Dying to Tell (24 page)

Only Amelia and her grandfather, and Amelia with the gun.

Sadie searched the house, afraid that whoever had stolen the letters was still inside, but the house was empty. Who would take Amelia’s letters?

Other than Jake and Ms. Lettie, who had even known they existed?

She should probably call him and tell him...but what could he do? Report stolen letters?

No use in calling him tonight. She’d tell him later. Her nerves were too raw to see him again. If he came over, she might give in and beg him to stay.

She checked to make sure all the doors were locked and secure, then grabbed her grandfather’s pistol again and carried it to bed with her.

For hours, she lay staring at the ceiling, the image of the dead doctor floating through her mind. She had left Slaughter Creek because of one man Amelia had killed, and returned because of another.

Ten years ago, she had put as many miles between her and this insanity as she could, thinking distance would chase away the memories. But they had dogged her everywhere she’d gone.

And now she’d returned to more death and madness.

Finally she drifted into a restless sleep, but she jerked awake at dawn, her heart drumming. Arthur Blackwood’s face taunted her.

She rubbed her eyes, mentally ordering his image away, but just as it had done for years now, it refused to leave her.

Shivering, she grabbed her robe and tugged it on, anxious to talk to Amelia. While she showered, she struggled to recall the details of the night Skid killed Arthur Blackwood. Had someone been in the woods by the house?

Or had someone been at the old mill by the river?

She hadn’t noticed any cars or heard anyone nearby. But she’d been horrified at what her sister, or rather Skid, had done, and terrified they’d get caught, and she hadn’t exactly been looking around.

Shaking off the tremors that accompanied the memories, she dried off and threw on some clothes, then made coffee and ate a bite of toast. By the time she reached the hospital, she’d formulated a plan.

Hopefully she could talk to Amelia, then access Viola. Maybe Viola knew something about the night Papaw had died.

She checked in at the nurse’s station, then peeked in on her sister. Ms. Lettie had dozed off in the chair, so Sadie woke her.

“Go on home, Ms. Lettie. I’ll stay with Amelia now.”

Ms. Lettie rubbed her eyes, stood and stretched, then hobbled over to Amelia and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be back later, sugar.”

As soon as she left, Sadie remembered the letters. She should have asked Ms. Lettie about them. She made a mental note to do so later.

Weary, she settled down beside her sister and watched her sleep—a restless sleep that Sadie knew was riddled with the voices of the others.

Finally, in the early afternoon, Amelia stirred and opened her eyes. “Sadie?”

Sadie scooted her chair closer to the bed. “I’m here, Sis.”

Amelia’s eyes looked clearer today, as if the medication had taken effect.

“Sadie, I’m scared,” she whispered.

Sadie moved the chair closer to the bed and cradled Amelia’s hands in hers. “I know, but I’m here. And we’re going to figure things out together.”

Amelia bit down on her lower lip. “Is it true? Papaw’s...dead?”

The anguish in her sister’s voice wrenched Sadie’s heart. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

Tears trickled down Amelia’s cheeks. “I...they...they say I did it?”

Sadie swallowed back her own emotions. “You were there, Sis, but we’re not sure what happened. That’s why we need to talk.”

Amelia blinked back more tears. “But I don’t remember...”

Sadie nodded. “Ms. Lettie said Papaw had been drinking a lot lately. Was he upset about something?”

Amelia tried to push herself to a sitting position, but the restraints snapped tighter around her wrists and ankles, and she cried out in frustration.

This time Sadie didn’t bother to call the nurse. “Hang on, I’ll get these things off of you.” Amelia calmed slightly as Sadie unfastened the restraints. Then her sister sat up, rubbing at her wrists where they were red and bruised.

“Now,” Sadie said, using the same low soothing tone she used with her patients, “let’s talk about that night. I understand it’s painful, but it’s important you remember what happened.”

“I would never hurt Papaw,” Amelia said in a raw whisper. “I loved him, Sadie.”

“I know you did, Sis, and that’s why this doesn’t make sense,” Sadie said, struggling for answers. Had one of her sister’s alters felt differently about their grandfather? “Was Papaw upset about something?” she asked again.

Amelia pulled at the sheet. “I don’t know...I don’t think so.”

“Please, Amelia.” Sadie captured her sister’s trembling hands in hers. “Trust me. I want to try a therapeutic technique on you. Now close your eyes and relax.”

Amelia looked panicked, but she nodded, and Sadie squeezed her hands to reassure her.

“That’s right—close your eyes and think of a safe place. It can be anywhere. Your bedroom. The studio.” She lowered her voice to a soothing pitch and continued talking about Amelia’s art and her paintings until her sister calmed, slipping into a hypnotic state.

“You feel safe, don’t you?”

Her sister nodded.

“Now we’re going back to the other night. You’re at home, and Papaw is there. Are you two alone, or is someone else there with you?”

“I...don’t know...I’m coming in the house, and it’s dark.”

“Where’s Ms. Lettie?”

“She went home,” Amelia whispered, as if she was recalling the details. “She was mad at me, because I hid some of my pills in the flowerpot, and she told Papaw he should put me back in the hospital. Papaw said no, but she said if I didn’t take my meds, I’d have to go back.”

Sadie squeezed her fingers to reassure her. “That’s good. Then what happened?”

Amelia’s lower lip quivered. “I didn’t want Papaw to be mad, but the pills...they make my head so fuzzy I can’t think. I can’t paint...”

She was getting agitated again, so Sadie rubbed her hands. “It’s okay, Amelia. I understand. Then what happened? You went inside to talk to Papaw—”

Amelia sighed, a pained, troubled sound. “He...yes, he wants to talk to me about the sanitarium. And about that n...ight.”

Sadie went perfectly still. “What night?”

Amelia stiffened. “You know...
that
night. The one we never talk about.”

A coldness swept over Sadie. That night—the one that had changed her life forever. After they’d buried Blackwood’s body, her grandfather had forbidden them from ever discussing it.

“Why did he want to talk about it?” Sadie asked.

“I don’t know.” She put her hands over her ears. “The voices started then, and I got upset...and I don’t remember what happened.”

“Did you hear the gun fire?”

Amelia began to rock herself back and forth, tears trickling down her face. “The shot...Papaw, there’s blood...”

Sadie drew Amelia into a hug. “I know, it’s so sad,” Sadie whispered. “But you did good, Amelia. Really good.”

Amelia clung to her. “I miss Papaw, I...what’s going to happen to me, Sadie?”

Sadie gripped her sister’s arms and forced her to look at her. “Nothing. I’m going to take care of everything.” Which meant she had to access the alters. “I realize this is difficult, Sis, but I need to talk to Viola.”

“Viola?” Amelia straightened, clenching the sheets tighter. “But I don’t want to go away.”

At one time Amelia couldn’t call upon the alters or switch at will, but part of her therapy had been learning to talk to them so she could merge them into one. “It’s just for a few minutes. She might know something that could help us,” Sadie said. “Then I’ll call you back, Amelia. I promise.”

Amelia clawed at her hand. “Wait, Sadie—first I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

An odd look darkened her face. “No...they don’t want me to tell you.”

Frustration knotted Sadie’s stomach. “Tell me what?”

Her sister angled her head to the side, then dropped it forward and closed her eyes. Sadie watched her body jerk; then Amelia opened her eyes again, and Sadie realized her sister had transitioned.

Amelia stroked her hair down, as if primping, then crossed her legs and raised her fingers as if she were holding an invisible cigarette. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, Viola,” Sadie said. “Do you know why Amelia’s in the hospital?”

Viola rolled her eyes. “Of course, we all know. She’s a mess without us.”

Sadie remained calm. “Losing Papaw is hard on her. Can you tell me what he was upset about? Did he and Amelia argue?”

Viola jerked her eyes away.

“Or was he mad at you, Viola?” Sadie asked.

“Why would he be mad at me?” Viola asked with genuine shock in her expression. “Me and your granddaddy got along just fine.”

Sadie arched a brow. “He didn’t mind if you brought boyfriends back to Amelia’s house?”

She looked offended. “It’s my house, too.”

“So he didn’t mind?”

Viola shrugged, but a devilish gleam lit her eyes. “What he didn’t know didn’t hurt him.”

“He never found you entertaining a man?”

Viola smoothed her hair down. “No, darling. I...was always discreet.”

Not like she’d been in high school.

“Do you know what happened the night Papaw was shot?” Sadie asked.

Viola’s eyes widened, as if she was remembering. “They were arguing,” she said in a low whisper. “Your granddaddy was beside himself, said he was scared for Amelia. Said that
he
was back.”

Sadie frowned. “What do you mean, he’s back? Who’s back?”

“
He
is,” Viola whispered. “He’s back, and he’s going to kill Amelia. We have to stop him.”

“I don’t understand. Are you talking about another alter?”

Viola’s hand trembled as she stood and paced to the window. For a moment, she gripped it, looking out as if she was terrified of something outside.

Then Viola disappeared, and Sadie watched as Skid assumed her body. “Shut up, Viola!” Skid instantly slicked Amelia’s hair behind one ear, threw his shoulders back with an attitude, and cocked his head sideways like a belligerent teenager. “Viola talks too damn much.”

“Then you talk to me,” Sadie said. “If you want to protect Amelia, tell me what happened the night Papaw died.”

Skid spun around, eyes spewing venom. “Stop asking questions, Sadie. You’re gonna get your sister killed.”

Sadie choked back her anger. “Me? I’m trying to save her from going to jail.”

“No, you’re causing more trouble!” Skid snarled. “Just go back where you came from and leave us the hell alone!”

“You want me to leave because you don’t want me to find out that you killed Papaw just like you killed Arthur Blackwood. Isn’t that right?”

Skid punched the wall. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. All your nosing around is making things worse.”

“I know you’re the violent one,” Sadie said, forcing herself not to react. “That you think you’re protecting Amelia, just like you did years ago. But the only way to help Amelia is to tell the truth.”

Skid glared at her. “Who are you to talk? You ran out on her.
We
stuck around and protected her.”

The nurse poked her head inside with raised brows, and Sadie positioned herself between Skid and the nurse.

“Everything’s fine,” she said, hoping to diffuse the situation.

Fortunately, Skid remained silent while the nurse stood at the door. “All right, Dr. Tynsdale is on his way up. But any more commotion, and she goes back in the restraints.”

Sadie nodded. “There won’t be any problems.”

Skid paced to the window and turned his back to her, shutting down, and a sense of defeat nagged at Sadie.

A second later, Dr. Tynsdale appeared at the door. “How’s my girl today?”

Amelia shuddered, then turned around, and Sadie realized Amelia had transitioned back into herself. “I...Sadie, you talked to the others?”

Sadie nodded. “To Skid and Viola.”

Amelia clasped her hands. “What did they say?”

“Nothing much that helped,” Sadie said. “Viola said she and Papaw got along fine. Skid insists he’s been protecting you all along.”

“Sadie, I really wish you wouldn’t talk to the alters without me being present,” Dr. Tynsdale said.

Sadie frowned at him. “I’m trying to help her,” she said.

“Can we talk for a moment?” Dr. Tynsdale said.

Sadie glanced at her sister, who looked lost and forlorn. “I’ll be back, Amelia.”

She stepped into the hallway, and Dr. Tynsdale followed.

“I wanted to talk to you about Amelia’s treatment. We were making progress before this thing with your grandfather.”

Sadie sighed. “Had she talked to you about the night with Arthur Blackwood?” Her grandfather had confided in him as Amelia’s doctor, knowing he was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality.

“Not yet, but I was going to broach that in our next session. Then this happened.”

Sadie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you know what Papaw wanted to talk to Amelia about that night?”

Dr. Tynsdale shook his head. “We had just discussed the subject. I really felt that Amelia needed to deal with the trauma of what happened before she could fully heal.”