Part 7 (1/2)
”Let me see. Imagine you're paddling a canoe in a river and you want to get to a certain spot on sh.o.r.e but the current keeps pulling you away. And no matter how hard you paddle, you can't get to sh.o.r.e. As a matter of fact, the current keeps pulling you further and further away. How would you feel?”
”I'd feel scared.”
Kara laughed and hugged her daughter. ”I guess you would!”
And maybe I'm scared, too.
Scared because she couldn't get a handle on what had been happening in her twin's life. Kelly had become an enigma. Kara had more questions about her now than before. Except for the hidden clothing, everything Kara had found was so d.a.m.ned ordinary. She had spent much of the afternoon going through Kelly's papers. Her sister, it seemed, was a scrupulous record keeper. Kara had found a copy of her apartment lease, the warranties and instruction manuals on all her appliances, and a s...o...b..x crammed with receipts for what looked like every single purchase she had made last year. Kelly, it appeared, was preparing to do her taxes. But nowhere was there a single receipt for the s.e.xy clothes Kara had found.
She kept receipts for toothpaste toothpaste, d.a.m.n it! Why wasn't there one for that new leather skirt under the dresser?
Why was the sleazy part of Kelly's existence so rigidly walled off, so tightly compartmentalized from the rest of her life? Who was she hiding it from?
Kara had always thought she knew her twin. Now she wondered if she had known Kelly at all.
But there was someone who might at least know something: the Dr. Gates on the label of Kelly's sleeping pills. Kara had called the drug store on the label and the pharmacist had told her that the prescription had come from a Dr. Lawrence Gates, a psychiatrist in Chelsea. Kara hadn't been that surprised at the specialty. Maybe he was just what Kelly had needed. Getting to him was the first thing on Kara's list of things to do tomorrow.
Tomorrow. She hated the idea of staying overnight in the city, but couldn't see any alternative. Silly to waste a couple of hours each way fighting the traffic in and out every day. For years Aunt Ellen had been asking her to come and stay with her for a few nights. This time Kara would take her up on it. No rush to finish up here. She could take her time. Kelly's check book showed that her rent was paid up to the end of the month.
”Come on,” she told Jill. ”It's taco time.”
As she led Jill out through the front door of Kelly's apartment building into the chilly twilight, she almost b.u.mped into a man standing on the front steps.
”Very sorry,” he said with the start of a smile.
Kara was about to smile in return and excuse herself when she noticed his eyes widening in shock and the color bleaching from his cold-reddened cheeks.
”My G.o.d! It's you!” he cried. ”Dear sweet Jesus, it's you! You're alive!”
Startled, Kara clutched Jill against her and pressed back against the building's front door which had closed and latched behind her.
”What's he saying, Mom?” Jill cried. Kara could hear the terror in her voice. ”What's he saying?”
Kara didn't answer. Her mind was racing, trying to recall the various options she had been taught in her women's self-defense courses. But she'd been poised and ready in those cla.s.ses, and standing on a padded gymnasium floor. This was on a set of stone steps with a child clinging to her.
But the man didn't seem to be threatening them. More confused and frightened than anything else. And he was backing down the steps, away from them. Well dressed, like a fortyish yuppie, but that didn't mean he couldn't be a nut case. Kara decided to hurry him on his way.
”I don't know what your problem is, buster,” she said in her toughest voice, ”but you'd better take it somewhere else! And quick!”
At the bottom of the steps he stopped and squinted up at her. He seemed to regain some of his composure.
”I... I'm terribly sorry,” he said. His voice was quavering. ”For a moment there I thought you were someone else. But I see you're not. Your hair is straighter and...” His voice trailed off. ”You're just not her.”
A thought struck Kara.
”You knew my sister?”
The man suddenly seemed very tense, as if he were preparing to run away.
”Sister?”
”Yes. Kelly Wade.”
The man glanced around, looking indecisive. Then he took a deep breath and looked directly at Kara.
”Yes. I knew her. It's just terrible about her... about what happened to her.”
”Did you know her well?”
”No. Just a little. Hardly at all.”
Kara's hopes fell. This fellow wasn't going to be any help.
”Do you live here?” she asked.
”Uh, no. I was just coming by to, uh, see if there was any family around so that I could express my condolences.”
”I'm family.”
”Yeah. I can tell.” He managed a quick, nervous smile. ”You could be her twin.”
”I am.”
Another quick smile, little more than a flicker. ”No wonder. The resemblance is spooky.”
”And this is my daughter, Kelly's niece.”
”How do you do,” he said to Jill, and Kara immediately liked him for speaking directly to the child. ”I'm terribly sorry about what happened to your sister,” he told Kara. ”I... I wish there was something I could say.”
An idea occurred to Kara. This fellow seemed like a harmless sort, and genuinely upset by Kelly's death. He was the only person Kara had met today who knew Kelly; maybe he could give her some insight into her sister's life in New York before the end.
”We were just going out for a bite to eat. Want to come along?”
As long as they stayed in a public place like a restaurant, what harm was there?
”Oh, no,” he said, quickly. ”I've got to be going.”
”Okay,” Kara said and started down the steps with Jill at her side. ”Good night, then.”
They were on the sidewalk and on their way to the corner when he trotted up behind them.
”Maybe just for a few minutes.”
”Fine,” said Kara. She held out her hand. ”I'm Kara Wade, by the way.”
He shook it and seemed to fumble for his own name.
”Ed,” he said finally, ”Ed Bannion.”