly back at Caitlyn, but there was something in the air, the feel of electricity that Caitlyn sensed. Just a trace of smoke—the scent of electrical wires burning.

“And you wanted to call for help!” Kelly laughed.

“I think we should still—”

BAM!

The explosion tore through the boat. Smoke and fire erupted. Crackling loudly over the splintering of wood. Caitlyn was thrown off her feet. Her head banged against the deck. Pain blasted through her brain. Her head reeled.

From somewhere faraway Kelly screamed in terror.

The boat pitched and shuddered.

Caitlyn struggled to stay conscious. Frantically she wrapped her fingers through the railing.

“Kelly!” she tried to scream, but no words came. “Kelly!” She was swirling, the blackness trying to pull her under.

With a slow, ominous groan, the hull cracked, wood splintering, fire burning on the spilled oil and gasoline. The cruiser trembled, then crumpled in upon itself.

“Kelly!” Caitlyn forced out, but it was barely a whisper. Oh, God, where was she? “Kelly!” Panic strangled her, and blackness threatened to swallow her. She clung to a piece of the railing, her eyes narrowing through the smoke and darkness as Kelly’s dream boat sank deeper into the surrounding void. Cold water tumbled over her, pulling Caitlyn downward as she flailed and tried to stay afloat.
God, please don’t let me lose consciousness, don’t let me drown here. Kelly! Kelly, where are you?
A seat cushion floated past and she grabbed wildly for it, wrapping her arms around the bobbing piece of plastic and foam. “Kelly,” she cried, desperate, coughing and sputtering. “Kelly!” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t keep her eyes open. And then the blackness consumed her. She felt the cold water pulling at her and from somewhere far away she thought she heard a bone-chilling, agonized groan, but she couldn’t locate the sound.

Water filled her lungs. She could no longer fight.

She closed her eyes and sent up a prayer to a God she didn’t trust and then she let go....

The accident had been a horrid experience, one she still couldn’t think about too long. Now, ten years later, as she sat in Adam Hunt’s office, she felt a chill as cold as the sea had been that night. Shivering, she looked up at him leaning back in his chair, his hand propping his chin, his note pad balanced upon a leg, his eyes centered on her. “Are you okay?” he asked when she stopped talking. Only then did she feel the tears in her eyes. She blinked. Looked away and heard the chair protest as he stood and picked the tissue box off the table.

Sitting next to her, he handed her a Kleenex.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, grabbing the damned tissue and swiping away the stupid tears. Why was she such an emotional wreck? Why couldn’t she pull herself together? She knew he saw people in this condition all the time. It was his job, for God’s sake. This was what he dealt with. Worse, if that was possible. Yet she felt like an idiot as he sat there all concerned.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Adam asked, his voice soft with concern as she threw Kelly’s nagging worries out of her mind.

“There’s nothing more to say.” She managed to stem the flow of those damned tears. “I was comatose when a passing boat found me, and I woke up three days later.”

“And Kelly?”

“Kelly always manages,” Caitlyn said. “She was picked up, too, and out of the hospital before me. I think she was more ticked off about the boat than anything else. She hadn’t bothered to insure it, and she’s been kicking herself ever since.” Managing a smile, she added, “And I haven’t heard her talking about buying another one.”

“Can you tell me anything else about her?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Tons. She’s the interesting one. The adventurous one. The bright one. She was always getting me and Griffin, my friend growing up, into big trouble. Now she’s a buyer for Maxxell’s. Isn’t around as much as I’d like and she . . . she and the family don’t get along.”

“Why is that?”

“Because of the boating accident. She not only blew through a big chunk of her trust fund but she nearly killed me and herself.” Caitlyn tore at the corners of her tissue.

He waited and she bit her lip. There were some things that were private.

“Caitlyn?” His voice was so close, a whisper that changed the cadence of her heartbeat. Which was absolutely foolish. She smelled soap and some kind of aftershave, a musky scent that disturbed her on a very basic and female level. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” he asked, and for a moment she wanted to curl up against him and cling to him.

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” she admitted, shredding the Kleenex.

He waited. “Whatever you think. It’s your decision.”

She expected him to touch her, to pat her on the shoulder or give her a hug. And she wanted him to. Just the feel of a man’s concerned touch. She saw the hesitation in his eyes, the spark of something dangerous, then it quickly disappeared. Adam pushed up from the couch as if realizing that being in such close proximity to her was a mistake, that there was something perilous about being so close to her, and he returned to his desk chair.

She’d come so far, she couldn’t back off now, Caitlyn decided. She was here because she needed help. No matter what else, she had to get better, and Adam was going to help her. Come hell or high water. She drew in a deep breath. “Kelly made some charges a few years back. Right after the boating accident. About my older brother, Charles. That he . . . well, he used to come into her room and . . .” She let out the breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. Shuddering, her stomach roiling at the thought, she said, “. . . that before he died, he’d molested her.”

Adam didn’t move. “Do you believe her?”

Slowly she nodded. Remembered Charles as he had been. Ten years older. Trusted. Her father’s favorite. Her stomach twisted so hard it cramped.

“Because?”

She felt the hot rush of tears burning behind her eyes but wouldn’t release them, refused to shed one single drop.

“Because he molested you, too.”

She nodded again and she couldn’t stem the flow as the memories of hearing footsteps outside her bedroom door, listening in horror as the doorknob turned, dying a thousand deaths as he crossed the room, nearly silently. But she’d heard every muffled step, smelled him, the scent of sourness—whiskey, she now knew—mingled with the dirty musk of male sweat. Sometimes, when the moon was just right and the curtains were open, she saw his shadow stretching forward, dark, angular, and foreboding as it crawled across the carpet and up the wall. She had squeezed her eyes shut tight, her body rigid, as she tried to feign sleep. Her hands had fisted in the sheets and she’d prayed.
No, God, no . . . please don’t let him do this!

Then he had touched her, his hands trembling, his breathing a raspy pant. She had cringed and cowered, begged and cried, but he’d never stopped.

“Caitlyn?”

Startled, she opened her eyes and saw Adam kneeling in front of the couch. She was in his office—Rebecca’s office. What had happened was long ago, in a past she kept locked away. Her face was wet and she was trembling.

Adam’s head was at the same level as hers. She hadn’t heard him approach. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, sniffing and wiping at her nose.

“You don’t have to be. What happened to you is criminal.”

Again tears collected in the corners of her eyes. “It—it happened a long time ago. I was seven . . . maybe eight. He was ten years older.”

“But it never really goes away,” he said kindly and sat on the couch next to her again. This time he wrapped one strong arm over her shoulders. “I think this is enough for today.”