“True ... I suppose that could’ve been it.”
If the theory was right, Jack had already discovered a reality that had taken Audra more than thirty years to figure out.
“What about the nightmares, though? Were Cooper’s ever ... super vivid? Like with his eyes open?”
Tess waved her hand. “All perfectly normal. Just talk to Jack about it. I’m sure you’ll both feel a lot better.”
In many ways Audra already did. Everyone could be worrying over nothing.
What was it Devon used to say? Nuttin’ but a scratch. Blood would be pouring from a cut on Jack’s knee, or his elbow swelling from a fall off his skateboard, but hearing that assurance always calmed him right down. Even from the start, whenever Jack took a small tumble while learning to walk Devon would instantly clap and cheer; in response, their son would giggle rather than cry.
Bottom line, for a child the problem was only big if you told them as much.
“Speaking of kids.” Tess regarded her watch. “Cooper’s got practice today, so it’s my turn to drive Grace to equestrian. I’d better get some charts done. And hey, I almost forgot. Any time you and Jack want to ride my sister-in-law’s horse, just say the word. Tracy said you two are more than welcome.”
“But ... isn’t that how she shattered her pelvis before?”
“No, no. That happened from a snowmobile. Chestnut is the gentlest creature ever. You should get to know him yourself. Swing by the stable during the summer, or in the fall if it’s easier.”
Audra noted her friend’s insertion of an enticement to stick around. “I’ll keep it in mind,” she said with a smile.
Tess gave her a look, acknowledging the failed attempt. “All right, back to the salt mines.” She started for the hallway but dragged to a stop. Turning back, she spoke with all the enthusiasm of performing a full day of dental cleanings. “A friend of mine works at a pet clinic in Boston. He happened to mention they’re hunting for another vet. I could pass your info along if you want.”
Audra perked. She’d always thought of Boston as an intriguing city, rich in history and culture and academics. Great benefits for Jack in the years to come. “I’ll owe you one.”
“More like one million. But yes. You will.”
As Tess departed, Audra recalled her earlier mission. She dug into her pocket and retrieved the therapist’s card.
Talk—Trust—Heal
She scanned the text once more, and ripped the card in half.
8
When it came to the task at hand, Vivian was on her own. Lying in bed, down pillow scrunched against the white wrought-iron frame, she skirted thoughts of the consequences; they would only apply if she was caught.
The designation off-limits applied to many a thing in the James household: the pantry and cookie jar between mealtimes, a china closet full of impractical gifts from dignitaries, any mention of her mother’s four o’clock flow of gin and tonic. And the vertical file cabinet downstairs in the study.
Her parents’ slumber, however, would soon be deep, allowing her to creep through the house undetected. The waitstaff’s nightly absence would also ease her efforts. Over the past three days she had snagged every discreet chance to search for the key by daylight. Under the cloak of darkness, she hoped for a better result.
The most confidential files would be stored at the embassy. Nonetheless, those kept at home carried enough importance to merit a lock. A memo inside, for instance, might confirm unflagging neutrality by Prime Minister Chamberlain. There could be a proposition for a new non-aggression pact between the United Kingdom and Germany. True, Hitler had reneged on the previous one, breaking the Munich Agreement by seizing all of Czechoslovakia. But the majority of British leaders might still desire peace, just as much as Isaak did. Proof of this could help allay his fears.
Vivian centered on the prospect as she stared at the ceiling, its crown molding trimmed in gold. Lace curtains sieved moonlight across her small but tidy room. With every blink, her eyelids gained another gram of weight. She pinched her leg beneath the sheets. She needed to stay alert. But with fatigue nibbling at her senses, her vision went gray at the edges....
A chiming melody roused her. It floated up the staircase from the grandfather clock in the parlor, marking the hour of one. She had planned to wait until two, yet if she didn’t act now another slow blink might tug her into a dream and keep her captive until dawn.
She shook off the dust of exhaustion and planted her feet on the cool rug. In her long cotton nightdress, she tiptoed down the stairs. Beams of light from outside splashed against the arched entry window. Vivian froze, imagining a policeman armed with a flashlight. Instead a vehicle rumbled away, taking its bright headlights along.