Chapter 14
Richard's dream woke him. He was positive he had heard screams. Was it the dream? He reached out a hand in the darkness, but Catharine's side of the bed was empty and cold.
"Catharine?" he called, softly at first, and then louder. He no longer heard the screams, but something sinister made his flesh crawl and he knew it had been real.
He got out of bed quickly and went to the door of Catharine's bathroom. No light came from under the door, but he tapped and called her name again. He opened the door to the empty darkness, and then shut it again at once. He stopped only long enough to turn on the bedside lamp and to pull on his dressing gown over his pajamas.
He hurried down the hall and opened Jennifer's door. She was sleeping peacefully enough, her thumb in her mouth like a baby. The light from the hall fell across her eyes and she opened them and saw her daddy standing there.
"What's the matter, Daddy?" she asked sleepily.
"Nothing, darling," he said, hoping that his voice carried a reassurance he didn't feel. "Go back to sleep, Jennifer. Everything's all right."
"Everybody's waking me up tonight," she grumbled good-naturedly as she snuggled back into her pillow. Richard closed her door.
When he turned around, he saw Lisa and Abel, with raincoats slung over their shoulders, pajamas and robes underneath.
"You heard ... something?" he asked them sharply.
They both nodded. Abel looked frightened.
"Somebody screamin', " Lisa said. "Where's Miss Catharine?"
There was something in the woman's tone that angered Richard unreasonably. Almost as if she knew what had happened ... had expected it and was now justified. Almost smug ... he snapped at her more loudly than he ever had.
"Goddamn it, don't just stand there! Go and look for her!" he shouted.
Abel turned and started down the stairs. Lisa seemed to hesitate, then she gave Richard a queer look-he shouldn't have spoken to her like thatand she followed her brother a few paces behind.
Abel went instinctively to the garage. He opened the side door, swung it mightily against the gusting wind and rain, and held it for Lisa until she had stepped inside. She stood there, huddled into her heavy wool robe, the wet slicker over her head, while Abel methodically checked the front and back seats of the Lincoln, and the trunk, and then opened both doors of the little sports car to make sure nothing was there either.
"She didn't take the car," he observed.
Lisa sighed. "No," she agreed. "Now, don't you worry about her. She's gone, that's what I say, like her mother before her. She'll be all right, that one."
"She's gone?" he repeated in disbelief.
"Now, darlin', " Lisa admonished her brother, "don't you be upset. Lisa will take care of you. We don't need her, or him either..."
"She's gone," Abel repeated again, and a single tear escaped from his eye and coursed down the deep lines of his face.
"All right, darlin', " Lisa sighed. "We'll go and look for her. We'll find her, if she's to be found. Now you come on with me, stay close to me. Come on."
"Where can we look, Lisa?" Abel said helplessly.
"We'll start in the house. Not that it'll do any good."
They went back into the kitchen, through the pantry and into the dining room.
"The light's on," Abel noted as they pushed open the swinging service door.
"Yes," Lisa murmured. "The portrait light..."
"And the window's open," Abel said excitedly. "Lisa, look at the wet stain on the curtain! Somebody left the window open in the rain. It wasn't me. I locked all the windows, like I do every night. Honest, Lisa."
"I know, I know. Of course you did." It was strange. Lisa went over to the blowing drapery, and nearly slipped in the large puddle of rainwater that had already ruined the polish on the parquet floor. She ducked behind the heavy wet velvet to shut the window. Her eye caught something shining in the grass below. As she leaned out into the rain that swept around her head in torrents, lightning shot the lawn with a second's clarity. There on the ground outside were ropes of evenly matched pearls, tossed like garbage in a heap of gold and diamonds and rubies and sapphires, rings and pendants and brooches. There was a platinum wedding ring, too.
"Holy Jesus, she's done it, all right!" she whispered aloud to herself. She stood staring at the glittering mess for a moment, until she felt Abel fumbling with the heavy drapery behind her, trying to find the opening, to see what had become of her. She shut the window and led the way back to the center hallway.
"Mr. Burgess," she called up the stairs. "You'd better come down here."
Abel was wringing his hands. "What's the matter, Lisa? Where's Miss Catharine?"
"Go into the study, Abel," Lisa directed, "and light the fire. It's all laid, isn't it?" Abel nodded. "I think Mr. Burgess is going to be wanting to do some heavy thinkin' in there. That's it, go on now."
Richard came out of the bedroom and looked down over the banister. "What is it, Lisa? Did you find her?"
Lisa looked up at him without answering. She shrugged into her raincoat and went out of the front door into the howling night. Richard ran down the stairs two at a time. He saw the door to the study open and strode in to find Abel hunched down at the fireplace.
"That's funny," Abel said, "somebody already had a fire. There's just ashes now. I could'a swore I laid it out before I went to bed, honest I did. Nice dry logs and tinder and everything. Hey, lookee here!" He pulled the charred remains of a blue folder from the cold dead heap of ashes. He held it up with two gnarled fingers for Richard to see.
It was the remains of the Stover Hills Project. The one deal that he had finally been able to manipulate on his own, without the help of his powerful father-in-law. Even though the old man had been dead for over six years now, his ghost had hovered over everything Richard touched ... yes, even Catharine. Especially Catharine. This was to be his first independent strike on his own, the thing that would make him richer and more powerful than even old Tom Johnston had ever dreamed of. All it needed was Catharine's signature. And then he was going to have it copied ... there was only the original, waiting for signature. And now it was gone. Up in smoke. Why would she do that? His balls hurt. He bent over with a sudden, sharp, excruciating pain.
"Abel, tell Lisa to call Dr. Matthews. Tell him ... oh, hell, where did Lisa go off to? Goddamn it!" He straightened up as the stab of pain lessened, and managed to walk to the hall. He opened the front door, but saw only the rain and darkness and heard only the wind and distant thunder.
"Lisa!" he shouted. There was no answer. He slammed the heavy door and turned around to see Jennifer standing on the landing above, rubbing her eyes. Her little nightie was twisted and very short to begin with. From where he stood, it was difficult not to look all the way up her slim straight legs to her little snatch.
Richard realized now that he would never be able to look at his little girl again the way he had before. He cursed himself for a monster and an animal. He turned his eyes to her tangled baby hair falling on her shoulders, to her babyish hands rubbing her lovely eyes, to her unutterably sweet innocent untouched baby-cunt where her pale soft triangle beckoned to him, her legs slightly apart...
"Go back to sleep, Jennifer!" he barked at her furiously. He turned on his heel to stride back to the study.
Tears welled in her sleepy eyes. Jennifer decided not to cry, though, and she gulped once or twice and blinked back the threatening wet. Crying was for babies, and her mother had told her just that very night that she was growing up now. She knew that grownups saved their tears for when they really needed them. She tossed back her golden hair and pattered on her bare feet to the door at the foot of the attic steps. "Mommy?" she whispered.
She waited, listening for an answer. It didn't come. She opened the little door silently and mounted the dark steps one by one.
The key was in the door, as if waiting for her to find it. A little smile flickered across her lips, not a baby smile at all. Carefully, she turned the key and pushed open the door.
Jennifer gasped in wonder to see the beautiful light from the candles that burned low in the great old candelabra. The oval mirror stood invitingly in the center of the rosy warm circle of light. All the bottles and jars on her mommy's table glittered in the light and refracted their myriad colors and crystal facets into the mirror, to tempt her with their mysteries. And best of all, deep in the dim background of the mirror she saw herself standing, quite alone, on the threshold of all the secret wonders. The silver hairbrush glinted in the candle glow as Jennifer stepped forward in the empty room.
"Mommy?" she whispered again, looking around her in the dark cavern of the attic that loomed beyond the light. Without knowing why, she found herself looking to the mirror for an answer, but all was silent. Even the storm had finally quieted, exhausted from its efforts. Only the wind remained. It sounded around her ears, from far away, almost like laughter.