In her mind, she went back over conversations with Grev, trying to recall any mention of an attic or stairs. No, nothing. It continued to anger her that she could have ignored such an obvious feature. Who was up there and why? Was Lynn awake? Lynn—friend or foe? Staunch ally and trusted friend. It simply had to be that way. For an instant, she heard a nervous laugh shatter the confusion of howling dog, pounding waves, and noisy intruders. She was almost certain that it was Lynn’s laugh.
“Lynn!” she called out, forcing her voice to be strong. There was no reply. She didn’t really expect one, but she continued to call now and then. At least the intruders would know she was awake and aware that something was going on. Perhaps they would leave soon. It was so important that she know who it was. She went back to the window to watch for any sign of activity. The barking stopped and a dog trotted past. A collie, much like the Morgans’.
It was quieter now, although they weren’t gone yet, she was certain of that. More thumping. It seemed to be below her. The wind was dying down, and she distinctly heard the exchange of good-byes and a man’s voice saying, “We’ll succeed next time for certain.”
Numbly, she absorbed the fact that they were coming again. Who? Couldn’t they just ask for what they wanted? She would have light the next time, she promised herself. Maybe, just maybe, Grev would be here before they returned.
She slipped back into bed. She heard the distinctive sighing sound of the bedsprings in Lynn’s bedroom. Had she merely turned over or was she just going to bed? Kate methodically repeated to herself, “A symptom of paranoia is when the patient begins to mistrust and be suspicious of friends and loved ones.”
She sensed that the action for the night was over and stretched the tension from her muscles, but it wouldn’t leave her mind. Trust. Trust was the key. Life. The good things in life all functioned on trust. Someone was threatening her, threatening her right to be here on this island, in this house. She felt a strong surge of possessiveness about the house, despite all the negative happenings. Garrett Island seemed to be part of her future. To calm herself she let her mind wander over the grounds and began to visualize what the gardens would look like when they were maintained. She saw birds splashing in the birdbath, the air fragrant with flowers. All trace of menace and jeopardy would be gone. It could truly be a haven, and she wanted it to be hers. She stroked Casey dreamily. “You wouldn’t catch birds, would you? Why should you with all of those goodies from the sea to eat?” His eyes seemed to meet hers in understanding.
She straightened out the bedcovers, plumped the pillows, and spread out an extra quilt. Then she slipped under the covers and composed herself for sleep once more. The curtains were swaying gently. Soft gray clouds faintly illuminated by the moon were scuttling through the night. The tall evergreens had stopped their swaying and groaning. They stood stately and tall, sentries guarding the estate. From far distant waters came the plaintive wild goose cry of an ocean vessel.
Chapter 10
She felt she hadn’t slept at all when Lynn woke her in the morning. Tired and tense, she was in no mood to tolerate Lynn’s lies.
“I’m simply too exhausted to get up, Lynn. Would you mind an awful lot if I asked you to walk to the ferry alone?”
Lynn frowned as Kate persisted. “I’m sorry, Lynn, but last night was just too much for me.”
“No, I really don’t mind—I had a good sleep. It’s just that I know you’d be in better shape if only you’d come back with me.”
Kate buried her head in the pillow to hide her exasperation.
“Just ask Grev to come on Tuesday and also ask him to confirm when Tulley’s appraiser will be here.”
“Will do. Sleep well. See you by mid-week, I hope.”
She slept for an hour or so after Lynn left before yielding to the lure of a bright and sunny Sunday. By noon she had reached the Indian settlement on the plateau.
Assorted dogs dozed in the sun, while here and there she saw the clutter of children’s toys. Some yards were neat with orderly gardens, others were hopelessly neglected. A huge stack of baled hay dominated the scene and beside that was an impressively large barn, recently re-roofed with the same type of shakes as were on her house.
She was approaching the small gray church. Suddenly the bell tolled, the doors were thrown open, and the congregation streamed out. She felt painfully conspicuous but held her ground, anxious to see the members.
Mr. Grayson seemed to be the minister. He stood by the door, shaking hands and speaking with each person. The Morgans emerged, noticing her immediately. As they spoke to Mr. Grayson, he too looked up. Kate smiled cheerily and all three nodded abruptly. As he had in the store, Fred Grayson draped a protective arm over his daughter’s shoulders. The others awkwardly avoided her.
The little man from the drugstore saw her just as he reached the bottom step. Obviously disconcerted, he quickly made his way toward the homeward path. Kate couldn’t help but chuckle at his look of alarm and fear. She was convinced now that it had been no accident that her batteries were dead. She watched him speculatively as he glanced back nervously before increasing his pace to a rapid jog.
Sonya and Samuel Moonsong were next to leave the chapel, accompanied by Casey. Sonya spoke to Samuel and they all looked at Kate. Impulsively, she walked over to them.
“I heard the bell and couldn’t resist coming to see the church. It’s a pleasure to see an unpretentious church.” She was babbling, she knew, but she didn’t want them to simply walk away from her.
“Churches are often so ornate.”
“It is lovely, isn’t it?” Sonya commented. “We were married here. It was originally built as a mission chapel for the native Indians, but now all of the island residents make use of it.”
“I slept through my friend’s departure,” said Kate. “Do you know if she caught the ferry on time, Casey?”
“Yes, I saw her leave.”
“Oh, you’re alone, then,” exclaimed Sonya warmly. “Would you like to come for lunch?”
The invitation was so unexpected that she was momentarily speechless. Things were looking brighter.
“Thank you so much. Of course I’d be delighted to come. Are you coming as well, Casey?”
“No, I have to pick up an engine on Condor Island,” he replied slowly. “But listen, you really should have a tour of the island. How about a picnic tomorrow?”
“That was a delicious beachcomber’s dinner and I so much appreciate the escorted walk.” Kate smiled as she sipped white wine from an oyster shell. “Casey, island life is improving. Yesterday I had a beautiful afternoon with the Moonsongs. I think if the underlying problem about my being here could be cleared up, Sonya and I have the potential to be great friends.”
“The desire that you leave still stands, Kate. Don’t make any plans to settle in where you’re not wanted.”
“Oh, Casey, stop it. Why, yesterday, after leaving the Moonsongs and arriving home, I even had lights. The lamps had been drained before but while I was gone they’d been refilled. I felt so much better that I finally had a good night’s sleep.”
“Haven’t you been sleeping well?” His gaze was penetrating.
“Perhaps I miss the noises of the city,” she said flippantly. When he shook his head disbelievingly, she continued in a more honest vein. “Things go bump in the night. And I hear people talking. The strange thing is they haven’t hurt me; they just carry on as though I’m not there. Also”—she paused for breath, glancing at Casey’s grim face and realizing that the whole story seemed improbable—”also, well, they seem to be looking for something and I think they go to the attic. I haven’t seen any stairs to the attic. Where are they?”
“I have no idea,” he said levelly. “Do you think there is an attic?”
“Of course,” Kate said impatiently. “Think of that roof!”
“I suppose it’s possible but I doubt it. Tell me, do you have a history of nightmares or hallucinations?”
Turbulent fru
stration welled up, flinging color across her cheeks. She glared at him angrily, long enough to see veiled insolence—laughter?—in his eyes before she jumped from the log and rushed down the beach. “I should have known better than to confide in him,” she fumed as hot tears blinded her. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow Grev would be here. He would understand. He would explain. Tomorrow he would be here. She rushed blindly, wishing desperately to be home. Home. Home was the house at the crest of the hill, with the fires crackling warmly and the cat curled by her feet. I’ll change that cat’s name, she thought with a vengeance as her ankle twisted on a tangle of driftwood and she felt herself falling, falling slow-motion into oblivion.
“I’ll change that cat’s name,” she vowed firmly. Startled by her own voice, she opened her eyes, trying to focus on blurry shapes that wouldn’t be still. Tiredly, she closed them again, endeavoring to still a rising panic. Where was she? What had happened? “I’ll change that cat’s name,” she repeated irrationally and wondered why. She heard a gentle chuckle.
“Okay, Katie, you can change that cat’s name but for now, just be still.”
She complied, lying motionless and strangely limp. It was Casey’s voice. That was it. She tentatively looked about her, this time with more success. She saw Casey’s face looming above her as gentle hands reached down to press cool, antiseptic-scented cloth on her forehead. It felt wonderful. She tried to smile in appreciation but her face felt tight and stiff, as though it would crack. She must be sick then. Things began to focus as she realized that she was in Casey’s home.
“That was quite a fall,” he said solicitously.
Fall. Of course, she had fallen. She had been running. Running from Casey. She had tripped. And now Casey was caring for her. She said weakly, “Don’t tell me you had to carry me home?”
“I’m afraid so. I couldn’t very well leave you there with your face in the water,” he said lightly. “How do you feel? I think you grazed your head on the rocks and gulped down a bit of sea water.”
“Did I really? I only remember catching my foot on some driftwood and pitching forward. That’s the last I recall. Except for feeling stiff and confused, I think I’m all right.”
“That’s to be expected. |You probably suffered a slight concussion as well is numerous contusions. Here, I want to give you something for the pain.” He passed her a capsule and a glass of water and supported her while she obediently swallowed it. Then he lowered her gently to the pillow. “I’ll give that a few moments to take effect before I pick the sand and seaweed out of your hands and knees.”
She stared blankly at her hand. It was bloodied and peppered with grit. “This can’t be my hand. It doesn’t hurt a bit. Therefore, it must be your hand.” She giggled foolishly.
“You’re experiencing a small degree of shock,” she heard him reassure her as she drifted into a dark limbo.
The room was much warmer when she awoke later to see a dusky sky from the window. She sat up abruptly. “Ow!” she yelped, shaking her hand. “That smarts.”
“Except for your hands, how are you feeling now?” Casey asked from his chair by the stove.
“I must be better. I know definitely that these tender appendages are really mine.” She examined her hands ruefully. “I must say that you’ve done an admirable job.”
“Thank you. I’ll be sending my bill shortly.”
She saw her clothes hanging on the line over the stove. She was wearing a soft plaid shirt.
“Your clothes are dry,” he said. “I’ll step outside if you’d like to get dressed.”
She nodded her thanks. When he was gone, she gingerly got to her feet, grimacing with discomfort as she bent her knees. She laughed aloud when she saw how ludicrous she looked with her neatly bandaged knees poking out below the long shirt. She tottered to the window. Casey was standing on the road by himself. Just as she was about to turn away, the Grayson family came into view, followed by the old man from the drugstore, the Moonsongs, and several other residents whom she had seen on Sunday. They clustered around Casey as he pointed back to his place and then indicated the location up the beach where she had fallen. They must be talking about her, she reasoned. Well, that was likely enough, and why not? After all, it was a small community. But where had they all been? Surely the Graysons and druggist would have been at their stores on a normal day. She watched intently as they slowly filed into the Grayson store, Casey with them. Puzzled, she returned to the task of dressing, which exhausted her completely. She rested a bit in the chair recently vacated by Casey before making her way to a mirror hanging over the kitchen sink. She peered at it tentatively but was nonetheless shocked by her appearance. Strands of hair, matted with blood, straggled around her pale face. Her eyes, heavy and burning, stared back at her as she examined a profusion of scratches on her cheeks. Nothing serious or long-lasting, she decided with relief, but she was appalled just the same at her appearance.
Feeling chilled and weak, she stoked the cook stove with a few sticks of wood before easing herself back onto the bed and drawing the covers up to her chin.
“I’ll start for home just as soon as I get warm,” she resolved wearily.
Chapter 11
Casey was standing over her again, hand resting on her brow and shaking his head dubiously. “No, Katie my girl, you are definitely not going anywhere tonight. You’re still showing some residual symptoms of shock.”
“Oh, but I have to go back,” she protested. “The house will get so chilly and damp again.”
“Don’t fret about it. The fires have been kept going all day, so overnight won’t do any damage.”
“All day? I wasn’t home all day!”
“That’s right, isn’t it? Well, anyway, don’t worry about the house. It will be fine.”
She allowed her head to fall back on the pillow, half grateful that she wouldn’t have to make the trek home just yet. Recognition of what had transpired dawned slowly. Once again, she had been gullible enough to be conveniently absent, leaving the house available for any interested parties. Her anger mounted as the full implication became apparent. Casey’s duplicity in this matter, whatever his motive, laid to rest any lingering delusions about her feelings for him. She could more easily love a transparent liar.
“Do you know, Casey, I once thought that I could like you a great deal, but I was wrong. Your singlemindedness and ability to keep up a defense is too frightening. You can be so cold.”
He didn’t dispute it. “You’re right, Kate. You and I are attracted to each other, but we’re basically antagonistic. And you’re right, I can be cold. As a matter of fact, it was when I realized that aspect of my personality was developing that I decided to come to the island. I came to find out why I protect myself from certain emotions. I thought I was all sorted out until you came and brought out the beast in me.”
“Don’t be proud of it,” she snapped.” How could I have been so stupid?” she raged. “You used me. I know you did. You kept me out of the way for the day while everyone else who was interested went to the house to—well, I don’t know what they were doing—but they’re trying to do something at the house.”
She glowered at him furiously while he rocked silently on his heels, arms folded. “You used me,” she repeated. “I thought you were being friendly while all the time you were just laughing at my gullibility.”
“Hey, now, I protest that statement. I was being friendly. In fact, I’d be delighted if we could really be friends. It’s merely a minor detail that I was also keeping you from the house while cultivating your friendship.”
“Yes,” said Kate cynically, “just a minor detail. Tell me please, dear friend, just what does everyone want at the house? Are they trying to drive me away or drive me out of my mind?”
“Katie, be calm. Just leave the island before you come to any harm. At any other time or place they would love you—we all would, but not here, not now. Just leave before it’s too late for you and too late for us all,” he pleaded with grim in
tensity.
“I will not leave. I’m sorry, but I’ll not leave until my job here is completed, and even then I cannot guarantee that I’ll be gone forever. I love that house in its beautiful setting and despite you crazy islanders, this is a marvelous island. I only wish I could count on one of you to explain just what the big panic is about my presence.”
Casey looked frustrated and torn as he confronted the stubborn, enraged girl. “Listen. If you will leave, leaving the estate untouched, the islanders will pay you rent for it. Then, if you promise not to pay taxes on it, the islanders will purchase it jointly when it is sold for back taxes.”
Kate raised her eyebrows incredulously while Casey continued. “We simply don’t have the money to acquire it any other way. If you agreed to do that, then and only then could I tell you the whole story.”
She shook her head tiredly. “You know the whole scheme is impossible. It’s absurd. We can’t simply hand over a valuable estate merely because you say so.”
“If you don’t do that and don’t leave immediately, I’m afraid you are going to be in serious danger and I doubt if there would be any way I could protect you.”
“Then I’ll just have to take my chances, won’t I?” she said, falling back to ponder the situation, her face to the wall. Surely Grev would know how to handle everything. After a long, tense interval, she was able to speak calmly.
“Have you had supper? I’m starved.”
“Well, that’s a good sign,” said Casey, apparently as anxious as Kate to change the topic. “How about a feed of my famous baked beans? I make a gigantic batch about once a week and then have them handy to warm up whenever hunger strikes.”
“Sounds delicious. I know I’m taxing your hospitality but you’re right, I simply couldn’t make it home tonight. Then, too, I’d only have to walk all the way back down in the morning.”
The Secret of Bourke's Mansion Page 7