9

You look exhausted,” Silver's glance was on Kerry's face as he drove through the gates of the estate four hours later. “And you haven't said a word since we left Marionville.”

“What is there to say? We lost him.”

“But you didn't expect to even have a chance at him. Think positive: You did what you set out to do. You became more familiar with the son of a bitch's psyche. That kind of concentration might even have helped you to increase your distance capability of contact. Those woods were pretty far away.”

“Distance capability. Lord, you sound scientific.” She shook her head. “I know you're trying to encourage me, but I can't think bright and happy thoughts right now. I'm too close to that poison that Trask was slinging at me.” She opened the door as he stopped before the front entrance. “Maybe tomorrow. Right now I'm not seeing how much progress I might have made. All I can remember is how it felt to stand there and have Trask ripping me with his venom and to know I didn't have any control. I couldn't fight back. I was just a damn vessel.” She started up the front steps. “And I'm remembering that you could have helped me and you didn't. If you'd done what you promised, I might have had a chance to be something besides a whipping boy for him.” She opened the door. “So, if you don't mind, leave me the hell alone for a while.”

“For a while,” he said quietly. “Not for long, Kerry.”

She slammed the door behind her and headed for the staircase. No, he wouldn't leave her alone. She was too valuable. He needed her. But that need had to be satisfied his way. He had to be the one in control. Well, she'd had enough of being—

The house was curiously silent, she realized suddenly. Where was George? She'd become accustomed to having him pop out of the library with one of his dry comments. He'd become a welcome buffer between her and Silver.

Maybe it was just as well he'd absented himself. She wasn't in the mood for humor, dry or otherwise. She just wanted to go to bed and not think of Trask or that poor Krazky family or her own sense of helplessness.

She had kicked off her shoes and was unbuttoning her blouse when her cell phone rang.

Probably Jason. He'd called two nights ago to tell her that Laura would be leaving the hospital soon, and she'd asked him to phone when they were settled at the hotel.

“Kerry?”

Her hand tightened on the phone. Her father was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. “Hello. What a surprise.”

“It shouldn't be a surprise.” Ron Murphy's tone was faintly sardonic. “I asked Jason to tell you I wanted to see you. He told me you were going through a bad patch.”

“It's Jason who's been having a bad time. I'm fine.”

“That's what you always said. Every time I tried to help, you closed up on me.”

“As I recall, the last time you tried to help, I ended up in Milledgeville.”

“For God's sake, you were—I thought it for the best.” He drew a deep breath. “Let it go, Kerry. Life's too short to hold grudges. I've found that out lately.”

“I'm not holding a grudge. I'm just wary.” This conversation was becoming unbearably painful. It had to end. “Why did you call?”

“You're my daughter. Isn't it reasonable I'd want to make sure you're safe and well?” When she didn't answer, he paused. “And that fire at Jason's house was . . . unusual.”

She stiffened. “Do you think I set it? My God, I love Jason.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You're jumping to conclusions. I never said anything about—”

“But isn't it what you'd expect from a nutcase? Isn't that why you put me away?”

“I put you away because I wanted to get you well. And I know you'd never intentionally hurt Jason or Laura.”

“Intentionally?”

“I've been nosing around, and there's no doubt the fire was arson. But other than that fact, I haven't been able to discover anything else. The lid's been closed down tight and no one's talking. Then I hear that you're taking an extended leave from your job and are out of town. Now, I know damn well you'd rather be close to Jason and Laura at this time. So what's happening, Kerry?”

“What do you think is happening?”

“I think you might be getting into something that might prove dangerous. I ask myself why an arsonist would wait to burn down Jason's house until the night you came.”

“And what did you answer?”

“You deal with crazies all the time. Maybe one came out of the woodwork and decided to get even. But that doesn't tell me why the arson investigation has been put under wraps. Or who did it.”

“And all your journalistic contacts are coming up with no info? How frustrating for you.”

“It's more than frustrating. For God's sake, I won't be shut out of this, Kerry.” A hint of anger layered his voice. “Jason is my son and I was looking forward to being a grandfather. I'm mad as hell and I want to find out who did this. I think you may know who it is. Tell me, dammit.”

“So much for calling to make sure I'm safe.” She interrupted wearily when he started to speak. “I don't blame you. Why should you be worried about me? We're not even on the same wavelength. Never have been. And I think you're probably telling the truth about your concern for Jason.”

“Thank you,” he said sarcastically. “I'm glad you believe I have some human feelings.”

She had never doubted he could feel affection. She had just never been able to reach out and touch him. And after Milledgeville it was the last thing she wanted to do. “Jason and Laura are safe. I made sure of that. I'm safe too. Stay out of it.”

“The hell I will. Where are you?”

“Stay out of it,” she repeated, and hung up.

Christ, that had been difficult. She felt raw and hurt and angry, as she always did after she talked to her father, and tonight she hadn't needed that additional aggravation. Close it away. Don't think about him.

She half expected to hear the phone ring again. As a father, Ron Murphy might be hesitant. As an investigative reporter, he had no such compunction. And he wanted to protect his son and get to the bottom of the fire that had hurt him.

The phone didn't ring.

Good. Now go to bed and forget about him and all the memories he had resurrected. He was no longer important in her life. The only problem he might pose was getting in the way of her finding Trask.

Go to bed and forget him. . . .

You never forget him. He's always there.” Silver was leaning against the weeping willow tree beside the lake. “Because you refuse to deal with him.”

“The hell I do. What do you know about—” She stiffened in shock, her gaze circling the all-too-familiar scene. “What the devil are you doing to me?”

“You know what I'm doing. What you asked me to do.” He looked out over the lake. “I didn't really want to use this scenario, because I was afraid it would bring unpleasant memories, but you gave me no choice. It was either this or barge in and risk doing damage.”

“Damage?”

“You weren't ready. Two days' infiltration wasn't enough. I needed much more. But you're so resentful now that I can't wait any longer.”

“Infiltration.” She repeated the word as if it had a bitter taste. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Your mind has too much resistance. I had to slide in on the sly and undermine the barriers.” He smiled. “Even now it's going to be an uphill battle.”

“On the sly.” Her lips tightened as she worked it out. “You broke your promise.”

“I didn't break it. I was invited, remember?”

“I didn't expect—For the past four days you've been—You didn't give me warning, dammit. I was willing to let you help me, but it's not fair of you to—” She drew a deep breath. “What have you been doing to me?”