Doctor Sleep: A Novel

That’s quite a deductive leap, especially when it’s you and I who look alike, not you and Abra—she gets most of her looks from her father.” Lucy paused, thinking. “But of course you share another family trait—Dave says you call it the shining. That’s how you knew, isn’t it?”
    Dan shook his head. “I made a friend the year my father died. His name was Dick Hallorann, and he was the cook at the Overlook Hotel. He also had the shining, and he told me lots of people had a little bit of it. He was right. I’ve met plenty of people along the way who shine to a greater or lesser degree. Billy Freeman, for one. Which is why he’s with Abra right now.”
    John swung the Suburban into the little parking area behind Concetta’s condo, but for the time being, none of them got out. In spite of her worry about her daughter, Lucy was fascinated by this history lesson. Dan didn’t have to look at her to know it.
    “If it wasn’t the shining, what was it?”
    “When we were going out to Cloud Gap on the Riv, Dave mentioned that you found a trunk in storage at Concetta’s building.”
    “Yes. My mother’s. I had no idea Momo had saved some of her things.”
    “Dave told John and me that she was quite the party girl, back in the day.” It was actually Abra that Dave had been talking to, via telepathic link, but this was something Dan felt it might be better for his newly discovered half sister not to know, at least for the time being.
    Lucy flashed Dave the reproachful look reserved for spouses who have been telling tales out of school, but said nothing.
    “He also said that when Alessandra dropped out of SUNY Albany, she was doing her student teaching at a prep school in Vermont or Massachusetts. My father taught English—until he lost his job for hurting a student, that is—in Vermont. At a school called Stovington Prep. And according to my mother, he was quite the party boy in those days. Once I knew that Abra and Billy were safe, I ran some numbers in my head. They seemed to add up, but I felt if anyone knew for sure, it would be Alessandra Anderson’s mother.”
    “ Did she?” Lucy asked. She was leaning forward now, her hands on the console between the front seats.
    “Not everything, and we didn’t have long together, but she knew enough. She didn’t remember the name of the school where your mother student-taught, but she knew it was in Vermont. And that she’d had a brief affair with her supervising teacher. Who was, she said, a published writer.” Dan paused. “My father was a published writer. Only a few stories, but some of them were in very good magazines, like the Atlantic Monthly . Concetta never asked her for the man’s name, and Alessandra never volunteered it, but if her college transcript is in that trunk, I’m pretty sure you’ll find that her supervisor was John Edward Torrance.” He yawned and looked at his watch. “That’s all I can do right now. Let’s go upstairs. Three hours’ sleep for all of us, then on to upstate New York. The roads will be empty, and we should be able to make great time.”
    “Do you swear she’s safe?” Lucy asked.
    Dan nodded.
    “All right, I’ll wait. But only for three hours. As for sleeping . . .” She laughed. The sound had no humor in it.
    9
    When they entered Concetta’s condo, Lucy strode directly to the microwave in the kitchen, set the timer, and showed it to Dan. He nodded, then yawned again. “Three thirty a.m., we’re out of here.”
    She studied him gravely. “I’d like to go without you, you know. Right this minute.”
    He smiled a little. “I think you better hear the rest of the story first.”
    She nodded grimly.
    “That and the fact that my daughter needs to sleep off whatever is in her system are the only things holding me here. Now go lie down before you fall down.”
    Dan and John took the guest room. The wallpaper and furnishings made it clear that it had been mostly kept for one special little girl, but Chetta must have had other guests from time to time, because there were twin beds.
    As they lay in the dark, John said: “It’s not a coincidence that this hotel you stayed in as a child is also in Colorado, is it?”
    “No.”
    “This True Knot is in the same town?”
    “They are.”
    “And the hotel was haunted?”
    The ghostie people, Dan thought. “Yes.”
    Then John said something that surprised Dan and temporarily brought him back from the edge of sleep. Dave had been right—the easiest