Winds of terror (11 page)

Entering her room once more, she locked the door and scurried back to bed, scolding herself for being such a 'fraidy-cat. She'd been so sleepy she had probably imagined she heard footsteps in the first place.

Her eyes closed, fluttered, remained closed. She was lost in deep slumber. She did not hear the footsteps outside her door... again.

Chapter 10

Melanie awoke and felt the impulse to cry. The first thought that crossed her mind, as her eyes opened and her senses shook off sleep, had been about Butch. She could still see him lying there, cold and stiff, his once bright and shiny hair matted with dried blooi

Shaking her head and biting her lip to hold back the tears, Melanie threw the covers back and reached for her robe. It was a gloomy day outside, with gray, overcast skies. The room was dark too, and switching on the bedside lamp, she saw it was almost nine o'clock. She bristled with alarm as she jumped to her feet and hurried for the door. Aunt Addie would have been ringing her bell demanding breakfast two hours ago!

As she walked down the silent hallway, she noticed that the whole house seemed to be still asleep. She did not pause outside her aunt's door to knock politely. Instead, she opened the door and hurried in.

Addie was curled up, like a petulant child, in her bed. *'Oh, thank God, it's you, Melanie," she said in a voice much like a whimper. "I've been praying you would awaken soon ..."

Melanie hurried to her side and knelt. "Aunt Addie, why didn't you call me? Are you sick?"

The old woman squeezed her eyelids shut, teardrops trickling down the trails of wrinkles on her cheeks.

"You wouldn't have believed me . . ." she sobbed brokenly. "No one believes me anymore. Everyone thinks I'm just a crazy old woman who sees things and imagines things. I'm scared to say anything anymore, but / know what 1 knowr

She opened her eyes to stare wild-eyed at the young woman beside her, and now a bony, gnarled hand snaked out from beneath the covers to clamp tightly on the girl's wrist. Melanie winced more from surprise Aan pain, because Addie's strength was waning in her old age.

"Child, you must listen to mel" she hissed through trembling, terrified lips. "He was here last night! He was here, and he shook my bed and laughed at me and said that soon I would join him in deathl"

Melanie sighed and rocked back on her heels. She didn't want to dismiss Addie lightly, so she decided to act as though she believed her. Before she could speak, however, Addie, feeling that she had a sympathetic audience in Melanie, pulled herself up on one elbow, and rushed on. "It wasn't Todd, though, don't you see?" Her eyes were glittering. "It was really Mark! Mark is possessed by Todd. I'm sure of it now! We have to do something, Melanie . .."

Melanie had pulled herself up and now sat beside Addie's bed, trying to remain calm through it all. "Well, what do you think we should do, Aunt Addie?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, dear God, I don't know." She slipped back onto her pillows, shaking her head from side to side. "Mark was a good boy, most of the time. It was that evil Todd that made him do bad things. And now, even though Todd is dead, he won't let his brother go. I just don't know what can be done except to send Mark away."

Melanie gasped. "Send Mark away?"

Addie nodded wearily. "Yes. Perhaps Todd's spirit wouldn't bother him if he left the mansion. We can't know for sure. At any rate, with Mark gone, Todd can't possess him into trying to scare me into having a fatal stroke. I'll be safe. I only wish I could communicate with Cale and that he would be able to make Mark leave."

Melanie didn't know what to do. She was sure that Addie was wrong, yet something strange was going on in the mansion. Would it help for Mark to leave? She couldn't be sure.

"I think I want to talk to Mr. Garrett," Addie said thoughtfully. "He will just have to change my will, leaving only a small trust for Mark, and he can also help me get rid of him. Yes, yes." She nodded as though she were talking more to herself than to Melanie. "You call Mr.

Garrett and have him come out here as soon as possible."

Melanie stood up slowly, wondering What she should do at this point. Then she thought about breakfast; she would just have to take first things first. "Fll bring your tray up in a little while, Aunt Addie. I want you to test for awhile. You've obviously had a bad night."

Hurrying downstairs, she started sausage patties sizzling in the big iron skillet. She had her back turned to the elevator, and it startled her when it groaned to an abrupt halt. Cale opened the gate and rolled himself out into the room.

"Have you thought about what we discussed last night?" he asked without a word of greeting. "Are you going to leave, Melanie?"

Exasperated, she began breaking eggs into a bowl and spoke without looking at him. "I've got enough on my mind this morning without you on my back, too, Cale. Addie had a restless night and says Todd came to her room again. Only this time she's convinced it isn't Todd at all, but Mark."

"Mark? Is she on that kick again?"

Melanie nodded, whipping the eggs into a froth for scrambling. "She's got her mind made up, and she wants to see her lawyer."

"No!" Cale's voice was so sharp that Melanie whipped around to look at him. His face was pale. "I don't want her to do that," he cried.

Melanie was shocked by his outburst, and she was about to ask him why he was so upset when a movement at the door leading into the hallway made her stop. It was Mark. She wondered how much of the conversation he had overheard.

She did not have to wait very long to find out.

"Please, don't stop talking on my account." Mark's lips were curved into an insolent smile, but his eyes flashed with anger. His very presence seemed to fill the room with tension. "After all, I seem to be the topic of conversation."

"Mark, Aunt Addie had another bad night . . .** Melanie began, but her voice trembled. He looked so upset!

He nodded vigorously. "Ah, yes. Auntie seems to stay upset these days. What is it this time? Another visit from

my dear, departed brother? If she hadn't driven him to his death, she wouldn't feel so guilty!"

Cale wheeled himself forward. "Look, Mark. There's no point in hashing all this over again. Grandmother did have a bad night, and she's upset. She thinks you're possessed. Now we all know that's ridiculous, and shell get over it in time-—"

Mark lashed out at his cousin: "Yes, she'll get over it, but I know you're hoping she'll believe this nonsense at least until she gets her will changed to leave you more than a token trust fund, right?"

"Mark, that's not fair!" Melanie cried, shocked that he could make such a statement. "Cale hasn't asked for anything."

Mark glared at her, his fists clenching and unclenching. "You! What do you know? You and Cale have plotted the whole thing to make me look like the villain! You fools! Do you think my brother will let you get away with this?"

"Mark, please." Melanie started forward, but he took a step backwards and held up his hands to warn her to keep away. She felt tears stinging her eyes. This wasn't Mark, the boy she'd grown up with, played with as a child. This man was a stranger, an angry, embittered stranger! Why did he look at her with so much hatred and malice? She could think of nothing she had ever done to him to provoke such emotions.

"You have to listen," she pleaded with him. "Cale and I had nothing to do with Aunt Addie's decision to call her lawyer. She didn't even ring for me this morning. I went to her room and found her cowering and whimpering in her bed like a child. She was terrified because she thinks you came into her room last night pretending to be Todd, and threatened her. She actually thinks you are possessed by Todd. She'll change. She just isn't resting well."

"You listen to me!" Mark pointed a trembling finger first at Melanie, then at Cale. "Both of you! You listen and listen hard! Todd won't stand for this. Aunt Addie is crazy now, and she's always been crazy, and she should be put away—"

Cale cut in, his voice clear and strong, eyes unwavering, his face a tight mask of concern. "You want her declared mentally incompetent, don't you, Mark? Then you can get yourself appointed guardian and take over the plantation

and all that goes with it. She seems to live forever, doesn't she? And you just can't wait—"

"You think you're more fit to have Beecher House?" Mark shrieked at him, his eyes wild, his face as white as flour. "You think you deserve to have the plantation?"

Cale sighed and shook his head wearily. He didn't even know why he was bothering to argue with someone like Mark, who seemed mentally disturbed himself.

"Look, man, I didn't come here of my own free will, you know," he said, slowly. "If 1 hadn't gotten busted up, I wouldn't be here. There was nothing else for me to do. Blood's thicker than water, and Grandmother felt she had to take me in. So okay, I'm here, and now you ask me if I feel entitled to Beecher House. I'll be honest with you now that you want to get nasty. Yes, I do feel entitled. After all, my father was Addie's son. Your father was merely her brother. If it comes down to a court battle, I think I'd stand a better chance of winning since, legally, I'm an heir and you aren'tl"

Melanie stood between them . . . two men who looked as though they were each ready to pounce and kill. Was this what Cale had been talking about when he said he had to stay and settle an account? Did he want to claim the plantation for his own? He had never hinted at this before. And how far would Mark go, she wondered. She'd never thought him capable of fighting for anything in his whole life until now. Two strangers, that's what they were, and she was frankly puzzled and upset by this heated confrontation between them.

Mark had moved slowly towards the back door, trembling in his rage. His breathing was hoarse and ragged, and his eyes, so filled with hate and loathing, never left Cale, who matched his glare.

"You think you have a legal right as heir?" Mark laughed nastily. "How can you? I doubt you even know who your real father is, if the stories I've heard about your mother are true."

Cale moved rapidly. His hand closed around the coffee pot which sat on the table, and he sent it flying across the room. It caught Mark on the shoulder, and he cried out in pain as the scalding coffee ran down his arm. Mark turned back around, as if to retaliate, but Melanie had come to life. She rushed forward to push him on out.

"Get out. Get out and stop this!" she cried. "I'm ashamed of you, Mark."

He was screaming about his brother getting revenge as Melanie shoved him out and slammed the door behind him. She paid no attention to his persistent mutterings until she heard these words: "He fixed that nosy, pesky dog of yours..."

Her eyes widened and her blood felt cold as it coursed through her veins. She looked at Cale, but her words were a mere whisper. "Did you hear what he said? Todd killed Butchr

"Don't pay any attention to that idiot," Cale said, waving his hand in disgust. Just then, Addie's bell began to ring sharply. "Why the hell don't you cut out of this zoo, Melly? You're a damn fool to keep staying!"

She brushed by him and hurried up the steps, upset by the urgency of the bell. Melanie hurried into the room and found the old woman sitting up in bed looking around with alarm.

"Just what is going on? I heard shouting and screaming and the sound of something breaking."

Melanie looked down at her feet, not wanting to have to tell of the events of only moments earlier.

"Well? Don't lie to me, child," Addie snapped. "Tell me about it quickly. I have a right to know everything that goes on in this house!"

Melanie told her, from beginning to end, and Addie listened, her face showing her shock and despair over such horrible events. When Melanie began to relate that Mark had said it was Todd who killed Butch, Addie's eyes lit up. She reached out, clutching the young girl's arm, digging in with her nails.

"What's that? Tell me that part again!" she cried. "Exactly what did you hear Mark say about your dog?"

Melanie repeated it slowly, hardly stopping to think why Addie was so interested in Dutch's gruesome death. She watched as the old lady sank back upon the pillows, eyes closed, her breathing heavy and labored.

"Oh, dear God, dear God, why didn't I realize it before? Why didn't I think? So much goes on around here that a body can't think straight..."

"What are you talking about, Aunt Addie?" Melanie was alarmed now, wondering if the old woman were about to have another stroke. She seemed so upset. Mov-

ing quickly, Melanie got out one of Addie's special pills to calm her.

Several moments passed, and then Addie Beecher began to breathe easier. When she started to talk, she seemed quite composed.

"The trap. The steel trap that killed Butch. You remember I told you that Bartley collected all of the traps before he died because Todd was torturing animals with them?"

Melanie nodded.

*'He put them in his room. I remember quite clearly. He put them in a special chest in his room where he kept his hunting gear. Todd knew they were there, but he knew his uncle would have beat him half to death if he touched a thing in that room!"

Melanie looked at her blankly. Exactly what her aunt was trying to say hadn't sunk in yet.

"Don't you see, Melly?" Addie cried, exasperated because the young girl failed to understand. "Don't you see? Someone has been in that room. Todd! Todd directed Mark to go in that room and get the trap and kill Butch with it! Who else would have done such a devilish, fiendish, cruel thing? No one but Todd!"

She closed her eyes and gasped once or twice, as though the whole thing were too awful for anyone to face. "We have to stop him!" she said through clenched teeth. "And the only way to do that is to get Mark out of this house as quickly as possible."

"Aunt Addie, it all sounds so horrible!" Melanie began to pace the room nervously. She crossed to the window and looked out. The field hands were already at work, moving among the rows of cotton with their hoes, stretching and bending to chop the devilish weeds from the tender plants. Beyond, on the horizon, a thick, black cloud seemed to rumble and roll. The air was thick and the humidity high. A storm was brewing, and it could be a bad one.