“Okay, so how’re you feeling now?” he asked, giving her a quick glance as he fired the engine and wheeled out of the lot.
“Like someone took a jackhammer to my jaw.”
“That good, huh?” He pressed on the lighter, then eased a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Yep, that good.” She couldn’t rouse a smile. His attitude rankled and the fact that she suspected he and Robertson were keeping something from her grated on her nerves. Worse yet, his attitude of stewardship—spousal concern when he was always away—bugged the hell out of her. Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t her imagination, but she was too tired to figure it out tonight.
The lighter clicked and he lit up, sending a cloud of smoke into the car’s interior. With a push of a finger, the driver’s window slid down and a gush of rain-washed air slipped inside. Smooth jazz played from the speakers as he eased the car into the late night traffic and the Jaguar sped up a steep hill.
The lights of the city burned in the surrounding skyscrapers. In the distance she recognized the historic district of Jackson Square and the Transamerica pyramid. As she’d seen it a hundred times before. And there was more . . . a flash . . .
In her mind’s eye she saw herself at a desk, in a huge steel and glass office building. A computer monitor hummed, a telephone jangled and in the cubicles surrounding hers, other workers were on phones, at keyboards, staring into monitors. A bank of windows on one wall opened up to a view of the San Francisco skyline and a cerulean sky that stretched over the Bay.
But that was crazy. She wasn’t an office worker. Never had been. Huddled in the far corner of the Jag she looked at her husband, his face grim and set in the glare of oncoming headlights.
“Was there ever a time when I worked?” she asked, knowing the answer before he even said a word.
Alex gave off a deprecatory snort. “You? Come on.”
“I mean it.”
“Of course not. Why would you work?”
“I don’t know, I just had a vision of myself at a desk . . . in a loud, open room separated by half walls and filled with other workers, men and women bustling by, all wearing suits. . . .” Her voice faded and she rubbed her temple as she tried to remember.
“Marla, you’ve never worked a day in your life,” he said and chuckled as if the thought were incredibly amusing. “You’ve been in dozens of office buildings, of course, but never as an employee.”
“You’re certain?” she asked. Why would she dream this?
“Positive.” Some of the lines in his face softened in the dark interior. “You’re imagining things.”
Or paranoid. Not much difference.
“Why didn’t you tell Tom or Mother or someone that you weren’t feeling well?” he asked, touching her lightly on the knee. “That’s why I hired the nurse in the first place, you know.” Alex braked at a red light and sent her a look that silently accused her of being a fool.
“I didn’t think it was anything.”
“But you were sick when you went to bed?”
“It wasn’t that bad and then . . .” She hesitated. Could she trust him?
“Then what?”
Go on. He’s your husband. “This sounds so nuts,” she said, but decided if she couldn’t trust the man she was married to, she couldn’t trust anyone. “I think someone was in my room tonight.”
“Who? One of the servants?”
“No, Alex, there was a man leaning over the bed and he said, ‘Die, bitch!’ ”
“What?” His head whipped in her direction and the car eased over the center line. A sharp honk blasted from the next lane. Alex got control of the car again. “Christ, Marla, what do you mean there was an intruder in the house?”
“Just that.” She told him the entire story and he gripped the wheel as if he wanted to tear it from the dash. “. . . I was so damned scared that I checked every unlocked room. I think I really freaked Cissy out, but once I was sure that everything was all right, that the kids were safe, I calmed down a little. I drank some water and went back to bed. The next thing I knew I was vomiting my guts out.” She slid down in her seat, pressing her back against the passenger window and felt a chill as cold as death.
“Jesus, Marla, who did you think was in the room with you?” Alex sucked hard on his cigarette, the tip glowed bright in the darkness.
“I don’t know . . . I’m not sure anyone was there . . . but it seemed real at the time.”
The light turned green. Someone honked behind them.