The Sound of Secrets

by Irene Brand

  Portia and Rissa exchanged glances, and Portia rubbed the back of her neck—their secret gesture that meant they were displeased with their father. He acted as though Blanchard Manor was his to command, while in fact, the property belonged to their grandfather, Howard. Because of that, Aunt Winnie had as much right to set household rules as their father. As she often had before, Rissa wondered why her father was such a domineering, cold-natured man. She thought about her youngest sister, Juliet, who had gone to work at Blanchard Fabrics, the family business. Rissa couldn’t think of anything worse than to have their father for a boss.

  Conversation ceased around the table until Ronald finished eating. Expecting a tongue-lashing, Rissa stood and said, “I’ll clear the dishes from the table rather than ask Sonya to add this work to hers.”

  “Before you do that,” Winnie said, “I’ll fill a plate and take it to the officer in the library.”

  “Let him starve,” Ronald said. “I want the police out of this house immediately. If we start feeding them, they’ll never leave.”

  Ignoring him, Winnie placed eggs, bacon and toast on a plate. “I might remind you, Ronald, of the Blanchard hospitality. As long as I live here, we’ll have no hungry people in this home.”

  She walked out of the dining room, and Portia broke the tense silence when she said, “I’ll help clear the table.”

  Under Ronald’s stony, silent gaze, the twins removed everything and put the dishes on the trolley.

  “I’ll bring the coffee and tea,” Rissa said.

  She pushed the trolley into the kitchen. The chef looked up and his mouth opened in surprise.

  “Hi, Andre,” Rissa said. “Thanks for a delicious breakfast. I’ll take the coffee things in if they’re ready.”

  He pointed to the tray beside the large range. “But I will do it, Miss Rissa.”

  She shook her head. She knew it was beneath Andre’s dignity to serve at the table, but it wasn’t beneath hers. The silver serving set was heavier than Rissa expected, and she was thankful that the chef held the door open for her.

  Portia had placed the cups before Aunt Winnie, who had returned by the time Rissa set the tray on a nearby table and placed the tea urn and the coffeepot by her aunt’s plate. By now Winnie knew her family’s individual preferences so she poured and Rissa carried the beverages around the table.

  She encountered Miranda’s shocked glance and almost laughed out loud. Had no member of the family ever waited on the table before? It felt good, very good, to serve her family.

  Ronald drained his cup of coffee quickly and pushed back from the table.

  “When you’re all finished, come into my office. I want to tell you my plans for the funeral.”

  “Funeral!” Winnie said.

  “Yes, you know—a memorial service to honor a deceased loved one,” Ronald said sarcastically, obviously angry at his sister for defying his orders to feed the policeman.

  “Under the circumstances, don’t you think it’s better to hold a private graveside service?”

  “No, I don’t. It’s traditional for the Blanchard family to bury its members in style, and I intend for this funeral to be one of the most outstanding funerals Stoneley has ever seen.”

  His back ramrod straight, he turned and left the room. Rissa was as stunned as her siblings and Aunt Winnie seemed to be. Why go through the farce of a funeral after Ronald had told his daughters their mother had died years ago?

  SIX

  Ronald stood in front of the fireplace when they entered his office. All of the office furnishings were crafted of walnut. The dark, massive furniture reflected Ronald’s personality. He motioned for them to sit down.

  “I don’t know how long it will be before Trudy’s body is released by the authorities, but I’m going to the funeral home this morning to make arrangements.”

  “Do you want us to go with you?”

  His glance toward his sister indicated he thought her question was ludicrous. “I believe I’ll be able to handle the situation without any help from you. I didn’t invite you in here to ask for advice. I simply wanted to tell you that I’m expecting all of you to be here for the funeral.”

  He looked at Winnie. “You are to notify my other daughters of their mother’s death and tell them to come home immediately.”

  He left the office and Rissa heard him going upstairs. She didn’t want to stay in his office any longer, and she got up.

  “Let’s go in the family room,” Winnie suggested.

  Rissa didn’t want to go in the room where she’d had the nightmare, and they couldn’t go into the library.

  “I’d rather go to your sitting room, if you don’t mind. It’s much more pleasant there.”

  “We should have notified the other girls before this,” Winnie said, “but I’m still in shock. Trudy and I were friends, and I grieved when she died. I was overjoyed to learn a few weeks ago that she wasn’t dead and I looked forward to renewing our friendship. And now she’s really gone!” Winnie’s eyes filled with tears.

  “I’ll call our sisters, if you aren’t up to it,” Rissa said, putting a hand on her aunt’s shoulders.

  Winnie shook her head. “No, it’s my place to do it. I have their phone numbers in my sitting room. After I have my morning devotions and I compose myself, I’ll contact them. I’ll tell them of Trudy’s death and Ronald’s ultimatum, but I doubt there’s any rush for them to get here.”

  As they were going toward the sitting room, Rissa saw Peg coming downstairs from the third floor.

  “How is Grandfather this morning?” she asked.

  “Quiet. He slept last night, but I have to go into town to pick up his medications and to run a few errands. The doctor doesn’t want him to be alone. Would you mind sitting with him until I get back?”

  “Of course not,” Rissa agreed. “It will help me get my mind off of what happened last night. I’ll come up right away. There’s no need for you to hurry. Do you have a ride?”

  “Yes. Andre is going into town. I’ll go with him.”

  When Rissa entered her grandfather’s room, Peg zipped up her coat.

  “I just gave him his medication, and I think he’ll be quiet all morning. He usually is after he takes it, but if he should get violent, ring for Sonya. You can’t manage him alone. Promise me you’ll call her?”

  “Yes, I’ll call her,” Rissa assured her. She had only seen her grandfather once when he was overly agitated, and she didn’t want to see it again. The time he had threatened Juliet at Aunt Winnie’s party had terrified her.

  Noting the blank expression in his eyes and the trembling chin, Rissa didn’t think her grandfather would cause any trouble today. Tears threatened when she remembered how vibrant he used to be when she and Portia were small.

  Choking back her tears, she waved goodbye to Peg. Rissa pulled a rocking chair close to her grandfather’s chair and took his frail hand. The veins in his hands stood out vividly on the thin skin, as if the blood might burst through at any moment. Dark bruises showed on his forearms, and she wondered if this had happened during the times when Peg had to physically subdue him.

  “I’m going to sit with you while Peg is in town, Grandfather,” she said brightly, hoping for some response. There wasn’t any.

  Still concerned about her grandfather’s spiritual condition, Rissa looked for his Bible, expecting to read to him. The Bible wasn’t in sight, but she went to a bookcase and found a copy of the New Testament. She sat beside him again and started reading the Sermon on the Mount in the book of Matthew. She had no idea if she was doing this for her grandfather or for herself. She doubted that she could bear his wide-eyed stare in silence until the caregiver returned—she needed something to do.

  The Scripture brought no response from her grandfather, but Rissa read on. When the clock chimed eleven, she realized that she had been reading for almost two hours. Peg would probably be back soon.

  Still worried about her nightmare the previous night, Rissa decided
to pretend that Howard was the same as he had been twenty years ago when he’d often protected Portia and her from punishment when they’d done something wrong. They had soon learned that if they could get to Howard and confess what they had done before their father found out, they were safe.

  “Grandfather,” she started, “I want to tell you about the nightmare I had last night. But the truth of the matter is, I’m not sure it was a nightmare…or if it really happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had such an experience, either. So maybe I’d better tell you about that first.”

  She searched her memory to determine when she’d first started to question that something was wrong with her mind. It had been about six months ago when she’d been working long hours with the production team of her off-Broadway show. It would be her big moment—a time to prove she had made it at last.

  “I’ve been having nightmares—or maybe they’re figments of my imagination, thinking I see something that really isn’t there. I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist, and she’s diagnosed my trouble as clinical depression. I’ve been taking antidepressants for several months now, but you’re the only one I’ve told about it.”

  Howard stared at her but she was sure he didn’t understand a word she’d said. For a moment she agonized over whether her grandfather actually had Alzheimer’s or if he was mentally unbalanced. After hearing that their mother had spent years in a mental institution, Rissa couldn’t help wondering if emotional instability ran through the family. Most of her siblings had experienced emotional trauma at one time or another, and it was impossible to believe that her father’s actions were rational. Anyone who would tell his daughters that their mother had been killed in an automobile accident when she’d left her children and husband behind because of her postpartum depression couldn’t be in his right mind.

  “Last night I fell asleep on the couch in the family room,” she continued. Even if her grandfather didn’t understand what she said, it helped to talk about what had happened to her. “Or at least I thought I was asleep, but I woke up when I heard a woman screaming. It was a terrible sound, a sort of wailing cry, as if someone was in danger or distress. But now I don’t know what to make of it. Did I really hear someone or was it just my imagination?”

  Rissa stopped abruptly when she heard a sound in the adjacent apartment. She looked expectantly at the door, thinking Peg had returned. When Peg didn’t enter the room right away, Rissa felt uneasy. Was someone else in that room? She hoped no one had heard her confession to her grandfather. She walked quietly to the door and listened. When she heard nothing, she tapped gently.

  “Peg?” When there wasn’t an answer, she opened the door wide enough to peer inside the nurse’s apartment, remembering as she did what had happened when she’d peeked into the library the night before. The room was empty and Rissa breathed easier. Perhaps a gust of wind had blown a tree limb against the windows. She didn’t mind that Drew knew about her nightmare, but she didn’t want anyone else to know. She closed the door and returned to the chair beside her grandfather.

  “You remember my mother, don’t you, Grandfather? Do you suppose I could be like her? I mean, do you think I might lose my mind just like she did after Juliet was born? But because it was postpartum depression, I wouldn’t necessarily have the same problem, would I? What do you think? Can’t you give me any help?”

  Howard’s expression hadn’t changed once since she’d been in the room, and hot tears pushed against Rissa’s eyelids. She got out of the chair and wandered around the room. She noticed the large number of prescription bottles on the tray on the chest of drawers. Could Howard be overmedicated? Maybe that was the reason he was so unresponsive today. Likely anyone with his violent nature might have to be restrained by medication. But she wouldn’t question Peg’s handling of her patient—she knew what she was doing. She’d been Howard’s caretaker for years.

  A half hour later when she heard Peg’s light footsteps in the adjoining apartment, Rissa could have shouted for joy. If her grandfather had been his old self, it would have been a pleasure to sit with him. But her grandfather just wasn’t here anymore.

  God, have mercy on him. I’m no judge, but it seems that he’d be better off out of his misery. But remembering her grandfather’s spiritual condition, she made one last petition. I pray that You will give him another opportunity to save his immortal soul before he leaves this world. I don’t think he’s ever asked for forgiveness for his sins in years.

  Carrying several small bags, Peg entered the room. The wind that followed the aftermath of the storm had disheveled her short, curly hair and her fair cheeks were pinkish. Rissa regarded the caregiver in a new light. How could such a pretty, middle-aged woman be content to spend hour after hour with a patient in Howard’s condition? It had to be dedication to her chosen profession.

  “How did it go? I didn’t expect to be gone so long,” Peg apologized, her sky-blue eyes smiling.

  “He hasn’t moved since you left. Is he like this very often?”

  “Most of the time,” Peg confirmed.

  “How much longer can he live this way?”

  “It’s difficult to say. I know it hurts you to see him like this, but he’s strong. In spite of his mental state, he may live this way for a long time.”

  “That’s a shame,” Rissa said. “Let me know anytime you need me to sit with him.”

  Lowering her voice, Peg said, “Any news about what happened in the library last night?”

  “We don’t know anything yet. Father is planning a funeral and he wants the whole family to be here. He told Aunt Winnie to call my sisters.”

  “Some of the time when Mr. Blanchard is in his right mind, he rants and raves about his daughter-in-law, so I hope you didn’t mention what happened last night.”

  “No, I didn’t, but the way he is today I don’t think it would have mattered.”

  “Thanks again,” Peg said as Rissa left the room.

  Because her grandfather was still mobile, Rissa suddenly had the horrible thought that he might have escaped Peg’s supervision and killed her mother. It was no secret that he hated her, but Rissa didn’t know the reason for his hatred.

  Winnie had just finished talking to Juliet in Florida when Rissa entered the sitting room.

  “Her conference doesn’t end for two more days, and I told her to stay for it. I know Ronald won’t have the funeral before that. By the way, I told the kitchen staff not to prepare a formal lunch. They’re going to put bread, lunch meat, cheese and fruit on the sideboard. I don’t suppose anyone has an appetite, but the food is there if any of us wants it.”

  “Is Delia coming home?”

  “Because of the time difference I haven’t tried to call her yet. I’ll do that later on this evening.”

  “Has Father come back?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t talked to him. He’ll make an appearance when he sees fit.”

  Rissa went into her room and stretched out on the bed hoping to sleep. She woke up two hours later feeling refreshed. Hearing hammering downstairs, she went into the bathroom and washed her face. She brushed her long black hair, dabbed on a bit of lip gloss and hurried to the first floor.

  A workman she didn’t recognize had attached a lock on the double doors into the library. Rissa’s arrival coincided with Ronald’s entrance in the front door, and when he saw the lock, he demanded, “Take that off right now.”

  Drew stepped out of the living room. “I gave the order to secure the room, and that’s the only way to do it.”

  “I’ll sue you for damages to that door, Lancaster!” Ronald shouted.

  “The department will repair any damages caused by the lock, Mr. Blanchard. But the door with the bullet hole in it will have to be replaced, now that the bullet and part of the door have been removed as evidence. I assume that you won’t want to keep it as a memento of what happened last night.”

  As he watched Ronald’s back receding down the hallway, Drew was disgusted with himself. Why did this
man irritate him? Probably because he was the number-one suspect in the murder of his wife, as far as Drew and Mick were concerned. But would they ever be able to prove it?

  He turned around and saw Rissa watching him. “Hello. I didn’t know you were standing there. I guess I was too intent on giving your father a hard time. I’ll have to apologize.”

  “I learned a long time ago that it never pays to apologize to him—it’s a sign of weakness. If he thinks you’re knuckling under to him, he’ll make your life miserable.”

  “Well, you ought to know. Thanks for the tip.”

  “Is that your luggage?” she said, pointing to a small and a large bag by the door.

  “Yes. It’s been decided that I should stay here for a few days. We’re not trying to be nuisances, but we are concerned about your safety. There have been too many crimes associated with the Blanchards in the past few months. It’s frustrating that we can’t get to the bottom of what’s going on.”

  “I, for one, appreciate your help. You helped me get through a difficult night. Except for Father, we all feel that way. Stay as long as you want to.”

  “I’ll take my things upstairs. Your aunt showed me where I could stay. I’ll sleep during the day so I can keep watch at night.”

  Drew went into the room assigned to him, and as he unpacked his few things, he mulled over in his mind the strategy session he’d had with Mick before he’d left police headquarters this morning. He was sorry he couldn’t be completely honest with Rissa about the reason he was staying at the manor. He did intend to protect Rissa and her family, but he would also be keeping his eyes and ears open to possible clues about the murder. In other words, he would be spying on the family, and he didn’t like it, although he knew it was necessary.

  Drew had been involved in other cases, and he’d only had occasional snippets of information about the Blanchard crimes. As they had considered possible suspects over their morning coffee, Mick had filled him in on what had been happening with the Blanchards. “Ronald is without doubt the most logical suspect.”