Season Of Strangers

He assessed her small feet and hands, the soft pink polish on her fingernails and toes. He knew what she looked like beneath the robe, but he tried very hard not to think of it. When he did, his stomach muscles tightened and he started to grow hard again. Eventually he drew out the journal, began to use Patrick’s words as well as his own impressions to describe what he’d learned—and how watching her sleep made him feel.

He wasn’t at all happy with that discovery. He felt warm all over, somewhat sexually aroused, and precariously close to losing some of his precious control. Since control was the thing he needed most, he vowed to be more careful in the future.

In the end, he left Julie a note on the rough-hewn bleached pine coffee table in front of the sofa, then let himself out, pushing the button on the doorknob to lock it behind him. All the way home he wondered if his reactions to Julie belonged wholly to Patrick—or if some part of them could have belonged to him.

Brian Heraldson, Doctor of Psychiatry, sat behind the desk in his walnut-paneled, book-lined office on Galey Avenue in Westwood. He leaned back in his chair, his long fingers steepled in front of him, his thick brown eyebrows drawn together in a frown. Brian was thirty-five years old, divorced three years ago, over it now but wary of relationships that involved any form of commitment. His practice was everything—employer, friend, mistress—and he was good at what he did.

He was open, objective and concerned. To him psychiatry wasn’t just a job. It was a guideline of how to live and a deep responsibility. And so he pondered his newest patient, Laura Maxine Ferris. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

He was uncomfortable thinking of that. It was highly unethical to become involved with a patient. And he staunchly believed in those ethics. He wouldn’t allow the physical attraction he felt for Laura to stop him from giving her the help she so desperately needed.

Unconsciously, Brian stroked his neatly trimmed beard. He had grown it ten years ago, when he had first gone into practice. It had made him look older, more mature, gave his patients more confidence in his ability to help them. Since that time, he had grown so used to his bearded appearance, he couldn’t imagine how he would look without it. He wondered if Laura Ferris was attracted to men who wore beards, then prayed most sincerely that she wasn’t.

Leaning forward, he pressed the button on the small, digital tape recorder sitting on his desk and Laura’s soft feminine voice floated out through the speakers in the compact machine.

She was telling him about her childhood, describing the day her father had left them, how terribly sad they all had been. “Mama cried the most,” she said. “I held onto Daddy’s leg when he opened the door and begged him not to leave. I said, ‘Don’t go Daddy, please,’ but he only shook his head. I remember the way his hand stroked through my hair. It was exactly the same light blond as his and his eyes were brown like mine. I started to cry and he looked like he might cry, too.”

“What about your sister? What did she do?”

“Julie just stood there and watched him pack his things. She was leaning against the wall in the corner, staring at Mama and me. She saw us crying and for some reason it made her really mad. She started shouting at Mama and me, telling us to let him leave. She said, ‘Let him go! He doesn’t want us anymore—let him leave!’ She ran over to Daddy and told him to go away. She said she didn’t care if he ever came back. I don’t think Mama ever forgave her for that.”

The chair squeaked as Brian sat up straighter. “Your mother thought it was Julie’s fault your father left you?”

A sad look crossed her face. “Not really. She just wanted someone besides herself to blame for driving him away.”

“What about you? Did you blame your sister?”

Laura smiled faintly. “No. I knew Julie loved Daddy more than any of us. That was the reason she didn’t cry. She was afraid if she started, she’d never be able to stop.”

Brian punched the stop button on the recording machine, bringing the tape to a whirring halt. He felt Laura’s pain a second time as he listened to her story, felt sorry for the lonely little girls who had only each other to love.

He’d been seeing Laura three times a week since she had been coming in for treatment. There was lots of ground to cover but she seemed to be responding very well and they had developed a nice rapport.

He fast-forwarded the tape, coming to the hypnosis session she had finally agreed to that had taken place yesterday afternoon. He had wanted to start with her childhood, hoping to pinpoint the catalyst responsible for her recent paranoia, which had apparently started only a short time ago.

He wanted to know if something frightening had actually occurred, something Laura had suppressed, something perhaps she was afraid to remember. Had she been assaulted, raped, or in some other way abused? Or was the paranoia a result of some earlier problem that had only just now begun to surface?

In either case, a single incident might have occurred which could have brought her fears to a head. He pushed the play button and leaned back in his chair, listening carefully to the final part of the session. Under deep hypnosis, he had taken Laura backward through time to the day several weeks ago when she had first become frightened.

He knew when she had reached it by her sudden rigid posture, the long slim fingers clawing into the arms of her chair.

“Where are you, Laura?” he asked gently.

She only shook her head.

“Where are you? Laura, you don’t have to be afraid. Just tell me where you are?”

Her face grew pale. Her eyebrows drew tightly together. Her hands were shaking, her knees trembling beneath the folds of her loose-fitting paisley cotton skirt. “Hospital,” she whispered.

“You’re in the hospital?”

She nodded stiffly, her arms still gripping the chair.

“When, Laura?”

“June. I went to Julie’s house. We took a day off from work to lay on the beach.”

It didn’t make sense. As far as he knew, no accidents, no emergencies, nothing like that had occurred. “Did Julie take you to the hospital?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“How did you get there?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

This wasn’t going the way he planned. He took another tack. “All right, Laura. You’re in the hospital. Tell me about it. Tell me why you’re afraid.”

She chewed her bottom lip. For the longest time she didn’t speak, just stared straight ahead as if she were there again. “They took off my clothes,” she finally said. “I was naked. It was cold in there…so cold.” She started to shiver.

“Go on,” he softly urged.

“They washed my body with something like alcohol, but it was slimy and it didn’t have much smell. When they washed between my legs, I started to cry.”

Brian stared at his patient in silence, turning over what she had said. “What happened next?” he asked, suddenly not sure he wanted to hear.

“I tried to fight them, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t lift my arms. They bent my knees, pushed up my legs. They shoved something cold and hard up inside me. I tried to scream, but nothing came out.”

Brian’s own hands started to shake. “Go on, Laura.”

“I begged them not to hurt me. ‘Please don’t…please don’t hurt me.’ But they couldn’t hear. They pulled the metal things out from inside me and stuffed something rubbery into my mouth. I could feel it tickling the back of my throat and I started to gag. I was afraid I’d choke if I threw up. I closed my eyes as tight as I could, tried not to think about the thing in my mouth, tried to ignore the crunching sound inside my head when they shoved a little hard thing up my nose.”

Brian rubbed the back of a hand across his lips. “What else do you remember, Laura?”

She didn’t answer. Just sat there shaking.

“Laura? Tell me what else you recall.”

She shook her head. “Nothing else. I don’t remember why I went there. I don’t know how I got home.” She started to cry then, soft little sobs that jabbed at his insides. He knew he should press her, try to discover how this wild delusion had gotten started, but he was fairly certain he knew.

Her medical history said Laura hadn’t been inside a hospital in years, not since she was seventeen years old, pregnant, and unmarried. Her boyfriend had convinced her to have an abortion, but his choice of practitioner wasn’t the greatest. Complications had set in. Fortunately, her sister found out what had happened and had taken her to a reputable doctor, who had seen she got the proper care.

It was all in her medical files.

All but the trauma the incident must have caused.

Brian turned off the tape and leaned back in his chair. Two more days until her next appointment. Another hypnosis session might prove interesting. Then again, it was certain to be hard on her. Perhaps it was too early in the treatment for any more trauma. He would have to give it some thought.

Then again, more time spent thinking about Laura Ferris might be the last thing he ought to do.

Julie checked the time on her Rolex watch. It was only 10:00 a.m. She was feeling pretty good this morning—no headaches for the past two days—and there was a two-hour break in her schedule before her luncheon with Evan Whitelaw and his wife, a meeting to discuss the escrow instructions on the Beverly Hills estate they had just purchased.

Julie smiled to think of the sale she had made. True, the house was bordered by Bel-Air, but it wasn’t technically in Bel-Air, as Jane Whitelaw had insisted. Her smile broadened as she thought of how glad she was she had talked the woman into a quick look at what had turned out to be the Whitelaws’ perfect home.

Heading out of her office, she walked past where Shirl Bingham sat filing her nails at the reception desk.

“If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll be upstairs in the fitness center. I’ll be back before lunch to check my messages.”

Shirl just nodded and continued filing her long red nails. Julie thought of the fit Alex Donovan would have pitched if he had caught her, but company image was hardly a concern his son would have.

Julie walked out the front doors, into a different entrance of the same building, and stepped into the elevator. She got off on the third floor and went into the health club. For a number of people who worked nearby, the place was well maintained and convenient and not too overly large. Julie had been attending aerobics classes with a fair amount of regularity for the past three years.

She went into the locker room, changed into a pair of black shorts and a tank top, tied the laces on her Reeboks, then went into the weight room to warm up on one of the five stationary bikes. She stopped dead in her tracks when she looked over and saw Patrick on the treadmill, his tall frame drenched in sweat.

“My God, will wonders never cease.” She stopped beside the machine, grinning with disbelief.

“Hi,” he simply said. His face glistened with perspiration. A curl of damp black hair clung to his forehead. She had the strangest urge to reach out and brush it back out of the way.

“I didn’t know you were a member here,” she said.

“I wasn’t. Not until a couple of days ago. I thought, since it was so handy, it would be a good way to get in shape.”

Her grin slid away. “Are you sure you’re well enough for this? I thought you were supposed to take it easy.”

For a moment he looked uncomfortable, then he smiled his charming white smile. “I am taking it easy. I’m in bed every night by ten, no smoking, no drugs, no liquor. I’d say that’s about as easy as it gets.”

One of her eyebrows shot up. “In bed by ten? I don’t doubt that. The question is with whom? Let’s see—could it be the lovely Anna? Or are you back with Charlotte? Or maybe by now there’s someone new.”

A flush crept under his tan. Julie couldn’t believe it.

“Suffice it to say, I’m staying out of trouble. I’m getting myself in shape, just like the doctors said.”

She didn’t believe it, of course, or if by some miracle it was true, that it could possibly last. She studied him, struck by a sudden thought. “That wasn’t your car I saw in the parking lot this morning when I got in?”

“I came to work early. I had some business I needed to catch up on.”

Julie fell silent, for the first time allowing herself to really take a look at him. She had never seen Patrick in so few clothes, nothing but a pair of damp, clinging white shorts that hinted at the considerable bulge of his sex, a red tank top, socks, and running shoes. With every stride he made on the treadmill, long corded muscles bunched in his legs. His waist was lean, his shoulders very wide, more thickly muscled than she imagined, and the dark skin across them appeared surprisingly smooth. Curly black chest hair glistened with beads of perspiration above the scooped neck of his tank top.

“I hope you like what you see,” Patrick said softly, his blue eyes suddenly intense, and this time it was Julie’s turn to blush.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just that I-I…that seeing you here was so unexpected.”

“I’ll be through in a few more minutes. Why don’t you finish your workout, and afterward—how about lunch?”

Lunch with Patrick? “I-I’m meeting the Whitelaws, going over their escrow instructions.” Had she heard him right? Was he actually asking her out? He hadn’t done that in years.

“If you can’t go to lunch, what about dinner? We’ll go someplace quiet where we can talk.”

This was crazy. Patrick hated quiet restaurants. He wanted to be where the action was. The hottest see-and-be-seen he could possibly find.

“Talk about what?” she asked dumbly, sure she was missing something. “Is there a problem I don’t know about at work? Is one of my clients upset? The Rabinoff deal had a few shaky moments but I thought they were happy in the end.”

Patrick slowed down, finally stopped jogging altogether, and stepped off the machine. “Nothing’s wrong, Julie.” It was amazing how much taller he seemed when she was wearing flat-heeled shoes. He wiped the sweat from his face with a white cotton towel. “I just wanted some company. I thought you might want some, too.”

“I don’t believe this, Patrick.” Unconsciously, she took a step away. “We decided years ago we’d be far better off as friends. We both know what it is you expect from the women you take out. You also know that’s not what you’ll get from me. I think the best course is the one we’ve been on up till now.”

He studied her for long, quiet moments. She couldn’t ever remember him looking at her quite that way. “I’m asking as a friend, Julie. I don’t expect anything more.”

She felt foolish then. Of course it was friendship he expected. He had half a dozen beautiful women he could call on a moment’s notice. The only reason he had ever wanted her was because she had always said no.

And aside from an unwelcome physical attraction, she certainly didn’t want him.

On the other hand, after the scare he’d had, Patrick might need a friend very badly. Besides, it might be pleasant to spend the evening with a man for a change, instead of a client, Babs, or her sister.

“How about it?” he pressed.

Julie smiled. “I can’t go tonight, but tomorrow night would be fine. I’ve got appointments until eight. After that I’m all yours.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Great. So shall I pick you up at your house or will you still be down at the office?”

“The office. I’ll be there all afternoon. Now I’ve got to run. I’ve missed fifteen minutes of class already. I’ll see you back at work.”

Patrick just nodded. He used the towel around his neck to wipe away more sweat as he watched her walk away.

Julie had the strangest feeling, one that had nagged her off and on since he got out of the hospital. Patrick seemed different lately, in at least a dozen ways. He even looked a little different, more mature somehow, more commanding. And his attitude toward her had somehow changed, though in exactly what way she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps the evening he planned would shed some light on the subject. If it did, maybe she would find some way to help him stay away from booze and drugs. If nothing else, she owed that much to Alex.

Julie decided firmly—she would help Patrick if she could.

Seven

Sitting behind the desk in her office, Julie hung up the phone with a shaky hand and slowly came to her feet. Brian Heraldson, Laura’s psychiatrist, had just called. He said he needed to see her. He said Laura had just left the office, having finished her second hypnosis session. He said it was important that he and Julie speak.

On the surface, that didn’t seem all that ominous. As Laura’s sister, she had offered to help in any way she could, knowing he might want input from the only immediate family Laura had left. Yet there was something in his voice, something urgent, perhaps even fearful, that turned Julie’s stomach upside down.

She pressed the intercom button, told Shirl she’d be out for a while, then left through the rear door leading out to the parking lot. Westwood wasn’t far. In minutes, she was standing in front of the receptionist’s desk, asking the pretty little brunette to tell the doctor she was there.

“He’ll be right with you, Ms. Ferris,” the young woman said, probably a UCLA student doing part-time work, since the campus was just blocks away. The same sort of work Julie had done.

She glanced around the office, liking the soft gray carpet, the muted tones, and the Impressionist paintings on the walls that made the room feel warm and not sterile.

“Hello, Julie.” Dr. Heraldson stood in the open doorway leading into his private suite of rooms. “Please come in.”

She smiled uncertainly as she moved past him, her heart beginning to throb inside her chest. “I came as quickly as I could. Laura’s all right, isn’t she? She was able to drive herself home?”

“Laura’s fine…at least on the surface.” He firmly closed the door. “I’ve asked you here in the hope that you might shed some light on a subject that has me somewhat concerned.” He indicated she should take a seat on the light-gray overstuffed sofa. “I want to play a tape for you. I don’t normally do this and certainly not without the patient’s permission. Laura has given her consent, and I’d like your opinion about what she has said on the tape.”

“Of course. I want to help Laura in any way I can.” She sat down on the couch while the doctor walked to the chair behind his desk. He was a good-looking man, she saw, with his thick brown, slightly too-long hair and neatly trimmed beard. She wondered that she hadn’t noticed that when she had first met him, the day Laura’s sessions had begun, or the second time she had stopped in.

“I’m not going to play it all. Some of it is extremely personal.” He stopped the tape, backed it up a little, ran it forward again, and then pushed the button. “This is the tape I made the first of the week, her first hypnosis session. Here’s the part I wanted you to hear.”

Julie sat unmoving as Laura described the first time she had been afraid. It was the day they had suntanned on the beach. At first it was the same as Julie remembered, then Laura’s story turned different. Laura said that after the beach, she had gone to the hospital, which of course wasn’t the least bit true. Julie’s skin began to crawl as her sister recounted her terrifying experience, describing in vivid detail the humiliating examination she had been subjected to, the way her body had been stripped, washed, and probed.

Unconsciously, Julie clasped her arms across her chest, waiting for the gruesome tale to finish. She jumped when the doctor pressed the stop button, abruptly ending the strained, terror-stricken voice of her sister on the tape.

“It isn’t true, you know,” Julie said softly. “She didn’t go to the hospital. After she left my house, she simply went home. I called her later, so I know she got there safely.”

“I didn’t think this had actually occurred. At least not on that day. There was nothing in her medical files and nothing on the admission forms she filled out when she started treatment.”

“I thought under hypnosis, people were supposed to tell the truth.”

“They tell the truth as they perceive it. I think Laura may have confused another event in her life, perhaps the abortion she went through some years ago. At least that was my feeling until the session we attempted today.”

“She told you about that?”

He nodded.

The abortion wasn’t something Laura liked to discuss. At seventeen, the pregnancy and botched abortion was just another incident in a lifetime of mistakes.

“You said that was your feeling until today.”

“That’s right.”

Julie’s stomach began to churn. “So what…what happened today?”

“I think the best way to tell you is simply to play the tape.”

Julie just nodded. Her insides felt tied in knots. There was something strangely unsettling about what Laura had said, though she knew it wasn’t the truth. Sitting back on the sofa, she concentrated on the soft whir of the recorder, her chest feeling leaden. Dr. Heraldson skipped the first part of the session where he had done the hypnosis and the conversation leading up to the subject he wanted to discuss. He started the tape at the part where he’d asked Laura about her trip to the hospital the day they had gone to the beach, and if since then, she had ever been frightened like that again.

A long nervous pause ensued. Then, “One night I thought I heard them. I thought they were there, outside my bedroom window. I called the police. They searched outside, but no one was there. A few days later, I thought I heard them again. I was so scared…I didn’t know what to do. I called the police again, but they never found any trace of them.”

The doctor’s deep voice came softly over the tape. “Who did you think was out there, Laura?”

“I don’t know. The people from the hospital I guess.”

“Have you seen them again?”

She swallowed so hard Julie could hear it on the tape. “Yes…They came for me at Julie’s. I should have known they would—that’s where they came for me before…there on the beach. I shouldn’t have stayed with Julie.”

Julie sat up straighter on the sofa, her stomach clenching tighter.

“Tell me what happened,” the doctor said.

“I-I heard them outside on the balcony…footsteps…little scratching noises. I knew it was them. Oh, God, I was so frightened. I wanted to hide. I wanted to run. But I knew they would find me wherever I went. It was dark outside. When the lights went off, I wanted to curl up and die. A few minutes later, a bright light filled the room, so strong it hurt my eyes. Then it was dark again.” Laura made a soft choking sound of despair. “That’s when they came into the bedroom.”

There was the sound of the doctor’s chair moving. “Go on, Laura,” he whispered gently, “this is only a memory. You’re distanced from it. The memory can no longer hurt you.”

She seemed to relax at that. “I don’t know how they got in. One minute they were out on the deck, the next they were there, standing all around the bed. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even scream. They stared at me for the longest time…then they carried me away.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “What else do you recall?”

“Nothing until I woke up. I was there…in the hospital. They stripped off my nightgown and washed my body with the same wet slimy stuff they rubbed on me before. They parted my legs and probed inside me. It hurt a little, but mostly I was embarrassed. I don’t think they really meant to hurt me, but I hated them just the same. I hated them for what they were doing. I laid there naked and I prayed they weren’t real, that what was happening was only a nightmare. I prayed that I would wake up, but in my heart I knew I wasn’t dreaming.”

The doctor said nothing.

The tape whirred in the silence of a pause. “There’s something more,” Laura said, “but I-I can’t seem to recall what it is.” She must have bent her head for the sob that slipped from her throat came out muffled and ragged. Then she started crying.