“Richard.” Connor inched sideways along the wall. “He wasn’t part of this.”
“Oh, yes, he was part of it. He’d come down here with Ms. Talla and they’d drink and make love. He said he was Clay’s friend, but he wasn’t. I watched the things they did. He needed to die.” She moved to her right suddenly, blocking Connor’s escape route. “I killed Ms. Talla first, and now him. That’s justice.”
“You killed Richard?” Connor’s mind had slowed. It wasn’t possible.
“He was bending over and I stabbed him from behind. He was heavy, but I got him up there with the block and tackle. I’m very strong and very quick. Late at night I run through the woods, circling the house, watching in the windows. Ms. Talla saw me, but no one believed her. I’ve been waiting for a long, long time—sneaking and waiting. Clay would have wanted me back if you hadn’t come along.”
“Who are you?”
The woman smiled. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Connor lunged forward, using the wall to push off. She hurled the tiny flashlight in the woman’s face. Connor rolled across the aisle, landing up against the opposite wall, her breath raging in her ears.
Out of the darkness she felt fingers gripping her leg. “No!” Connor kicked out, but the woman’s grip was so strong that it almost paralyzed her calf muscle. It felt as if the fingers were digging to the bone.
“You took what should have been mine,” the woman panted.
With a supreme effort, Connor kicked and jerked simultaneously. She felt as if the muscle had been ripped from her left leg, but she pulled free. Hobbling to her feet, she threw herself down the aisle. Only darkness could save her.
“You can’t hide,” the woman said. “Not from me. I see everything.”
A gasp escaped Connor. She had to get out of the barn. At least in the dark she’d stand a chance.
The creak of the barn door alerted her that someone else had entered. Was it possible Clay had finally come home?
“Mommy?” Renata’s strained voice echoed in the barn. “Mommy?”
Connor’s heart wrenched. It was Renata. The trap she’d set so carefully for Clay had snared Renata and cost Richard’s life.
“Go back to the house, Renata,” Connor said, as calmly as she could. She knew that by talking, she might reveal her whereabouts to her assailant, but Renata could not stay in the barn. She could not find Richard hanging from the rafters. “Go!”
“Connor, what are you doing here?”
“Get to the house immediately!”
With a shriek the woman leapt at Connor from the darkness. The blade sliced into Connor’s left arm, opening a gash from shoulder to elbow. Rolling in the dirt, Connor escaped and scrambled to her feet.
There was the sound of someone running toward the front door and suddenly the barn was flooded with light. Connor saw the woman, crouched and ready to attack. But she was staring at Renata. And Renata was staring back at her.
“Hilla.” Renata breathed the name even as her eyes focused on Richard Brian. Renata’s mouth made a small round O, and a high and breathy sigh escaped.
Picking up a handful of dirt, Connor threw it in her assailant’s eyes. “Run!” she yelled at Renata. She didn’t wait for the child to react, she hurled herself toward her and snatched her up in her arms as she went.
The barn was a blaze of light as Connor ran toward the orchard and the deep woods. In the mayhem at the barn, she’d forgotten-the barn and house had separate power sources. Running from the bright lights, she had to find cover. Ahead of her Oaklawn was still black and deserted.
Renata was limp in her arms, and Connor fought back the urge to stop and make sure the child was breathing. Instead she ran, moving slowly with her burden and her injured arm. Even as she struggled to find a safe place, her mind tried to assimilate what had happened in the barn.
The woman in the woods was real—not a creature of Renata’s imagination, not one of Clay’s “women.” She was real, and she was completely insane. She was also the same woman who’d attacked Connor. She’d been in Oaklawn for months—years—slipping from room to room and hiding herself in the secret passageway. It had been her listening at the door of Connor’s bedroom. Scratching at the door. A wave of fear rolled over Connor. Renata almost slipped from her arms.
Panting and trembling with exhaustion and fear, Connor stopped beneath a dense bush at the edge of the woods. She crept as close as possible to the main trunk, drawing Renata in after her. The child was cool to the touch, dead feeling. That thought provoked a near sob. “Renata,” Connor whispered, “everything’s going to be okay.”
“Uncle Richard is dead, isn’t he?”
Connor dug her fingernails into her arms to keep from crying. She hadn’t expected Renata to respond, and certainly not so calmly. Renata’s blank acceptance of what she’d seen was terrifying. “Yes. He’s dead,” she finally answered.
“I knew not to go in the barn. I knew it would be terrible if I did. But I saw Mommy in the pecan orchard. I knew she’d come back one day. I followed her into the barn, but it was only you, dressed like her.”
“I know.” Connor pulled the girl to her and held her tightly. “I know. I’m so sorry. Was the woman in the barn the one you’ve been seeing in the woods?”
“That’s Hilla. She said she was leaving, but she’s still here. Why was she trying to hurt you?”
Renata’s voice was so calm, so wooden. Connor almost wished she’d scream and wail. “I don’t know. I think she must be very sick.”
“She killed Uncle Richard and she wants to kill both of us, doesn’t she?”
Renata’s questions brought Connor back to the immediate present with a snap. “I don’t know.” Connor held Renata tighter. “I don’t know what she wants, but I can promise you that I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”
“Will Daddy come to help us?”
“I don’t know.” Connor stopped talking. There was the sound of brittle twigs snapping to her right. “Hush now.”
“She’s here.” Renata whispered. “I know she’s here.”
The knife swung into the bush, missing Renata’s leg by only a hair. Connor grabbed the little girl and threw her over to her left. “Run, Renata! Run to the house and get Willene!”
But Renata didn’t move. Connor crawled over her and dragged her out of the hiding place. Half dragging, half carrying, she ran toward the house. Looking back over her shoulder once, Connor saw the woman coming after them. She walked forward at a brisk pace, but she wasn’t running like Connor. She was coming after them exactly as if she knew that they had no prayer of escape.
Connor’s injured arm gave one last warning that it had been overtaxed. She’d been steadily losing blood, and she was tiring fast. Too fast. She’d never get away form Hilla. Grabbing Renata’s shoulder, Connor pushed her forward. “You have to run, Renata. She may try to kill both of us.”
“You run!” Renata clung to Connor’s hand. She pulled her forward. “Don’t stop now, Connor. Look!” She pointed to the back porch. A light was swinging back and forth, searching the night. “It’s Willene! She’ll help us. Willene!” Renata cried the name. “Willene!”
“Help us,” Connor called out weakly, finding an extra spurt of strength to keep running the last hundred yards to the porch. Thank God for Willene.
“She’s in the orchard.” Renata’s voice was unsteady. “Uncle Richard is dead. Help us.”
“Call the police, Willene. There’s a woman in the barn, she’s trying to kill us.” Connor panted out the words.
“Grandma?” The voice came out of the dark.
“Melanie, honey.” Willene’s voice was extra gentle. “I told you this wouldn’t do any good.”
Connor grabbed Renata and stopped her from going to Willene. The woman had called Willene “Grandma,” and Willene had called her “Melanie.” Was it possible …? Connor felt her knees threaten to give.
“Help us, Willene,” Renata wailed.
“
I can’t this time, Renata.” Willene’s voice was calm, resigned. “This time I won’t pick a Sumner over my own flesh and blood.”
The tone of Willene’s voice registered on Connor long before her words did. Pulling Renata flat against her leg, she sheltered the girl at her side. At any moment the woman would step out of the shadows with her knife.
“Where’s Clay?” she demanded of Willene.
Melanie answered instead. “He’s in his room. He’ll be of no help to you, and when he comes to, it will be over.”
Renata had frozen beside Connor. “Willene?” Her voice was a plea. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you mad at us?”
“I’m not mad, honey. I got over being mad a long time ago. I learned the hard way that the Sumners can treat folks any way they like. It’s been harder for Melanie to understand. It was a lesson I never wanted her to learn. But Clay taught her.
“Melanie? Melanie Banks?” Connor knew it was true. “My granddaughter.”
“But you never married. You never had a family.” There was a link here, and if she could only understand it, she might be able to stop what was going to happen. In the glow of Willene’s lamp she saw Melanie approach. She still held the knife in her hand, clasped like a dagger beside her head.
“I never married, but I had a child. A little girl. Her father was Clay’s grandfather. My little baby Elise. Elise Sumner, who would never have that last name. How she hated me because she was a bastard.” Willene shook her head and looked down at the floor, her attention drifting back to the past. “It wasn’t my fault. He said he loved me.”
“Grandma, get out of the way. I’m going to kill them now.” Melanie’s voice was determined, irritated. “You stand up there and moan about Mama, but she left me. She dumped me here to live like some shadow. I couldn’t even use my own name. I wasn’t good enough for the Sumner name, my mother’s name. You had to make up one so I could go to school.”
Willene’s voice was gentle. “It won’t do any good. I’ve told you this, Melanie. Let them go, baby.”
“No!”
Willene turned to Connor. “I can’t do anything with her anymore. When I first got her out of the hospital, she was easy. She sat and rocked in the chair by the fireplace. All day long she rocked. She didn’t even eat unless I told her to. Then she began to tear things up while I was gone. Dishes at first. Then chairs. Everything that ever meant anything to me. She destroyed it. Then she followed me here, to work. I know she killed Ms. Talla. She said she was going to kill you, but I thought I could frighten you away.”
Connor felt the skin on her neck ripple with fear. She turned to face Melanie Banks. “What have you done to Clay?”
Melanie smiled. “Grandma didn’t want me to hurt him. Even after everything he did. I didn’t hit him very hard. Just enough to make him bleed a bit.”
“Why?” Connor asked.
“I loved him. Even after he tried to lock me away forever in the mental institution, I still loved him. Then he married you.”
“It’s all she can think about,” Willene said. “After she fell, they said she was going to die. I stole her out of that place and brought her home. She was almost dead, and I didn’t think she’d ever be right, even if she did live. Once she started thinking again, Mr. Clay was all she thought about. She’d come over and hide in the woods and watch Ms. Talla. It didn’t seem so bad, at first. Then she got in the house and I couldn’t stop her at all after that.”
“Why didn’t you tell Clay?” Connor asked. She spoke to Willene, but she watched Melanie. The young woman’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Connor could see the muscle bulge. At any moment she was going to erupt.
“I lost Elise when she was fifteen. She ran away. I haven’t seen her since. I only heard from her once, a note in the baby carrier with little Melanie. All it said was the baby’s first name, and it was signed ‘Elise.’ She brought the baby to me. That’s why I couldn’t tell. I’d lost my own youngun, and I wasn’t going to lose Melanie after what they’d done to her. She’s suffered enough.”
“All you do is talk about the past.” Melanie hurled the words at Willene. Her jaw clenched again and again as she stared at Connor. “You’re just trying to keep me from killing her, Grandma. You like her better than me.” Melanie raised the knife. “She’s going to die.”
“Help me, Willene,” Connor pleaded. Blood loss had made her dizzy, and the pain from her arm knotted tighter.
“Lord, help me, I can’t.” Willene said. She took the lamp and turned away.
In the darkness Connor fell to her knees. Renata had stood at her side, struck dumb by the scene. She pushed the young girl away from her. “Run!” she urged her. “Run, Renata! Get help!”
Renata’s bare feet dug into the ground and she sprinted into the darkness.
Connor had no time to think before she felt Melanie’s hand in her hair. “She won’t get far. She’s afraid of the barn, and there’s no place for her to hide. I’ll kill you, and then the boy. He ate his sandwich like a good fella, and now he’s sound asleep. Once that’s done, I can take my time tracking the girl down.”
“Melanie, you can have Clay.” Connor tried to swallow, but Melanie had her neck pulled back so far she could barely draw breath.
“You should have left Oaklawn.” Melanie’s hand tightened.
“I’ll leave now. I swear.” Connor’s head was jerked back and she could feel the knife at her throat. “I’ll take Renata and Danny and leave. They’ll think Clay killed us and no one can find the bodies. You can have Clay and Oaklawn, just let the children go.”
“Shut up!” Melanie pulled Connor to her feet by her hair. She dragged her to the breaker box and inserted the clips she’d obviously taken from Richard. Oaklawn sprang into light.
Willene stood at the door. “Melanie, let them go, please. This won’t do any good.”
“Let’s go.” Melanie jerked Connor toward the house, pushing her past Willene, down the hall and into the master bedroom.
Connor stumbled into the room, catching her balance against the chest of drawers with her good hand. Already her vision was beginning to dim. She had to stop the flow of blood from her arm wound. She turned around slowly, looking for Melanie. Fully dressed but looking deathly pale, Clay was on the bed. His position was unnatural, as if he’d been dumped there. Blood trickled from his head, soaking the pillow and dripping into the sheets. Connor cried out, but Melanie stepped between them.
“Take a last look, then we’re going to the barn. You can hang beside Richard Brian, after you write the note telling Clay that you love Richard and want a divorce. It will look like he killed you both, then went crazy and killed his children. He’ll have nothing left, absolutely nothing. Then he’ll appreciate my love again.”
“Willene!” Connor appealed to the cook. She stood in the doorway, hands hanging limply at her side.
“She won’t listen to me, Connor. I’ve tried. The best I could do was dress her up like Hilla, and that didn’t work. Clay’s going to have to pay for what he did to her.”
“He didn’t know. Clay didn’t know she was your granddaughter. He didn’t know that she was pregnant. Willene, he thinks she’s in California going to college. He sends her money and he gets letters back.”
“Clay’s a Sumner, Connor. You could never understand that.”
“I said shut up.” Melanie grabbed Connor’s injured arm and twisted it. The pain drove Connor to her knees.
“Lord Jesus,” Willene cried out. “Melanie, don’t do this! Whatever they’ve done, don’t you do any more of this.”
Connor felt the knife at her throat. She closed her eyes, too weak and sick to offer much resistance. Melanie was going to kill her. Maybe Renata would escape. If she got help, Danny might also survive, too. And Clay? No one would believe that Clay would kill her or his own children.
“Get up. I don’t want to have to drag you to the barn.” Melanie lifted her to her feet. “Grandma, watch Clay. If he wakes up, hit him again.
If you don’t, I’ll kill him, too.”
Holding Connor with one hand Melanie stopped by the bed. “I’ll be back, Clay,” she whispered. “I’ll be back to finish what we started.”
Connor heard the glass shatter, but she never saw the human form that hurtled through the window at her. She felt the weight slam into her and she felt herself go flying backward into the wall. There was a scream of rage and fury, then a shot. Willene cried out and someone fell heavily to the floor.
Stunned, Connor slowly pushed the body off her. She stared at the lifesize image of a man made from feedsacks, clothes, and hay. She knew it was the hanging man she’d seen in the oak tree—Willene’s last effort to frighten her away from Oaklawn.
“Get back, Mrs. Welford.” Old Henry stepped through the shattered window. He was holding the pistol from the floorboard of Connor’s truck. It was pointed at Melanie, who lay motionless on the floor.
“My baby girl.” Willene stood in the doorway and moaned. “My beautiful little girl.” She made no effort to go to Melanie.
Connor got to her feet and stumbled to the bed. “Clay?” She checked his pulse. It was steady, solid. The blood had dried on his head.
“Are you okay?” Old Henry asked her.
“Yes.” Connor knelt down beside Melanie. She could see where the bullet had entered her chest. Blood was pooling beneath her. Melanie was dead.
“She’s dead,” Old Henry confirmed. “I never miss. If I hadn’t killed her clean, she’d have pulled that knife across Mr. Sumner’s throat sure enough, just the way she cut your horse’s leg.”
“Oh, my baby girl,” Willene cried, rocking back and forth in the doorway. “Her suffering is over at last.” In the distance there was the sound of several sirens.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Connor flexed her fingers. They were long and straight. The nerve damage from the cut was getting better every day. She leaned over the stall and looked at the dark bay filly that nuzzled under Cleo’s belly for her lunch. Mare and foal were in perfect health.
Deception Page 40
