Sleep No More (9 page)

*   *   *

“I’M GLAD YOU LEARNED
that much, Mama.”

Bonnie.

She was sitting in the rocking chair by the window, dressed, as usual, in her Bugs Bunny T-shirt, with her leg tucked beneath her. The moonbeams streaming through the window were touching her curly hair with light.

Eve felt a rush of pure love as she gazed at her. “Well, it’s about time you came around. I thought you’d abandoned me.”

“No, you didn’t. You know better.” Her smile lit her small face. “I told you that I wasn’t going to be around as often as I was before. You don’t need me as much now.”

“The hell I don’t. I always need you.”

“You love me, you don’t need me. You’re free of me now that you know where I am and who was to blame for my death. Now we can just enjoy the love.”

All that wisdom and maturity in one small spirit. Bonnie had told her a long time ago that she couldn’t remain the seven-year-old little girl she had been before she died. Souls matured and became what they were meant to be. But Eve wasn’t about to let Bonnie talk her into letting her drift away from Eve.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t come around more often.”

Bonnie threw back her head and laughed. “Mama, you never give up. Admit that you didn’t miss me as much as you did before.”

“I will not.” She added grudgingly, “Okay, I didn’t feel as sad and hollow, but that didn’t mean I didn’t miss you. I was just thinking of you a minute ago.”

“I know. Me and Beth.”

She stiffened. “What do you know about Beth?”

“Not a lot. I know she’s afraid. I know she’s strong like you. So strong.”

“Even now? In her photo, she looked very strong, but that was when she was a teenager.”

“She’s stronger now. She’s had to fight, and that makes you develop all kinds of inner strength. You don’t know how hard it was for her.”

“I can imagine.” She paused. “I’ve been dreaming about Beth. Was it—” Bonnie was shaking her head. “No?”

“I can’t do that kind of thing. Dreams aren’t easy. I have a hard enough time contacting anyone myself in a dream state. I sure can’t link anyone else up.”

“Then what happened?” Her lips tightened. “I didn’t imagine it, Bonnie.”

“Don’t be defensive. I’m not the only one around who cares about you … and Beth.”

“But that’s why you came, isn’t it? It’s Beth.”

“No, it’s you,” she said gently. “You need her. I want to build a wall around you of people you love and who love you. That way you won’t want to come to me too soon, Mama.”

“I don’t love Beth. I don’t even know her.”

“It will come. All the more reason to go help her.”

“I was going to do that anyway. I promised Sandra.”

Bonnie tilted her head and smiled.

“Okay, there’s something wrong going on,” Eve said. “It needs to be fixed. But I can’t promise I’ll love this woman just because she’s my sister. It doesn’t work that way.” She frowned. “And I don’t need any walls of people around me. I have Joe.” She had a sudden rush of panic at a sudden thought. “I do have Joe, don’t I? Nothing’s going to happen to Joe.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I can’t promise, but I think Joe is going to be fine.”

“What do you mean, you can’t promise? You scare me and tell me about surrounding me with people so I won’t try to come to you, then you won’t guarantee—” She stopped. “I know. I know. No guarantees.”

“That’s right.” Bonnie leaned back in the rocking chair. “All I can guarantee is that we have a little while together right now, and that feels very good to me. Do you really think that Beth has hair like mine?”

“Sort of. It’s darker, of course.” Eve slowly curled up against the headboard, her gaze fastened on Bonnie. Any time with Bonnie was good time. “I like yours better.”

“She’s my aunt, isn’t she? How strange…”

The words took Eve off guard. “Yes.” Yet the idea of Beth having a bond to her Bonnie was even more jarring than the knowledge of her own relationship.

Beth and Bonnie … together.

“Are you trying to make me more aware of the family connection?”

Bonnie smiled. “Yes, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Maybe.” She smiled back at her and shook her head. “We’ll have to see, won’t we? You’re not at all dumb, baby.”

“Neither is Beth, Mama. She’s just lost…”

*   *   *

EVE’S PLANE LANDED IN SAN DIEGO
at 12:17
P.M.
the next day, and Joe met her at baggage claim ten minutes later.

“You look rested.” His gaze was searching her face as he took her bag. “You managed to get some sleep?”

“Enough.” She followed him through the doors to the parking lot. “Where are we going?”

“To the studio of Dr. Kendra Michaels.”

“Studio? She’s an artist?”

“Definitely an artist at what she does. Though she doesn’t paint, she’s a musician. I understand during her wild days she traveled the country singing and playing her guitar to earn her living in coffeehouses, on street corners, wherever.”

“‘Wild days,’” she repeated as she got into the passenger seat of the rental car. “Okay, talk to me. Who is this Kendra and how can she help us find out what happened to Beth at that hospital? She sounds like a colorful character, but we don’t need color, we need efficiency.”

“I’ll let you judge whether she can produce after you meet her.” He drove out of the parking lot. “But I’ll fill you in on her background. And, yes, she’s definitely colorful. She was totally blind until she underwent an operation when she was twenty. She had a number of years after that operation in which she tried to make up for lost time in ways that were sometimes not socially accepted.”

“The wild years?”

He nodded. “When she got tired of sowing wild oats, she settled down and completed two advanced degrees. She has a doctorate in psychology and a master’s in music theory. From what I understand, she’s done a lot of important research in the field of music therapy. She also sees clients, mostly special kids, at her studio.”

“Well, that’s a switch. I can’t see any connection between a wild-ass street entertainer and the educator she’s become.”

“Evidently, Kendra made one.” He shrugged. “Sometimes, you can’t tell what drives her. You have to go along for the ride.”

“And how far is that ride going to take us to finding Beth?” She frowned. “I still don’t see her value, Joe. And how did you come across her?”

“Do you remember I was out here a couple years ago trying to track that serial killer, Tim Vick? The local police were cooperating, but we were coming up with zilch. One of the detectives had used Kendra on another case the previous year and suggested I try to get her to help.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, she’s not a psychic or something?”

“No.” He chuckled. “Though your horror is a little misplaced, don’t you think? It’s not as if you don’t believe that there are legitimate psychics.”

“But they’re very rare, and phonies abound. If Kendra wasn’t a psychic, why did the police call on her for help?”

“She has a rare talent. She was born blind due to a degenerative corneal disease in the womb. She’s totally brilliant and developed all of her other senses to a phenomenal degree. She compensated by using her hearing, smell, touch, every sense she had. Then, when she was twenty, a stem-cell procedure gave her sight. She applied that same discipline she had learned when blind to everything that crossed her field of vision. Now, nothing gets past her. She can walk into a crime scene or indeed any other scene and pick up on things no one else can see. Often, she can put together those impressions and come up with answers. An agent at the FBI San Diego field office told me that she once cracked a case by walking into a room and hearing that its echo had a different quality than the rooms next to it.”

“It sounds kind of spooky.” She grimaced. “Shades of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Exactly.” He grinned. “I knew you’d be skeptical. I was, too. You have to meet her.”

“Which we’re obviously going to do. I’ll have to decide if I think we should use her after I talk to her.”

“Use her?” His smile widened. “That may not be the way it works out. We’ll have to ask her nicely, then try to persuade her when she tells us to go to hell.”

“What?”

“Kendra doesn’t like being taken away from teaching her kids. Or her research. Every now and then, she’ll do a job for the police or FBI, but it’s rare. She turns them away all the time.”

“But you said she took the Tim Vick case?”

“Not at first. She turned down the local police when they asked her.”

“But she didn’t turn you down?”

“I was more persistent. After I decided that maybe she could help, I analyzed her refusal and went back to see her and attacked her weakness.”

“And what was her weakness?”

“The kids. She was devoted to teaching special kids. She’s one tough lady, and I don’t think she lets many people under her guard. But Tim Vick killed six children during his rampage in Atlanta. I just brought it to her attention that if we didn’t catch him, he might kill more in San Diego.”

Clever, Eve thought. Joe was always thinking, always searching for the answers, and he usually found them. “She gave in?”

“Grudgingly. She likes her own way and doesn’t like to be involved in police work. She wasn’t pleased that I’d found a way to manipulate her against her will.”

“Was it worth your trouble?” She was trying to remember the details of the case. “Did you get Vick?”

He nodded. “And, yes, Kendra was definitely worth the trouble. She’s fairly incredible. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I hadn’t thought she could get us the information we need.”

“Then we’ll find a way to get her to go along with us.” She wrinkled her nose. “But this time, we have no children in danger to dangle before her to get her to help us at that hospital. Is she really that difficult?”

He pulled into a strip mall. “In a few minutes, you’ll be able to judge for yourself. I called her from the airport, and she said she didn’t want to see me, but she’d give me thirty minutes so that I wouldn’t keep bothering her.”

“Did you tell her I was coming with you?”

“No, she knows nothing about you. She saw to it that we didn’t get chummy enough for confidences while we were working on the Vick case. She did her job, but she definitely resented my pulling her into it.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

He shrugged. “She’s tough.” He checked his watch. “She’s probably still busy with an appointment. She told me that I’d have to wait in the viewing room until she was finished.”

“Viewing room?”

“Some of Kendra’s students are autistic or have big-time emotional problems, and she likes to work with them alone and without interference. But she gives the parents the opportunity to watch the lessons from an observation room with one-way glass if they prefer.” He nodded at a small brick building. “Her office is right over there on the left.”

CHAPTER

5

JOE MUST BE WRONG
, Eve thought as she studied Kendra Michaels’s expression through the one-way window. She was sitting beside a little six-year-old boy while he played the xylophone. Joe had called her a tough lady, but this woman’s face was alight with eagerness, intelligence, and understanding as she focused all her attention on the child’s complete intentness as he played the instrument. She was of medium height and slim but far from fragile-looking. Pale brown hair was shoulder-length and sun-streaked and framed a strong face that reflected control and discipline. Large hazel eyes set far apart shone with intelligence and humor as she watched the boy. Kendra wasn’t a beautiful woman, but her smile was beautiful.

Kendra finally put a gentle hand out to stop the boy. “It’s time for you to go, Justin. Your mama is outside waiting.”

He ignored her, still pounding the keys. She held out her hand and took the stick. He started to fight her, then was still, staring up into her face. “Pretty?”

She nodded. “Very pretty, Justin. Beautiful. Next time, it will be even more beautiful because while you’re at home, you’ll hear the sound and the notes in your mind. Then when we get together, you’ll let me hear them, too.” Her finger reached out and traced the outline of his mouth. “A smile can be beautiful, too. It can be like a song that goes on and on and echoes inside you and around you. Maybe you’ll let me hear that song, too?”

His intent expression didn’t change.

She smiled. “No?” She took his hand. “Think about it.” She put his fingers on her lips. “I’ll give you my song. Here it is. I’ll be waiting for you to give me yours.”

He didn’t move, his gaze on her face. Then he jerked away and ran toward the door across the room.

Kendra stayed by the xylophone. “Good-bye, Justin. I’ll see you in two days.”

He stopped at the door and looked back at her. Then he was suddenly running back to her.

Kendra smiled as he stopped before her. “Yes?”

He reached out a tentative finger and slowly traced the outline of her smile. “Pretty … song…” Then he whirled and was running back to the door and out of the studio.

The smile remained for an instant while her gaze lingered on the door. Then it faded as she stood up and began to tidy the studio. “You might as well come in, Quinn. You’re on the clock. I have another student in thirty minutes, and I won’t keep her waiting.”

Kendra’s tone was completely different from the way she had spoken to the little boy. It was crisp, cool, and there was a distinct edge. Her demeanor had the same coolness, and that warm, affectionate magnetism that had been present when she’d been interacting with little Justin had disappeared.

Joe wasn’t wrong. Kendra was, indeed, one tough lady.