Remember Me (36 page)

Numbly she obeyed. In a quick gesture, he ripped her sweater over her head and pulled it free, first of her left hand and then the right. Dropping the sweater on the ground, he grasped her arm and forced her down the path that led to the bluff and then to the sea. Tomorrow, with the torrents of rain, there wouldn't be a trace of his footsteps.

They'll find my sweater, Menley thought, and think I committed suicide. Would her body wash in? Vivian's had. Maybe they were counting on that. Adam. Adam, I need you.

The waves were slashing against the shore. The undertow would pull her down and out to sea, and she wouldn't have a chance. She stumbled as he hurried
her down the steep path. Try as she might, she could not pull away from his viselike grip.

The full force of the storm struck them as they reached the place where only yesterday she had lounged on a blanket with Adam and Hannah. Now there was no beach, only the waves, breaking upon the land, eroding it, hungry to reclaim it.

“I'm really sorry, Menley,” Scott Covey said. “But drowning isn't that bad. It only took Vivy a minute or so. Just relax. It'll be over soon.”

He pushed her into the water and, crouching, held her under the angry surf.

A
dam saw the flickering candlelight in the kitchen as he rushed into the house. Finding no one there, he grabbed a flashlight and raced up the stairs.

“Menley,” he shouted as he ran into the nursery. “Menley!”

He shone the light around the room.

“Oh God,” Adam cried as the beam reflected on the china face of the antique doll.

And then a whimper came from behind him. He turned and played the light around the room until it found the gently rocking cradle. Hannah was there! Thank God! he thought. Hannah was all right!

But Menley—

Adam turned and ran to their bedroom. It was empty. He raced down the stairs and went from room to room.

Menley was gone!

It wasn't like Menley to leave Hannah alone. She would never do that. But she wasn't in the house!

What had happened? Had she heard Bobby's voice again? He knew he shouldn't have let her watch that tape. Shouldn't have left her alone.

Outside! She must have gone outside! Frantically, Adam rushed to the front door and opened it. The rain drenched him immediately as he stepped outside and began calling to her. “Menley!” he cried. “Menley, where are you?”

He raced across the front lawn, headed toward the path to the beach. Slipping in the heavy, wet grass, he fell. The flashlight flew out of his hand and disappeared over the edge.

The beach! She couldn't have gone down there, he thought frantically. Still he had to look. She had to be somewhere.

“Menley,” he called out again. “Menley, where are you?”

He reached the path and clambered and slid down it. Below him the surf was roaring, while all about him was darkness. And then a bright flash of lightning illuminated the angry ocean.

Suddenly he saw her, her body surfacing on the crest of a huge wave.

M
enley had to will herself not to panic. She had held her breath until her lungs were bursting, forced her body to go limp when she was wild to struggle. She felt the water surging about them, Covey's strong hands holding her, pressing her down. And then he let her go. Quickly she turned her head, gulping air. Why had he released her? Did he think she was dead? Was he still there?

Then suddenly she understood. Adam! She heard Adam, calling out to her. Calling her name!

She started to swim just as a wave crashed over her. Momentarily stunned, she felt herself being pulled out by the powerful undertow.

Oh God, she thought, don't let me drown. Choking and gasping, she tried to tread water. The mountainous waves were everywhere, pulling her, sucking her down, tossing her forward. She forced herself to hold her breath when the water closed over her, to fight her way back up to the surface. Her only hope was to get into a cresting wave that would carry her back to land.

She swallowed more water, then flailed her arms and legs. Don't panic, she thought. Get into a wave.

She felt a surge building behind her, lifting her body up to the surface.

Now! she thought. Now! Swim! Fight! Don't let it pull you back.

Suddenly a bright flash of lightning illuminated everything around her—the sea, the bluff. Adam! There was Adam, sliding down the steep path toward her.

As the thunder crashed around her, she threw her body into the wave and rode it toward the shore, toward Adam.

He was only a few feet away from her as she felt the strong pull of the undertow drawing her back.

Then he was with her, his arm firmly around her, pulling her back to the shore.

A
t eleven o'clock Amy and her father were saying good night to Elaine. The evening had been less than successful. Elaine had rehashed with Amy the importance of never taking anything without permission, and certainly never giving that object to another person. Her father had agreed, but she had gone on about it until even he had said, “I think we've milked this subject dry, Elaine.”

They had been late eating dinner because the electricity failed for more than an hour, and the roast wasn't done. As they were finally finishing dessert, Elaine brought up Menley Nichols again.

“You must understand that Adam is very worried about Menley. She's in a state of serious depression, and seeing the tape of her little boy might upset her terribly, plus she's alone for two nights. That's a big worry for Adam.”

“I don't think she's depressed,” Amy said. “She was sad when she watched the tape, but we talked about it, and Mrs. Nichols said that you should be grateful when you've had the chance to love someone wonderful, even if you didn't have them very long. She told me that her mother always said she'd rather have been married to her father for twelve years than to someone else for seventy years.”

Then Amy looked at her father and added, “I certainly agree with her.” With some satisfaction she saw a flush come over his face. She was hurt and irritated at him for taking Elaine's part so vehemently about the tape. But then, I guess that's how it's going to be from now on, she thought.

Conversation throughout the entire meal had been strained. Plus Elaine seemed awfully nervous. Even Amy's father had noticed it. Finally he asked her if anything was wrong.

That was when Elaine dropped a bombshell. “John, I've been thinking,” she said. “I believe we should delay the wedding for a while. I want it to be perfect for us, and that's just not going to be possible while Amy is clearly so unhappy.”

You don't give a damn whether I'm happy or unhappy, Amy thought. I bet there's more to it than that. “Elaine, as you've said all summer, in another few weeks I'm going to be in college and starting my own adult life. You're marrying my father, not me. My only concern is my father's happiness, and that should be your concern as well.”

Elaine's bombshell had come just as they were about to leave. Amy liked the dignified way her dad
said, “I think this is something that you and I should talk about at another time, Elaine. I'll call you tomorrow.”

When Elaine opened the front door, they saw a police car with its lights flashing pulling up in her driveway. “What can be wrong?” Elaine asked.

Amy sensed something odd about Elaine's voice. It sounded strained, as though she were frightened.

*   *   *

Nat Coogan got out of the squad car and paused for a moment, looking at Elaine Atkins as she stood in the doorway. He had just gotten home when the call came from the station. Scott Covey had gone to Morris Island and tried to murder Adam Nichols' wife. He had run away when Nichols showed up and had been caught at a roadblock on Route 6.

Now it was Nat Coogan's extreme pleasure to be the one to arrest Elaine Atkins. Ignoring the pelting rain, he went up the walk and stepped onto the porch. “Miss Atkins,” he said. “I have a warrant for your arrest. I'll read you your rights, and then I'll have to ask you to please come along with me.”

Amy and her father stared at Elaine as her face drained of all color. “That's ridiculous,” she said, her voice shocked and angry.

Nat pointed to the driveway. “Scott Covey is in that car. We're just taking him in. He was so sure of himself, he told Menley Nichols the whole story of your interesting deal with him and all about how you wanted her out of the way so you could have Adam Nichols to yourself. You're just lucky that Covey didn't succeed in drowning her. This way you'll only have to face charges of attempted murder. But you will need a good lawyer, and I don't think you'd better count on Adam Nichols to defend you.”

John Nelson gasped. “Elaine, what's going on? What's he talking about? Nat, surely you're—”

“Oh, shut up, John!” Elaine snapped. She looked at him with contempt.

There was a long silence while they stared at each other. Then Amy felt her father take her arm. “Come on, honey,” he said, “we've been around here long enough. Let's go home.”

W
hen Menley awoke on Thursday morning, sunbeams were bouncing off the windowsill, darting over the wide-planked floor. Her mind filled with memories of last night and quickly skipped to the moment when she knew she was safe, when they reached the house, and Adam had called the police while she ran to Hannah.

After the police finally left and they were alone, they took turns holding each other and holding Hannah. Then, both too weary to even think about eating, they brought the cradle into their room, unable to leave Hannah alone in the nursery until the storage area was cleaned out and permanently sealed.

Menley looked around. Adam and Hannah were still sleeping. Her eyes moved from one to the other, marveling at the miracle of being with them, of knowing that she was strong and whole.

I can go on with my life, she thought. Mehitabel and Andrew never had a second chance.

The police had looked into the storage area last night, saying they would be back to photograph it for evidence in the trials. They had examined the skeleton also. The silver buckles resting among the foot bones bore the initials T.K. Tobias Knight.

The side of the skull was caved in, as if by a heavy blow. My guess is that Captain Freeman had surprised Tobias here, Menley mused, and learning, or guessing, the true reason for his late-night visits to the house, struck him down for fostering the lie that had destroyed Mehitabel. Then he left the body here with the stolen cargo. He must have surmised the truth of his wife's innocence. We know he was out of his mind with grief when he sailed into the storm.

Phoebe and I were right. Mehitabel was innocent. She died protesting that fact and longing for her baby. When I write her story I'm going to put Phoebe's name on it too. It was the story she wanted so much to tell.

She felt Adam's arm go around her.

He turned her toward him. “Did I mention last night that you're a terrific swimmer?” he asked. Then the light tone disappeared from his voice. “Men, when I think that I was so obtuse about everything and that you almost died because of me, I could kill myself.”

She put her finger on his lips. “Don't ever say that. When you told me there was no train whistle in the tape of Bobby, I began to suspect that something was going on. But you didn't know what I had been hearing, so I can't blame you for thinking I was crazy.”

Hannah began to stir. Menley reached down and picked her up, bringing her into the bed with them. “Quite a night, wasn't it, Toots?” she asked.

*   *   *

Nat Coogan phoned as they were finishing breakfast. “I hate to bother you people, but we're having a struggle keeping the media away. Would you consider talking to them after our people finish the investigation?”

“We'd better,” Adam replied. “Tell them we need a little more time to ourselves, then we'll see them at two o'clock.”

Moments later, however, the phone rang again—a television station wanting to set up an interview. That call was followed by others, so many that they finally disconnected the phone, plugging it in only long enough for Menley to call Jan Paley, the Spragues and Amy.

When she hung up from her last call, she was smiling. “Amy sounds like a different person,” she said. “Her dad keeps telling her that he wished he had half her common sense. I told her I feel the same way. She knew all along that Elaine was a phony.”

“A very dangerous phony,” Adam said quietly.

“Amy wants to baby-sit for us tomorrow night—for free! Her dad's paying for the whole car.”

“We'll take her up on it. How is Phoebe doing?”

“Henry told her that we were safe and he was proud of her for trying to warn us. He's sure that she might have understood a little of what he was saying.” Menley paused. “I'm so sorry for them.”

“I know.” Adam put his arm around her.

“And Jan's coming over. She said she would bring lunch makings and offered to pick up the mail, so I took her up on it.”

*   *   *

When the police arrived to photograph the hidden room, Adam and Menley took chairs and Hannah's carriage out to the bluff. The water was calm now, and inviting, with gentle waves breaking on a shore that was in surprisingly good shape, considering the severity
of the storm the night before. Menley knew that from now on, if she dreamed about that night, the dream would always end with Adam's hand closing over hers.

She looked back at the house and up at the widow's walk. The metal on the chimney was gleaming, the sunbeams bouncing off it through the shifting shadows cast by occasional clouds. Did that really cause an optical illusion that day Amy thought she saw me? she wondered.

“What are you thinking?” Adam asked.