by BETH KERY
“Your friend?” Valeria repeated, laughing nervously. “We hadn’t discussed that part of the job yet.”
I stood there for a few seconds soaking in that information, my mouth hanging open.
“I was just explaining to Valeria that we need someone to do some cleaning, some light gardening on the terrace, laundry, errands, meal prep. Valeria takes classes at the local college on Tuesdays and Fridays, but she’s available to come out in the afternoons the rest of the days of the week,” Evan said, his tone light and conversational. Reasonable. His response stood in sharp contrast to my rude interruption.
He hadn’t even mentioned anything to Valeria about being my companion. Maybe he’d changed his mind on that angle, after all.
I shifted on my feet. Now that some of my self-righteous fury was draining out of me, I was becoming more aware of my surroundings. I could hear the sound of pounding hammers and the buzz of a saw in the distance. The construction crew was hard at work, demolishing the viewing room.
My defiance hadn’t entirely left me, though.
“I can do those things,” I told Evan firmly. “Haven’t we managed fine so far?”
“We’ve done okay, yes. But this is an enormous house, Anna. With extensive grounds. To be honest, I’m used to having far more than a cleaning lady coming in one time a week to help keep it all up. I have my work, and you have yours. This will free us up a little to not only do it, but to do other things as well.”
I noticed the sensual gleam in his eyes, and knew he was referring to the idyllic day spent together yesterday. It was unfair on his part, alluding to it, no matter how subtly. He knew I’d be partial to that line of argument. He sounded so reasonable that I felt hysterical by contrast. For a strained few seconds, we just stared at each other.
“Excuse me. But does this mean the job isn’t available after all?”
Evan and I blinked at the small voice. We turned our attention to Valeria. Her awkward uncertainty went through me like a lance. I suddenly saw myself through her eyes. She really must think she’d landed herself in the midst of a very unpleasant domestic situation.
“Of course it’s still available,” Evan said.
Valeria looked relieved. “Oh, good. Because I really need the work.”
I cursed under my breath, feeling like an absolute bitch.
“I’m sorry, Valeria. Really. I’m not usually so rude. I misunderstood Evan’s intent.” I glanced at him. “But I still don’t appreciate you doing this without telling me about it,” I told him quietly. He just nodded once, and I knew he’d gotten my message.
“I see everyone’s met.” We all turned to see Wes enter the room. He looked disheveled, slightly sweaty, and out of breath. With a sinking feeling, I realized I owed him an apology as well, storming off and leaving him up there on the overlook.
“I’m sorry for running off like that,” I said as he approached, sounding like a broken record of an apology. “I misunderstood when you told me about Valeria and the interview.”
“I assumed there was some kind of mix-up,” Wes said, his light brown eyes wide and sincere. There was a pregnant pause.
Evan gave a bark of laughter. I turned to give him a repressive look for laughing at such a tense moment, but noticed the hint of a smile on Valeria’s lips as well. Embarrassment over my behavior swept through me. I must have looked ridiculous, exploding into the room like my head was on fire. Laughter burst out of my throat. Valeria gave me a wary glance, but then she started to chuckle, too. Wes appeared perplexed at our strange behavior, but after a few seconds, he grinned. He reached for Valeria and patted her back. Her long hair covered his hand, but I thought I saw him stroke her warmly.
Familiarly.
“So… difficult interview, Valeria?” Wes asked her cheerfully.
“Well…”
“She aced it,” I interrupted, stifling my laughter. “Didn’t she?” I asked Evan.
“Without a doubt. I already called all your references before you came, Valeria. According to them, you’re hardworking and highly trustworthy. I’d be happy to offer you the job… if you’re still interested?”
“I am,” she said, glancing sideways at me. I rolled my eyes, and she laughed. She really did seem like a nice person.
“Then the job is yours,” Evan said.
“Can I show you around the house and grounds?” I asked her, eager to give her a better impression of myself.
“I’d like that.”
“That’ll give Evan and me more time to catch up,” Wes said amiably.
I wondered if Wes would confess to Evan what he’d told me up at the lookout about Elizabeth.
Valeria and I toured the house and the stone paths around the grounds. I found her to be warm and friendly. She was two years older than me, and lived in Tahoe Shores with three younger siblings, an older brother, and her grandmother, who was sickly.
Valeria had been working as a waitress at one of the North Lake casinos while attending college part-time. When the news had broken that the casino would be closing, it’d been a hard blow. She, her older brother, and a younger sibling were the breadwinners for the Caro household. I could tell she was very relieved about getting a new job, and one that worked with her busy life.
“This beach is fantastic. Look how calm the water is,” Valeria enthused a half hour later as we walked on the white sand of the protected little harbor. “Do you paddleboard or kayak?”
“I’ve done both before, yes.” I’d forgotten my sunglasses, so I shielded my eyes against the bright sun as I looked to the south at a gray stone building situated a ways down the rocky, natural portion of the beach.
“I’m pretty sure we don’t have paddleboards, because Evan has talked about ordering some. But I think there are kayaks. I’ve never searched for any because I’m usually at the beach alone, and the idea of going out by myself didn’t appeal. But I’m thinking they might be stored in that boathouse? I’ve never been in there. Do you want to walk over and see what’s inside?”
Valeria nodded eagerly. We made our way down the beach, walking between, and sometimes over, the massive granite boulders along the water’s edge.
The boathouse consisted of two buildings joined by a dock. One section was where motorboats or other craft could be moored. The other building looked like a large storage area. I tried the metal handle on the storage facility door, and groaned in disappointment when I realized it was locked.
An impulse struck me. I bent and picked up a corner of the mat in front of the door. The material crumbled to dust in my hand, but I still glimpsed what I wanted before the disintegrating mat flopped back into place.
“Well done,” Valeria said when I held up a tarnished key.
The key took some fiddling before it finally released the lock. I walked into the boathouse first, peering into the shadows. There was only one little window at back of the building. It was covered with dust, making visibility poor. A musty scent suggested no one had been inside here for years. I fumbled for a light. I finally found a switch, and the room was illuminated.
“Excellent,” Valeria breathed out.
I counted five kayaks mounted on one wall. In a large wooden box I could see partially deflated rafts and inner tubes. Dozens of paddles were propped up in the corner. On another wall, four mountain bikes hung from racks. What appeared to be two jet skis sat in the middle of the room, covered with gray tarps.
Valeria passed me and lifted the cover on one WaveRunner, then another. “These are in great shape,” she said, smiling over at me. Something caught her attention on the wall directly next to me. “And look.”
Hanging on the wall next to me, a modular storage system contained several wetsuits, boots, and fins. Inside a nearby closed cabinet, we found tanks, hoses, buoyancy compensators, regulators, flashlights… everything needed for a dive, and then some. I’d already
told Valeria I’d learned to dive while I was in college, and she was apparently an expert. We felt like we’d hit the mother lode.
“We should try to go out sometime soon,” I said excitedly, lifting one of the wetsuits off the wall. “I’ve heard diving in Tahoe is amazing.”
“You’re going to love it.”
I sniffed at the wetsuit and winced at the musty smell. “These are still in pretty good condition, but the neoprene is a little dry.”
“I’ll come down after I start work, inspect the equipment, and get everything into good working order,” Valeria said, closing the dive supply cabinet with a bang. “I mean… if that’s okay with you and Evan.”
“It’s fine by me. There’s some great stuff in here. I’m surprised Evan never told me about all the equipment. It’d be nice to inventory it all,” I said, looking around the facility thoughtfully. “Clean things up, put a couple kayaks closer to the beach for easy access, throw away stuff that can’t be used anymore.” I reached for another wetsuit. “For the time being though, I’m taking all of these in to wash them.”
There were five suits hanging there, two small ones and three large. I thought the larger ones had probably once belonged to Evan. Or Noah? I knew who had probably worn the smaller ones, but I didn’t dwell on it. The discovery of the treasure trove inside the boathouse, in addition to Valeria’s enthusiasm and warmth, had me energized. Plus, my sleep for the past few nights had been deep and dreamless. It felt unusually easy to be optimistic. It felt good to effortlessly push aside thoughts of Elizabeth.
Maybe I owed Evan an apology about his idea to hire Valeria. She seemed to be having a positive effect already.
“When do you think you might start work, then?” I asked Valeria as we left the boathouse, our arms loaded up with wetsuits and boots.
“I can start tomorrow, if you guys want me to.”
“That’d be great. I’d really like to get begin sorting that out,” I said, nodding back at the storage facility as we made our way along the shoreline. “We could do it together, maybe after—”
I broke off at the abrupt sound of glass shattering. It was immediately followed by an animal-like growl, the sound making my skin tighten and prickle.
Valeria and I both froze in place and looked upward, to where the sounds had originated. We stared up at the South Twin’s turret. From an upper window protruded a fist and forearm, both scarlet with blood.
Someone—a woman, I thought—shouted out in surprised anguish. I saw the outline of a man’s upper body in the broken window, and then there was a fluttering of movement behind him.
I had the fragmented, irrational thought that whomever the hand belonged to had made such a fist of rage, it’d squeezed the blood right out of him.
In one fluid, swift movement, the glistening, red arm slid back into the room.
I ran into Evan’s office, Valeria trailing after me. He and Wes were talking in the sitting area of his office.
“Evan,” I gasped when he looked around with a startled expression. “Someone… a man… punched through a window at the South Twin. There was blood. I didn’t know if I should call 911 or not? There was someone else there with him, helping—”
Wes stood. “Go ahead and call 911,” he said to Evan. “I’m sure his nurse has already called, but it won’t hurt to call twice. I’ll head over there. He’s still my patient.”
“Evan? What does he mean? Who’s still his patient?” I asked.
“Let me call 911 first,” Evan said quietly.
Valeria and I exchanged an uneasy glance while Evan made the call. I wondered if she was thinking she’d taken on too much with her new job, given everything that had happened already. And today had just been the interview.
Evan hung up the phone. He seemed preoccupied as he stared out the window.
“Evan? Was that man who punched through the window Noah Madaster?” I asked shakily.
He blinked and focused on my face.
“I think it was, yes. Wes was just giving me the news that Lorraine and Noah had moved back to the South Twin when you two ran into the room.”
“How long have they been here?” I asked disbelievingly, recalling how I’d felt watched several times while painting up at the overlook. Had it really just been this afternoon that I’d seen the definite outline of a man before the shadow had abruptly dissipated? The disturbing image of that bloody, punching fist flashed into my mind’s eye.
That fist definitely hadn’t belonged to a ghost.
“I’m not sure,” Evan was saying. “Apparently, Noah had a bad accident years ago. He suffered a spinal cord injury and lost the use of his legs.”
“You didn’t know he was injured?” I asked.
“No. I’ve dealt with his lawyers in the past seven years, never him personally. Wes says he’s hired a nurse to care for him here at Les Jumeaux. He’s wheelchair bound, but insists on staying mostly in the top suite of the tower. There’s an elevator in the house, but it only runs from the tower to the second floor. According to Wes, he rarely leaves the upper floors of the house anymore, because it would require someone carrying him down the stairs. That’s not the kind of thing Noah would ever let happen.”
Of course. That’s why the shadow had swooped away so rapidly, it’d looked like a magic trick. He’d been on wheels. Someone had pulled Madaster away from the window.
I realized Evan watched me with a worried expression. Without thinking, I crossed the room and hugged him. He felt stiff in my arms for a moment before I sensed the give in his flesh. His arms encircled me. He pulled me tight against him. I felt him press his mouth to the top of my head.
“It must have been scary, seeing that,” he said gruffly, his hand cupping the back of my head.
“Why did he do it?” I murmured against his chest. “Did that accident affect his brain or something?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, kissing the top of my head again. “Where were you two when it happened?”
“We were coming from the boathouse. We’d just passed beneath that tower,” Valeria said from across the room.
“You were over by the South Twin?”
I leaned my head back at the sharpness of Evan’s question.
“We walked over to that boathouse to check out what equipment was inside,” I said breathlessly. A horrible thought struck me. “Is that why Madaster had a fit and punched through the window? Were we on his property? Trespassing?”
A muscle twitched in Evan’s cheek.
“Absolutely not. Don’t worry about that,” he said firmly.
“Evan… is that why? We found scuba gear in there, and we took some suits out to wash them. Were we trespassing? Taking property that belonged to him? Is that why Madaster got upset?” I demanded, sensing a crack in Evan’s confidence.
“No.” He exhaled in obvious frustration. “Maybe Noah thought so, but in fact, you weren’t. The boathouse was shared by both properties when they were joined, but if Noah had bothered to read the specifics of the most recent property allocations from the court judgment, he would know the boathouse belongs exclusively to the North Twin… to us,” he added, giving me a pointed glance.
“So don’t begin to imagine that you were responsible for him doing what he did, Anna. Maybe he did suffer some kind of brain injury that would make him impulsive or self-destructive. He always did have a problem with his temper. Maybe the injury worsened it.”
I sighed. I suddenly felt exhausted, like everything had been going in super fast motion, and was now slowing to a burdensome crawl.
“What do you think we should do?” I asked Evan. “Should we go over and see if Wes needs any help?”
“No. Wes was just explaining before you arrived that he’s hired a live-in nurse. And in any case, Noah wouldn’t rest any easier having me walk in the room.”
“A nurse. I’ll bet t
hat’s whom I saw. Driving out of the South Twin that day,” I said. I started. “If that’s true, then the Madasters having been living at the South Twin since before we arrived.”
As I stared up at Evan’s tense face, I heard the far distant sound of a siren through the opened French doors. We remained silent, listening closely.
“It’s close. His nurse must have called 911 after all,” I said. “Do you think he could have hurt himself badly?”
“Broken glass at your wrist can never be a good thing, especially for a frail man.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I need to go and activate the front gate so the ambulance can enter. I think I better jog out to the fork in the road, too… make sure the ambulance doesn’t waste any time by taking the wrong direction and coming our way.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said, starting toward the door before he had a chance to argue with me.
“I’ll wait here for Wes,” Valeria told me as we passed.
By the time we reached the front steps, I could tell by the sound of the siren that the ambulance had reached the mountain road turnoff to Les Jumeaux. “We’d better run,” Evan said.
So we did. Inevitably, I fell behind his long-legged, athletic pace.
“Go ahead,” I panted when he glanced back at me over his shoulder.
He took off like a jet.
I reached the fork in the road just in time to see Evan waving the ambulance in the correct direction. They barely slowed upon seeing him, just swerved to the left and disappeared into the pine forest.
I bent over, bracing myself with my hands above my knees, trying to catch my breath. The air felt unusually heavy and humid for typically arid Tahoe. I wondered if we’d get rain later.
In the distance, the siren abruptly stopped. When I straightened after my breathing had evened a little, I saw that Evan just stood there at the fork in the road, staring in the direction the ambulance had just taken with the oddest expression on his face.
“Evan?” I asked uncertainly.
He blinked and looked at me.
