Blood Trance

by R. D. Zimmerman

  “But?”

  “But then we heard something. Ray got up. We saw him.”

  “Who?”

  “Ray thought it was Billy.”

  “What did he do, Loretta?”

  “Ray got very upset. He went after him. I tried to keep Ray, to hold him, but I couldn't.”

  Only it wasn't Billy out there in the woods. I knew the rest. Even as Loretta recounted it, I understood what had happened. Ray hadn't heard Billy, he'd heard me. Then he must have seen me creeping across the front yard, sneaking around Loretta's house. He must have thought this was his chance to get Billy, but he came charging after me instead. Jumped me. Nearly strangled me.

  “But that wasn't Billy that Ray attacked, was it?” asked Maddy.

  “At first I thought it was, too. I thought he was going after my brother. So I threw on my dress. I ran. But Ray was already there. By the time I reached the road, Ray had already jumped him by the house. He was killing him. And then I saw who it was.”

  “Alex?”

  “Yes, your brother. I'm sorry, really I am. I thought it was my brother but it was yours. I did what I could, really I did!”

  “I know,” said Maddy. “And you did something wonderful. You probably saved his life.”

  “I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”

  “No, Loretta. There's nothing to worry about. Alex is alive and fine. You did everything right. You saved him.” Maddy gently said, “Tell me what happened next.”

  “Ray dropped him. Dropped Alex. He realized who it was. I thought Alex was dead. But he wasn't. Ray and I bent down, and Alex was breathing. Then I heard a scream. I looked up and saw someone standing there at the back of the house. She screamed.”

  “Helen?”

  “Yes, it was Helen. She saw Ray.”

  “What happened next, Loretta?”

  “Helen ran back into the house. I chased after her. I knew she was going to get the knife. I knew it. So I ran after her. I chased her around the back of the house. Across the patio. Through the back door. She was in the kitchen screaming she was going to kill him. ‘I'm going to kill him! I'm going to kill him! I'm going to kill him!’”

  “Why would she want to kill Ray?”

  “I said, ‘No!’” continued Loretta. “I said, ‘No!’”

  “And then what did you do?”

  “I ran into the kitchen. We started fighting. Helen screamed and pushed me away. She shoved me against the counter. And then she ran into the living room. She was going to go out the front. I chased after her. She couldn't kill Ray. Ray was a sad man. She couldn't kill him. I wouldn't let her.”

  “You chased after her, and then what happened?”

  “Oh, God!”

  “It's all right, Loretta. It's over. You can tell me.”

  “I ran after her. She was rushing through the living room. I grabbed her by the sleeve. She pulled, and then she started to turn on me with the knife. So… so I pushed her! And then… then…”

  Very calmly, Maddy said, “And then she fell?”

  “Yes, Helen fell.”

  “Did she cut herself?”

  “No.”

  “But something bad happened?”

  “Yes. She hit the edge of the coffee table. Her head. It just cracked on it. Oh, God. Helen fell and hit her head!” Loretta started crying. “And she never woke up again.”

  “Where was the knife?”

  Nothing.

  “Loretta, where was the knife?”

  “Over there, on the floor. By the chair.”

  “Did you pick it up and stab her?”

  “No. I mean… I mean…”

  “Was she dead?” asked Maddy. “Loretta, tell me, was Helen dead after she hit her head?”

  “No!”

  “You saw her lying there, and what did you do?”

  Loretta was sobbing now. She'd raised herself forward in her chair. Still in a trance, she doubled over and buried her face in her hands.

  “I didn't know what to do! I didn't!” she exclaimed. “There were two people. Alex and Helen. Both of them were like dead. What a mess! What trouble!”

  “But neither of them was dead, were they? So tell me, Loretta, what did you do next?”

  “At first I…”

  “Go on.”

  Loretta shook her head furiously. “No!”

  “What did you do next, Loretta?” pressed Maddy.

  “I… I called…”

  Bent over, her head pressed all the way against her knees, Loretta was sobbing so hard that we couldn't understand. She tried to say something, but it made no sense. No sense until another voice cut in and clarified it all.

  Completing her older sister's words, Carol Marie, her voice low and rather numb, said, “She called me.”

  Chapter 32

  A deathly silence descended over us all. Carol Marie just sat there, face blank, staring at Loretta, who was sitting in the recliner and still sobbing. And my sister, my Maddy, was sitting forward, reaching for her wheelchair, for the trance was broken, at least for now.

  Finally, Carol Marie cleared her throat, and continued, saying, “I was at home. The phone rang. It was Loretta. She said something had happened to Helen. And… and she said there was someone outside who might hurt her.”

  As Maddy pulled herself into her chair, I looked over at her, tried to discern what she thought of all this. I was distracted, though, by a sudden noise from outside. Someone yelling. It was Alfred, his deep voice booming through the encroaching night. I turned to the French doors, feared what might be happening, and then heard the dogs start to bark loudly.

  “What's that? What's going on?” said Loretta, raising her tear-streaked face.

  Maddy quickly replied, “Nothing.” She turned to Carol Marie. “Did Loretta say who it was?”

  “Well—”

  The phone on the side of Maddy's wheelchair began to screech, shattering the already tense situation. Maddy, who never received calls up here, was clearly startled; her body jolted at the first ring, and then she quickly fumbled for the phone, snatching the receiver out of its holster.

  “Yes?” she snapped.

  I thought about last night and the noise we'd just heard outside, and I knew what this meant. I knew what was going on. I just didn't know how it was to be handled.

  “I see,” continued Maddy into the phone. “All right. Then you know what to do.”

  All three of us—Loretta, Carol Marie, and I—were staring at my sister, and as soon as she hung up, Loretta jumped to her feet.

  “What's going on?” she demanded, and then hurried to. the balcony doors. “What were those dogs barking at?”

  Maddy turned her chair around, and said, “It's nothing for you to worry about, Loretta. I have several people working for me, and everything's under control.”

  “Is someone here?”

  “Let's just finish up here and we'll go out and see, all right?”

  Loretta, though, would not be so easily calmed. She rushed over to Maddy, stood right in front of her. I was behind my sister, and I studied Loretta's heated, blood-red face, which frightened me nearly as much as what might be going on outside.

  “Is it him? Is he here?”

  Carol Marie blurted, “Loretta, please…”

  “Shut up!” Loretta leaned forward, pressed down on the arms of my sister's wheelchair. “Tell me, it's him, isn't it?”

  A sharp gunblast from outside cracked the evening. Just a single shot that silenced us all, and for a long, awkward moment none of us moved.

  “Oh, God, no,” muttered Loretta. “They won't hurt him, will they? They won't shoot him?”

  My sister, her voice strained, said, “It's all right. No one's going to be hurt.”

  I could see it all, the tension and the fear, about to burst within Loretta, and I stood and protectively approached my sister from behind. God knew what Loretta was capable of.

  I said, “Loretta, why don't we—”

  “No!” she shrieked.

&nbs
p; She leaned forward and in one great heave shoved my sister's wheelchair backward. Maddy cried out as she was sent hurling and plowing into me. I tried to catch her, but the chair came with such force and speed that it hit my right foot and tipped. All at once I was lunging to the side, trying to catch my sister as she was dumped over. But it was to little avail, and the two of us fell in a tangled mess onto the floor.

  As Loretta lunged for the door beneath the dome, Carol Marie screamed, “Loretta!”

  Carol Marie tried to grab her as well, but Loretta elbowed her and sent her stumbling back.

  “No, I won't let them hurt him!” shouted Loretta.

  She threw open the door, bolted out and down the stairs. I scrambled to my feet, reached for my sister.

  “Stop her, Alex!” she shouted. “I'm fine. Just stop her!”

  I rushed across the room, through the doorway, and to the top of the circular stairwell. Loretta was almost down to the second floor, her huge dress billowing like a parachute as she charged downward. As if she were possessed, she screamed and shrieked as she ran, and I hung on to the oak banister, took the steps two at a time. I circled around, rushing after her, reaching the second floor just as she neared the first, then bounding down the last steps as she tore across the entry and out the front door. I was just seconds behind her, just a few mere steps, but when I hurled open the front screen door and then leaped out onto the veranda, there was nothing but the first darkness of the night. I jumped off the porch, onto the ground, hurried out to a clump of lilac bushes. Behind me I thought I heard a door. She wasn't sneaking back into the house, was she? No. There. Out in the woods. I could hear her now. Hear Loretta as she rushed into the forest and into the heart of the island.

  Chapter 33

  I charged forward and toward the old barn, passing from the lawn and into the woods. Then, however, everything was oddly and horribly still. I stopped, scanned the trees. The light was very faint, but up ahead I could make out the old barn and chicken coop, which stood in the middle of a clearing. If Loretta was out here I'd certainly be able to see her, but I couldn't, which meant only one thing. She'd tricked me; she must have somehow dashed back to the house.

  I spun around and took off. As I ran up the old carriage drive and toward the looming white structure, a porch light went on and Maddy and Carol Marie emerged from the front door.

  “Is that you, Alex?” demanded Maddy. “Where is she?”

  “I don't know what in the hell happened,” I began. “She just disappeared. She didn't come back in the house, did she?”

  “No, she couldn't have. I'd have heard her.”

  “Oh, no,” moaned Carol Marie. And then she stepped to the edge of the porch and shouted, “Loretta! Loretta, where are you?”

  Another gun blast burst the night, this time followed by a chorus of barking. It came from the harbor or perhaps the tall point.

  “Dear Lord!” exclaimed Maddy.

  She spun her chair as quickly and neatly as a tank, leaned over and lowered the wand thing down to the ground. Then with one big thrust she sent her wheelchair racing toward the rear of the porch and down the ramp. Carol Marie wasted no time in following, and then the three of us were rushing away from the house and down the path toward the harbor. I trotted alongside Maddy and, as we neared the grove of birches, noted that she wasn't going to make a corner. I leaned over, said nothing, jerked her back on course. Carol Marie jogged just behind us, her breathing growing more strained with each moment.

  With the black sky spreading out above us, we followed the racket of the dogs. Minutes later we came over a small hill and reached the dock, where a light was burning from a single pole. Just twenty feet away, standing near some heavy brush, I saw Alfred and Solange struggling to hold the dogs, who were jumping and leaping as if they had a rabbit or fox cornered in the bushes.

  “Maddy,” I said, “they've got someone trapped in the woods.”

  “Oh, God.”

  With the dogs shattering the night with their hysterical barking, we raced along, and I came up behind Maddy's chair and started pushing. As we neared, I could see Fran and Ollie struggling to break loose and I could make out a revolver in Alfred's hand, which he had aimed carefully toward a large bush.

  “Who fired?” demanded Maddy.

  “I did, not to hurt, just to warn,” replied Alfred.

  “Good.”

  Carol Marie nervously asked, “It's not Loretta, is it?”

  “No, it's a man,” said Solange, struggling to hold one of the dogs. “I spotted him on the north part of the island and we chased him here. He has no weapon.”

  “I knew he'd come back,” mused my sister. “Get the dogs away.”

  Alfred's voice blasted: “Back!”

  Alfred and Solange struggled with the huge creatures, pulling and yanking them by the collars. When they were silenced and out of the way, Maddy started wheeling herself forward; I took a step after her, and she quickly held out a hand for me and everyone else to stay put. Rolling herself off the path, Maddy continued across the dirt and up to the edge of the thick bushes.

  Into the mass of dark leaves, she called, “There's no need to worry; you won't be hurt. This is Maddy Phillips. Would you come out, please?”

  From within the tangle of branches, there was faint movement, and Maddy bowed her head, concentrated on what she was sensing.

  “You're perfectly safe,” continued Maddy. “I can tell by your step that it's not Ray, which means it's probably you, Billy. Am I right?”

  At once, Carol Marie gasped, “Oh, God!” She rushed forward, charged right up behind Maddy. “Billy? Billy, is that you? Are you all right?”

  I saw a figure dart past a branch, heard quick steps, and the dogs went wild all over again. Solange and Alfred jerked on their collars, shouted at them, pulled them back under control.

  A voice from the darkness shyly called, “Carol Marie?”

  She demanded, “Billy, what the hell are you doing here?”

  As he emerged from the brush, Carol Marie grabbed him, pulled him out, and gave him a hug. Just as quickly, she pushed him away and visually checked him.

  “You're not hurt, are you?” she asked. “You're not shot or anything?”

  “No, I'm… I'm fine.”

  From nearby, my sister said, “Hello, Billy. I'm Maddy Phillips. I really didn't expect you. What did you do, steal a boat? Maybe a car as well?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You shouldn't be here. You're just complicating things.” Carol Marie nervously asked, “But where's Loretta? She's somewhere out here.”

  Maddy said, “Alfred, Billy's fine with us.”

  “But—”

  “No, he's fine, really. He won't cause any problems. We do need to find Loretta, though. Would you and Solange check back by the barn? Just be gentle. And please put away your pistol. She's very frightened already.”

  “We'll find her,” confidently replied Solange.

  Taking the dogs, the two of them hurried on, and I turned, studied Billy. He stood there in the dim light, looking tall and scruffy, his clothes filthy, his hair probably unwashed. I doubted if he'd bathed since I'd last seen him.

  “We should scatter,” suggested Carol Marie, obviously desperate. “We've got to find Loretta before anything happens.”

  “Absolutely,” said my sister. “But first there's something I have to ask Billy.”

  “What?” shouted Carol Marie. “You can't be serious. Loretta's running around half out of her mind.”

  “There's something I don't quite understand. Something I need to know so I can help Loretta.” She looked up at him, asked, “Billy, how much had you been drinking the night Ray Preston's daughter was killed?”

  “I can't believe it!” said Carol Marie.

  “Well, how much, Billy?” repeated Maddy.

  He pulled away, stood there in the dark in those awful, reeking clothes. Khakis that were streaked with dirt. A tattered yellow shirt. I could almost see
him trembling. Or was it merely his clothes flapping in the breeze?

  “So you were pretty drunk, Billy, right?” pressed Maddy. “Aren't you getting tired of not telling what happened that night, Billy? Come on, now. We haven't much time. Helen's dead. It doesn't make any difference.”

  His anger burst, and he blurted, “Sure, I was shit-faced. I had a lot of beers. I don't know how many. I lost count.”

  “God, we can't get into this right now,” said Carol Marie. “We have to find Loretta.”

  “Of course we do,” agreed Maddy. “But for Loretta's sake there's something I have to find out.”

  Carol Marie shook her head. “Well, it wasn't what you think!”

  “No, I suspect it wasn't,” said Maddy. “Billy, the police found you behind the wheel of the car, didn't they? So was it you who ran the red light or not?”

  “Go ahead, you might as well tell her, Billy,” said Carol Marie. “It's about time someone knew the truth.”

  I noted how Billy looked at his sister. How their eyes met and held in the night. And then he broke his silence.

  “I wasn't driving,” he said flatly. “She picked me up. Helen did. She came down to work and I got in the passenger side.”

  “All right, so you got in the car,” said Maddy. “I imagine that Helen was quite mad when you got in. She probably smelled the booze on your breath. And I'm sure she was mad because she was worried about the business. Did she start yelling at you?”

  “Yes.”

  Carol Marie blurted, “But—”

  “Don't worry, we'll find Loretta. For her sake, this is just as important,” countered my sister. “Now Billy, what did you do?”

  “I… I…”

  “You said nothing? You sat there and let her yell at you?”

  “Yes.”

  Carol Marie broke in, shouting, “That bitch was always riding Billy. Always telling him he was no good. Telling him he should be more like Daddy.”

  Maddy asked the stereotypical lead shrink question. The one that was like picking at a scab. The one that was really more antagonistic than it was sympathetic. Maddy the clinical psychologist asked the question that she'd probably asked a hundred people a thousand times.

  She queried, “And how did that make you feel, Carol Marie?”