'I'm fine.'
'Too much wine,' Melanie said.
'Not enough.' Pen sat up. 'Is it about time to go?'
'Pretty soon,' Joyce said. 'I'd be glad to do the driving,' she told Bodie.
'Fine.'
***
Joyce slipped the Lincoln Continental into an open space of curb on Pico Boulevard, and they climbed out.
Pen, realizing they wouldn't have to walk across the road, thought about the car that had come so close to running her down that morning. A Porsche. A sports car.
A sports car had hit Dad.
The same one that almost got me?
That's crazy,
she told herself.
Just a coincidence. Don't try to make something out of it.
The night air chilled the material of her blouse. Shivering, she folded her arms across her chest and clamped her teeth together.
Melanie, ahead of her, walked stiffly with her shoulders hunched, but she was pressed against Bodie's side and his arm was around her back. That had to help.
The warmth of the hospital lobby felt good.
They entered an elevator. Bodie pushed the button for Dad's floor. The piped-in music was an orchestral version of 'Bridge Over Troubled Water'. Pen wondered if the tune had been selected for purposes of irony.
When they left the elevator, Joyce led the way to the nurses' station. A nurse guided them down the corridor and opened the door to Dad's room.
He wasn't awake, sitting up, breathing for himself.
He looked the same.
He looked dead.
Pen's eyes darted to the cardiac monitor. The line on the screen jigged with each heartbeat. Every jump of the line was accompanied by a beep.
Joyce went to the bedside and squeezed his hand.
The rhythm of his heart didn't change.
He has no idea we're even here,
Pen thought.
'It's Joyce. Can you hear me? Can you understand me?' Joyce waited as if for a reply. 'Your daughters are here. Melanie came all the way from Phoenix to be with you. We're all pulling for you, Whit. You're going to be all right. You'll be just fine.' She was silent for a little while. Then she looked around at the others. 'Could I be alone with him for a few minutes?'
They went out to the hallway. Pen closed the door.
'Why doesn't she want us in there?' Melanie whispered.
'She's his wife,' Pen said. 'She wants a little privacy with him.'
'He's in a coma.'
'A little privacy with a gal like Joyce might pull him out of it,' Bodie suggested.
Melanie glared at him.
'Sorry,' he muttered. 'My big mouth.'
'Don't worry about it,' Pen said, more to her sister than to Bodie.
'I wonder what she is doing in there.'
'Talking to him, I should imagine,' Pen said. 'About things that don't concern you and me.'
'Maybe she's telling him to go ahead and die.' Melanie, so prim and Victorian in her choker and frilly white blouse and black skirt, had spoken the unthinkable and was staring at Pen as if she thought Pen was dimwitted for not realizing the obvious.
'My God, Mel,' she muttered.
'If Dad dies, she gets Harrison, the insurance, the inheritance…'
'Have you lost your mind?'
'She might even pull the plug on him.'
'Alarms would go off,' Bodie whispered. He was frowning, shaking his head. 'I think… the machines are tied in to the nurses' station. If anything like that happened…'
'She wouldn't do that,' Pen said.
'Oh, no?'
'Melanie, Jesus.'
Melanie swung open the door.
Gazing past her shoulder, Pen saw Joyce turn her head in surprise. She was bent over the bed, straightening a blanket at Dad's shoulders. She pressed a hand to her chest and smiled nervously. 'You startled me.'
'Sorry,' Pen said. 'Is everything all right?'
'Fine. I was about to ask you back in.'
They entered the room.
'Did he… make any kind of response?'
'I'm afraid not.'
Pen followed Melanie closer to the bed and bumped her when she jerked to a rigid stop.
Melanie began to groan.
Joyce looked puzzled, then alarmed.
Melanie's back arched and she suddenly quaked. She pressed her fists to the sides of her head.
'What's she doing?' Joyce blurted. 'My God!'
Pen's mind seemed to freeze as she stood at the back of her twitching, moaning sister.
'Don't worry,' Bodie said. He sounded worried. 'It's like last…'
Melanie lurched against Pen. Bodie stopped her from falling. With Bodie at her back, Pen braced herself up and wrapped her arms around Melanie's chest. The girl's whole body jumped with spastic shudders. Pen kept her face turned away to avoid the thrashing head.
'You got her?' Bodie gasped.
'Yeah.'
'You got her? Don't let her fall.'
'Should I get help?' Joyce asked.
'No. It'll be okay.'
'What's wrong with her?'
Melanie's head snapped back, striking Pen's jaw just below the ear. The pain was a hot jolt. She squeezed her eyes shut, but didn't let go of Melanie.
'You okay?' Bodie asked.
Pen heard him through a ringing in her ear.
'Ease her down. Try to ease her down.'
She felt Bodie's hands on her sides, pushing at her ribcage to steady her as she sank to a crouch. The strain lessened when Melanie's rump met the floor.
Abruptly, her body went limp. Her head sagged forward. She took deep breaths.
'Are you okay?' Pen asked.
The head bobbed slightly.
Bodie's hands went away from Pen. He stepped to the front and knelt beside Melanie. 'How you doing?' he asked in a gentle voice.
'Okay, I guess.'
'Another vision?'
'I… I think so.'
He helped her up. Pen, rising to her feet, rubbed her sore jaw. She stretched her mouth open wide. It made her ear hurt.
'What was it?' Bodie asked.
'I don't know.'
He stroked Melanie's cheeks.
'I can't remember. Just that it was awful. But I lost it. Like sometimes when you wake up from a nightmare and it's gone.'
'Is she all right now?' Joyce asked.
It struck Pen as interesting that the question wasn't directed to Melanie - as if a more reliable opinion were required.
Nodding, Bodie put his arms around her. She clung to him, face pressed to the side of his neck. One of Bodie's hands was motionless at the center of her back. The other patted her gently.
Pen watched.
She worked her jaw from side to side.
Then she saw her father on the bed, oblivious to it all. She went to him.
'I'm sorry I made such a scene,' Melanie said when they were back in the car.
'Are you certain you're all right?' Joyce asked.
'Yeah.'
'Do those things happen often?'
'No. Hardly ever.'
'It sure scared the hell out of me.'
'I'm sorry.'
'As long as you're all right.' Joyce pulled away from the curb. She glanced toward Pen. 'Where to? Would you like to come back with us, or…?'
'We're not far from my apartment.'
'You're welcome to spend the night at the house.'
'Why don't you?' Bodie suggested from the back seat.
'Pen got a couple of obscene phone calls last night,' Melanie explained. 'She's pretty frightened.'
'I'm not frightened,' Pen insisted, wishing Melanie had kept quiet about the situation. It was personal. Joyce didn't need to know about it. 'They made me a little nervous,' she said, 'but I'm okay now.'
Am I?
she wondered.
She didn't look forward to being alone in the apartment.
On the other hand, getting away by herself might be a relief.
A long, hot bath. Sleep in her own bed.
How'd you like me to fuck your brains out?
She felt a hot rush of dread.
It won't get any better,
she told herself,
by staying somewhere else. It might even get worse.
'Why don't you go ahead and take me to my apartment?' she said.
'Are you sure?'
'It was just a voice on a phone. I can't let a little thing like that get to me.'
'Obscene phone calls,' Melanie said. 'Everybody gets them. I've had a few.'
'Me, too,' Joyce said.
'What did you do?' Melanie asked her.
'I just hung up, but I'll admit I was pretty edgy for a while.'
'They never do anything but call,' Melanie went on. 'I think they have to get their jollies over the phone because they're afraid of women. The phone is safe and anonymous. They never actually pay a visit.'
'I wouldn't say never,' Bodie told them. 'There was a story in the news a couple of months ago about a woman who was getting calls like that. The day after she got an unlisted number, she was raped and murdered. Apparently, changing number made the guy feel rejected.'
'Oh, thank you very much, Bodie,' Pen said. 'That's just what I wanted to hear.'
'I think you have a right to be worried, that's all. I didn't like the sound of that guy.'
'They all sound like that,' Melanie said.
'The calls were recorded on my answering machine,' Pen explained to Joyce.
'Whit won't let me get one of those things.'
'I've heard him on the subject,' Pen said. 'Dad likes answering machines about as much as he likes carhops.'
Joyce turned off Pico and headed up the sidestreet toward Pen's apartment. 'You're sure you wouldn't rather stay with us?' She sounded as if she really wanted Pen to join them for the night - maybe to keep an eye on Melanie in case of another 'vision'.
'No,' she said. 'I'll be okay. Maybe I'll come by in the morning, though.'
'Do,' Joyce urged her. 'Come early, and we'll all have a nice breakfast together.'
'You've got a deal.'
***
Joyce eased the Lincoln to a stop across from Pen's apartment building. Pen swung her door open. For a moment, she was ready to back down.
'See you in the morning,' Melanie said.
'Right. See you then.' She started to step out.
'I'll go up with you,' Bodie said, 'and check the place out.'
She felt a surge of relief. 'Thank you. I'd like that.'
'I'll go, too,' Melanie said.
Outside the car, she put herself between Pen and Bodie, and latched onto his hand.
They walked to the iron gate, and Bodie swung it open. Pen went through first. She heard their footsteps close behind her as she cut across the courtyard toward the stairway. Party sounds of music, loud voices and laughter came from one of the apartments on the second floor. Though the pool lights were off, she spotted a couple in the whirlpool at the far end. She couldn't see who they were. She probably, in fact, wouldn't have recognized them even in light. Most of the other tenants were strangers to her. She preferred it that way.
Melanie and Bodie followed her up the stairs and along the balcony to her door. While she hunted for her keys, they caught up.
'A lot of activity around here,' Melanie said.
'Saturday night.'
'Does that guy, Manny, still live here?' Melanie asked.
'Oh yes.'
She pushed her key into the lock, twisted it, and opened the door. Reaching inside, she flicked a light switch.
The lamp by the couch came on.
On the carpet at her feet lay a square, white envelope - the kind that birthday cards came in. She crouched over it. There was no stamp, no address. P. CONWAY was written in large, crooked letters.
Picking up the envelope, she could feel that it was empty.
'Someone must've slipped it under my door,' she muttered.
'I don't like this,' Bodie said.
She turned the envelope over, and felt her legs go weak as she read its scribbled message:
I CAME AND YOU WEREN'T HOME. TOO BAD. NEXT TIME I'LL COME WHEN YOU ARE. SEE YOU SOON.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
'Let me see.'
Pen handed the envelope to Bodie. He held it out to the side so that Melanie could read it, too.
'I guess you'd better come back with us,' Melanie said.
'Yeah,' Pen muttered. 'Let me get a few things.'
They waited in the living room.
'This is starting to look serious,' Melanie said. 'I mean, I never thought he might come after her.'
'It doesn't surprise me much,' Bodie said. 'The way that guy sounded on the phone… he sounded like he meant it.'
'Maybe she'd better go to the police.'
'Yeah.'
Melanie took the envelope from him and studied both sides. She pursed it open to make sure it was empty. Turning around, she stared at the place on the carpet where Pen had found it. Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath. She sighed the breath out. Her head lowered, and she shook it slowly from side to side. The guy was actually here,' she said in a weary voice. 'Lucky thing Pen wasn't.'
'I feel like such a jerk.'