The Body In The Basement ff-6

by Katherine Hall Page

  mean?

  The initial shock had passed and Pix was never one to sit meekly by.

  “Valerie, put that gun down before someone gets hurt. I have no idea what you're talking about and you're upsetting Samantha—and me " Pix grasped for an out. "Did you think she was an intruder?" It was pretty feeble and she quickly fol owed it with some soothing words in as warm a voice as she could manage, "And what's this nonsense about our not being friends? You know that's not true.”

  If Samantha was surprised at her mother's sudden gift for bold-faced lying, she didn't show it.

  “Now, Pix"—Valerie shook the gun like a chiding finger

  —"friends help friends, and you haven't helped me one little bit. I was al ready to settle down in my beautiful house for the rest of my life, but that's al spoiled. And you're to blame.

  Now, I have to think what to do.”

  Pix offered a suggestion. "Why don't we just forget that any of this happened and we'l go home."

  “I said I was thinking! Shush!”

  Samantha squeezed her mother's hand and Pix obeyed. She felt a sudden bleak stab of despair.

  The spiral staircase did not muffle footsteps. Pix listened with a lifting of her heart as the sounds continued, mounting quickly to the second floor. Jim threw open the door.

  “I don't have much time. I have to be back for my nature group after dinner.”

  So much for any hope of rescue. The Athertons were definitely a team.

  “Her mother just barged in. Came to pick her up. As I said on the phone, I saw her go into the closet on the monitor in your den. Somehow she had a key to the armoire." Valerie looked away from Jim, to Samantha.

  "And where did you get that key, young lady? How many other times have you been snooping around our things!”

  Samantha opened her mouth, but words did not come out. She thought she might be sick.

  “Answer me!"

  “In the woods. I found it in the woods out by the Fairchilds' new house," she whispered.

  “Mitch must have had it in his pocket and it dropped out when we were carrying him," Jim said meditatively. He might have been mul ing over the answer to a crossword-puzzle clue.

  Meanwhile, Pix was trying to piece it al together.

  Samantha must have stumbled across something incriminating in the closet, something no one was meant to see. Pix had heard that along with their gold faucets and bidets, the Athertons had a state-of-the-art surveil ance system. Yet it was the innocent caught by the guilty in this case.

  “Jim, Samantha merely came over to get her check.

  I'm sure she didn't mean to pry into anything, but you know how teenagers are." She was sure her daughter would forgive her. "There doesn't seem to be any harm done, so why don't we simply stop this. I'd like to go home."

  “And I wish I could let you go, but we can't." Jim sounded genuinely sorry. "You may not understand al that is happening now—I know you wouldn't lie to us; you're too good a friend—however you'l figure it out later and have to tel Earl. Then where wil Valerie and I be? No, I'm afraid it's too late.”

  There it was again. The friendship thing. Wel , friends didn't aim guns at friends in Pix's book. She couldn't think of anything to say and decided to keep quiet and concentrate on how she and her daughter were going to get away from these two lunatics. She was trying to replace al her fear with anger and it was working.

  “It doesn't matter if we make a mess in here, because we're going to have to leave the house in any case."

  Valerie was speaking matter-of-factly. "So, why don't we kil them both now and get rid of the bodies after dark?”

  “What!" Pix couldn't help herself.

  Jim seemed a bit taken aback also.

  “Honey, I'm not so sure. I mean, I've known Pix for simply ages, my whole life, in fact."

  “So what? You knew Mitch—and Buddy, for that matter.”

  Buddy? Bernard Cowley! They had kil ed him, too!

  “But not closely. I only met Buddy once or twice, remember, and of course he real y did drown, albeit with a bit of help from you. Pix is another matter. Our parents used to play bridge together."

  “Oh, wel then, that changes everything." Valerie spoke with heavy sarcasm. "Why don't we let them go, then?”

  Jim put his arm around his wife's shoulder in a gesture of affection. "Now, don't go getting al huffy, sweetcakes. I know we can't let them go, but I don't like the idea of having their deaths on my hands. We'l figure something out, don't you worry”

  Pix had the feeling she was watching a strange combination of Ozzie and Harriet and Bonnie and Clyde.

  “Look," he continued, "we'l tie them up and you can keep on eye on them. We can't go anywhere until after dark, anyway. And now I real y do have to get back. The kids wil be waiting. We're going to look at slides of seabirds.”

  The camp, Jim's beloved camp.

  “Jim," Pix asked, "how can you give up Maine Sail? It's been a part of your family al these years. You love it. It's in your blood. Do you want to say good-bye to it forever?" Pix thought if she talked like Jim, she'd have a better chance of getting through to him.

  He did indeed look downcast. "I know. There's always been the sad possibility we'd have to cut and run. That's why I got the new boat, biggest diesel engine Caterpil ar makes. I was going to enter the lobster-boat races next month." He nodded his head toward the cove, where it bobbed in the water not far from the sloop. "Maine Sail was the most important thing in my life until I met Valerie, and you're right, I wil miss it. But, Pix dear, there are other places and I'l have another camp. Of that, I'm sure. Don't you worry. Now, why don't you come with me? I think we'l have to separate you " This last was in a sterner, "caught talking after lights out" voice.

  Separation—it was what Pix was afraid of, Samantha, too.

  “Mom!"

  “No." Pix stood up and pul ed Samantha into her arms.

  "I'm not leaving my daughter's side." She hoped Jim's parents had been lucky at cards.

  He sighed. "Oh al right, you can stay together. Give me the gun, honey, and get some rope from the basement.

  Here's a thought. Maybe we should lock them in the wine cel ar? It would be quicker."

  “Yes, and why don't we give them some of the Baccarat so they can enjoy a glass or two." Valerie was stil bitter.

  “I doubt they would wish to imbibe now, Val. Besides, Samantha is underage. No, we best leave them here. They might break one of the bottles”

  Nuts, completely nuts. The words echoed in Pix's head as she waited for Valerie's return. When Jim had mentioned the wine cel ar, she'd had a thought. There was always the possibility that someone delivering something—

  the handyman at work, or maybe Gert Prescott coming to clean—would see the odd procession through the huge plate-glass windows, but they couldn't court even this slim chance.

  “Al right. That should do it.”

  Valerie dumped enough hemp to tie up the Queen Mary at her husband's feet and took the gun firmly in her own hand.

  “Good, good," Jim said as he started to wind the coils around Pix, finishing with what she knew must be very efficient knots. After al , the man taught the art.

  “Oh, by the way, my love, I almost forgot." He gave a sharp yank to tighten the rope around Pix's wrists. It dug painful y into her skin and she winced. "Sorry, Pix," he said, then continued to address his wife. "As I was saying, Samantha was very clever and got two campers to confess to some of the pranks that have been occurring. Apparently, they were angry at being here and wanted to get sent home or that's how it started anyway. It actual y is rather funny.

  They were responsible for the parade! Here we thought it was Duncan al this time.”

  Valerie did laugh. "That is one on us, but it helped to tarnish his reputation. I probably didn't need to paint those sails—the mice and maybe the bird would have been enough with the parade. I ruined a perfectly good pair of pants for nothing."

  “I do wish you had consult
ed me before that one." The change in Jim's voice was a grim reminder of the way he behaved when pushed to anger. "What if it hadn't come off?

  Those sails are custom-made for us."

  “If you had known, you wouldn't have been so convincing, sugar. Now I thought you were in a hurry."

  “What can I be thinking of?" He hastened to bind Samantha.

  The job done, complete with handkerchiefs over their mouths, he kissed his wife good-bye and ran down the stairs, but first he took Pix's car keys from her purse, apologizing. "We mustn't leave the car parked out front.

  Sorry.”

  Jim gone, Valerie had clearly had enough of the Mil ers' company and told them, "Now remember, my parents didn't play games with yours and I'm in no mood for any games with you. I can see everything that goes on in here, so don't try anything." She closed the door hard.

  Trussed up like the proverbial Thanksgiving bird, Pix thought this virtual y impossible, nor was she planning on giving any indication like rol ing over and futilely trying to cut the rope by rubbing it on the slick paint of the desk leg.

  Valerie alone was as dangerous as a wel ful of copperheads. Pix could hear her now: "Oops, sugar, the gun just kind of went off." Her wel manicured hands seemed able to support any number of deaths.

  At least she was lying close to Samantha. Now she inched stil nearer. Her daughter had tears in her eyes and Pix could almost smel the fear coming from her body.

  Every maternal nerve ached to comfort Samantha. She clenched her teeth, unclenched, and miraculously the handkerchief loosened. She tried it again. And again. Soon she was able to talk.

  “Clench and unclench your jaw. I've been able to loosen the gag," she whispered.

  Samantha went through similar contortions and after a while was able to whisper back, "What are we going to do?

  Are we going to die?"

  “No. Don't even think of it." Pix wanted to distract Samantha. "Now tel me what happened? What's in the closet?"

  “Oh, Mom, there are stacks of those quilts. The ones with the blue X's— and more shelves ful of a lot of other antiques."

  “What kinds?"

  “Toys mostly—plastic Mickey Mouse figurines. Also some wooden carvings of animals. Oh, and one of a figure.

  It looked like John the Baptist or someone like that from the Bible.”

  Mickey Mouses. Pix could hear Earl's voice explaining just how they were faked. And the folk art, folk art similar to what was at Jil 's.

  Mitch and the Athertons' business partners in marketing fake antiques—deadly partners for Mitch. They had kil ed him and used one of the phony quilts to bury him in. She'd been right. The marks indicated which were real and which were copies. They'd gotten sloppy about removing them. And Samantha had opened the door.

  “But what did she mean about Duncan? And Mom, she kil ed her own husband!"

  “I know, darling, it's beyond belief. Poor Duncan. Al this time he's felt responsible, and real y his mother was just waiting for him to go to sleep so she could push Bernard overboard" Pix shuddered. It was getting cooler as the sun dropped steadily toward the horizon. Obviously, it hadn't been only Jim who couldn't stand the sight of Duncan.

  Valerie wanted him out of their lives, too, yet didn't want public opinion against them. Hence, Duncan the incorrigible. Duncan may have attacked Samantha, perhaps pushing her harder than he intended. Pix was ready to give him the benefit of the doubt, considering his parents. But the rest had been manufactured by them out of the boy's own unhappiness and depression. What a thing to do to a child!

  She wouldn't have to bother asking Jim why he did it, though. She thought of his wine cel ar, the boats, al the expensive video toys, this whole "Mil ion Dol ar Mansion."

  He may have been partly motivated by the love of a bad woman, but the real answer was the old tried and true "for the money." What he had inherited and what he made from the camp had evidently not been enough. The Athertons were al set to live the good life—until the Mil ers happened along.

  Pix looked around the room. Even if she could get free of her bonds, there was nothing even remotely resembling a weapon, unless you were up for a pil ow fight.

  They'd have to untie them enough to walk—that is if they were going to move them, and Pix was afraid they were. Left in the house, they might be found too soon and raise the alarm.

  “Mom, can you think of anything? What would Faith do?”

  Pix was stung. So far as she knew, Faith had never been bound and gagged. She'd probably do exactly what Pix was doing—try to keep her circulation going. She decided to ignore her daughter's remark.

  After a while, Samantha asked timidly, "What time do you think they'l come back?"

  “They said at dark. The sun set at eight-nineteen last night." Pix did know some things. She continued to parade her expertise. "I'd say they'l come back around nine.

  They're obviously planning to leave by boat and they'l want to get a good start. This is deep water, so they don't have to consider the tide."

  “Which gives us less than three hours."

  “I'm afraid so "

  “And no one to miss us. Arlene was leaving forEl sworth straight from work with Fred. They knew you wouldn't let me go. How about Granny?"

  “I spoke to her this afternoon, so she wouldn't expect to hear from me again. I asked her to come over tonight, but she said she was tired and wanted an early night."

  “If Daddy cal s, he'l think we went somewhere for dinner."

  “And I talked to Faith just before coming over. That's what kept me”

  Pix gasped, but Samantha quickly reassured her.

  "Even if you'd been on time, it would have been too late.

  She didn't have the check upstairs. The one thing that would have saved us was if the phone hadn't rung. Then 1

  wouldn't have done such a stupid thing and opened the closet door. She must have been talking to Jim."

  “Earl would have no reason to think it odd if we weren't home." Pix continued the litany with decreasing hope.

  “And there's no one else."

  “Only us.”

  Ten

  The Athertons came back at 9:30.

  When Valerie had first left the room, Pix had not been anxious for their return, but as dusk fel , her muscles and her nerves were crying out for some sort of change. And what that might be was something she had been speculating about for hours—silently. Samantha was calmer and had even dozed off at one point. Pix had felt drowsy herself, yet she dared not shut her eyes. She heard them before she saw them, rapid footsteps on the stairs.

  The door opened and with a flick, light flooded the room, blinding Pix temporarily with its abrupt brightness.

  She could see how frightened Samantha was now. Her eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, like a fawn teetering about on the road, caught in the beams of a car's headlights.

  “I stil say we should take the silver service," Valerie was whining.

  “We'l buy another. It's not that special and it weighs too much. We'l be lucky to make any speed at al with everything you've packed." He bent down and untied Pix's ankles. The pain was intense but bearable. She knew she could walk. The question was, could she run? He helped them to their feet and said, "Get going—slowly in front of us, and don't try anything. Any noise and I'l shoot you both”

  So much for Pix's plan to scream her head off the moment she was outside. They didn't know the gag was loose. With the way sound travels over water, the whole island would have been alerted. Only no one would be able to get there in time.

  She started to head for the spiral staircase.

  “No, the other way”

  They filed down the hal past doors to rooms whose decor Pix could merely imagine. She had no doubt that had Jim not been around, Valerie would pul the trigger in a moment just because she was having to leave her fabulous house. And given her treatment of husband number one, Jim ought to be looking around a great deal, Pix thought rueful y. Her hands were tied behind he
r back and she gave a little wave to Samantha. Jim didn't want to leave two bodies behind. Pix was convinced they would remain alive, she told herself fervently. The question was, where?

  They marched through the kitchen and out the back door. It was very dark. The moon had not risen yet and Pix stumbled on the stairs. If she broke a leg, would they shoot her?

  “Down to the dock," Jim ordered.

  As they left the house, lighted up like a Christmas tree to indicate occupancy, Pix wondered what they had done with her car. Another thought struck her. What had they done with Duncan? He was stil on the island as far as she knew.

  They reached the dock. Jim's Boston Whaler was pul ed up.

  “We're al going to take a little boat ride," he said.

  "Honey, you get in first." Pix was pretty sure he didn't mean either of them. Valerie slid by them awkwardly. She was struggling with a heavy canvas bag that she must have picked up on their way out. She was dressed for the voyage: heavy pants, jacket, and a kerchief tied over her hair. Pix gasped in surprise. Not at Valerie's outfit, but at what she was wearing on her feet—running shoes with twinkling red lights that flickered on and off as she got into the boat.

  It hadn't been Duncan at al .

  Why hadn't Pix tripped her, pushed her body straight over the side—this monstrous woman who had knocked Samantha to the ground, leaving her injured, with no more compunction than she would have felt swatting a mosquito?

  It was al Pix could do not to yel out every filthy name she had ever heard. But even if they didn't kil her, they would surely tighten the gag, and if she had sent Valerie sprawling into the sea, Pix herself might have fol owed her.

  No, there was absolutely nothing she could do.

  They got in the boat. If she had been in the mood, Pix would have been amused at the sight of a large wicker picnic basket—a few bottles of the bubbly and other assorted goodies for a midnight feast on the bounding main? Valerie set her bag next to it with a defiant look at her husband. The silver after al ?

  “We should be in Nova Scotia before dawn," Jim said with obvious pleasure, anticipating the trip. He was where he was happiest—on the water.