A hot mixture of hurt and anger rose in her. Had they given her the onceover last night and decided to fake her out, to frighten her into leaving? The careful courtesy and stiff conversation were so different from the kindness they'd shown at first. She thought they'd accepted her, but beginning with the mean girls in school and extending beyond to women in groups there was a certain standard she'd never been privy to. They wanted her to fit in. It had happened more than once. Was it the same thing now at Wisdom Court, too? Was she always going to have to fight for a place at the table?
"Screw them," Eve growled. She'd show them it wouldn't be as easy as they thought. She might be a loner and a crazy writer. Her own mother had called her that. But she wasn't a coward and she wouldn't let a bunch of jerks drive her away.
* * *
The doorbell rang several times and then the sound of thumping came from the front door. Everyone except Brenna had come back for cocktails and conversation about their work during the afternoon.
Rose started to get out of her chair but Andrea was on her way out of the living room before she could get to her feet. "I'll go see who it is."
Kerry closed the notebook where she'd been making notes from the day's reading. "Could be Max. He'd wonder about the locked door."
They heard a loud slam and the sound of voices coming closer. "It's Eve," Noreen murmured.
It was an Eve they hadn't seen before.
Flushed and furious, she planted herself in front of the fireplace and drilled Rose with accusing eyes. "I want to know if you are trying to get me to leave Wisdom Court."
Rose's mouth opened in surprise but before she could answer Eve went on. "Too many things have happened since I got here, so if you took one look at me and decided to disinvite me, you've overplayed your hand."
"Wait a minute," Rose said as she stood up. "We have not disinvited you. What are you talking about?"
"All the tricks with the sounds and the stupid things written on my computer are what I'm talking about." Eve threw the papers she carried onto the coffee table. "More of the kind of thing that was going on back at home is what I'm talking about."
Kerry picked up one of the pages and scanned the words, looking up in surprise. "Definitely threatening." She let it fall to the table. "I don't blame you for being upset."
"I'm sure." Eve's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I don't suppose you heard my name being whispered."
Kerry shook her head, eyes wide. "Whispered? Not me."
Eve clenched her fists. "Ever since I arrived—no—ever since I told you about the stuff happening to me at home, you've backed away from me like I have Ebola." She shifted her gaze to Rose. "I wasn't making up stories and I wasn't lying. But I could feel you withdrawing. I'm not willing to put up with whatever game you're playing. If you want me to leave, tell me. I'll leave." She turned to go and then whirled back around. "And I know damned well you locked the door to keep me out."
They watched her storm out of the room.
"Eve, wait!" Aura Lee called.
Seconds later came another resounding crash as the door slammed shut.
* * *
Eve's tempestuous exit slowed to discouraged plodding.
They had some nerve. Especially Kerry, trying to make her believe she actually sympathized with her. Fat fucking chance of that. She trudged up the associate house steps, mind still struggling to come up with better comebacks to the reactions she'd gotten. Too late now.
She halted in front of the main door and fumbled with her key. Damn them, anyway, for spoiling her acceptance at Wisdom Court. She'd been invited! She was as good as any of them.
The key slid into the slot and she pushed her way into the hallway. A few steps took her to the door of her flat and she heaved a sigh as she let herself inside. I'm so tired of being alone. Nope, she couldn't afford to wander down that road. She smashed the keys onto the foyer table and marched toward the kitchen. Self-pity couldn't be an option.
"The sun's over the yardarm somewhere," she announced in the empty kitchen. A glance out the window showed the outside lights had been lit—the somewhere was here. "Well all right, then." She grabbed a tumbler from the nearest cupboard and reached for a bottle among the several standing behind an empty ice bucket in a corner of the counter. Brandy. Hmmm. It tasted pretty good last night. The cork slipped out with a satisfying pop and the liquid gurgled into the glass.
She sniffed the heavy scent and raised the glass in a toast to the old farmhouse across the courtyard. "Here's to the off chance of my being able to stay here." Her hefty swallow sent fire down her chest and into her belly. Coughing, eyes watering, she set down the glass and grabbed one of the barstools tucked under the island. Leaning against the polished wood surface, she waited for the effect to fade, a slow grin spreading across her face. I could get myself into so much trouble with this stuff.
Eve heard a scratching sound and swung toward it. Danica was in the office across from the kitchen and appeared to be readying herself to climb up the archway molding, digging her claws into the wood and stretching her body into the shape of a furry ski jump. She pulled her paws toward her again, leaving long scratches in the wood grain.
"Shit, what're you doing?" Eve pushed off the stool and lurched across the polished floor and into the room, heading toward the cat. "That bunch across the way already wants to boot us out of here. Now they'll make me replace the molding before they do." She snapped her fingers. "Danica, Dani, stop it!"
With supreme disregard, Danica dug in her claws again and pulled them toward her, leaving more deep grooves in the wood. Eve bent to grab the cat, her fingertips brushing along the furry back. She heard a heavy metallic click and the floor disappeared from beneath her feet.
She fell, her good knee striking something hard, and she yelled at the spearing pain. The back of her head scraped an edge as she dropped. No time to think. She hit stomach down on a hard surface. Everything went black.
* * *
The throbbing in both knees woke her up. Eve lay still as consciousness returned, mind trying to put together pieces. She had to get up; it was time to work. Eve licked her lips and tasted brandy. Had she passed out? She turned her head from side to side to deny it and felt the stab of pain from her scalp. "Oh, God." When she opened her eyes she froze.
It was utterly dark. She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten. Reopened them. The absence of light was complete. She could see nothing.
For a split second her mind reached for an explanation, but panic flared like wildfire and she cried out. No light, no shadows. No hope. From childhood it was her worst nightmare. Yesterday in the kitchen she'd gotten through the dark because of the people with her. But today, here—where was she? Her breath stuck in her throat as she remembered her cell phone. Madly she patted at the pockets in her slacks. Both were flat.
"Help me." Her voice was small, timid. "Help me!" Louder now. A full scream erupted from her throat, shocking her, but she couldn't stop it.
"Help me, oh God, please help me."
Her voice was swallowed in the close, dank air. Her sobbing intensified, building between hitching breaths, the sound of it hurting her ears, spurring on her horror. I'mblindI'm blindI'mblindI'mblind—
Evie?
She caught her breath on a sob.
Evie?
"Who's there?" Her voice cracked. "Is someone here?"
She couldn't hear an answer. Waiting in an agony of fear and hope, she moved her hands at her sides, patting the surface where she lay. Her fingers recoiled from the damp, gritty feel of it. Where am I?
Eve pushed both hands against the ground and forced herself into a sitting position. Something grazed her cheek and she brushed instinctively at her face, fingers tangling in gauzy strands. Spider webs? She whimpered at the stickiness on her skin. She could be surrounded by webs and not know it. One hand twitched with an impulse to flail at whatever hung around her, but she fought to control it. The idea of bringing down swaths of web onto herself made her w
ant to start screaming again.
Eve forced herself to breathe. Her sister had nagged her over the phone, wanting to help her deal with her broken leg. "Yoga's the thing, it'll calm you down, and it'll help you concentrate. You just breathe."
Yeah, that's what I need. I'll just breathe and the webs will go away and the lights will blink on. Everything will work out fine.
The air was musty and smelled of dead vegetation. Her breaths were coming faster. Hysteria bubbled along her nerves. Eve took a choppy breath and let it out, did it again. She was going to lose it and when she was found—if she were found—she'd be raving. Somehow she had to hang on.
That's my girl. She couldn't hear the voice; she could feel it, inside her.
"Who's there? Where are you?" She slapped both hands against the ground. "Dammit, answer me!"
After a long moment she got a response.
You can call me Charlie.
A laugh burst from Eve's throat and another crowded after. The next was a cough and soon she was heaving short, sharp sounds that made her even more frightened.
She could feel bile rising in her throat and knew she'd be vomiting any second.
Evie, stop it. Take hold, girl. You must stop.
The edge of desperation in the voice brought her up short. She grasped every shred of self-control she could muster and wrestled with the need to scream. If she could do nothing else at this moment, she could control her response to where she found herself. The silent battle went on for a long time.
As her breathing steadied and her heart rate slowed, she let her head sag, felt her spine relax. The storm had passed.
"I did it, Charlie." She tried to ignore the rasp of her voice. "Why don't you get me out of here?"
As she waited for a response, her muscles began to tighten.
"Dammit, you can't not be there. I need you. I need your help," she added thickly.
I'm trying, dear heart. Are you able to be very still? I'm trying to get through, but it means you're waiting a bit.
"I don't understand—"
And I can't explain right now. Please, work with me. Stay calm and try not to broadcast your feelings. I'm having a bit of bother with trying to get a message through.
Eve felt a tear move down her cheek. "All right. I'll try."
You're amazing.
Eve could feel he was no longer with her.
Time Out of Time
Severn waited until the kitchen maid shut the back door behind her. He'd hung in limbo while the house settled, until the staff wandered off to their own pathetic lives. His brain bubbled with resentment that they could impede him.
He gave another five minutes to allow for stragglers. At last he sidled out the library door and made his way to the stairs to the ground floor. If anyone appeared, he was getting a glass of milk to settle his stomach. The strain of measuring every action, of filtering every comment, was beginning to wear at him. He was surrounded by parasites.
"Sir?"
Severn nearly slipped on the stone step. Using every ounce of control, he turned slowly to the man behind him. "Yes, Simms, what is it? I thought you'd retired."
The butler was as immaculate as he'd been at seven that morning. He bowed. "It pains me to admit I was remiss in getting a message to you, sir. Reynolds was responsible for it, but he has not been seen today."
"Reynolds?" Severn bit back a smile at the memory of the noise his body had made when he'd tipped it into the marshland near the upper fields.
"The under butler, sir. When I discovered the envelope, I felt it incumbent upon me to give it to you as soon as possible."
Severn ground his teeth. The man never said anything simply when a soliloquy could be made. "You're most conscientious, Simms." He took the envelope from him. "Now you must get some rest. It's been a long day for you."
Simms nodded, unsmiling. "No longer than most, sir. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Severn waited until he could no longer hear the man's footsteps and went swiftly to the door hidden at the back of the huge fireplace. Modern appliances had taken the place of kitchen hearth tools. Handy for him.
He pulled on the wrought iron lever beside the left bracket supporting the spit. With a muffled rumble, the stone door opened and Severn eased his way into the passage. He pushed the switch on the wall and waited as the heavy door closed. He slipped the torch out of his coat pocket and shone its light along the rough stone of the floor and then down the carved stone steps. In a matter of moments, he was outside the locked entrance to the grotto below the house. He listened for any foreign sounds, but only the faint drip of water from the caves further down the tunnel could be heard.
The key slid into the lock easily and the large metal door swung inward, triggering the automatic lights. Severn entered and pushed the door shut, relocking it.
"Finally." This was his true home, not the pile of bricks and possessions stacked above it. He went to the big fireplace across the room and flicked the switch to turn on the flames.
He poured himself a large whiskey and lifted it toward the ceiling. To Reynolds. He seated himself in the leather chair hearing the crackle of paper and reaching for the letter Simms had given him. Pompous prick. He tore open the envelope and pulled out the one sheet of paper. He read the message scrawled across it, read it again. A transmission to the woman has been intercepted, source unknown. Await orders.
"Goddamn it." He gulped his whiskey and got out of the chair. There would be hell to pay for this and he would see to it personally.
He crumpled the letter and pitched it toward the fire. As the flames spread across the paper, the words curled and were consumed.
Chapter 7
The air nipped at Kerry's exposed skin despite the morning sun, a giant disc in the bright blue October sky. Water from the fountain still oozed into gaps in the courtyard bricks, reflecting the light into her eyes. She swore as she tripped over the rough surface, keeping as far away as she could from the holes above the collapsed tunnel. Neal was supposed to be fixing this.
Her ankle turned on a broken brick and she struggled to keep her balance. The backpack she carried slipped out of her hand, landing in one of the puddles and splashing the hems of her jeans. "Damn."
"Watch your step, or you'll end up part of the brickwork." Brenna took a big step over a larger area of water. She pulled her hoodie more closely to her and stuck her hands in her pockets. "As short as her legs are, I wonder how Noreen manages this."
"Good question." Kerry trudged behind her toward the back door of the old farmhouse. The grass was tipped with frost, and some of the yellow and rusty mums were rough around the edges. "I sure hope it doesn't snow anytime soon."
"You and me both. I haven't had a chance to get any warmer clothes." Brenna led the way up the steps to the back door and grabbed the knob, pulling it open. Warm air scented with spiced pumpkin poured out like a benediction. "That smells so good."
Kerry nudged her forward. "Go on in to the kitchen. Now I'm starving."
"You're letting the heat out," called Rose.
Kerry pulled the door shut behind her and glanced at the earlier arrivals. Noreen was sipping from a steaming cup, pulling back her elbows to allow Aura Lee to slip a plate in front of her. Another went to Andrea, snug in her brown turtleneck and jeans. She reached for a muffin from the almost overflowing basket in the center of the table.
Noreen grabbed her own muffin and neatly pulled the butter dish out of Andrea's reach.
"Hey! No fair." Andrea pulled a hank of hair out of her coffee cup and waited while Noreen slathered her muffin.
"All's fair when the sun shines as long as the enemy is otherwise engaged," Noreen quoted indistinctly, having stuffed a chunk of the pastry into her mouth halfway through.
Kerry laughed and slid into a chair. "Who the heck came up with that one?" She poured coffee for herself and leaned against the table to reach the muffins.
"Sybil Maris Mayhew, eighteen forty-four to nineteen thirteen." Noreen chewed w
ith great enjoyment. "She was a school teacher for much of her life and wrote a memoir about her Civil War adventures."
"Sounds more cheerful than some of your others." Brenna drizzled honey onto her muffin, waiting until the stream of gold came to a stop. She let the last drop fall on her finger and licked it off.
"She ended up marrying a dashing lieutenant in one of the Pennsylvania groups. He survived the war and they had seven children. A happy ending, I think."
Rose slipped into her chair and reached for her cup. To Kerry she looked a little smoother today, as if she might have actually slept through the night.
Rose's smile died when her glance came to the empty chair. "No sign of Eve, I take it."
Kerry shook her head. "Her curtains are open but I didn't see any activity."
Brenna poured more coffee into her cup. "How are we going to clean up what happened yesterday?" She glanced at Noreen. "Or are we going to let her leave? It would solve the problem of possibly having an enemy spy here."
Noreen pursed her mouth as she considered the issue. "It would be an easy way to remove her until we can be sure she's legitimate."
"You sound like a hit man, sort of." Andrea picked up another muffin and bit into it absent-mindedly. "Doesn't feel right." Her sidelong glance at Aura Lee took in the other woman's distress. "Feels like we ought to talk to Eve and tell her what's going on."
Rose stood up and headed toward the door.
Andrea raised her brows at Brenna, who grimaced and shook her head. "Where are you going?"
Rose glanced back over her shoulder. "I'm going to call Margery, the Board secretary. I can't stand sitting around waiting for shoes to drop. The info I asked about Eve," she explained in irritation at their blank faces. "Surely by now she's had enough time to look into Eve's nomination and acceptance. Along with her entire history."
Aura Lee frowned into the space in front of her. "I wonder what Eve meant about someone whispering her name. That sounded so strange."
All in Bad Time Page 7
