Winds of terror (4 page)

"I don't believe that," Melanie gasped.

*'See what I mean?" he said, with satisfaction. "The old lady's gone crazy. She hated that boy, and, sure, he was a hell-raiser from the word 'go,' but if I had to live with that old witch, I'd want to kick up my heels and have some fun when I got out of her den, tool"

"I talked to my aimt this afternoon. She seemed perfectly sane to me," Melanie replied indignantly. "If it did happen, then Todd might still have been alive when she found him. She talked to me about his death, about finding him, and she didn't mention his speaking to her. Perhaps she's blotted it out of her memory because it's too horrible to remember."

Mr. Proctor shrugged. "He couldn't have been alive, JLeastways that's what Luke Walker said, and he's seen enough dead people and put enough of 'em away in his time that he should know."

"Luke Walker! That old man is an insult to his profession. He should have been put out of business decades ago. I wonder how does he keep on being elected coroner each election." Melanie looked aroimd, trying to calm down. "What did Dr. Ambrose say?" she asked.

"Well, Mark carried your aimt straight to his ofl5ce. She was unconscious, and by the time the doc got her tucked into the hospital, Luke had already declared Todd dead and had picked up his body. Frankly, I think Addie always has been a little tetched. As for how folks are acting, they just plain don't want nothing to do with her or anybody that lives with her."

"That's crazyl It's also very cruel."

"Honey, listen to me." He touched her arm in a gesture of friendship. "You're young, and you've had your own share of grief. Why don't you get out of here before you have some more?"

"I don't need your advice, Mr. Proctor," she said icily, pulling away. "Just fill my order please."

He gave her a look of pity.

Back in the car, Melanie told Mark everything the grocer had told her, but if she was expecting him to give her any sympathy, she was in for a rude shock.

He glanced at her, then turned his gaze back to the road as he headed back for Beecher House.

"He was right, Melanie," Mark said, at last. "Aunt Addie isn't mentally competent. Todd was dead when she found him. He was cold when I cut him down. Luke said he was already getting stiff when he took him away. And she did drive him to his death. You don't know how she nagged the poor guy. It was probably her guilt that made her think he looked down at her and threatened to come back for his revenge. But I wouldn't be surprised if he did! Todd hated that old woman."

"Why didn't he leave?" she asked angrily. "Why didn't he get out and join the army and go to war like other brave yoimg men in this country, instead of sponging off hisaunt?"

"He had a bad back," Mark said. "He felt he had a right to stay. It was the only home he'd ever known."

She pressed stiflBiy against the seat. It wasn't fun riding in a new car anymore. Nothing was fun; everything was grim. "I still don't think she's losing her mind. I think she's just had a bad shock, and she will be awhile getting over it."

Mark braked the car and pulled to the side of the road* Melanie looked at him anxiously as he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. She could see that he was biting his lip, and that the muscle in his jaw twitched nervously.

She waited in silence.

Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "Melanie, I want you to leave here. I know that you came to repay your mother's debt to Aunt Addie, but you have yourself to think about. If you stay, you're in for misery and heartache. You can tell Aunt Addie you had a job offer so wonderful that you couldn't turn it down— '*

"I won't do it!" she lashed out at him, furious and indignant. Everyone was harping on her about leaving. "I came to help Aunt Addie, and that is exactly what I plan to do."

He shook his head wearily and then steered the car back onto the highway. They rode in silence the rest of the way home. Melanie did not trust herself to speak. She

had always liked Mark, but she had felt contempt for him even as a child He was a weak person, but she was not! She would not let anyone drive her away when she felt so adamant about being here. After all. Aunt Addie needed her, and she would stay as long as Addie wanted her to.

Chapter U

When they arrived at the house, Melanie went immediately to the kitchen to begin making dinner. She was enjoying herself at the old stove, lost in happy memories of a childhood forever gone. So lost in thought was she that the sound of the creaking elevator did not register until the door slid open. A soft scream of surprise escaped her lips as she whirled around.

"Hello there, cousin." A grinning face looked up at her from a wheelchair. Cale had sandy red hair, laughing brown eyes, and a dimple in his right cheek. She had never even seen a picture of her cousin, Cale, and the charm revealed in just that one smile took her by surprise.

"I didn't even know that old elevator worked anymore," she laughed, moving to help him into the room.

He held up a hand to stop her, and for just an instant the happiness left his eyes. It was clear that he did not want her help or her pity. He gave the wheels a thrust and slid into the room. "After my stupid accident. Grandmother had the elevator fixed. It hadn't been used since Grandfather died. I like to be able to get around, so it comes in pretty handy."

He rolled himself over to the stove and sniffed appreciatively. "Mmmm. Now I must say this is going to be an improvement over cousin Mark's culinary efforts. Let me guess now. You've concocted a pot of beef stew, right?"

"Right." She lifted the lid of the pot to let the aroma fill the air. "I've really enjoyed cooking dinner. It's not much fun cooking for only one person, and I'm afraid

I've gotten too used to grabbing a hamburger or opening cans."

Cale looked at the young woman, and sensed that behind the warm, hazel eyes were deep pools of sadness. She was very pretty, and it distressed him to see one so lovely and so young touched by such unhappiness.

"I heard about your husband's death, Melanie, and I want you to know I am very sorry."

*Thank you." She knew his words of sympathy were from the heart, and, as she managed a smile for her foster cousin, she thought how well he was accepting the blows of fate. There was no trace of bitterness in his looks or in his manner.

"Well, how do you like decrepit old Beecher House?" he asked, to change the subject. He sensed that Melanie's first day had not been a pleasant one.

She sprinkled flour on the old board and began rolling out dough for the biscuits Hilda had taught her to make as a child.

"Cale, Tm puzzled about a few things," she said. *T mean. Aunt Addie seems mentally competent to me, but the old grocer in town, Mr. Proctor, kind of gave me the impression that everyone thinks she's a Uttle crazy."

He laughed good-naturedly. "Don't let them throw you. I'm afraid Grandmother hasn't made many friends in her lifetime. I, of all people, should know how cantankerous she can be. When Todd committed suicide,. it was the most excitement anybody had seen around here since Luke Walker and Hank Snyder got drunk together. When Hank passed out, Luke decided he was dead and prepared to embalm him!"

"Oh no," she shrieked with laughter, covering her mouth with her hand. Both of them roared at the flour covering her face. "What happened then?" she giggled.

"Hank woke up on the embalming table and when he saw what old Luke was about to do, he got out of there so fast that folks say he took the hinges right off the doorl"

They were still laughing when Mark walked through the back door and looked at them curiously.

"Cale was just telling me about Luke Walker trying to embalm someone who'd passed out drunk and ..."

"I've heard the story," Mark replied coolly. He turned

his back to Cale and said, "Melanie, Aunt Addie will be demanding something to eat any minute now."

Just then, from the distant reaches of the house, the bell began to ring.

"I'll go up and tell her it will be a few minutes," he said, hurrying away.

"He just adds to the gloom around here,*' Cale said matter-of-factly. "Don't let him get you down. He's been so used to Todd's telling him every move to make that he doesn't know how to act now that he has a chance to be his own man."

Cale wheeled over to the counter and took the pan of biscuits from Melanie. Then he rolled himself over to the oven, opened the door, and slid the pan inside.

"You aren't happy here, are you?" she asked him as she finished ladling the food into serving bowls. A tray would have to be prepared to be taken to Aimt Addie, who was still confined to bed under her doctor's orders.

"Oh, I don't ask to be happy anymore, Melanie," he said. "I just don't want to be uiiappy. As long as I'm in this thing, I don't ask for much or expect to get much. I'm lucky to be alive, so I don't complain."

"I heard about your accident, and 1 was sorry. You loved to race, didn't you?'*

He shrugged. "Well, it was exciting. I got out of college, and I didn't really know what to do with myself. Grandmother wanted me to settle right here in Linville, but I wanted more out of life than what this place has to offer. I'd always loved cars and speed and all that goes with that, so when a former roommate from college invited me to visit him up north, I went. He introduced me to sprint racing, and I decided to take a fling at it.

"Grandmother had fits, of course, but I guess I inherited some of my mother's adventuresome spirit, because right then I didn't care if Grandmother cut me out of her will or anything else. I wanted to race!"

Melanie's heart went out to him. She'could tell by the enthusiasm in his voice how strong his desires had been. He sounded so sincere, so intense.

"We were racing at the fairgrounds one Sunday afternoon. I guess I thought I knew it all, but I found out I didn't know anything. I blew a tire on the third turn, bounced off the wall, and flipped over. The car caught on

fire, and it's a miracle they were able to get me out before it exploded."

Melanie felt goose bumps up and down her arms as she thought of what a horrible sight it must have been —and how terrible it all must have been for Cale. She stole a look at him and saw that he didn't look tense or upset—only worried, because for him, his dream had shattered.

She made her voice as gentle as she could. "Cale, do the doctors think you will ever walk again? I mean, is there an operation or anything?"

His lower lip jutted out slightly as he shook his head. *They say it's just one of those things. The spinal cord was injured, and it may heal in time. I'm lucky to be alive, so I can't complain."

He had said that eariier, and Melanie found herself wondering if he were trying to convince her, or himself, of this. "Isn't it terribly depressing living here?" she pondered out loud.

"Where else am I supposed to live?" He grinned at her once more. "Grandmother was so furious about my rac-mg that after she got over the relief I wasn't killed she went and changed her will. I have a trust fund now— nothing more. Seems the dear lady worries that I'll take up gambling or some other nasty vice to occupy my lonely hours. While she's alive, I get my room and board and that's it. So how can I leave?

"Now, you," he said, gesturing at her. "You can leave anytime you get ready. I, for one, hope you will stay for a long time. It's nice to have a pretty, smiling face around. I think you will be good for all of us."

'Well, thank you, Cale." She was touched by his manner and his charm. She was also glad that someone had made her feel welcome.

After dinner Cale hung around the kitchen to help as best he could with the cleaning up. Mark disappeared outside for a while, and, when he returned, he said curtly that he had to do some bookwork upstairs.

"I spend my idle hours, of which there are many, whittling racing cars," Cale told her. "I have quite a collection, and I'd like to show them to you sometime."

"I'd like to see them," Melanie said before he turned to go to his room. She liked Cale; she found him to be re-

freshing and exciting, even if he were confined to a world of his own.

The bell rang. This time it seemed to communicate boredom rather than irritation. Melanie hurried upstairs to her aunt's room.

"Do you think you could read to me, child?" her aunt asked. "My eyes are tired, but I would like to finish this book.**

Obediently, Melanie sat down and began to read. She was getting weary, and, when she glanced up, about an hour later, she saw that Addie was sound asleep. She tucked the covers under her aunt's chin and tiptoed out, closing the door behind her.

There was a light shining from beneath Gale's door at the other end of the hall, but she did not want to disturb him. There was also a fight coming from beneath Mark's door, but she had no desire to talk to her embittered cousin.

Downstairs in the living room she selected a dusty book from the shelf, making a mental note to get started, early in the morning, to give the house a good cleaning.

It wasn't long before her head began to nod and she was fighting to stay awake. The flames crackling in the fireplace and the gentle spring winds blowing outside made her feel warm and relaxed. The house was silent except for the occasional creaks one expects to hear in old houses. It was a pleasant, relaxed time ...

Suddenly a loud scream filled the air. Melanie sat up, trying to remember where she was. Had she heard a scream—or had she dreamed it? The fire was cold and dead; it was quite late.

There was another sound—of hysterical sobbing. Melanie moved to her feet as quickly as her drowsy state would allow. She hurried up the stairs and met Cale wheeling his chair down the hall. He looked sleepy and dazed, and, this time, when Melanie stepped behind his chair to push, he did not resist.

Pointing to the far end of the hall, he said, "Grandmother. Quick."

When they reached the room, the door was wide open.' Mark was bent over, trying to lift his aunt from the floor where she lay in a heap, sobbing.

Melanie rushed to help, and, between the two of them, they got Aunt Addie back into bed.