by G M Mckay
It wasn’t locked and I lifted the lid with shaking fingers, pulling out the scroll with a sense of unreality. All this drama for a silly piece of paper. The thick parchment was brand new and unrolled easily when I untied the bright red ribbon. I read it, committing the brief contents to memory just in case I needed to tell the police later what was in it.
The front barn door creaked suddenly in the wind, and I clutched the will tightly to my chest protectively.
I paused in the aisle, not sure what to do next. I had the will; did I go up to the house and try to reason with a killer, a madman, hoping he was rational enough to spare everyone’s lives if I gave him what he wanted? Or did I escape now and find a way to call the police and hope that they could get here in time to save Gil and everyone else?
It was an awful choice and I stood frozen, my heart pounding, unable to make a decision either way.
It was finally Bally who decided for me. He nickered loudly and stuck his head over his stall door, grasping the latch in his teeth just like he did when he let himself out at Greystone. He carefully worked the latch until it popped free and the door slid gently open.
All right, we’ll ride for help then, I thought, there were more farms up the road; we passed them on the way. I’ll ride to one of those and use the phone to call the police.
“Good boy, Bally,” I whispered, pulling his halter off the stall door and slipping it over his head. I fastened the tail-end of the lead rope to his halter to make a set of rough reins and led him quietly out into the moonlight.
I’ll have to climb the fence to get on him, I thought, hugging the shadowy side of the barn as we headed in the direction of the driveway. I wished that his silvery coat didn’t glow quite so brightly in the moonlight; he looked like he was lit up from within.
“Going somewhere, Jillian?” a cold voice said behind me.
I froze, caught like a rabbit in headlights and then slowly turned around.
“Alastair?” I said, confused. But my relief on seeing that it was Xan’s brother, my creepy cousin, and not the even creepier Dr. Crane was short-lived.
“Hello, Jilly,” Alastair said, tilting his head a little to one side, a smile playing over his lips. “I bet you’re surprised to see me.”
“What … what are you doing here?”
“Oh, just tying up some loose ends. I believe you have something that I want. Please hand it over.”
I stared at him, and then it slowly dawned on me. “You … you want the will? But why? I thought Dr. Crane—”
“That old quack is safe in bed, Jillian. And I want the will to destroy it, of course.”
“But … but why?” I asked, completely bewildered by this turn of events.
“You’re certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?” Alastair said, laughing under his breath. “I’d almost hoped someone would have figured it out by now. You have no idea how lonely it is always being the cleverest man in the room, Jilly. It’s not easy being brilliant.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on at all,” I said, edging Bally a few steps away from him toward the shadow of the barn. “Ruth’s will doesn’t even list you as a beneficiary. Why would you want it?”
“No, of course that will doesn’t, my poor, innocent, dim-witted cousin; that’s why it needs to be destroyed. You just hand it over and we’ll burn it like we did the others. Ruth thought she could escape me by writing all those wills, but I was too smart for her. I found the one I wanted and then destroyed the rest one by one. Nobody outwits me.”
“But, how did you know she was writing them?”
“I am a very special man, Jilly, I don’t think there’s another like me in the whole world. I can be anywhere I want if I think about it hard enough, or at least a part of me can. Enough so that I can watch and listen and learn people’s secrets. I can even influence them to do what I want when the conditions are right.”
Watching his maniacal expression I wondered if I’d somehow fallen into a dream, a nightmare. “Belinda said Great Aunt Ruth thought someone was watching her. Was that you all that time?”
“Of course. She’s a little more perceptive than the average person. She could feel me watching. She resisted my suggestions and I`m afraid I needed to use a little more force than necessary to get her to write exactly the will I needed.”
“But why would Ruth leave the estate to you? Everyone is going to suspect the truth if you’re her beneficiary. She made it no secret that she—”
“Hated me? No, she was quite vocal about that. No, my simple, simple little cousin, the will lists Xan as the sole heir, not me. I’m not an idiot.”
“Xan,” I whispered, feeling the crushing weight of disappointment. Had he been in on it all that time?
“Aw, cheer up. My simpleton of a brother doesn’t know anything about it. I just needed him to inherit for a month or so. And then he’ll have a tragic accident on that unpredictable horse of his and it will all be mine. Now, set that will down there nice and easy on the ground, and then you and I will go for a little walk.”
He pulled a gun out and leveled it at me and I froze, holding my breath and eyeing it with mounting terror.
Suddenly, there was a warm breath on my arm and I glanced sideways to see that Bally had crept up behind me and was standing right at my back.
Chapter 19
“Why are you doing this, Alastair?” I said tearfully, turning to stare transfixed at the barrel of the gun. I pressed backward into Bally’s solid warmth, letting him infuse me with strength. There had to be a way out of this somehow.
“Why shouldn’t I get what’s mine?” Alastair demanded. “I deserve more than anyone to have this estate and all the wealth that goes with it. When my feeble-minded parents lost everything, I knew that it would be up to me to make my own fortune.”
“But you have your own estate—”
“Ha, that crumbling old ruin. No, we’re in debt up to our eyeballs, Jillian. We’re about to be out on the street, penniless and abandoned by every relative we have, no doubt. I couldn’t let that happen to Sally and me, not after all we’ve sacrificed to get ahead.”
“What … what do you mean?”
“Everyone shrinks away from the children of a failing, penniless man, Jillian. When our parents were poor but still alive, we were like pariahs, bathed in the stink of some contagious disease. But an orphan is a different story altogether. Being parentless gave us the opportunities we needed; it had to be done.”
“What had to be done? You mean … your parents?”
“I am not without remorse, Jillian. I’ll admit that my mother had her good points. But unfortunately, she had to go, too. She knew too much. I don’t think they suffered.”
“Oh, Alastair,” I said, thinking of how kind his parents had always been to me, “that is awful.”
“No,” he said coldly, leveling the gun at my heart, “what is awful are parents who willfully squander your rightful inheritance. No bad deed goes unpunished. So now, dear cousin, I’m afraid your time is up. You should have drunken your damn tea and sat in the library like a good little girl. Instead you had to ruin everything once again. We just needed was a few more nights and Ruth would have been worn down enough to tell us where the will was. But you had to stick your nose in and involve the doctor. We couldn`t have that Jilly. I’m sure you understand. Now, you’re going to have a little accident as well.”
“Oh, please, Alastair, don`t do this. Lots of people know where I am. You won’t get away with killing me.”
“Oh, I think I will. When the others wake up, they won’t remember a thing. You’ll just be missing and later they’ll find your body at the bottom of that canyon. They’ll just assume you fell off it because you’re an idiot who couldn’t keep from nosing around where she doesn’t belong.”
“Aimee,” I said suddenly, stalling for time. I backed Bally another step toward the shadows. “She helped you, didn’t she? She must have known about this all along.”
&nbs
p; “Well, of course she did. She’s my best girl. She’s a perfect genius with potions and she’s pretty good with fire as well. She’s a keeper, that one.”
“But she loved Ruth. How did you get her to betray her?”
“Money,” Alastair said with a shrug. “Jealousy. Aren’t those the keys to everyone’s allegiance? Once you tell someone that they deserve more than life’s given them, they come around pretty quickly. She was putty in my hands.”
“The police will figure it out, Alastair,” I said, grasping at straws. “Everything will lead back to you when you inherit the estate.”
“Nobody even knows I’m here, Jillian. I’m hundreds of miles away, tucked safe at home in my warm bed. I will be woken up tomorrow by Xan informing me of Ruth’s tragic demise and that our poor, stupid cousin is missing. Aimee will arrange to have the will found, of course, and then everything will fall into place.”
Whatever hope was still beating frantically away inside me faded away and I stood there, cold and shivering, certain I was about to die at any second.
“Right, well, as pleasant as this has been, it’s time for you to say goodbye, Jillian. Start walking.”
Bally pricked his ears at the slight crackling of branches in the shadows behind Alastair. I saw Aimee walking slowly toward us, frowning at the gun in Alastair’s hand. Alastair jerked his head up and smiled a slow, sultry smile when he saw her.
I had a moment of inspiration. “Do you know what this last will says?” I asked loudly.
“No.” Alastair shrugged. “And I don’t care. I’m just going to burn it.”
“Well, maybe Aimee cares. Ruth left the entire estate to her.”
There was a moment of tense silence.
“To me?” Aimee asked in surprise. “Why?”
“Didn’t you know, Aimee? You’re her granddaughter.”
“No,” Aimee gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. “No, I’m absolutely not. My parents died in a fire, I know my grandparents.”
“Those people adopted you when you were a baby, Aimee. It says right here in the will. Ruth and Jacob had a child out of wedlock when they were just teenagers; your mother. Ruth’s parents forced her to give up the baby and banished her from seeing Jacob but she always regretted it. Many years later she tracked down her own daughter, but the woman was angry and bitter and didn’t want anything to do with her. Shortly after, she became pregnant with her own child but wasn’t in a position to keep her. She didn’t want Ruth’s help, but Ruth secretly used her influence to make sure the baby was placed with kind, very distant relatives. She knew who you were, Aimee. She was just waiting for the right time to tell you. Look, it’s all here in the will.”
I reached up and slowly pulled the document from where I’d shoved it in my sleeve; holding it out to her.
“Don’t listen to that drivel, Aimee, she’s lying.”
“I’m not, and if Alastair is as good at lurking around corners and eavesdropping as he says then he would have known the truth, too.”
Aimee looked stricken, her gaze wavering uncertainly between me, the will, and Alastair.
“Go on, read it,” I said boldly, “and then ask yourself why your boyfriend didn’t tell you and also why he didn’t just let you inherit and then marry you, since he supposedly loves you so much.”
“That’s enough out of you,” Alastair snarled, marching toward me. Still waving the gun in my face, he snatched the will out my hand and crumpled it into a ball.
“Don’t!” Aimee cried out. “I want to read it first. I deserve to read it if it’s mine.”
“You deserve nothing,” Alastair spat, “you’re worthless without me.”
“I’m not,” Aimee protested, but her eyes welled with tears and she dropped her gaze to the ground.
“She isn’t,” I said hotly, “and this is a much better plan. Aimee, when you inherit you can just share the money with Alastair. After all, that’s what he was planning to do with you, right? You were going to split the money?”
“I … I think so,” Aimee said miserably, looking anxiously toward Alastair. “If I did everything he said. And I did do everything right, darling, or almost everything. Now that it’s almost over, we can be together forever like we planned.”
“You would have messed it up completely if it wasn’t for me,” Alastair sneered. “You were supposed to use your potions to put Ruth in a hypnotized state so she’d tell you were all the bloody, hidden wills were, not knock her out for months. You’re the one that’s killed her, Aimee, your own grandmother, too. No, it’s best if I inherit and take care of the money since I’m smart enough to handle it. You’ll get a small share, of course; you’ve been a loyal servant.”
“Servant?” Aimee said, moving toward him. “But, Alastair, I love—”
“None of that,” he snapped. “Never mind, you’re right, this is better. I’ll take care of two birds with one stone and finish this properly. Then Sally and I can have it all for ourselves and live in the manner we deserve.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, stricken.
“Dividing things up is such a bore. I guess you’ll just all have to disappear. Oh well.”
Alistair brought the gun up and pointed directly at Aimee’s head, no trace of remorse in his cold eyes.
An incredulous look passed over Aimee’s face and suddenly, she wasn’t scared anymore. She looked angry. Deadly angry.
She clenched both hands together and glared at Alastair. Abruptly, the air around her seem to flicker and glow with an otherworldly light.
Alastair’s eyes widened and he took a couple of uncertain steps backward. “Aimee,” he said uncertainly. “Stop that. What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer but the look on her face grew even more murderous.
Suddenly, Alastair gave a sharp cry of pain and nearly dropped the gun, moving it from hand to hand as if it had turned burning hot.
“What are you doing?” he cried. “Stop that.”
He leveled the gun in her direction and squeezed the trigger hard, four times in a row. The sound was awful, a series of low cracks that echoed off the barn. Aimee fell like a tree in the forest, slowly rocking back on her heels with a look of startled wonder on her face before she crashed against the ground. She let out an anguished cry, shuddered once, and then went quite still.
“No,” I cried. “Aimee, no!”
I started to move forward but Alastair leveled the gun in my direction, his face twisted with rage.
“I wanted this to be neat and tidy, Jillian, but you had to poke your nose in and ruin things for everyone. Thanks to you, I have two bodies to dispose of. You couldn’t have just walked nicely to the edge of the precipice yourself like you were supposed to, could you? Do you realize what a selfish, spoiled brat you are? You never think of anyone but yourself.”
He’s completely crazy, I thought, as if this was a new insight given the events of the evening. But looking at his manic expression, I realized that Alastair really believed everything he was saying.
“Well, if you won’t walk then I guess I’ll just have to finish you off here,” he snarled.
Three things happened almost all at once. There was a strange crackling, popping noise from the place where Aimee had fallen. For a moment, I could see her lying there just as she had been and in the next breath, she had disappeared completely, vanished in the night. Alastair jerked the gun up and let out a surprised cry.
That was my opportunity but before I could turn and push Bally away to safety, Alastair wheeled on me again and jammed his finger against the trigger. There was a blazing, burning, shattering feeling in my arm and I staggered backward, falling against Bally’s trembling side.
Oh, that’s funny … the sound comes later, I thought fuzzily as the crackle and bang of the gun sounded a full second after the pain. Then Bally was leaping forward, knocking me roughly to the ground and there were more bangs and someone was screaming in a high wail that seemed to echo from inside my head.
There was utter blackness, and then when my eyes opened again, the sound of sirens cut through the dark night, still far away but heading steadily in my direction.
I sat up with a groan, clutching my ruined arm to my chest. Every breath was agony, but that was nothing compared to what I felt when I caught sight of Alastair and Bally.
Oh, Bally, I choked back a sob and crawled over to where he lay, his body almost obliterating the smaller form of Alastair below. Oh no, this can’t be happening.
They both lay there, unmoving; Alastair with his blue eyes staring sightlessly up at the stars and Bally with his eyes gently closed, as if he were peacefully sleeping. But he wasn’t sleeping; the bullet hole in his great, wonderful heart were all the answer I needed. He was unbelievably gone. Just like that.
Oh Bally, you can’t leave me alone. I can’t face a world without you. And then I began to cry.
I couldn’t have sat there for long but it felt like an eternity. I struggled to my feet as the sirens came closer, not wanting to see anyone right then, not wanting to see them take Bally away or stand around staring at his lifeless body. I limped toward the safety of the forest and kept going until the lights and sounds faded far behind and the blessed silence of the woods closed in on me.
Finally, I stumbled on the roots of an enormous tree and when I fell, I just lay there, curling myself tightly into a ball with my head resting on a gnarled outcropping. The moon came out from behind another cloud and rose high above me, looking larger and much more important than usual. There was a rustling sound next to my ear and then a gentle puff of warm air caressed my cheek.
“Bally?” I said incredulously, pushing myself upright to stare with disbelieving eyes. Maybe I was dreaming or hallucinating from blood loss because there he was, shining splendidly in the moonlight without a mark on him. There were no bullet holes riddling his body, and he’d lost his halter and lead rope somewhere.