Mirror Image

“I got some asshole on the phone who didn’t want to be bothered. He said that following the crash, things were so chaotic just about anything was possible.”

Like mixing up bodies? Van wondered.

He wanted to ask that question, but didn’t. Irish was coping as best he could with Avery’s death, and he still wasn’t doing very well. He didn’t need to hear Van’s harebrained hypothesis. Besides, even if it were possible, it made no sense. If Avery were alive, she’d be living her life, not somebody else’s.

So he hadn’t broached the possibility with Irish. His imagination had run amok, that’s all. He’d compiled a bunch of creepy coincidences and shaped them into an outlandish, illogical theory.

Irish would probably have said that his brains were fried from doing too much dope, which was probably the truth. He was nothing but a bum—a washout. A reprobate. What the fuck did he know?

But he loaded another of the Rutledge tapes into the V

CR anyway.

* * *

The first scream woke her. The second registered. The third prompted her to throw off the covers and scramble out of bed.

Avery grabbed a robe, flung open the door to her bedroom, and charged down the hall toward Mandy’s room. Within seconds of leaving her bed, she was bending over the child’s. Mandy was thrashing her limbs and screaming.

“Mandy, darling, wake up.” Avery dodged a flailing fist.

“Mandy?”

Tate materialized on the other side of the bed. He dropped to his knees on the rug and tried to restrain his daughter. Once he had captured her small hands, her body bucked and twisted while her head thrashed on the pillow and her heels pummeled the mattress. She continued to scream.

Avery placed her hands on Mandy’s cheeks and pressed hard. “Mandy, wake up. Wake up, darling. Tate, what should we do?”

“Keep trying to wake her up.”

“Is she having another nightmare?” Zee asked as she and Nelson rushed in. Zee moved behind Tate. Nelson stood at the foot of his granddaughter’s bed.

“We could hear her screams all the way in our wing,” he said. “Poor little thing.”

Avery slapped Mandy’s cheeks lightly. “It’s Mommy. Mommy and Daddy are here. You’re safe, darling. You’re safe.”

Eventually, the screams subsided. As soon as she opened her eyes, she launched herself into Avery’s waiting arms. Avery gathered her close and cupped the back of her head, pressing the tear-drenched face into her neck. Mandy’s shoulders shook; her whole body heaved with sobs.

“My God, I had no idea it was this bad.”

“She had them nearly every night while you were still in the hospital,” Tate told her. “Then they started tapering off. She hasn’t had one for several weeks. I was hoping that once you got home they would stop altogether.” His face was drawn with concern.

“Is there anything you want us to do?”

Tate glanced at Nelson. “No. I think she’ll calm down now and go back to sleep, Dad, but thanks.”

“You two need to put a stop to this. Immediately.” He took Zee’s arm and propelled her toward the door. She seemed reluctant to leave and looked at Avery anxiously.

“She’ll be all right,” Avery said, rubbing Mandy’s back. She was still hiccuping sobs, but the worst was over.

“Sometimes they come back,” Zee said uneasily.

“I’ll stay with her for the rest of the night.” When she and Tate were left alone with the child, Avery said, “Why didn’t you tell me her nightmares were this severe?”

He sat down in the rocking chair near the bed. “You had your own problems to deal with. The dreams stopped happening with such regularity, just like the psychologist predicted they would. I thought she was getting over them.”

“I still should have known.”

Avery continued to hold Mandy tight against her, rocking back and forth and murmuring reassurances. She wouldn’t let go until Mandy indicated that she was ready. Eventually, she raised her head.