Chapter 9
Before Mildred located Rafe, she met other peo-ple and was seen by still others. She was seen by the Lazer twins, under a truce at the moment.
They were lounging in the Buick in front of the Warrenton Theater waiting for someone to come along or something to happen, and saw Mildred's Impala roll into the square.
"She's driving her own car today," Paul said. "Uh-huh. The jeep must have been too bumpy."
"What was she doing with Rafe's jeep?"
"How do I know? What difference does it make?"
"None I guess, but-"
"But what?"
"I saw Armand Beck yesterday. He brought it up."
"What's he say?"
"Nothing, but-"
"Will you get the meal out of your mouth? He said something or he didn't."
"He just mentioned it. But there was a funny grin on his puss. It was like he knew something."
"That guy's for the squirrels. He don't know anything."
"But he had a funny look."
"You got a funny look, too," Dave said with disgust."
"Okay-okay."
Paul got up and climbed out of the car. He knew from experience the truce was about over and he wanted freedom in case Dave decided to clout him.
She met Tad Beck and his shadow, Ralph Wellington, as she crossed the square toward the supermart. Tad Beck said hello with the scant civility for which he was noted and Ralph smiled and bobbed his head.
After Mildred had passed, Tad gave her a quick backward look and said, "That woman gads around a lot."
Even Ralph had to object to this criticism. "She's going to the store. There's no law against that."
"I mean up on the Hill-in the woods. She's always out alone tramping around. Armand saw her the other day driving the Kolsky jeep."
"I didn't know she was friendly with Mrs. Kolsky, but I guess there's nothing wrong with that."
Tad replied darkly. "There's something wrong with a woman who gads around alone. You hardly ever see her with Vance. I wander if maybe there's trouble between them."
Then Mildred saw Rafe and it was like snatching salvation out of thin air. He pulled into the square, saw her Impala, and cut sharply in beside it.
Fortunately, she was going that way, so she didn't have to change her direction, and possibly promote comment by going back to the car to intercept him.
Such was the state of her tension and guilt-sense as she put her packages on the seat and smiled at him.
"Hello Rafe."
"Hello, Mrs. Hager."
At least he hadn't called her Mildred, or darling, but she wished his expression hadn't reflected quite so much pleasure.
"I heard from your mother."
"Uh-huh," Rafe said happily. "I told her to call."
Mildred was frightened. Rafe had changed. The shyness was gone. He glowed with new life and vitality.
"What did you tell her?" Mildred asked, trying to keep her expression pleasant and casual.
"I told her to have you over for tea. I want you to see our place."
"Rafe. I've got to talk to you. You're being very foolish."
"I want to talk to you, too. Shall we go to Full Moon?"
"Good heavens, no! I just want a few words with you. We can meet somewhere."
"Not around here. How about the old picnic grounds on the far side of Rebel Hill? Nobody goes there much."
"All right."
"An hour?"
"I'll be there."
Mildred turned away with a pleasant good-bye. Then, because someone was passing close by, she called, "Tell your mother I'll see her tomorrow afternoon."
She started the motor. An hour. It would seem like a year.
There were other strands in the fast-tightening web: At about that same time, Mack Penrose was entering a Madison Avenue cocktail lounge to keep a date with Nela Varese. He hadn't been able to work. He'd sat all afternoon at his desk thinking. He'd thought a lot about Nela and what Jean had said, and his newly born jealousy had brought the two images together.
What, he'd wondered, was so good about Nela's life? Why was it so satisfactory to her? Seeing her with new eyes, he now looked cm her as a healthy, passionate woman. Yes, passionate! He could see that now, Nela was the kind of woman who needed love.
All right. Where was she getting love?
He waited impatiently at a table until she arrived. As he seated her, she looked at him curiously.
"Mack-you're upset. What's the trouble?"
"There's no use beating around the bush."
"Of course not. Out with it-whatever it is."
"There's another man in your life, isn't there?"
Nela appeared to be deciding whether to be angry or amused. She decided in Mack's favor and smiled. "Isn't all this a little too dramatic for words? Your cryptic phone call-this must be something of tremendous importance."
Mack realized he was making a fool of himself but he couldn't help it He'd never been in love before and hadn't learned how to control that potent emotion.
"I suppose it is, but I've got to know. And I think I'm entitled to know."
Nela's smile vanished. "Just a minute, Mack. We've been good friends, that I grant, but-"
"That's all changed as far as I'm concerned. I'm in love with you, Nela. That gives me some rights."
"This is all very sudden."
"You knew about it last night."
"You asked me to marry you, yes."
"And I meant it. If I want something, I'm not die kind of man who stands by and lets it slip away."
"That's all very commendable, but I suggest you take your hobnailed boots off and walk a little more softly. Your voice is rising, too. Please keep it down."
Mack had been unaware of his surroundings. He glanced around and lowered his voice as he said, "You're sleeping with someone, aren't you, Nela?"
She did not answer him. He waited. Her face was composed and there was no anger or anything else in her eyes. Then she spoke.
"Mack, if you had any idea about marrying me, you killed it dead with that question."
But her calm exterior was a blind. There was outrage underneath. And it was far closer to the surface than it appeared to be.
"It's Vance Hager, isn't it?"
Mack threw the question very suddenly, straight and hard.
And Nela's mask cracked.
"Yes. It's Vance Hager. Now I'm leaving. And I suggest that you never call me again...."
Macklin Penrose sat staring into his glass for a long time after Nela left. A thousand thoughts rammed through his brain. They were mainly self-condemning. He'd acted like a high school boy talking to his first love. The realization of what he'd done shook him deeply and put a lot of common sense back into his head. Perhaps he hadn't been in love with Nela at all. Maybe he was reacting like any other fall guy. A man didn't like to discover he'd been shaking hands with a beautiful woman at her door while another man walked in later and made love to her.
Resolutely, he cleared his mind. This was ridiculous. He wouldn't call Nela again. In fact, he didn't think he wanted to. This wasn't a certainty, but something else was.
He hated Vance Hager with the worst kind of hatred, the kind generated by jealousy.
But he couldn't do anything about it. He'd been Vance's backer. He'd pushed Vance into success. He could block the vice-presidency, but that was all. He could not turn on a dime and rip the foundations out from under him. By doing that he would be admitting his own judgment had been wrong originally.
He could only sit back and hope that Vance's luck would run out.
He could only wait and hope.
Mildred Hager reached the picnic ground first. She was almost tearfully grateful that it was deserted and she begged all the gods to keep it that way.
She got out of the car and paced about for a time among the empty beer cans. Then she got back into the car and tapped the wheel with impatient fingers. Why didn't he come?
Forcing her mind to quiet down, she turned it upon the incidents that had brought this crisis into being, the evil luck that had pursued her.
But had it been luck at all? Had she merely been fooling herself? This pattern of seeming chance-where had it brought her? At a time when her love life was in trouble, she had been guided straight and sure into the arms of another man.
Had she known it from the beginning? Had her conscious interests in Rafe been mere camouflage?
Had she known from the first moment that she was going into his arms?
She squeezed her eyes tight shut, symbolical of squeezing the terrible thoughts from her mind.
Then the sound of a motor rode the still air and she sat frozen, every muscle tense, until she saw the jeep come into view.
Relief swept through her. She felt suddenly weak, and dropped her head into her arms as they lay across the steering wheel.
The jeep rolled in and stopped. Mildred did not move, dreading to raise her eyes to look at him. She felt his aura as he approached. He opened the car door. She heard his whisper: "Darling, I could hardly wait."
Mildred was pulled out of the car into Rafe's arms. His mouth found hers as she struggled.
"No, Rafe! No! You're insane!"
"Insane with love! I've been going crazy for you!"
"I came here to talk!"
"Later. I want you. I want you so bad that I can't stand waiting!"
"Stop this! We've got to talk. I've got to know what you told your mother."
Mildred had gone to her knees in the struggle. Rafe was on his knees also, nuzzling at her throat.
"Oh, my darling!" he choked. "I can't wait 'til you divorce Mr. Hager and marry me!"
Mildred felt as though she'd walked into the center of a crazy nightmare. She tried to push Rafe away but now she was prone on the hard ground, his weight was against her, and his kisses were filled with frantic hunger.
"Rafe! You've gone crazy! Not here! Not here in the open!"
"We'll go into the trees then?"
He was bargaining with her and there seemed nothing she could do but fight for time by bargaining back. In another few moments he would have her undressed.
"Yes-all right-but not here!"
He got up and lifted her to her feet. "Over there," he said. "There is thick grass behind those bushes. Hurry!"
He began dragging her along and he staggered as she walked.
He was not the same Rafe she'd met on the hill nor the one who had loved her at Full Moon. This new Rafe was all lust, all desire. There was no tenderness or consideration in him. So far as he was concerned, he owned her now. She was his to use.
Mildred felt a surge of relief as they went into the bushes. She'd been deathly afraid out there that someone would walk into the picnic grounds.
That terror abated, she turned to the one at hand. She backed away from Rafe with a pleading gesture.
"No, Rafe. We must talk. This mustn't happen. The other was an accident. This can't go on."
"Well talk afterward," he choked and pushed her hands away. "I can't wait."
"Rafe! Stop!"
He forced her to her knees and his face was close to hers. He looked into her eyes. "You want this as bad as I do. You know that's true!"
"Of course, but-"
She hadn't meant to say that. They were only words. But they'd been said and they were surrender so far as Rafe was concerned.
"Afterward," he whispered. "Then we'll talk."
Sobbing, Mildred did surrender.
Her mind stopped working coherently during the next few moments. Rafe was there and she was there and there was no resistance left for her.
At Full Moon, there had been a fire ignited by two people. There, that had been mutual; a flame of mutual love.
This was different. While Mildred did not resist, there was no answering fire for her and Rafe treated her like an unresisting doll.
The grass was soft and cushiony under her body. She was aware of her total nakedness and the roughness of his partially clad form on her skin.
But mainly, she was aware of his ravenous, insatiable young lust, his frantic haste to fulfill himself before he was too late, before he suffered the humilating defeat of the cemetery.
He was in time and Mildred responded in spite of herself, surrendered to the savage possessiveness with which he took her.
Then he lay exhausted, his breath rasping against her throat.
An apology now, she thought miserably. Now he would turn into the shy, stricken little boy and beg her forgiveness.
But he didn't. He recovered quickly and spring to his feet and looked at her. He laughed happily. "You look wonderful that way, darling. Just looking at you drives a man crazy."
"Please. Give me my clothes."
He kept on laughing and looked at her impudently. "No. I'm going to keep them. I'm not going to let you dress."
As she reached out, he lunged past her hands and snatched up her clothes and danced away.
"I'll never let you dress again. I'll make you walk around that way, so I can adore all of you."
"Rafe, please! I'm begging you!"
"Why are you so lovely?"
Mildred sat naked on the grass and began to cry.
He was contrite instantly. He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry, darling! I didn't mean to shame you. It's just that you're so lovely. Here-let me help you dress."
Mildred wanted to dress herself, but it was easier to let him help than to go on battling with him.
When he lifted her to her feet, the gaiety went out of him. He was like a child after a party.
"And now we have to talk, I suppose."
"Yes, Rafe. Why did you bring my name up to your mother?"
"Because I want you to see where I live. I want to show you my room-the things I have."
"Are you out of your mind? I can't go into your home on those terms. You must be crazy!"
"You keep calling me mad and crazy. Well, maybe I am. With love. When two people are in love they want to show that to the world, don't they?"
"But I'm a married woman. I have a husband. I have a son and a daughter almost your age!"
"But they aren't really yours."
"No, but-"
"You will have children though." He seized her hand and dropped to his knees as he kissed her palm. "We'll have beautiful children, you and I."
"We'll have no such thing!"
"Do you mean you don't love me?"
Mildred jerked her hand away. "Rafe! That was only an incident. I loved you yes. I wanted you, I was hungry for you. But we can't let that ruin both our lives!"
"A love like ours is everything!"
Mildred dropped to the grass. What was the use? She was defeated. How could she talk to him? How could she make him understand?
He was on the grass beside her, reaching for her. She jerked away violently and got to her feet.
"Oh, no, you don't! We've had enough of that!"
"Until next time."
"There'll be no next time!"
She stood there for a long moment fighting for expression, looking for words to say. But she couldn't find them.
"Rafe! Just leave me alone!"
And she turned and fled.
She ran blindly to the Impala and plunged in behind the wheel. "Mrs. Hager!"
Mildred laughed hysterically. It was so funny. The boy knew her. She had given herself to him totally.
And still he called her Mrs. Hager.
She jerked the wheel around and gunned the motor. The Impala rocketed out of the picnic grounds and almost turned over as it veered into the road.
Behind Mildred, a stricken voice was calling. "Mrs. Hager! Please come back."
And again the strands of the web tightened: Verne Getchall had been uneasy all the morning, and by mid-afternoon, he knew he had to settle the matter. He had to destroy or verify the thing that was gnawing at him. So he started out toward Full Moon.
He was a skilled woodsman and had no difficulty in finding and following the path. But as he progressed, he kept telling himself that Bonnie could not possibly have done that alone. Continually reassuring himself of this, he moved fast and made the trip in less than an hour.
The melancholy mood of the place meant nothing to him. He hardly looked at the forlorn buildings as he approached the mansion and went in the front door.
He covered the first floor, still fighting with the thing that was in his mind. He tried to tell himself that he was wrong. He realized the forest did not frighten Bonnie, but as far as Verne knew, she had never wandered this far. And he reaffirmed his conviction-Bonnie would not have traveled alone from Cow Hollow to this forlorn place called Full Moon.
He found the room a few minutes later. He stood in the middle of it looking about, not daring to examine his own feelings.
The room had been used, and recently. Someone had made a grotesque attempt to make it habitable. He looked at the bed, the draperies, the furniture that had been lugged in.
Verne Getchall spent ten minutes in the room. Then he strode downstairs and out of the house and back through the woods to Cow Hollow.
Bonnie was coloring a picture in a book when he got back. She smiled and held her work up for Verne's inspection.
"It's very nice, honey, but I want you to put the book away and listen to me."
"I'm listening, Daddy."
"I want you to tell me again about the place you went."
"The old house?"
"Yes."
"I told you, Sir Lancelot took me there. It was King Arthur's court."
"But it wasn't just make-believe. There actually was a house-and a room upstairs."
"Yes."
"And a real man took you there. Not a make-believe man."
Bonnie looked up at her harrassed father. She was confused. "But you told me about Sir Lancelot and King Arthur yourself."
"Yes, and it's all right for you to play with them, but sometimes we have to think hard and remember what really happened. That's what I want you to do."
His gravity frightened her and even though he had never been other to her than the spirit of kindness, she cowered.
"I just walked to the old house. I found a path. It was strange and quiet there and I went upstairs and lay on the big bed."
"But who was with you? Who took you there?"
He refused to believe that Bonnie could have made the trip alone. Someone had taken her to that place. And he had to know who it was.
Bonnie began to cry.
Patiently, Verne took her in his arms and cradled her. "It's all right, honey. I'm not scolding you. I just want to know. Someone took you to that house, didn't they? And it wasn't Sir Lancelot. Someone took you up into that room."
She wanted so much to please him. He was all she had and at times she dreamed that he had gone away and those dreams were awful. Somehow she realized she was a trial to him and that bothered her too. And she was afraid now that he would get angry with her and go away.
She nodded mutely, studying his face. What did he want of her? What did he want her to say? "Who took you there, Bonnie?"
"I don't know."
"But you can remember if you try real hard. Was it a man?"
Bonnie nodded. "Yes, Daddy. It was a man."
"But not Sir Lancelot."
"No."
They were on the right track now. Bonnie knew that they were. She gave no thought to the truth-that she had indeed found her way to Full Moon and back all by herself. That didn't matter. It was what her Daddy wanted that mattered.
"Was he an old man or a young man?"
Bonnie guessed. "He was a young man."
"Tell me what he looked like."
"He was tall and handsome and he rode a white horse."
"No, dear, not Sir Lancelot. The young man who took you to the old house. Tell me about him."
Bonnie searched her poor mind for a young man. The one that came to the house to see Daddy? No. He wouldn't believe that one. Bonnie did not remember his name anyhow.
"Who did you meet in the woods, Bonnie?"
She remembered a young man she'd met. Yes, she remembered. He'd talked to her and said funny things and then he'd gone away.
"He had black hair."
"How old was he?"
"I don't know. About as old as the boy that was here with the lady."
"Was he fat or thin?"
"He wasn't fat, but he wasn't thin, either."
"What did he say to you?"
"He said he had an automobile and he'd take me for a ride."
"Did he say what kind of an automobile?"
"No, but once when we went to town I saw him in it."
"What did it look like?"
"It was red and didn't have a top." Bonnie was thinking hard now. "He said the name! He said the name! It was a Corvette!"
Verne Getchall smoothed Bonnie's hair back off her forehead. He ran gentle, loving fingers over her cheeks. "That's fine, honey. You did fine. I'm proud of you."
She was still troubled. "Daddy, is it still all right to ride with Sir Lancelot on his white horse?"
"Yes, dear. It's all right."
Bonnie kissed him. "I'm glad."
"Why don't you go to bed now? It's getting late and I've got some things to do."
"All right, Daddy. Will you stay with me 'til I go to sleep?"
"Yes, honey. I'll stay until you go to sleep."
Verne waited until Bonnie was deep in her child's dreams and then left Cow Hollow. He had no car He walked; down the winding road, striding along like a grim giant; into the first tavern he came to; into a telephone booth.