April Fools (14 page)

"I don't like this, Noel -- I don't like sleeping in the same house with Adam --"

"Nothing can happen to you in here, Belinda. And we can talk some more in the morning. I need to think about all this."

She nodded obediently, her eyes wide and frightened. As Noel looked down at her, he suddenly put a hand to her forehead and smiled.

"Don't worry, okay? I'll think of something."

For a brief moment he was framed in the doorway; the next second Belinda heard the click of the latch.

"Good night, Noel," she mumbled.

She didn't think she could sleep, but her eyes closed within minutes. Restlessly she tossed through black nightmares, pursued by blinding headlights, the deep dream-silence shattered by the blare of a horn, the growling of engines -- and suddenly she was pinned beneath the merciless weight of twisted, burning wreckage . . . and invisible hands were trying to pull her out, trying to pull debris from her face and body. ...

They were pulling something across her neck.

She could feel it -- a long, thick rope -- being pulled slowly and heavily across her neck... across her windpipe. . . .

Belinda's eyes fluttered open and she caught her breath.

The pressure on her neck was still there . . .

Still moving.

She felt its uncomfortable warmth . . . the slow, relentless tightening of its flesh . . . like one long muscle ...

Shrieking, Belinda flung the covers back and leaped from the bed, cowering in the comer of the room as she frantically probed the slithering darkness. She was vaguely aware of feet in the hallway, of someone pounding on her door, of a voice shouting her name --

"Belinda! Belinda, are you all right? Unlock the door!"

She was terrified to cross the floor, terrified of stepping on something alive . . . deadly. . . .

"Oh, Noel!"

She threw her arms around him as he rushed into the room, and as the light came on, they stared in horror at the foot of the bed.

A four-foot-long snake was just beginning its descent onto the rug. It shrank back from the sudden glare, curling itself defensively onto the bedpost.

Through shocked eyes, Belinda saw Cobbs hesitate in the doorway, neat as a pin in bathrobe and slippers.

"You vile creature. There you are."

'What do you mean?" Noel burst out at him. "Did you know this thing was loose?"

"Since eleven o'clock tonight," Cobbs replied. *When I discovered the empty cage."

Cobbs was the only one up when Belinda came down the next morning. She leaned weakly in the doorway, watching as he tied a starched white apron about himself and solemnly poured dog food into Sasha's bowl. The dog was nowhere to be seen -- sleeping with Noel, Belinda guessed -- but Cobbs wiped off her food mat and put fresh water in her other dish, aligning both bowls just so.

"Morning, Cobbs."

"It appears to be, miss," Cobbs responded, though he didn't turn to look at her. She plopped down at the table, surveying the room through red eyes. "Breakfast?" he asked.

"No, thanks, I couldn't," she sighed. "You didn't seem surprised to see me last night."

"Nothing in this house surprises me. Tea?"

"Thanks. Cobbs?"

"Yes, miss."

"Was Adam with you at the movies last night?"

"He was."

"Sitting right beside you the whole time? Where you could see him?"

Cobbs looked insulted. "Due to our varying tastes in films, miss, Mister Adam and I attended separate features. All in the same theater, however."

Belinda stared hard at the tabletop, her stomach suddenly queasy. "Cobbs," she said carefully, "do you think Adam's crazy?"

Cobbs cast her a disdainful look. "All teenagers are crazy. It happens to be their one constancy."

"Fm serious."

Perhaps it was her tone of voice ... or her tear-swollen eyes ... or merely the uncanny perception that Cobbs seemed to have. Whatever it was, Cobbs set her tea down in front of her, then took the opposite chair. His face looked rather tired.

"It happened so many years ago," he said.

*What did? You sound so mysterious." Belinda shifted nervously, and he nodded.

"It is, in a way. Because we shall probably never know."

"Know . . . what?"

"Perhaps I should start at the beginning."

"Yes. Please."

"He was a child, you understand. Only ten years of age. His parents were not on the best of terms. If was difiicult for him."

"You mean they fought a lot?"

"Most unpleasant . . . most uncivil. Adam was always a quiet child . . . acutely observant . . . intense and sensitive by nature."

"Then he must have been very affected by it."

"It was, as I say, most difficult. He was immensely . . . troubled. He adored his father. Mr. Thome, however, adored his business. Adam always came last. Or not at all."

Belinda nodded slowly, not liking the tone of his voice.

"They sent him away for a while, to some distant relatives. Adam didn't know them, and they themselves had no real love for children." He glanced at her, and she nodded again, swallowing over a lump in her throat. "There were . . . problems."

"That's so sad," Belinda murmured. "A little kid with people who didn't care about him and --" She broke off at the look on his face. "What do you mean -- what kinds of problems?"

"Adam tried to run away. Several times, in fact. He claimed they were unkind to him . . . that they . . . abused him."

"Oh, no."

"They, on the other hand, insisted that he was deliberately argumentative and disobedient. They claimed he threatened them, and they wanted to send him home straightaway."

"But his parents didn't beheve the aunt and uncle, did they?"

"They were involved in a bitter divorce. Adam was the furthest problem from their minds."

Belinda cradled her head on her arms, keeping her worried gaze on Cobbs. "How long did he have to stay there?"

Cobbs grew very still. "He stayed until the accident -- the first one, that is."

"Adam was in . . . another accident?" Behnda felt the hair prickle along the back of her neck, and her head came up slowly.

Cobbs took a sip of tea . . . took a long time to settle the cup back in the saucer. "It was a rainy night... as I understand it. . . they were driving along a steep road. ..."

Belinda strained to hear him, but suddenly his words were muffled and faraway ... his face was blurry ... as if nothing could quite penetrate her fear-numbed senses.

"... out of control," Cobbs was saying. His voice was as unemotional as his expression. "The car plunged down an embankment and caught fire. Adam's uncle was killed outright. His aunt died later that night in hospital."

"And ..." Belinda realized she was mumbling; she didn't have the strength to make more of an effort. "And -- Adam --"

"He was thrown clear. The police who found the car said it was nothing short of a miracle."

"And he wasn't hurt?" Belinda felt weak.

"He suffered a head injury." Cobbs moved at last, picked up a cloth napkin, refolded it with precise creases. "Somewhat severe. He was confined to bed for quite a long while."

"My God," Belinda murmured. No wonder this accident has been so traumatic for him . . . ifs bringing it all back again.. .all the bad memories.

"The mood changes began soon after."

"Mood changes?"

"It was as if he was determined to isolate himself from society ... to insulate himself from any further pain. His father, unfortunately, could not be bothered with a problem such as Adam. His mother agreed to take custody of him ... in exchange for a substantial check the first of each month." Before Belinda could comment, he added, "She is an ineffectual woman, I fear. She has spent the last eight years of her life being afraid of the boy."

"Afraid of Adam? His own mother? But --"

"There have been frequent incidents of lying . . . often to the point of compulsiveness. His belligerence frightens her ... he trusts no one and feels himself an outcast from others. Adam is shrewd," Cobbs looked directly into her eyes. "Like any miserable creature who's been consistently mistreated, he senses people's fears and weaknesses and uses them to his own advantage. But it was that accident that started it all."

"Started . . . what?"

"Later that night, as his aunt lay dying, she kept trying to communicate with the doctors. It was impossible to understand what she was saying, but they distinctly caught the words 'Adam' and 'steering wheel' over and over again."

"What?" Belinda gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward, her face draining white. "Cobbs, what are you saying -- ?"

"The doctors said that she was highly agitated -- and that until the very end she kept trying to tell

them something, which they strongly felt involved Adam and the accident. Naturally, they dismissed it as a form of delirium."

Belinda pressed her hands to her head, looking up at Cobbs in dismay. "But -- but you don't think it was anything bad, do you? She could have been hysterical, couldn't she, with the accident and everything? You don't really think Adam would -- ?"

Cobbs sighed, his steady old face impassive. "Nothing was ever proved, miss. And after all. . . he was only a child."

"Why would anyone even consider it?" Belinda held her cup to her hps and realized her hands were shaking. She set it down and clenched her hands in her lap.

"Mister Adam had called home the morning of the accident. His father and mother were away, and so he spoke to me. He was crying ..." Cobbs's voice trailed off as he looked back into his memory. His voice dropped . . . faltered. "He told ... he told me how very unhappy he was, and that he wanted to come home. He said that if he had to stay there a single day longer ... he would do something desperate."

There was a strange roar through her head. In her mind she saw Cobbs recede, then pull back again, and she slumped in her chair, staring at him as if she'd never seen him before. As in a dream, she saw him staring back at her, his brows drawn down over hooded eyes.

"Are you quite all right, miss?"

Her mind reeled with a whirl of impressions -- the handkerchief. . . Adam's slashed face ... April Fools' Day . . . the stench of the bloody doll's head . . . the snake.

"Miss Belinda?"

"Yes." She shook her head, clearing it, and there was a rattle of china as Cobbs took her cup for a refill. "I ... I don't know what to think."

Cobbs's look was matter-of-fact. "Mister Adam is a bit of an enigma."

"He scares me," Belinda said simply. "I don't understand him, and he scares me, Cobbs."

"He scares most people. And he intends to do just that, I've no doubt."

"Do you think he caused that accident eight years ago? Please be honest with me." She looked at him beseechingly, and he stopped beside the table, the sugar and creamer poised just above her cup.

"I think only Mister Adam knows the answer to that."

Before Belinda could reply, they heard a scurry of paws and Sasha came into the kitchen. Noel still looked half asleep as he sat down, but he grinned at them and brushed a stubborn shock of hair from his forehead.

"Don't we have some good strong coffee around here, Cobbs? I don't think this tea will get me going."

"Perhaps you could sample my special macho blend."

Noel grinned again, but Belinda's smile was forced. As Sasha nudged her nose into Belinda's

hand, Noel leaned across with a frown.

"You look beat. Sleep okay?"

"Not really." She lowered her voice as Cobbs disappeared into the pantry. "Cobbs and Adam saw different movies last night. Adam could have sneaked out and --"

"Afraid not. I checked the car last night after they got in."

"You mean --"

Noel shook his head. "Not a scratch."

"Then how?" Belinda hissed. "I don't understand --"

Noel put a finger to his lips as Cobbs reappeared. "Okay, Belinda, what's your pleasure? Cobbs's culinary talents will amaze and delight you."

"I . . . uh . . ." She felt her stomach cramp just thinking of food. "I should probably get home . . . Mom'll be wondering what happened to me."

"Okay. I'll drive you." Noel pushed back from the table, and Cobbs cleared his throat.

"Mister Noel, if I might have a word --"

"Only one. Only if it's pleasant."

"It's your mother, sir."

"Forget it, Cobbs. That is not pleasant." Noel grinned. "Sorry. What about her?"

"She hasn't checked into her hotel. In fact, she's not expected there at all."

Noel's hand stopped halfway to Sasha's head, and he looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I tried to ring her last night -- with a report on Mr. Thome. I was informed that she'd sent a facsimile message, changing her plans."

"Did she say what the change was?"

"Only that a business emergency called her away immediately."

"That's funny." Noel exchanged glances with Belinda. "Would she usually tell you when she's changing her plans?"

"It's unlikely, sir."

"Well ..." Noel shrugged, but Belinda could see the uneasiness in his eyes. "Knowing Mom, she'll be found when she wants to be. Come on, Belinda -- I'll take you home."

'Wait -- I forgot my purse. Thanks for everything, Cobbs. Noel, I'll meet you outside, okay?"

It only took a few minutes to retrieve her purse from the bedroom. As Belinda caught a glimpse of gray sky past the window, she shivered and zipped up her jacket, suddenly remembering the handkerchief. Fve got to remember to show it to Noel when I get hom^e. . . . For a moment she stood beside the bed, remembering his kiss, the way he'd held her. The gown lay folded on the bed now, and she looked at it wistfully. And then she remembered her nightmare -- that feeUng of suffocating -- waking up with the snake across her neck --

Another chill went through her, and she hurried back down the hall, slowing a little as she spotted a half-open door and a dim glow slanting across the corridor. She stopped and stared at it, wondering if someone had accidentally left a Hght on that she should turn off. But as she started in, there came a faint sound of drawers opening and shutting, the soft rustle of papers.