The Book of James (40 page)

I fell asleep again—but it wasn’t a normal sleep, it was more like I slipped from consciousness on top of the old bag of peat moss.

Sometime later, the sound of the door opening woke me up. I was

momentarily confused and I jumped up, startled, and backed into

the wal . Cora came in and shut the door behind her. She shined a flashlight in my eyes, and I raised my hand to block the light. She was alone this time.

“I see you’re awake. Good.” She was calm and steady.

“Why am I here?” My voice was ragged, and it surprised me

when I heard it come from my lips.

She motioned for me to sit. I dropped to the floor with my

back to the wal .

“Tell me about your relationship with my son.” She held the

light on me as she spoke. It was then that I noticed the bottle of water in her hand. Evian. It was cold. I could see the condensa-tion on the bottle. It was all I could do not to jump up and grab it from her.

“Can I have some water?” I squinted up at her.

She shook her head. “Talk first.”

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My head was pounding and my throat burned. “What do you

want to know?”

“What happened that day he died? What he told you. At the

hospital.”

I tried not to think about the fact that I was being held captive, that my nose was throbbing, that this woman was insane. She had

a bottle of water, and if giving her the details of my marriage would get me a drink, I’d do what she asked.

“He was talking about this house. They’d given him morphine,

so everything he said was jumbled. Paths in the woods. A swim-

ming hole. He said something terrible had happened here. Now

can I have some water?” The light was in my face.

“What were you looking for here?” She didn’t waver.

“I came here because of the letter from William McBride. The

will.”She gave a half laugh. “Yes, you came for the money, but then you stayed. You came to me. Looking for me. What else did Nick

tell you?” Her voice was growing more strident. She stepped

toward me. “When he was lying on that stretcher dying, what else

did he tell you?”

My mind was reeling. “That I had to come here.”

“He wanted you to find me.” She was hidden in the darkness,

but I could feel those hard green eyes on me.

“No. I don’t know. He didn’t tell me that directly. And I thought it was just crazy talk until I got the letter from McBride.”

I heard nothing for a few minutes. Then her voice was there

again. Softer. “You loved him?”

“Yes.” My head was down so that the light didn’t blind me.

“He was my little boy.” She said this simply. After she was silent for a minute, I glanced up to be sure she was still there. The movement seemed to bring her back from wherever she’d gone in her

memories. “You’ve been very busy since you’ve been here,” she

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said. She moved back a little and leaned against the far wal . “Tell me what you’ve found.”

I stood up. “This is enough, Cora. Why are you holding me

here? What is it that you want?” I looked up into her eyes, and it made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Two hateful, hard, cruel, knowing eyes stared back at me.

“Have you been looking through my house? Nick’s room? Did

you go through my desk drawers in my office?” The singsong into-

nation of her voice made my stomach knot. All the time, she had

known what I was doing. “Harrison was up in the office that day.

Did you know that? Did you find what you were looking for?”

Suddenly I was angry. “No, I didn’t. So why don’t you tell me

what happened to Nick’s brother.” The words flew out. If I was

going to die here, at least I’d fight back. I glanced around me, prepared for a confrontation. She had the advantage. At least sixty

pounds, a good night’s sleep, and a decent meal.

“Nick’s brother.” The flashlight swayed in her hand. I kept my

eyes on the water bottle. “And what right do you have to dig up old business?”

“You think Nick sent me here to find you? No—it was to find

his brother. James. Those were his final words! He never men-

tioned you.”

I saw a quick flash of her hand but didn’t see the object fly

across the room until it hit me under my left eye. I screamed and dropped to the floor, my face near my knees.

“Pick it up.” She was standing next to me. I kept my head down

and rocked back and forth. “Pick it up,” she said again. I looked at the ground around me.

“What is it?” I asked.

Cora didn’t answer but shined the light at the dirt floor until

I saw the wad of paper about five feet from me. I crawled to it and took it. There was something solid inside.

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“Open it.” My hands were dirty and red, covered in my blood. I

pulled at the corners of the paper. “You tell me what it is,” she said.

My throat closed and I couldn’t breathe for a second. It was the

missing piece of check wrapped around my wedding ring. I leaned

over and gagged, though it was for nothing. My stomach was long

empty. She had been there that night, watching Dylan and me out-

side of his house. When he’d taken off the ring and kissed me. She knew everything.

“And that’s how much you loved your husband?”

I couldn’t say anything. I put my head down to protect my face

and continued to rock. Tears fell from my face onto my hands. The pain around my nose was searing, and in that instant I was sure I was going to die.

“I do believe you deserve some water, Mackenzie.”

I felt the rush of iciness on my head, but it was too late. She

had poured half the bottle over me. She screwed the cap back on

and walked to the door without a word. The door banged shut and

she was gone.

I licked the moisture from my hands and arms. She had

reduced me to nothing more than an animal. Chil s wracked

me—I had to get out of my clothes. The only sound I could hear

was my own teeth chattering.

I pushed myself to my feet, trying to remember the room from

when I had been here before. I closed my eyes and concentrated.

I could see the dimensions in my mind. I saw the two doors, the

tools, the bags of lime and peat.

I moved toward the far-right corner of the room. There had

been plastic and burlap among the tools when I was here before.

It was the kind of stuff that you would use to protect plants in the winter. I pulled my shirt over my head and pulled off my jeans. I shuddered. The air around me was dank and frigid. The burlap was

filthy. Sandy grit clung to my skin when I wrapped it around me,

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but it provided some warmth. I pulled the plastic sheet behind me and went to find a soft place to sit.

Cora’s relationship with her son was so twisted, I don’t think

she knew if she wanted to be his mother or his lover. I could have left when I had the chance—but even that wouldn’t have ensured

my safety. She could have followed me wherever I went. At least

I had orchestrated my own demise. I had chosen to stay; I had

made my own decisions. I didn’t run back to Maine, oblivious to

everything, to spend my money in ignorance and greed, only to

be killed by Cora at her choosing. I had given her a run for her

money. That was some small measure of comfort. I pulled the plas-

tic over me and tried to slow my thoughts. My emotions vacil ated between pure panic, anger, and apathy. I couldn’t let panic or apathy win before I figured a way out of this.

Fingers moved roughly against my skin. I opened my eyes to see

Harrison Cooper’s face near mine. He was taking my pulse. He saw

me looking at him before I could open my mouth.

“You’re okay,” he said simply, as if this were the most normal

situation in the world. “Your nose is broken and you’re dehydrated, but you’ll live.”

My eyes scanned the room. He was alone.

“Sit up,” he added.

I did as he asked. The plastic and burlap fell to the side, and I realized I was sitting in my underwear.

“My clothes were wet. She poured water on me but didn’t let

me drink any,” I said by way of explanation.

Modesty should have dictated that I cover myself, but I didn’t

have the energy. He was holding only a small penlight, similar to the one I had used myself, so I didn’t see the blanket until he covered me with it. Then he handed me a bottle of water.

“Drink it slowly,” he warned.

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I didn’t listen. I pulled off the cap and chugged. Water cas-

caded over my tongue and ignited a greed for more. I tipped the

bottle as far as it would go until Harrison took it from me.

“Easy. You’ll get sick. Sip it.” He handed it back to me.

“Why are you doing this?”

His eyes met mine and I saw that he was weary. “I have no

choice.”

“You have a choice. Let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“And you’re willing to go to jail for murder?”

A smal , sarcastic laugh escaped his lips. “You have no idea.

Drink some water. I need to take the bottle with me.”

“No.” I held it to me. There was still a quarter of a bottle left, and it was cold.

“I can’t leave it here, Mackenzie. If she knows I brought it to

you, I won’t be able to come here alone again. The blanket is one thing, but the water is something else altogether.”

“How can you stand by and let her do this? What is wrong

with you?”

He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s very complicated.”

“What’s she going to do with me? Kill me like she killed James?”

He looked startled by my words. “She’s angry right now. I’m

hoping she’ll calm down enough to listen to reason. That’s why I

brought you the water. I don’t want you to die before she comes to her senses.”

“Are you listening to yourself?”

He stood up. “It’s so complicated . . . you see, you know too

much. That’s part of it. I don’t know how to get around that.”

“But I don’t. I know that Nick had a brother who disappeared.

Cora probably killed him, but I don’t have any proof of that, and I have no idea why she hated him. Nick probably knew, but he

never told me anything. She wanted me dead long before I set foot in Philadelphia, so my being here in this room has nothing to do

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with what I know.” I said it all in one long breath and then took a sip of water.

Harrison held the small light to the side so that it shined on

the ground. “It started so long ago, before you were married to

Nick, before you were even born. You’re just an unfortunate casu-

alty. But you’re right that she wants you . . . let’s just say, out of the way. Once she found Nick, she wasn’t thinking rational y. She wanted him home, and he wouldn’t come. Then she became furious and blamed you.”

“So sending pictures and letters to our house, that was the

answer?” I shook my head. “Wouldn’t that make him run even fur-

ther away?”

Harrison surprised me by taking a seat near me on another

bag of peat. “You didn’t real y know your husband, did you? Cora

and he had this bond. They were connected. Like different parts

of the same person. He’d cut off all contact. He couldn’t talk to her because he knew it would start all over again. He knew it. And it
was
starting again, even with just a few letters between them. This was where he belonged. And it’s a very hard place to escape from

once you’re here. I know that for a fact.”

“Is this the bul shit that Cora’s been filling your head with?

You’re all insane. He may have come back here, I don’t know, but

there’s no way he would’ve stayed. No way. Not unless Cora locked him in one of these rooms. And this is all empty speculation, anyway. Nick is dead—but I’m not. Are you going to stand by and let

her kill me too?”

Harrison rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Maybe

the best I can do is convince her to keep you here. But at least you’ll be alive.”

A chill ran up my spine. “Keep me here for how long? For the

rest of my life?” I looked at the smal , damp room. “Kill me now.”

“I tried to help you.” His voice was soft.

“Real y? How? I don’t see it.”

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“I left that darkroom door open for you. Every time she locked

it, I’d open it again. Cora thought it was Ginny. I knew you were in her office, hiding in the closet. Did I pull you out?” I thought about it. “I could have put an end to your visits with my sister. Did I?”

“But why? Why would you help me?”

“Guilt has taken its tol . I can’t protect her anymore. I thought maybe you’d help us resolve this, put her obsession with Nick to

rest. But now it’s too late.”

I nursed my water in tiny sips. God knew when I’d get any

more. “It’s not too late.”

“The fact that you’re sitting down here means it’s too late.”

I had to keep him talking, try to figure out a plan. “You and

Cora have been close for a long time.”

He nodded, his eyes staring vacantly. “Cora was a different

person back then. Kind. Beautiful.”

“Ginny said she was always strange.”

“Her father made her strange. But she was different with me.

I . . . I understood her. I saw it al . Sometimes from a distance.

And . . .” His voice trailed off. “Sometimes from too close.”

“Did Cora even like Bradford?”

He looked at me. “That wasn’t important. She real y didn’t

have a choice. She tried to put off the marriage, but her father gave her a deadline. But we couldn’t stop.”