There was no answer. It could have been something as simple as a shadow from the upstairs landing, but I got up anyway, leaving Gigi snoozing on the couch. Poking my head out the den door, I peered up the stairs. Had Rhys come in through the back and gone up to his room?
My eye caught someone whisking round a corner in the parlour, and I followed, determined to satisfy my curiosity. But by the time I crossed the foyer, all I saw was a flutter of apron strings at the second door. My heart recognized similarities before my head, and accelerated with an unformed fear. But I wove through the antiques and knickknacks to the dining-room door, and – placing a hand on the frame – braced myself before looking in.
‘Clara?’ I called softly. ‘Paula?’
Again, the room felt as if someone had just left it. And maybe they had. But I couldn’t get the image of long skirts and starched cotton caps out of my head. It was an impression, not even an glimpse, but so close to what I’d imagined last night. Maids would have walked these halls every hour of every day, wearing the same thing, and—
‘Chasing more ghosts?’
The caustic voice made me jump and whirl, strangling a shout of alarm, but not quite quick enough. Addie looked at me with arch enquiry, and no small amount of satisfaction.
Annoyance chased away any lingering unease. ‘Just exploring.’ My tone was unapologetic, maybe even a bit challenging. ‘What are you doing home? I thought you had school.’
She didn’t like the reminder that I was past all that. ‘Did you lose track of time while you were catching up on your soap operas?’ she asked. ‘School is out.’
Now I noticed Caitlin and a girl I didn’t know petting and giggling over Gigi in the den. My dog was still on the sofa, receiving their worship as her due. I hadn’t heard a car arrive, but the TV was still on, and I’d been pretty intent on following … nothing, it seemed.
‘Hey, Sylvie,’ said Caitlin, as I crossed the foyer to the den. ‘This is Melissa. She’s on the TTC too.’
I exchanged greetings, but Addie wasn’t bothering with niceties. She looked pointedly at my dog, the remote still in my hand and the pillow I’d thrown onto the coffee table so I could prop up my leg. Then she dropped her book bag where I’d been sitting, a territorial display that I didn’t miss. ‘We usually study in here after school.’
For all my protestations that this wasn’t my home, that it was Paula’s house and I wanted no claim to it, Addie’s implied order that I vacate my spot sent a surge of possessiveness through me. I met her eye and held my ground, just long enough to make sure she knew I was doing her a favour by moving.
When I saw the realization flicker in her eyes, I clicked off the TV and tossed the remote on the cushions. ‘Knock yourself out.’
Calling for Gigi, I headed up the stairs to my room.
Chapter 9
In my room, I contemplated the secret drawer in the desk, wondering how I’d found the latch so easily before, yet couldn’t seem to manage it now. I was just about to see if I could crawl under the desk to look from below, when Paula knocked on the door. Her rap was distinctive.
I flipped open the Davis book, and called for her to come in. Gigi, lying in the reading chair, pricked her ears forward, but didn’t bother to try more charm than that. She had Paula figured out. Or maybe she saw the frown my cousin shot her before she got down to business.
‘Addie and the girls are going to get something to eat at a hamburger place out on the highway. They asked if you’d like to come with them.’
Somehow, I had trouble picturing this invitation, even with my overactive imagination. It made me a little snarky, especially as I was still sore over the earlier implication that I was being vegetarian just to be difficult. ‘Come along and watch them eat hamburgers, you mean?’
Paula got that tight-lipped ‘pick your battles’ expression. ‘I’m sure they have salads and things. Most places do. I think you should go. You can’t sulk in here all day and all night.’
I’d been ‘sulking’ in the garden and in the den, too, but I didn’t point that out. ‘If I go, will you let Gigi spend the night inside?’
She sighed and set her hands on her hips. ‘No. But I won’t complain about her staying with you as long as you’re awake.’
I agreed. It wouldn’t stop me from sneaking Gigi in after dark, but it would save me some grief the rest of the time.
And seriously, when your day includes making a list to see if you’re crazy or not, there’s not much further downhill things could go.
I predicted the outing would be excruciating, and was pleasantly surprised that it was only intermittently unpleasant. Joe’s Big Burger, located halfway to Selma on the state highway, was a popular place, and I had no trouble finding something to eat, as long as I wanted a wedge of iceberg lettuce or a grilled cheese sandwich. Addie, Caitlin and Melissa discussed people I didn’t know, parties I hadn’t been to and things I’d never heard of. Which suited me fine, because it meant I didn’t have to talk about myself.
When they asked me about life in New York, I answered a few questions, then turned the conversational burden back to them. ‘So, what do you guys do for fun around here?’ I asked, figuring everyone liked to talk about their pastimes. ‘Besides build summerhouses and plot world domination through catfish.’
Caitlin and Melissa laughed. ‘We keep busy,’ said Melissa. ‘There’s football in the fall, and basketball in the spring. School dances are fun.’
‘And like you mentioned, there is the Catfish Festival coming up,’ said Caitlin. ‘You’re coming to that, right?’
‘I’ll have to check my social calendar,’ I drawled, and they laughed again – not Addie, of course, but the other two – missing the edge to my remark. Just as well. They seemed like nice girls.
‘So if you live in Maddox Landing,’ I said, ‘then what is Cahaba? Another town?’
‘Oh, Cahaba was the first capital of Alabama.’ Melissa dragged a fry through her ketchup. ‘Now it’s a ghost town on the other side of your house.’
‘A ghost town?’ I deliberately didn’t look at Addie, though after Shawn’s jokes at breakfast and Addie finding me hunting shadows that afternoon, I wondered if I’d been set up.
But Melissa meant it colloquially. ‘It doesn’t exist any more. There’s a couple of old buildings, and they’ve made a historic park there. Old Cahawba. With a w.’
I looked at Addie for clarification. ‘But the sign on the wagon says Bluestone Hill Inn, Cahawba.’
She’d defrosted somewhat during dinner, as long as the conversation was about her and her friends, and not about me. Now she answered almost nicely. ‘They can say whatever they want, since it’s not in Maddox Landing, either.’
‘Don’t mention Old Cahawba to Shawn,’ warned Caitlin. ‘His dad is trying to develop some land on the other side of the park and the state is being kind of a bear about it.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ I made one of those connections that makes you feel a little slow in retrospect. ‘So, Shawn’s family … Maddox Landing is named after them? They must go way back.’
I’d finished my sandwich – as much as I was going to eat of it, anyway – and it was a good thing, since Addie’s icicle stare would have congealed the melted cheese in a hurry. ‘The Maddox and Davis families go way back together.’
The other two girls held in giggles. But not very well. ‘Oh my gosh, Sylvie.’ Caitlin’s eyes brimmed with matchmaking fire. ‘Shawn was totally talking about you today too.’
Crap. They’d clearly taken my interest the wrong way. Well, maybe the right way, but a whole lot further. ‘I only ask because I saw the Maddox name in a book I was reading about my own family history. I was wondering if we were cousins.’
Melissa grinned broadly, taking my clarification as confirmation instead of denial. ‘Don’t worry. If you are, it’s far enough back not to matter.’
‘It’s never mattered much anyway,’ drawled Addie. ‘Y’all’s families are as inbred as a red
neck joke.’
‘Don’t listen to her,’ said Caitlin. ‘That’s just a Southern cliché.’
That didn’t make me feel better. I’d seen some reallife clichés since I’d arrived. I slid a covertly curious glance at Addie. Was this assumption I was going after Shawn the root of her dislike? Her digs were at my sense of entitlement. Maybe she thought I thought I was entitled to Shawn.
‘I don’t want to poach on anyone’s territory,’ I said, just to see what would happen. Addie rolled her eyes and the other two girls laughed, and this time, I didn’t get why. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Nothing,’ said Addie, with a repressive look at Melissa and Caitlin, and their in-joke giggles. ‘Let’s get out of here. Some of us have things to do tomorrow.’
The house was quiet when Caitlin dropped Addie and me back at Bluestone Hill. Paula had left lights burning on the front porch and in the foyer. In the kitchen, too, I saw, as the car pulled in front of the garage to let us out.
My hand on the door latch, I turned to the other three girls in the car. ‘Thanks for inviting me to dinner,’ I said, twisting to include Melissa and Addie in the back seat. ‘I’ll tell Gigi you said hi, Caitlin. It was nice meeting you, Melissa.’
She waved. ‘You, too. I guess I’ll see you Thursday night.’
I cast back through the conversation at dinner, trying to find a reference to an event. ‘What’s Thursday night?’
‘The circle.’ The ‘of course’ was unspoken.
‘She means the Teen Town Council circle,’ said Caitlin smoothly, though I hadn’t missed the poke Addie had given Melissa in the ribs. ‘That’s what we call our closed meetings.’
‘Which only Shawn can invite anyone to,’ Addie said pointedly.
Melissa glared back at Addie. ‘Sorry. I assumed he had.’
‘Why?’ I asked, curious at the underlying dynamic.
Caitlin smiled, her drawl widening too. ‘Because you’re a Davis, of course.’
But I was only here for a month, and had no desire to get involved in junior politics. Not that I had a chance to point that out, since Addie was already climbing out of the car. I got out too, slowed by my stiff leg, then waved as Caitlin pulled from the driveway.
Addie didn’t wait for me, heading straight for the stairs to her apartment. I wondered, thanks to the subtext in the car, if maybe she wasn’t as territorial about Shawn as about this inner circle. I could explain to her that I wasn’t interested in infringing on her position as alpha bitch of this pack. Though maybe I should put it in more tactful terms.
It would have to wait, though. By the time I reached the sidewalk that connected the apartment stairs with the back door of the house, Addie was already on her landing, letting herself in. And she didn’t even say goodnight.
Gigi gave a yodelling bark of welcome as I came in the screen door to the back porch. I shushed her, in case Paula had gone to her own room to watch TV or go to sleep; there had been no light on in the den, and I didn’t see anyone in the kitchen. I hoped I could let Gigi out for her last walk of the night, then slip upstairs and be done with sneaking around.
When I opened her crate, she bounded out with a playful growl, then went straight for the screen door. I grabbed a scooper bag and let us both out, easing the door so it didn’t bang closed. Gigi made a full-tilt circuit of the back yard; then, while I was carefully making my way down the rail-less stairs, she shot off down the terrace steps to the great lawn.
‘Dammit, Gigi!’
The worst thing I could do was run after her. Fortunately, at the end of the long day, the best I could manage was a hobble. She paused to pee, allowing me to keep her in sight. Then, reaching the open area that stretched between the house and the woods on the left, and the inlet on the right, she headed purposefully for the trees.
Snakes, coyotes, bobcats – I could barely see Gigi at the edge of the brush, but in my mind I could picture any one of those things snatching her up and making a meal out of her. Desperate to stop her, I reached down beneath the panic for the alpha-dog voice I’d never managed before.
‘Gigi, stay!’
She planted her feet. It was too dark and too far to tell, but I imagined she was quite surprised. I certainly was.
‘Come, Gigi.’
Maybe I was connecting with the Davis in me, some piece of the Colonel passed down. I didn’t have to like my ancestry to draw on it, I suppose. Gigi trotted back to me, and as tempting as it was, I didn’t scold her. I just scooped her up for a cuddle of relief.
Then I heard what she was after. The same wailing noise from the night before. Only here it was clear, distinct, and I realized it wasn’t a cat in heat. It sounded like a baby’s cry.
A baby? Seriously? I couldn’t chalk this up to the old house and the power of suggestion. What sick part of my psyche could have dreamed this up?
The air was clammy against my skin; I didn’t know if it was the cold sweat of fear for my sanity, or a sudden damp wind off the river, but a shiver ran through me, and I clutched Gigi closer to my chest.
She squirmed to peer over my shoulder at the house. Her low growl vibrated against my cheek, spread through me like a second shudder. The hair on my arms rose, my spine tingling with the awareness of someone watching me.
I knew the feeling too well to mistake the sure electricity of an audience. But this was different – the stinging rush of cold horror at being caught. The heavy weight of dread sat on my heart like a stone.
Despite my fear, I couldn’t make myself turn slowly; I whirled, like jumping in a frigid pool. My gaze went unerringly up, to the first-floor balcony, and the French doors there. Like the shadows before, the figure was a wisp of distinction that fled before my eye could focus on it.
But Gigi had seen it too.
Which meant the watcher was real enough. Only my reaction was nuts. The thought was enough to spur me forward with purpose, leaving my fear behind me, as I headed for the house as quickly as my limping determination would carry me.
The stairwell was cold, and the landing even colder. The hall leading to the French doors was empty and the sheer curtains hung in still folds. To my right, the soft glow of the bedside lamp marked my room. To the left was the brighter yellow strip of light shining from under the door that mirrored mine.
With Gigi still tucked securely against my side, I marched to it and knocked – at the last moment remembering to keep quiet so I didn’t alert Paula. I counted seconds, reaching five-one-thousand before it opened. Rhys stood backlit in the doorway, obviously surprised. ‘Sylvie?’
The prickling jolt of awareness, the way my skin seemed to measure the distance to his, only escalated the tension. Desperation to find just one answer to something put a rash edge to my demand. ‘Was it you?’
His surprise turned to confusion. ‘What?’
I wrestled my voice down in volume and pitch. ‘Were you looking out the back window just now?’
‘No,’ he said slowly, perhaps cautiously, ‘I’ve been in here working since after dinner.’
My questions shot out like an interrogation. ‘Is your dad home yet?’
Rhys paused in very deliberate irritation, leaning a hand on the doorframe with a forbidding frown. ‘What are you on about? Dad came home and went to bed.’
‘It’s only nine-thirty,’ I said.
‘Well, some of us were up at dawn.’ He glanced behind me, towards the junction of the hallways, and there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. ‘You said you saw someone at the window?’
I inhaled to answer, then my better sense – what was left of it – and self-preservation trapped the words in my throat. What was I doing? It was logical that Rhys might have looked out the window – I had called to Gigi rather forcefully. But if it hadn’t been him, it was not smart to lay all my crazy cards on the table. I’d been so frantic for an explanation—
‘Sylvie?’ Paula called from the ground floor, softly so as not to wake any sleepers. ‘Did I hear you come in?’
Well, physically sound, anyway.
Gigi wiggled in my grasp, eager to say hi. I grabbed her tags to keep them from jingling.
‘Did you have a good time?’ Paula asked, still a disembodied voice from below.
Was she going to insist on a briefing? I couldn’t keep shouting down my answers in a stage whisper; that would be weird. And I couldn’t carry Gigi to the railing with me, or the jig would be up. If I set her down, there was a good chance she would run to greet Paula herself.
I’d only wrestled with the dilemma for a moment before Rhys took the little dog from my arms and jerked his head towards the landing in silent instruction. Nodding my distracted gratitude, I went to the balustrade, leaning over so Paula could set eyes on me and relieve her mind.
‘Everyone was very nice,’ I said, only lying a little bit.
Paula smiled in satisfaction. ‘Didn’t I say you’d be glad you went?’
‘Yes you did.’ I managed to keep my voice free of sarcasm, letting her interpret my ambivalent agreement as she wished.
‘Well, goodnight then, honey. Don’t stay up late reading.’
‘I won’t. Goodnight, Cousin Paula.’ Returning to Rhys, I reached for Gigi – who was happily chewing on one of his fingers, which was not allowed – but he retreated through his doorway, and I had no choice but to follow if I wanted my dog.
The room was very similar to mine, though the colour scheme was more masculine – dark wood and faded reds and blues. Even the writing desk looked like the twin of mine, except stained dark brown instead of painted white.
Unlike my room, however, his was distinctly livedin. There was a pile of books and papers on the writing desk, along with a laptop computer and assorted electronics, and a few clothes thrown over a chair. Rhys gestured for me to close the door. I did, and he set Gigi on the floor, where she went to investigate a kicked-off jumble of shoes. Rhys’s feet were bare.
The Splendour Falls Page 12
