Mind Over Matter

by Nora Roberts

  She laughed, the smoky, sultry murmur that had made men itch for more than two decades. “I appreciate the obvious. And you’re David Brady.” Her gaze shifted to him and he felt the unapologetic summing up, strictly woman to man. “I’ve seen several of your productions. My husband prefers documentaries and biographies to films. I can’t think why he married me.”

  “I can.” David accepted her hand. “I’m an avid fan.”

  “As long as you don’t tell me you’ve enjoyed my movies since you were a child.” Amusement glimmered in her eyes again before she glanced around. “Now if you’ll introduce me to our crew, we can get started.”

  David had admired her for years. After ten minutes in her company, his admiration grew. She spoke to each member of the crew, from the director down to the assistant lighting technician. When she’d finished, she turned herself over to Sam for instructions.

  At her suggestion, they moved to the terrace. Patient, she waited while technicians set up reflectors and umbrellas to exploit the best effect from available light. Her maid set a table of cold drinks and snacks out of camera range. Though she didn’t touch a thing, she indicated to the crew that they should enjoy. She sat easily through sound tests and blocking. When Sam was satisfied, she turned to Alex and began.

  “Mrs. Van Camp, for twenty years you’ve been known as one of the most talented and best-loved actresses in the country.”

  “Thank you, Alex. My career has always been one of the most important parts of my life.”

  “One of the most. We’re here now to discuss another part of your life. Your family, most specifically your son. A decade ago, you nearly faced tragedy.”

  “Yes, I did.” She folded her hands. Though the sun shone down in her face, she never blinked. “A tragedy that I sincerely doubt I would have recovered from.”

  “This is the first interview you’ve given on this subject. Can I ask you why you agreed now?”

  She smiled a little, leaning back in her weathered rattan chair. “Timing, in life and in business, is crucial. For several years after my son’s abduction I simply couldn’t speak of it. After a time, it seemed unnecessary to bring it up again. Now, if I watch the news or look in a store window and see posters of missing children, I ache for the parents.”

  “Do you consider that this interview might help those parents?”

  “Help them find their children, no.” Emotion flickered in her eyes, very real and very brief. “But perhaps it can ease some of the misery. I’d never considered sharing my feelings about my own experience. And I doubt very much if I would have agreed if it hadn’t been for Clarissa DeBasse.”

  “Clarissa DeBasse asked you to give this interview?”

  After a soft laugh, Alice shook her head. “Clarissa never asks anything. But when I spoke with her and I realized she had faith in this project, I agreed.”

  “You have a great deal of faith in her.”

  “She gave me back my son.”

  She said it with such simplicity, with such utter sincerity, that Alex let the sentence hang. From somewhere in the garden at her back, a bird began to trill.

  “That’s what we’d like to talk about here. Will you tell us how you came to know Clarissa DeBasse?”

  Behind the cameras, behind the crew, David stood with his hands in his pockets and listened to the story. He remembered how A.J. had once told him of her mother’s gradual association with celebrities. Alice Van Camp had come to her with a friend on a whim. After an hour, she’d gone away impressed with Clarissa’s gentle style and straightforward manner. On impulse, she’d commissioned Clarissa to do her husband’s chart as a gift for their anniversary. When it was done, even the pragmatic and business-oriented Peter Van Camp had been intrigued.

  “She told me things about myself,” Alice went on. “Not about tomorrow, you understand, but about my feelings, things about my background that had influenced me, or still worried me. I can’t say I always liked what she had to say. There are things about ourselves we don’t like to admit. But I kept going back because she was so intriguing, and gradually we became friends.”

  “You believed in clairvoyance?”

  Alice’s brows drew together as she considered. “I would say I first began to see her because it was fun, it was different. I’d chosen to lead a secluded life after the birth of my son, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate, even need, little touches of flash. Of the unique.” The frown smoothed as she smiled. “Clarissa was undoubtedly unique.”

  “So you went to her for entertainment.”

  “Oh, yes, that was definitely the motivation in the beginning. You see, at first I thought she was simply very clever. Then, as I began to know her, I discovered she was not simply clever, she was special. That certainly doesn’t mean I endorse every palmist on Sunset Boulevard. I certainly can’t claim to understand the testing and research that’s done on the subject. I do believe, however, that there are some of us who are more sensitive, or whose senses are more finely tuned.”

  “Will you tell us what happened when your son was abducted?”

  “June 22. Almost ten years ago.” Alice closed her eyes a moment. “To me it’s yesterday. You have children, Mr. Marshall?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And you love them.”

  “Very much.”

  “Then you have some small glimmer of what it would be like to lose them, even for a short time. There’s terror and there’s guilt. The guilt is nearly as painful as the fear. You see, I hadn’t been with him when he’d been taken. Jenny was Matthew’s nanny. She’d been with us over five years and was very devoted to my son. She was young, but dependable and fiercely protective. When I made the decision to go back into films, we leaned on Jenny heavily. Neither my husband nor myself wanted Matthew to suffer because I was working again.”

  “Your son was nearly ten when you agreed to do another movie.”

  “Yes, he was quite independent already. Both Peter and I wanted that for him. Very often during the filming, Jenny would bring him to the studio. Even after the shooting was complete, she continued in her habit of walking to the park with him in the afternoon. If I had realized then how certain habits can be dangerous, I would have stopped it. Both my husband and myself had been careful to keep Matthew out of the limelight, not because we were afraid for him physically, but because we felt it was best that his upbringing be as normal and natural as possible. Of course he was recognized, and now and then some enterprising photographer would get a shot in.”

  “Did that sort of thing bother you?”

  “No.” When she smiled, the sultry glamour came through. “I suppose I was accustomed to such things. Peter and I didn’t want to be fanatics about our privacy. And I wonder, and always have, if we’d been stricter would it have made any difference? I doubt it.” There was a little sigh, as though it were a point she’d yet to resolve. “We learned later that Matthew’s visits to the park were being watched.”

  “For a time the police suspected Jennifer Waite, your son’s nanny, of working with the kidnappers.”

  “That was, of course, absurd. I never for a minute doubted Jenny’s loyalty and devotion to Matthew. Once it was over, she was completely cleared.” A trace of stubbornness came through. “She’s still in my employ.”

  “The investigators found her story disjointed.”

  “The afternoon he was abducted, Jenny came home hysterical. We were the closest thing to family she had, and she blamed herself. Matthew had been playing ball with several other children while she watched. A young woman had come up to her asking for directions. She’d spun a story about missing her bus and being new in town. She’d distracted Jenny only a few moments, and that’s all it took. When she looked back, Jenny saw Matthew being hustled into a car at the edge of the park. She ran after him, but he was gone. Ten minutes after she came home alone the first ransom call came in.”

  She lifted her hands to her lips a moment, and they trembled lightly. “I’m sorry
. Could we stop here a moment?”

  “Cut. Five minutes,” Sam ordered the crew.

  David was beside her chair before Sam had finished speaking. “Would you like something, Mrs. Van Camp? A drink?”

  “No.” She shook her head and looked beyond him. “It isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Ten years, and it still isn’t easy.”

  “I could send for your husband.”

  “I told Peter to stay away today because he’s always so uncomfortable around cameras. I wish I hadn’t.”

  “We can wrap for today.”

  “Oh, no.” She took a deep breath and composed herself. “I believe in finishing what I start. Matthew’s a sophomore in college.” She smiled up at David. “Do you like happy endings?”

  He held her hand. For the moment she was only a woman. “I’m a sucker for them.”

  “He’s bright, handsome and in love. I just needed to remember that. It could have been…” She linked her hands again and the ruby on her finger shone like blood. “It could have been much different. You know Clarissa’s daughter, don’t you?”

  A bit off-balance at the change of subject, David shifted. “Yes.”

  She admired the caution. “I meant it when I said Clarissa and I are friends. Mothers worry about their children. Do you have a cigarette?”

  In silence he took one out and lit it for her.

  Alice blew out smoke and let some of the tension fade. “She’s a hell of an agent. Do you know, I wanted to sign with her and she wouldn’t have me?”

  David forgot his own cigarette in simple astonishment. “I beg your pardon?”

  Alice laughed again and relaxed. She’d needed a moment to remember life went on. “It was a few months after the kidnapping. A.J. figured I’d come to her out of gratitude to Clarissa. And maybe I had. In any case, she turned me down flat, even though she was scrambling around trying to rent decent office space. I admired her integrity. So much so that a few years ago I approached her again.” Alice smiled at him, enjoying the fact that he listened very carefully. Apparently, she mused, Clarissa was right on target, as always. “She was established, respected. And she turned me down again.”

  What agent in her right mind would turn down a top name, a name that had earned through sheer talent the label of “megastar”? “A.J. never quite does what you expect,” he murmured.

  “Clarissa’s daughter is a woman who insists on being accepted for herself, but can’t always tell when she is.” She crushed out the cigarette after a second quick puff. “Thanks. I’d like to continue now.”

  Within moments, Alice was deep into her own story. Though the camera continued to roll, she forgot about it. Sitting in the sunlight with the scent of roses strong and sweet, she talked about her hours of terror.

  “We would have paid anything. Anything. Peter and I fought bitterly about calling in the police. The kidnappers had been very specific. We weren’t to contact anyone. But Peter felt, and rightly so, that we needed help. The ransom calls came every few hours. We agreed to pay, but they kept changing the terms. Testing us. It was the worst kind of cruelty. While we waited, the police began searching for the car Jenny had seen and the woman she’d spoken with in the park. It was as if they’d vanished into thin air. At the end of forty-eight hours, we were no closer to finding Matthew.”

  “So you decided to call in Clarissa DeBasse?”

  “I don’t know when the idea of asking Clarissa to help came to me. I know I hadn’t slept or eaten. I just kept waiting for the phone to ring. It’s such a helpless feeling. I remembered, God knows why, that Clarissa had once told me where to find a diamond brooch I’d misplaced. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry to me, but something Peter had given me when Matthew was born. A child isn’t a brooch, but I began to think, maybe, just maybe. I needed some hope.

  “The police didn’t like the idea. I don’t believe Peter did, either, but he knew I needed something. I called Clarissa and I told her that Matthew had been taken.” Her eyes filled. She didn’t bother to blink the tears away. “I asked her if she could help me and she told me she’d try.

  “I broke down when she arrived. She sat with me awhile, friend to friend, mother to mother. She spoke to Jenny, though there was no calming the poor girl down even at that point. The police were very terse with Clarissa, but she seemed to accept that. She told them they were looking in the wrong place.” Unselfconsciously she brushed at the tears on her cheek. “I can tell you that didn’t sit too well with the men who’d been working around the clock. She told them Matthew hadn’t been taken out of the city, he hadn’t gone north as they’d thought. She asked for something of Matthew’s, something he would have worn. I brought her the pajamas he’d worn to bed the night before. They were blue with little cars across the top. She just sat there, running them through her hands. I remember wanting to scream at her, plead with her, to give me something. Then she started to speak very quietly.

  “Matthew was only miles away, she said. He hadn’t been taken to San Francisco, though the police had traced one of the ransom calls there. She said he was still in Los Angeles. She described the street, then the house. A white house with blue shutters on a corner lot. I’ll never forget the way she described the room in which he was being held. It was dark, you see, and Matthew, though he always tried to be brave, was still afraid of the dark. She said there were only two people in the house, one man and the woman who had spoken to Jenny in the park. She thought there was a car in the drive, gray or green, she said. And she told me he wasn’t hurt. He was afraid—” her voice shuddered, then strengthened “—but he wasn’t hurt.”

  “And the police pursued the lead?”

  “They didn’t have much faith in it, naturally enough, but they sent out cars to look for the house she’d described. I don’t know who was more stunned when they found it, Peter and myself or the police. They got Matthew out without a struggle because the two kidnappers with him weren’t expecting any trouble. The third accomplice was in San Fransico, making all the calls. The police also found the car he’d been abducted in there.

  “Clarissa stayed until Matthew was home, until he was safe. Later he told me about the room he’d been held in. It was exactly as she’d described it.”

  “Mrs. Van Camp, a lot of people claimed that the abduction and the dramatic rescue of your son was a publicity stunt to hype the release of your first movie since his birth.”

  “That didn’t matter to me.” With only her voice, with only her eyes, she showed her complete contempt. “They could say and believe whatever they wanted. I had my son back.”

  “And you believe Clarissa DeBasse is responsible for that?”

  “I know she is.”

  “Cut,” Sam mumbled to his cameraman before he walked to Alice. “Mrs. Van Camp, if we can get a few reaction shots and over-the-shoulder angles, we’ll be done.”

  He could go now. David knew there was no real reason for him to remain during the angle changes. The shoot was essentially finished, and had been everything he could have asked for. Alice Van Camp was a consummate actress, but no one watching this segment would consider that she’d played a part. She’d been a mother, reliving an experience every mother fears. And she had, by the telling, brought the core of his project right back to Clarissa.

  He thought perhaps he understood a little better why A.J. had had mixed feelings about the interview. Alice Van Camp had suffered in the telling. If his instincts were right, Clarissa would have suffered, too. It seemed to him that empathy was an intimate part of her gift.

  Nevertheless he stayed behind the camera and restlessly waited until the shoot was complete. Though he detected a trace of weariness in her eyes, Alice escorted the crew to the door herself.

  “A remarkable woman,” Alex commented as they walked down the circular steps toward the drive.

  “And then some. But you’ve got one yourself.”

  “I certainly do.” Alex pulled out the cigar he’d been patiently waiting for for more th
an three hours. “I might be a little biased, but I believe you have one, as well.”

  Frowning, David paused by his car. “I haven’t got A.J.” It occurred to him that it was the first time he had thought of it in precisely those terms.

  “Clarissa seems to think you do.”

  He turned back and leaned against his car. “And approves?”

  “Shouldn’t she?”

  He pulled out a cigarette. The restlessness was growing. “I don’t know.”

  “You were going to ask me something earlier, before we went in. Do you want to ask me now?”

  It had been nagging at him. David wondered if by stating it aloud it would ease. “Clarissa isn’t an ordinary woman. Does it bother you?”

  Alex took a contented puff on his cigar. “It certainly intrigues me, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’ve had one or two uneasy moments. What I feel for her cancels out the fact that I have five senses and she has what we might call six. You’re having uneasy moments.” He smiled a little when David said nothing. “Clarissa doesn’t believe in keeping secrets. We’ve talked about her daughter.”

  “I’m not sure A.J. would be comfortable with that.”

  “No, maybe not. It’s more to the point what you’re comfortable with. You know the trouble with a man your age, David? You consider yourself too old to go take foolish risks and too young to trust impulse. I thank God I’m not thirty.” With a smile, he walked over to hitch a ride back to town with Sam.

  He was too old to take foolish risks, David thought as he pulled his door open. And a man who trusted impulse usually landed flat on his face. But he wanted to see her. He wanted to see her now.

  A.J.’s briefcase weighed heavily as she pulled it from the front seat. Late rush-hour traffic streamed by the front of her building. If she’d been able to accomplish more during office hours, she reminded herself as she lugged up her case, she wouldn’t have to plow through papers tonight. She would have accomplished more if she hadn’t been uneasy, thinking of the Van Camp interview.