David Morrell - Double Image

“I don’t think I could bear to look at more pictures of her.”

“It’s not what you think,” Coltrane said. “These are different. Trust me. You’ll understand what I mean when you look at them.”

“Trust you,” Jennifer said hollowly.

COLTRANE ENTERED THE DARKROOM AHEAD OF JENNIFER. Before she could see the print of Tash in the diver’s suit, he used tongs to turn the print upside down in the washing tray. He hoped that she hadn’t noticed what he was doing, that her attention was directed toward where he pointed, toward prints that were attached by clamps to a nylon cord, drying.

He turned on the overhead lights.

“Crowd scenes?” Jennifer sounded puzzled.

“Those were taken at the Beverly Center.”

“But…” Jennifer turned to him, more confused. “Why would you take them? So many . The compositions are clumsy. Chaotic.”

“I wasn’t trying for an aesthetic arrangement. I just shot what I saw.”

“Is this some new direction you’re taking? I hope not. These can’t compare with the photographs you took after you met Packard, before all the trouble started.”

“It’s a different kind of project.”

“Different?” Jennifer looked back at the enlargements, walking along, paying closer attention. “Oh.” She had finally seen Tash among the chaos. “Even in a crowd, she stands out.” Jennifer sounded puzzled. “But she doesn’t seem aware she’s being photographed. It’s almost as if…” Frowning, she faced him again. “You were following her?”

“Actually, I’ve been ahead of her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s going to take awhile to explain.”

When he finished, Jennifer shook her head in dismay. “Ilkovic wasn’t enough for you? You have to get yourself involved in a similar situation?”

“It’s not the same. This time, I’m not the one being stalked.”

“Unless you count Nolan. The way you describe him, he’s been dealing with stalkers so long that he became one.”

“Nolan will calm down once Tash makes him understand there’s nothing between them.”

“But why did he think there was something between them in the first place?”

“I don’t know yet,” Coltrane said. “Tash told me she’s going to explain.”

Jennifer took one more look at the photographs, then another look at him. “I give up. I won’t waste any more of your time.”

“We’ve been through a lot together. I want to make sure everything’s right between us.”

“That isn’t going to happen, Mitch. Just because I want some closure on this, that doesn’t mean everything’s going to be right between us. And don’t you dare say ‘I hope we can still be friends.’”

Coltrane nodded.

“She owns more stores in San Francisco and San Diego?” Jennifer said. “And that doesn’t count the other investments she didn’t specify. She’s not only rich – she’s drop-dead gorgeous? You certainly got lucky.”

Coltrane shrugged, awkward.

“How did she get the money?”

“I don’t know. Her mother died a couple of years ago. Maybe it was an inheritance.”

“How did her mother get so much money?”

“I have no idea,” Coltrane said. “I didn’t feel it was any of my business.”

“Well, the two of you are certainly going to have a lot to talk about. I won’t say I hope it works out for you, because that’s not the way I feel.” Jennifer hesitated, mustering the strength to continue. “But I will say this – I hope you don’t get hurt.” She blinked, unsettled.

“Jennifer…”

“I’d better go home.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

They walked upstairs to the front door.

“Good-bye.”

“I’m sorry,” Coltrane said.

“Not as much as I am.” Jennifer wiped away another tear and stepped outside. It took her two tries to tell him, “As soon as the special edition of the magazine is ready, you’ll get the first copy. They really are great photographs, Mitch.” Her voice broke. “Regardless of everything that’s happened, I’m proud that I was in your life when you took them.”

Coltrane’s throat felt squeezed.

Lingering in the open doorway, he watched her walk to the curb and get into her car. As on the previous night, she didn’t look back when she drove away. Only after her headlights started to climb the hill away from his house did he move to step back into the house.

But he stopped himself, noticing her headlights pass a car parked near the murky crest.

IT WAS HARD TO TELL IN THE NIGHT AND AT A DISTANCE, but the vehicle might have been an Explorer, the kind of car Nolan drove. Someone was behind the steering wheel, looking in Coltrane’s direction. Jennifer’s headlights disappeared over the hill. The car became barely visible.

Nolan? Coltrane’s stomach muscles were still sore from where he had been punched. Angry, he wanted to storm up the hill and find out if that was Nolan watching the house. But his fury was displaced by a despondency about Jennifer that made him too weary for a confrontation. He wished that there had been another way. He had never wanted to hurt her. I bet that’s something else Jennifer would have been annoyed to hear me tell her, he thought. He stepped back into the house and locked the door. If it was Nolan out there, he was going to have a long, wasted night.

Mouth dry, Coltrane glanced at his watch, realizing that the time was almost midnight. Tash should have been home by now. She should have called by now.

Unless she was waiting to contact Nolan first and Nolan wasn’t home.

Unless that was in fact Nolan in the car out there.

Get back to work, he told himself. It’ll help distract you.

Descending to the darkroom, he shut off the overhead lights, switched on the dim amber safelight, and began making more prints from the negatives he had prepared. Then he remembered the print that he had turned upside down in the washing tray, took it out of the water, and was stunned anew by the beauty of Tash in her diving suit as she emerged from the ocean. Her eyes seemed to look directly into his.

What’s happening to me? he thought. How could someone I’ve known since only yesterday make me feel this way?

He had never believed that love at first sight was possible. But then it hadn’t been at first sight, had it? he reminded himself. He had seen Tash’s face long before he had met her.

He remembered having read about the theory of soul mates – that souls who had been devoted to each other in a former life could never be fulfilled unless they found each other in a later life. Perhaps that explained the irresistible attraction that had overcome him. It was as if he had recognized Rebecca Chance the first time he had seen her photograph. It was as if he had been in love with her in another time and now had the chance to be in love with her again – with Tash.

Whatever you’re feeling, it doesn’t need an explanation, he told himself. You’ll ruin it.

So far he had made prints only for the shots he had taken at the stores in the Beverly Center, Santa Monica, and Westwood. He still had to deal with the images of the crowd near the store in the South Coast Plaza. Uneasy that Tash hadn’t called, beginning to worry that something had happened to her, he forced himself to go to the enlarger and put one of the processed negatives into the negative holder. After determining the correct focus, he put a sheet of eight-by-ten-inch printing paper into the easel, set the timer, and turned on the enlarger lamp, which was positioned above the negative and cast a beam through it, projecting the negative’s image down through a magnifying lens and onto the paper.