She walked outside and stood in the driveway, feeling completely disorientated. Only two weeks ago she had been inside this very house. She had sat on the living-room couch and eaten canap6s and eyed the Levi family photos over the fireplace. Now she wondered if she'd hallucinated the whole scene.
Still in a daze, she got in her car and backed out of the driveway. She drove on automatic pilot, scarcely paying attention to the road, her mind focused on Elaine's bizarre disappearance. Where would she go? To uproot her life so abruptly after Aaron's death didn't seem rational. Rather, it seemed like something one did out of panic.
Suddenly uneasy, she glanced in the rearview mirror. She'd made it a habit to check the mirror, ever since Saturday, when she'd first glimpsed the maroon van.
There was a dark greenVolvo driving behind her. Hadn't it been parked outside Elaine's house? She couldn't be sure. She hadn't really been paying attention.
The Volvo blinked its lights on and off. She accelerated. The Volvo did too.
She turned right, onto a major thoroughfare. Ahead stretched a suburban strip of gas stations and mini-malls. Witnesses. Lots of witnesses. Yet the Volvo was still right behind her, still blinking its lights.
She'd had enough of being pursued, enough of being frightened. To hell with this. If he wanted to harass her, she'd turn the tables and confront him.
She swerved into the parking lot of a shopping mall. He followed her. One glance outside told her there were plenty of people around, shoppers pushing carts, drivers searching for parking spots. Here was the place to do it.
She slammed on the brakes.
The Volvo screeched to a halt inches from her rear bumper.
She scrambled out of her car and ran back to the Volvo. Furiously she rapped at the driver's window. "Open up, damn you! Open up.t'
The driver rolled down his window and looked out at her. Then he removed his sunglasses. "Dr. DiMatteo?" said Bernard Katzka. "I thought it was you."
"Why have you been following me?"
"I saw you drive away from the house."
"No, before. Why did you follow me before?" 'when?"
"Saturday. The van."
He shook his head. "I don't know about any van."
She backed away. "Forget it. Just quit tailing me, OK?"
"I was trying to get you to pull over. Didn't you see me flash my lights?"
"I didn't know it was you."
"Mind telling me what you were doing at Dr. Levi's house?"
'! stopped by to see Elaine. I didn't know she'd moved."
'why don't you pull into that parking space? I'd like to talk to you. Or are you going to refuse to answer questions again?"
"That depends on what you're going to ask me."
"It's about Dr. Levi."
"That's all we're going to talk about? Just Aaron?"
He nodded.
She thought about it. And decided that questions could go both ways. That even the close-mouthed Detective Katzka might be induced to give out information.
She glanced towards the mall. "I see a doughnut shop over there. Why don't we go in and have a cup of coffee?"
Cops and doughnuts. The association had become an urban joke, HARVEST
reinforced in the public's mind by every overweight cop, by every patrol car ever parked outside a Dunkin Donuts. Bernard Katzka, however, did not appear to be a doughnut fan; he ordered only a cup of black coffee which he sipped without any apparent pleasure. Katzka did not strike Abby as the sort of man who indulged in much of anything that was pleasurable, sinful, or even remotely unnecessary.
His first question came right to the point. "Why were you at the house?"
"I came to see Elaine. I wanted to talk to her."
"About what?"
"Personal matters."
"It was my impression that you two were just acquaintances."
"Did she tell you that?"
He ignored her question. "Is that how you'd characterize the relationship?"
She let out a breath. "Yes, I guess so. We know each other through Aaron. That's all."
"So why did you come to see her?"
Again she took a deep breath. And realized she was probably clueing him in to her own nervousness. "Some strange things have happened to me lately. I wanted to talk to Elaine about it."
"What things?"
"Someone was following me last Saturday. A maroon van. I spotted it on the Tobin Bridge. Then I saw it again, when I got home." "Anything else?"
"Isn't that upsetting enough?" She looked straight at him. "It scared me."
He regarded her in silence, as though trying to decide if it really was fear he was seeing in her face. 'what does this have to do with Mrs Levi?"
"You're the one who got me wondering about Aaron. About whether he really committed suicide. Then I found out two other Bayside doctors have died."
Katzka's frown told her this was news to him.
"Six and a half years ago," she said, 'there was a Dr. Lawrence Kunstler. A thoracic surgeon. He jumped off the Tobin Bridge."
Katzka said nothing, but he had shifted forward, almost imperceptibly, in his chair.
"Then three years ago, there was an anaesthesiologist," continued Abby. "A Dr. Hennessy. He and his wife and baby died of carbon monoxide poisoning. They called it an accident. A broken furnace."
"Unfortunately, that kind of accident happens every winter."
"And then there's Aaron. That makes three. All of them were on the transplant team. Doesn't that seem like a terribly unlucky coincidence to you?"
'what are you formulating here? That someone's stalking the transplant team? Killing them off one by one?"
"I'm just pointing out a pattern here. You're the policeman. You should investigate it."
Katzka sat back. "How is it you got involved in all this?"
"My boyfriend's on the team. Mark doesn't admit it, but I think he's worried. I think the whole team's worried, and they're wondering who's going to be next. But they never talk about it. The way people never talk about plane crashes when they're standing at the boarding gate."
"So you're worried about your boyfriend's safety?"
"Yes," she said simply, leaving out the larger truth: that she was doing this because she wanted Mark back. All of him. She didn't understand what had happened between them, but she knew their relationship was crumbling. And it had all started to deteriorate the night she'd mentioned Kunstler and Hennessy. None of this she shared with Katzka, because it was all based on feelings. Instinct. Katzka was the kind of man who worked with more tangible coinage.
Obviously, he'd expected her to say more. When she remained silent, he asked: "Is there anything else you want to tell me? About anything at all?"
He's talking about Mary Allen, she thought with a flash of panic. Looking at him, she had the overwhelming urge to tell him everything. Here, now. Instead she quickly avoided his gaze. And responded with a question of her own.
'why were you watching Elaine's house?" she asked. "That's what you're doing, isn't it?"
"I was talking to the next-door neighbour. When I came out, I saw you pull out of the driveway."
"You're questioning Elaine's neighbours?"
"It's routine."
"I don't think so."
Almost against her will, her gaze lifted to his. His grey eyes admitted nothing, gave nothing away.
"Why are you still investigating a suicide?"
"The widow packs up and leaves practically overnight, with no forwarding address. That's unusual."
HARVEST
"You're not saying Elaine's guilty of anything, are you?"
"No. I think she's scared."
"Of what?"
"Do you know, Dr. DiMatteo?"
She found she could not look away, found there was something about the quiet intensity of his eyes that held her transfixed. She felt a brief and completely unexpected flicker of attraction, and she had no idea why this man, of all people, should inspire it. "No," she said. "I have no idea what Elaine's running from."