That Was Yesterday

by Vella Munn

  Lucky? “She’s—”

  “She’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh.” Mara felt both concern and compassion for the other woman. Those emotions fought for time with an inescapable fact: her attacker was still shattering people’s lives.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Clint asked. “You don’t look so good.”

  No. I’m not all right. “Do you— Maybe I should visit her. See if there’s something I can do?”

  “I asked Kline. I guess they’ve got some rape counseling people at the hospital. I’m sure they’re talking to her.”

  Mara almost laughed, but she knew if she let the sound begin, it might turn into something ugly. Of course she didn’t want to be in a hospital, facing the aftermath of having been raped, but if she had been, there would have been a support group for her, too. She might even have found someone to tell certain things to. “That’s good,” she said distractedly. “Clint? Thanks for telling me.”

  “Don’t thank me. It’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

  Somehow Mara got through the rest of the day, but the thought of what the other woman had endured was never far from her mind. She thought about calling Reed at the hotel, but stopped herself. He had his own agenda to deal with. This was something she had to handle. As soon as she could, she went through the newspaper until she found the article. It said that the woman had been taken to a downtown hospital. Mara called Detective Kline and got the woman’s name. She called the hospital. Yes, Rennie Chambers was a patient, and yes, she could have visitors.

  Mara climbed into the Corvette and started toward the city. She’d covered a mile before she realized which car she was driving. It was too late to go back and change vehicles. Besides, if she did, she would be admitting defeat. Still, she slowed.

  Rennie Chambers’s husband was with her. Hesitantly, Mara introduced herself. “I should have come sooner,” she stammered. “Maybe it won’t make any difference, but I wanted to let you know. You aren’t the first.”

  Frank Chambers indicated the other chair in the room. “He got you, too?”

  Mara sank into the uncomfortable seat. “I managed to escape before… Maybe it wasn’t the same man, but…I guess…” She ran her fingers through her hair. She hadn’t remembered to comb it. “I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to.”

  Rennie’s right hand was in a cast. With her left hand she gripped her husband. “I think I’ve told my story a thousand times,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I can’t seem to stop. I feel sick every time I go over that horrible— A social worker came to see me. She said it was normal to act and feel the way I do. I guess the more I talk, the sooner I’ll be able to put it behind me.”

  Mara wanted to tell Rennie that she hadn’t been able to put her attack behind her, but they weren’t the same people, and the circumstances were different. Yes, Rennie had been raped, but Rennie had a supportive husband and the hospital social worker and people from the rape crisis center coming to see her.

  There wasn’t anyone for Mara.

  Mara stayed for the better part of an hour. She was able to talk about most of the details of her own abduction. She even hinted at the aftershock she was experiencing. The couple expressed outrage toward the rapist and their determination to do whatever they could to bring him to justice. Rennie had tried to remember details, but except for build, her description of the man didn’t match the ones given by the earlier victims. Frank Chambers pointed out that Detective Kline had mentioned he suspected the rapist was deliberately altering his appearance.

  “I keep thinking about that,” Frank said. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  Mara remembered little of what they talked about after that. Rennie was going to be released in the morning. Her sister was taking time off work to watch the Chamberses’ two children while their mother recuperated, and Frank’s parents had flown in this morning. Because Frank never left his wife’s side, Mara hadn’t felt free to ask Rennie if her attacker had forced certain words from her.

  “You’ve never heard the word fear, have you?” Mara asked Lobo once she had brought him inside the mobile home and locked the doors and windows. “There isn’t anything you don’t think you can handle.”

  She checked her answering machine. There weren’t any messages from Reed. Had he forgotten her already?

  Of course not. He’d given her his weekend, let her know he wanted to make love to her. If he ever found a deserted island, she’d be the one to fly him there.

  Call me, he’d told her. She could do that. They’d talk about— No. She would not run to him seeking courage. She would not!

  With the help of a glass of warm milk and thoughts of a man and a woman tumbling together in the surf, Mara fell asleep. She woke in the middle of the night, a thought hammering through her. Was it possible…had that animal come looking for her first, and when he hadn’t been able to find her, gone after another victim?

  Mara slipped out of bed. She pushed aside the curtains and looked out at the night. She could see the garden Reed had admired, the rose bushes he’d culled to take to Jack when he told the older man that he’d met someone. The moon was as bright as it had been on the coast, but this time there was no promise in its silvered light. There were only shadows.

  Was that a movement? No. Of course not.

  Mara continued to stare at the base of the tree her father had planted soon after she’d bought the property. The tree had grown quickly, but the trunk wasn’t broad enough to hide anyone.

  There. The trunk looked misshapen, as if someone was standing behind it. Mara shut off a moan. No! It wasn’t anything.

  A movement? Had her eyes caught a movement? Thoroughly frightened now, Mara dropped the curtain and hurried from the bedroom. It wasn’t until she tore a fingernail trying to lock an already locked kitchen window that she stopped herself.

  This was insane! She’d spent an hour talking to Rennie Chambers; her imagination was in high gear. Despite what she told herself earlier, and although she knew she might waken him, she would call Reed. Talking to him would calm her nerves. Then she would climb into bed and go back to sleep.

  Only, Reed wasn’t at the hotel. And what she wanted to tell him wasn’t something she could share with the woman at the switchboard.

  Mara had just let Lobo out and was heading toward the shower when she heard a car approaching. For a moment her middle-of-the-night thoughts ruled her, but this was morning. Sane, rational morning.

  And Reed was driving the car.

  Mara stood at the door, waiting for him. She hadn’t lost him after all. He hadn’t been lost to the night, to whatever it was that claimed him these days. Now all she had to do was keep him from learning that she’d spent the night half believing she’d never see him again. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  He jammed his hands into his back pockets and then pulled them out. “Seeing you.”

  “But—”

  Ignoring her disheveled hair and the short gown clinging to her body, Reed stepped forward and took her in his arms. There’d been no way he could contact her last night. None, damn it. He wouldn’t blame her if she gave up on him.

  But she let herself be held, and if she kissed him now, he could stop asking himself if she had regretted their weekend. Regretted ever meeting him. Her soft response supplied the necessary answer. Still, Reed held back. “Kline told me there was another supermarket abduction,” he said.

  “I know.”

  Reed ran his hand roughly up and down Mara’s back, warming her through her nightshirt. If he wasn’t careful she would sense his fear, and he had to be calm for her. He had to let her think—what? “You know?”

  Still holding on to him, Mara explained that Clint had made the connection. “I went to see the victim, Reed. He broke her wrist and she has a concussion.”

  “Was that wise? Going to see her, I mean?”

  “Wise? I’m glad I did. I think it helped her.”

  “Her?”

 
“Yes, of course. Why do you think I went?”

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t expect t. I hope she’s going to be all right. Mara, you’re shivering.”

  “Am I?” Her body tightened. When she took her next breath, the trembling stopped. “I was on my way to the shower, Reed. It’s cold standing around in a nightshirt.”

  Wondering if the cool morning air explained everything, Reed steered her toward the bathroom. Then he went into the kitchen to make breakfast. He’d found a cantaloupe and was cutting into it when he realized it had to be almost eighty degrees in the trailer. He unlocked a window and pushed it open. For a moment he stood leaning over the sink, one hand on the window, the other holding the cantaloupe.

  Forget Jack. Forget the insane assignment. Stay here.

  But he couldn’t.

  “You didn’t tell me,” Mara said when she returned. She wore jeans and one of her cotton shirts. She’d put on a little makeup. For him? “What were you doing seeing the detective?”

  Reed went back to looking for bowls to put the cantaloupe in. She was standing across the room, at the entrance to the kitchen, yet he could smell her shampoo and a hint of perfume. “Touching base. Getting some more information from the computer. Kline was there.” Reed didn’t add that he’d sought the detective out because he’d wanted to be told that Mara’s abductor had left the state.

  “What kind of information, Reed? Those people you’re dealing with, how many times have they been arrested?”

  “They haven’t. At least not most of them. But I’m not here to talk about them.” There was nothing left for him to do at the counter. “You’re all right? Damn it, Mara. He knows where you live.”

  Mara shrugged. She’d washed her hair, but hadn’t combed it yet. It lay close to her head, making her look young and small and in need of being held. Every nerve in him ached with the need to go to her and do exactly that, but she wasn’t closing the space now separating them. He had to respect that. “We’ve gone through this before, Reed.”

  Reed started to hand her a cup of coffee. He wanted to pretend they were nothing more than lovers sharing a few moments together. But they weren’t lovers. And what had brought him here… Shaken, Reed set down her cup and held out his hand. For a moment she simply stared at him. Then, her steps slow, she came into the light. Wordlessly, Reed folded her into his arms. He kissed her, or rather they kissed. The embrace lasted a long time and nearly stripped Reed of everything except wanting her. “When I heard—” he managed.

  “I’m sorry you had to.”

  Sorry? The word stung. “Tell me something. If I hadn’t found out, would you have mentioned it?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to call you last night. You weren’t in.”

  “You don’t know? Why not? Because I’m not important enough to tell.”

  “Stop it.” Mara pulled away and reached for her cup with a trembling hand. A little coffee slopped out, and she set it back down. “You have to know the answer to that.”

  “Do I? Look, I’m sorry.” He picked up a washrag and wiped the counter. This was insane. He sounded like a jealous lover. If he wasn’t careful, he’d push her away. “I had no business saying that. It’s just that when I heard…”

  “I understand,” she said softly, gifting him with one of her rare and beautiful smiles. “I felt the same way when Clint told me. But, what happened to that woman happened. My being shocked, either of us being shocked, isn’t going to change that.”

  He’s still around. That’s the issue. He’s still around. “No. I guess it isn’t. Look, all I could find was some bread and melon. Do you want more than toast?”

  “Toast is fine.” This time when Mara picked up her cup, there was no mishap. Her smile didn’t quite evolve into something he could take with him, but at least they were talking to each other. He knew better than to press.

  He also knew better than to take her in his arms again before he’d gotten himself back under control.

  There wasn’t time for anything except a shared meal before Reed had to leave. Because she asked, he explained that he was going to be shown a man’s private automobile collection today. The owner, who might be one of the ring’s financial backers, had a monumental ego. It was Reed’s job to feed that ego and thus gain the man’s confidence. He shook his head. “I don’t understand people like that. If it were me, I’d be keeping a low profile.”

  “That’s the problem. You aren’t a crook.”

  “That’s what makes this so hard, trying to second guess…” Reed trailed off. He didn’t want to talk about the blowhard he’d be spending the day with. He wanted—that was the problem—he didn’t dare put a name to what he needed.

  Mara wondered if she’d suddenly become the most popular woman in town. Not only did Clint hang around after work asking about her visit with the rape victim, but his parents called and admitted that Clint had told them what she’d been going through. She’d just hung up after accepting an invitation to join them for dinner the following night when the phone rang again.

  The connection from Paris wasn’t good, but Mara didn’t care. Rachael Curtis could hardly contain herself. She’d entered a cross-country motocross race and actually finished ahead of several younger women. Her shoulders felt as if she’d been beaten, but Mara was the only one she’d admit that to. Life was as hectic as ever, but Rachael needed to touch base with her daughter.

  Mark Curtis came on the line. “Your mother knows no modesty,” he said laughing. “You know, Paris is a fascinating place. All the history…”

  “You’ve been to Paris before,” Mara reminded him.

  “I know. I just never get tired of it. I’m bringing back a dress for you. A Paris original. I forget the name of the designer, but he must be famous. His clothes cost a bundle.”

  “What am I going to do with a dress that fancy?”

  “Wear it to your high school reunion.”

  Mara laughed. She wanted to know about her brothers. Had either of them gotten their heads out from under a car hood long enough to notice that there were such things as members of the opposite sex? Where did Mara think they were? Mark asked. Although several French women had been giving out less than subtle signals, her brothers were dating a couple of female members of a rival pit crew.

  “How are things going in your neck of the woods?” her father asked through the static. “Anything exciting?”

  “Exciting in reference to what?” Mara sidestepped. “I saw you on ESPN the other night. Cars do have brakes, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard. There’s no chance you can join us? I miss my number-one fan.”

  “Dad.”

  “I know. You’ve got better things to do than watch an old man, who doesn’t know enough to retire, make a fool of himself. Oh. I might have drummed up some business for you. Some folks on vacation, who learned we were from San Diego, took us out for dinner. Their son’s insurance is going through the roof. If he takes the course, I want a finder’s fee.”

  Again Mara laughed. She asked how her brothers’ cars were holding up and brought her father up-to-date on a new advertising angle she was trying. Then her mother came back on the line. “Men,” Rachael snorted. “They think the world revolves around work. Honey, you thought there might be a chance Clint could hold down the fort while you flew over here. There’s really no way you can get away?”

  “I don’t— Mom, things have gotten kind of complicated.”

  “Complicated?”

  She couldn’t tell her mother about being abducted, while a continent and an ocean separated them. “Maybe that’s not the right word,” she tried. “I, well, I’ve met someone.”

  “A man?”

  “Yes.” Mara sighed. “A man.”

  “At last! Are you going to tell me about him?”

  Where would she start? “I’ll write,” Mara promised. “I haven’t known him long. I don’t know where, if anywhere, this is headed.”

  “But you feel good when you’re aro
und him.”

  Oh yes. She felt good. And more confused than she had in her entire life. “He was a student,” she explained. “We spent last weekend together, just, you know, getting to know each other. Nothing happened.”

  “Did I ask? Honey, I’m delighted. Do try to take it slow, though. Find out everything you can about him before you fall in love. Otherwise you might wind up in as big a mess as I am with your father. Believe me, love makes a person lose every bit of sense they ever had. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t,” Mara assured her mother.

  After the phone call was over, Mara spent some time going over the latest stack of applications, but she couldn’t concentrate. She’d told her mother about Reed. Not enough, of course, because nothing made sense when it came to how she felt about him. But something. Maybe more than Reed had told Jack about her.

  Because doing anything that called for her brain seemed a lost cause right now, Mara got out the vacuum and cleaned a carpet that really didn’t need it. Then, still restless, she dusted. It was moving her family’s trophies that stopped her. In a few days her mother’s latest plaque would arrive. What would that bring the grand total to? Every member of the Curtis family had more than enough proof of their skill and courage and recklessness. Everyone but her.

  She was the one who couldn’t stop screaming when her father’s car burst into flames five years ago. It was she who slept with her dog in the room and her windows locked, and who’d tried to call Reed in the middle of the night when there wasn’t a thing he could have done.

  Although it would soon be dark, Mara stepped outside, slid into the Corvette and eased it onto the track. She turned on the headlights and stared out the window. If her family didn’t understand why she no longer watched them race, at least they respected her feelings enough to remain silent.

  But, did she respect herself?