Rattlesnake Hill

by Leslie Wheeler

  Dear Aurelia,

  Your letter with the news of Leonora’s death has brought me such deep sorrow I hardly know what to say. To think she should be taken away by a cursed fever, just as I was about to come for her! I blame myself for not coming sooner, for ever leaving in the first place . . .

  Stunned, Kathryn dropped the letter. Leonora hadn’t died at a young age, but had lived to marry and have a daughter of her own. Aurelia had lied to Cutter to prevent him from coming. He’d spent the rest of his life, believing the daughter he hoped was his was dead. Leonora, meanwhile, had grown up thinking she was a Judd, when, in fact, she was the daughter of Marguerite and either Jared Cutter or Clyde Barker. Aurelia hadn’t given Leonora the ring, because then she would have had to explain about the love triangle. She’d held onto it until, on the verge of death herself, she finally told Emily the truth—or rather Clyde’s version of it. For some reason—a need to make long-overdue amends to Cutter?—she’d also given Emily the ring and Cutter’s letters. Aurelia hadn’t wanted to die with a guilty conscience. Emily probably didn’t either.

  Damn Aurelia! Kathryn wished the woman were still alive so she could tell her off to her face. She’d have to settle for Emily. Emily who had evidence that Cutter was more victim than villain, but had, nevertheless, perpetuated the lies about him.

  She grabbed the box of letters and hurried toward the door. She’d confront Emily with the awful wrong that had been done to her ancestor.

  Chapter 58

  Emily sat queen-like on the wing chair in the parlor. When she saw the box, she scowled. “I told you I didn’t want anything to do with that.”

  Kathryn’s heart hammered, but she managed to keep her voice calm. “So you did, but now that I’ve read the letters, we need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Yes, there is. If you really do know what’s in these letters, why did you say you hoped my ancestor was rotting in hell?” She hadn’t meant to come on quite so strong, but her anger got the better of her.

  “I never said that,” Emily shot back.

  “To Diana you did. It’s on a tape of your recollections.”

  “So?”

  “He didn’t deserve that from you.”

  Emily wrinkled her nose and sniffed, as if a bad odor had entered the room. “Why not? Killed his wife and blinded her lover, didn’t he?”

  “In the very first letter, he claims Clyde killed Marguerite.”

  “’Course he’d deny he was the killer. But him hightailing it to California right afterward shows he was guilty.”

  “He was planning to come back for Leonora.”

  “He may have said that, but he had no intention of returning,” Emily insisted.

  “He booked passage on a ship bound for Boston.”

  “He never came.”

  “No, because Aurelia lied and wrote him Leonora had died of a fever.”

  “What if she did? Leonora wasn’t his daughter. She was Clyde’s daughter.”

  “How do you know? The only way to determine parentage with certainty is by DNA testing, and they didn’t do that then.”

  Emily shrank into her chair. “Go away!”

  “Not until you’ve heard me out.”

  “I won’t listen.” Emily put her hands over her ears.

  Raising her voice, so Emily couldn’t help but hear, Kathryn said, “Aurelia told you Clyde’s version of what happened that night, but she knew from Cutter’s letters there was another side to the story. In fairness to him, she gave you the letters, along with the ring, leaving you to decide who to believe.”

  “There was never any question in my mind that Clyde told the truth.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I just can.”

  “What if you’re wrong about Jared Cutter’s being the killer, just as you may have been wrong about Gordon?” She hadn’t intended to bring up Gordon, but Emily’s stubborn refusal to budge, combined with her own growing doubts that Gordon had murdered Diana, made her push back harder.

  “What’s Gordon got to do with it?” Emily glared at her, but Kathryn caught a flicker of fear in her eyes. Almost as if the old woman had begun to wonder if she’d made a mistake shooting him.

  “What I said—you could’ve been wrong about both of them.”

  Emily’s eyes blazed and her face and the bare patches on her scalp turned red with rage. “I wasn’t wrong. It was the husband both times.”

  “You have no proof. The murderer could have just as well have been the lover. Both times.”

  “The lover both times?” Emily repeated in a strangled voice. “Do you realize what you’ve just said?”

  Horrified, Kathryn clamped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Oh yes, you did. And you—you—” Emily pushed herself up from the chair. Grabbing the cane hooked to the arm, she held it aloft as she advanced on Kathryn. After a few steps, she stopped and clawed at her chest. The cane crashed to the floor. A look of terror came over Emily’s face. The next instant she toppled to the floor like a scarecrow knocked from its perch by a strong wind.

  Kathryn rushed to Emily’s side. Oh, dear God, what had she done!

  Chapter 59

  Kathryn shut the door of the Farley house and went into the living room. She sank onto the couch, weighted down with guilt for having caused Emily’s stroke. Two days had passed since then. She’d just come from another visit to the hospital, where Emily lay in a coma, surrounded by a changing guard of family and friends.

  If only she hadn’t rushed over to Emily’s when she was fired up with anger. She should have waited until she was in a calmer mood, and had a chance to think things over. Then, she might have realized she’d have to tread very carefully when she confronted Emily, or better yet, not confront her at all.

  Emily had spent part of her life believing she was a Judd. To learn that her grandmother, Leonora, was the illegitimate child of Clyde Barker and Marguerite Cutter must have been a blow. A blow softened by Aurelia’s telling her that her great-grandfather wasn’t a murderer, but the victim of his lover’s husband’s jealous rage. Emily had made her peace with this. Now in her nineties, she didn’t need to be told that something she’d accepted as truth for a long time might be otherwise.

  Kathryn also wished she hadn’t challenged Emily’s conviction that the husband had been the killer both times. That had really set the old woman off. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if she were right. She’d tried hard to deny her suspicions about Earl, but they had finally pushed to the fore.

  I warned you about him, she imagined her grandmother saying. But did you listen? No! You went right ahead and got involved with a man who most likely murdered his previous lover. And who will kill you, too, if you don’t watch out!

  Kathryn shivered and hugged herself. Had she made a terrible mistake by falling for Earl? Was she really in danger from him? From where she sat, she could see the break in the woods that marked the beginning of Gordon’s road. Diana had traveled that road the night of the killings, and now Kathryn tried to picture her journey. She saw Diana, infuriated by the blare of rock music, storming into the woods to confront Brian a second time, and getting shot. That was one version. But Cheryl wasn’t certain she’d heard any music that night, and according to Joey Babcock, Brian wasn’t armed.

  Someone else could have taken Garth’s gun to the mill ruins, and that person could have been Earl. He went there to patch things up with Diana after their “spat.” But they had another fight and he shot her. Panicking, he dropped the gun and fled to the Stag to establish an alibi. The men at the bar didn’t realize he wasn’t there the whole time, because of the strong resemblance between him and his brother Wayne. And they were hammered, besides. Then, when Brandy called Hank about her missing son, Earl joined in the search and pretended to be sh
ocked by what they found.

  It all made sense except for one thing: Brian. While she could almost imagine Earl shooting Diana in a jealous rage—Millie had cautioned her about his jealousy, and since they’d become lovers, she’d caught glimpses of it—she couldn’t imagine him killing Brian. Earl just didn’t strike her as a person who’d shoot an innocent boy, even though the boy had witnessed him committing a crime. She ran through the scenario with Earl as Diana’s killer several times, but each time, she balked when it came to his shooting Brian.

  Garth, however, was mean enough to shoot both of them. Or maybe Emily was right, and Gordon had shot Diana and Brian. Yet much as she’d disliked Gordon, she had trouble picturing that big, lazy man exerting himself to such an extent. True, he’d gone after Emily. But that had been on the spur of the moment, whereas killing his wife would have required planning. Gordon would have had to go to Garth’s, steal the gun, and find his way into the woods. And without Diana’s second will, there was no evidence she was planning to leave him.

  Then again, Joey Babcock could have been lying about Brian not being armed, and Cheryl could have arrived on the scene too late to hear the music. She’d come full circle.

  Caught up in these different scenarios, Kathryn lost track of time. When she finally forced herself to take a break from the constant replay, she knew from the difference in the light that morning had given way to afternoon. Yet she remained sitting there, captive audience to another round of replays.

  “Star?”

  Her heart stopped. Speak of the devil. But was he really a devil? Or was she the evil one to suspect him? She felt a stab of guilt as sharp as if he’d caught her with another man. And said the first thing that came into her head: “How’d you get here?”

  “In my truck, same as always.” He looked at her wonderingly, as well he might after such a stupid question. “You must have been pretty distracted not to have heard me. Don’t blame you. Em collapsing like that’s been a big shock to all of us.”

  “Yes,” Kathryn said, glad of the excuse. “Have you seen her since I was there this morning? Is there any change?”

  “I just got back from the hospital, and there’s no change.”

  “Too bad. At least her family’s there in case she regains consciousness.”

  He nodded, studied her a moment, then said, “Speaking of family, Dad’s got something he wants to show us this afternoon.”

  “Now?” She stared at him with surprise.

  “Yup. He was going to put it off when he found out about Em’s stroke, but he’s changed his mind.”

  “What’s he want us to see?”

  He cocked his head, a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. “It’s a surprise.”

  In spite of herself, she fell into the game. “Oh, c’mon. Give me a hint.”

  “It’s something I think you’re really gonna like.” He grinned broadly, then with sudden boyish uncertainty, added, “At least I hope you will.”

  Against her better judgment, she followed him out the door like a child entranced by the Pied Piper.

  Chapter 60

  “Where are we going?” Kathryn asked, as Roy herded them across the road, away from the family compound.

  “Didn’t Earl tell you it’s supposed to be a surprise?” Roy looked at her with the same mischievous glint that had been in Earl’s eyes. They both had the joker gene, and where once Earl’s jokiness had annoyed her, now she found it endearing.

  “Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

  “Nope. Afraid I’d give it away if I did.” Roy winked at her. Kathryn smiled back. As they passed the white house, Kathryn saw Millie’s face at the window. She glanced away and when she looked back, Millie was gone.

  “Is it here?” Kathryn asked when Earl’s trailer came into view. With a shake of his head, Roy steered them into the woods. Here, the ground sloped upward almost as steeply as it did at the ledges on the other side of the road, but trees rather than rocky outcrops predominated.

  The two men plunged into the forest. Where were they taking her? Without realizing it, she began to lag behind. Earl and Roy passed out of sight then a few minutes later, Earl came jogging toward her. “Hey, slowpoke, get moving. Be dark soon.”

  “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.”

  “No. Dad wants to do this now. The going’s kind of rough, so I’ll give you a hand like I did to the cemetery.”

  “Is that what’s up here—another cemetery?” she asked, as he took her by the arm.

  “Nope.”

  “What then?”

  “Be patient.” He helped her up the hill to where Roy was waiting for them. They continued to ascend through trees and brush until Roy finally stopped. “Well, Kathryn, what do you think of this spot?”

  She hesitated, uncertain how to respond. They were in the midst of dense forest with nothing in sight. “It’s . . . nice,” she said finally, cautiously.

  “Glad you like it, ’cuz I’m giving this piece of land to Earl. It’s yours also, for as long as you two stay together. Consider it my Christmas present to you both. Was gonna wait till then to show you. But I got to thinking, what the hell, show ’em now. That way, Earl can start clearing the land before the snow flies.”

  His Christmas present to them. So that’s what this was about. Her mind whirled. When it stopped spinning, she realized they were staring at her like they expected something. Where were her manners? When someone gave you a present, you were supposed to thank them.

  “Thank you. Thank you very much,” she said, hoping she sounded sincere.

  Roy smiled and nodded. “The Farley house is gonna be sold eventually, and I don’t think you’ll like living with my boy in the trailer for very long.”

  True. So why did she suddenly feel trapped? As if she were being railroaded into something she wasn’t sure she wanted. Not now, when fear and suspicion had invaded the exquisite cocoon of love in which she’d wrapped herself for the past couple of weeks.

  “Even if you’re only here on weekends,” Roy continued, “you don’t wanna be tripping over each other, or tromping across the road every time you want a shower. You need a place of your own. I’m giving you the land to build it on. You’ll have privacy up here and a fine view once you cut down some of these trees. Have to build a road, too, bring up power lines, drill a well.”

  “Right.” Earl paced the area excitedly. His father joining him, they discussed where the house would go, which way it would face, and other details. Kathryn watched, amazed. Obviously, they saw clearly what she could barely perceive: a house with lighted windows and a curl of smoke rising from the chimney that Roy, a mason by trade, would build, piling stone upon stone with his strong hands. They saw a vista of rounded fields and forested slopes shading into purple mountains under a blue, cloudless sky that Earl would open up with his heavy equipment. They took pleasure in this view and in the sight of the house with its promise of warmth and comfort within.

  She wished she could share their vision. But she couldn’t. Not while her mind remained stuck in a different part of the woods where two people had died under mysterious circumstances. And if she expressed her doubts, would she become a hateful creature like Diana?

  A hateful creature that must be destroyed?

  Chapter 61

  Kathryn lugged the stack of Sunday newspapers into the house. She’d just come from another guilt-ridden vigil by Emily’s hospital bedside, and hoped to unwind with the papers. The pile of cookbooks on the kitchen counter reminded her of something else she needed to do.

  In a rash moment, she had offered to bring a homemade apple pie for tonight’s dinner with Earl’s family. She’d never baked a pie before, so she got a bunch of cookbooks from the library. A glance at the various recipes told her there were different ways of making both the crust and the filling. Unable to make up her mind, she bought the ingre
dients for the different kinds. All that remained was to pick a recipe and make the pie. She decided to postpone the chore and took the newspapers outside.

  The sun had come out and the temperature was edging into the fifties. She settled in a lounge chair and was soon engrossed in the arts section of The Boston Globe. It was quiet at first, but after a while she became aware of noise up the hill. The noise of heavy equipment Earl was using to clear the land his father had given him. Given them. He’d been at it almost a week now, starting the day after Roy showed them the land. He went to the site after he finished his regular jobs, working like a demon until it was too dark to see. Now that it was the weekend he was putting in entire days there, rising at first light and returning after sundown. She’d tried to get him to stop pushing himself so hard, but he wouldn’t listen, just said he wanted to get as much done before the snow came.

  Even at a distance, the noise was deafening at times. If it was bad here, it must be even worse further up the hill. She didn’t envy his parents and other family members living across the road from it, or Millie just below. Millie must know Earl was clearing the land so he could build a house for Kathryn and him, as he’d done for her. And she suspected Millie might not be pleased. They’d barely spoken since Fred and Marsha’s anniversary party. Millie always seemed too busy to talk when Kathryn saw her at the post office. The few times they’d run into each other at the hospital, other people were around and a private conversation wasn’t possible.

  What had been a rumble ratcheted up to a roar, then died down again, only to be replaced by a sound closer at hand. The ringing phone. She ran inside.

  “Kathryn,” Alan said, “I just got off the Pike and—”

  She was so startled she nearly dropped the handset. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I’ve got to talk to you. I know you probably don’t want me coming to the house, but is there someplace we could meet?”