Harlan Coben

by Play Dead

  T.C. lifted the picture of Stan kissing Gloria and handed it to Laura. “But what about Gloria?”

  THE patient read Sunday’s Boston Globe. He had always loved Sunday papers. During his college years, he and his roommates would emerge noontime Sunday from the dormitory after a particularly rough Saturday night, grab some brunch, and spread out with a few Sunday papers. By dinnertime, the newspapers resembled a floor covering.

  It was a tradition he continued to maintain.

  He put down the Parade Magazine section and rummaged through the different sections until he found the sports section. Usually he skipped the sports section and that surprised a lot of people. But lately, he had changed his thinking.

  Section C. Page 1. An article by Mike Logan. The patient had always liked Mike Logan. He was a good reporter who had a genuine love for his job and the Boston Celtics.

  CELTS GEARING UP FOR ROUGH ROAD

  by Mike Logan

  My team—our team—is in trouble, folks. Big trouble. You may remember last season’s Eastern Conference play-offs. The Celtics barely squeaked by the Chicago Bulls and the Detroit Pistons. And I mean barely. No room to spare for mistakes.

  Then the Boys from Beantown faced the Los Angeles Lakers for the NBA Championship. Let’s face it. They should have lost. Had it not been for a last-minute miracle by David Baskin, the Celtics would not be the defending champions today.

  Yes, other NBA teams are rising. And yes, the Celtics are sinking. Sinking fast.

  It’s not their fault. The David Baskin tragedy was not their doing. But excuses don’t win championships. Great players, coaches, and organization do. The coaching is no problem. The same with Clip Arnstein’s organization.

  Ah, but the players!

  No one could argue about the talent of team center Earl Roberts or the outside shooting touch of Timmy Daniels or the ball handling of Johnny Dennison. They’re great. No doubt about it. But without White Lightning, this is just a good team. Not a great one. They need a great forward.

  But how do they get one?

  In the past Clip Arnstein, alias “The Miracle Worker,” came up with something. And why not this time? After all, the Celtics still have the best organization in basketball. The Miracle Worker thrives in these situations. Usually he digs up a surprise draft pick. But this year, even Clip admits the draft picks are mediocre at best. Maybe he’ll find a free agent. But no, the free-agent camp has produced no superstars. Maybe he’ll make another great trade. Uh-uh. The other teams don’t want to help out the Celtics and most organizations are afraid of getting burned by Clip.

  So what’s left?

  You got me. I’m a reporter. It’s not my job, thank God. Clip Arnstein is the ageless genius and he doesn’t even know. But when you’ve watched the Celtics as long as I have, you start to believe in miracles. Somebody will come along. Somebody will be the Celtic Savior.

  The patient looked up. He had a pretty good idea who that somebody might be.

  “STAN Baskin is here to see you.”

  Laura felt her leg begin to shake. “Send him in.”

  A few seconds later, Stan opened the door. He smiled brightly. “Hi, Laura.”

  She tried to keep an even tone. “Come in, Stan.”

  He closed the door behind him and kissed Laura on the cheek. “You look as beautiful as always.”

  “Thank you. Won’t you sit down?”

  He did so as the intercom buzzed.

  “Laura?”

  “Yes, Estelle?”

  “Is it okay if I go to lunch now?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Laura realized her leg was shaking more than usual. She made a conscious effort to stop it. “I wanted to speak to you about your mall idea.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you give me a few details on it?”

  “Details?”

  “Yes, I’d like to hear more about it.”

  Stan sensed something different in her voice. “Not much to tell. It will be gorgeous when it’s finished. I’d say there will be about two hundred stores.”

  “How many square feet?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure.”

  “Where is it going to be located?”

  “In Boston.”

  “Central Boston?”

  “Sure.”

  Laura leaned back. “But there’s no room to build something that large in central Boston. And you’ll need a lot more than a million dollars to get started.”

  “Right but—”

  “Who’s the contractor?”

  “Contractor?”

  “The builder.”

  Stan’s smile was flicking like an old lightbulb. “I forgot his name.”

  “And your lawyer has secured permission from city hall?”

  “Uh, just about …”

  “Well, don’t worry there. Teddy Hines at the mayor’s office is in charge of building permits. I’ll call him to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

  His eyes darted around the room. “Don’t bother yourself with that, Laura.”

  “No bother.” Laura started to feel more in control. “Tell me about your last deal in Michigan.”

  “To be honest, it didn’t go very well.”

  “I see,” Laura replied evenly.

  “I was operating a toy-manufacturing company.”

  “Really? What kind of toys?”

  “Oh, standard stuff. I sold out.”

  “Who bought it?”

  “You wouldn’t know them.”

  “Try me.”

  Stan realized that he was being cornered. He just wasn’t sure what to do about it. “Just a friend.”

  “I see. How’s your finger, Stan?”

  “Better, thanks.”

  “Freak break, huh?”

  Stan shrugged. “Not that unusual.”

  “Having a car door slam on just your middle finger, missing all the others completely? That’s hardly a normal injury.”

  For a moment they both just stopped and watched each other. Then Stan broke the silence. “What’s going on, Laura? Why all the questions?”

  Laura took a deep breath. “I had a talk with T.C.—”

  “I told you he doesn’t like me.”

  “He told me what happened between you and David.”

  Her words hit Stan like a splash of cold water. “T.C. is exaggerating. You can’t believe what he says.”

  She lifted the file from her desk. “And how about your arrest record? Did he make that up, too?”

  Stan swallowed. It was all unraveling. He was so damn close and now the bitch was stabbing him in the back. “They were trumped-up charges. I haven’t been a saint when it comes to women. I admit that. But I never stole from them and I never meant to hurt any of them. It’s just that some women can’t let go. You know how spiteful an ex-lover can be.”

  Laura stood and walked from around her desk. “Maybe that’s so, Stan, but I don’t want to take that chance. You’ve tried to take advantage of me and my family. And I’ve decided not to give you any of David’s money. I don’t think he’d want me to.”

  Stan’s hands clenched into fists. He fought to maintain control, to keep his temper in check. “Fine, Laura. Like I said before, I don’t deserve it anyway.”

  “One other thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like you to leave me and my family alone.”

  Stan was fighting off panic now. “You can’t mean that. If I’ve done something in the past, that’s one thing. As you yourself said, the past is the past. I am trying my best to make amends. Don’t take away the only family I have.”

  “I do mean it.” Her hand reached into her top drawer and pulled out a photograph of Stan kissing her sister. “And I especially want you to leave Gloria alone.”

  Stan glared down at the photograph. Anger finally nudged its way into his voice. “How did you get that?”

  “It’s not important.”

  �
�How did you get that?” he repeated.

  Laura put the picture back in her drawer. “Why not worry about other things, Stan? Like paying off the gentleman who broke your finger.”

  Stan’s face turned red. He tried to think of something to say that might salvage this situation. But it was pointless. Laura was just another in a long line of women who wanted to possess him. To own him. This was simply her way of taking control. Well, Stan, my man, was not about to let her get away with it. It was time to turn the tide. To teach her a lesson. “Okay, Laura, you win. I’m very sorry about everything. Please believe me.”

  “Whatever.” She spun toward the window. “Now please leave.”

  He stood and made his way to the door. “Laura?”

  Laura turned to face him. Her eyes widened when she saw his fist heading toward her face. She ducked. His knuckles skimmed the side of her temple. She fell to her knees. Dizziness and pain seared through her skull.

  Stan stood over her. His fingers reached down and closed around her blouse. Laura pulled away, and the thin material ripped.

  “Oh, my God,” he began. His eyes grew large with lust as he gazed upon her. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re body is fantastic!”

  Laura tried to roll away from him, but Stan followed. “Relax, Laura,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve been dying to do this to you since the first day we met. And you’ve been dying for it, too. David wasn’t a real man, Laura. Not by a long shot. But you’re about to be fucked by a real man for the first time in your life.”

  He looked down and unfastened his belt. It was a mistake on his part.

  Laura saw the opening. She slammed her fist into his groin. Stan’s eyes bulged. Laura scrambled to her feet, but she did not get far. His hand grabbed her ankle and tugged her back to the floor.

  “You bitch!”

  “Let go of me!” she screamed.

  He did as she asked, his expression switching instantly from lustful to that of a confused child. “But … but I thought you wanted me.”

  She looked at him with horror in her eyes. He meant what he said. He really thought that she wanted him. “I’d rather make love to a St. Bernard.”

  “You teasing little whore.”

  She held the ripped parts of the blouse against her chest. “Get out of here, Stan. Get out before I have you thrown in jail.”

  He smiled crazily. “You don’t mean that, Laura. You still want me, don’t you? Admit it. You’re just jealous of Gloria.”

  She started to crawl away slowly. “You’re slime. Get out of here. And leave my sister alone.”

  He shook his head. “Not until this is finished, Laura.”

  Her eyes grew frightened. “It’s finished, Stan. Get out.”

  Stan rose, his face pinched in confusion. He walked toward the door and opened it. “Finished, Laura?” he repeated with a shake of his head. He turned to leave. “Not by a long shot.”

  STAN sprinted out of the building and onto the street. What the hell had happened? One minute he had a million dollars and the next it was gone.

  Damn that fuckin’ T.C.

  But it was not just T.C.’s fault. It was that cold bitch sister-in-law who had truly betrayed him. And the reason was obvious. Laura did not care about his past. That was just an excuse. The real reason was jealousy. She was pissed off because he had fooled around with her sister and not with her. That was why she suddenly had a bug up her shapely ass. Oh yes, she wanted him. Craved him. And worse, her hubbie had just died, so she could not blatantly come on to him. How would it look? Yes, Stan thought to himself, Laura was a bundle of frustrated cravings.

  Cravings for him.

  But right now Stan was in big trouble. The B Man was after him and he had no way of paying him back. The million dollars was lost … for now anyway. He would have to hide, have to find a new scam, have to …

  What the hell was he talking about?

  He smiled. The game was not over. Not by a long shot. Stan, my man, was still in control. He still held the winning ace: Gloria Ayars, aka Miss Instability 1989.

  He turned the corner and found a phone booth. He dropped a coin in the slot and dialed.

  Gloria’s voice answered. “Hello?”

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  Her tone held its normal nervous quiver. “Stan?”

  “Yes, my love. How are you feeling on this fine day?”

  “Fine. And you?” she ventured.

  “Sinfully happy. I’m flying high.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course,” Stan replied. “You’re the best thing to happen to me in years. I can’t wait to see you again.”

  “I’ll be off in a couple of hours,” enthused Gloria.

  “Sorry. Can’t wait that long. Let’s meet right now.”

  “Stan,” she said with a little laugh, “I’m working.”

  “Let’s disappear for a few days. Just you and me.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “Then let’s do it. Let’s go to someplace secluded and romantic.”

  “I know just the place.”

  “Where?”

  “The Deerfield Inn. It’s a small country inn about an hour and a half from here.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “But, Stan, I can’t just take off from here. I have work to do.”

  His voice was filled with disappointment. “I just thought it would be really special if we could just share a few days alone together. I need to be alone with you so we can explore our feelings.”

  “Can’t you wait a few hours?”

  He hesitated. “I guess so. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m sorry. I got a little excited because last night was so special for me. I understand if you don’t feel the same way.”

  “But I do feel the same way,” she assured him. Gloria thought for a moment, her hand wrapping the telephone cord around her fingers. “Oh, why not? Let’s do it.”

  He almost laughed at her gullibility. “Do you mean it?”

  She smiled, feeling good about her decision. “Sure. I’ll just go tell Laura—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “Can’t we just keep it our little se- cret? It makes it all the more spontaneous and secluded.”

  “But she’ll worry if I just disappear.”

  “Leave her a note that you’re going away for a few days. Just don’t give her any details.”

  There was a pause. “I guess that’ll be okay. But—”

  “Great. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes. And, Gloria?”

  “Yes?”

  “I feel really good about this.”

  “So do I, Stan.”

  LAURA locked her office door. She moved toward her private bathroom, stripped out of her clothes, and stepped into the shower. She was still dazed, still not sure she believed what had happened. The whole experience had a dreamlike quality to it. Now she wondered if Stan had really attacked her or if her imagination was running rampant.

  No. It had happened. Laura’s imagination had never been that good.

  She finished showering, stepped out, and dried herself off. Tears began to well in her eyes as the numbness subsided. Her shoulders heaved. She threw the torn clothes into a waste basket and put on some fresh ones she kept in the closet. She sat on the bathroom stool, her arms wrapped around herself in a hug. Her leg was shaking.

  Help me, David. I need you so badly. Please come back and tell me what to do.

  She continued to cry. She had handled Stan all wrong, and now she was not sure what her next step should be.

  Gloria.

  Gloria was going to be devastated. What could Laura tell her?

  “Gloria?”

  “Yes, Laura?”

  “The man you slept with last night was by far the largest piece of scum on the planet Earth. He makes your past boyfriends seem like Gandhi.”

  There was no way she could do that. A few weeks ago, it had seemed that Gloria would never trust a man again. Her past experi
ences had made her conclude that all men were out to destroy her. Gloria must have very deep feelings for Stan Baskin if she had let him break down that wall of suspicion and fear.

  What was Laura going to do?

  The answer came to her. She would call Gloria’s psychiatrist, Dr. Jennifer Harris. Dr. Harris would know what to do. Though psychiatry had a strict rule protecting patient confidentiality, Gloria had insisted from the beginning that Laura be involved in her treatment. After seeing the two sisters together, Dr. Harris had agreed.

  Laura sat down at her desk and made the call. They exchanged pleasantries and then Laura told Jennifer Harris the entire story. She started with Stan’s first visit at the funeral and ended with him storming out of her office.

  When she was finished, Dr. Harris was silent for a moment. “Gloria has mentioned Stan Baskin to me. You’re right. I think she is somewhat infatuated with him.”

  “What should I do?” Laura asked.

  “Gloria has not come close to risking a relationship with a man since her breakdown,” Dr. Harris explained. “If she finally did sleep with someone, it was by no means a quick decision. She’s probably very scared right now, wondering if she made the right choice. But understand this, Laura: if she thought there was the slightest chance that Stan Baskin did not have strong feelings for her, she would have never risked it. In other words, there was no risk in her mind. Deep down, she was sure he cared about her.”

  “But he’s scum, Doctor.”

  “Not exactly a medical term but I get your meaning. You have to tread very gently here, Laura. You can’t just burst into Gloria’s office and tell her that the man she cares about is a louse.”

  “But I can’t just sit back and let her keep falling for him either. I have to tell her the truth.”

  Again a pause. “Yes and no.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You might want to try subtle disapproval but I wouldn’t go into too many specifics right away.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if Gloria really has fallen for this man, then she won’t listen to you. She’ll get defensive and isolate herself from your words. You may actually end up pushing her toward Stan rather than away from him.”