Sometime Yesterday (26 page)

Van grabbed her keys and raced for the driveway. She had to find her.

*

Natalie’s primal scream pulled her into a spinning vortex where sight and sounds sped by in an instant.

“Stop hitting my mommy!”

Natalie was still dizzy, but she clearly heard the little tearful voice. Henry? Turning toward the sound, she saw a small boy running. He threw himself on Richard’s back and began to beat his tiny fists on his head. Richard stood from his crouch with the little boy still attached.

Beth lay on her back on the floor. She reached out a shaky hand, pleading with Richard. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s just a little boy.”

He roared for the nanny. She came running out of the nursery with her little white hat askew. When she reached them, Richard plucked Henry off his back and thrust him at her.

“Mommy’s been bad, and I have to punish her.”

Henry reached out his little arms to his mother. “Come with me, Mama.”

“Go with Nanny, Henry. Mama will be in later to tuck you in.”

Natalie watched the boy being led quickly down the hallway, but he kept looking over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off his mother.

Beth painfully tried to get her knees underneath her. She hung her head and Natalie watched bright red spots drop onto the hardwood floor. Richard yanked her to her feet by her hair. “You will not turn my son against me.” He shook her.

“You do that all on your own, Richard.” Beth’s eyes were dry and her face calm while she spoke freely. “It is you and your actions that breed the hate in this house.”

Natalie watched her stand straight and tall. “You will die alone and unloved, haunted by your evil deeds.” Beth’s expression seemed to shoot fire at Richard, and in an act of complete never-seen-before defiance, she spit her blood into his face.

Richard tilted his head to the side, staring at her blankly until his mouth split into an evil grin. He laughed, big, rolling bellows, and slapped the sides of his legs. Suddenly, he stopped, the smile disappeared, and his cold eyes looked calculating. “Sarah asked for you.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket.

Beth’s face radiated with desperate hope. “Sarah?”

“Right before…” He leaned in and grabbed her by the back of the neck and hissed in her ear, “I killed her.” He threw a lock of long brown hair at her.

“What did you just say?” Beth shook her head and crossed her arms over her stomach.

Richard started steering her toward the bedroom. “Conversation is over.”

“No!” Screams bubbled out of Beth’s throat. One after the other, the shrieks of denial rang through the hallways and echoed back. “You bastard!”

Richard backhanded her in an effort to silence her, but it had no effect. Beth tore into him with her nails and teeth. He grunted in surprise but quickly overpowered her and threw her back onto the floor, then stood over her prone body.

Beth lay on her back for a few moments before slowly and painfully getting back on her feet. She threw her head back and screamed one last time then went eerily silent. Her cheek was rapidly swelling and Natalie could see the blood that pooled in the corners of her mouth. Beth looked utterly calm. She looked in the direction her son had gone and pressed her fingers to lips, blowing a gentle kiss.

“Sarah never left me.” Beth pressed herself against the wall, took a deep breath, picked up the hem of her dress, and in three strides, threw herself over the balcony in a swan dive, still clutching the lock of Sarah’s hair.

Richard loped down the stairs, whistling under his breath. Natalie rushed to the railing, horrified to see Beth crumpled and broken in the foyer, blood already pooling beneath her body. When she saw Richard unceremoniously grab Beth under her arms and drag her to the front door, her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

*

Van drove for an hour and a half along the coast before she came to her senses and stopped on the side of the Interstate. What would she do when she reached the gallery Natalie was headed to? It was simple enough to find the address, but it would be the middle of the night by the time she got there. Was she going to sit outside until it opened? She had no idea where Natalie would be staying and couldn’t reach Mary to ask.

Van pounded her steering wheel, frustrated that she’d have to turn around and wait. Patience was not one of her virtues, especially when she felt she needed to fix something. Her stomach twisted when she thought of how hurt Natalie must have felt when Candy showed up at the house.

She wondered if it was karma for the way she’d casually used and discarded women in the past. Yes, she was honest and told them upfront she wasn’t interested in a relationship, but deep down, she knew that she’d hurt a few along the way. Van had justified and rationalized her behavior for years, using her grief as a weapon and excuse for her actions. She hadn’t considered anyone else’s feelings but her own.

Van turned her truck around at the next rest stop and headed home with guilt and shame riding shotgun beside her.

*

Natalie raised her head and realized that she had been sleeping at the kitchen table. She looked around—her own table, in her own time, thank God. Her back was stiff and her neck hurt. A fire burned in the hearth, but she knew she hadn’t started one.

“Look at you. You’re pathetic. You’re an
unnatural
bitch just like those two whores.”

Natalie whipped her body toward the sound of his voice. She instantly felt her temper snap, her hate dismissing the fear that threatened to close her throat. “Well,
Gramps
, you’re a sadistic, murdering
asshole.
”

Richard’s red eyes bored into her and he let out a short bark of laughter. “They deserved it. Didn’t or wouldn’t know their place at a man’s feet.”

Natalie was exhausted and just wanted all of this to be over. “What is it that you want? Why don’t you just stay dead and rot in hell where you belong?” He snapped his fingers and the fire went out, leaving the kitchen in total darkness. Natalie felt her heart jump then stutter before it began speeding. She strained to hear any sounds coming from the corner where she last saw Richard.

Pain exploded into white light when she felt the blow hit the side of her head.

Natalie woke up slowly, aware she had a bitch of a headache. Fucker hit her! Then she remembered witnessing both Beth’s and Sarah’s deaths and was overwhelmed with a sadness that made breathing difficult.

When she opened her eyes it was pitch-black and she started to panic when she couldn’t see her hands in front of her face. She tried to sit only to hit her head and fall back.

What the—

She reached again and after a quick inspection, she was terrified to find she was trapped, and began to pound her fists on the wood, screaming for someone to let her out.

The fall hadn’t killed Beth; Richard must have buried her alive. Natalie gasped, in her mind, the air was already gone and she started to choke. Natalie could smell the wet earth outside the box, could feel the splinters under her nails as she desperately tried to claw her way out of this vividly real nightmare. She kicked her feet and fought the space until the lack of oxygen affected her motor skills, slowing her down until finally, she lay still.

*

Van slammed back into her own house with a bang. After driving for three hours on her impulsive tangent, she’d parked outside Natalie’s and stared at the dark windows and empty driveway for another forty-five minutes.

When had she become this irrational? Natalie had just come into her life, but Van was close enough to yesterday’s memories of her cardboard half-life, that the thought of losing her already scared her. Telling herself it was all a simple misunderstanding didn’t help smooth her agitation so she paced the floors until finally, some time later, she sat on the couch and willed the phone to ring.

When dawn broke and the early orange light filled her living room, Van realized she’d fallen asleep. After she started the coffee, she checked both of her phones, but there was no call from Natalie on either.

Anger started to burn under the hurt she was feeling. Since when did she put up with this shit? Van liked never having to explain herself; she did what she wanted, when she wanted. The hell with it, she thought. Natalie was off on a jealous huff on only another woman’s word? How high school was that? It was an ugly reminder of why she avoided relationships. They didn’t do anything but hurt in the end.

Van would work with the scheduled crew at Natalie’s today so they could finish the job and she could get on with her life, without complications.

Such as it was.

Van was the first to arrive at Natalie’s and immediately grabbed a shovel to dig out an area for the new fountain where the old one once stood. Maybe she could finish installing it before she arrived home and Van wouldn’t have to see her at all. Hell with it, she didn’t owe her any explanations, she hadn’t done anything wrong.

The longer Van was there the more uneasy she became and she shivered in the early morning air. Van began digging in an effort to get her blood pumping. The physical labor warmed her but left her mind free to run. Who did Natalie think she was anyway, sneaking past her defenses? She didn’t need her, Van didn’t need anyone, she’d made certain of it.

She stomped the shovel into the dirt and the memory of Natalie crying in the rain came forward and hit her in the stomach. Just who was she trying to convince? She loved Natalie and would beg on her knees if she had to in order to get Natalie to listen. Van dug faster out of pure frustration, willing herself to work harder, not to think, and especially—not feel.

When her crew arrived, Van directed them to the trees that still needed trimming along the drive and various areas that needed prep work for the new plants and new sod that was to be arriving later in the afternoon.

Rick jumped in with her and they continued to dig until her back muscles screamed with the effort she used to swing her shovel. An hour later, he called “uncle” over his shoulder and climbed out of the hole.

“Christ, we digging to China or what?”

Van looked around. She had been so focused she hadn’t realized how deep they were. She pulled herself up beside him and they trailed their legs into the space, resting for a minute.

She cast an eye over to the fountain. Five feet across, the bowl was shiny black granite with fluted edges. Rising from the center was a thick black stem, and at the top, three beautiful irises in full bloom from which streams of water would arc in graceful curves and return to the center. Natalie would love it.
Please come home.

One of the guys came by and threw a couple of water bottles at them. Van took a long drink from the bottle and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her critical eye found an uneven patch in the hole; she wanted the dirt perfectly level for the large granite base.

She jumped back in and picked up her shovel. The tip of the blade hit something solid, jarring her arms to her shoulder blades. She tried again with the same results. What the hell was it?

“We’re going to get some lunch,” Rick said.

Van rolled her eyes at him. If they only knew how haunted the house was, they’d never come back. “Go ahead.” She waved him off. “We’ll finish this afterward.”

She walked around the side of the house and noticed a large hole with a pile of rocks by the back porch. “What’s up with this?” she asked Leo.

“I was digging out the flower bed and ran into them. Do you think they were trying to shore up the foundation?”

“Could be. I’ll take a look. Take your lunch break; we’ll figure it out.”

After he left, Van puzzled over the placement of the rocks, the foundation, and the position of the hole. Something was nagging at her conscious. She turned another stone and glimpsed wood. Her stomach sank and she quickly moved two more to reveal an old door that used to swing upward. Van found the handle and pulled; the aged wood crumbled in her grip then fell apart to reveal small stone stairs that led into the darkness.

The smell of mildew and ancient dirt hit her and she backed up a few steps. Van recalled Natalie telling her that Richard had locked Sarah in the root cellar. Now that she thought about it, these old houses usually had two entrances to the area, one accessible from the kitchen and another from outside.

She quickly ran back to her truck to get her flashlight and returned, praying she wasn’t going to find what she thought she might. The air was stale and Van kept her breathing shallow, keeping the light directly in front of her as she descended the stairs.

She heard skittering noises around her and tried not to imagine what kind of spiders could make that sound. When she reached the bottom, she swept the small dank room with her light. It appeared to be completely empty but for a pile of rags in the corner. Van’s body felt heavier with each step she took toward it, but she knew she had to see and crouched next to the small mound. Van blew to dislodge the loose dirt that settled on the surface, sneezing violently when it came back in her face.

When the dust settled, Van’s scream lodged in her throat and she gagged. Two empty eye sockets stared back at her. She fell back on her ass, recovered herself, then quickly moved away from the skeleton, rushing back into the sunlight and fresh air.