Chapter Eighteen
“Lloyd?” Beau repeated. “Oh my God, you’re right. Everyone thought he’d changed because of the war, but it wasn’t the war at all. He’d changed because he was an entirely different man.” Beau looked at Adelaide. “It’s William that’s buried in the backyard. You knew all these years and never said anything?”
Adelaide wrung her hands together, tears streaming down her face. “I swear I didn’t know what they’d done until years later. It was Catherine who got Lloyd back from Vietnam and hid him at her family’s lake house until they’d finished setting it all up. I mean, I knew Lloyd was pretending to be William. I’d practically raised those boys. They could never have fooled me, but Lloyd told me William was killed in Vietnam and that he’d taken his dog tags so that the military police wouldn’t arrest him.
“I didn’t know they’d killed William until Frances dug up the bones in the garden. My poor Frances. Her mind was already gone when Adam found her that night. She’d uncovered the bones and started screaming. That’s how he was able to get you away. Oh, my sweet, sweet Adam. He tried to do right.”
Sabine’s head began to spin. “What are you trying to say—that Frances was going to bury me alive in the backyard? Frances is my real mother?”
Adelaide nodded. “Please don’t blame her, Ms. Sabine. It weren’t her fault. My Frances was crazy from the disease.”
“What disease?”
Adelaide blanched. “Lloyd brought it back from the war and gave it to Catherine. She never knew until Frances’s mind started going. When Frances got meningitis, the doctors found it. She’d had it since she was born—passed from Catherine.”
“Syphilis,” Beau said, the disgust in his voice apparent. “Adam had scarlet fever when he was an infant. That’s what his medical records said, remember? They would have given him penicillin. Catherine had the scarlet fever too, so neither of them carried the syphilis any further.”
Sabine covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God. But Frances didn’t get the scarlet fever, so she never got the drug. That disease ate away at her for all those years. And my father? Who is my father, Adelaide?”
Adelaide shook her head and rubbed the unconscious Frances’s arm. “I don’t know, I swear. Someone hurt her. I found her in the bath scrubbing herself with steel wool. She’d already started to bleed in some places. I’m so sorry, Sabine. I would have told, I swear, but someone had to take care of Frances.”
“Adam knew, didn’t he?” Beau said. “He saw the bones and knew his mother and father had killed someone. That’s why he took Sabine and ran.”
“Yes, and since he worked with the doctor, I’m guessing he peeked at Frances’s medical reports and knew she was losing her mind and why.” Adelaide said. “I begged Catherine to let him go, let them be, but she couldn’t risk it. She tracked Adam and his girlfriend down and messed with their car. She never thought you’d find the family, Sabine, or she would have hunted you down, too.”
“Is that why she’s trying to kill me now? So that I won’t find out the truth?”
Adelaide started to answer but then froze. A horrified look came over her face. Sabine knew even before she turned around that Catherine was standing in the doorway. What she hadn’t planned on was the pistol that Catherine held, pointed straight at her.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Catherine said, “I had no reason to harm you. You thought Adam was your father and had no reason to think otherwise. I would have settled a nice trust fund on you and you would never have been the wiser. Killing you would only have served to draw attention to the family, and that’s the last thing I wanted.” She stepped into the room, and Lloyd stepped in behind her. “It’s a shame you couldn’t hold your tongue, Adelaide. I knew it was a mistake to keep you all these years, but you were the only one who could care for Frances. She’s been a trial since birth.”
“She’s lying,” Beau said. “I found the peanut oil and syringe in Lloyd’s pocket. They did try to kill you.”
Catherine spun around and looked at Lloyd, who shook his head. “No way. Catherine’s right. Sabine wasn’t a threat to us until now, and if I’d tried to kill her, she wouldn’t be standing here.”
“Well,” Catherine said with a smile. “It won’t be for much longer.” She motioned Sabine and Beau toward the other side of the bed. “I really don’t want to get blood on this suit. I’m trying to avoid complications in my story for the police.”
Sabine inched over to Beau. His jaw was clenched, and Sabine knew he was calculating every risk, every percentage of success if he reached for his pistol. But as long as Catherine was pointing her gun straight at Sabine, she knew he wouldn’t take the chance. And that was most likely going to get them killed.
“I think,” Catherine said, “I’ll take this golden opportunity to clear up all my problems. I mean, I’m going to claim that Frances went crazy and killed everyone. When she wakes up she won’t know whether she did or not.” With that, Catherine whirled toward the doorway and shot Lloyd twice in the chest.
Sabine covered her mouth as she screamed. It was as if time hung suspended. The shock registered on Lloyd’s face as he looked down at the red stain growing on his white dress shirt. He touched it and held up his hands, staring unbelieving at the blood dripping from his fingertips. He looked at Catherine, bewildered. He took one step toward her and stumbled, then crashed to the floor in a heap.
“Finally,” Catherine said, “I can live the life I wanted without hiding in this musty old estate. Lloyd never could manage to act like William in public, so I had no choice but to become a virtual recluse. It’s been like living in a prison. Worthless husband, crazy daughter, meddling housekeeper. But that’s all about to change.”
In the doorway, something moved, and Sabine squinted in the dim light, trying to make out what was in the hallway. A second later, Helena walked into the room and right through Catherine to stand between the murdering matriarch and her next victims.
“What a fucking mess,” she said. “I can probably knock that gun out of her hand. If you want me to do it, blink twice.”
It was a long shot, depending on Helena to get her ghost skills right on demand, but it still wasn’t as long as the possibility of Catherine shooting and missing them from a distance of ten feet. Sabine said a silent prayer for all of them and blinked twice. Helena nodded and her brow wrinkled in concentration as she turned to face Catherine. At the same time, Catherine lifted the gun and pointed it directly at Beau’s chest.
“I think I’ll start with lover boy here. Might as well clear the room of men. And after all, if not for him, we wouldn’t be in this position to begin with, would we?” She smiled at Sabine and her finger whitened on the trigger.
And that’s when Helena struck. She jumped across the room, faster than Sabine would have ever given her credit for, and hit Catherine’s arm with a semblance of a karate chop. The chop probably wouldn’t have been hard enough to make Catherine drop the gun under normal circumstances, but being assaulted by an invisible assailant was apparently enough of a shock for her to loosen her grip. Catherine cried out as the gun fell from her hand and skidded a couple of feet across the floor.
“It’s the spirits!” Adelaide screamed and threw her arms around Frances.
Catherine instantly recovered and dove for the weapon, but Helena drove her into the hardwood floor in a body slam the WWF would have been proud of. Catherine hit the ground with a thud and started to move when Beau said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Helena rose from the floor with Catherine’s pistol, a huge grin on her face. “How was that for a save? You owe me big, Sabine.”
Catherine’s eyes widened at what looked to her like a floating gun. Adelaide started to pray again, and Sabine had little doubt that the Catholic church was getting a new member come Sunday.
“Now, Helena,” Sabine said, looking uneasily at the gun. “Be careful with that. The safety’s not on. It could go off.”
Helena turned to face Sabine. “What, do you think I’m stupid? I know how a gun works, see?”
Before Sabine could stop her, Helena reached up with her other hand and tried to engage the safety. She must have pushed too hard because she lost her grip on the gun and it spun around on her finger that was placed in the trigger hole. “Shit!” Helena said and tried to catch the gun, but instead, she pulled the trigger.
Luckily for all the good guys, the gun was turned backwards and facing straight at Helena’s chest when it went off. The bullet passed right through the perturbed ghost and hit Catherine in the thigh. The murdering bitch went down with a cry and wailed as if she were dying.
Sabine took a step forward and grabbed the gun out of Helena’s hand. “Give me that before you kill someone.” She shot a look back at Beau, who was shaking his head.
Beau motioned to Catherine. “Move over by the bed. Sit next to the post.”
“I’m fucking shot, you asshole,” Catherine shot back.
“Then crawl, bitch,” Beau shot back, “unless you’d like me to give the gun back to the ghost and have her put a bullet in your other leg.”
Catherine shot daggers at Beau and pulled herself across the floor to the bed. “You’ll never prove any of this. Bunch of devil-worshippers, bringing demons into my house. I’ll press charges against you, and the local police will never believe a word you say.”
“Oh, that’s rich,” Helena complained. “The bitch killed half the local population but I’m a demon.” She looked over at Sabine. “Can I poke her in the leg, please? Or maybe pour alcohol in the wound?”
“No, Helena, as much as I would like you to, I can’t allow you to pour alcohol into Catherine’s bullet hole.” She looked down at Catherine and smiled. “I wouldn’t keep calling her a demon if I were you.”
“You’re all crazy,” Catherine said.
“No, they’re not,” Adelaide said, breaking off prayer long enough to put in her ten cents. “And the police will believe them, because I’m going to tell everything. Like I should have done all those years ago.”
Beau motioned to Sabine. “I brought a backpack in from my truck and dropped it somewhere in the hall when I saw Frances with her shovel. There’s a set of handcuffs in the front pocket.”
It only took Sabine a minute to retrieve the pack and less than that for Beau to secure Catherine to the bedpost. Sabine looked down at her, still amazed and appalled all at the same time at all the evil stemming from one central source. All those people murdered, and for what—money…a title…a house? Sabine would never understand.
But Catherine had denied any attempt on Sabine’s life.
“The least you can do,” Sabine said to the murderess, “is tell me why you were trying to kill me. It’s all coming out anyway. I deserve to know.”
Catherine gave her a dirty look. “I already told you I couldn’t be bothered.”
“Then what about the peanut oil and syringe that were in Lloyd’s jacket pocket?” Beau said.
Catherine frowned. “The jacket in the hall closet?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be damned,” Catherine said, a thin smile on her face. “Lloyd’s jacket is in our bedroom. The jacket in the hall must belong to Mr. Alford.”
Sabine stared at Beau in horror.
“Damn it!” Beau cursed and ran from the room, his gun in the ready position. Sabine rushed out behind him.
At the end of the hall, Beau pushed open the bedroom door and stuck the lantern inside. An open briefcase sat on the bed and Sabine could see a glow coming from underneath the bathroom door. Beau eased the bathroom door open and peered inside as Sabine lifted a folder from the briefcase.
“No one’s there,” Beau said.
Sabine opened the folder and looked at the black-and-white photo on top. It wasn’t recent, if the woman’s hairstyle and clothes were any indication, but there was something about her face…She flipped the photo over and read the penciled words at the top corner. Mom, 1955. She flipped the photo back over and took a second look. Still nothing. She handed the photo to Beau for his inspection and looked at the next document. It was a death certificate for a Sandra Franks, identifying the cause of death as drowning. Sabine frowned.
Sandra Franks was one of the names she’d found when searching for the women from her aunt’s journals. But what in the world was Alford doing with her death certificate? Mom, 1955.
Sabine stretched her mind to recall the conversation they’d had at Alford’s office. He’d mentioned losing his parents at a young age. She flipped to the next sheet and found a copy of a journal page. Her pulse began to quicken:
I’m afraid for me and my children. I haven’t heard from William in over four months, and even with him in Vietnam, that’s a long time. He promised to put a stop to this charade his family is putting on about his engagement to Catherine. He swears I am the only one he will ever love, and I believe him. He’s told Catherine he will never marry her, but I think she has her mind set on being a Fortescue. I’m afraid for my babies. If his family finds out, I’m not sure what they will do. Even worse, I’m not sure what Catherine will do.
She claims to love William and want a life with him, but I see the way she looks at Lloyd in church and I know the way the wind blows. There have been noises outside of my house three nights in a row, and now the dog is missing. I’m afraid someone has found out William is the father of my children, and that has put us all in danger.
I pray daily that I will hear from my love, but there is a stone deep in my stomach that tells me it is already too late, and I will never see my William again.