Mind Games (43 page)

Grace had never been so glad to have a jam-packed calendar. If it hadn’t been for her patients, she thought she might have exploded with impatience. As it was, she was
doing the only three things she seemed able to do, work aside. One, doing whatever she could – in conjunction with Dr Parés’ relaxation therapies – to try and keep
Cathy’s spirits up. Two, doing much the same for Sam, while the powers-that-be continued to hold his badge hostage. And three, making sure that Jerry Wagner – about whose whole-hearted
commitment she was no longer in any doubt – was kept as thoroughly in the picture as possible so far as the investigation was concerned.

‘She does seem to be coping better,’ Wagner told Grace at a quick meeting in his office after one of his visits to the house of detention. ‘But it’s getting to be a real
tightrope dance trying to keep Cathy positive without giving her false hope.’

‘At least there is real hope now,’ Grace pointed out.

‘Tell me the latest,’ Wagner urged.

‘Nothing on the cemetery yet,’ Grace said, reporting what she’d just
happened
to hear Martinez telling Sam. ‘The climate and the mountain, in particular, seemed
to point to Seattle again – you know, the Olympics or maybe the Cascades – but so far everything’s drawn a blank.’

‘It’ll come,’ Wagner said.

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Yes, I do. One way or another. Either Hayman’s body will wash up and then they’ll have dental records and blood to help them along, or the boy’s photo’s going to
stir someone’s memory.’

Grace was getting ready to ask the $64,000 question again.

‘All these people are working now, all over the country, law enforcement agencies getting involved in Seattle and up in Maine and wherever – the State Attorney must
know
that Hayman keeping those photographs of Marie and Arnold and Frances has to mean that Cathy shouldn’t have been charged with the killings.’

‘It’s still all completely inconclusive, Grace,’ Wagner said.

‘But enough for reasonable doubt, surely? Enough at least to let her out of jail while they carry on investigating, maybe on bail?’

‘There was no bail at the start of all this,’ he reminded her, ‘and it’s not going to be allowed now. The judge would have to drop the charges in order for Cathy to get
out.’ He paused. ‘My people and I are working on that possibility all the time, Grace.’

‘So you do think it’s worth pursuing?’ she persisted.

‘I think there’s a chance,’ he said. ‘Just don’t tell Cathy that.’

Grace smiled at him. ‘Who’s the psychologist here?’

‘He really seemed to mean it,’ she told Sam that evening.

‘You seem surprised.’

‘I was a little surprised,’ Grace said, ‘at how committed he seems now to getting Cathy out of that place.’

‘Why should that surprise you?’ Sam wanted to know.

‘Because if the charges against her are dropped, there’ll be no trial and Wagner’s hype’s going to get cut by about seven-eighths – not to mention his
fee.’

‘But all the hype he
will
get’s going to be great hype.’

‘I thought the theory was that all publicity’s worth having,’ Grace said.

Sam shrugged. ‘Believe me, if Jerry Wagner manages to play a significant part in getting those charges dropped, he’ll find a way to capitalize on that.’

Grace smiled. ‘I didn’t know you were such a cynic.’

‘I’m a cop,’ Sam said simply. ‘How can I not be a cynic?’ He paused. ‘Or, at least, I hope I’m still a cop.’

Wagner caught Grace just as she was about to begin a session late on Thursday morning.

‘I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up,’ he said, ‘but I think there’s a real chance that if we prepare this thing solidly enough, the judge might react
well.’

‘You mean, let her out?’ Grace had almost stopped breathing.

‘I’m talking about a chance, Grace. No guarantees.’

Grace’s eyes moved to her wristwatch. There was a child waiting for her.

‘You said we need to prepare. Anything I can do?’

‘There might be,’ he said.

‘Tell me.’

‘The judge is going to be concerned about Cathy’s wellbeing. He’s going to want to take a number of elements under consideration. Even if the charges are dropped, until another
person stands accused, there’s always a possibility that Cathy could be re-arrested.’

‘So that’s going to be hanging over her.’ The prospect was awful, but even that had to be better than staying in jail. ‘What else?’

‘The case has attracted a lot of publicity,’ Wagner said. ‘You think Cathy’s going to be left in peace if she’s released?’

Grace thought she knew now where he was going. ‘Are you saying that the judge is going to want to know she has somewhere secure to live? A place of safety, that kind of thing?’

‘Let’s just say I think it might affect the judge’s decision-making.’

Grace left a couple of moments’ silence before she spoke again.

‘Do you think my house would get approval?’

‘I don’t know,’ Wagner answered, ‘but it’s got to be worth, a shot.’

Grace knew that at least a dozen thoughts
ought
to have scudded through her mind, raising their heads to be considered, but if they were hoping to get her to glance their way, they were
hoping in vain. Only one thought, one
word
, was coming through, loud and clear.

Yes.

‘Go for it,’ she said. ‘By all means, go for it.’

‘Are you certain, Grace?’

She remembered the way Cathy had looked in the hospital after she’d tried to hang herself.

‘Absolutely,’ she said.

The doubts began creeping in about a half-hour after her patient had departed. This was, Grace knew, not a problem to be dealt with in total isolation; she ought, she was well
aware, to be discussing it with someone.

She started with Harry, but he was in a mood for eating, walking or having his belly scratched, and not in the mood for listening. Grace knew she had no alternative but to speak to an
intelligent, at least slightly detached,
human.

She began with the person most likely to agree with her.

She called David Becket.

‘No one knows better than you,’ he said, ‘that we’re dealing with a terribly traumatized teenager. Have you considered the disruption that Cathy would bring into your
home – into your life?’

Grace told him that she had, and David said that aside from that, he thought it the best possible idea he’d heard in a very long time.

Bolstered, Grace called David’s son. Sam said that he felt much as he guessed she did; he was much too glad at the prospect of Cathy getting out of the house of detention to allow
practical issues to cloud the pleasure.

‘They couldn’t find a better person to take care of her, that’s for sure.’

‘I hope that’s true,’ Grace said.

‘You know it is,’ Sam told her. ‘Come on, Grace, you spend your whole life taking care of kids with problems, and you’ve believed in Cathy from the start every way you
could.’

‘Yes, I have,’ she agreed, quietly.

‘I do have a couple of questions,’ Sam said.

‘Shoot.’

‘How long would you envisage her staying?’ He paused. ‘Or are you thinking about a permanent kind of arrangement?’

‘I don’t know, Sam. I haven’t had time to think about anything too much.’

‘And what if it all goes wrong for Cathy? What if nothing sticks against Hayman and they re-arrest her? That’s a lot of potential heartache down the road for you, Grace.’

‘Wouldn’t I feel the same heartache wherever Cathy was staying in the meantime?’

‘I think it would be worse if you’d been living together.’

Grace thought about it for all of two seconds.

‘Isn’t that a chance I have to take, Sam?’

‘That’s up to you,’ he said. ‘You’ll have my support whatever you decide. For what that’s worth.’

‘A lot,’ Grace said.

After Sam, she called Magda Shrike. As always, she was swift to ask all the right questions. She wanted to know what the other options might be for Cathy, asked Grace what
effect she thought swapping prison for another institution might have on Cathy if Grace refused. And then she asked the big one: did Grace really trust Cathy enough to have her in her home?

‘Yes, I do,’ Grace said, unhesitatingly.

‘Then I’m just going to tell you what you already know,’ Magda said. ‘That if you say no, you’re likely to find it tough to live with yourself – but that may
not be a good enough reason to say yes.’ She paused. ‘And it certainly doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take as much time as you can over making the decision.’

‘I don’t even know if the judge is going to accept the offer,’ Grace said.

‘Not to mention Cathy herself,’ Magda added, dryly.

The only strongly dissenting voice was Claudia’s.

‘You’re not really considering this, Grace?’

‘Of course I am.’

‘You mustn’t. It’s a terrible idea.’

‘Why is it?’ Grace was startled by her sister’s vehemence. ‘Because she’s a
murder
suspect.’

‘She’s innocent, Claudia. And if this happens, it’ll be because a judge believes that too.’

‘Maybe she is, maybe not. Either way, you can’t take the chance.’

‘I can,’ Grace said.

‘You mustn’t,’ Claudia told her again.

All her life Grace had reacted badly when people had tried to tell her what she could or could not do. She tried not to get mad at Claudia now, because she knew that her sister was only trying
to be protective.

‘It’s a done deal,’ she told her, ‘or as good as.’

‘You said you were just thinking about it,’ Claudia said. ‘You said the judge might not even accept it.’

‘That part’s true,’ Grace said. ‘But I’m not just
thinking
about it any more. I’ve made up my mind.’

‘Grace, you
can’t
.’

‘Claudia, I can, and given half a chance, I’m going to.’

That night, Grace dreamt that a powerful, fair-haired man was beating a small girl with long, blonde hair. He was yelling at her, though in the dream his voice was so muffled
that Grace couldn’t hear his words, yet she could hear the girl’s crying with strident and painful clarity.

The dream switched, like a bad edit in a movie, to another man – Frank Lucca – standing over Claudia, aged about seven. She was not crying and he was not yelling at her. He was
bending over her, and the dream was silent except for the sound of Grace’s own breathing and heartbeat as she hid and watched her father lowering himself over her sister.

Grace woke up, her lashes and cheeks wet. She couldn’t remember when she had last wept in her sleep.

She switched on her bedside lamp. It was almost three a.m. Harry was at the end of the bed, watching her with his sharp, warm eyes.

‘Hey,’ Grace said softly, and he got up and padded his way across the duvet until he got to just below her right shoulder, and then he lay down again and gave one of his grunts.

Ordinarily, Harry was all the company Grace needed.

Not tonight.

She telephoned Sam.

‘Becket.’ He sounded too alert for that time of night.

‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ Grace asked.

‘Ask my body.’

‘I’d love to.’ She swore she could hear his smile through the phone. ‘At least this is one advantage of you being on suspension,’ she said. ‘It’s the
middle of the night and you’re home when I need you.’

‘Do you?’

‘Do I what?’

‘Do you need me?’

Grace thought for about half a second.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Give me fifteen to twenty,’ Sam said and put down the phone.

She told him about her dreams over a cup of hot chocolate in the kitchen.

‘At least you don’t need to bother analysing them,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure why they got to me as strongly as they did.’

‘They were awful dreams,’ he said simply. ‘Ugly and scary.’

‘I guess they were.’

‘You want to talk about them some more? Or you want to put them away? What’s better for you?’

Grace smiled at him. ‘I want to go back to bed.’

‘Okay.’

‘I don’t want to go back alone.’

Sam smiled back at her. ‘Good,’ he said, softly.

It was the first time they had made love, fully and completely, since that other first time, up on Sam’s roof, six weeks before. They had both agreed that they were
holding off, mostly because of all the bad stuff happening, partly because of the pain in his back – for which Sam was now having to take anti-inflammatory medication – but suddenly
they both realized that if Wagner got lucky and Cathy moved out of jail into Grace’s place, their intimate life might have to get put back on hold.

Enough was enough.

‘Wonder stuff,’ Sam said against her ear, a little while after they’d finished making love.

That close up, his baritone voice sounded almost like a big cat’s purr.

‘I don’t think,’ Grace said, ‘I’ve ever felt so relaxed in my whole life.’

‘Me neither.’

She drew her face away from his shoulder just far enough to see his profile. ‘I feel safe, too, Sam.’

She saw a muscle tensing in his jaw.

‘I hope you go on feeling that way,’ he said, softly.

‘Any reason I shouldn’t?’ Insecurity hit Grace harder than she’d anticipated.

‘Many reasons.’

She drew another inch further away. ‘Am I coming on too strong?’

‘No way.’ He turned towards her, wrapped her close. ‘Don’t think that, whatever you do.’

She allowed herself to relax into his body again.

‘We haven’t talked about the problems, Grace,’ Sam said.

She understood, instantly, what he meant.

‘You’re talking black and white,’ she said.

‘You must have thought about it.’

‘Not really. Not in a problematic sense, anyway.’ Grace paused. ‘I knew it was something that was going to figure sometime, but then again, I think I’ve always had a
tendency to ignore headaches until they hit.’ She could feel Sam watching her. ‘What?’

‘You remind me of my father.’