A Circle of Time (15 page)

 

That night, before getting ready for bed, Allison stood before the mirror. She shuddered as she examined the strange face and figure. It was still a shock to look into a mirror and not see her own face gaze back. And she couldn't rid herself of the feeling she had seen that face before, somewhere other than on the girl in the mirror.

“How grand you look, Allison,” Joshua had told her that evening when he first saw her in the emerald-green gown. “Just like a lady—like you belong here, in this mansion.” His eyes and impish grin were more teasing than ever as his gaze traveled the length of her gown and back up to her loose golden waves, resting finally on her face.

Being inside Becky's body felt like being in her own body. It was easy to forget her true physical appearance. So when Joshua complimented her, she had blushed, blossoming under his admiring gaze. But now she was reminded that each time he complimented her, it was really Becky he was complimenting.

As Allison shed the green gown and slipped into the simple white cotton nightgown Tere had given her, she continued to ponder her predicament. It was one thing to live in another person's body without knowing what you look like—almost like playing make-believe. But looking in the mirror reminded her that this was no game: Allison Anne Blair's spirit was locked in Rebecca Lee Thompson's body until her debt to Becky was paid or until Allison, herself, was dead.

 

Allison opened her eyes. She was in a strange bed, in a dark room. As her gaze slid over the unfamiliar furniture, the sound of voices drifting through the open window dragged her attention from her surroundings. She padded barefoot over the cold tiles to the window.

A full moon cast its silvery glow over the rose garden and lawn. Agitated voices continued, somewhere around the corner of the building. Remembering where she was and why she was there, Allison ran to the French doors and slipped outside, rushing amid the shadows, following the sound of the voices.

“Understand me, woman!” said a man's voice. “I will
not
be blackmailed. Now get off my property this instant!”

“You won't be so hoity-toity when your precious secret is out and—”

“Listen to me”—the man spoke through clenched teeth—“if you ever breathe a word of this nonsense to anyone and upset the members of my family, it will be the last word you speak! ”

“Nonsense, eh?” The woman gave a short, bitter laugh. “If it was such nonsense you wouldn't be so riled up.”

“It
is
nonsense. Nothing but a nasty lie dreamed up by a scheming, greedy woman to avenge her jealous nature and profit from the misery of others.”

“Lies or not, do you want your precious Tere and Isa and your dear Ana—”

“Never! You hear me—never utter the names of my family again! I will pay to get you out of our lives. But don't
ever
let me catch you on my property again as long as you live!”

The woman snorted. “You think you're so high-and-mighty. Well, you'd better pay up.”

“Madam, I have given you my word, and the word of a Cardona Pomales is solemn.”

“Humph! I'll contact you—”

“I shall be the one doing the contacting, and after that, I never want to see you again. Is that clear? Now get off my land!”

The woman snorted once more. Allison peeked around the corner in time to see the bulky form of Sadie Thompson turn and hobble away from the stiff and formidable figure of Don Carlos.

In the shadows opposite where she stood, Allison noticed a crouched figure, who also had been listening to the argument, rise and slip from view.

An urgent knocking at Allison's bedroom door dragged her from a heavy sleep. “Becky, wake up! Becky!”

Pale morning light barely illuminated the room. The early morning twitter of birds floated through the open window.

The insistent knocking continued.

Allison slid from her bed and unlocked the door. She'd locked it the previous night due to a case of jittery nerves. The moment she cracked open the door, Tere burst inside.

“Isa is missing. She must have escaped during the night. Socorro and I have searched the entire house, with no sign of her. She must be in the woods.”

“How could she escape?”

Tere waved a hand impatiently. “A window perhaps—that is not important right now. First, we must find her, later, we can worry about how she got away.”

“It'll just take me a minute to dress,” Allison said, forgetting how long her new clothes took to put on. “Is Joshua here yet? Maybe he can help.”

“A very good idea. I will have Socorro and the maids search the rest of the estate, then I will look for Joshua. We shall meet you at the front gate.” Tere rushed off, leaving Allison alone with the task of getting dressed.

When she lifted the green dress and spotted the dozens of tiny buttons that had to be dealt with before she'd be ready, she tossed it aside and slipped on Becky's old clothes. Threadbare, maybe, but they were quicker and more practical in an emergency.

“Boy, could I use some good old blue jeans and a T-shirt right now,” she muttered as she ran barefoot through the corridors of the mansion.

 

Joshua and Tere were waiting for her at the gate. At Tere's raised eyebrow, Allison explained, “There wasn't time to do all those buttons.”

“I suppose you are right,” Tere replied. “We must not waste time. We must find Isa before she harms herself. Joshua, you know these woods better than anyone. Where should we start?”

“Did Miz Isabel like to walk in the woods when she was young? Maybe she had a favorite spot or a secret hiding place.”

Tere gasped. “Magda's cottage! Isa was upset last night because she insisted José was coming for her. Maybe she went looking for him.”

“Why, sure! ” said Joshua. “He used to live at the cottage with Magda. It would make sense for Miz Isabel to look there. ”

Joshua led them along his shortcut through the woods. When they reached the cottage, Isa was sitting in Magda's rocker, rocking and singing to a ragged-haired baby doll on her lap. Magda perched on a stool at her side.

As they entered, Isa leaped from the rocker, her eyes anxious and searching.

“José?” she said, running to the door and looking past the three visitors. “José, where are you?” She turned to Tere. “Have you seen José?”

“Come back in the house, Isa,” said Tere, taking her sister by the shoulders and leading her to the rocker. “
Siéntate.
José cannot come today.”

Isa shook her head like a spoiled child who is reminded of bedtime. “José is coming, I know it. I must be patient. He promised he would come for me, and José would never break a promise.”

Tere turned to Magda, her face etched with concern. “What can I do?” she said, sinking onto a chair beside her friend. “I simply do not know what to tell her without breaking her heart again.”

“What is there to tell her?” Magda replied. “She lives in a fantasy world, believing her beloved José will come back for her and make everything right. Perhaps it is kinder to leave her in that world. Somewhere inside, she knows the truth, and perhaps when she is ready to face it, she will.”

Tere squeezed Magda's hand. “You are wise, dear Magda.”

The two friends turned to watch Isa rocking her baby doll in her arms, cuddling it close while she hummed and cooed to it.

Allison took Joshua's hand and led him to the door. “Let's go outside while they visit,” she whispered. “I have something to tell you.”

 

“Last night,” Allison told Joshua, “I was awakened by angry voices. I snuck out to see who it was.”

“So who was it?”

“Sadie and Don Carlos! Out in the shadows of the rose garden. Can you believe it? Sadie is blackmailing him.”

“Blackmail? What could she have on Don Carlos?” Joshua said, more to himself than to Allison. “Not that he's any saint. Lord knows he probably has his share of ugly secrets—that kind of man usually does. But how would Sadie find out?”

Allison shrugged. “All I heard was it's some secret that would upset his family. Don Carlos tried to pretend he didn't care what Sadie knew and that she was making it up. But I could tell by his voice that he was afraid of anyone finding out this secret. When Sadie threatened to tell his wife and daughters, he finally agreed to pay her off. Then he told her to get off his land and never come back.”

Joshua snorted. “Miz Teresa told her that, too, but she sure didn't lose time in crawling back there like a snake after a rat.”

Allison thought about that. “Why do you suppose Sadie is so nasty? You should have seen the look she gave me yesterday, after Tere told her never to come back.” She shuddered at the memory. “It gives me the willies just to think about it. She really hates poor Becky—and she's her mother.”

“Her stepmother,” Joshua informed her.

“Sadie is Becky's
step
mother? What happened to her real mom? And where's her dad?”

“Both dead. Magda says Becky's ma and pa were real good folks. Kind and generous, though they was dirt poor. Her ma, Ruth, died of consumption when Becky was five. Then her pa needed a ma for Becky so he married Sadie. I hear she wasn't so bad then. Two years later, Ned Thompson died of influenza. That's when the trouble began.”

“Trouble?”

“Well, Magda says Sadie was always as crusty as an old muddy boot, but after Ned died, she became bitter and mean. She resented Ned for dying and leaving her to fend for herself and care for his kin. At least he left her the cabin and a little piece of land. Becky says that soon after her pa died, the beatings began.”

“How sad for Becky. Being orphaned and left with that woman.”

Joshua smiled sadly. “Being orphans was one of the things that brought us together. But at least she had the memory of loving parents, and I had Magda.”

“Then Becky got stuck with Sadie.” Allison sighed. “I wish I could've caught more of the conversation between Sadie and Don Carlos. We don't know what the secret is or when the payoff is. Any bit of information concerning what Sadie says or does in the next two weeks could be important. ”

“Why should it matter what Sadie says or does?”

“Because, Joshua, if Magda's right, we have to find out who wants to kill her and prevent it from happening. That reminds me. While they were arguing, someone else was hiding in the shadows, listening to them. Just after Sadie left, the person disappeared.”

“Could you tell who it was?”

She shook her head. “Couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.”

Allison remembered something else. She gasped and grabbed Joshua's hand. “Joshua, I almost forgot. The last time I came back—the day of April seventeenth—you were going to take me to the Thompson cabin. We got to the edge of the woods, when we heard a door slam. It was Don Carlos, leaving the cabin. He rode off in a huff, and Sadie came out carrying something she apparently hid in the woods. We never found out what happened, because you insisted I go back to Magda's. That's the night Sadie was killed.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I'm not sure. I just know Sadie Thompson is quickly becoming Public Enemy Number One. It might even be Don Carlos who clips her off. He certainly sounded like he wanted to do her in last night!”

“Don Carlos is heavy-handed, all right,” Joshua agreed. “But murder?”

“
Someone
kills her, Joshua. And one thing is for sure—Don Carlos hates her, and blackmail is a perfect motive for murder.”

 

As Allison and Joshua escorted Tere and Isa through the forest and back to the estate, Allison thought about the last moments of their visit with Magda. She and Joshua had still been talking outside the cottage when they heard a heart-wrenching cry.

They had rushed inside to find Isa kneeling in front of the still-swaying rocker. On the floor in front of her lay the bedraggled baby doll, arms stretched upward in a perpetual and pathetic plea for affection. Isa's hands covered her face, and her entire body shook with sobs.

When Tere stooped to wrap her arms around her sister, Isa shoved her away. “No! Don't touch me! You are part of it. You know where my baby is, and you refuse to help me find her.”

“Shhhh, Isa,” said Tere, trying to scoot closer to her sister. “Here she is—in front of you. Here is your baby.”

Isa slowly raised her eyes, and when she looked at Tere they were full of contempt. “That is no baby!” Her words had a hollow, accusing tone. “That is a stupid doll! My baby is alive and needs me, but I cannot find him ... her?” Isa's voice softened to a whimper. When she spoke again, she spoke mostly to herself. “The nuns would not tell me whether it was a girl or a boy. I still do not know. Papa forbade anyone to tell me. Can you believe that?”

She looked back at Tere, then at Magda. “ ‘The baby is dead,' Papa said, ‘so what does it matter?' Well, my baby is not dead! I know it! A mother would know!” Isa shrieked the words and turned to face her sister, holding out her arms.

“My arms ache to hold my baby. I heard it cry the day it was born, and I hear it cry every day of my life. Each cry is etched in my heart. My baby is out there somewhere, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise. But José will help me. José and I—together we shall find our baby.”

“Isa,
por favor,
I beg you...” Tere stretched out a hand to Isa. “Believe me—”

“No! I will believe no one but José. Soon, José will come.”

Tere rose and clung to Magda, her lovely face twisted with pain. “I don't know what to do, Magda. What shall I do?”

Magda helped her to a chair and turned to Isa. “Isabelita, it is Magda. Remember Magda?” She knelt beside the sobbing woman.

Isa nodded and gave her old friend a lost, trusting look. “José loves you, Magda.”