You Don't Want To Know - By Lisa Jackson Page 0,24

Wyatt’s hand on her elbow, walked away from the park, heading toward the bay.

Ava stood frozen to the spot.

Her heart drummed in her chest as she watched the couple leave. Wyatt’s head bent low under the umbrella, and his fingers never left the crook of Evelyn McPherson’s elbow. It was almost as if he were shepherding her along the wet sidewalk, as if he had some proprietary claim to his wife’s doctor.

What did that mean? She barely noticed the steady drip of the rain or a teenager who whipped by her, sending up spray from a puddle.

It’s nothing, she told herself. Nothing.

Yet she was left with the same cold feeling of suspicion that had been with her since leaving the hospital, that everyone she knew wasn’t as he or she pretended to be. Not even her own husband.

Fortunately, Wyatt had been so wrapped up in Dr. McPherson that he hadn’t noticed his bedraggled wife standing in the rain. Which was just as well. It was far better if no one had any idea about what she was doing on the mainland.

They already thought she was nuts as it was.

If anyone on the island realized she had started seeing a hypnotist, there would be no end to the questions and raised eyebrows.

Trouble was, she didn’t really blame them.

Even to her own troubled mind, it sounded lame.

CHAPTER 6

Once she was satisfied that Wyatt and the good doctor were out of sight, Ava tossed her coffee cup and its cold remains into a nearby trash can, then hiked the remaining three blocks to her hypnotist’s studio.

Telling herself it meant nothing that Wyatt was meeting with her doctor, that she had to have a little faith, she hurried down the curved steps to the basement level, then paused at the door of the rambling Victorian home. Once owned by a timber baron, it had been cut into several apartments and was now owned by Cheryl Reynolds, a fiftyish woman who claimed to have a “gift” to not only be able to hypnotize her clients, but also, for a few extra dollars, predict their future.

You’ve never been one to believe in hocus-pocus or parlor games or hypnosis, have you? Remember going to the state fair and seeing a hypnotist with volunteers from the audience, how they all appeared to sleep, then got up and stomped around, then flapped their arms as if they were chickens? Is that what you want? The first time, this didn’t work, right? But still you’re back here, hoping for what? Answers about your son? Repressed memories brought to the surface?

Ava’s shoulders tightened. She felt a cool breath of wind tugging on her hair and remembered the dream, how real it had been, then yesterday seeing Noah on the dock.

She pressed the buzzer.

Two of Cheryl’s stray cats watched from their perches in the retaining wall as Ava waited, second-guessing herself.

Half a minute later, the door opened.

“Ava, so good to see you,” Cheryl said as she motioned Ava inside.

Barely five feet, Cheryl hid her curves with a tie-dyed caftan, and her blond curls were banded away from her round face, which was creased with worry. No doubt the story of Ava’s latest crazy dive into the bay had reached her ears, too, through the coffee shops and tearooms of the town. “So, tell me,” she insisted as soft music whispered through the hallways and the scent of incense couldn’t quite mask the thin, sharp odors of mildew and cat urine. “How are you?”

“I keep saying I’m fine, but of course . . .”

“You’re not.”

“It’s the dreams again. I know it sounds crazy, impossible, but I see him. I see my baby.” She fought to keep her voice from cracking when she thought of Noah.

Cheryl patted her arm. “Come on in. Let’s see what we can do.” Waving for Ava to follow, Cheryl led her through a series of connecting rooms to her studio, a converted bedroom painted an icy gray that reminded Ava of the sea in winter. “You can have a seat in the recliner, or if you prefer, the couch.” She paused to light a candle.

This was Ava’s second visit. The first stab at hypnosis hadn’t been all that effective; at least there had been no major breakthroughs, no startling revelations that had helped Ava understand her own troubled mind.

Yet, she was back.

Still restless. Still searching.

She forced herself to settle into the oversized La-Z-Boy and raised the footrest. As she closed her eyes, she felt the warmth of a cozy