When it came again, she realized it was Patricia. The screams came from the window above their heads. “Stay here!” she told her friends. She ran back inside and up the stairs to the back stairway that led to the wing Richard and Patricia occupied. She found a light switch and turned on the bulb before plunging up the staircase.
She found Patricia standing at the top of the stairs in her nightgown. Screams poured from her throat. “Richard!” she screamed when she saw Alanna. She pointed back toward the door that stood open.
Alanna ran for the bedroom. Her steps slowed as she reached the open door. What would she find inside? She couldn’t imagine what would cause the horror on Patricia’s face or the keening pouring from her mouth.
A green lamp with a white shade illuminated the man lying on the floor. He’d vomited and his head lay in the bile. Alanna didn’t have to touch him to know he was dead. No one living had gray color like that. Her steps slowed, and she knelt beside her father-in-law’s body. Pressing her fingers to his throat, she checked his pulse. Nothing. His skin was cold too. Should she try CPR?
It couldn’t hurt, she decided. She grabbed the edge of a sheet and cleaned the vomit from his mouth. Counting off the beats, she began to administer CPR.
Patricia was still screaming at the top of the stairs, only now she called Barry’s name. Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and Barry’s voice called out. “Mother, what’s wrong?”
“In here!” Alanna shouted.
His shoes pounded across the landing, and he burst into the bedroom. “What’s wrong?”
She paused the CPR, knowing the truth. “It’s your dad.” Her heart broke for what she was going to have to tell him. “I’m so sorry, Barry. I think he’s dead.”
He blanched and fell to his knees beside her. “You have to be wrong.”
She wanted to catch his hand and pull him back but knew he had to see for himself. He made an inarticulate noise, then laid his hand on his dad’s arm.
“Dad?” When he touched his father, he recoiled and a sob erupted from his throat.
Alanna embraced him, and he sank in her arms. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered.
“He can’t be dead.” His stare didn’t move from his father. He finally took a deep breath and straightened. “I have to pull myself together so I can help Mother.” In another moment, his cell phone was in his hand and he punched in 9–1–1. In a choked voice he told the dispatcher he’d found his father dead on the floor.
While he was on the phone, Alanna went to see if she could help Patricia. She found her mother-in-law seated on the top step and rocking back and forth.
Alanna touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Patricia. Is there anything I can do?”
With her swollen face and blotchy skin, Patricia wasn’t the put-together woman she’d been earlier in the day. “You’ve done enough.” Her voice was low and vicious. “He hasn’t been well—his heart. Worry over Barry caused this. It’s all your fault. Leave me alone with my son.”
Alanna’s hand dropped back to her side, and she stepped away. There was no way she could combat such irrational hatred. Without answering her mother-in-law, she went past her down the stairs. Tears burned her eyes. Richard hadn’t said much to her, and she didn’t really know him, but she grieved for Barry.
Jesse was waiting at the bottom of the steps. “Richard’s dead.” She hugged herself and stepped away from him.
“Dead?”
She nodded. “I think it was a heart attack.” In the distance, she heard a siren approaching. There was no need for the siren or for speed. No one could help Richard now. “I need to let in the paramedics.” She brushed past him.
He trailed her. “I can do it.”
She realized she’d dropped the kitten at some point. The feline wound herself around her ankles and mewed. Scooping her up, she headed for the front door without answering Jesse.
The ambulance came screaming up the drive. Her friends milled around the porch, obviously unaware of what had happened. Alanna stepped through the screen door and told them about Richard before the paramedics came rushing up the porch steps.
“I’ll show them where to go,” Jesse said.
Alanna let him. The thought of facing Patricia’s hatred again made her shudder. She sank onto a rocker on the porch.
Ciara knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”
“Just shaken,” she said, placing her hand over her belly.
“It was a banshee after all, you know,” Ena said.
“You can’t believe that,” Alanna said. “It was a heart attack.”
“Foretold by the banshee,” Ena said. “The legends don’t say the banshee causes the death. Just that it’s a warning.”
Alanna was too tired to make sense of her friend’s superstitions. “Did you see anything when you went exploring?”
Ena shook her head. “We were afraid to go far after we heard Patricia screaming.”
Jesse came back outside. “They’ll be bringing him down.”
From the upstairs window, she heard Patricia’s sobs kick up again. In spite of the hostility between them, Alanna’s heart ached for the woman. Alanna knew the pain of losing the man she loved.