Dreamscape

by Rose Anderson

  She explained how she hadn’t gotten home in time.

  Understanding her emotion, he explained how his father had been away with the war when his mother died in childbirth. “I watched my father’s regret last for a lifetime. Leave the regret, Lanie, there’s nothing to be done for it anyway.” He felt a brief stab, recalling how his mother had screamed for hours until she was too weak to continue. There was nothing he could have possibly done as a child. He knew that. But before his father marched off with his regimen he’d said, “You’re the man of the house while I’m gone, son. You take care of your mother.” Feeling the need to say more, he told her about his own regret.

  “That’s a heavy burden for a child to bear. I’m so sorry.”

  “That was a long time ago, Lanie. I only mentioned it because you’re correct, it is a heavy burden. One your father would never want you to carry. You know as well as I these things are often out of the physician’s hands. We do our best, but we’re not gods to perform miracles. There was no guarantee my father could have saved my mother’s life, and it is the same for you. No guarantees, only our best efforts.”

  She nodded. Glancing sideways, he saw her damp lashes and those lovely blue eyes brimming with tears. Feeling terrible that he had contributed to them, he stopped and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Handing it to her, he said, “There, there. Let’s talk of other things, shall we? Now tell me what it is that you came to discuss.”

  Lanie took the folded handkerchief gladly. The monogram JSB was stitched in flowing script on the white linen. “Thank you.” She dabbed under her eyes and, folding the wet corner inward, handed it back.

  Rightly guessing her pending refusal, he closed her fingers around it. They were so small in his. “Keep that.”

  She nodded and tucked it into her sleeve.

  They found a redheaded young man trimming the hedge with great shears. “Patrick, take a moment and go to the gazebo for Miss O’Keefe’s bags, if you will.”

  The young man smiled thinking the black-haired woman was very pretty. “Right away, Doctor.”

  She thanked the teenage boy with a smile of her own, and he stood there thunderstruck until Jason cleared his throat. Flushing from head to toe, the young man said, “Right away.” And he ran off.

  Jason led her through the foyer. Rushing forward, the housekeeper took her black bag and bonnet and set them on the hall tree.

  “Addy, please see to Miss O’Keefe’s comfort while I change for dinner.” To Lanie, Jason added, “I’ll see you shortly.” With that he climbed the stairs two at a time.

  “Yes, Doctor. Please come with me, miss, perhaps you’d like to wash up before dinner?”

  “Yes, I’d like that very much, thank you.”

  Addy took them from Patrick. “I’ll take those, Paddy. You’re tracking dirt inside with those shoes of yours.”

  He looked at his feet. “Oh, I’m dreadful sorry, Mrs. Fairfax. I’ll clean that up right away.” He went to his knee to sweep the hedge clippings and dirt into a small pile.

  Addy gave Lanie a smile. “We’ll get you settled in before dinner, Miss, just follow me. Two flights up, the housekeeper opened a door to a comfortable room and set the valise on the trunk at the foot of the bed. “I’ll return in a moment.” With that, the housekeeper closed the door behind her.

  Unbuttoning her cuffs, Lanie went to the opened window to stand in the rose-scented breeze. Sure enough, the room overlooked the garden.

  One floor below, Jason took a clean shirt from his étagère, marveling at the incredibly accurate detail of Lanie’s dream. An annoyed feminine voice came from the doorway. “You presume too much, Jason.”

  He turned to his wife and tucking in his shirttails, asked, “How’s that, Cathy?”

  “I told you we were having guests tonight, my cousin Bertha…”

  “And cousin Richard, how could I forget.” Jason knew the brother and sister Cathy referred to as her cousins were distantly related to his wife through the second marriage of her father. There wasn’t a drop of shared blood between them. He found it a struggle to keep calm. He clearly remembered this first meeting of his murderers.

  Cathy looked at him trying to find the right words. Born and raised in the south, it was Cathy’s opinion that Southern manners far surpassed the vulgar attitudes of the north regardless of the South’s defeat and subsequent thrust into poverty. Southerners would always be a class above. Her voice a harsh whisper, she said, “Well then, why did you invite that stranger to our table?”

  “Miss O’Keefe is the daughter of my father’s business partner. Her father passed away recently, and she needs to speak with me about my investments. Good manners prompted me to extend the dinner invitation, Cathy, that and wanting to know just how her father’s passing affects my interest in the textile factory.”

  “I wasn’t aware you also held interests in northern textile mills.”

  Anticipating it now, he didn’t miss the excited edge to her voice. “Not only did my father hold a major share in rebuilding Bertha’s father’s cotton mill, he invested in several northern mills as well. My father’s interests were diverse. As they now belong to me, I need to see to them when issues arise.” When he turned to face her, his voice was calmer than he felt inside. Still, he smiled. “I know you wouldn’t want me to lose money, would you, my dear?” He could see her mind working. No, of course you wouldn’t, you deceitful murdering bitch.

  “I see the wisdom in that, all I ask is you wrap up your business as quickly as possible and send her on her way. I’ve asked Bertha and Richard to spend the holiday and the week after with us.”

  “Oh?” He wracked his mind trying to recall on what holiday he’d met her accomplices. Yes, I remember. The town had a rather large Fourth of July celebration planned—a parade and picnic in the park. Thinking how much Lanie might enjoy that brought a smile to his heart, but his inner smile vanished when his wife spoke again.

  “Yes, well, they traveled all this way, and I miss Bertha so. It just made sense to prolong the visit.”

  And you miss dear Richard, too, we mustn’t forget that. “Yes, that does make sense. It will give you an opportunity to catch up with your old friends.” He turned to the cheval glass mirror and did his tie, his eyes on her as she wove her lies. It just made sense to prolong the visit.

  Her words spurred a memory. Yes, he remembered this conversation now. He remembered talking to her reflection in this mirror. Cathy had been angry that he’d received a telegram saying the daughter of a business associate would be in town. He had planned to invite the woman to dinner. The memory came flooding back. Cathy had insisted he make other arrangements in which to conduct his business. Seeking to make his new bride happy, he had acquiesced. Had he known then what he knew now…

  “Well, I hardly know Richard, of course, but Bertha has always spoken so highly of him.”

  “Oh, that’s right, I’d forgotten you barely know each other. I recall now you telling me Bertha’s brother ran in different circles than the two of you.”

  She hurried him off topic. “Yes, well anyway, please send your business acquaintance on her way as quickly as possible.”

  “I won’t be rude, my dear. How long she stays will depend upon what needs to be addressed. With her father gone, the woman may need guidance. That’s the least I can do for James O’Keefe.”

  “But Jason…” She crossed her arms, clearly piqued.

  “I won’t be swayed, Cathy. When we’ve concluded all the business we need to see to then I will send her on her way, but not until everything is said that needs to be said.”

  “Really I…”

  His eyebrow rose, and she stopped in midsentence. “And I’ll tell you now, if it becomes more efficient for her to stay through the entire length of your cousin’s holiday as well, then I shall extend the invitation for her to do so.”

  He’d never spoken to her this way before and could see a sharp retort forming on her lips. Instead, she said, “I hardl
y think that’s proper…”

  “I’ve said my last on this, Cathy. James O’Keefe was my father’s good friend. I’ll take our work into the study, and Addy will to see to her needs as they come. Her stay will not impact your time with your cousins.”

  She clamped her lips closed. This contrary Jason threw her off-kilter. It wasn’t like him not to accommodate her. She gave him her prettiest smile as she came to straighten his tie. She knew Jason thought her beautiful when she smiled.

  Jason saw the pretty transformation. There was a time when her smile would have wrapped him around her little finger. But no more. He was well-acquainted with the black-hearted bitch’s motives now.

  “There, that’s better,” she said, smoothing the silk under her hand, “All right, my darling, I’ll see you downstairs.” With that she left missing the tightening of her husband’s jaw.

  * * * *

  Lanie woke from a most interesting dream to the sound of hammering and scraping outside her window. The work on the front porch had started and here she was still in bed. Blindly reaching for the cell phone to check the time, she discovered she’d overslept by nearly two hours. She had a slight headache. “Ugh, it must have been that second glass of wine.” Though two moderate glasses spread over a five-hour evening with a heavy meal in between was hardly a bender, she never handled alcohol well.

  Throwing the sheets back, she flew out of bed to wash and get dressed, all the while running through the list of to-dos in her head. There was a final day of laundry to do, all those sheers and linens from the servant’s quarters. Then she’d tackle the runner on the stairs that was getting too dangerous. Sorting the cellar was on its third day, and if it was anything like the yesterday, she’d better have her medical kit handy. There was no time to review her two dreams. The first one, my oh my, she’d hadn’t ever had such an erotic dream in her life. Just thinking about it now had her feeling tingly and feverish all over. The second had such detail. She couldn’t help feeling the second dream was one she needed to pay particular attention to despite how her mind sought to return to the first and add a face to it.

  Both of those dreams would stay with her throughout the day because Jason would periodically enter her mind and remind her.

  Where he’d normally pop from room to room at will, Jason took his time slowly walking through his house to see the results of cleaning and repairs. Lanie had done a marvelous job. His home was warm and welcoming again and curiously quite similar to how it was when he’d been a young man fresh from medical school. The inside was almost as he remembered, save for the few modernizations through the years. She’d even removed all of the uglier pieces the Mason clan had added in the last century. They never did have style, the lot of them.

  He found it odd that she arranged furniture where he’d had it placed before he’d married Cathy. Were he to place Lanie next to his wife, whom he had once thought to be extremely beautiful, he couldn’t help but compare the two women. Where Cathy was honey blonde, Lanie was raven-haired. Where his wife had large brown eyes like a doe, Lanie’s eyes were indescribably blue and fringed with long dark lashes. Comparison after comparison, Lanie was more beautiful by far. What was more, Lanie had a genuine sweetness and quality of character while Cathy was like a beautiful succulent peach you bit into to only to discover the rotten core. That poisonous beauty possessed the soul of a murderer.

  He watched Lanie on the stairs. Kneeling with carpet nails held tight between pink lips, her slight hand wielding a hammer much too large for it, she was doing an admirable job tacking down the runner. This time he left her tools alone. At her sensual jiggling he was taken with an overwhelming desire to kneel behind her, to grasp her hips and sink his cock into the tight heat his fingers found so delightful the night before. Damn him, if he wasn’t hard again. He wanted to talk with her again person to person. So intent was he to return to her dreams, he periodically whispered to her mind as she worked and was just about to do so again when sound coming from the foyer doorway caught his attention. He turned to find a man standing there, tall, blond, and vaguely familiar. He didn’t like the way he tipped his head to the side and appraised Lanie on the stairs, nor did he like that feral glint or the tongue that licked his lips as though he savored some unknown taste. Recognition surged into him. This was Max, one of his repeat vandals who still broke an occasional window here late at night when the street was deserted. Jason’s eyes grew large as they flew to Lanie in recognition. He’d heard the little savages that day all those years before. “Get lost, Lanie, you bitch.” Lanie, his Lanie, was the little black-haired girl who’d tried to stop them from vandalizing his house and for her troubles got sorely abused. Remembering her childish vow at the gate his heart swelled. You did buy the house after all.

  Knocking on the doorframe, Max said, “Hello?”

  Lanie turned to the voice. Pulling the nails from her mouth, she set the hammer down. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  The man smiled. “You have quite a busy place here. I install gutters and driving by here today I was wondering if you’ve had your gutters checked recently.”

  “I just moved in actually. I hadn’t considered the gutters needed replacing or cleaning.” The thought distracted her. Was there more to do outside?

  “A lot of people don’t give the gutters a second thought, that is, until they get an ice jam up there and it damages the roof and ceiling.”

  Lanie frowned. She was so close to being done, the last thing she needed was damage of that sort. “Okay, then how about you look around and give me an estimate?”

  His smile widened. “Alrighty.” He pulled a small yellow pad from his back pocket. “Is there access to any of the smaller roofs from the inside?”

  “Yeah, there’s a narrow stairway off the kitchen that leads up to the old servant’s quarters. That will take you to the cupola...”

  “I noticed a room on the second floor. The window is open, the only one open as far as I could tell. The porch gutter is just below that. Any way I can go out that window to see what’s what?”

  Jason narrowed his eyes. He’s talking about our bedroom. The thought froze in his mind. When did his bedroom become their bedroom? He willed Lanie to remember this Max, this dangerous bully who’d kick and spit on a small girl. Chances were that type of character defect would last throughout a lifetime. Remember, Lanie.

  “How about I check the porch gutter first?”

  Lanie cautioned. “Yeah okay, follow me, but please be careful.” She pointed to the bunched runner. “Watch your step on the stairs, as you can see I’m still tacking the runner down.” When she was done with this guy she’d better refer to her list. She had the oddest feeling she was forgetting something important.

  The man looked up the long winding staircase and laughed. “Wow, that’s no small job!”

  “No kidding. I’ve been at it all morning and I’m only halfway up.” Pointing to another lumpy stair she said, “Watch your step here, too.”

  Jason immediately popped onto the second floor landing and what he saw from his new vantage point made him seethe inside. Max’s eyes were focused on Lanie’s derriere.

  Inside her bedroom, Lanie rushed to pick her dirty clothing and towels up off the end of the bed. She’d started to sort laundry earlier but got distracted by a phone call from Zack.

  The black thong fell unseen to the floor at her feet. Lanie stuck her head out the window. “Len, I’ve a guy here who’s checking the gutters.” She called to the man on the scaffold just outside.

  “Okay, Lanie, I’ll watch for him.”

  “Please be careful,” she told him.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’m a pro.”

  Just then a crash came from below. “Oh what now?” she said in exasperation. Things were just off today. “Please excuse me.” With that she ran down the stairs.

  Jason watched the man pick up the black panty and hold it to his nose. His fingers curled into fists as Max chuckled and stuffed the bit of cloth into h
is pocket. Several minutes later Max met Lanie on the stairs. “I’ll have to come back tomorrow, got a call from the office.” He patted his pocket in illustration.

  Jason clenched his jaw. No such call had come.

  “All right, Mr.…”

  “Cady. Max Cady, from WeatherAll Siding and Gutters,” he told her, making his way to the door. I’ll bet those panties smell half as good as the real thing. Behind his back Max laid a piece of tape over the lock to facilitate his return that night.

  Another crash came from below. Lanie said quickly, “Tomorrow then. I’m sorry, please let yourself out.” The sound of broken glass was heard. “Oh, what the heck is going on?”

  Max chuckled. “Not a problem.”

  Exasperated, Lanie hastily ran back to the cellar where crates, broken furniture, and decades of unused window panes made it next to impossible and extremely dangerous to maneuver down there. For the fourth time today she was distracted.”

  Max checked the tape covering the lock. “Not a problem at all.”

  Chapter 8

  Max looked both ways down the street. Rolling up his sleeve, he checked his watch under the roll of duct tape he wore like a bracelet. Showtime.

  It was quiet and deserted this hour of the morning. That made two a.m. his lucky hour. The black panties were in his pocket. He’d beat off twice in anticipation with them pressed to his nose. He wanted to last. She was certainly a pretty thing, much prettier than the last woman he’d met at two a.m. That one did have nice big tits though. His dick got hard remembering her squeals when he’d twisted her nipples. Still, in the end he took her like a dog. It didn’t matter what her face looked like. He’d rather not see their black eyes and bloody noses when he fucked them anyway. Stupid cunts.

  The porch step squeaked, and he froze, listening. No sound of her waking so he carefully opened the door. The tape had done its job perfectly. Taking the roll off his wrist, he slowly pulled a length long enough to bind her hands. This he stuck on his pant leg and then tore another, this would cover her eyes. Too bad he had to. She had pretty eyes.