Читаем The Lake полностью

Her warm wet skin, hit by the breeze, turned achingly cold from shoulders to waist. She started to shake. Gritted her teeth. Crossed her arms over her breasts. Drops of water rolled down her back and sides.

The shock treatment did its trick, forcing her mind into the present.

The memories of that time didn’t come often, but when they did they could tear her apart if she let them. Fortunately, there were the tricks. She had taught herself plenty of ways to stop the assault before it went too far. This was a new one, and hurt less than punching the nearest wall or digging fingernails into her leg.

If she relaxed into the warmth, however, the memories would start again. Once that terrible door in her mind was open, it stayed that way for a while. The thoughts had to keep busy with other matters.

She started to sing “Waltzing Matilda.” She sang it quietly in a shaky voice as she climbed from the tub, toweled herself dry, and put on her robe. She kept on singing it while she turned off the bubbles and heater.

In the kitchen, she looked at the clock.

Eleven-fifteen.

She wished Deana were here.

Probably parked somewhere—maybe nearby. If they left the movies early, though, they’d be careful not to return too early and blow their cover.

Leigh smiled.

The kid was no dummy.

Hope she’s smart enough to use something. If she had taken care of that little matter, she had kept it to herself.

Don’t depend on the guy, for godsake.

Maybe I should have another talk with her.

Hell, if she hasn’t gotten the message by now, it’s probably too late.

In her bedroom, Leigh took off her robe. She put on a light, silken nightgown.

From the way Deana and Allan acted around each other, Leigh was pretty sure they had already made love. The idea of that, shocking at first, no longer bothered her. Hell, the girl was eighteen. What kind of girl hasn’t done it by eighteen? And Allan seemed like a good kid.

Just don’t knock her up, that’s all I ask.

Save the bambinos for after college.

In the den, she inserted a tape of The Way We Were into her VCR. Before turning it on, she got herself a glass of wine from the kitchen. Then she started the television and sat on the sofa.

When her glass was empty, she stretched out. A pillow propping up her head, she watched the movie. She had seen it many times. The hot tub, followed by the wine, had left her feeling languorous. After a while, she let her eyes drift shut.

The jangle of the telephone startled her awake. Thrusting herself up, she grabbed the phone off the lamp table. “Hello?”

Deana.

It wasn’t Deana.

“Leigh. It’s Dad. ’Fraid we’ll have to call off that date next Saturday, hon. Had a message to say your aunt Abby had a heart attack. She’s in intensive care. So Mom and I are catching a flight to Boulder just as soon as we can.”

“Oh, Dad…”

“It’s okay, Leigh. Don’t you worry none about your aunt Abby. She’s in safe hands, and we’ll be looking after her when she comes out of the hospital. Sorry to spring this on you, honey—after such a wonderful evening an’ all. We both enjoyed it so much. Now this. Matter of fact, your Mom’s packing as we speak, so…”

“Sure, Dad. Have a safe flight. And tell Aunt Abby she has our love.”

“Speaking of which…Young Deana, has she—”

“Deana’s okay, Dad. Tucked up in bed right now…”

A white lie; reasonable at a time like this. Can’t have Mom and Dad worried about Deana. ’Sides, she’s gonna show up any minute now…

“She shouldn’t worry you like this, Leigh. Get to grips with the situation before…”

“Before she ends up like I did at her age?”

“You know what I mean, young lady. Now, sounds like my presence is required elsewhere…”

“Okay, Dad. Safe journey. Love to Mom.”

“Sure. Catch up with you later, honey.”

Leigh’s stomach began to churn. Something was not quite right about tonight; she was sure of it. And it wasn’t only the news about Aunt Abby, either. Put it down to Deana, she told herself.

For godsake, Deana. Where are you?

The phone jangled again. Leigh caught a ragged breath.

Deana. Something’s wrong…

She snatched up the phone again.

A man’s voice said, “I’d like to speak to Leigh West.”

“This is Leigh West.” Her heart pumped hard. She felt dizzy.

“This is Detective Harrison of the Mill Valley Police Department. I’m calling about your daughter…”

FIVE

Glancing over her shoulder as she made her break for the woods, Deana saw him leap from the car. He was tall and cadaverous, with strangely long arms. He loped after her, waving a meat cleaver overhead. He was dressed all in white. He wore a chef’s cap that wobbled and flopped as he ran.

Whirling away from him, Deana dashed onto the path. She had a good head start. She was in good shape from running every day before school. If he wasn’t fast enough to overtake her quickly, she might get away.

I will get away, she thought. I have to.