Ask a shadow to dance, p.10
Ask a Shadow to Dance, page 10
“I have something to ask of you. You won’t like it.”
“What?”
“Give Andrew another chance, just as I am prepared to do.”
Portia’s jaw tightened. “Never.”
“I know how you’re feeling now, but—”
Aunt Portia raised her chin defiantly. “Lisette, listen to what you are saying. That—bastard—struck you, then manhandled you. Your arms are no doubt black and blue. If he’s capable of doing this to you in front of total strangers, try to imagine what he might do to you in private.”
Lisette agreed completely, knowing what Andrew was capable of doing in private, but they had to proceed carefully if they were to arrange the future to best advantage.
“I shall make it clear to Mr. Westmoreland that any violent action on his part toward me, or any member of my family, will be met with the strongest reprisal. I do not think he will dare to raise a hand to me again. The lieutenant was quite specific.”
She couldn’t depend on Andrew’s eloquent apology to represent anything but his own selfish interests. Andrew knew his acceptance into the Morgan family would never take place if he didn’t placate Lisette. And she knew in her heart that avarice and greed and desperation had prompted Andrew’s pretty words today. Somehow she would have to use that knowledge against him. Otherwise they would never be allowed to live their lives the way they chose—without fear.
David’s face caressed her mind like a warm breeze. David would never strike her. She had no real basis for that knowledge, yet it was as secure as Aunt Portia’s love. Something about David Stewart was different from any man she’d ever known. And his confession he was willing to take her anywhere she’d like to go … and had been so many places himself …
“I think I’ll go upstairs to rest now. Aunt Portia, could you bring some ice for my bruises?”
“Ice?”
“Doctor Stewart prescribed it for my face. It should work as well on my arms.”
“Of course, child. I’ll be there in two shakes. You just rest.”
Lisette gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I know this seems an odd way to proceed, but I hope you’ll trust me. I have a plan to hopefully rid us of Andrew Westmoreland forever.”
Lisette went upstairs to her room and removed her dress. As feared, her arms were dark with bruising, tender to the touch.
Aunt Portia arrived soon with a clean cloth filled with splintered ice from one of the blocks in the icehouse. Lisette’s plan was forming, bit by bit.
“Aunt Portia, I have to see Doctor Stewart again.”
“By all means, we’ll see the doctor.”
Lisette sat on the edge of the bed while Portia pressed the cool cloth bundle against one arm, then the other. The ice soothed some of the pain away.
She didn’t tell her that seeing Dr. Stewart actually had nothing to do with the bruises, although she suspected David would bristle and want to smash Andrew for inflicting another injury on her. The thought of David coming to her defense, offering protection, made her strangely warm. No, this visit would be strictly social. More than anything she wanted to hear all about the places David had been and what he’d seen of the world. And she wanted to ask if he still would be willing to take her anywhere she wanted to go. Did his offer include Aunt Portia and her father? David was not the type person to turn them away.
“Aunt Portia, I think everything might just work out.”
“I hope so, child. I can’t bear to see you unhappy.”
“I know. Now, listen carefully. I’m going to need your help if I’m to see Dr. Stewart again soon.”
Chapter Seven
“Damn it, Greg, be careful!”
Greg Chandler stopped wrapping David’s ankle and grinned. “Now, now, Doctor. Your impatient side is showing.”
He gritted his teeth. Not one of these people had the slightest idea of what had happened. “All right, I’ll try to be still. But you’re wrapping it too tight. It hurts, damn it!”
“That’s because it’s badly bruised. Another round. Lana, hand me that tape, please.”
“Certainly, Doctor.” Her smile would’ve brightened the lowest dungeon. If the lights in the dome of the pyramid ever went out, they could hire Lana to fill in.
It made David want to—He kept his mouth shut. If he could just get out of here, there might be a chance to find Lisette. He’d actually been there—in the nineteenth century—along with that bastard, Westmoreland. Just thinking about the way he’d dragged Lisette from the hotel made him want to smash something.
Greg finally finished. The bandaging job looked like a picture from a first aid text. “Stay off of it for at least a week. It isn’t sprained, but you could injure it further.”
As if David didn’t know how to take care of a bruised ankle. Stay off it a week? Until tomorrow, maybe. He let it go, kept his mouth shut, because Lana was still right there, pride radiating from her, along with her perfume, which, for David’s taste, was too brash.
Lisette’s perfume had been much more feminine and subtle. Exactly the right fragrance to focus his thoughts on one thing and one thing only. Of course, the atmosphere wasn’t exactly conducive to such thoughts. And he hadn’t been there long enough to do anything about turning those thoughts into reality.
“David?”
They stared at him. He must have missed something, or said something aloud he didn’t mean to say. “What is it?”
“Joe will drive you home.”
At least he hadn’t embarrassed himself by saying aloud what he’d been thinking. “No! I have to go back to the Peabody. Hasn’t anyone heard what I said?”
“We heard, Bro. Come on. We’ll talk about it in the car.”
Joe offered a hand, but David didn’t accept. At the moment he was too pig-headed.
“Okay, show us how big and strong and stoic you are.”
“Very funny.” The first step on the ankle was murder. The second was intolerable. He’d have to use those damn crutches—at least for the rest of the day. An hour in the Jacuzzi would fix that ankle. Until then? He hated worse than anything having to admit he was wrong, but under the circumstances … “I give up. Hand me those damn things.”
Lana did so without commenting, giving Greg another smile.
“I’ll take care of everything here at the office, David,” Greg promised. “No need for you to even come in for at least a week.”
“A week! Even if it were broken, I wouldn’t need a week to—” Wait a minute. A week without clinic or hospital duties would give him a week to find Lisette. “You know, Greg, I think you’re right. Sorry if I gave you a hard time. I’m not used to being the patient.”
Greg laughed. “Doctors make the worst patients of all. Relax a little. Take it easy.”
David did his best to smile, crammed the crutches under his arms and swung out of the examination room. “Come on, Joe. I’m not sure how crutches and car doors mix.” He also wasn’t sure how much longer he could perpetuate this charade.
Joe caught him at the front door, opened it, let him go through, then hurried to open the car door too. They stashed the crutches in the back seat.
Joe backed out of the parking space. “I know. The Peabody. You can stay in the car. I’ll see if she’s there.”
“Won’t work, Joe. If I’m not there, she’s not there.”
“I don’t get it.” He pulled out into traffic, headed for downtown.
David wasn’t sure he got it either. “I just know, as odd as it sounds, when Lisette and I are in the same place, we’re both there. When we aren’t, we aren’t.”
“Run that by me again.”
“Did you see her today in the lobby?”
“Not one glimpse.”
“And I disappeared the minute I saw her—the minute she got to the fountain—in her time.”
“You still believe you went back to another time?”
“Exactly what year, I can’t say for sure. But Lisette lived in Memphis in the early eighteen hundreds. She and her father disappeared on the Cajun Star November twenty-first, eighteen eighty-five. That would mean when I saw her today it had to be before that. How much, I don’t know.” He twisted in the seat to face Joe. “Don’t you see? She’s going to get on that boat and sail down the Mississippi to who knows what. If I can just keep her from getting on that boat—”
“Then what?”
David didn’t have an answer.
“Then you’ll stay there with her? Or bring her back here with you? What if she doesn’t want to skip a hundred plus years into the future? What if it’s possible for you to come back, but not for you to bring her with you? Are you willing to live in eighteen eighty-five? How would you make a living?”
“I’m a doctor, Joe, remember?”
“A doctor used to prescribing medicines that didn’t exist then. What would you do when someone came in with something incurable—which is curable now? Pneumonia? Small pox? Could you stand it, knowing you could save that person if you only had one of our pharmacies on the corner?”
David thought about it. Really thought about it. Joe pulled into the parking area across the street, just down from the Peabody, and turned off the motor.
“I don’t know how I’d feel,” David admitted finally. “I know I have to find Lisette. Any other decisions will have to be made afterward. This whole deal sounds like something out of a science fiction novel, but I can’t justify what I’ve seen any other way. How do you explain the ducks?”
“You mean no ducks in the fountain when Lisette was there?”
“Exactly. The ducks weren’t there until hunting decoys—live ducks—were put in the fountain in the nineteen thirties. Then there’s the question of my disappearing in front of your eyes. Explain that for me. And what about the shops? No gift shops, no Peabody ducks in the windows, no T-shirts.”
Joe scratched his head. “I can’t. If I hadn’t seen it—or not seen it—then I’d probably be checking you into the psych ward.”
“Exactly. Let’s go inside. If she isn’t still at the Peabody in whatever year that was, then I can’t go to her year and she can’t cross over to ours, but I have to try.”
Joe’s grin spread until his teeth gleamed and he beamed with an expression David knew all too well. Adventure brewing. “Let’s do it!”
“Right.” David went first to the main desk, clumsy on the damn crutches, and apologized to the manager. Stiff and formal at first, he softened more and more as David talked.
“I’m sorry about your injury, Dr. Stewart,” he said finally. “Are you planning another swim in the fountain?”
David had to grin at that. “Absolutely not. I just want to wait here a few minutes for a friend.”
The manager bowed his head slightly. “Certainly. Enjoy your stay at the Peabody.”
“Thanks.” He spotted Joe by the fountain, watching the ducks, and joined him.
Joe grinned nervously. “Gives me the creeps when I think about your bleeping out of the picture. You see that sort of thing on television all the time, but when it happened here I flipped out. My eyes were probably as big as saucers—flying saucers. If one of those babies had landed in the fountain instead of you, I don’t think my reaction would have been much different.”
They stayed half an hour, sipping a drink, Joe wandering to the entrances and back a dozen times, examining every person who came through the lobby. David knew it was a long shot to expect Lisette to reappear. Westmoreland would never let her come back if he could help it. He might even lock her up. David clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. How could he make good on his promise not to let her be hurt again if he couldn’t get into the same century with her? He’d have to find another way. Waiting here until she happened to come in the door could take weeks, or it might never happen again. The Cajun Star was set to leave Memphis on the twenty-first of November. He had to find her before then and keep her off that boat.
They’d waited an hour.
“She isn’t coming, Joe. I’ll have to find another way to reach her.”
“How did it happen before, on the boat?”
“I don’t know. The second time, though, was in a dream.”
“Well, take a nap when you get home. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
The absurd notion that David could just take a nap, dream about Lisette and tell her to meet him somewhere seemed foolishly simplistic and absurd. Another equally absurd thought followed. But the whole scenario was absurd. Why not? He picked up the crutches, tested his balance. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure, Bro? We can wait a while longer if you want. I’m in no hurry.”
“I’m going to take your advice—and see a shrink.”
Joe’s forehead creased. “I was kidding, David. I didn’t mean—”
“I know. I’ll explain in the car.”
They pulled into the parking lot of Dr. Robert Townsend’s office complex about ten minutes later. Bob and David had been friends since college. Of all the people he might talk to about the experiences he’d just had, Bob was second on the list, after Joe.
Joe had been skeptical all through the explanation of what David wanted to try next. Of course, it depended on Bob and whether or not he would believe their story.
“Are you sure you want to do this, David?”
“Hell no, I’m not sure. Can you think of anything better?”
Joe got out of the car. “No, but the last thing I’d want to do is tell a shrink I’ve been popping back and forth between this year and 1880. He’s bound to say, ‘How well did you get along with your mother?’”
“Very funny. If that happens, you’ll get me out of there before he can have me committed, right?”
“Right.” Both of them laughed at that.
David almost reconsidered before going into the office, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that hypnosis might be the only way to reach Lisette. No way to know until they tried. Joe would be there to corroborate the story. If Bob Townsend couldn’t believe David alone, he’d have to believe both of them.
“Dr. Townsend is with a patient. He’ll be free in about twenty minutes. Would you care to wait?”
“Thank you.” They sat down. Joe reached for a dog-eared copy of Sports Illustrated, the swimsuit issue. David let his mind wander, trying to stay calm. He’d been hypnotized only once, in med school. The hypnotist, the doctor lecturing on psychiatry, had pronounced him a good subject because of his open-mindedness. David guess that hadn’t changed. He was here now because he’d opened his mind to possibilities he’d never considered.
His knowledge of time travel theories was limited. About the only thing he knew for sure was Einstein’s theory that all times exist at the same time. The mind was a powerful organ, but could Joe have disappeared just because he believed he’d traveled back in time? Could the whole experience have been an illusion, a hallucination, nothing more than wishful thinking?
Joe bumped David’s elbow and pointed to a picture of Rubicon, the hottest model on the runway these days, in the magazine, then rattled on about the Yankees’ chances of making it to the World Series this year. David shrugged, didn’t comment. Baseball was the last thing on his mind. Even the picture of a sexy model in a gold bikini didn’t interest him. Although the thought of Lisette in a swimsuit for the first time brought a smile and a few thoughts he didn’t share with Joe.
The receptionist came into the waiting room. “Dr. Townsend will see you now, Dr. Stewart.”
They followed her to an office in the rear of the building. Bob Townsend sat at a huge leather bound desk, scribbling in a file. The room was lined with books and an occasional fern or potted plant. The traditional couch sat next to the far windows. David almost backed out, but they’d come this far. The picture in his mind of Lisette in a gold bikini convinced him he had to do whatever he could. Even something this crazy.
“Thanks for making time for us, Bob.”
“Come in, David. Good to see you. Looks like you’ve had a bit of an accident.” Bob offered his hand to Joe. “Bob Townsend.”
“Joe Stewart. Glad to meet you.”
“Joe’s my brother, Bob. How much time can we have?”
“Let me see.” He pressed the intercom button. “Melanie, is Mr. Cooper here yet?”
“He just called to say he’ll be delayed. Shall I call him back and reschedule?”
Bob raised his eyebrows to question David. He nodded. “Yes, reschedule. No calls, please.”
“Thanks, Bob. I appreciate your time.”
“No problem. My next patient isn’t due for an hour. How can I help? I’m afraid I’m not the best doctor for an ankle injury.”
“All part of the story.”
Bob leaned back in his chair. His pleasant expression soon changed to deep interest and wonder as David related the details of meeting Lisette at the dance and at the Peabody. Almost immediately he began taking notes on a legal pad, encouraging David to continue, remaining solemn. Not a glimmer of a dubious smile.
“Joe saw the whole thing. I figured you’d be interested in an eye witness.”
“You saw him disappear—then reappear.”
Joe nodded. “I was looking straight at him. Then he wasn’t there. Scared the hell out of me. The next thing I knew, he was splashing around in the fountain, his ankle swelling, ducks flying everywhere.”
Bob smiled, then pondered a moment. “All right, David. I have to tell you a fantastic story like yours wouldn’t hold an ounce of credibility if you weren’t the one telling it.”
“I appreciate that, Bob.”
“You obviously need my help to contact this woman again, am I right?”
Bob was as sharp a doctor as David had ever known. And open-minded. At the university, they’d considered him wild and crazy. When he’d decided to become a psychiatrist, David had told Bob he’d be his own first patient.
“Hypnosis?”
“Would we have a chance?”
“No way to say until we try.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Why not? I could suggest that you’re able to observe people in the eighteen hundreds and see what happens. You might tell me I’m crazy, that people can’t hop from one century to the next, but out-of-body experiences are one thing science can’t explain. Some of it is pure hoax, of course. But I was with a guy once in med school who said he could travel anywhere I told him to go. I sent him to my parents’ home, about eighty miles away. He described the furniture, my father sitting in his recliner, my mother talking on the telephone, and even the paintings on the wall and the inscription on one of them. I knew he’d never been to my parents’ home. I had no choice but to believe he’d actually left his body and gone there.”
