When Dreams Tremble Page 3

  frightened she’d been in the middle of the night when she couldn’t breathe, when

  she’d felt as if her heart would pound its way out of her chest or simply stop

  beating altogether. She wasn’t superstitious.

  She didn’t believe in omens. But that morning, as they’d been injecting the drug

  into her arm to put her to sleep while they administered an electric current strong

  enough to completely inactivate her heart, her last thought had been that she

  wanted to go home. She just wanted a few days to breathe free again. She

  looked at Rachel and knew there was no way her totally focused, driven lover

  would ever understand that. Rachel lived to work. So did Leslie. It was the

  strongest bond they shared.

  She couldn’t very well explain to Rachel what she didn’t understand herself.

  “I don’t want to go into the ofÞ ce every day and have people look at me as if

  there’s something wrong with me,” Leslie said, which was partially true. So

  many half-truths. “I’ll get this straightened out while I’m up there and be done

  with it.”

  “I don’t know that I can get away, darling. You know what my calendar—”

  “I don’t expect you to.” Leslie reached through the aluminum bars of the railing

  for Rachel’s hand. Her skin was smooth and soft. “I’ll miss you if you can’t Þ

  nd a way to come up, but I’ll understand.”

  Rachel leaned over the railing and kissed Leslie quickly. “Good.

  Call me when you get settled up there. I’ll see what I can do.”

  • 27 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “Okay. You should go before you’re late.” Leslie watched Rachel walk out the

  door, wondering when she would see her again. Rachel likely wouldn’t even

  miss her, not when she was this tied up in a big case. With an increasing surge of

  melancholy, Leslie admitted that she didn’t really mind.

  • 28 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  CHAPTER THREE

  Shortly after 6 a.m., Dev opened her eyes to sunshine and the unmistakable

  sounds of morning in the mountains. Birdsong.

  Wind rustling in the trees. A far-distant hum of an outboard motor. Her rented

  cabin was the last in a row of ten similar rustic log cabins that were situated at Þ

  fty-yard intervals within small clearings in the woods.

  A meandering dirt path connected them to one another and to the main lodge at

  Lakeview Cottages. Similar wooded trails led from each small front porch down

  to the water and a sliver of sandy beach. She couldn’t see the other cabins,

  most of which were still empty so early in the season, or the lodge where the

  owners also lived, nearly a quarter of a mile away. The solitude was welcome,

  and although meals were included in her weekly rent, she had yet to avail herself

  of that amenity in the three days she’d been at Lakeview. She hadn’t quite

  gotten over her uneasiness at Þ nding herself at the Harrises’.

  When she’d called the park ranger headquarters a month before to explain who

  she was and the work she’d be doing in the lake area that summer, Natalie had

  extended the professional courtesy of arranging local accommodations for her.

  Dev had been happy to have one fewer thing to do, her only stipulation being

  that she wanted a private cabin that was as far from the popular tourist haunts as

  possible. She hadn’t even considered that Natalie might reserve a place for her

  at the Harrises’ secluded resort just north of Bolton Landing, and when she’d

  found out, there hadn’t really been a good reason to refuse it. It was close to the

  Institute’s labs, and she doubted that anyone would recognize her. No one had.

  • 29 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Even so, when she’d arrived to check in, she couldn’t shake the disorienting

  effect that seeing the place again produced. She hadn’t expected to be bothered

  —it had all been over so long ago. Dead and buried and gone.

  At the moment, though, lying naked beneath a soft ß oral print sheet that smelled

  of wind and water, she was very glad to be there.

  Turning on her side, she just enjoyed the beauty outside her windows.

  She also reß ected on the question of why she was enjoying it alone.

  When Natalie had casually asked her to dinner at the end of the workday the

  night before, it had seemed natural to say yes. They’d worked well together all

  day, collecting samples, planning when and where to take others, and

  conversation had come easily.

  Dinner hadn’t had the feel of a date, not quite. It had the feel of two women

  who liked one another at Þ rst meeting, getting to know each other better. And

  when they’d returned to the park ofÞ ce so that Dev could pick up her truck for

  the drive back to her summer quarters and Natalie had casually kissed her good

  night as they’d stood in the dark parking lot, that had felt natural too.

  Recalling the kiss, Dev knew if she’d done any more than return it lightly and

  then step away, they might be waking up together right now. She suspected that

  would have been pleasant. It had been a long time since she’d met someone like

  Natalie, someone who might offer uncomplicated but satisfying intimacy. It was

  an unusual combination, and hard to Þ nd. Which was probably why she hadn’t

  had sex in over a year. But there was no rush, and she might be wrong. Not

  worth the risk.

  Still, thinking about it would give her something to enjoy in the shower. Smiling,

  she stood and stretched and headed to the small, neat bathroom to start her

  day.

  v

  At 1:00 that afternoon, Dev pulled her black Chevy Colorado into the parking

  lot at Lakeview, planning on a Þ fteen-minute stop to change clothes before

  driving to a meeting in Troy. As she climbed down from the cab, she nodded to

  Eileen Harris, who looked over from where she was leaning beneath the hood of

  her dusty green Jeep Cherokee. Dev recognized it and Þ gured it had to be

  twenty years old.

  “Hey,” Dev said. “Problem?”

  • 30 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  Eileen Harris, in her early Þ fties and still looking youthfully blond and Þ t in her

  baggy jeans and well-worn blue cable-knit sweater, gave an exasperated sigh.

  “The damn thing won’t start. Again.” She wiped sweat from her forehead with

  the back of her hand and left a streak of grease behind. She looked even

  younger then. “Paul has been promising to look at it, but you know how that

  goes. He’s ferrying a group of campers out to the islands right now.”

  Lake George Islands campsites, accessible only by boat, offered some of the

  best recreational Þ shing, hiking, bird watching, sailing, and camping in upstate

  New York. Not for the fainthearted, however, since everything had to be

  packed in by water, and private arrangements needed to be made for trips back

  to the mainland. If her husband had gone out with a group, he might not be back

  for a while.

  “I’d lend a hand,” Dev said, “but I don’t know as I’d be much help. Can I offer

  you a lift somewhere instead?”

  “Ordinarily it wouldn’t be such a problem,” Eileen said. “But I have to be at the

  train station in Rensselaer this afternoo
n, and even if I reach Paul and get him

  back here, and he can Þ x it, I don’t think I’ll make it in time.”

  “I’m about to drive down to Troy for a short meeting. If you’ve got guests

  coming in by train, I can pick them up and bring them back.”

  The Rensselaer train station stop on the Amtrak line that ran from New York

  City to Montréal was ten minutes from where she was going to be.

  “I hate to ask you to do that. I imagine you must be busy.”

  Dev sensed her hesitation and was embarrassed that Eileen Harris felt

  uncomfortable accepting a simple favor from her. Eileen’s reserve was probably

  due to the fact that Dev had avoided Eileen and her husband since her arrival.

  Dev hoped she could make up for the rudeness now. “It’s right on my way.

  Really.”

  “Well,” Eileen said, clearly still torn. She glanced once at the truck, then smiled

  gratefully at Dev. “That would be great. My daughter’s coming in from New

  York City, and I hate for her to wait there or Þ nd some other way up.”

  “Your daughter.” Dev heard her voice and it sounded normal, but she felt like

  she was hearing it underwater.

  “Yes. Leslie. She’s an attorney in Manhattan, and she called unexpectedly. Just

  this morning. It’s been a while since she’s been here, and I…”

  • 31 •

  RADCLY fFE

  Dev was trying to follow the slightly disjointed conversation but she didn’t seem

  to be catching all the words. Leslie. Coming here.

  She looked past Eileen down the grassy slope to the lake and the boathouse. It

  looked exactly the same as it had Þ fteen years before. She could actually hear

  the music.

  The party at the Harrises’ boathouse was in full swing when Dev arrived

  close to midnight. The parking lot was jammed with dusty pickup trucks, old

  sedans, and even a few shiny new graduation cars here and there. She rode her

  motorcycle onto the grass under some trees and sauntered down the slope

  toward the music and the swell of voices.

  Every teenager in the area would be there, including those who were only living

  at the lake for the summer while they worked at the area restaurants and resorts.

  It was the last big bash of the summer before half of the kids there left for

  college.

  Dev wouldn’t be leaving just yet. She’d missed the age cutoff for starting

  kindergarten with most of the kids close to her age by a month, so she still had a

  year before she graduated. She looked eighteen, although she had six months to

  go, but she never got carded when she bought beer or tried to get into the

  Painted Pony, a local drinking hangout.

  The fake ID she’d gotten mail order from a place in New York City didn’t hurt,

  either. Fortunately, there were so many kids in Lake George during the summer,

  it was all the cops could do to keep the really young ones under control. She

  never got stopped on her motorcycle, and no one bothered about what went on

  at private parties.

  Dev strode through the crowd that had spilled out onto the grass in front of the

  boathouse, looking straight ahead and ignoring the few people who stared in her

  direction. She knew she looked nothing like the pretty girls in their shorts and

  pastel blouses or even the boys who stood with their arms around those same

  girls, nuzzling their necks and casually brushing their Þ ngers under the curve of

  their breasts, arrogant with their male privilege. Knowing she didn’t Þ t and

  knowing why, Dev wore her tight jeans smeared with engine grease, her heavy

  motorcycle boots, and her frayed white T-shirt with angry pride. Her hair was

  shaggy and dark with sweat. She ignored even the few who greeted her; she

  had only one thing on her mind.

  The boathouse, extending out over the water on three sides, was as big as a

  basketball court and sweltering, the air thick with sweat and smoke and the

  sexual energy of a hundred teenagers in the last throes

  • 32 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  of innocence. Huge speakers in the back corners blasted Aerosmith, and

  writhing bodies Þ lled every inch of the room. Most of the lights were off and

  the cavernous space was so dim she could barely make out anyone’s features

  until she was almost in their face, but she knew she’d Þ nd her. She always did.

  It was like they were connected. Except only she felt it.

  She grabbed a beer from a row of coolers below one of the open windows,

  popped the top, and guzzled half of it. It was her fourth in two hours, but she

  didn’t feel it. The adrenaline rush of riding her bike at high speeds along the

  curving roads bordering the lake had burned off a lot of the alcohol. She loved

  the way the wind felt blasting against her face at sixty miles an hour, like another

  body molded to hers. The rush of speed and the engine throbbing and the pulse

  pulse pulse of the pressure against her body was enough to make her come

  sometimes.

  The pleasure was enough to make her forget for a little while that she was alone.

  She drank the beer and tossed the can into the corner. Leslie was perched in

  one of the open windows, her face turned toward the water, her hair blowing

  ever so lightly in the breeze. Moonlight highlighted her slim form, the curve of her

  breasts and the arch of her bent legs so beautiful it was like a pain in Dev’s

  heart. On the far side of the room, Leslie’s boyfriend Mike was standing with a

  group of boys shooting pool, his legs spread wide, posturing with the cue stick

  angled against his crotch like a phallic extension.

  Dev snagged two more beers and eased her way along the wall in the near dark

  until she was next to Leslie at the window. She placed a cold, sweating beer can

  against the outside of Leslie’s thigh and laughed softly when Leslie jumped with

  a small sound of surprise.

  “Want another beer?”

  “Dev!” Leslie smiled and took the beer. “I thought you said you weren’t

  coming.”

  Dev shrugged and leaned her shoulder against the window frame.

  The big rectangular window swung out on hinges and canted over the water, the

  glass reß ecting the shine of moonlight on the black surface of the lake.

  “Changed my mind.”

  “Yeah?” Leslie sipped the Budweiser, trying not to grimace. It was the guys’

  favorite, so that was what they had at the parties. “How come?”

  “Just thought I’d hang out here for a while.”

  • 33 •

  RADCLY fFE

  “I’m glad you came by.”

  “You leaving this weekend?” Dev knew she was, but somehow she kept hoping

  to hear Leslie say, No, Dev. I changed my mind. I don’t really want to go

  three hundred miles away from home. From you.

  But she wouldn’t, because that was just Dev’s dream. Not Leslie’s.

  “Uh-huh. Sunday. My folks are driving me down.”

  Dev thought she sounded just a little bit wistful, and that made the ache in her

  belly worse somehow. She dared to touch Leslie’s bare knee ever so lightly.

  Leslie’s skin, damp from the mist off the water, was cool against Dev’s hot Þ

  ngertips. “You’ll be okay.”

  “Oh, I know.” Leslie smiled brightly. “It’ll be gr
eat. I can’t wait.”

  “So you’re still gonna be a landscape architect, huh?”

  “Someday. You know, after college and everything.”

  Dev nodded, although she really didn’t know much about how college worked.

  She wasn’t really too interested, since she Þ gured she’d end up working in her

  parents’ convenience store after high school.

  They expected her to help out, save them the cost of hiring someone.

  Her older brother had left home as soon as he could, refusing to be tied to the

  drudgery that seemed to be their parents’ lives. So Dev worked, in his place,

  after school and on weekends.

  She didn’t care. She didn’t think about it much. When she looked into the

  future, she could never see anything except more of the same.

  Her. Alone.

  “So when will you be back? You know, vacation or whatever,”

  Dev asked.

  Even in the moonlight, Leslie’s face was shadowed. “Thanksgiving, I guess. Not

  that long.”

  “No, I guess n—”

  “Hey, Leslie!” One of Leslie’s girlfriends shouted above the din.

  “Come on, come outside. We’re gonna smoke a joint.”

  Dev knew the invitation didn’t include her. Her friendship with Leslie was

  something that Leslie’s crowd just ignored, clearly unable to understand why

  Leslie would give Dev the time of day. After all, Dev was a year behind them,

  and if that weren’t enough to make her company less than desirable, she was

  strange. Different. But for some reason, Leslie and she were always able to talk.

  It had started by accident the year before when they’d shared a table during

  study hall.

  Leslie was having trouble with a math problem, and since it was the

  • 34 •

  WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

  one subject that Dev could pick up just by sitting in class without doing any

  work at all, she’d shown Leslie how to set up the solution. The next day she

  helped her again, and somehow they’d started talking about other things.

  Everything, really.

  Dev had never met anyone she could talk to so easily. Leslie always listened.

  Always made her feel like what she had to say was important and interesting.

  They never met outside of school, never visited each other’s homes. Never did

  anything social together except sit for an hour every few days on the lawn