THE COVE. Catherine Coulter

“I thought of that. I’d rather take that risk than stay here. He knows I’m here, James, you know that. I can’t just stay here and wait for him to come and take me. That’s what he said. He said soon he’d be here for me.”

“I was reading a newspaper when Martha came in all worried and told Thelma about a woman calling you, a woman you said wasn’t a woman but your father. She said you were really distressed. She didn’t understand why you’d be so upset to hear from your father. I knew you’d probably try to run, that’s why I’m here, having you crush me into the ground.”

She sat there on the ground next to him, rubbing her ankle, just shaking her head. “I’m not crazy.”

“I know that,” he said patiently. “There’s an explanation. That’s why you’re not going to run away. Now that’s crazy.”

She came up on her knees, leaning toward him, her hands grasping his jacket lapels. “Listen to me, James. It was my father. No fake, no imitation. It was my father. Amabel said it could have been a man disguising his voice

as a woman’s if I hadn’t been the one to answer the phone. Then she turned around and told me how much strain I’d been under. In other words, I’m crazy.”

He took her hands in his, just held them, saying nothing. Then he spoke. “As I said, there’s always an explanation. It probably was a man. We’ll find out. If it wasn’t, if it truly was a woman who asked for you, then we’ll deal with that too. Trust me, Sally.”

She sat back. Her ankle had stopped throbbing. Maybe it wasn’t sprained after all.

“Tell me something.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think someone could be trying to gaslight you?”

What did he know? She searched his face for the lie, for knowledge, but saw none of it.

“Is it possible? Could someone be trying to make you crazy? Make you doubt your sanity?”

She looked down at her clasped hands, at her fingernails. She realized that she hadn’t chewed her nails since she’d been in The Cove. No, since she’d met him. They didn’t look so ragged. She said finally, not looking at him, because it was awful, what she was, what she had been, perhaps what she still was today, right now. “Why?”

“I’d have to say that someone’s afraid of you, afraid of what you might possibly know. This someone wants to eliminate you from the game, so to speak.” He paused, looking toward the ocean, fancying he could hear the crashing waves, but he couldn’t, Amabel’s cottage was just a bit too far for that. “The question is why this someone would go this route. You’re about the sanest person I know, Sally. Who could possibly think he could make you believe you were nuts?”

She loved him for that. Loved him without reservation, without any question. She gave him a big grin. It came from the deepest part of her, a place that had been empty for so long she’d forgotten that it was possible to feel this good, this confident in herself, and in someone else.

“I was nuts,” she said, still grinning, feeling the incredible relief of telling someone the truth, of telling him. “At least that’s what they wanted everyone to believe. They kept me drugged up for six months until I finally got it together enough to hide the medication under my tongue and not swallow it. The nurse always forced my mouth open and ran her fingers all inside to make sure I’d taken the pills. I don’t know how I managed to keep the pill hidden, but I did. I did it for two days, until I was together enough. Then I escaped. And then I got the ring off my finger and threw it in a ditch.”

He knew she’d been in a sanitarium, a very expensive posh little resort sanitarium in Maryland. All very private. But this? She’d been a prisoner? Drugged to her gills?

He looked at her for a long time. Her smile faltered. He just shook his head at her, cupped her face in his hand, and said, “How would you like to come back to Thelma’s place and share my tower room with me? I’ll take the sofa and you can have the bed. I won’t make any moves on you, I swear. We can’t just sit here for the rest of the night. It’s damp and I don’t want either of us to get sick.”

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