按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃Where？〃
He shook his head。 〃I'll be damned if I know。 But there's something familiar about her face。〃
Throughout Tuesday afternoon； Grace expected the phone to ring again。
She dreaded having to answer it。
She tried to work off her nervous energy by cleaning the house。 She scrubbed the kitchen floor； dusted the furniture in every room； and swept all the carpets。
But she couldn't stop thinking about the call： the paper…dry； echo…distorted voice that had sounded like Leonard； the odd things he had said； the eerie silence when he had finished speaking； the disquieting sense of vast distances； an unimaginable gulf of space and time。
It had to be a hoax。 But who could be responsible for it？ And why torment her with an imitation of Leonard's voice； eighteen years after the man had died？ What was the point of playing games like this now； after so much time had passed？
She tried to get her mind off the call by baking apple dumplings。 Thick； crusty dumplings…served with cinnamon； milk； and just a bit of sugar…were a suppertime favorite of hers； for she had been born and raised in Lancaster； the heart of the Pennsylvania Dutch country； where that dish was considered a meal in itself。 But Tuesday evening； she had no appetite； not even for dumplings。 She ate a few bites； but she couldn't even finish half of one dumpling； though she usually ate two whole ones in a single meal。
She was still picking disinterestedly at her food when the telephone rang。
Her head jerked up。 She stared at the wall phone that was above the small； built…in desk beside the refrigerator。
It rang again。 And again。
Trembling； she got up； went to the phone； and lifted the receiver。
〃Gracie。 。
The voice was faint but intelligible。
〃Gracie。 。 。 it's almost too late。〃
It was him。 Leonard。 Or someone who sounded exactly like Leonard had sounded。
She couldn't respond to him。 Her throat clutched tight。
〃Gracie。。 。〃
Her legs seemed to be melting under her。 She
pulled out the chair that was tucked into the kneehole
of the desk； and she sat down quickly。
〃Gracie。 。 。 stop it from happening again。 It mustn't。 。 。 go on forever。。 。 time after time。 。 。 the blood。 。 。 the murder。 。 。〃
She closed her eyes； forced herself to speak。 Her voice was weak； quavery。 She didn't even recognize it as her own。 It was the voice of a stranger…a weary； frightened； frail old woman。 〃Who is this？〃
The whispery； vibrative voice on the telephone said； 〃Protect her； Oracle。〃
〃What do you want from me？〃
〃Protect her。〃
〃Why are you doing this？〃
〃Protect her。〃
〃Protect who？〃 she demanded。
〃Willa。 Protect Willa。〃
She was still frightened and confused； but she was beginning to be angry； too。 〃I don't know anyone named Willa； dammit！ Who is this？〃
〃Leonard。〃
〃No！ Do you think I'm a doddering； senile old fool？ Leonard's dead。 Eighteen years！ You're not Leonard。 What kind of game are you playing？〃
She wanted to hang up on him； and she knew that was the best thing to do with a crank like this； but she couldn't make herself put down the receiver。 He sounded so much like Leonard that she was mesmerized by his voice。
He spoke again； much softer than before； but she could still hear him。 〃Protect Willa。〃
〃I tell you； I don't know her。 And if you keep calling me with this nonsense； I'm going to tell the police that some sick practical joker is…〃
〃Carol。 。 。 Carol；〃 the man said； his voice fading syllable by syllable。 〃Willa。 。 。 but you call her。 。 。 Carol。〃
〃What the hell is going on here？〃
〃Beware。。 。the。 。 。cat。〃
〃What？〃
The voice was so distant now that she had to strain to hear it。 〃The 。。 。 cat 。。。〃
〃Aristophanes？ What about him？ Have you done something to him？ Have you poisoned him？ Is that what's been wrong with him lately〃
No response。
〃Are you there〃
Nothing。
〃What about the cat？〃 she demanded。
No answer。
She listened to the pure； pure silence； and she began to tremble so violently that she had trouble holding the phone。 〃Who are you？ Why do you want to torment me like this？ Why do you want to hurt Aristophanes？〃
Far； far away； the achingly familiar voice of her long…dead husband uttered a few final； barely audible words。 〃Wish。 。 。1 was there。。 。 for the。。 。 apple dumplings。〃
***
They had forgotten to buy pajamas for Jane。 She went to bed in knee socks； panties； and one of Carol's T…shirts； which was a bit large for her。
〃What happens tomorrow？〃 she asked when she was tucked in； her head raised on a plump pillow。
Carol sat on the edge of the bed。 〃I thought we might start a program of treatment designed to pry open your memory。〃
〃What kind of treatment？〃
〃Do you know what hypnotic regression therapy is？〃
Jane was suddenly frightened。 Several times since the accident； she had made a conscious； concerted effort to remember who she was； but on each occasion； as she felt herself ing close to a disturbing revelation； she had bee dizzy； disoriented； and panicky。 When she pressed her mind back； back； back toward the truth； a psychological defense mechanism cut off her curiosity as abruptly as a strangler's garrote might have cut off her air supply。 And every time； on the edge of unconsciousness； she saw a strange； silvery object swinging back and forth through blackness； an utterly indecipherable yet blood…chilling vision。 She sensed there was something hideous in her past； something so terrible that she would be better off no： remembering。 She had just about made up her mind not to seek what had been lost； to accept her new life as a nameless orphan； even though it might be filled with hardships。 But through hypnotic regression therapy； she could be forced to confront the specter in her past； whether she wanted to or not。 That prospect filled her with dread。
〃Are you all right？〃 Carol asked。
The girl blinked； licked her lips。 〃Yeah。 I was just thinking about what you said。 Hypnotic regression。 Does that mean you're going to put me in a trance and make me remember everything？〃
〃Well； it isn't that easy； honey。 There's no guarantee it'll work。 I'll hypnotize you and ask you to think back to the accident on Thursday morning； then I'll nudge you further and further into the past。 If you're a good subject； you might remember who you are and where you e from。 Hypnotic regression is a tool that es in handy sometimes when I'm trying to get a patient to relive a deeply hidden； severely regressed trauma。 I've never used the technique on an amnesia victim； but I know it's applicable to a case like yours。 Of course； it only works about half the time。 And when it does work； it takes more than one or two sessions。 It can be a tedious； frustrating process。 We're not going to get much of anywhere tomorrow； and in fact your parents will probably show up before I've been able to help you remember。 But we might as well make a start。 That is； if it's all right with you。〃
She didn't want Carol to know that she was afraid to remember； so she said； 〃Oh； sure！ It sounds fascinating。〃
〃I've got four patients scheduled for tomorrow； but I can work you in at eleven o'clock。 You'll have to spend a lot of time in the waiting room； before and af