by G M Mckay
The short hallway was lined with tightly closed doors and there was no sign of the cat and yet also nowhere that I could see for him to hide. I crept down the hall, too afraid to test any of the doorknobs in case someone was behind one of them.
Nothing, I sighed as I reached the last closed door. Where could he have gone?
I paused as a low scrabbling, scratching noise sounded just behind the last door. Was that Morris clawing again? Or was it something more sinister?
Holding my breath, I reached out to touch the heavy wooden door, turning the knob ever so slowly. The scratching stopped, and then suddenly there was a sharp cry and the sound of breaking glass. I thought I could make out a faint cry for help.
“Hello,” I called, wrenching at the doorknob but it was stuck fast. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
I tried the door again just to be certain it was locked, and then scanned up and down the hall to see if there might be another way in. Maybe there’s a secret passage to get in, I thought, Xan said something about that in all the drama this morning.
I searched the hallway, running my hands along the walls but try as I might I could not find any sign of hidden doorways or secret passages.
Another cold breeze passed over me and I shuddered involuntarily, rubbing my arms to get rid of the chill. There was a low scraping noise behind me like that of a key turning in a lock followed by the creaking of hinges. I spun around just in time to see the door swing open of its own accord.
I froze, my heart beating wildly in my chest and my hair standing on end. What in the world was going on here?
I was so scared that I let out a little scream when Morris trotted out of the room and rubbed up against my legs as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
What on earth? I held my breath and forced myself toward the doorway, even though every nerve in my body was urging me to run hard in the opposite direction. The room was utterly dark. I reached in and ran my hand tentatively up the wall on the inside of the door, sighing with relief when my fingers found a light switch.
Here goes nothing, I thought, flipping the switch upward.
Soft ambient light flooded the room, revealing a canopy bed covered in silver brocade at least three times the size of my own bed in the guest room. The chamber was nicely decorated with wooden desks, dressers, bookshelves, and sea-chests everywhere. Thick curtains covered the wide double windows so that no light seeped through.
I froze again in the doorway, my hand over my mouth. There in the middle of the gigantic bed, lying still as death with her eyes open, was Great Aunt Ruth.
Chapter 13
I stood frozen, turned to stone for what felt like an eternity, before finally my blood started pumping again and I sprang into action.
“Aunt Ruth,” I cried rushing to her bedside. As I drew close, I saw her take one long, unsteady breath. Her eyes flickered and her gaze drifted toward me. She was alive, but barely.
“Aunt Ruth?” I said uncertainly. “It’s Jillian, can you hear me?”
Her mouth worked up and down a few times as she struggled to speak. I leaned as close as I dared trying to catch her hoarse whisper.
“The lady,” she wheezed. “The lady rides nine.”
Ugh, the Lady again. Why was it always about that damned lady?
“Forget her. Are you hurt? Do you need help?”
“Look to the lady,” she said, breathing raggedly. “The lady rides nine.”
That’s what the scroll said, I thought, my mind whirling. It must be important. Either way I have to help her get out of here. We need the police, and a hospital. I can’t believe she’s been kept prisoner here all this time. I can’t believe Aimee, Estelle and Belinda would lie like this. Were they all in on it?
I looked down at her frail body and knew that she was in no position to move. I had to go find Gil and Xan and get us out of here. I hated to leave her like this, though.
“Hang on just a little longer, Aunt Ruth,” I told her. “I’m going to go get help.”
“Wait,” she said clutching my sleeve. “The lady rides nine.”
“Okay, yes, that’s nice,” I told her patting her sleeve, “but I need to help you now. We need to go to the hospital.”
I turned toward the doorway reluctantly, not wanting to leave her all by herself. Someone here in the house, maybe everyone here, wanted her harmed. And I had no idea whom I could trust.
“Stay here,” I said, although it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere.
I took one step toward the door and then heard a heavy tread out on the landing. I looked around the room in a panic, hoping to find a quick place to hide, but by then it was too late.
The door flew open in one swift move and Belinda framed the doorway, holding a tray.
“Jillian,” she said in bewilderment. “How on earth did you get in here? I thought we were going to meet in the library.”
Well, that answers my question about Belinda, I thought sadly. I’d just been beginning to really like and trust her. Her sister Betty would be so disappointed.
Belinda stared at me quizzically and then set the tray carefully down on the dresser beside the door.
“Now, now, child,” she said coaxingly, looking into my face. “I can see you’re upset but it’s not what you think at all. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll explain everything?”
“I don’t think so,” I said defensively, backing away from her and eyeing up the open door. If only I could get her to come further into the room, maybe I could make a break for it and reach the door before she could. “You lied to us about Ruth being away in France or Florida or whatever you made up, and you’re clearly keeping her captive here. I’ve seen how movies like this end; you’re going to try and lock me up and kill me, too, because I know too much. You won’t get away with this; lots of people know where we are.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” Belinda said in exasperation. “Why are young people always so dramatic? Nobody’s killing anybody, Jillian. Now if you’ll just listen, I’ll explain everything.”
“I think you can tell the police your explanation. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Oh, my dear, I’m afraid that won’t do at all,” she said, her smile dropping away. She moved closer and I shrank backward with an involuntary cry.
But instead of attacking, she reached out for a velvet cord that hung from a hook just inside the door. She pulled hard on it three times and I heard a bell chime deep within the house.
“Now we wait,” she said, standing with her body blocking the door. She stared at me curiously. “How on earth did you get in here, though? I’m sure the door was locked.”
“I don’t know,” I snapped, not in the mood to answer any of her questions. “I only came upstairs to catch Morris, but he disappeared. And when I came to this doorway, I could hear him inside and there was the sound of breaking glass and someone screamed.”
“Was there?” Belinda said sharply, peering around the room. I turned to look over my shoulder, too, wondering what I’d really heard. Aunt Ruth didn’t really look in the position to have been up out of bed breaking things. Had someone else been in here? Was there another way to get out to the room?
“Yes,” I said slowly, “the door wouldn’t open at first and then suddenly it just popped open on its own. I don’t really understand it, either, honestly.”
Belinda looked at me thoughtfully. “It’s probably The Lady. She’s attached to Ruth, you see.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I snapped, my nerves on edge. “I don’t have time for more lies.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but then turned at the sound of feet stomping up the stairs.
I shrank back even further, bracing myself for the worst. Where, oh where, was Gil now that I truly needed him? Surely a half an hour had passed by now.
Jacob pushed into the doorway, holding his cane between his hands like a baseball bat and I was reminded of my dream when that very cane was used to bludgeon Great Aunt Ruth to death
.
“I knew it,” he growled, “I knew she was trouble the first time I laid eyes on her. I should have finished her off while I had the chance.”
“Now, now,” Belinda said sharply, “that’s enough of that. There won’t be any more violence in this house. Let’s go downstairs and talk it over properly like we should have done in the first place.”
“All of you are in on it?” I said, fueled by a mixture of anger and sadness. “You all hated Ruth enough to kidnap her?”
“No, of course not, dear,” Belinda said, “Ruthie is like a sister to me, none of us would ever hurt her. We’re just trying to protect her. All will be explained.”
I scooped up Morris from where he was lying next to Ruth and took one last look at her pale face, hoping that I could figure out a way to help her, and myself, out of this mess.
“Go ahead,” Jacob said roughly, giving me a little push toward the hall.
With every trembling step I took, I half expected to be shoved down the staircase or bludgeoned with Jacob’s cane so I heaved a breath of relief when I made it safely to the bottom.
They shut Morris and I into one of the small, windowless sitting rooms without another word. As soon as the door locked behind me, I sank into one of the chairs by the fire and buried my face in Morris’s fur. I was too shocked by what had happened to even cry.
I don’t know how long I sat there but finally there was a noise by the door and Morris twisted himself out of my grasp and leapt nimbly to the ground.
I looked up to see Estelle leaning on her crutches in the doorway, a pained expression on her face.
“Oh Jilly,” she said earnestly, “I’m so sorry you found out this way. Now you must think we’re all heartless monsters but, honestly, everything we did was to help Ruth, not to hurt her.”
I narrowed my eyes in her direction, not saying a word. There was nothing she could say at this point that would make me trust her again. If, no when, I got out of here I would go to the police and make sure that every one of them spent a long time in jail.
“You don’t believe me, I know. But I’ll tell you everything once everyone gets here. I promise.”
We sat for ages in an uncomfortable, miserable silence until Gil and Xan pushed into the room, cheeks still flushed from riding.
Belinda followed closely behind, and she and Jacob stood blocking the doorway, a barrier to keep us from escaping.
“Jilly, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Gil asked, his gaze zeroing in on the wretched expression on my face.
I hadn’t allowed myself to feel too much panic up until now, but the sight of him made me weak with relief and tears sprang to my eyes.
“I have no idea,” I said bitterly. “Great Aunt Ruth isn’t on vacation at all. She’s here and she’s alive, but barely. They’ve been hiding her upstairs all this time.”
“I knew it,” Gil swore and strode to my side, putting a protective hand on my shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
“No, but I want to go home,” I said.
“We won’t keep you against your will and I can assure you we didn’t kidnap Ruth,” Estelle said earnestly, her eyes fixed on Xan. “We love her and we only want what’s best for her.”
“That’s certainly not what it looked like,” I said.
“I know, and I’m sorry you had to see her that way. Ruth has been sick off and on since spring. She’s been seeing her doctor regularly and doing tests at the hospital, but they can’t figure out what’s wrong. She didn’t want to tell anyone; she wanted to keep it a secret. She thought that if her family knew that she was failing that they’d descend on her like locusts, trying to get their hands on her money. She just assumed she’d get better … but she hasn’t.”
“But if she’s that sick then she should be in the hospital,” Xan said quietly.
“Oh, but she’d hate that. Doctor Crane is an old family friend and he comes every few days to check on her. She’s had the best of care. But she’s old and weak; there’s only so much the doctor can do to keep her alive. It was her wish to stay in her own home and the doctor respects that. Ruthie is much better off staying here with us.”
“Fine,” Gilbert said, “let’s take your word on that part for now. But why keep it a secret from us? Why lock her in her room?”
“Because, before she became very ill, she warned us that we were to do our utmost to protect the estate from her relatives. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust you specifically, but we’d promised her to keep her secret.”
“Estelle,” Aimee hissed sharply from the doorway. She pushed past Belinda and Jacob and stood in the middle of the room, her hair undone and standing up wildly in all directions “Stop talking, you’re ruining everything.”
“No, I’m not,” Estelle insisted. “Jill discovered Ruth on her own so there’s no point in keeping secrets anymore. I trust them and I think they can help.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. It’s not your secret to share. We can find it on our own.”
“Now, now,” Belinda said, “I agree with Estelle. We haven’t been able to find it so far, have we? And we’re running out of time. Maybe they can help.”
“You’re all talking in circles,” Xan said. “What are we supposed to be finding?”
“Ruth’s will,” Estelle said with a sigh. “She’d given us strict instructions to take it to her lawyer if she ever fell too ill. But when I went to find it, it was gone.”
“Can’t you just ask her where it is, though? She spoke to me upstairs.”
“Did she?” Estelle asked in surprise. “Are you sure? She hasn’t said anything to us for days. She’s in some sort of semi-lucid state that she won’t fully wake up from. The doctor honestly has no idea what’s wrong. She can eat, she can blink, and we think she can understand a few things, but she’s not in her right mind at all. We owe it to her to find the will. Otherwise, the estate will revert back to her awful family. No offense.”
“But how do you even know that there’s a will at all?” I asked.
There was a long silence while everyone in the room exchanged glances.
“Well,” Estelle said slowly, “because the night that she first fell into this state, all she could talk about was her will.
“There was a terrific storm that evening and the power kept flickering off and on. Ruth was frantic that she wouldn’t get the will finished. She was up all night revising and rewriting it. It was like she was possessed and couldn’t stop. She kept us up, too, what with her prowling around the house and calling us every time she had a new version for us to witness. It was awful. I don’t even know how many of them she made.
“What do you mean by them?” Xan asked. “There can only be one final will.”
“Who are you to say how many wills a person can have?” Jacob snapped, glaring at Xan. “You city folk think you can come in here and—”
“That’s enough, Jacob,” Belinda interrupted gently. “As Estelle was saying, the night Ruthie wrote her will she was so agitated. That storm didn’t help her nerves. She felt … well, she felt that someone was watching her and maybe even trying to influence her. It was horrible to see her like that.”
“Who did she think was watching her?” Gil asked, frowning.
“She never said but I don’t think … I don’t think it was a real person. Over the last few months she’d begun to act strangely. You know she sent away most of the staff; first the housekeepers, and then the gardeners and finally, the stable help. She’d become paranoid. She thought that someone was watching her. Something, well, evil.”
We all fell into silent contemplation.
“Anyway,” Estelle went on, “Ruth spent all night in her office writing and writing. She wouldn’t let any of us go to bed. She just kept ringing the bell every hour or so and calling us in two at a time to witness each will. But she didn’t share the contents. We’re not sure if it’s the same will or if she changed her mind over and over again. There could be one will or there could be five or eve
n ten. We’re not sure. At this point we’d be glad to find just one of them.”
“What do you mean? Where did they go?” Xan asked.
“We have no idea,” Estelle said. “I came into the office that morning and found her slumped over her desk. There was a pen in her hand, but the wills where nowhere to be found.”
“Wow, so you have no idea who will inherit the estate then?” Xan said.
“No, I guess we don’t,” Estelle said, sending him a sharp look. “Ruth had talked at one point about leaving the whole estate to charity, so it’s quite possible that’s what she did. She definitely didn’t want to leave it to her family, although she did speak highly of you, Xan. I think she secretly wanted you to come help us train the horses since I’m such a washout on jumping. So if any family members were to inherit, it would be you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t turn free money away,” Xan said, “but, I never put much faith in inheriting anything. I wouldn’t have minded if she’d wanted to be my sponsor, though. I’ve always wanted a sponsor.”
“Of course, our greatest wish is to have the estate stay as it is,” Estelle said firmly. “It would be awful to see the horses sold and all of Ruthie’s hard work turn to nothing. And I would miss this place terribly.”
“As would we all,” Belinda agreed, wiping a stray tear off her cheek. “This has been my home for over fifty years. I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s gone.”
“And poor Jacob has lost the most,” Estelle added sympathetically, looking toward the door where Jacob still stood guard.
“None of that, it’s not over yet,” he said roughly, gripping his cane with both hands. “You’re all talking about her as if she’s already dead; she still might rally.”
“Of course she might,” Estelle assured him hastily.
“Why, Jacob?” I asked bluntly. It wasn’t the politest of questions, but I was pretty sure the fact that they’d kidnapped my aunt was enough to cancel out social niceties.
“Well,” Estelle said slowly, “Ruth didn’t want to tell anyone until after the wedding because she thought her family would cause some sort of trouble if they knew. But before she became ill, Jacob and Ruth were engaged to be married.”