Catherine Coulter - The Cove

"When I answered it wasn't a woman on the phone. It was a man pretending to be my father." It had been her father. She knew it, knew it deep down. She was so scared she wondered if a person could die of just being scared, nothing else, just being scared.

"Baby," Amabel said, rising, "this is all very confusing. I think you and I should talk about this later."

Sally turned without another word and walked slowly upstairs. She was leaving now. She didn't care if she had to walk and hitchhike. She knew all the stories about the dangers of a woman alone, but they didn't come close to the danger she felt bearing down on her now. How many people knew she was here? The man pretending to be her father, and now a woman? She thought of that nilrse. She'd hated that nurse so much. Sally couldn't even remember her name now. She didn't want to. Could it have been that nurse?

She stuffed her clothes in her duffel bag and then realized she had to wait. She didn't want to fight with Amabel. She heard Amabel lock up the cottage. She heard her walk up the stairs, her step brisk and solid. Sally got quickly into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

"Sally?"

"Yes, Amabel. Oh, goodness, I was nearly asleep. Good night."

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"Yes, good night, baby. Sleep well."

"All right."

"Sally, about that phone call-"

She waited, not saying a word.

"Martha could have been mistaken. It's quite possible. Her hearing isn't all that good anymore. She's getting old. It could even have been a man disguising his voice like a woman's just in case you didn't answer the phone. I can't imagine that it could have been Thelma. Baby, nobody knows who you are, nobody."

Amabel paused. Sally could see her silhouetted in the doorway from the dim light in the corridor. "You know, baby, you've been through a lot, too much. You're frightened. I would be too. Your mind can do funny things to you when you're frightened. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, I understand that, Amabel." She wasn't about to tell Amabel that Thelma knew who she was.

"Good. You try to sleep, baby." She didn't come in to kiss her good night, for which Sally was grateful.

She lay there, waiting, waiting.

Finally, she slipped out of bed, pulled on her sneakers, picked up her duffel bag, and tiptoed to the window. It slid up easily. She poked her head out and scanned the ground as she'd done earlier. This was the way out. It wasn't far to the ground, and she knew there was no way she could get down those stairs without Amabel hearing her.

No, she'd be just fine. She climbed out the window and sat on the narrow ledge. She dropped the duffel bag and watched it bounce off the squat, thick bushes below. She drew a deep breath and jumped.

She landed on James Quinlan.

They both went down, James rolling, holding her tight against him.

When they came to a stop, Sally reared up on her hands and stared down at him. There was a half moon, more than enough light to see his face clearly.

"What are you doing here?"

"I knew you'd run after that telephone call."

She rolled off him and rose, only to collapse again. She'd sprained her damned ankle. She cursed.

He laughed. "That's not good enough for a girl who didn't go to finishing school in Switzerland. Don't you know some down and dirty street curses?"

"Go to hell. I sprained my damned ankle and it's all your fault. Why couldn't you just mind your own damned business?"

"I didn't want you out on the road hitchhiking with some lowlife who could rape you and cut your throat."

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"I thought of that. I'd rather take that risk than stay here. He knows I'm here, James, you know that. I can't just stay here and wait for him to come and take me. That's what he said. He said soon he'd be here for me."

"I was reading a newspaper when Martha came in all worried and told Thelma about a woman calling you, a woman you said wasn't a woman but your father. She said you were really distressed. She didn't understand why you'd be so upset to hear from your father. I knew you'd probably try to run, that's why I'm here, having you crush me into the ground."

She sat there on the ground next to him, rubbing her ankle, just shaking her head. "I'm not crazy."

"I know that," he said patiently. "There's an explanation. That's why you're not going to run away. Now that's crazy."

She came up on her knees, leaning toward him, her hands grasping his jacket lapels. "Listen to me, James. It was my father. No fake, no imitation. It was my father. Amabel said it could have been a man disguising his voice

as a woman's if I hadn't been the one to answer the phone. Then she turned around and told me how much strain I'd been under. In other words, I'm crazy."

He took her hands in his, just held them, saying nothing. Then he spoke. "As I said, there's always an explanation. It probably was a man. We'll find out. If it wasn't, if it truly was a woman who asked for you, then we'll deal with that too. Trust me, Sally."

She sat back. Her ankle had stopped throbbing. Maybe it wasn't sprained after all.

"Tell me something."

"Yes?"

"Do you think someone could be trying to gaslight you?"

What did he know? She searched his face for the lie, for knowledge, but saw none of it.

"Is it possible? Could someone be trying to make you crazy? Make you doubt your sanity?"

She looked down at her clasped hands, at her fingernails. She realized that she hadn't chewed her nails since she'd been in The Cove. No, since she'd met him. They didn't look so ragged. She said finally, not looking at him, because it was awful, what she was, what she had been, perhaps what she still was today, right now. "Why?"

"I'd have to say that someone's afraid of you, afraid of what you might possibly know. This someone wants to eliminate you from the game, so to speak." He paused, looking toward the ocean, fancying he could hear the crashing waves, but he couldn't, Amabel's cottage was just a bit too far for that. "The question is why this someone would go this route. You're about the sanest person I know, Sally. Who could possibly think he could make you believe you were nuts?"

She loved him for that. Loved him without reservation, without any question. She gave him a big grin. It came from the deepest part of her, a place that had been empty for so long she'd forgotten that it was Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

possible to feel this good, this confident in herself, and in someone else.

"I was nuts," she said, still grinning, feeling the incredible relief of telling someone the truth, of telling him.

"At least that's what they wanted everyone to believe. They kept me drugged up for six months until I finally got it together enough to hide the medication under my tongue and not swallow it. The nurse always forced my mouth open and ran her fingers all inside to make sure I'd taken the pills. I don't know how I managed to keep the pill hidden, but I did. I did it for two days, until I was together enough. Then I escaped. And then I got the ring off my finger and threw it in a ditch."

He knew she'd been in a sanitarium, a very expensive posh little resort sanitarium in Maryland. All very private. But this? She'd been a prisoner? Drugged to her gills?

He looked at her for a long time. Her smile faltered. He just shook his head at her, cupped her face in his hand, and said, "How would you like to come back to Thelma's place and share my tower room with me? I'll take the sofa and you can have the bed. I won't make any moves on you, I swear. We can't just sit here for the rest of the night. It's damp and I don't want either of us to get sick."