Child Of The Night Read online

  “‘It’s just a little way,’ she told me. ‘I want chocolate ice cream.’

  “When we came across a Frosty Freeze a couple of miles down the road, Lynette was convinced that Cassie had ‘seen’ the place before we got there.”

  “But you don’t think she did.”

  “No, I think she must have seen a billboard and recognized the Frosty Freeze logo. Not an unbelievable feat for a precocious three-year-old.”

  “Did you go back and check for such a sign?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He looked completely surprised at the question. “It never entered my mind. I have more sense than to put magical connotations on happenings that are nothing more than slightly unusual. I didn’t think the incident was important and I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  “Were you afraid that Cassie might indeed possess psychic powers that would make her different? Could your daughter sense that you wouldn’t be pleased if she showed this kind of behavior?” Before Tyla could catch herself, she added, “A child soon learns to protect herself. Keeping silent or lying about experiences that no one else seems to understand. Unfortunately unusual or unique behavior is often an invitation for ridicule, even in her own family. It’s not easy for a child to be unlike everyone else. She…she can have a difficult time of it.” To her consternation, Tyla found herself flushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect something of a personal nature in your tone, Doctor?”

  Tyla silently cursed herself for letting her own feelings seep into the interview. He was too damn perceptive. She managed to give him a noncommittal smile. “It’s against the rules for a therapist to answer personal questions. Now, let’s get back to Cassie. Do you have any idea what triggered Cassie’s outburst this evening?” She reached over and picked up her tablet and pen. Either he didn’t notice or was more relaxed about her note taking than he’d been earlier.

  He touched his hand thoughtfully along his chin. “I don’t think she wanted me to see you again.”

  “Why not?”

  “If I knew the reason, I probably wouldn’t have come,” he answered bluntly. Then he shrugged. “I got the impression that Cassie wanted to protect you…from me.”

  “Protect?” echoed Tyla. Had the child been aware of the dark presentiment that had assaulted Tyla as she watched them leave that afternoon?

  He leaned forward. “Are you afraid of me, Doctor? Is that apprehension flickering in those gray-blue eyes? You’re holding your pen much too tightly for easy writing.” He reached over to cover her free hand with his. The corners of his mouth eased into a slight smile as he let his fingertips slip to her wrist. “Definitely a quickened pulse.”

  His touch radiated heat that she suspected might be seeping up into her cheeks again. She knew that in another moment she’d lose control of the interview. Better to pretend that she considered his unconventional behavior amusing. “I don’t find you the least bit intimidating or frightening, Mr. Archer,” she said in a dismissing tone. “Or pulse quickening.”

  His eyes locked with hers. “Really?”

  “Really,” she lied, and drew her hand away.

  The awareness and vibrating heat radiating between them denounced her indifference for the sham that it was. She was poignantly aware of the rich texture of his dark hair drifting forward on one temple and the way his knitted pullover molded hard muscles in his lean body. She stiffened against a sensual assault that threatened to destroy every last ounce of composure.

  “Let’s get back to the subject at hand,” she said briskly, retreating behind the barrier of professionalism. She kept her gaze on her notepad. “Do you and Cassie live alone? What are the living arrangements?”

  “Why? Is that important?”

  “Everything that affects Cassie is important. Especially the people around her.”

  He sighed and leaned back against the sofa. “You met Harriet, my late wife’s mother.”

  Tyla kept her expression neutral. “Yes, I spoke to Mrs. Millard briefly when she brought Cassie in today.” This wasn’t the time to express her concern about the grandmother’s negative attitude toward Cassie.

  As if suddenly very tired and frustrated, he sighed. “Lynette invited her mother and father to live with us when her father, Karl, had a debilitating stroke about a year ago. She told me that her parents were strapped for money because of Karl’s illness…another one of Lynette’s lies to get her own way. They had already moved into our house when I discovered that insurance had covered all of her father’s medical expenses and that he had comfortable assets and a good retirement income.”

  Clay raked the hair back from his forehead in an agitated gesture. For the first time Tyla saw a white scar near the hairline of his right temple. She felt an absurd curiosity to know how he’d gotten it as her eyes traced the almost handsome lines and planes of his face. Everything about him was blatantly masculine, and she could imagine how easily a woman could feel totally feminine in his arms. As if her thoughts were about to lead her into dangerous quicksand, she jerked them back to safe, professional ground. “What kind of a relationship do you have with your in-laws?”

  His eyes darkened to a stormy blue. “Harriet has never liked me, and her presence in the house only added to the friction between me and Lynette. And now she’s working on my daughter. Karl’s stroke left him paralyzed and unable to talk. The whole situation made the house a hell of a place to raise even a normal child, let alone someone like Cassie.”

  Ah-ha, she thought triumphantly. He’s admitting his fears about his daughter. “You don’t consider Cassie a normal child?”

  “Would everyone be so damn anxious to refer her to this clinic if they considered her behavior to be normal? The blasted school has already marked her as emotionally disturbed.”

  “You told me that you don’t like labels. Neither do I.” She waited a moment for the tenseness in his shoulders to ease. “The healthy maturation of a child is a mystery, to say the least. We do know that because of things that happen to a child, an outwardly uncharacteristic behavior often indicates an inner confusion. The search for self is never easy. For some of us, it is a lifelong endeavor,” she said honestly.

  “But worth the journey?”

  “I think so. You have a very special child in Cassie. You may have trouble accepting just how special she is. I would very much like to work with your daughter…and the family.” She moistened her suddenly dry lips. “On one condition. There has to be compete honesty between us.”

  He nodded solemnly. A moment later a glint of a smile reached his eyes. He reached out and touched the back of her hand in a brief but unmistakable caress. “I find you unbelievably attractive, Dr. Templeton. Is that honest enough for you?”

  Tyla managed a light laugh, struggling to hold on to her professional decorum. She avoided looking at him and made an entry in her notebook. When she realized she’d done nothing but write his name, she quickly closed the notebook. “I guess we’ve covered enough for one session.”

  “No more honest questions and answers?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

  She lifted her head and allowed her eyes to lock with his for an extended moment. “Maybe just one.”

  One of his dark eyebrows rose expectantly. “And what would that be?”

  She took a deep breath before speaking, knowing that her next question could blow up in her face. “Did Cassie inherit her psychic abilities from you?”

  “What?”

  Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought he braced himself as if the room were suddenly filled with a fierce head wind.

  “What kind of a question is that?”

  “Often ESP tendencies run in families. It occurred to me that your ready dismissal of such abilities might possibly be an effort to disguise your own tendencies in this area.”

  He managed a smile, but she interpreted it as a coverup for an emoti
on that was anything but mirthful. She thought his light tone was forced. “Well, now, I do admit to having hunches. For instance, when I have a hunch that a certain restaurant is going to serve awful food, I’m almost always right. And sometimes I know when my car is going to run out of gas even before I look at the gas gauge. And—”

  “Be serious, please.”

  “I am.” The false smile faded. “You’re way off base.”

  “Why does the possibility that Cassie inherited her paranormal abilities from you upset you?”

  “I’m not conceding for one minute that my child possesses one ounce of extrasensory perception,” he countered. “As for inheriting such nonsense from me…” He shook his head.

  Tyla wasn’t ready to drop the subject. “Was your wife telepathic or clairvoyant?”

  “Absolutely not. And I think we’ve more than adequately covered the matter.” He rose to his feet.

  “Yes, I agree,” Tyla said quickly, abandoning an attempt to pry additional information from him. As they moved to the center of the room, she suspected that he was dangerously close to canceling any more sessions with his daughter.

  He put his hand on the doorknob. “Good night, Dr. Templet on. This has been most enlightening. I’ll be in touch with you.”

  “Just a moment.” Tyla drew on her most professional manner. “I want to clarify something before you go.”

  He dropped his hand from the doorknob and stood there waiting. She imagined that in tense business negotiations, he would never blink. But this was his daughter they were talking about. And she suspected that where Cassie was concerned, he had an Achilles’ heel as vulnerable as any father’s.

  With several feet of distance between them, she said, “Our main concern is helping Cassie develop a healthy and positive attitude toward herself and others. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  She waited until he dipped his dark hair in a slight nod before she went on. “I believe I can change Cassie’s disruptive behavior toward herself and others, but I’ll need your cooperation.” She wanted to put everything out on the line. If he refused her conditions, it was better now than later. “I’ll want to visit the home and talk with other people who have influence with the child. Unless you feel comfortable with this kind of all-inclusive program, Mr. Archer, it would be best to discontinue my services as of this evening.”

  For a moment that seemed like an eternity, he searched her face. Then he came over to her and stood just inches away from the radiating tension in her body. She wanted to step back and break the invisible contact but she couldn’t. His nearness drew her into some undefined magnetic field, and she could feel the heat, the wariness, the fascination that whirled between them. The cloak of professionalism that she draped around herself wasn’t enough protection. She knew in some unfathomable way that if he walked out of her life now, she would lose something of herself. He had touched a sphere of emotions that she hadn’t known existed. She saw him swallow hard as if he were experiencing the same swell of emotion.

  “All right,” he said in a husky voice. “Have it your way.”

  He turned away abruptly, walked to the door and then hesitated. Looking back at her, his dark eyebrows pulled together. “I hope to God you know what you’re doing. For all our sakes.”

  Chapter 4

  Astriking blonde wearing designer jeans and a midriff blouse brought Cassie to the clinic the next day. “A friend of the family,” Doreen O’Day said as she introduced herself. “I’ve been trying to help out wherever I can. Harriet is carrying a great burden, looking after her invalid husband and trying to be a mother to Cassie at the same time. Clay would like to spend more time at home, but his business obligations are very demanding.” She smiled at Tyla. “You can see the need for a helping hand.”

  The young woman’s proprietary manner told Tyla a great deal. A confident, outgoing personality came through in her smile and the slight toss of her fair hair. Miss O’Day obviously felt at ease in her capacity as friend to the Archer family. Tyla wondered what exactly her relationship with the family might entail, and especially how strong her influence on Cassie might be. The little girl appeared more relaxed with Doreen than she’d been with either her grandmother or father.

  “I hope we’re not late,” Doreen said with a confident smile, as if tardiness were not really a worry. “Cassie couldn’t decide what dress to wear, could you, honey? We finally decided on this pretty little sundress.” She smoothed a pinafore ruffle on the child’s slender shoulders. “I think the blue flowers match her eyes nicely, don’t you? I put a ribbon in her hair, but she pulled it out.” Doreen frowned as if Cassie’s reaction to the ribbon had been a personal rejection.

  Tyla noticed that Cassie didn’t seem to react negatively to Doreen’s chatter about the ribbon. If there had been a confrontation, the child didn’t seem to hold any resentment. Her hair clustered in short dark brown curls around her face and drifted down her forehead in an untidy way. No doubt the ribbon had been intended to hold the hair back from her eyes

  “Thank you for bringing Cassie,” Tyla said smoothly, not wanting the woman to dwell on the ribbon incident.

  “No problem. Harriet really has her hands full with her husband the way he is, you know. Really sad. Karl was such an energetic man and now…” She sighed. “Anyway, I went to college with Lynette. We were almost like sisters. And I love this little gal dearly. You just tell me what you want me to do to make her happy, and I’ll pick up on it like a shot. We’re pals, aren’t we, Cassie?” She gave the child’s dark head an affectionate pat.

  Cassie didn’t look up or acknowledge the gesture, but she didn’t move away, either, Tyla noted. At least there was someone in the child’s life who seemed willing to accept Cassie as she was. Not like her father. Clay resisted any suggestion that his little girl might have unusual forces at work in her life. Tyla had gone over their session a dozen times in her mind, trying to make a record of their interview without including any of the sexual tension that had exploded between them. She had to remain detached, she’d schooled herself, and her work with Cassie had to be separate from her feelings for the enigmatic man who had disturbed latent desires she had never felt before.

  “Maybe we could talk at some other time,” Tyla suggested briskly. “You may be able to help me understand the family situation better.”

  “If anyone can, it’s me,” said Doreen, her pretty green eyes shining. “I guess I know Clay about as well as anyone. Before he married Lynette, we were…well, close. And now…” Her pretty lips curved in a satisfied smile. “I guess you might say we’re closer than ever, if you know what I mean.”

  Tyla didn’t but she could guess. The tender sparkle in Doreen’s eyes and the way she said his name were easily -translated—she was in love with Clay Archer. The realization brought a whirlwind of questions flooding Tyla’s mind. Were Clay and Doreen sleeping together? Had an affair begun before or after Lynette’s death? Was the young woman using the child to get closer to the father? Tyla’s protective instincts flared. The child had enough problems without being used as a pawn in some mating game. “I really would like to talk with you sometime soon, Miss O’Day,” said Tyla.

  “Yes, of course. Would you like me to stay with Cassie?” she asked eagerly. “Maybe she’ll do better if I’m close by.”

  “No, my sessions are always private. Thank you for bringing her.”

  Doreen leaned down and hugged the little girl’s shoulders. “You have fun, Cassie. I’ll be back in an hour.” She gave Tyla a half smile and went out the door, her provocative fanny swinging in a sexy way.

  Tyla smiled down at Cassie. “It’s time for us to visit the playroom. Maybe you want to play with the dollhouse today.”

  There was no response.

  “Well, you can decide what you want to do when we get there.” Tyla offered her hand.

  Cassie rejected the offer but she walked beside Tyla as if she knew exactly where she was going. There was selfsufficiency in the four-year-ol
d that was remarkable, thought Tyla. The school authorities had suggested that the child suffered from a deep-seated mental illness, but only a strong-willed child would continue to act out her anger and frustrations instead of giving in to them. Cassie had the strength to survive…or self-destruct.

  When they entered the playroom, Tyla sat down in her usual chair and pretended interest in her notebook and pen. Cassie stood close by, watching and waiting. Her dark blue eyes remained expressionless, giving no hint of the thoughts in her mind.

  Tyla gave her a reassuring smile but offered nothing in the way of direction or suggestion. She wanted Cassie to know that for this one hour, she could do exactly as she pleased. If given the initiative, a child would make choices that offered the greatest security, and Tyla wanted Cassie to feel completely secure within this room.

  “I don’t want to play with the dollhouse.”

  Tyla nodded and, without looking at her, repeated the belligerent remark in a nonjudgmental tone. “Cassie doesn’t want to play with the dollhouse.”

  Cassie waited for a moment and, when Tyla didn’t say anything more, she began walking slowly around the room. She ignored the dollhouse as if resisting Tyla’s earlier suggestion that she could play with it.

  Tyla watched her out of the corner of her eye. Cassie’s lips moved slightly as she identified some of the toys lying on a shelf. “Horn…ball…piano…puzzle.” Several times she glanced at Tyla and waited for her to make some comment.

  Tyla repeated the name of the last object Cassie had mentioned. “That’s a puzzle…top…that’s a ball.”

  Cassie went all around the room, pointing out toys and furniture, sometimes stopping and waiting for Tyla to repeat the name of the object. The verbal classification seemed to reassure her and indicated that she felt safe communicating in this fashion.

  Finally Cassie walked over to the sandbox and glanced back at Tyla as if entertaining doubts about having permission to play with the sand inside. The little girl trailed her fingers in the sand and then deliberately flipped a handful of sand on the floor. And then another. Cassie continued to throw handfuls of sand on the floor, glaring at Tyla and waiting for her reaction.