Mind Over Matter

police pursued the lead?”
    “They didn’t have much faith in it, naturally enough, but they sent out cars to look for the house she’d described. I don’t know who was more stunned when they found it, Peter and myself or the police. They got Matthew out without a struggle because the two kidnappers with him weren’t expecting any trouble. The third accomplice was in San Fransico, making all the calls. The police also found the car he’d been abducted in there.
    “Clarissa stayed until Matthew was home, until he was safe. Later he told me about the room he’d been held in. It was exactly as she’d described it.”
    “Mrs. Van Camp, a lot of people claimed that the abduction and the dramatic rescue of your son was a publicity stunt to hype the release of your first movie since his birth.”
    “That didn’t matter to me.” With only her voice, with only her eyes, she showed her complete contempt. “They could say and believe whatever they wanted. I had my son back.”
    “And you believe Clarissa DeBasse is responsible for that?”
    “I know she is.”
    “Cut,” Sam mumbled to his cameraman before he walkedto Alice. “Mrs. Van Camp, if we can get a few reaction shots and over-the-shoulder angles, we’ll be done.”
    He could go now. David knew there was no real reason for him to remain during the angle changes. The shoot was essentially finished, and had been everything he could have asked for. Alice Van Camp was a consummate actress, but no one watching this segment would consider that she’d played a part. She’d been a mother, reliving an experience every mother fears. And she had, by the telling, brought the core of his project right back to Clarissa.
    He thought perhaps he understood a little better why A.J. had had mixed feelings about the interview. Alice Van Camp had suffered in the telling. If his instincts were right, Clarissa would have suffered, too. It seemed to him that empathy was an intimate part of her gift.
    Nevertheless he stayed behind the camera and restlessly waited until the shoot was complete. Though he detected a trace of weariness in her eyes, Alice escorted the crew to the door herself.
    “A remarkable woman,” Alex commented as they walked down the circular steps toward the drive.
    “And then some. But you’ve got one yourself.”
    “I certainly do.” Alex pulled out the cigar he’d been patiently waiting for for more than three hours. “I might be a little biased, but I believe you have one, as well.”
    Frowning, David paused by his car. “I haven’t got A.J.” It occurred to him that it was the first time he had thought of it in precisely those terms.
    “Clarissa seems to think you do.”
    He turned back and leaned against his car. “And approves?”
    “Shouldn’t she?”
    He pulled out a cigarette. The restlessness was growing. “I don’t know.”
    “You were going to ask me something earlier, before we went in. Do you want to ask me now?”
    It had been nagging at him. David wondered if by stating it aloud it would ease. “Clarissa isn’t an ordinary woman. Does it bother you?”
    Alex took a contented puff on his cigar. “It certainly intrigues me, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’ve had one or two uneasy moments. What I feel for her cancels out the fact that I have five senses and she has what we might call six. You’re having uneasy moments.” He smiled a little when David said nothing. “Clarissa doesn’t believe in keeping secrets. We’ve talked about her daughter.”
    “I’m not sure A.J. would be comfortable with that.”
    “No, maybe not. It’s more to the point what you’re comfortable with. You know the trouble with a man your age, David? You consider yourself too old to go take foolish risks and too young to trust impulse. I thank God I’m not thirty.” With a smile, he walked over to hitch a ride back to town with Sam.
    He was too old to take foolish risks, David thought as he pulled his door open. And a man who trusted impulse usually landed flat on his face. But he wanted to see her. He wanted to see her now.
     
    A.J.’s briefcase weighed heavily as she pulled it from the front seat. Late rush-hour traffic streamed by the front of her building. If she’d been able to accomplish more during office hours, she reminded herself as she lugged up her case, she wouldn’t have to plow through papers tonight. She would have accomplished more if she hadn’t been uneasy, thinking of the Van Camp interview.
    It was