Woman (16 page)

     It didn't work. She began to
cry softly, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. Please come home, she
thought, even though she knew that her rage was also directed at David.

     After forty minutes, the
headache had abated slightly, the pain not searing but a dull, throbbing ache.
Liz managed to reach out for the telephone and, carefully, punch out a number,
one hand remaining pressed to her head.

     After five unanswered rings
on the other end of the line, the answering service cut in.

     "Please tell Miss
Regina that Val Bettinger's sister returned her call," she told the woman.

     Hanging up, she punched out
another number. There was no answer. After five rings, another answering
service spoke.

     "Please tell Mr.
Bettinger that his sister called again," she instructed.

     Putting down the receiver,
she put her other hand to her head.
What was if.
she wondered. How could Ganine possibly give her such a violent
headache! It seemed beyond belief. And yet—

     The thought broke off as the
hall door opened and David came in. He looked surprised to see her on the sofa,
both hands held against her skull.

     "Another
headache?" he asked in concern.

     She didn't answer, staring
at him balefully. "Was that girl here again?" he asked, crossing the
room.

     
"Don't
play cunning with me"
she said.

     "What?" He stared
at her in confusion.

     
"You
tell me if she was here," Liz told him.

     "What do you mean? I
don't understand." David sat beside her on the sofa, startled by her
abrupt shrinking away from him. "What's
wrong!"
he asked.

     
"You
tell me," she repeated.

     "Liz, you're just
confusing
me," he said. "Please
tell me what's going on. Has Ganine been here again? Is that why you're having
another headache?"

     "God damn it,
David," Liz said tensely. "Don't play games with me."

     
"Games!"
He stared at her, his expression one of utter bafflement. "You
aren't making sense," he said. "I'm really sorry that you're having
another headache but I just don't know what the hell you're talking
about."

     Her teeth were clenched as
she answered, "I'll spell it out for you then," she said.
"Check the bedroom."

     "Check—?" His
voice broke off; he stared at her uncomprehendingly. "The—"

     "The
bed,
God damn it! The
bed\"
She started crying again, half
in fury, half in pain.

     He started to say something
else, then, instead, stood and walked to the bedroom. He looked inside,
frowning in puzzlement. "Why did you tear up the bed? I made it before I
left."

     "I warn you,
David," she threatened.

     "Liz,
what are you talking about!"
he
said.

     She struggled for control.
"I'm talking about the fucking bed,"
she told him. "And I mean it literally!"

     David was speechless, he
looked at the bed, at Liz, at the bed again, at Liz. Then it hit him. The
headache
again.

     "She
has
been here," he said.

     "Oh, bravo,
bravo," Liz snarled. "You finally got it."

     He stared at her in silence.
Suddenly, he knew what she was saying. "You think—?" He broke off,
incredulous, "You think that Ganine and I—?" Again, he broke off.
"Liz are you
insane?
How
could you possibly?"

     She interrupted fiercely.
"She was here when I got back! Wearing your bathrobe!
Naked
underneath!"

     "Jesus Christ," he
muttered. He shook his head in disbelief. "And you assumed—?"

     
"Assumed!"
she screamed. The effort made her cry out in pain.

     "Liz, I don't know why
you're thinking this," he said, "but you are absolutely wrong! She
was
here this morning. I tried to give
her Dr. Thorston's number and she left in a fury! Fifteen minutes later, I made
our bed, got dressed and attended the conference!
All
afternoon,
Liz!
All
afternoon!
I just got back! How in the hell am I
supposed to have had sex with that demented girl! For that matter, how did she
get back inside the apartment?! I locked the door when I left."

     Liz stared at him with a
dumbfounded expression. "I don't—" she started, then couldn't finish.
"David, I don't. . . understand."

     "I don't understand
either," he responded. "Except—" He stopped and pulled a sheet
of paper from his jacket pocket, bringing it over to Liz. "The schedule of
events this afternoon," he said. "In case you still need proof that I
wasn't here."

     She took the paper and
glanced at it, then put it down on her lap. David walked over to the sofa and
sat beside her. He put his right arm over her shoulders. At first she stiffened
resistingly, then the tension slipped out of her and she put her head on his
shoulder. "What are we going to do?" she asked.

     "About Ganine?"

     She didn't answer.

     "I have no idea at the
moment," he said. "Except that we've got to avoid her. If she can
give you a headache. . ."

     "That isn't all she can
do," Liz said. "Look at the plants."

     Like her, he couldn't
believe his eyes at first. Then he muttered, "Jesus Christ, who
is
this girl?" he said.

     "I wish we knew,"
she said. She looked at him with sudden curiosity. "I thought you sprained
your ankle," she said.

     His smile was grim. "I
did," he said. "She rubbed it and it went away."

     "Oh, dear God,"
she said. "I don't like that at all."

     "No," he stroked
her hair. "I don't either." He grimaced as the thought struck him.
"You went to see Charlie," he said. "How is he?"

     "They can't stop the
bleeding," she told him. She shuddered. "They aren't sure if he'll
live."

     "Good God."

     "David, maybe we should
go to a hotel," she said. "Get away from her."

     He frowned. "It can't
be
that
bad," he said.
He didn't sound convinced.

     "What about Val?"
she asked.

     "Val?"

     "He was
up.
He couldn't have been more up. So was
Charlie."

     He didn't want to succumb to
everything she said. "Honey, Val didn't remember some lines of dialogue,
that's all. He didn't—"

     "It was more than that
and you
know
it," she
countered. "He had a nervous breakdown right in front of us."

     "Liz, that's carrying
it a bit far. A
nervous breakdown?"

     "I'd call it
that," she said. She winced. "Not to mention these goddamn
headaches."

     He drew in a fitful breath.
"Assuming she has. . .certain abilities. . .you angered her. Did Val? Did
Charlie?"

     "David, who
knows
what angers her?"

     He looked distressed, trying
to resist the implications of what had happened. "I just can't let myself
believe—" He broke off with a slight groan. "Move to a hotel?" he
said. "Maybe we should move to Canada."

     That brought a faint smile
to her lips despite the headache. "I'll go pack," she said.

     He smiled back and kissed
her on the forehead. She winced and pressed her right hand to the top of her
head.

     "This goddamn
headache," she muttered.

     He looked at her with uneasy
concern. "Do you. . .think it could have
been
her?" he asked as though he was hoping for a negative reply?

     "I hate to believe
it," she said, "The thought chills my blood but—" she exhaled
raggedly. "It's happened too often to be a coincidence. Then there's
Charlie. And Val."

     He nodded, his expression
one of disturbance equal to hers. All of it went counter to what he wanted to
believe about the hard realities of life but he couldn't deny the facts.
"I presume you've been taking your pain pills," he said,
distractedly.

     "Three," she
answered.

     "You have more?"

     She shook her head, the
movement causing the headache to flare. She hissed with pain.

     "You're
out
of them?" he asked.

     "I've had them for a
long time, David," she said as though his question had been critical.
"This is the first time in months—" she broke off with a faint groan,
her face distorting.

     "I better go get you
some more," he said. "Does the prescription have a refill?"

     "I think so."

     He started to get up.
"David"
she said. Standing now,
he looked down at her. "What?" he asked.

     "I'm not sure I want to
be left alone," she told him.

     "She left in anger,
didn't she?" he asked.

     "More scared than
angry," Liz replied. Her slight smile one of grim satisfaction. "I
threatened to call the police," she said.

     "Well, I doubt if
she'll be back then," David said. "And I won't be gone more than
thirty minutes."

     "All right," she
replied, her voice weak. "I don't want to be left alone but. . ." She
sighed wearily. "I'm going to need those pills. I don't know how long this
pain is going to last. And three pills is barely keeping a cap on it."

     "I'll be as quick as I
can," he told her. "Why don't you try lying down?"

     "On our
bed?"
she said sarcastically.