Moonshadows (11 page)

Janet felt a slight chill at his intensity.

They left the carriage house and walked across the grounds.

“Come on, I’ll show you the house.”

Janet looked with sadness at the unkempt lawn. Withered leaves lay thick and soggy upon the tall grass as they waded across the yard. She stumbled on a vine that snaked its way through the roughage and snagged her shoe. Stephen’s arm reached out and caught her before she fell. He held her for the space of a heartbeat.

“You can let me go now,” she said.

He smiled. “Do I have to?”

She laughed and pushed away.

At the door, she turned the key and they stepped inside. Sheet-covered furniture sat like great hulking things in the ghostly evening shadows. Janet flipped the switch but no lights came on.

“I guess Lettie had the power cut off,” she said.

She gave him a tour of the lower floor and turned toward the staircase.

“Would you like to see my studio?” she asked, and immediately regretted the invitation. One day she was going to have to learn not to be so open and trusting with people—handsome, sooty-haired strangers. But not today.

“I want to see it all,” he said.

Bypassing the second floor, Janet rushed them by her grandmother’s bedroom and went straight to the third floor and turned left down the corridor. She pushed through the door into a misty—almost ethereal—light that filtered through from overhead.

Not many people have been in this room,” she said. “It’s comes too close to my center, too close to who I really am.”

Stephen nodded as if he understood. He walked around the room looking at her work.

“You still paint?”

Janet straightened a canvas. “Not in years. Like you, I guess I’m looking for inspiration.”

“You’re too good to let it go.” He picked up a small, unframed canvas of a little boy flying a kite. “I really like this.”

“Then it’s yours,” she said.

“You’re sure? Looks like a lot of work went into it.”

Janet smiled. “It did, and yes, I’m sure.”

She turned from the room. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to visit my grandmother’s room. Will you come with me?”

Without speaking, he nodded his head ever so slightly.

Memories, seasoned with familiar sounds and smells, flooded Janet’s mind when they reached the door on the second floor. She reached for the doorknob but took her hand away. Stephen grasped the knob, turned it slowly and pushed the door inward. A heavy scent of sweetness, almost like the odor of rancid honey, hung in the air.

Janet gasped and clutched Stephen’s arm. Chairs and tables were overturned and the drapes hung in long, tattered shreds. The bed was a tumble of rumpled covers that had at one time been the elegant hand-trimmed labors of Lettie’s absolute perfection. And Elizabeth Lancaster’s undergarments were twisted about the four posters and drooped like obscene banners.

“Who could have done such a thing?” Janet cried.

“Vandals?”

“Briar’s Point doesn’t have vandals. A rascal or two, but not
vandals
.”

Stephen pointed to the dresser. “Well, somebody was sending a message.”

Slashed across the mirror in ragged, scarlet letters, were the words LONG LIVE THE KING!

Janet swayed and clasped a bedpost for support. Fury rumbled in her brain and crashed against her ears. She could see Stephen’s lips moving, mouthing words, but the thunder inside her head drowned out his voice. Her hands unclenched and itched to begin setting the room to rights. She marched around the bed jerking down intimate clothing and straightening the bedclothes. He made an effort to help but Janet muttered to herself and motioned him away. He moved to one side of the room as she continued mumbling, accompanied by an occasional grunt. Her foot struck something beneath the edge of the bed. Without speaking, she bent and retrieved an ashtray overflowing with reefer stubs, flattened and filthy. A raw growl of pain escaped her lips.

“Janet—”

“This is my problem, Stephen. I’ll handle it.”

She carried the ashtray to the adjoining bathroom, dumped the contents into the toilet and flushed. She turned on the water, dunked a washcloth in the basin and swiped the wet cloth over the dresser mirror. When every trace of the message was gone, she rinsed the washcloth under the faucet again. The water puddled in the sink and swirled down the drain like so much wasted blood.

Stephen was still standing in a corner when she stepped from the bathroom.

“I’m ready to go now.”

He made no reply as he put his arm around her waist and walked with her from the room.

Janet did not speak again until they were heading back toward the Point.

“We’ve got to stop by the sheriff’s office,” she said. “Lije has to know what’s happened.”

“Who do you think would do such a thing?” Stephen wondered aloud.

“Nobody with a lick of sense in their ugly head,” Janet said and pointed to the building beside the post office.

There was a ‘Town Hall’ sign over the door. Stephen pulled in and parked beside a sand-covered patrol car.

The wind coming in off the water was bitter and whipped up little dust devils that swirled around their legs. Janet stalked up the steps and pushed through the front door. Stephen was directly behind her. The building contained only two offices: The taxes and utilities office was on the right and no light shown through the glass panel in the door. A few paces down, on the left, a light glowed from the inside, illuminating the words on the glass: Elijah Wiley, Sheriff. Down in the corner, in smaller letters, were the words ‘Come In.’

Two men in the room looked up from the chessboard between them when Janet and Stephen walked in. A wide smile broke across the face of the older man.

“Well, I declare,” he said, getting to his feet. “Janet Lancaster.” He glanced at Stephen with a sheriff’s curiosity.

“Lije,” she said, “this is Stephen Prescott, a friend of mine from Middlebrook.”

Sheriff Wiley extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Prescott.” He gestured to his chess partner. “This is Alvie, my clerk and occasional deputy.”

Alvie raised his hand in a half-salute.

The sheriff glanced back at Janet. “What brings you young folks to the Point on such a blustery day?”

“It started out to be just a visit to
Heather Down
,” Janet said. “But it didn’t turn out that way.”

The sheriff looked concerned. “How’s that?”

“The house has been vandalized,” Stephen said.

The sheriff’s stare turned to granite. “Robbery?”

“Not that I noticed,” Janet said. “But I didn’t take the time to do an inventory. It seemed to be only Grandmother’s bedroom that suffered the insults and degradation. From the looks of things, it might’ve been an all-night dope smoking party. I cleaned everything up.”

“Janet!”

Janet dropped her eyes and threaded her fingers. “Lord, I didn’t stop to think. I’m sorry, Lije. I guess I ruined any evidence for you.”

“Want me to run out there and have a look around?” Alvie said. “Maybe I can pick up on something.”

“We’ll both go,” the sheriff said, snatching a tattered leather jacket from the wall hook. “I wonder how they got in? If I know Lettie and her crew, they left that place locked up tighter than an old maid’s corset.” He grinned at Janet. “No offense meant.”

“None taken, Lije.”

“Now Janet, don’t you worry, we’ll keep an eye on the place.” He slapped his hat against the side of his leg before squashing it onto his head. “Dopers,” he snorted. “By God, what’s this world coming to?”

“Do you need the key?” Janet asked as they all headed for the door.

“Got one,” the sheriff said. “Being a trustee for the estate, Ian Newkirk wanted to make sure that the house was checked on a fairly regular basis—you know lawyers—so he dropped off a key. But I sure as hell never figured I’d need it.”

Janet stood with Stephen and watched as the two men jumped into the patrol car. Gravel sprayed from beneath the tires and the spinning wheels left an angry wake of sand.

S
tephen dropped out of sight in the days following the incident at
Heather Down
. The familiar Mustang was missing from the parking lot, and Janet would have spent more time considering its whereabouts had she not been sidetracked by an unexpected event. Such a simple thing—the phone ringing.

It was nearly quitting time at the library. Sebastian had just pulled on his coat when he stopped to answer the phone.

“It’s for you, Janet,” he said, stuffing his fingers into worn woolen gloves and blowing her a kiss. “See you later.”

Janet waved and punched the blinking light. “Hello.”

“Who answered the phone?” the voice asked.

Janet felt a slight flutter in her chest, a severe weakness like an injured bird trying to take flight from danger.

“Who is this?”

“Jan, baby.” The familiar laugh was slightly edgy. “It’s me.”

Her throat closed up and her mouth went dry. She tried to speak, but no words came out.

He laughed again. “Surprised?”

She forced herself to swallow and her throat relaxed a bit. “A little,” she said.

“I don’t wonder. I’m afraid our last night together wasn’t very pleasant. And it was all my fault. But let’s not talk about the past. I need to see you, baby. There’s so much I have to say, so much to apologize for. I was a fool—an arrogant fool. I know that now. God, Jan.” His words seemed to tumble out, one on top of the other. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to pick up the phone and call—to hear your voice, maybe hear you laugh. I always loved your laughter.”

“But you didn’t call, did you, Adam?”

He offered no reply.

“Why didn’t you?”

Janet could hear his intake of breath. “Pride, I guess. But I’m here now. I’m here and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get you back. How ’bout it, baby? Can I drop by and see you?”

“Drop by from where?”

“At the lake—the marina. I’m aboard a boat that belongs to an old friend of the family. We just docked a few minutes ago, and I couldn’t wait to get to a phone.”

“How long are you here for?”

“I don’t know. I guess that more or less depends on you. How ’bout it, can I come by tonight?”

Janet frowned and rubbed her brow. Maybe his coming over would be a good thing. Perhaps then the past would be put behind her once and for all.

“Okay. Around eight.”

“Thanks, Jan. You won’t be sorry.”

We’ll see
, Janet thought. Her hand was shaking as she hung up the phone.

Later that evening, Janet did little in the way of getting ready for Adam’s visit. She felt no particular need to try to impress him. The time for that had passed. She smoothed a moisturizing stick over her dry lips before applying a light cranberry glaze. Butterflies congregated in the pit of her stomach and she wondered how she would feel seeing him again. Then the doorbell rang, and she pulled in a hurtful breath. The breath was long and deep and burned her lungs.

Janet opened the door. A sweep of feelings flooded her mind. Feelings, bittersweet and tasting of kisses and spring rain, rushed like a torrent, engulfing, threatening to drown her. He was more gorgeous than she remembered. Eyes flashed like neon and his teeth sparkled against the perfectly bronzed face. Hair the color of summer moonlight seemed to know exactly how to fall for the most dramatic effect.

“Jan, baby,” he said, stepping forward and grasping both her hands. His touch had not changed, it was still as luxurious as cashmere. “How I’ve dreamed about this moment.”

Janet pulled her hands away and stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans.

“Come in, Adam.”

He moved into the room, closed his eyes and lowered his head.

“Oh, my. The memories of you in this room.” His voice faltered. “The memories,” he whispered. He shook his head and turned to look at her. “You were right, you know. I was wrong to ask you to do something that clearly you were unable to do. Only after the passage of this last year did I realize that it wasn’t the money I wanted—it never was.” He smiled and Janet’s heart flipped over. “I think what I wanted was to see how far you’d go for me. I wanted to know just how much you really loved me.” He cupped his hands and stared at them. “I guess I was so insecure that I needed to know you’d do anything for me. Anything.”

“You were testing me?” Janet fought to keep her voice from becoming shrill. “You were playing a game to see how far you could get me to go, just to make you happy? Don’t you think that’s just a little on the tacky side, Adam?”

He took Janet’s hand and led her to the sofa.

“And selfish. Mostly selfish.” His green eyes misted. “I can’t ask you to forgive me. I wouldn’t do that. But I can promise it will never happen again—not as long as I live.”

His gaze held her captive until she broke the spell and pulled her eyes away. She needed to put space between them.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? A soda?”

He urged her back onto the cushion beside him.

“You’re all I need.” His fingertips feathered against her cheek and trembled down across her lips. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

Janet closed her eyes and her apparent acceptance of his touch seemed to encourage him to press her closer. She stiffened against the bold embrace.

“Adam, no,” she said. “You have no right to do this.”

Her unsteady hand brushed a stray curl from her face.

“I’m sorry baby, please forgive me.” Adam’s voice was heavy with contrition. “I knew seeing you again would affect me.” He gave a burst of nervous laughter. “I guess I just didn’t know how much.” He pulled himself upright on the sofa. “It won’t happen again. Now, is that offer of coffee still good?”

Janet jumped to her feet.

“Of course, it is,” she said. “Cream. No sugar?”

“You remembered.” His green eyes sparkled. “I’m flattered.”

Janet’s escape to the kitchen felt like an unsettling reprieve. She didn’t like what was happening, and what she was beginning to feel. After all, she reasoned to herself, she had seen this man in action before. She knew of his expertise in manipulation.
But people change
, she thought, remembering all the changes she had gone through in the last few months. Had Adam changed too? Only time would provide an answer to that question.

Back in the living room, Janet settled on the far end of the sofa and turned slightly to face him. She couldn’t quite believe he was here beside her.

“This seems so natural,” he said. “My being here, I mean.” He unfolded his long legs from beneath the table and crossed them. “By the way, you didn’t tell me who answered the phone when I called the library. I thought I knew all the voices, but I didn’t recognize that one.”

“We have a new employee,” Janet said without elaboration.

“Putting on extra help at Lancaster Memorial, are you? Things must be going pretty well.”

“He’s not extra help. He was hired to replace Hilda.”

“Hilda’s gone? I don’t believe it. I figured she’d be there until she died.”

“She was.”

“Was what?”

“There until she died.”

“You’re kidding. What happened?”

“She was struck by a car—a terrible accident. I’d rather not talk about it.” She reached for his cup. “Let me freshen your coffee. Can I get you something else? A bite to eat?”

Adam placed his hand on top of hers. “Speaking of eating, will you have dinner with me tonight? Let’s go back up to the Cobblestone Ordinary, Jan. Remember how we used to love going there, the nights we spent at our table in front of the fireplace?” He moved closer to her on the sofa. “Let’s go back. We’ll eat, we’ll dance to Kenny G’s old classics, and then we’ll come back here. It’ll be just like it was before—before I went away.”

Janet was afraid. “I don’t know, Adam.”

“Don’t doubt me, baby. My only desire now is to make up for the past. I promise, I will. Maybe someday you’ll trust me enough to allow me the honor of going to
Heather Down
to meet your grandmother.” He smiled. “I’d like that.”

Janet’s head jerked around. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Grandmother’s dead. She died several months ago.”

“I didn’t know.” He turned her hand over and touched his lips to the palm, then closed her fingers, sealing in the kiss. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”

“No.” A sudden mist clouded his eyes. “No.”

Janet nodded, accepting his sympathy.

“I’ve been out of touch this past year. I was down in the Bahamas for a while. But you know, no matter where I went I couldn’t get you out of my mind. And it’s been just these past few months that I had the almost unbearable feeling that you needed me. I had to come back, Jan. Do you understand?”

Janet sat in silence.
Did she understand?
Could she believe that in the space of time they’d been separated he had undergone this transformation—a metamorphosis? Could she let him again become important in her life? And Stephen. What about Stephen? She rubbed the tips of her fingers across her forehead to clear away the confusion.

“How about it?” He interrupted her thoughts. “Dinner?”

“Okay. But not tonight. It’s too late, and I’m not dressed.”

“Tomorrow night, then?”

Janet nodded.

Adam set his cup on the coffee table and touched her cheek lightly. “I need to go,” he said, giving her a smile that seemed to suggest more than he was saying out loud. “I really need to go now.”

Janet rose and took a step toward the front door. He seemed surprised that she was letting him leave. After hesitating for a moment, he followed. She placed her hand on the knob, but before she could turn the handle, he pulled her into his arms.

“Adam, don’t,” she said.

For a fleeting instant his green eyes shifted, a change that was so quickly gone that Janet wasn’t sure it had even happened. He smiled and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

“Good night, baby,” he said and went out the door.

After Janet cleared the coffee table, she sat down and pulled the phone into her lap. Automatically, she punched in the numbers.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“What’s up?”

“Adam was here.”

“I don’t believe it,” Chelsea huffed. “He wouldn’t have the nerve. Wonder how he managed to move the rock so he could crawl out?”

“I don’t know. But here he was, just out of the blue, calling and asking if he could come over.”

“And you said yes.”

Janet remained silent.

“And he looked gorgeous.”

“Give the little girl a prize.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Lordy, what a trusting soul you are.”

“Am I too trusting, Chelsea? Am I a simpleton to consider that he’s changed?”

“Simpleton? No. Innocent, maybe. Always looking for the best in people, definitely. But never could either of us be called simpletons.”

Janet laughed. “Thanks, I think.”

“What about Stephen?”

“What about him?”

“How did he take to
Heather Down
?”

“Like macaroni takes to cheese. He fell in love with the tower, the house, the grounds.” Janet laughed. “And he developed a terrific crush on that ratty old car in the carriage house.”

“And now he has competition, with Adam.”

Janet grimaced. “It’s not a contest. I don’t think anybody is in competition with anybody else, Chels. Besides, Stephen’s disappeared.”

Chelsea laughed. “Well, naturally. People around you come and go so quickly.”

“Like Munchkin Land? Only this is not Oz. This is my life.”

“And you’re still going out with Adam?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Be careful, Janet.”

“Goodnight.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Later, Janet lay in the dark, her mind busy sorting out the pieces and trying to make sense of the jigsaw puzzle that was her life. Slowly, sleep overtook her brain, smoothing out the wrinkled brow and her face relaxed in repose. Her sleep was deep and easy until the ringing of the phone jarred her awake. She groped for the receiver in the dark.

“You were sleeping,” the voice whispered.

“Of course, I was sleeping. What do you want now?”

“Just wanted to wish you goodnight.”

“What? No riddles?”

“Not tonight. My only concern is for you—and naturally for your continued good health and happiness.” The voice was emotionless. “Go back to sleep now, back to the long corridors of darkness where dreams are nothing but deceptive shadows. There’s danger in shadows, you know—false shadows and true light.” There was a dramatic pause. “The trick is to tell which is which.” The voice dropped, becoming more ominous. “And you can expect no prince to rescue you. But I’ll be here, and I’ll be watching, and believe me, I’m no prince.”