Wicked Forest (47 page)

"It's over." she said. "We've only got to have it stamped, sealed, and delivered. I don't usually congratulate my clients on their successful divorces.

It's like complimenting someone for a good funeral, but in your case... congratulations, Willow."

I thanked her, and ran to tell Linden. He listened with that stone-faced expression of his, then said, "Good. Let's think of him as dead."

"We don't have to go that far, Linden. After all, he is still Hannah's father."

"In name only," he declared. "After she's born.

I'll help her to forget him."

He said it with such intensity, he actually frightened me.

"It's better we let all of our anger and negative energy go, Linden. I don't want to bring up my daughter in a house full of rage."

He softened.

"Of course not," he said. "I'll always think of Hannah's interests first. Always."

"Good." I smiled. "Why don't we take Miguel lip on his offer now and celebrate?"

"We could do that ourselves. here. I'll make something special." "No, we should go out and have a good time. Linden. We can have another dinner to celebrate by ourselves afterward. okay?"

With reluctance, he nodded, and turned back to his work in the kitchen.

I hurried to call Miguel,

"That's wonderful. Willow. It's changing. I can feel it. Everything's changing for the better for you.

I'll make our reservations right now, and we'll go tomorrow night. I'll be by to pick up both of you about seven."

"Thank you, Miguel."

Dared I believe him? Was it all changing for the better? With more bounce in my steps than they'd had for some time. I returned to the dining room where Linden was setting out our dinner and told him about our plans to go to Miguel's family's restaurant.

He nodded, still not looking enthusiastic about it.

You want to celebrate with me, don't you, Linden?" I asked him.

"Of course," he replied. "We'll celebrate. I promise."

He went into the kitchen and returned with our dinner. It was a very tasty pasta dish. He had actually become quite a good cook and always presented the food with an artistic flair. He wouldn't let me have any wine, reminding me that alcohol wasn't good for a pregnant woman, not even one glass, contrary to what some doctors said. He went into one of his lectures about prenatal care. I let him go on and on, reminding

-myself that at least he was involving himself in something besides his dark art. In a way, he was out of his introverted shell and for that. I concluded. I had to be grateful,

As I ate and he talked. I felt myself growing more and more tired. Lately. I wasn't sleeping as well as I should, and even with Linden rushing about to make sure I didn't do anything strenuous. I was working at keeping the house in somewhat decent shape and appearance. Tomorrow, I vowed, tomorrow I would call one of the agencies and start to interview prospective housekeepers. What I feared was that Maw and Joan might have spread stories about Linden and what it was like working here. That could keep good candidates from applying.

Before dinner was over. I found it more

difficult than ever to chew my food and keep my head up. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Linden droned on When he was making what he considered an important point, he raised his voice and slapped the table with his hand, but soon the cadence of his speech was as effective as a lullaby. I was no longer really listening and understanding.

"I'm suddenly very tired. Linden," I announced.

"I think I'll skip dessert."

"I didn't make any," he said. "We've got to watch your weight, Willow. You will thank me for that after you give birth because it will be easier for you to regain your beautiful figure."

"Okay," I said. Just to smile seemed to take great effort, When I stood up. I felt wobbly. He rose quickly and came around the table. "I don't know why I'm so tired suddenly," I said. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay. It's normal for you to be tired.

You're doing too much. You need more rest. I'll help you to your suite." he said, and held my arm as I walked to the stairway,

When I looked up the stairs. I felt as if I were about to attempt a climb of Mount Everest. It seemed suddenly an impossible task to get myself up to the second landing. I actually moaned a complaint as we began to ascend. I found myself breathing very hard, too, and had to stop and rest about midway.

"What's wrong with me?" I cried, wiping my brow with my hand. I thought I felt clammy. "Maybe I should go see a doctor."

"Oh, you're just tired. Willow. I told you. It's not uncommon. After a night's rest, you'll feel fine."

he said.

He continued to guide me up, practically can-villa me the rest of the way. When we got to my suite.

I stopped to take a deep breath. He helped me to the bed.

-"Get me a cold, wet washcloth, please. Linden.'

"Of course." he said, and went to fetch it.

I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes. I don't know if he ever got the washcloth because, seconds later. I was asleep.

.

When I awoke, it was pitch dark. I was under my blanket. naked. I had no idea how I had gotten undressed and under the covers. My neck felt so stiff.

Everything ached. There was a strange new odor in my room. familiar but so unexpected, it didn't register for a few moments. I turned to see what time it was.

My clock had one of those illuminating faces so I could see the hands well in the dark. It read seven, which of course meant seven in the morning, but it was pitch dark!

Now more confused than ever. I threw off the blanket and sat up, swinging my legs off the bed and looking at my windows. The curtains weren't drawn, but—

It came like a cold wave of utter shock and terror. My windows had been painted black, just as thickly as the ones in Linden's studio and suite. Why had he done this? How could I have slept through it all? I put my hand against my forehead because I felt myself spinning. My fatigue, my passing out... could he have put one of his own medications in my food?

I fumbled about to turn on the lamps, then made my way to my closet to find my robe. It wasn't hanging- on the door where I had left it In fact, my closet was empty except for a few naked hangers.

Where were all my clothes? My shoes were gone as well. All I had were my slippers by the bed. What had he done?

Why?

For a moment. I staggered. The room took a spin and I had to grab the closet door to keep myself from falling. Whatever he had put in my food still lingered in my body. I had a great thirst and went into the bathroom to get some water. After that, I felt a little better and wrapped a towel around myself Then I went to my phone. There was no question I had to have Linden committed, I thought. This was too much. Miguel was so right. I decided I would begin by calling him.

When I lifted the receiver, however. I heard no dial tone. I was puzzled about it only for a moment, because I immediately realized the wire from the phone to the wall jack was gone.

"This is maddening." I muttered, and went to my door. I feared it, but was still surprised to discover the door had been locked. A hasp had been installed on the outside. The door opened only an inch or so, permitting a small shaft of light. I put my mouth to the narrow opening and shouted.

"Linden! Linden, where are you? What have you done? Linden!"

I heard nothing. I called again and again and listened, but heard only the same deep silence.

"Linden, please," I cried. "I'm sick. This is no good for the baby. Please, let me out."

Again. I heard only silence, Slowly, I sank to the floor and rested my head against the wall. My eyelids were still so heavy. I closed them and rested, opening them every few minutes to look into the hallway while I shouted for him. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner. From the direction and volume. I thought it was being used on the stairs.

Shouting over it was useless. I waited and waited. It seemed to go on interminably. When it stopped. I listened and then shouted for him again.

Still, he did not respond and he did not come.

Exhausted and very uncomfortable. I returned to the bed. I needed a little more rest. I told myself.

Stronger. I would rip that door open if I had to_. I thought. I closed my eyes and fell back asleep.

This time when I woke. I found a serving table and a tray beside the bed, the silver dish covered.

There was a glass of orange juice, a pot of coffee, milk, toast on a plate, and my prenatal vitamins.

Under the silver cover were two poached eggs. I touched them and realized they were still warm. He had just been here.

Hoping he had left the door unlocked. I rose and went to it, but the hasp was still there, the padlock still closed in it.

"Linden!"

I could see only a small piece of the corridor, but I realized that it, too, was very dark. Moving to the right and angling myself. I was able to catch a glimpse of one of the windows. It was painted black.

"Linden, please. Linden!"

I heard music. It grew louder. The stereo had been turned on and one of Linden's favorite Mozart concertos was playing. Shouting over it was futile.

My stomach churned. I returned to the bed and looked at the food. Toast couldn't be harmful, and neither could the eggs, but I was afraid to drink the juice or the coffee. They could easily disguise one of his sedatives. I thought. I drank water from my bathroom faucet instead. The food did give me some strength. and I looked for something to use to pry the door open. There really wasn't anything that recommended itself immediately. but I realized if I could remove one of the metal poles used in the closet. it might serve like a crowbar.

That was easier said than done. A bracket held it on both ends. I found something in my nail-file case that I could employ as a screwdriver and began to work off the brackets. That completed. I pulled and pushed on the metal pole until it came loose. The effort was exhausting. He'd given me quite a dose of his sedatives. I thought. Now I was driven by rage as well as terror. When it came to my health and the health of my baby, I would not be tolerant.

Placing the pole as close to the hasp as I could.

I began to pry away. I had just begun to make some progress— I could hear the hasp coming loose—

when suddenly, the pole was seized

and pulled out of my hands. It happened so fast and so unexpectedly, I gasped and stepped back.

"Stop it," I heard him say in a loud whisper.

"Linden! Linden, what are you doing to me?

Let me out of here."

"I've got to help you." he replied. "I've got to be sure you are not disturbed. Our Hannah is coming. We cannot permit anyone to get between us."

"Linden. What did you do with my clothing?

You can't keep me imprisoned in here. Let me out now. You're making trouble for us and especially for yourself. Unlock the door now," I demanded.

"You will understand."' he said. "And later, you will thank me for everything. I have a new idea. I am going to paint something about it Just be patient" he said. I heard him walking away.

"Linden! Don't do this. Linden!"

The music became even louder. I retreated to my bed and sat sobbing and then screaming my rage.

After that. I sobbed again.

"He'll realize what he's doing soon.' I told my image in the mirror. "He'll realize it and unlock the door."

The face in the glass that looked back at me was almost unrecognizable. My hair was wild, my cheeks streaked, my eyes frantic. It took my breath away.
Stay calm
, I told myself.
Keep calm, Willow. It
does you no good to become hysterical now. Miguel
will surely call soon, and even if he doesn't, he's
coming at seven, I remembered. This won't go on
much longer.

Every hour seemed more like ten. I dozed on and off, afraid that I wouldn't be awake when he opened the door again to bring me something else to eat and drink. He either didn't think of it or didn't remember. By now he was surely so deeply into his own world that what was real and what wasn't were indistinguishable to him. I thought. A madman was my keeper. He dwelt on another level. He might even have forgotten he had locked me in here. I realized.

There was no longer any logic. There were no rules in his existence, at least no rules I would recognize.

In order to keep my own sanity more than

anything else, by midafternoon. I decided to take a shower. I felt grimy anyway and needed to do something to revive myself. Either he had been watching me and waiting for the opportunity, or he had just happened by when I was in the shower, but after I came out and dried myself. I found a new tray of food by the bed.

"No!" I screamed, and charged the door, pulling and kicking it. It didn't budge. "Linden, you let me out of here now. I swear if you don't... Linden. Mother would be very angry at you for this."

"No," he whispered. Again he was just outside and to one side of my door. "She told me to do it."

"Stop it! Stop it!" I screamed. "Mother is dead.

She couldn't have told you anything of the sort. Let me out. Linden. I'm getting very sick. I'll lose the baby."

"No, you won't," he said confidently. "You would if you married Miguel, I bet. He would want you to have an abortion. Why would he want our baby? He would want his own baby."

"Hannah is not our baby, Linden. She is my baby, Mine."

"You don't have to say that anymore. Willow.

It's all right now. It doesn't matter. Everyone can know about us."

"What are you talking about. Linden? The baby can't be yours too. We're brother and sister."

He laughed.

"No, we're not. Willow. That was just a story Grace and you created. She told me. After my boating accident, she told me the truth so I wouldn't be upset.

That's why I knew Thatcher and you wouldn't last. So you see, it's all happening as it is supposed to happen.

Rest. We'll all be together again and happy."

What he was saying was so upsetting. I couldn't reply for a moment.

"Mother would never have told you such a thing. Linden," I said when I gathered my wits,