A Cry In the Night (24 page)

T
he late spring was warm with afternoon showers and the rich abundant land became thick and green. The tough, heady alfalfa plants, now decorated with blue blossoms, were ready for the first cutting of the season.

Cattle strayed far away from the polebarns, happy with the grazing in the sloping fields that led to the riverbank. Tree branches rustled against each other, dressed in the leaves that made a solid green wall of the edge of the woods. Deer sometimes ran through that wall, paused, listened, then escaped back into the protective arms of the trees.

Even the house brightened with the fair weather. Rigid as they were, the heavy curtains could not withstand the delicate breezes that brought the scent of irises and violets and sunflowers and roses indoors.

For Jenny the change was welcome. The warmth of the spring sun seemed to penetrate the constant chill of her body. The scent of flowers in the house almost overcame the pervasive hint of pine. In the mornings
she would get out of bed, open the windows and lie back against the pillows, enjoying the fresh, delicate breeze.

The pills for morning sickness weren't helping. Every morning she was racked by nausea. Erich insisted she stay in bed. He brought her tea and saltines, and after a while the feeling would subside.

He stayed in the house every night now. “I don't want you to be alone, darling, and I'm all ready for the San Francisco exhibit.” He was leaving on the twenty-third of May. “By then Dr. Elmendorf said you'll probably be feeling a lot better.”

“I hope so. Are you sure you're not interrupting your painting?”

“Very sure. It's good to spend more time with the girls. And face it, Jen. Between Clyde on the farm and the manager at the limeworks and Emily's father at the bank, I can manage my time my way.”

Now it was Erich who took the girls to the stable during the mornings and led them on their ponies. Rooney came over regularly. The sweater Jenny was knitting was going well and she was already starting Jenny on a patchwork quilt.

Jenny was still helpless to explain how her coat got in Kevin's car. Suppose Kevin did come down, and tried that door on the west porch? It could have been unlocked. Suppose he came in? The closet door was right there. He might have panicked. After all, he didn't know whether or not a housekeeper slept in. Perhaps he took her coat, planning to insinuate that he'd seen her, started driving away, took the wrong turn, put his hand in the pocket in the hope of finding money, pulled out the key and with that the car went off the bank.

It still didn't explain the phone call.

After their nap the girls loved to roam in the fields. Jenny sat on the west porch watching them as her
fingers knitted the rows of wool or made patchwork squares. Rooney had dug up material from the attic, leftover goods that had been used for dresses long ago, a bag of scraps, a bolt of dark blue cotton. “John bought that blue material for me to make curtains for the back bedroom when he took it over. I warned him they'd be too dark. He hated to admit it but he had me take them down after a couple of months. Then I made the ones that are there now.”

Somehow Jenny could not bring herself to sit in Caroline's swing. Instead she chose a wicker chair, high-backed with comfortable cushions. Nevertheless Caroline had sat on this porch, sewing, watching her child play in these fields.

She no longer felt the lack of company. Now she always refused Erich's suggestions of dinner at one of the local restaurants. “Not yet, Erich. I don't even like the smell of food.”

He began taking the children with him when he went out on errands. They came back chatting about the people they'd met, the places where they'd stopped to visit and stayed for cookies and milk.

Now Erich always slept in the back bedroom. “Jen, it's easier this way. I can stay away from you if I'm not too near you but I can't lie beside you night after night and not have my hands on you. Besides you're a restless sleeper. You'll probably sleep better alone.”

She should be grateful but she wasn't. The nightmares happened regularly; over and over again she'd had that sensation of touching flesh, a face in the dark, of feeling long hair against her cheek. She didn't dare tell him that. He'd surely think she was mad.

The day before he was to leave for San Francisco, he suggested she go to the stable with him. The morning nausea hadn't occurred for two days.

“I'd rather you be there when the girls ride. I'm getting pretty unhappy with Joe.”

A quick thrill of worry. “Why?”

“I've heard rumors he's boozing it up every night with his uncle. Josh Brothers is exactly the wrong influence on Joe at this stage. Anyhow if you think he seems hung over, I don't want the girls out with him. I may have to get rid of him.”

Mark was in the stable. His normally calm voice was raised and icy. “Don't you know how dangerous it is to leave rat poison five feet from the oat supply? Suppose some of it got mixed in with the feed? Those horses would go crazy. What the hell is the matter with you lately, Joe? Let me tell you, if this happens again, I'll recommend that Erich fire you. Those children ride the ponies every day. Erich's horse is hard enough to handle even for an experienced rider like him. Give Baron a taste of the strychnine in that stuff and he'd trample anyone who came near him.”

Erich dropped Jenny's arm. “What's all this about?”

A red-faced Joe who seemed on the verge of tears admitted, “I was going to put the poison in the traps. I pulled the box in here when it started to rain and I forgot it.”

“You're fired,” Erich said evenly.

Joe looked at Jenny. Was there something significant in his expression or simple pleading? She wasn't sure.

She stepped forward, took Erich's hand.
“Please,
Erich. Joe's been wonderful with the children. He's so patient teaching them to ride. They'd miss him terribly.”

Erich studied her face. “If it means that much to you,” he said shortly, then turned back to Joe. “Any mistake, Joe,
any
mistake, a stall door open, a dog running around my property, this sort of thing . . .” He glanced contemptuously at the box of rat poison. “That's
it.
Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Joe whispered. “Thank you, sir. Thank you, Mrs. Krueger.”

“And make sure it's
Mrs. Krueger,”
Erich snapped. “Jenny, I don't want the girls riding till I come back. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” She agreed with him. Joe looked ill. There was a bruise on his forehead.

Mark left the stable with them. “You've got a new calf in the dairy barn, Erich. That's why I'm here. Keep an eye on Joe. He was in another fight last night.”

“What the hell is he fighting about?” Erich asked irritably.

Mark's face closed. “Give people not used to liquor a couple of boilermakers and you don't need much excuse.”

“Come back to lunch with us,” Erich suggested. “We haven't seen much of you.”

“Please come,” Jenny murmured.

They walked up to the house together.

“You two go on in,” Erich suggested. “Mark, pour us a sherry, will you? I want to pick up the mail at the office.”

“Sure thing.”

He waited until Erich was out of earshot then said quickly, “Two things, Jenny. I heard the good news about the baby. Congratulations. How do you feel?”

“Much better now.”

“Jenny, I have to warn you. It was very good of you to save Joe's job for him but it's a mistaken kindness. The reason he's getting into fights is that he's too open about his feelings for you. He worships you and the guys who hang around the bars at night are teasing him about it. Joe would be better off far away from this farm.”

“And from me?”

“Bluntly, yes.”

W
hen Erich was leaving for San Francisco he decided to drive the Cadillac to the airport and leave it there. “Unless you particularly want to use it, darling?”

Was there an edge to the question? The last time he'd been away she'd used the car to meet Kevin. “I don't want it,” she said quietly. “Elsa can pick up anything I need.”

“You have your vitamins.”

“Plenty of them.”

“If you don't feel well, Clyde will drive you to the doctor.” They were at the door. “Girls,” Erich called, “come give Daddy a kiss.”

They ran to him. “Bring me a present,” Beth begged.

“Me too,” Tina chimed in.

“Oh, Erich, before you go, tell the girls that you don't want them on the ponies until you get back.”

“Daddy!” There were two wails of protest.

“Oh, I don't know. Joe came to apologize to me.
Says he knows he's been off-base. He's even going to move back in with his mother. I think it's all right to let him take the girls out. You just be sure to be with them every minute, Jen.”

“I'd rather not,” she said evenly.

“Any reason?” His eyebrows quirked.

She thought of what Mark had told her. But there was no way she could discuss that with Erich. “If you're sure it's safe.”

His arms were around her. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too.”

She walked with him to the car. Clyde had driven it out of the garage. Joe was polishing it with a soft cloth. Rooney was standing by it, ready to come in and sew with Jenny. Mark had come over to say good-bye.

“I'll call you as soon as I get to the hotel,” Erich told Jenny. “That will be ten your time.”

That night she lay in bed waiting for the phone to ring. This house is too large, she thought. Anyone could come in the front door, the west door, the back door, come up the back staircase and I'd never hear him or her. The keys were hanging in the office. They were locked up at night but often during the day the office was empty. Suppose someone took a house key, made a copy and returned the first key to the office? No one would ever know.

Why am I worrying about that now? she wondered.

It was just that dream, that recurring dream of touching flesh, of her fingers grazing a cheek, an ear, hair. It was happening almost nightly now. And always the same. The heavy scent of pine, the feeling of a presence, the touching, and then a faint sighing sound. And always when she turned on the light the room was empty.

If only she could talk to someone about it. But who? Dr. Elmendorf would suggest she see a psychiatrist. She was sure of that. That's all Granite Place would
need, she thought. Now that Krueger woman is going to have her head examined.

It was not quite ten o'clock. The phone rang. Quickly she picked it up. “Hello.”

The line was dead. No, she could hear something. Not breathing but something.

“Hello.” She felt herself start to tremble.

“Jenny.” The voice was a whisper.

“Who is this?”

“Jenny, are you alone?”

“Who is this?”

“Have you got another boyfriend from New York with you yet, Jenny? Does he like to swim?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now the voice burst forth, a shriek, a scream, half-laugh, half-sob, unrecognizable. “Whore. Murderer. Get out of Caroline's bed. Get out of it
now
.”

She slammed the phone down. Oh, God, help me. She held her hands against her cheek feeling a tic under her eye. Oh, God.

The phone rang. I won't pick it up. I won't.

Four times, five times, six times. It stopped. It began to ring again. Erich, she thought. It was after ten o'clock. She grabbed the receiver.

“Jenny,” Erich's voice was concerned, “what's the matter? I called a few minutes ago and the line was busy. Then no answer. Are you all right? Who was on the phone?”

“I don't know. It was just a voice.” Her own voice was near hysteria.

“You sound upset. What did whoever called you say?”

“I . . . I couldn't make out the words.” She couldn't tell him.

“I see.” A long pause, then in a resigned tone, Erich said, “We won't discuss it now.”

“What do you mean we won't discuss it?” Shocked,
Jenny heard the shriek in her own voice. She sounded exactly like the caller. “I want to discuss it. Listen, listen to what they said.” Sobbing, she told him. “Who would accuse me like that? Who could hate me so much?”

“Darling, calm yourself, please.”

“But, Erich,
who?”

“Darling,
think.
It was Rooney, of course.”

“But
why?
Rooney likes me.”

“She may
like
you but she
loved
Caroline. She wants Caroline back and when she gets upset she sees you as an intruder. Darling, I warned you about her. Jenny, please don't cry. It's going to be all right. I'll take care of you. I'll always take care of you.”

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