Tell Me Your Dreams Part 4

She was trembling. "On the .. . the screen-"

Shane turned on the computer. A picture of a kitten chasing a ball of yarn across a green lawn appeared.

Shane turned to look at Ashley, bewildered. "What-?"

"It's-it's gone," she whispered.

"What's gone?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I-I've been under a lot of stress lately, Shane. I'm sorry."

"Why don't you go have a talk with Dr. Speakman?"

Ashley had seen Dr. Speakman before. He was the company psychologist hired to counsel stressed-out computer whizzes. He was not a medical doctor, but he was intelligent and understanding, and it was helpful to be able to talk to someone.

"I'll go," Ashley said.

Dr. Ben Speakman was in his fifties, a patriarch at the fountain of youth. His office was a quiet oasis at the far end of the building, relaxed and comfortable.

"I had a terrible dream last night," Ashley said. She closed her eyes, reliving it. "I was running. I was in a huge garden filled with flowers... They had weird, ugly faces... They were screaming at me....I couldn't hear what they were saying. I just kept running toward something....I don't know what..." She stopped and opened her eyes.

"Could you have been running away away from something? Was something chasing you?" from something? Was something chasing you?"

"I don't know. I-I think I'm being followed, Dr. Speakman. It sounds crazy, but-I think someone wants to kill me."

He studied her a moment. "Who would want to kill you?"

"I-I have no idea."

"Have you seen seen anyone following you?" anyone following you?"

"No."

"You live alone, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Are you seeing anyone? I mean romantically?"

"No. Not right now."

"So it's been a while since you-I mean sometimes when a woman doesn't have a man in her life-well, a kind of physical tension can build up..."

What he's trying to tell me is that I need a good-She could not bring herself to say the word. She could hear her father yelling at her, "Don't ever say that word again. People will think you're a little s.l.u.t. Nice people don't say f.u.c.k. Where do you pick up that kind of language?" "Don't ever say that word again. People will think you're a little s.l.u.t. Nice people don't say f.u.c.k. Where do you pick up that kind of language?"

"I think you've just been working too hard, Ashley. I don't believe you have anything to worry about. It's probably just tension. Take it a little easier for a while. Get more rest."

"I'll try."

Shane Miller was waiting for her. "What did Dr. Speakman say?"

Ashley managed a smile. "He says I'm fine. I've just been working too hard."

"Well, we'll have to do something about that," Shane said. "For openers, why don't you take the rest of the day off?" His voice was filled with concern.

"Thanks." She looked at him and smiled. He was a dear man. A good friend.

He can't he the one, Ashley thought. Ashley thought. He can't. He can't.

During the following week, Ashley could think of nothing but the reunion. I wonder if my going is a mistake? What if Jim Cleary does show up? Does he have any idea how much he hurt me? Does he care? Will he even remember me? I wonder if my going is a mistake? What if Jim Cleary does show up? Does he have any idea how much he hurt me? Does he care? Will he even remember me?

The night before Ashley was to leave for Bedford, she was unable to sleep. She was tempted to cancel her flight. I'm being silly, I'm being silly, she thought. she thought. The past is the past. The past is the past.

When Ashley picked up her ticket at the airport, she examined it and said, "I'm afraid there's been some mistake. I'm flying tourist. This is a first-cla.s.s ticket."

"Yes. You changed it."

She stared at the clerk. "I what?"

"You telephoned and said to change it to a first-cla.s.s ticket." He showed Ashley a slip of paper. "Is this your credit card number?"

She looked at it and said slowly, "Yes..."

She had not made that phone call.

Ashley arrived in Bedford early and checked in at the Bedford Springs Resort. The reunion festivities did not start until six o'clock that evening, so she decided to explore the town. She hailed a taxi in front of the hotel.

"Where to, miss?"

"Let's just drive around."

Hometowns were supposed to look smaller when a native returned years later, but to Ashley, Bedford looked larger than she had remembered. The taxi drove up and down familiar streets, pa.s.sing the offices of the Bedford Gazette Bedford Gazette and television station WKYE and a dozen familiar restaurants and art galleries. The Baker's Loaf of Bedford was still there and Clara's Place, the Fort Bedford Museum and Old Bedford Village. They pa.s.sed the Memorial Hospital, a graceful three-story brick building with a portico. It was there that her father had become famous. and television station WKYE and a dozen familiar restaurants and art galleries. The Baker's Loaf of Bedford was still there and Clara's Place, the Fort Bedford Museum and Old Bedford Village. They pa.s.sed the Memorial Hospital, a graceful three-story brick building with a portico. It was there that her father had become famous.

She recalled again the terrible, screaming fights between her mother and father. They had always been about the same thing. About what? About what? She could not remember. She could not remember.

At five o'clock, Ashley returned to her hotel room. She changed clothes three times before finally deciding on what she was going to wear. She settled on a simple, flattering black dress.

When Ashley entered the festively decorated gymnasium of Bedford Area High School, she found herself surrounded by 120 vaguely familiar-looking strangers. Some of her former cla.s.smates were completely unrecognizable, others had changed little. Ashley was looking for one person: Jim Cleary. Would he have changed much? Would he have his wife with him? Would he have changed much? Would he have his wife with him? People were approaching Ashley. People were approaching Ashley.

"Ashley, it's Trent Waterson. You look great!"

"Thanks. So do you, Trent."

"I want you to meet my wife..."

"Ashley, it is is you, isn't it?" you, isn't it?"

"Yes. Er-"

"Art. Art Davies. Remember me?"

"Of course." He was badly dressed and looked ill at ease.

"How is everything going, Art?"

"Well, you know I wanted to become an engineer, but it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Anyway, I became a mechanic."

"Ashley! It's Lenny Holland. For G.o.d's sake, you look beautiful!"

"Thank you, Lenny." He had gained weight and was wearing a large diamond ring on his little finger.

"I'm in real estate now, doing great. Did you ever get married?"

Ashley hesitated. "No."

"Remember Nicki Brandt? We got married. We have twins."

"Congratulations."

It was amazing how much people could change in ten years. They were fatter and thinner...prosperous and downtrodden. They were married and divorced .. . parents and parentless...

As the evening wore on, there was dining and music and dancing. Ashley made conversation with her former cla.s.smates and caught up on their lives, but her mind was on Jim Cleary. There was still no sign of him. He won't come, He won't come, she decided. she decided. He knows I might be here and he's afraid to face me. He knows I might be here and he's afraid to face me.

An attractive-looking woman was approaching. "Ashley! I was hoping hoping I'd see you." It was Florence Schiffer. Ashley was genuinely glad to see her. Florence had been one of her closest friends. The two of them found a table in the corner, where they could talk. I'd see you." It was Florence Schiffer. Ashley was genuinely glad to see her. Florence had been one of her closest friends. The two of them found a table in the corner, where they could talk.

"You look great, Florence," Ashley said.

"So do you. Sorry I'm so late. The baby wasn't feeling well. Since I last saw you, I've gotten married and divorced. I'm going out with Mr. Wonderful now. What about you? After the graduation party, you disappeared. I tried to find you, but you'd left town."

"I went to London," Ashley said. "My father enrolled me in a college over there. We left here the morning after our graduation."

"I tried every way I could think of to reach you. The detectives thought I might know where you were. They were looking for you because you and Jim Cleary were going together."

Ashley said slowly, "The detectives?" detectives?"

"Yes. The ones investigating the murder."

Ashley felt the blood drain from her face. "What...murder?"

Florence was staring at her. "My G.o.d! You don't know?"

"Know what?" Ashley demanded fiercely. "What are you talking about?" Ashley demanded fiercely. "What are you talking about?"

"The day after the graduation party, Jim's parents came back and found his body. He had been stabbed to death and...castrated."

The room started to spin. Ashley held on to the edge of the table. Florence grabbed her arm.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Ashley. I thought you would have read about it, but of course . .. you had left for London."

Ashley squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She saw herself sneaking out of the house that night, heading toward Jim Cleary's house. But she had turned and gone back home to wait for him in the morning. If only I had gone to him, If only I had gone to him, Ashley thought miserably, Ashley thought miserably, he would still he alive. And all these years I've hated him. Oh, my G.o.d. Who could have killed him? Who he would still he alive. And all these years I've hated him. Oh, my G.o.d. Who could have killed him? Who-?

She could hear her father's voice, "You keep your G.o.dd.a.m.ned hands off my daughter, do you understand?...If I ever see you around here again, I'll break every bone in your body.'' "You keep your G.o.dd.a.m.ned hands off my daughter, do you understand?...If I ever see you around here again, I'll break every bone in your body.''

She got to her feet. "You'll have to excuse me, Florence. I-I'm not feeling very well."

And Ashley fled.

The detectives. They must have gotten in touch with her father. Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he tell me?

She took the first plane back to California. It was early in the morning before she could fall asleep. She had a nightmare. A figure standing in the dark was stabbing Jim and screaming at him. The figure stepped into the light.

It was her father.

Chapter Five.

THE next few months were misery for Ashley. The image of Jim Cleary's b.l.o.o.d.y, mutilated body kept going through her mind. She thought of seeing Dr. Speakman again, but she knew she dare not discuss this with anyone. She felt guilty even next few months were misery for Ashley. The image of Jim Cleary's b.l.o.o.d.y, mutilated body kept going through her mind. She thought of seeing Dr. Speakman again, but she knew she dare not discuss this with anyone. She felt guilty even thinking thinking that her father might have done such a terrible thing. She pushed the thought away and tried to concentrate on her work. It was impossible. She looked down in dismay at a logo she had just botched. that her father might have done such a terrible thing. She pushed the thought away and tried to concentrate on her work. It was impossible. She looked down in dismay at a logo she had just botched.

Shane Miller was watching her, concerned. "Are you all right, Ashley?"

She forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"I really am sorry about your friend." She had told him about Jim.

"I'll-I'll get over it."

"What about dinner tonight?"

"Thanks, Shane. I-I'm not up to it just yet. Next week."

"Right. If there's anything I can do-"

"I appreciate it. There's nothing anyone can do."

Toni said to Alette, "Miss Tight a.s.s has a problem. Well, she can get stuffed."

"I feel displace displace-sorry for her. She is troubled."

"Sod her. We all have our problems, don't we, luv?"