MIRROR IMAGE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She gave a little shiver of joy because her ruse had worked.

"Are you cold?"

"What? Cold? No." She recklessly groped for something to divert him. "What's that?"

He followed her nod to the package he had carried in with him. "Oh, it's your jewelry."

''Jewelry?'' Her bubble of happiness burst. She swallowed with difficulty.

''What you were wearing the day of the plane crash. The hospital called the law office today to remind me it was still in their safe. I stopped there on my way here to pick it up. I kept forgetting about it." He extended the envelope to her. Avery stared at it as though it were a poisonous snake and was just as loath to touch it. Seeing no way to avoid it, however, she took it from him. "I didn't take the time to inventory the contents," he said, "but maybe you should now.''

She laid the envelope in her lap. "I will later."

"I thought you'd want your things back.''

"Oh, I do. It's just not very comfortable to wear jewelry right now."  She formed a fist, then slowly opened it, extending her fingers.  "My hands are almost back to normal, but they still get sore. I think I'd have trouble slipping my rings on and off.''

''That would be a first, wouldn't it? For your wedding ring, anyway."

The harsh words took her aback. He wasn't wearing a wedding ring, either, she noted, and was tempted to point that out in Carole's defense, but she curbed the impulse. If Carole had removed her wedding ring for illicit purposes, as he'd insinuated, the subject was best avoided—for now.

Tate sat down on the edge of the bed. The hostile silence stretched out. Avery was the first to break it. "Did the trip go as well as you had hoped?"

"Yeah, it was fine. Tiring as hell."

"I saw you on television nearly every night. The crowds seemed enthusiastic.''

"Everybody was pleased with the response I got."

"All the political analysts are predicting that you'll win the primary by a landslide."

"I hope so."

They lapsed into another silence while each tried, without much success, to keep from staring at the other.

"How is Mandy?"

He gave a dismissive shrug. "She's fine.''

Avery frowned doubtfully.

"Okay, not so fine." He stood again and began pacing the length of the bed, his boot heels making crescent impressions in the carpeting. "Mom says she's still having nightmares. She wakes up screaming nearly every night, sometimes even during her nap. She moves around the house like a little ghost." He extended his hands as though reaching for something, then closed them around nothingness. ''Not quite there, you know? Nobody's getting through—not me, not the psychologist."

 "I asked Zee to bring her to see me. She said you had told her not to."

"That's right."

''Why?''

"I didn't think it would be a good idea for her to come when I wasn't here."

She didn't press her luck by asking why. It might spark another argument she wasn't yet equipped to handle.  "I miss her. Once I'm at home, she'll do better." His skepticism was plain. "Maybe."

"Does she ever ask for me?"

''No.''

Avery lowered her gaze to her lap. "I see."