“It could’ve gone a lot worse and you know it,” Alexandra replied.
“He could’ve bankrupted us, sure, but what would the great John Quenby benefit from that? No, he wants us to split our earnings in exchange for keeping the IRS from knowing about our little project. Same blackmail stunt he’s been pulling for years.”
“Are we coming back here again, Father?” Lily asked from the backseat.
Ralph sighed. “I’m afraid so, dear.”
Lily smiled to herself.
For the next couple of years, Lily’s visits to Quenby grew more frequent. Maxwell would always have some new thing to show her, like the creepy cabins in the backyard or the old cotton gin. Lily would “ooh” and “awww” at those things, but as the years went on, her real interest was in Maxwell. At fifteen, he had grown tall and handsome. But, like his parents, circles formed beneath his dark eyes. Lily was glad to call him friend. She had very few guy friends at school and none as close as Maxwell. Even if he was a little odd, like the time when he proudly showed her the dead possum.
“That’s sad,” Lily said when she looked at the dead animal on the forest bed. “How did it die?”
“I don’t know,” Maxwell said with acute fascination. “It looks like someone smashed its head.”
One summer afternoon, while their parents discussed business over a game of pool, Maxwell took Lily’s hand and led her outside. His palms were clammy, and he could barely look her in the eyes.
“Is everything alright, Max?”
“I, um, want you to see something,” Maxwell explained. He stopped in front of The Lovers’ statue.
“I’ve seen this before,” Lily replied, unsure why Maxwell was acting so nervous. He let go of her hand.
“Yes, I know,” Maxwell said. His mouth dried. “Lily, I… we’ve known one another for so long--as friends, and I… well, I was hoping we could--”
“Max!” Alice called from the second-story balcony.
Maxwell’s eyes widened and the blood left his face. He turned to his mother.
“Your friend is here,” Alice Quenby proclaimed.
The back door opened and out walked sixteen-year-old Vincent Gregory. He moved with a sort of swagger and was dressed to match the year’s style. His shoulder-length brown hair was thick and heavy. His jaw was strong. Lily knew immediately that this was the type of boy that could have his pick the girls. He approached Maxwell and gave him a firm hug. “Good to see you, man.”
“You too,” Maxwell said with a downcast face.
He let go of Maxwell and smiled widely at Lily. “I didn’t know you hung out with such pretty girls, Max.”
Lily blushed and introduced herself.
Gregory turned back to Max. “I’m going swimming down at the Hole. Thought I’d give you a ride.”
“We should go,” Lily exclaimed. She playfully pulled at Maxwell’s sleeve. “It’ll be fun.”
Maxwell’s face had gone from pale to green. “I’m not feeling well.”
“Oh,” Lily said with disappointment.
Maxwell noticed. “Go ahead, Lily. Have fun.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Lily asked.
“Yeah--yes. Please. Don’t wait for me.” Max replied with a shaky grin.
Vincent looked at Lily in a way that made her blush. “I’ll show you to my car. It’s a Plymouth.”
Lily tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “Cool.”
“See you around, Max,” Gregory said.
Maxwell wished them a good day and with sunken shoulders, returned inside.
When Lily started dating Gregory, Maxwell didn’t act the same. Though he never refused to see her, Max was distant. He wouldn’t talk as often or show her anything new. That didn’t stop Lily from talking his ear off though. He sat on the edge of his bed and listened. Unlike Gregory, he didn’t shower Lily with advice. Maxwell waited patiently and asked questions.
“Oh, you are such a good friend, Max,” Lily said, hugging him.
Maxwell smiled sadly.
A year later, Ralph Copperdoe’s business bombed thanks to Mr. Quenby, and Lily stopped seeing Maxwell. At the age of twenty, Gregory proposed to Lily. He was halfway through college and planning on attending med school after. Lily’s parents forbade her from letting any Quenby at the wedding. Three months later, she learned that Jonathan and Alice Quenby were killed in a fatal car crash during a similar time. The brake lines were nearly cut through and snapped the rest of the way when they were speeding down a back road. The police had no suspects. Maxwell inherited the Quenby estate.
It was a stormy winter night. Adders was too far south to get snow, but that didn’t stop icy slush from smacking the windows and disrupting the roads. Gregory walked inside. His hair was soaked and his nose was red. Lily grabbed a towel and rushed to him. He took it forcefully and dried off his hair.
“You okay, Vincent?” Lily asked with concern.
“I heard you saw Max today,” Gregory said.
“I did,” Lily admitted, taken back by Gregory’s tone. “After what happened with his folks, I didn’t want him to be alone.”
“Ah,” Gregory said.
“What’s wrong?”
“Last week you saw Jackson and now you’re seeing Maxwell. There’s just a lot of men in your life, that’s all.” Gregory said, taking off his tie and avoiding eye contact.
Lily felt a flush of anger rising inside. “First of all, I met with Jackson to discuss seeing my artwork. Secondly, I’m not nagging you about all the girls you talk to.”
“That’s different,” Gregory said, setting his rolled-up tie on the small sideboard Lily’s mother had given them. The house they lived in was much bigger than they needed it to be, thanks to Gregory’s parents, but most of their items were given to them by both their parents.
“Well why are you so mad all of sudden?” Lily asked. “Nothing happened with Max and I. Nothing will ever happen.”
Gregory stomped to her. “That’s not the point. I don’t want you seeing anymore men.”
Lily noticed that his eyes were bloodshot. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, and I’m sick of your backtalk.”
“Sick of my--what are you talking about?”
Gregory grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt. She felt her stomach drop and fear grip her. “I work all day and come home to hear you’ve been out and about with a half-dozen men. I’m really not asking for too much. Just that you’re faithful.”
“You’re hurting me,” Lily said, her fear turning to anger.
“Are you going to obey me?”
“No, Vincent,” Lily defied him. “I’m your wife, not your house slave.”
The next thing Lily knew was that she was on the floor. Her left cheek was on fire and her eyes were watering. Vincent’s hand was still raised from the slap he gave her. In his eyes was a hate she’d only seen hints of before. “You are my wife now. You’re going to be held to a higher standard.”
Saying no more, he marched into the bedroom.
Lily stayed on the floor, rubbing her cheek. He’s a good man, she reminded herself. He’s only stressed out. It’s only one slap.
In the coming months, Lily learned quickly it wasn’t just one slap. She would forget to wash the dishes, Gregory would slap her. She didn’t fold his shirts properly, Gregory would slap her. She talked to someone he didn’t approve of… the list went on.
Gregory’s mood swings occurred constantly. When they were out with friends, he’d shower her with compliments, play footsie with her, and kiss her in a way that made her forget about the strife. The moment he closed the door for the night, the kind smile quickly fell away. He berated her for the condition of the house and complained that she wasn’t working. Every time Gregory hit her, he struck harder. Slaps became punches. Lily felt like a prisoner in her home. When she walked outside, she felt like she was suffocating, knowing what would happen if she left the house without Gregory’s permission.
One night, when t
hey were having dinner at her parents’ house, Lily called aside her father and asked him what he thought of the soon-to-be-doctor Vincent Gregory.
“He’s a keeper, Lily,” Ralph said. “I hurt you and your mother with my business practices, but Gregory is beholden to no man. He will go far in life.”
Lily opened her mouth to tell him about how he called her names and hit her, but found she couldn’t find any words. Perhaps it was out of fear of what Gregory would do when he found out. Or it was because, somehow, deep down, she still loved him.
Lily went home that night holding on to her secret.
As Gregory undressed by the bed, he said. “I like your parents. They’re good company.”
“Thank you,” Lily replied with uncertainty. She couldn’t say when it started, but she had become cautious of every word she said. Not just to Gregory, but to everyone.
“I should thank you,” Gregory said.
Lily got an eyeful of his abs and muscles.
“Why?” Lily asked sheepishly.
“You did everything right tonight,” Gregory said with the smile that used to make her blush. Now, it made her shiver.
He grabbed her hips. “I think we’re finally ready to have children.”
Fear twisted Lily’s heart. “No. I don’t think…”
“It’s a great idea,” Gregory said, completely ignoring her. “You’ll finally have something to occupy your time. After my long classes, I’ll be able to tuck the kid in. It’s the perfect picture.”
“Vincent, please. I can’t.” If I have this kid, then there’s no escape.
Gregory brushed his thumb over her lips. “Of course you can. You’re strong and beautiful. You’ll make a great mother.”
Don’t believe his lies, one voice told Lily, but her heart fluttered when he complimented her for the first time in years.
“I love you,” Vincent said into her ear.
“I love you, too.” Did she? Lily didn’t know if the response was out of fear or genuine affection.
“You so are perfect now.” Vincent whispered. “We’re going to be happy.” He put his hand on her belly. “This child will be the joy this relationship needs. No more discipline, Lily. You don’t need it anymore.”
Lily could feel her rationalization fall away as her husband’s words felt like life to her soul. Run, you stupid girl! a voice told Lily. She shut it up and made love with her husband while holding on to the smallest ember keeping the relationship alive.
Lily awoke in the dead of night and slowly crept out of bed. She got dressed and bundled up her clothes. Without saying goodbye, she left her house behind and drove to the only safe place she could think of.
Chewing her lip nervously, Lily hammered her fist on the mansion's front door. “Please open up,” She mumbled. Minutes passed. She knocked again. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t stay out here all night. She’d need to get to home.
The door opened. Black hair disheveled and eyes tired, Maxwell stood in the threshold. He was in his pajamas and had a shaggy black beard.
“Can I come in?” Lily asked.
“You’re always welcome here.” Maxwell allowed her to enter.
In the dining room with a single light on, he poured Lily and himself cups of coffee. Though it was not particularly cold inside, Lily’s teeth chattered.
With a look of concern, Maxwell waited for her to speak.
“I feel so lost, Max,” Lily admitted since the first time she’d gotten married. “It’s like I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“You’re you,” Maxwell put his hand on her own. Lily quickly pulled it away.
Lily clenched the hand he touched and stood up. “I’m sorry. Coming here was a mistake.”
“Don’t go,” Maxwell said. His eyes looked so tired. “Please.”
She glanced at the clock. It was four a.m. Vincent would be up in two and a half hours. Lily sat back down and took a sip from her steaming mug.
“Lily, what you ever tell me won’t leave these walls, I promise you.”
“It’s Vincent, he…” Tell him, you idiot. No words came. She forced herself to stand and started lifting up her shirt.
Maxwell cast his eyes away. “Lily, I…”
“Look,” Lily’s voice wavered.
“No. This--it’s not right.”
“Max,” Lily pleaded.
Hesitant, Maxwell cautiously glanced up at Lily. She held her shirt up just below her breasts. Misshapen purple bruises painted her flat belly. Maxwell’s eyes watered and he covered his mouth with his hand.
Lily put back down her shirt. “Do you understand?”
Mouth still covered, he nodded.
“What should I do?” Lily felt her legs go weak. “I can’t keep living like this.”
Maxwell thought for a long moment. Lily thought he would say to call the cops. That would be the most rational thing to do. Instead, Maxwell said, “Stay with me.”
“He’ll be furious,” Lily said fearfully.
“He’ll never know.”
But somehow he did, and two days later his car screeched to a stop in front of the mansion. Face blood red, handsome Vincent Gregory slammed the car door and started his march to the house entrance.
“That’s far enough,” Maxwell said from the second-story balcony. She could hear him from the guest bedroom and walked to the window to get a better look. Seeing Gregory sent chills down her spine. Vacation was over. Time to go home.
Gregory glared up at Maxwell. “Where the hell is my wife?”
The night Lily arrived, Maxwell parked her car behind the cotton store house far away from the mansion.
“She’s not here,” Maxwell said.
“You’re lying, Max. If she wasn’t, you’d welcome me with open arms.”
That was when Maxwell pulled out the shotgun. “Go home, Vincent.”
Gregory clenched both of his fists. “You going to shoot me for the woman that chose me over you? Give me a break, Max. Let me have her.”
Maxwell cocked the shotgun and aimed it at him.
“Get off my property or I will kill you,” Maxwell said with a scarily calm voice.
Gregory shook with rage. He opened his hands and turned back to his car. Without another word, he turned the ignition and screamed down the road.
Maxwell lowered the gun. He watched the red brick to make sure Gregory wasn’t coming back and then returned inside. Lily met him on the interior balcony of the foyer.
He flipped the safety and rested the weapon on his shoulder.
“You didn’t mean that, right?” Lily asked.
“I did,” Maxwell replied. He brushed past her and put away the weapon.
Lily felt anxious over the next couple of days. She watched the red brick road, expecting Gregory to show up and take her back. He didn’t.
A month passed. No sign of him.
Maxwell knocked on her door. She fixed her hair and opened it. Maxwell’s face was stern. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Nervous, Lily followed him down the steps and through the hall of portraits. Did Gregory show up when I wasn’t looking? Did Maxwell kill him? They turned into the kitchen. A tiny vanilla cake with a single lit candle sat on the kitchen island. The cake wasn’t as big or as beautiful as the ones Gregory had bought her, but somehow that made it more appetizing.
“Tada,” Maxwell said with a little grin.
“I don’t know what to say,” Lily replied.
“Make a wish before wax gets on the icing I spent all morning making.”
I wish I had a different life. Lily blew out the candle.
Maxwell cut her a piece and watched her eat.
“Aren’t you going to have some?” Lily said as she lifted the fork to her lips.
“This is your treat,” Maxwell replied.
“I want to share with you.”
“Alright, but know that I have a voracious appetite. There may not be much left when I’m done,” Maxwell warned.
&nb
sp; They traded smiles.
Maxwell served himself.
When they had finished, Maxwell said, “There’s something else.”
He led her out back to the statue of the two lovers. The chiseled man without a nose looked into the eyes of the stone maiden with a cracked face. “Remember this?”
“I do,” Lily replied, reminded of her childhood when she was happy and actually looked forward to waking up in the morning. It seemed so long ago Lily forgot that time even existed. Until now.
“Here,” Maxwell produced a gift box a little bigger than his palm.
“You’re so sweet,” Lily replied. “But you’ve done so much already.”
“Open it,” Maxwell said.
Feeling guilty, Lily pulled the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a fat toad made of plastic.
“I tried catching a real one,” Maxwell said. “It didn’t work out.”
Lily chuckled. She took out the toad and put it on the stone slab between the lovers’ feet.
Maxwell looked at his toes. “Lily. I brought you here when we were fifteen, remember?”
“Yeah,” It was the day I met Vincent.
“Do you know why?” Maxwell asked.
Lily took his hand and looked him in the eyes. “Because you wanted to kiss me.”
Maxwell seemed shocked at first, and then his expression softened. “May I?”
Lily nodded.
Maxwell leaned in and planted a small kiss on her lips. He pulled away when Lily leaned in for another. Rain fell on them.
“I love you,” Maxwell said, the downpour lapping against his face. “For so long, I’ve wanted to tell you.”
Lily forgot all about her marriage to Gregory and the abuse she endured. All that mattered now was the moment.
Locked at the lips, they rushed inside and up the stairs.
Sheets of rain battered the old mansion.
It wasn’t long before Lily learned she was pregnant.
“We’ll make this work,” Maxwell said to her, his leg slung over the side of the bed. Lying on her side, Lily pulled her pillow close to her, wishing the canopied king-sized bed would just eat her up.
“You don’t get it,” Lily said. “Vincent, he’ll…”
“Let me worry about Vincent,” Maxwell said.
“Do you even want this?” Lily asked, rolling to her side so she could face him. “I mean, we’re both so young.”
The Haunting of Quenby Mansion Omnibus: A Haunted House Mystery Page 28
