"You can't justify keeping her now."
"You're wrong." Linden kept her voice down. "I can't justify releasing her. What you just did is unconscionable."
"I reached her," he objected. "That's more than you can do."
"Oh, you reached her, all right," Linden returned.
"That's pretty damn obvious. It's the results I object to."
Roger frowned uncertainly. "You think she's better off the way she is." He appeared genuinely confused by Linden's reaction.
"I think-" Linden began, then stopped herself. He was beyond argument. More quietly, she stated, "I think that until you bring me a court order to the contrary, she stays here. End of discussion.
"The front door"-she pointed along the hall-"is that way."
For an instant, anger seemed to flicker in his dissociated eyes. But then he shrugged, and the glimpse vanished.
"We'll resolve this later, Dr. Avery," he said as if he were sure. "There's just one more thing.
"Can you tell me what happened to my father's wedding ring?"
Without transition, Linden went cold. In the Land, Covenant's white gold ring was the symbol and instrument of his power. With it, he had wielded wild magic against the Despiser.
Roger wanted more than a chance to take his mother's place. He wanted his father's theurgy as well.
"I understand he always wore it," he went on, "but it wasn't found on his body. I've asked Megan Roman and Sheriff Lytton, but they don't know where it is.
It's mine now. I want it."
Old habit caused her to raise her hand to the irrefusable circle of the ring under her blouse. Roger meant to bear white gold to the Land so that he could tear down the Arch of Time, set Lord Foul free. The Despiser had already renewed his assault on the beauty of the Earth, and an ordeal that had nearly destroyed Linden once before was about to begin again No. No. It was impossible. Such things had exhausted their reality for her ten years ago.
Nevertheless she believed it. Or she believed that Roger Covenant believed it. And if he believed it He smiled his vacant smile at her.
-then she could not afford to let him know that she had guessed his intent. If he realized that his plans were endangered, he might do something she would be unable to prevent.
Already she might have given away too much. He could have seen the ingrained movement of her hand.
People were going to die A heartbeat later, however, she recovered her courage.
"I have it," she answered. She did not mean to diminish herself with lies. And she would not disavow her loyalty to his father. "I've had it ever since he died."
Roger nodded. "That's why Sheriff Lytton didn't find it."
"Your father left it to me," Linden stated flatly. "I intend to keep it."
"It belongs to me," he countered. "His will left everything to my mother. I inherited it yesterday."
She shook her head. "No, you didn't. It came to me before he died. It isn't part of his estate."
In fact, Covenant had not handed her the ring directly: she had retrieved it when the Despiser had slain him with its argent fire.
Nevertheless she considered it hers as much as if he had wedded her with it.
"I see." Roger frowned again. "That's a problem, Dr.
Avery. I need it. I can't take her place without it. Not entirely. And if I don't take her place, she'll never be completely free." He seemed unconcerned that he had revealed so much. Perhaps he did not consider Linden discerning enough to understand him.
"But it's not my problem," she said precisely. "We're done here. Good-bye, Mr.
Covenant. The door is-"
"I know," he interrupted. "The door is that way.
"Doctor Avery"-now he sneered her title-"you have no idea what you're interfer ing with." Then he turned and strode away.
Oh, she had some idea. Despite his power to disturb his mother, he clearly under stood nothing about the woman who opposed him. But she could not imagine that she had any advantage over him.
She could only guess what he might do next.
Urgently she wanted to know how he had earned his knowledge.
Her stomach clenched as she reentered Joan's room to explain the situation as best she could to Amy Clint.
'the time she returned to her office, her resolve had hardened, taken shape. She could not allow herself to be drawn into Roger Covenant's mad designs, whatever they might be. She had made her life and her commitments here: people whom she had chosen to serve and love were dependent on her. And Joan deserved better than whatever her son might do to her.
Linden had to stop Roger now, before he carried his intentions any further. To do that, she needed to know more about him.
She also needed help. Joan was not her only responsibility. She had other duties, other loves, which she did not mean to set aside.
Clearing space on her desk, she pulled the phone toward her and began to make calls.
First she contacted Bill Coty, the amiable old man who ran what passed for security at County Hospital. He was generally considered a harmless, ineffectual duffer; but Linden thought otherwise. She had often suspected that he might rise to a larger challenge if he ever encountered one. Certainly he had made himself useful during the crisis following Covenant's death, when the hospital's resources had been stretched by burn victims, concerned citizens, and hysterical relatives. His characteristic smile twisted with nausea, he had soothed some people and shepherded others while shielding the medical staff from interference.
And he could call on half a dozen volunteer security "officers," burly individuals who would rush to the hospital if they were needed.
"I know this is going to sound odd," she told him when he came on the line, "but I think there's a man in the area who might try to kidnap one of my patients. His name is Roger Covenant.
"You remember his mother, Joan. He thinks he can take care of her better than we can. And he doesn't seem to care about legal niceties like custody."
"That poor woman." For a moment, Coty sounded inattentive, distracted by memories. Then, however, he surprised Linden by asking, "How violent do you think this Roger is?"
Violent-? She had not considered Joan's son in those terms.
"I ask, Dr. Avery," the old man went on, "because I want my guys ready for him. If he's just going to break a window and try to carry her off, any one of us can stop him. But if he comes armed-" He chuckled humorlessly. "I might ask a couple of my guys to bring guns. I'm sure you know we aren't bonded for firearms. But I don't want a repeat of what happened ten years ago."
Linden scrambled to adjust her assessment of Roger Covenant. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Mr. Coty. I just met him this morning. I don't think he's in his right mind. But nothing about him seemed violent,"
apart from his emotional brutality toward his mother.
"Guns might be an overreaction."
Could she be wrong about Roger's intentions? Was she inventing the danger? That was possible. If so, he hardly deserved to be shot for his dysfunction.
"Whatever you say, Doctor." Bill's tone suggested no disappointment. Apparently he did not fancy himself- or his volunteers-as gunslingers. "We'll start to keep an eye on her room tonight. Unless he's stupid, he won't try anything during the day. I'll make sure one of my guys is on duty all night."
Grateful as much for his lack of skepticism as for his willingness to help, Linden thanked him and hung up.
Could she leave the matter in his hands? she asked herself. Did she need to do more?
Yes, she did. Joan was not Roger's only potential victim. If something happened to Linden herself, Jeremiah would be lost. He was entirely dependent on her.
The simple thought of him made her glance out the window at her car. She felt a sudden yearning to forget Joan and go to him; make sure that he was all right Sandy would have called if he were not.
Roger did not know he existed.
Her hands trembled slightly as she dialed Megan Roman's number.
Megan had been Thomas Covenant's lawyer, and then his estate's, for more than twenty years. During much of that time, her diligence-as she freely admitted-had been inspired by shame. His leprosy had disturbed her deeply. She had felt toward him a plain, primitive, almost cellular terror; an innominate conviction that his disease was a contagion which would spread through the county as it would through her own flesh, like wildfire.
But she was a lawyer, a thinking woman, dismayed by her own irrationality. While he had lived, she had waged a running battle with her alarm, continuing to work for him because she was ashamed of herself. And after his death she had become a staunch and vocal advocate for the kind of tolerance and social responsibility which had eluded her during his life.
The bloody events that had brought about his murder should not have been allowed to happen. Like Julius Berenford, she had made a personal crusade out of trying to ensure that they never happened again.
Linden considered Megan Roman one of her few friends. Certainly Megan had always given Linden her assistance unstintingly. After Jeremiah's maiming by his stricken mother, and his troubled history in the county's various foster facilities, his adoption had posed a legal tangle that Linden could not have unsnarled for herself.
While she waited for Megan's receptionist to put her call through, Linden had time to wonder why Megan had not already contacted her about Roger Covenant.
As his father's executor, she must have been dealing with him for years.
"Linden" Megan had a professionally hearty phone manner that Linden disliked. It sounded false to her.
"This is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do you out of?"
Vexed in spite of herself, Linden responded bluntly, "Why didn't you warn me about Roger Covenant?"
At once, Megan changed her tone. "Oh, God. What has he done?"
"You first," Linden insisted. She needed a moment to absorb Megan's immediate assumption that Roger had done something. "Why didn't you warn me?"
"Well, shit, Linden," Megan muttered uncomfortably.
"Will you believe that it wasn't any of your business? He's a client. I'm not supposed to talk about him." "Sure," Linden conceded. "But that's not the only reason you didn't tell me." Clearly Megan distrusted him The lawyer hesitated, then asked, "Will you believe that I just didn't think of it?" "No. That I won't believe. I've known you too long."
"Well, shit," Megan repeated. "What good is having friends if they know you too well to believe you?
"All right, all right," she went on as if Linden had objected. "I didn't tell you because"-she faltered momentarily-"well, because I was trying to spare you.
I know, you're a big girl, you can take care of yourself.
But he's Thomas Covenant's son, for God's sake. That means something to you, something I don't understand."
Deliberately Linden bit at her sore lip. That smaller pain steadied her.
"You don't talk about it," Megan said more harshly.
"You hardly knew him. You've always said you just wanted to help him with Joan. But whenever I ask you about it, you don't really answer my questions. Instead I get the distinct impression that you had more at stake than you let on. He looms for you somehow. Your whole face changes when his name comes up.
"I don't know what his son means to you, but I thought it might be something painful." Her tone conveyed a brusque shrug. "So I wanted to spare you.
"Now it's your turn,' she added before Linden could respond. "'Warn' you? Why should I need to warn you about anything? What has he done?"
But Linden was reluctant to describe Roger's encounter with his mother. She feared hearing the experience put into words.
"He came to see me an hour ago," she said slowly. "He thinks I should give him custody of his mother."
Words would make it more real. "And he's very insistent ... ," Linden trailed into uncertainty.
"Yes?" her friend prompted.
"Megan, you're going to think I've lost my mind." She touched Covenant's ring for courage. "He made me believe that he intends to take her if I don't let her go."
When Lord Foul put forth his power, people died. The beauty of the world was torn apart. He had to be stopped here.
"Oh, God," Megan groaned. "Made you believe it how?"
"I don't know how to explain it," Linden admitted.
After all these years, she could not now suddenly tell Megan what had happened to her during Covenant's death. If she did so, she would lose all of her credibility. "Will you believe that he just gave me a bad feeling?
"I've been working with unbalanced people for a long time, and I think I have an instinct for it. He's off-kilter somehow. And I know for a fact that he didn't listen to a thing I said.
"He seems obsessed with the idea of taking care of Joan. Nothing else affects him. As far as he's concerned, she belongs with him. End of story. I'm afraid there aren't any ordinary social or legal or even practical considerations that will hold him back"
Megan did not reply for a long moment. During the silence, Linden heard a ticking sound like a heartbeat along the phone line. Then it stopped. At last Megan said slowly, "In fact, I do believe you. I have a bad feeling about him myself. And I can't explain it, either.
"Do you know-?" She paused, apparently gathering her thoughts. "We started corresponding three years ago. He wrote to me when he turned eighteen. At that point he was still technically a ward of the state-his grandparents never actually adopted him-but the welfare people found it easier to let him start managing his own affairs.
"He wanted to know everything about his father's estate. How much money there was, where it came from exactly, how it was invested, what kind of real property was involved. He wanted to make all the arrangements to take possession of the estate the minute he turned twenty-one. He understood that much about the law, at any rate. And he wanted to know everything I could tell him about his father personally. Hell, he even wanted to know about you, even though you hardly knew Thomas Covenant."
Linden stifled an impulse to ask Megan what she had told Roger. Instead she looked out the window again.
Her car seemed to call to her, insisting that she drive home; that Jeremiah needed her protection.
"But he never said a word about his mother," added Megan. "Based on our correspondence and conversations, I would have thought he didn't know where she was. Or care."
He had not discussed Joan with Megan because he had not wanted to forewarn anyone.
Linden forced herself to turn away from the window.