"What was that all about, Aunt Bryn?" Brian asked.
"Nothing.Imean, nothing that I can explain right now. Listen to me guys, and pay attention, please.
I'm...uh...having a few professional problems. Help me out tonight. Please go upstairs and take your baths and help Adam for me, okay? And please! No soap fights, no yelling or screaming. Please?"
They both nodded at her solemnly. She heard Brian calling to Adam, and then the three boys were traipsing upstairs together.
When she heard the bathwater running, she started to cry.
Several minutes passed as she stood there, just allowing the tears to slide down her face. Then she dried her cheeks with her knuckles, made herself a cup of tea and sat down at the kitchen table.
She wanted to call the police, but she couldn't! Not after the warning she had been given. But what if it had been a bluff? Call the police, she told herself firmly. It would be the logical and intelligent thing to do.
No! She couldn't.Because the warning might not have been a bluff.
And whoever the whispering voice belonged to had a definite flair for destruction. Her darkroom was proof of that.
Oh, God! Bryn started to shake; she covered her face with her hands, fighting back a rush of hysteria.
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The boys had to be protected above all else...and how could she watch them and protect them at all times while she was working to support them? Even if she wasn't working, she could never be with all three of them always.
There was only one answer. She had to get the pictures back. Yes, she had to.
Bryn took a deep breath; the decision helped to calm her. She couldn't give way to frustration. She couldn't afford to sit there in tears. She had to think of the boys, and remember that they were precious above anything else in her life.
Her fingers were shaking. She stared at them, until she willed them to be still.
Bryn finished her tea and walked upstairs. The boys were just finishing buttoning theirpajamas . Adam's were off center by a mile.
"Hey!" she told him, sitting on the bunk to hold him close and start the buttoning process over.' 'Almost , Adam, but not quite!"
The tears started to well into her eyes, and she crushed him close.
"Smotherin' me, Aunt Bryn!"Adam protested. "Sorry, sweetheart. Sorry." She kissed his forehead and stood briskly to tuck him in. Then she kissed Brian and Keith, who both watched her solemnly "Thanks for being real good tonight, guys. I needed the help." "Aunt Bryn--"
"I'm really okay now. I promise. Aunts just get a little crazy now and then. Good night."
She turned off their light and closed the door most of the way, leaving it open just enough for a little of the bathroom light to stream through.
In the hallway she realized that she wasn't all right at all. She was scared to death. If someone had gotten into her darkroom, wasn't it possible that they could get into the house...? She hurried downstairs and started to arm herself with a kitchen knife, then decided against it. If an attacker was large, she wouldn't be able to fend him off, and she might just wind up stabbed by her own knife.
She chose the broom for a weapon, then checked every closet and every nook and cranny in the house, holding her breath in panic each time she threw a door open.
At last she convinced herself that if someone wanted her to get the pictures, he--or she--wasn't going to murder her until she had achieved that project, or at least tried to.
But she still wasn't going to be able to sleep easily. She didn't even bother to go up to bed, but spent the night on the couch with the television on to give her some desperately needed company.
She never really heard the television, though. She just lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to make plans.
She was going to have to play up to Lee. Be sweet, be charming--be seductive.To a point, at least.
Enough so that she could convince him to trust her. To return the pictures on her promise that she could do much, much better now that she...cared for him more. Understood him so much more...
She tossed on the couch, beset with anxiety--and blood spinning heat. She couldn't move in that close Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
on Lee--but she had to. She had to... she had to. And somehow she had to play the role so well that she could also keep a distance that was safe for her heart.
No, no, none of it could matter! She could think only of the boys! Lee had to help her. Surely he would.
She would do her act well. He would give her the pictures back, and the nightmare would be over.
But what if... what if he still refused?
Her mind drew a blank. If he still refused, then she'd have to resort to desperate measures. If he refused to give them back, then she was going to have to take them back.