“Don’t go yet,” Christy said quickly. “You spoke about a place where Rose used to put her work, so Oliver wouldn’t find it. Can you tell us where that was?”
Eve hesitated. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if you know now. There’s an attic, with old trunks and boxes and stuff. Oliver had a dust allergy, so he never went up there. But that’s where Rose kept her work when she knew he’d be around. Then there wouldn’t be any put-downs.”
“Show us, Eve,” Hayden said. “Come up there with us.”
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home.”
She walked out of the room abruptly, and they heard her slam the front door.
“Let’s have a look at the attic,” Hayden said. “There’s nowhere else to search. How do we get up there, Victor?”
Victor showed them where stairs led up from the second-floor hallway. He had brought a flashlight, and he went up first, while Hayden and Christy climbed the steep flight behind him. The door at the top was locked and there was no key. Experimentally, Victor reached along the ledge overhead and found it. The key turned silently in the lock, and Victor went ahead to switch on an overhead bulb that dangled from the raftered ceiling.
Shadows came to life in the big, unfurnished space, and a wave of stale air greeted them. Up here, rain sounded noisily on the roof.
Trunks, boxes, pieces of old furniture, and discarded household items, were piled everywhere. A clearing had been made for a table that held a covered typewriter, some notebooks and pads, and a jar of pencils. No work in progress was in sight. Christy felt a new disliking for Oliver because of the way he’d treated his wife’s very real gift.
“She used to carry her portable typewriter downstairs so she could work in the kitchen when Oliver was out of the house,” Victor said. “It wasn’t that he minded what she was doing, though maybe he was a little jealous of her success—he just poked fun at whatever she wrote, and that could damage her confidence, in spite of her talent.”
At the far end of the attic several trunks had been piled up, forming a wall that hid from view what lay behind it. On top of one trunk stood a table lamp, an electric heater, and a fan. Christy went quickly around the trunks and stood looking at what lay beyond. A futon had been placed on the floor, with a pillow and blankets, offering a sleeping place. Against the wall stood a cracked mirror, and a wire had been strung to hold hangers with a few articles of clothing.
“These aren’t Deirdre’s things,” Hayden said.
“They wouldn’t be, Hay,” Victor reminded him. “When Deirdre left, she didn’t take much with her, did she? Except maybe this?”
He had found a rolled-up bundle on a dusty table and he shook out a long white caftan. Whoever had masqueraded in the woods must have worn this gown. It was the same garment that had lured Christy down from the rear deck at Nona’s house. She couldn’t remember now where she’d left it after they went to the place where Rose had died. She hadn’t wanted to ever touch it again, and she didn’t touch it now.
Their light-fingered, malicious spirit had clearly brought the gown here, and now the question rose once more as to whether it had been Deirdre in the woods, or Deirdre hiding in this house. Someone had certainly been camping out here, and if not Deirdre, then who? But of course it must have been Deirdre!
They were inside Oliver’s house tonight. I could see them through the kitchen windows, though I didn’t dare watch for long. There was no way to keep them from going to the attic, where I’ve hidden since Oliver died. After Rose was gone, of course, I lived downstairs with him for a time.
It was a good thing I persuaded Oliver to burn those pages of the book he’d started. He told me what he was writing about—obsession. He thought he knew enough to write about it. I know a great deal more. I was obsessed by him for much too long a time. Deirdre never liked him. In her way, I suppose, she really cared about Hayden—who would have been my enemy if he’d known about me. I’ve always pretended in order to keep what the spy stories call my “cover.” Deirdre will never dare to betray me. She knows what I can do, and how much stronger I am than she is.
Oliver was such a gorgeous man. I could never stand men who were ugly. He was sensual, strongly sexual, and I wanted him as I’d never wanted any other man. That was obsession. But in the end he proved to be weak and ineffectual. Would he have done to Rose what I did? No—he’d never have had that sort of passion. In his mind, where he thought he was so securely intellectual—he was nothing—an empty shell. He would have betrayed me in the end, out of basic weakness. Just the same, I only meant to frighten him.
He had his uses for a time and was some protection for me, but that came to an end as I began to know him. I suppose he was obsessed with me in his way, since he couldn’t get me out of his life. And since he couldn’t escape, it would have been much better for all of us if he’d killed himself.
It seemed such fun at first—playing Deirdre’s spirit self in the woods; leaving Rose’s slippers around for Victor to find, and planting the needlepoint in the llama pen. But I’m bored with those childish tricks, and I must get away—find a place where I can live safely. I can’t take Deirdre with me. My little sister has become too great a burden. I’ve kept our secret well over the years—since she never wanted to acknowledge me. But now time has run out, and it must be done, once and for all, though I’m still not sure exactly how.
Perhaps Deirdre and Christy at the same time? If I can coax them out together. Christy won’t be suspicious, but Deirdre will know what I intend. I wonder if Donny can be used to help me? From a distance he still thinks I’m Deirdre. That beastly cat knows better!
15
When they left Oliver’s house, Hayden seemed lost in some inner maze of his own. The shock of learning that Deirdre must really be alive, and that she’d been hiding from him—living with Oliver—perhaps had even been the cause of Oliver’s death—was more than he could understand or endure. There was nothing anyone could say, no comfort to be offered. He was alone with a terrible enigma he still had no means of solving. There would be no use combing the woods for Deirdre in the rain—she could have gone anywhere, concealed herself in a hundred places in or out of Redlands. There were even caves in the mountains, and she was an outdoor creature.
Victor took charge quietly. “Come down to my place for a drink, Hay. You can stay the night, if you want, and tomorrow you can decide what’s possible. She may come back to Oliver’s during the night, and we can find her in the morning.”
“Thanks, Victor. First, I’ll drive Christy back to Nona’s, and then take you up on staying here. Donny will be okay with Leonie. I ought to stick close to where she’s likely to appear. If I could just talk with her . . .”
When they left, Victor stood in his lighted doorway, watching them drive away. He must carry his own guilt, Christy thought, for not bringing his suspicions into the open. If he’d acted, Oliver might still be alive. But perhaps it hadn’t been possible for him to behave in any other way. There were those who believed that everyone was bonded into a pattern accepted at birth. But where did that leave free choice?
“We can make choices.” Hayden’s words seemed to read her thoughts—but she didn’t think he was talking about Victor.
“I know,” she said. “Lili believes there’s a master plan, but that every move within it isn’t ordained. It’s up to us to decide what to do. Lili knows how to manage that with the greatest assurance. I seem to wind up in a state of confusion.”
Unexpectedly, he reached out to touch her arm. “You do all right. Better than I’ve done.”
He drove the rest of the way to Nona’s in bleak silence, and she didn’t speak again until she got out of the Jeep. “I’m sorry—about everything,” she told him, knowing how inadequate words could be. He only nodded and drove away.
No one could help him now. No sympathy could reach him, much as she longed to offer it. Sh
e went into the house feeling almost as dazed as Hayden looked.
Lights were on in Nona’s kitchen when she went along the deck, and through the bay windows she could see Nona and Lili at the table with cups before them. Lili’s drink would be herbal tea, but Nona seemed to be drinking black coffee. When Christy went through the door, prepared to resist the questioning that was sure to greet her, Nona put a finger to her lips.
“Ssh—it’s Josef.”
Christy sat down quietly and watched her mother. Lili’s eyes were closed and she breathed deeply, swaying a little. This was the time to ask Josef a few questions herself, Christy thought, waiting for his voice.
After a moment or two he spoke. “Good evening to my friends.”
Only Nona said, “Good evening,” on cue. Then she spoke directly to Josef. “You wanted to talk with us.”
“To Christy,” Josef said. “She is here now. She must listen carefully. There is something to be done at once.”
“I will listen,” Christy said.
Josef went on. “You must go to the house of the spirit woman. Go by car. Go quickly.”
“You mean Deirdre’s house? What must I do there, Josef?”
“You will know. Take your aunt and your mother with you. Lili will help you. Good night to you for now.”
Not at all satisfactory, Christy thought, but she’d better do as Josef said.
Lili shook herself and returned to the real world. “Let’s go,” she told them briskly.
They took the station wagon, driving the short distance, as Josef had directed. Lights burned in several rooms of Hayden’s house.
Leonie met them at the door, looking frightened and uncertain. “Please go upstairs right away. Donny is asleep in his room—don’t wake him up.”
Christy ran up the stairs ahead of the others. She had no doubt at all where she must go. Deirdre’s door was closed. Christy opened it without a warning knock, and stood with Nona and Lili behind her, looking into the room.
Several lamps had been lighted and the woman sat in her favorite chair. She had taken one of her own filmy gowns from the closet and put it on over jeans that showed at her ankles. The crystal Christy had returned to Donny rested in her cupped hands. She sat watching them quietly, almost as though she had expected them to come.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” Deirdre said. Tearstains had dried on her cheeks, and she looked forlorn and helpless.
This was Hayden’s wife, and for a moment an intense unhappiness filled Christy—until pity for Deirdre surfaced. Pity for the sadness and fear that possessed this wraith of a woman who sat before them.
Lili knew what to do. She went quickly to drop to her knees before Deirdre, taking her hands in hers, crystal and all.
“You are safe now. Nothing can hurt you. If there is anything you’d like to tell us—any way we can help you—we will listen.”
Lili carried the power of healing in her hands, and Deirdre seemed to relax a little at her touch. When Lili put an arm around her, she leaned into it.
How lovely she was, Christy thought—in an ethereal sort of way—as delicate in her appearance as she’d been described, and as Nona had painted her. Her violet eyes, still brimming with tears, were fixed on Lili’s face as though she might draw sustenance from someone so strong and confident.
Yet in the end, while Lili was still murmuring words of reassurance, Deirdre gently withdrew her hands, set the crystal aside, and stood up. Sinh, who had crouched unnoticed on a bookcase, startled them all by leaping onto Deirdre’s shoulder and practically circling herself around Deirdre’s slender neck. Deirdre reached up to caress her, and the cat purred and rubbed her head against Deirdre’s chin.
“I’m sorry,” Deirdre whispered softly to the cat, and then released clinging claws and set her on the floor. “I must go now.”
Nona said, “Sit down, Deirdre, please. No one is going to force you to do anything, but it will be better if you talk to us, let us help you. This is Liliana Dukas, of whom you may have heard. She’s Christy’s mother, and Christy is my niece.”
“I know all that,” Deirdre said. “But I must go now. It isn’t safe for me to stay in this house. She mustn’t find me here.”
“She?” Nona repeated.
A terror close to hysteria shone in Deirdre’s eyes. “This time I got away, but she’ll find me. She always does.”
“Tell us who you mean, dear?” Lili asked, her tone calming.
Deirdre was far from calm. “No! She’d punish me. I can’t tell anyone.”
“If we know who you’re talking about, she can be stopped,” Nona told her.
But Deirdre was beyond reason. She ran toward the door, and Christy moved to block her way.
“Wait, please. Hayden’s at Victor’s now. We can phone and ask him to come home. He’d be here in minutes. And he only wants to help you, Deirdre. You must know that.”
“Not any more. Not after Oliver. So many horrible things have happened and she says it’s my fault. I have to save myself and stop her. If I can find the courage. I’ve never been brave.”
“First you must see Hayden,” Nona said firmly. “I’m going to call him now. He has a right to help you.”
“No—I don’t belong to Hayden! We lost each other a long time ago.” She moved away from Christy and raised her arms in a wide arc. “I belong to the woods and the mountains—to moonlight and rainbows. They don’t frighten me, and that’s where I must go. She can’t follow me there.”
“It’s raining hard,” Nona said. “You can’t go out in this.”
“I don’t mind the rain. I can hide better in a storm. It was foolish to come here—I always do foolish things.”
“Deirdre,” Christy pleaded, “what about your son? Donny misses you terribly. Don’t you want to see him before you go?”
She shook her head wildly. “There’s no time. It’s better for him if he doesn’t see me now.”
Lili went quickly to the closet, took out a long green raincoat and helped Deirdre into it. At least she wore heavy shoes. When Christy stepped aside, unable to stop her now, Deirdre ran toward the stairs.
“We have to let her go,” Lili said. “She must meet her own destiny. Her own karma.”
Christy had little use for destiny at the moment, and she hurried downstairs after Deirdre. She was in time to see Hayden come through the front door. He stood still when he saw Deirdre, and spoke quietly.
“I saw the lights from Victor’s, and I thought I’d better come.”
Deirdre faced him down the long room for only a moment. Then she fled toward a door to the rear deck and disappeared into dark, slanting rain.
Hayden went after her and down the back steps. They could hear him crashing around in wet brush down the hill, the sounds gradually diminishing. The three women waited under the overhang of the back deck, listening to the rain. But Deirdre had circled around to the front, where Hayden’s Jeep stood in the driveway. They heard it start, heard Hayden shout, but by the time they reached the front windows the car’s headlights were moving away at a greater speed than was safe for these roads.
“You can take my car,” Nona called to Hayden.
He came up to the house to join them. “It’s no use. Even if I could catch her, I might do more harm than good. I don’t think she’ll go outside of Redlands. There’s something holding her here. I feel that strongly. What did she say to you upstairs?”
Christy told him. “She talked about a ‘she’ who seems to have been holding her captive in some way. But she wouldn’t tell us who it was. It can’t be anyone who lives here, can it—not anyone we know?”
“The evil don’t wear labels,” Nona said. “Masks can fool anyone, and I think we’ve been fooled by someone here for a long time.”
Lili said with her usual assurance, “There is no evil. There are only misguided sou
ls whom we must pity and help.”
“While they go around murdering people?” Hayden was impatient again. “Anyway, there’s one thing I haven’t followed through on. Christy, you had a vision about someone digging in the llama pen—has anything more come to you?”
Christy shook her head. “I’m sorry—nothing.”
“Then I’m going down there now and see if I can find an answer.”
“In the dark, in the rain?” Nona protested.
He paid no attention, and Christy said quickly, “Let me come with you. Perhaps something will filter through if I go down there. We don’t have any time to lose. I have the feeling that Deirdre is desperate enough to do anything.”
Hayden found Christy an old raincoat, and Nona gave him the keys to her car. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll stay right here, or walk home if it stops raining.”
Christy glanced at her mother as she went out. For once, Lili did not look serene. No one had taken her good advice, and she had no more ready answers. Apparently, Josef too was silent.
Tension showed in Hayden’s grip on the wheel as he drove, and Christy felt increasingly fearful, though she had no focus for her fear. Like Hayden, she knew that Deirdre must be helped somehow, and that they must follow any means of rescue they could find.
The stream at the foot of the hill rushed along noisily at high speed as they crossed the bridge. In Floris’s house above, lights shone through the rainy darkness, and Floris came quickly to let them in.
No, she hadn’t seen Deirdre, she said in answer to Hayden’s question, though she didn’t seem especially surprised to learn that his wife had been roaming about in the woods.
“I was sure I sensed her around a few times,” Floris said. “Maybe she even brought the cat here. She should have been born a deer—or perhaps a llama. Though my llamas have better care then Deirdre seems to have had.”
There was criticism of Hayden implied in her words, but he paid no attention. At his urging, Christy described the flash of pictures that had come to her—of someone digging down in the llama pen. Perhaps within the last twenty-four hours.
Rainbow in the Mist Page 27