Her eyes looked into mine.
“Tom Malory is my name. I hope you don’t mind my pulling up a chair and speaking with you,” I said.
“She hears you okay,” the black woman said. “She’s got an awful lot of medicine in her right now. I’m going over here and let y’all talk. I’ll be here if you need anything. My name is Clementine.”
I got a folding chair and sat down in front of Rosita, the clipboard on my knees. “I’m going to get you out of here,” I said.
I saw a light come into her eyes, the beginnings of a smile. Her lips moved without sound.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I said. “Nod to show me you understand.”
She didn’t nod, but she blinked.
“Did they give you shock treatment?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“We’re not going to let them,” I said.
“Weldon,” she whispered down in her throat.
“Yes?”
“Weldon,” she repeated.
“Tell me. What is it?”
“I love you,” she whispered.
I could hardly restrain myself from reaching out and touching her hand. I knew as soon as I did, someone would realize I was not who I claimed to be.
“Linda Gail and Hershel know where we are,” I said. “They’ll do everything they can to help us. But you and I will be the ones to get ourselves out of here. That means we have to be good actors. Do you understand? I’m Mr. Malory. That’s the only name I have.”
Her eyes became sleepy again, her head sinking, although it was obvious she was trying to concentrate. At that moment I wanted to kill the entire Wiseheart family.
Clementine approached us. “She needs to go back to the room,” she said.
“Can I see her again this afternoon?”
“Better ask Mrs. Penbrook. I expect she’ll say it’s okay.”
I asked Clementine to step away from the wheelchair with me. “Is Mrs. Holland scheduled for electroshock treatment?” I said.
“I don’t have anything to do with that. They got her on the second floor.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The second floor is for people that’s depressed real bad. That might kill themselves. I’ll be taking her back now.”
I lingered on the lawn in the cold sunshine, the wind like dry ice on my face. I studied the parking lot, the security fence around it, the uniformed guard in the booth by the entrance. How would I get a vehicle inside? How would I get Rosita into the vehicle? The problem seemed insoluble. I glanced up at the second story of the sanitarium and saw Rosita’s face in a window. Her breath had crystallized into icy white flowers on the glass. I don’t think I will ever forget that image.
I HAD TOLD LINDA Gail and Hershel where I would be. When I returned to the hotel, the clerk took a message out of the key box and handed it to me. Linda Gail wanted me to call her. She didn’t say why. If there was a tap on her phone, whoever had installed it would know the city I was calling from and figure out the rest of it. But I couldn’t ignore her message. She was an intelligent woman and wouldn’t have asked me to call unless something important had happened. I walked down the street and used a pay phone; at least I wouldn’t give away the name of the hotel.
She answered on the second ring. “How’s our friend doing?” she said.
“About the same,” I said. She had not mentioned Rosita’s name. I felt better about phoning her.
“Roy would like to talk with you.”