Chapter 13
The nightmare pursued Dana relentlessly. The shadows were larger than ever, twisting and winding around her like huge black hands. They stroked her flesh, excited her body, made her cry out silently for escape and fulfillment at the same time. Her mind was a twisted groping mass of indecision. The evil of the shadows horrified her, but she could not run from them. She needed their balm, their caresses, their promise of orgasm. The gray walls vanished and became red velvet curtains, drawn aside so she could glimpse the heaven beyond. There were two doors, and she had to choose. They stood ajar, letting her glimpse the inner rooms. On the left, the tiny cubicle was stark and white, sterile and cold, like her room at the convent. The other door opened to warm gold, glistening in reflected sunlight, inviting her nudity. But in the shadowed corners, dark faces leered, lips drooled, bodies writhed in desire. She cringed, pulled back.
The choice had to be made. But she couldn't make it. The cold unloving white room repelled her. Yet the warm invitation of the gold one frightened her because of the lurking shadows.
She twisted and turned, tormented by her body and mind. The old nightmare of the hand with black hairs returned. The hand reached for her, the soft laughter floated in her mind. But quite suddenly, the hand was pushed viciously aside, struggling and fighting until it relinquished its claim on her and vanished. But somehow, the nightmare did not lose its horror.
When Dana finally woke, her head ached feverishly. For a minute, she could not recall where she was or what had happened. She opened her eyes slowly.
She was still on the red mattress. Next to her, Evan was snoring gently, his flabby belly jiggling with each burst of air. At his other side, Stephanie was humped with her knees under her, her rump in the air, as though one of the men had just climbed off her and she hadn't yet lowered her body to rest. Across their heads, Amelia's ebony form sprawled flat on its back. Nick lay close to her, his hand still pressed eagerly in her cunt, the fingers hidden between the thick red folds. Terry slept with her face at Nick's crotch.
Dana sat up very slowly. The night came to her memory. She looked in horror at the obscenely sprawled figures around her. But not very long ago, she had been one of them. She had played Evan's games, let herself be used, actually enjoyed it. She shuddered now in horror. How could she have done such things? Her face warmed with remembered delight and shame.
Where was Peter? She glanced around the room, into the open bath. He was gone. Only the stillness greeted her. Very carefully, she slid forward to the edge of the velvet pad and got slowly to her feet. She had to get away now, while everyone else was still sleeping, the house quiet. She had only to avoid the missing man.
She walked on tiptoe despite the thick red carpet. Her clothes were downstairs in the dressing room of the spa. Quietly, she turned the doorknob and smothered a sigh as the knob turned readily under her hand. She eased the door open and slipped out into the hall.
It was cooler here, and she shivered in her nakedness. She reoriented herself and headed for the back stairs that had brought them here. She rushed down as quietly and quickly as she could. She hesitated a moment in the corridor downstairs, then took the door that would lead her back to the pool and her forgotten clothes.
She opened the door cautiously and listened before entering. The room was empty. The entire house seemed quiet and deserted, except for the sleeping forms she'd left upstairs. Quickly she ran across the white, fur rug to the dressing room. just as quickly, she donned the garments she'd left there. She felt sticky and dirty. She wanted very much to wash, or even swim to cleanse herself, but she dared not take the time. She carried her shoes in her hand and crossed the spa once again, toward the front of the house.
She emerged close to the stairs and stopped. Some distant sound had alarmed her. A soft buzz had rung somewhere in the bowels of the house. Now, light footsteps approached. She darted back into the shadows under the stairway.
She heard the latch click and a voice said, "Yes?" It was Peter's deep baritone. She held her breath.
Another voice, vaguely familiar but not quite recognizable, said, "Yeah. I'm looking for Orville Stein. Is he here?"
The name was like an ice pick in Dana's heart. Orville, Stein. Orville. ORV. The man she had killed! Her throat tightened and fear cut off her breath. Someone was looking for him! She huddled into the shadows. The police? A relative? God! What would she do?
"No, I haven't seen him for a couple of weeks," Peter said in a carefully controlled voice.
'Did he know too?' Dana swallowed the sobs that erupted in her chest.
"That's funny," the other man said. "I was sure he'd be here." There was a moment of silence, then he added, "Can I talk to Evan Roeden?"
"I'm sorry, that's impossible. He's busy and can't be disturbed."
Dana thought of the snoring man upstairs. This man was protecting him, just like Nick was always eager to keep the rich man happy. Her assumption this black man was a servant had been wrong, she knew now. He was another of Evan's friends, a hanger-on, a leech and a patsy for the other man's money. Dana felt sick. She had gone along the same way. She was no better than any of them.
"Well, thanks anyhow. Maybe I'll call back."
The door closed softly and Peter's footsteps echoed dully on the stone entry. The sound made Dana shudder at the memory, too vivid, of Orville's body thudding to the stone. She pressed her hand to her mouth to smother the hoarse breathing.
The footsteps whispered up the stairs. Dana ventured from her hiding place and glanced up in time to see Peter go down the hall toward the game room. She ran across the stone in her bare feet and peered out the curtained pane of glass at the side of the door.
The man who had come to the door was just getting into a car. She stared at him, trying to place his face. Her mind refused to locate the scrap of information. The man slammed the door and the motor sprang to life. He leaned forward and reached for something on the dashboard. Just as he slipped the car into gear and it began rolling down the gravel drive, he put on the wide sunglasses.
The truck driver! The man who had stopped to talk to her when she cried at the side of the road! He's said he knew someone near Bladfield! And now he was asking for Orville!
Dana knew her secret had to come to light. The enormity of what she had done and the excuses she had made for her actions washed over her in a wave of guilty shame. She yanked the door open and ran outside, waving her arm at the receding car.
But it was too late. The car was already around the bend and she was cut off from the driver's view, just as Nick had been screened from hers so quickly that morning.
She stood a moment in the cool morning mist. She glanced back at the house. Peter had gone upstairs. To warn Evan? She couldn't take a chance. Quickly, she bent to put on her shoes as protection against the sharp stones. Her car had been moved, but she saw it around the far corner of the house in a carport. She ran to it.
She fumbled in her purse for the keys but couldn't find them. Of course! If the car had been moved, someone had taken them! A sob broke loose from her tight throat. Frantically, she searched the floor, hoping they'd be there. In desperation, she checked the glove compartment, then finally the visor. The keys fell into her lap. With a laugh of relief, she inserted the proper key in the ignition and prayed the car would not balk.
It didn't. The motor purred softly, and she quickly backed out of the enclosure. She spun the wheels on the gravel and got the car headed down the drive. She didn't look in the rearview mirror, she was too frightened. She could only think of escape, once again finding peace by telling the truth. It would not be easy, she knew, but it was the only way. She couldn't pretend any longer.
She squealed the tires as she turned sharply on the highway. The other car was not in sight, but she assumed the man had headed back to town. For some reason, she wanted to catch him, tell him the truth first. She pressed her foot on the accelerator. The old car jumped forward.
It was several miles before she caught sight of the other vehicle ahead of her. She was already going past fifty, a speed almost dangerous in this old crate. Unmindful of the danger, she pressed her foot to the floor. The old car shimmied and shook, but the speedometer crept up to sixty. She gained on the other vehicle. At this speed, she dared not try to pass. Instead, she pressed one hand to the horn and held it there.
The car ahead swerved for a second, then hugged the side of the road. The driver kept glancing up into his rearview mirror, and Dana released the horn to wave frantically at him. After a few minutes, he pulled his car over and slowed to a stop.
Dana had to move ahead of him, but she parked quickly and opened the door. He was already on his wav to her when she got out.
"What the hell-" He broke off as he saw who it was. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He looked at the car parked behind her. "Damn it, I thought there was something familiar about that crate!"
She nodded. "I heard you at the door asking for-" She couldn't finish. She gasped for breath.
"Take it easy," he said gently. He put his arm around her shoulder. "Come on, let's sit in my car. You're shivering."
She followed him to the new model car and climbed in. He closed her door and walked around to the other side to let himself in. Then he dug a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and put one between his lips. He held the pack out to her, but she shook her head. He lit his own and sent a thin spiral of smoke toward the windshield.
"Okay, feel like talking now?"
She didn't, but she nodded. It would only get more difficult if she delayed any longer. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder at the empty road behind them.
"Are you scared of something?" he asked.
She wet her lips. "Yes."
"Nothing's going to hurt you, not when you're. with me. Relax."
She took a deep breath and tried to smile.
"That's better. Now tell me about it." He turned on the seat and faced her, one arm resting across the back of the seat, the fingers touching her shoulder lightly.
"Is Orville your friend? The one you said lived near here?"
He looked surprised. "Yeah. Why?"
She moistened her lips again but they dried with her fear immediately. It was hard to talk. "I met him."
The man's eyebrows moved up to arches across his forehead. "Oh?"
She nodded quickly. "I had some car trouble on my way here, that day I met you. I got stalled, and it was dark, and I was lost." The words rushed out now, the truth flowing in swift torrents. She told him how she had seen the light and found the big house back in the woods, and been admitted to it. She couldn't bring herself to describe the details of the party in progress, but said the men were drunk and didn't understand what she wanted. She partially described how Orville had taken her to the side room and then passed out in his drunken stupor. She stopped, unable to tell him what transpired next.
He waited in silence, letting her take her time. Finally, he said, "I think I understand. You got trapped in the party, taken upstairs?"
She blushed and couldn't look at him.
His grip tightened on her shoulder and she looked at the hand. The thick mat of black hairs covering it struck a moment of icy terror in her heart, then she realized she was not in a nightmare. It was broad daylight, and the only shadows she had to fear were the ones in her own mind.
"Yes." The word was a breath. For a few moments, they were silent. A bird whistled absurdly nearby. Dana stared at her hands in her lap.
"Look, I don't even know your name," he said with a short laugh.
"Dana Mitchell."
"Look, Dana, I can see this whole thing is embarrassing you. If it'll make it easier, I know about the parties that guy has. I went to one once with Orv, and it was pretty far out. I never went back. I get my kicks in other ways. Don't beat yourself with that whip, kid. It's over and done with. You don't have to go back anymore if you don't want to."
She shook her head violently. "You don't understand. I went back last night. Oh, I didn't want to, but I had to."
He made a face. "Had to?"
She nodded.
He sighed. "Look, kid, from what you told me a couple of weeks ago, I surmise this is your first time out in the world. Right?"
She nodded.
"Living in a convent all your life doesn't exactly prepare you for the way things really are. If you haven't learned it already, you'd better now. You're a big girl and you're going to have to make some important decisions as you go along. If you don't like the kind of kinky parties Roeden throws, stay away from him."
Tears flooded her eyes. The words choked into a ball in her chest. She struggled with them. "I killed a man."
His eyes narrowed and he looked at her intently. "What did you say?"
She bit her lip and tried to hold back the sobs. "I killed your friend, Orville."
"Killed him? How?"
She couldn't look at him. In a low whisper, she recounted the accidental meeting on the stairs, the struggle, and the horror of Orville's body tumbling down the stairs and crashing against the stone entry, and the two men hiding the body to protect her.
"When did this happen?" There was a note of anger in the man's voice and Dana's heart sank.
"That next morning, two weeks ago." She twisted her hands, twining the fingers and undoing them repeatedly.
He swore softly and Dana cringed. There was no turning back now. The truth was out and she would have to face the consequences. He reached over and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.
"And that louse Roeden threatened to expose you unless you came out to the party?"
She nodded.
He swore again. "I've heard of some low tricks, but this one beats all! That man-"
"But I killed someone! I didn't mean to, but I did it! " The sobs broke from her now and she couldn't hold them back.
He moved closer to her on the car seat and took her m his arms. His hand stroked her hair, his arm held her tight, warm and pleasant on her flesh. "Hey, take it easy. It's all right. You didn't kill anyone. It's all right."
She sobbed, desperately wanting to believe him but knowing he was merely trying to make her feel better. She had seen the man fall, heard the crash of his body on the stone, saw his motionless form.
He lifted her chin and carefully wiped away her tears. He smiled and shook his head. "Listen to me. I'm not lying, believe me. You didn't kill Orville. You couldn't have. I saw him last week!"
She blinked and his face swam in the blur of tears. "You saw him?"
"That's right. I was in Hope River last week, Friday night. I saw Orv then." He spoke the words slowly and clearly like a teacher working with a slow child. "If I saw him last Friday, you couldn't have killed him the week before, now could you?"
She shook her head, not understanding but wanting desperately to believe.
He smiled. "I don't know what's going on, but I can make a pretty good guess. Either you didn't want to stay when Evan wanted you to, or he thought you might make trouble for him, so he came up with this scheme to keep you quiet and get you back there. More accurately, it would have been Nick's idea. Evan couldn't come up with anything clever if he tried. If he had a brain he'd be dangerous!" His obvious disgust and dislike for Roeden was evident.
She stared at him. "But I saw him fall." It was a whisper.
"Orville worked for six years as a professional stunt man on the Coast. He's a gymnast and a muscle man. He's driving a big cat now because he---likes booze and women too much to stay in training. But he can still fall off a building without breaking a fingernail." He brushed his hand across her cheek, pushing her hair back lightly. "They conned you, baby. It was all a trick. It was a dirty trick to make you feel guilty so you wouldn't call in the cops."
"But why?" It was too horrible to believe. The relief that should have flooded through her was still bound in fear.
He shrugged. "They forced you to stay that first night against your will. You could have hit them with charges of kidnapping, rape, assault and probably half a dozen other things if you wanted to."
"But I wouldn't have! I only wanted to get away! I never would have told anyone!"
"They didn't know that, baby. You could have been a threat, and they couldn't take the chance. So they cooked up the crazy scheme and you were caught. Orville is just dumb enough to go along with it." He shook his head. "I suspected something was up when I saw him last week, but I thought he'd found a new girl or something. He was hiding something, that's for sure."
The relief came with believing. It flooded through Dana, racking her body and erupting in sobs and tears. This time, he held her close and let her cry it out. It was a long time before she was quiet again. She looked at him through swollen red eyes.
"How can I ever thank you?" She laughed. "I still don't know your name!"
He joined her laughter. "It's Jim. Jim Hobner."
"Thank you, Jim. I feel like a new person. You must think I'm pretty stupid because of all this."
"No, just young. You've never met anyone like Roeden and Perry. They're a rare breed. They live for sex and they think it's the only thing in the world."
Her face reddened with sudden shame as she realized she had admitted her sexual activities to him. She felt awkward and uncomfortable.
"Hey, look at me," he said, tugging at her chin again when she turned away. "Look, kid, there's nothing wrong with sex, don't get me wrong! All I meant was that it doesn't have to come before decent feelings or consideration for people. To use a rotten trick like making you think you killed someone as a whip to get you to submit to their oddball games is sinking pretty low, even for them. Evan Roeden is an aging stud. He's afraid of losing his virility, so he works out these dumb ideas that give him a sense of power over women. I'll bet a buck he tied you up so you were helpless, right?"
She blushed but nodded.
"Yeah, that's his favorite. It gives him that power over you. It seems to make him feel he's irresistible." He laughed. "He's a nut, but his mooching pals go along with him because they get in on the fun and he also passes out money like it was going out of style tomorrow. There are a hell of a lot people in this world who don't want to work for what they get." He tried to coax a smile to her lips. "You don't have to feel guilty about anything. This was probably your first turn on to sex, right?"
Again, she blushed and nodded.
"It's only natural that you enjoyed it. That's what sex is all about. Not the kooky stuff all the time, but it is fun. That's why it's so popular." He grinned at her.
"Look, what do you say we go someplace and have a cup of coffee? We can move your car off the road. There's a side road and clearing just down a bit. Then I'll take you to town in my car. Have you had breakfast yet?"
She shook her head.
"Okay," he said. "Just sit tight, I'll move your car." He started to climb out, then looked back at her. "Unless you have to get back to your school. Are they expecting you?"
"No. I'm supposed to be visiting friends for the weekend."
"That settles it then. Wait here."
She watched him walk to her car, start it and drive it up the road and turn it into a lane. It disappeared from view behind a clump of alders. In a few minutes, he was walking back to his own vehicle. He carried her suitcase in his hand.
"I saw this and thought you might want it." At her startled expression, he added, "To make up your face. If I take you into a restaurant like that, they'll think I've been beating you."
She had to laugh. Suddenly, she felt very tired and dirty. She had not showered before running from the house. Her clothes felt sticky and her body damp. She knew she was a mess. "I really should go home and change."
He started the car. "I have a motel room. You can change there." He turned to grin at her. "No strings attached."
They rode in silence until he pulled in at the row of cottages behind the motel sign. He lifted her small bag and came around to help her out of the car. He unlocked the door and ushered her into the room.