Cass said, “Set it up if you can do it without letting him know about this conversation. I don't want him coming in already knowing we've discussed it."
"I can tell him—what? That you are interested, but you insist on speaking to him personally? How about that?"
Kate drew a deep breath. First, Leah haunting her every thought, day and night. Then Huey turning up in an even worse scenario than she'd imagined possible. Now this. Someone was trying to take her home! If the state didn't get it before he did, whoever he was would reap the profit! Her heart hardened. “Set him up. Let's do it."
Cass nodded. “I'm right behind you. Do it."
When Spence had left, Cass reached for Kate's hand. “If Spence is right, we have him, honey. It's all over. You can relax. It's over."
Kate's courage flattened somewhat. If only it was over. She turned bleak eyes on him. “Not quite. He isn't impersonating Leah. The phone calls and black car, maybe. But not Leah. She isn't something he could manipulate. And the date on the tombstone ... I know it's only a dream, but Cass...” She leaned into his hard strength and his arms went around her.
"That date is today, and the day isn't over."
Sixteen
Spider
A very fragrant spider orchid with tall wand-like stems. Bears long, spiky tentacles, or fringe, on each pale yellow blossom. Brasia Gireoudiana.
There were no trees on the levee, and as they approached the top of the man-made dam the air was stifling hot. The clouds hung black and menacing overhead and an odd-colored light shimmered in waves through the daylight. A shiver ran up Kate's spine.
Cass put an arm around her, matching his step to hers. “You okay?"
"There's a funny feel,” she said, rubbing her arms. “Hot and yet chilly at the same time. Tornado weather. If that sky turns green, we're heading for the basement."
"Agreed. More weather warnings are up. I checked before we left the house. By midnight another front will be on top of us. All the moisture from the gulf is coming up from the south, and we're going to get dumped on again."
"Midnight? I need to make sure I have enough oil for the lamps in case we lose power. Bread and milk. Other than that I think we're okay."
Cass extended a hand to Kate, to help her over the rocks. Idly, he said, “Wonder where Leah was last night when Huey was throwing his weight around?"
"I've wondered that myself. She wasn't where she was needed, was she?"
Cass smiled. “Can't you see old Huey if she'd done one of her numbers then? He'd have freaked for sure."
They climbed in silence for a few minutes and then in a soft voice Kate said, “I wish you could have seen her dance. She simply sparkled on stage. Long, slender legs in white tights and pink satin toe shoes, graceful beyond belief en pointe. She was something special."
"If you say so. I have trouble seeing her in any way except scaring you half to death and making your life miserable. She had a reputation, even in high school, for being mercurial. She seemed to change character along with clothes."
"M-m-m. Sometimes, I guess. But she was unforgettable. And she cared, passionately, about causes. Anything that interested her, or any injustice, she dug into like a lioness protecting her cubs."
"I've been doing some digging myself,” Cass said, as they approached the top of the levee. “The Internet turned up a guy named Edgar Cayce who was supposedly a Christian psychic. He died back in 1945 or he could maybe have had something to say about Leah. If I'd had the time, I'd have tried to find some of his writings. I may yet. We might learn something."
"It's worth pursuing, at least. Ah, here we are."
They breasted the crest of the levee and Kate caught her breath at the expanse of wickedly churning, fast-rolling, brown river.
She gasped. “I've never seen it like this. Cass, it must be a mile across! How could it have risen so fast? How far below flood level is it?"
"Only about a foot, but they've had even more rainfall upstate than we have."
"Thank God for the levee!"
Cass put his hands on his hips and stood, feet apart, braced as if for a fight. “Kate, look at that river and tell me you feel safe here. I will not leave you in this house tonight."
Her senses were numbed by the ferocity of the river. The water hadn't been quite so daunting from the bridge she'd passed over in the car the day before. Now, as she stood at the edge of the river, uprooted trees, their branches and roots reaching up from the watery depths were carried by. A bloated, dead pig was caught in a swirling eddy, almost at their feet. A Rose of Sharon bush, blossoms still clinging to the limber wands, swept by. The river was almost clogged with flotsam of all kinds. Just the power of the rushing river, if nothing else, was frightening.
What Cass said made sense. A part of her wanted to agree with him. But a surge—of what? Apprehension? Reluctance? Something, swept through her. Not fear of the river; but a feeling that leaving would be a form of desertion. Disaster would come in its wake. She said, “I can't leave the house. What if—"
"My point exactly. What if."
"But the levee is sound. And surely it isn't going to rain six inches tonight."
"What if it does?” He made a rude sound and spun her around to face him. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? What is it that matters more than your life? And Max's?"
Their eyes locked. “Nothing. But I just can't leave the—the house and let something happen."
Cass's voice escalated in disbelief. “Do you think you're going to personally hold back the river if it comes to that?"
"I ... I don't know. But just to abandon her—."
"Her? Who? The house? Kate, this is madness!"
She had no answer, but stood looking into his eyes pleading for understanding. What he asked was impossible. It was unclear, even to her, who or what she'd been referring to, but the fact was she simply could not leave.
Also, lodged in a back corner of her mind was a frightening fact. “Today is the date on the tombstone."
"But Kate, that's all the more reason to leave. Get out of here now!"
"I'm safe here. I know it sounds weird, but I feel that as long as I stay here, I'm okay."
A sudden gust of wind flattened her slacks against her legs and tugged at her hair. Looking up, they saw the sky had turned a dull pewter gray, active with rushing, rolling clouds. Churning whitecaps swarmed over the face of the lake.
"Oh hell!” He turned away and then swiveled back to face her. “I can't let you stay. I can't let you stay.” He poked his chest with a thumb. “I love you, woman, and you're asking me to approve something that could mean your life. What do you think I'm made of? Look at that sky. Look at the river! Think of that idiotic dream.” An arm swung out toward the river, then swooped upward to the lowering clouds. Then both hands gripped her shoulders hard enough to bring pain. “We're looking at possible disaster here. Let me take care of you, Kate. I need to do this!"
She brought three fingers to her mouth and fought back threatening tears. He'd never told he loved her. Never had his eyes held so much anguish. The struggle was plainly written on his face. A sob seemed lodged in her chest. She didn't want to put him through this. She wanted to give him what he needed to relieve his stress. But there was an inner block that refused to let her go. The same feeling she'd had many times over the years she and Leah had been growing up. Leah needed her. There was a deep certainty that her twin, a part of herself, needed her. She was filled with a sense of desperation.
The feeling was so outrageous as to be condemned insane. With Leah having been gone—dead—for ten years, her conviction was inexplicable. Never the less, it was there, and with it came the echo, “Careful, Katey. Careful, Katey-did."
The words were born on the air, floating from far away. The house? Kate turned in a circle to look back, but of course there was nothing to see. Never the less, somehow, Leah was there. Kate knew.
Cass made an inarticulate sound. Then, “You're supposed to say something he
re, Kate, and not let me dangle."
Kate couldn't speak past the ache in her throat. She nodded, then shook her head, and tried to put her feeling into her eyes. It would be unfair to tell him she loved him when Leah still hung around her neck like the proverbial albatross. When there were so many questions unanswered. None of it was of his making.
But Cass was everything she'd ever hoped for in a husband and, after Huey, never thought to find. How had she ever even considered settling for someone less than her dream? And now here he was, declaring his love and offering her the world and she was caught in a spider web of horrors, and unable to give herself to him.
Her breath wedged somewhere in her throat when he ran a slow finger down her cheek. The ghost of a smile curled the corners of his mouth. “You smell good. And you look good, even when you're exhausted and worried and being stubborn as a goddam mule."
Her throat clogged up again. “Oh Cass ... I can't say what you want me to say. Not now. Not yet."
His grip on her arms tightened and he tipped his head back to look at the bleak gray of the sky. “Then come home with me. Let me take you home."
"Please understand. I might as well hire a town crier to spread the news. ‘Kate Foster is sleeping with Cass Reynolds'."
"Unfortunately, that wouldn't be true."
"Try to get anyone to believe that. This is a small town. It would be making the rounds over breakfast tables before we were even awake. Served up with the Danishes and coffee at Ruby June's."
Cass dropped his hands to his sides. “So what? This isn't the fifties!” His mouth narrowed. “Okay. Okay. We have until midnight at the earliest before the storm hits. Let's go get Max. I have to run to Springfield in the truck and pick up a door for the new house. The wrong one was delivered today and the guys are already waiting for it. I want you to come with me. I couldn't concentrate on driving if I left you here alone. Will you and Max come? We can stop for something to eat and still be back by dark. I'll give you until then to make up your mind about staying here tonight. But I'm warning you. If you stay here, I'm staying with you if I have to sleep in the car."
Kate managed a watery smile. “Sure. I'd like that.” She could give him that, at least. A trip to Springfield. And maybe she'd even let him stay. Sleep on her sofa. Although she didn't know how she would explain the presence of his car in the drive in the morning. Still, she did live on the edge of town, and not like Cass whose home was right in the center and more likely for people to notice a strange car parked in front of his house. Tomorrow was time enough to worry about that. Tonight she'd be grateful for the company. She'd taken care of herself and Max for a long time now, and it would be heavenly to lean. To let someone else help. He was so worried about her, and she appreciated being worried over, but she couldn't leave. Not yet. Not as long as the levee held.
Not as long as Leah needed her.
* * * *
The phone was ringing as they entered the house intending to go straight through and out the front door. Her heartbeat tripped. Another anonymous caller? “Would you get that?” Kate asked, striving for a nonchalant tone. “I'll get my purse."
Cass changed his aim and headed toward the kitchen wall phone.
Kate went down the hall to the newel post and slipped the strap of her bag over the top and took out her hairbrush. As always her eyes avoided the mirror. Yet, she needed to know if Leah was, indeed, still here. Hesitantly, heart fluttering nervously, not sure she wanted to do this but feeling compelled anyway, she looked into the mirror.
Nothing. Nothing but her own reflection, her hair a little wild from the wind and coming loose from its anchor at her nape, her eyes dark and almost as wild as her hair. Tired, she leaned back against the wall opposite the mirror. Had it really been Leah speaking to her on the levee? Really Leah? Would she ever know? There was no end to the horror, the mystery. No end at all! She would be baying at the moon and babbling nursery rhymes if the tension didn't abate soon.
She pushed away from the supporting wall, wearily, and dragged the brush through her hair as Cass came through the door. “Slight detour. That was Spence. He's got the guy coming to the office in a quarter hour, and asked that we meet him there. What do you think? We could handle this before we get Max, and then head for Springfield. Okay with you?"
There was an enormous sense of relief. Of flowing adrenaline. Her exhaustion was gone. They were going to do something. Take action. No more would she be a victim. She would be the aggressor for a change. They'd settle this guy's hash finally. This part at least would be over.
"Yes! Absolutely!” She all but ran out the front door and down the steps.
Kate felt like Max, so excited she wanted to bounce on the seat. They couldn't get there fast enough. It seemed to her that they crawled down the streets. They'd confront this guy and make him understand that there was no way he'd cheat her out of what was hers. Problem solved.
Riding with Cass, heading toward a confrontation she both embraced and feared, she was only peripherally aware of the town. Somehow the beloved and lovely village seemed unreal in the face of her personal crisis. Yet, on the bank corner, a large clock still chimed the hour as it had ever since Kate could remember. The chimes rang out as they pulled to a stop.
None of it seemed real. The air seemed more sluggish and thick with moisture than ever. The people walking the streets were nobody she knew. Reality was the unknown man waiting in Spence's office.
Spence met them at the door. He lowered his voice. “Back here. He's waiting. I warn you, he's an oily old guy. I've just met him for the first time, face to face, and realized he's not who he pretends to be. Watch your step."
A man, pushing past middle age, sat with his back to the door, broad muscular shoulders wearing a blue and white seersucker summer suit. Spence walked behind his desk and indicated chairs for Cass and Kate.
"Kate Foster and Cass Reynolds, I'd like you to meet Robert Blandings. Mr. Blandings, this is the lady who owns the property in question, and her friend."
He turned to face them. Hair. Lots of black, thick, longer-than-fashionable hair. Full beard and moustache, hearty, ruddy complexion as if he spent time in the sun, and searching hazel eyes that within a heartbeat made Kate acutely uncomfortable. He rose from his seat, shook hands, and sat back to wait. Although he nodded and looked friendly enough, he did not speak.
She'd seen him before! Kate's thoughts stalled. Where? He was familiar. And then she knew. The ball field. He was the older man at Max's games who seemed to be watching her.
Spence cleared his throat. “Kate, Mr. Blandings has offered—offered several times—a considerable price for the property you now occupy and own. I've brought you his offers and, so far, you have refused them. You indicated today that you wanted to talk personally to the prospective buyer and so I've brought us all together."
Spence's hands moved nervously over the papers on his desk and the look he directed at Kate was strangely penetrating. She frowned.
"What's he doing here?” The question was as abrupt and rude as the voice was sharp. Mr. Blandings eyed Cass.
Before Cass could answer Kate said, “He's here at my request. I invited him. He's my ... my advisor."
"What do we need an advisor for?” he demanded harshly. No charm here. He was aggressive and—the word predatory came to mind. “I'm offering a prime price for the property. Straightforward deal. What's to advise about?"
"Mr. Blandings, I question why you persist in trying to purchase my home when I've indicated again and again that I wasn't interested in selling."
He crossed his hands over an expansive belly. His attitude changed, became conciliatory. “I have admired that house since I was very young. Never lived here, only driven through town from time to time, mind you, but the house appeals to me.” A speculative gleam shone from his eyes. “It's on the National Historical Register, and I want to acquire it. Maintain it the way it should be maintained. Respect the antiquity, the past, as it were. I can afford to indul
ge myself."
"But it's the house in which I grew up. It has considerable sentimental value, and it's also my home now that my parents are gone. Mr. Blandings, I am not interested in selling."
"Come now. Everything has its price, little lady.” The false charm was laid on as thick as Max spread peanut butter on his bread. “Just name yours, and you have it. Anything within reason, that is."
A crafty, cunning expression settled around his mouth. “It would mean something, surely, to know the house was loved and cared for with no expense spared. It would never begin to look seedy for need of a coat of paint. Never have stains on the ceilings for want of a new roof. Never have weeds growing in your mother's rose and lily gardens. You'd rest easy knowing that, wouldn't you?"
Kate frowned. “How do you know about my mother's rose and lily gardens?"
A flicker of unease showed in his eyes and was gone. “I make it my business to check out every aspect of an acquired purchase."
He sounded sincere, but there was that mouth which Kate didn't trust for a minute. She fixed her gaze on his, trying to read the thoughts that lay behind his words. The silence grew longer. His stare grew more intense. His eyes narrowed. Beside her Cass moved his hand next to her elbow on the arm of the chair as if offering support. Spence sat quietly, only his eyes moving from one of them to the other.
Finally, Kate said, “What would you say if I told you that I have information that a major highway will be coming through this area one day and the state will be buying up all properties in its path? What will that bit of knowledge do to your offer, Mr. Blandings?"
A twitch appeared at the corner of one eye. His face flushed. “What do you know about that?"
Kate smiled sadly. Sincere? In a pig's eye. It was all or nothing, she thought. She would bluff her way through, hopefully without betraying Spence.
"Mr. Blandings, I was born and raised in this town. I know the people. Your repeated offers for the house prodded me to ask some questions."
Kate forced all expression from her face. “Quiet feelers have been out state-wide for some time about the price of local land. This particular stretch, along the river, is still unpurchased. Others have been quietly acquired. Farm land mostly. Obviously, the price will go up drastically when landowners discover what is about to happen. You, Mr. Blandings, are looking for a steal."
Dancing Ladies Page 27
