her into the living room area. Brandy did not resist when he sat at one end of the couch and drew her comfortably against him. “The offer of a foot rub is still open."
“Sorry,” she replied. “I don't do feet."
“You've got it backwards."
“No, I haven't. I don't accept what I don't want to return."
“Okay,” he agreed easily, “I'll rub your head.” He put a throw pillow on his lap and drew Brandy down, gently rubbing the tenseness out of her scalp. It was only too easy to succumb to the delicious sensations.
At some point Brandy experienced the guilty thought that she had forgotten all about the Car 108 case.
Then she was asleep.
* * * *
Brandy opened her eyes to the sight of a woman, half lying, half sitting, hands folded in her lap, face wearing a serene smile. It took her a moment to recognize her reflection in the mirror that faced her bed.
It was morning. She was in her own bed, still in the jeans and blue shirt from last night. Dan must have put her to bed, but she didn't remember. He had not removed the decorative pillows, but just laid her against them, covering her with the blanket that had been folded at the foot of the bed. She did not normally waken to the sight of herself in the mirror.
But as she lay gathering her wits, Brandy suddenly realized why that reflection was so familiar. Her image lost its serenity as she recognized the position and the facial expression, identical to those of Professor Everett Land, and the four victims of Car 108.
----
Chapter Five—Day Off
Sylvester, who had been asleep at the foot of the bed, scolded Brandy for disturbing him. Funny he hadn't wakened her, she thought until she looked at the clock: 6:18am.
It couldn't have been much after 9:00pm when she had fallen asleep. She shook off the disturbing image in the mirror. It didn't mean anything—unless her subconscious was trying to send her a message. Something to do with the frustrating Car 108 case, obviously. But what?
On the kitchen counter was a note:
Call me when you wake up. Perhaps we can go somewhere tomorrow where you can't be reached on your day off. D.
And that gave her the connection. She fed Sylvester, ate some cereal, dressed, and coerced her unset hair into a French braid. The stitches in her forehead would be removed Monday. If they had been anywhere but on her face she would have left them uncovered, but they were just too Bride of Frankensteinish, so she covered them with another flesh-tone band-aid. Finally, at 8:00am, she allowed herself to dial Dan Martin's number.
He didn't sound as if she woke him. After the usual pleasantries, he asked, “What would you like to do today?"
“Dan, what happened to Everett Land's computer?"
“What?"
“Dr. Land's computer. After the police decided it wasn't evidence in a crime. Where is it now?"
“I have it,” he replied.
“You have it?"
“It belongs to the university, so it came back to my department to be assigned to somebody else."
“Have you done that yet?"
“No. Brandy, what is this about?"
“Were there any more messages? What about Land's correspondents? Anything connected to his identity change? Any remote connection to Chase or Jenny Anderson?"
“Brandy, are you saying you want to spend your day off—my day off, too, I might add—with Rett's computer?"
“Aren't you curious? How can you stand to leave him appearing out of nowhere in Oxford, Mississippi? Please—help me with the computer this morning and then we'll go out to the lake this afternoon, for swimming and a picnic."
There was a moment's silence. Then he said, “A trip to the lake will reveal one of my weaknesses."
“What—you've got weaknesses? How refreshing. Want me to meet you at your office?"
“Yes, since I have to walk. I left my car at the police station last night. See you in about half an hour."
Dan met Brandy at the door to Callahan Hall. Today he wore jeans and a loose shirt, baseball cap and sunglasses.
He took her into his office,
“Sorry,” she replied. “I don't do feet."
“You've got it backwards."
“No, I haven't. I don't accept what I don't want to return."
“Okay,” he agreed easily, “I'll rub your head.” He put a throw pillow on his lap and drew Brandy down, gently rubbing the tenseness out of her scalp. It was only too easy to succumb to the delicious sensations.
At some point Brandy experienced the guilty thought that she had forgotten all about the Car 108 case.
Then she was asleep.
* * * *
Brandy opened her eyes to the sight of a woman, half lying, half sitting, hands folded in her lap, face wearing a serene smile. It took her a moment to recognize her reflection in the mirror that faced her bed.
It was morning. She was in her own bed, still in the jeans and blue shirt from last night. Dan must have put her to bed, but she didn't remember. He had not removed the decorative pillows, but just laid her against them, covering her with the blanket that had been folded at the foot of the bed. She did not normally waken to the sight of herself in the mirror.
But as she lay gathering her wits, Brandy suddenly realized why that reflection was so familiar. Her image lost its serenity as she recognized the position and the facial expression, identical to those of Professor Everett Land, and the four victims of Car 108.
----
Chapter Five—Day Off
Sylvester, who had been asleep at the foot of the bed, scolded Brandy for disturbing him. Funny he hadn't wakened her, she thought until she looked at the clock: 6:18am.
It couldn't have been much after 9:00pm when she had fallen asleep. She shook off the disturbing image in the mirror. It didn't mean anything—unless her subconscious was trying to send her a message. Something to do with the frustrating Car 108 case, obviously. But what?
On the kitchen counter was a note:
Call me when you wake up. Perhaps we can go somewhere tomorrow where you can't be reached on your day off. D.
And that gave her the connection. She fed Sylvester, ate some cereal, dressed, and coerced her unset hair into a French braid. The stitches in her forehead would be removed Monday. If they had been anywhere but on her face she would have left them uncovered, but they were just too Bride of Frankensteinish, so she covered them with another flesh-tone band-aid. Finally, at 8:00am, she allowed herself to dial Dan Martin's number.
He didn't sound as if she woke him. After the usual pleasantries, he asked, “What would you like to do today?"
“Dan, what happened to Everett Land's computer?"
“What?"
“Dr. Land's computer. After the police decided it wasn't evidence in a crime. Where is it now?"
“I have it,” he replied.
“You have it?"
“It belongs to the university, so it came back to my department to be assigned to somebody else."
“Have you done that yet?"
“No. Brandy, what is this about?"
“Were there any more messages? What about Land's correspondents? Anything connected to his identity change? Any remote connection to Chase or Jenny Anderson?"
“Brandy, are you saying you want to spend your day off—my day off, too, I might add—with Rett's computer?"
“Aren't you curious? How can you stand to leave him appearing out of nowhere in Oxford, Mississippi? Please—help me with the computer this morning and then we'll go out to the lake this afternoon, for swimming and a picnic."
There was a moment's silence. Then he said, “A trip to the lake will reveal one of my weaknesses."
“What—you've got weaknesses? How refreshing. Want me to meet you at your office?"
“Yes, since I have to walk. I left my car at the police station last night. See you in about half an hour."
Dan met Brandy at the door to Callahan Hall. Today he wore jeans and a loose shirt, baseball cap and sunglasses.
He took her into his office,
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