"Suicide," Megan repeated numbly.
He nodded. "She won. I committed her and she spent five years in a psychiatric hospital before Grady appeared on my doorstep. We took her out of the asylum and she was happy and normal for the last years of her life. I owe him."
"Asylum," she whispered. "I'm not crazy, Phillip."
"No, you're not. But you're terrified because that's what your mother hinted to you all your life."
"My mother loved me. She was my friend. She was wonderful, dammit."
"I'm not arguing. I didn't know her. Grady said she was... exceptional."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't be defensive with me. Take it up with Grady."
"I don't want to take it up with Grady. I'm not even sure he'd tell me the truth if I asked him." Her hand involuntarily clenched on Phillip's. "He was—I don't like what he did to me. Who the hell is he?"
"He didn't lie to you. His name is Neal Grady. He said you spent an entire summer with him so you probably know him better than I do."
Neal throwing back his dark head and laughing at something Sarah had said.
Neal sitting still on a dune, his arms linked around his knees, watching Megan as she waded in the surf.
"Good Lord, you can't keep your eyes off him, can you?" Her mothers voice teasing her. "I believe you have a crush on our Neal. Oh, don't worry, I won't tell him." Her smile faded. "Don't like him too much, baby. I know he's been a wonderful playmate this summer but he's not really young like you. He's been through too much. When I first met him, I was feeling very maternal toward him. Then, as we became friends, I felt as if he was like Merlin and aging backwards."
"That's silly, Mama."
"I guess so." She smiled. "But it's rude of you to point it out when I'm trying to be deep and profound."
Yes, she had thought she knew Neal Grady, Megan thought. But she had seen him through a lonely adolescent's eyes and she had been blind to everything but what she wanted to see. "I didn't really know anything about him. When he showed up that summer, my mother said she'd met him before, but she didn't mention where. He didn't seem... he was like anyone else." She repeated, "Who is he? Stop dodging, Phillip."
"I'm not dodging. I'm gathering my thoughts. I'll tell you what I know about him. He was born and raised in the ghettos of New Orleans. He was recruited by the military when he was sixteen and eventually sent to work with a Special Forces unit." He grimaced. "When he wasn't slaughtering off the supposed bad guys, he was acting as consultant."
"Consultant?"
"Our government has had psychic programs in place for decades. So have the Russians and several European countries. They're not talked about but they definitely exist. The CIA has been been using them more and more frequently in recent years. In some Delta units, they sometimes have someone with special sensitivity; mind reading, precognition, controllers. Any talent that can give them an edge. A talent like Grady must have seemed like a gift sent from heaven to them."
"Why? What talent is he supposed to have?"
He shrugged. "I don't know everything he can do. I think with some people he can blur reality, cause memory loss, control the thought process. I do know he acted as buffer for my wife and kept her sane. After your mother died he cut his ties with the military and started working with a Psychic Investigative Group at a think tank in Virginia, headed by Michael Travis."
She shook her head in disbelief. "More crackpots."
"No, genuine psychics. I made Grady take me there to check it out before I trusted him enough to let him help Nora. I'm not gullible and I was very impressed. I expected a bunch of crooks and charlatans. I found something that opened my eyes to a new world." He made a face. "And it scared the hell out of me. It took me a week to get over it and decide to let Grady help my wife."
"You're saying he's some kind of psychic do-gooder going around and turning water into wine?"
"No, I'm saying Grady occasionally helps out in special cases. His main focus is in another direction."
"What direction?"
He shrugged. "I believe he's searching for something. Ask him about it."
"Would he tell me?"
"Yes." His lips tightened. "I'm quite sure he'll tell you all about it." She was silent a moment. "You don't trust him."
"I trusted him with Nora. I don't know if I'd trust him with you. The situation is different."
"You don't have to trust me with him. I'm not a child. I'm the one to make the decision." She wearily shook a head. "And I don't know what to think. It's all crazy. If I believe you, then I have to believe what Grady told me." She whispered, "I don't want to do that, Phillip."
"I know." He squeezed her hand and then released it. "But you've always faced up to even the hardest facts. This is just another one." He smiled. "Well, I suppose that's an understatement."
"I suppose," she repeated ironically. She looked away from him. "It's not bullshit, Phillip?"
"I can't blame you for doubting. No one was a bigger doubter than me." He paused. "I don't understand it, but it's not bullshit. I swear to you, Megan."
"I don't want it," she said fiercely. "I'd almost rather be nuts than a freak. How do I get rid of it?"
"You don't. You learn to live with it." He released her hand and stood up. "It's the only way to survive."
"You don't know that. You're not a freak. You probably only know what Grady told you."
"I did research on my own too. Nora was too important to me to trust anyone's word without checking."
She had hurt him again. She was filled with anger and frustration, but she shouldn't take it out on Phillip. "I'm sorry. I'm just—" She reached out and took his hand and put it against her cheek. "It's not you. I just want to wake up tomorrow and have this be a nightmare."
"I know," he said gently. "I want that for you too. But I can't make it happen. The only thing I can tell you is that I'll be here for you. I won't let Grady have it all his own way."
"Why did he come back? I was getting along just fine. I don't want him in my life."
"You were getting along just fine because he was running interference for you …just as he did with
Nora."
"I won't be dependent on him. God, I felt helpless. He was able to hurt me, bend me. It was like being a cripple. I've got to do something."
"I can't help you there, Megan. I'm afraid you're on your own." He patted her cheek before stepping back. "But you've never been shy about taking the initiative. I'll enjoy watching you work it out."
She suddenly remembered something else that had been lost in the shock and confusion. "Grady said he needed me to help him. Help him do what?"
"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. Grady can be patient but not in these circumstances."
She watched Phillip move toward the door. When he had come into the room, she had been filled with hurt and anger and a feeling of isolation. Yet it had only taken a short time for her to come to terms with this new place Phillip was occupying in her life. It was a strange and bizarre role, but Phillip himself had not changed. He was still her friend. She still loved him with all her heart. As long as he stood by her, she was not alone.