Midnight Rose (37 page)

“Ben, what is it?” She felt it then, the torn flesh on his back, raked by the lash, the stickiness of blood still oozing. “Damn them to hell, they whipped you!”

“I’m runnin’, Miz Erin. I can’t take no more. If Letty can make it, so can I. And Mistah Sam, he tol’ me to come here if I was afraid to make it along the riverbank, and Lordy, I was. That’d be the first place Mastah Zachary will look fo’ me, and I know he knows I’m gone by now, ’cause I been hidin’ here since first light this mornin’. I had to wait till dark to put that rose in the pot that Rosa made for me outta paper and chicken blood.” He paused for the relief of a nervous laugh before admitting, “I was scairt, too, ’cause I’ve heard the stories about a ghost a’walkin’ there on a full moon, but I’d rather face a ghost anytime than Mastah Zachary, fo’ sho’.”

“Does Sam Wade know you’re here? If not, then I’m going to have to place a rose on the dock, and you’re going to have to hide till midnight tomorrow. They won’t see the signal till daylight, and—”

“It’s all right.” He went on to explain that he’d told Sam beforehand of the exact time he planned to run away. Sam had promised the boat would be at the pier exactly one hour past midnight, so Erin would have time to get him through to meet it.

“Then let’s go.” She tugged at his arm. “Stay close behind, and be patient. I’ve got to count turns and steps and do all kinds of things to remember the right path so we don’t wind up hopelessly trapped.”

He did as he was told, and just when his heart began to pound with the fear they were truly lost within the monster hedges, Erin softly cried, “We made it. There it
is.” She pointed, and in, the moonlight, the river danced with thousands of diamond shards. The outline of a boat was barely visible beneath the dying fronds of a weeping willow tree. “You’re going to be safe now, Ben. They’ll get you north, to Pennsylvania, and you’ll be on your way across the ocean to Letty before you know it.” She reached for his hand and squeezed happily, confidently.

This time, he did not pull away. He swallowed hard, then dared confide, “Miz Erin, I got to tell you things is bad over there. Rosa said for me to tell you that if you’re gonna get your momma outta there, you best hurry up and do it, ’cause Mastah Zachary, he’s gone crazy. Tulwah is using his
wanga
on him, and—”

He was talking so fast, nearly hysterical, and she could not grasp it all. “You’ve got to speak slower, Ben, and tell me exactly what you mean.”

“Tulwah, he’s not just a medicine man, Miz Erin. He was a
tonton macoute
in his homeland, and he knows magic, and he’s using
wanga
to put spells on Mastah Zachary. And it’s workin’, too. Rosa, she say he’s feelin’ poorly, havin’ pains and not knowin’ why. He beat her the other day and accused her of poisonin’ him, and now he won’t let nobody fix his food. He fixes it hisself. But she didn’t put nothin’ in it. Now he don’t know it, but Tulwah, he left some hummin’ bird meat under his pillow, and that’s what made him sick. But he’s like a crazy man, she said, and he’s bein’ real mean to yo’ momma. You got to get her out of there.”

Enraged, Erin was quick to promise, “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of her. I’d already planned to go over there tomorrow and stay with her till I can bring her back here.”

“No. Not tomorrow. Mastah Zachary, he’s gonna be crazy mad about me runnin’ away, and it’ll only make things worse if you go. Rosa said to tell you that, too, to wait a few days till he finds out I ain’t nowhere around here, and then he’ll get a posse together, just like when Letty got away, and, then he’ll take off.
You can go get yo’ momma, and Rosa, too, I hope, and get ’em both back here safe and sound before he comes back.”

She agreed that made sense, even though she had desperately been looking forward to seeing her mother.

He started from the maze as the two men in the boat impatiently waved him to get moving. But then he turned back, and in the silver night glow, Erin could see the tears sparkling in his eyes as he fervently whispered, “Jesus bless you, Miz Erin. I’ll never forget you.”

“And I’ll never forget you, Ben. Godspeed.” She blew him a kiss and waved him on, holding back her own tears.

Victoria did not sleep well in the room where she’d been moved. Tossing and turning in the unfamiliar surroundings only served to make her even more irate over the situation.

Damn Erin Sterling.

And her mother, too.

After hearing that Erin wanted her to move in, Victoria was sure Arlene Tremayne had been a part of Erin’s scheme to get Ryan to marry her.

Hearing the case clock chime twice, Victoria threw back the covers. No need to keep lying there wide awake. What she needed was a little sherry from the bottle she kept hidden under her divan.

Pouring herself a glass, she decided some fresh night air might also relieve her stress and help her fall asleep.

It was a lovely night, but as she stepped onto the veranda that ran around the front and sides of the second floor, she was struck with terror. There, running from the labyrinth, was a figure in white. Her hand went to her throat, and she froze where she stood. She’d heard the slaves’ stories about the ghost of Henrietta Youngblood but passed them off as superstitious nonsense. Now, she wasn’t so sure, for who would be out there this time of night?

She gripped the railing with trembling hands, then bolted back into the shadows.

Wearing a white robe, Erin was the “ghost” she thought she’d seen on the lawn. Victoria at once admonished herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her, if only for a split second.

But what was she doing out there?

Then it dawned on her.

A man.

The labyrinth would be the ideal place for lovers to meet in secret. Who would think to look there? Perhaps that’s what she’d been doing all along, and her infidelity was the reason she avoided sleeping with Ryan.

And now, Victoria realized gleefully, she had a weapon she could use to force Erin to leave. All she had to do was keep an eye on her and actually catch her with her lover. Once confronted, the trollop would have no choice but to pack her bags and get out of Ryan’s life once and for all.

Finally, Victoria went to bed, and for the first time since returning home, she slept quite soundly and peacefully.

Nate Donovan looked at Zachary as if he’d lost his mind. In fact, he hoped he had. “I don’t think you know what you’re sayin’. You’re just mad ’cause that slave took off today. But we’ll get him. He can’t have got far.”

Zachary turned up the bottle again, then passed it back to Nate. They were in his study, and the house was still and quiet. “You’re wrong. On both counts.”

It was late, but Zachary didn’t want to go to bed. Anyway, after the past few nights, he never wanted to crawl in his own bed again as long as he lived. Every night there was something new there. First the cock head. Then a dead bird. And lots of other things. Weird things. And slapping Arlene so hard he split her lip hadn’t put a stop to it. Neither had beating the shit out of Rosa.

He turned his attention to Nate once more to voice his fears that he might not be able to find Ben. “Somebody is helping these runaways. Bound to be. Luke Washam had one take off and disappear just last week. Before that, I lost two. There’s no way that many could vanish in thin air. And don’t forget Letty. She got help once she hit the water. No.” He swung his head from side to side in firm resolution. “Something funny is going on, and I got a feeling my high-yaller wife’s got somethin’ to do with it.”

Nate felt a little funny about Zachary confiding that Arlene’s grandmother had been a Negro. That was really a shocker, if it was so, but he couldn’t imagine a man lying about a thing like that. But wanting to sell her into slavery was another matter entirely, and he couldn’t believe Zachary was serious and said so, again.

“Well, I am,” Zachary said hotly. “I told you. I been finding stuff under my pillow, under my bed. She’s behind the slaves running away, and she’s trying to kill me with that voodoo shit. Now I’m tired of jawin’ about it. I want it over and done with. So, are you gonna take her and get her to the block, or do I have to find another trader?”

Nate did not have to think long. He figured, what the hell? If he didn’t do it, Zachary would find some other trader who would. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen a mulatto auctioned off, protesting all the time, because she thought she’d found security at last by marrying a white man and passing for white. But that was different. Those women had known they were taking a chance, and most of them hadn’t been married long to start with, and, nine times out of ten, the husbands had married them with the intention of having their fill and then selling them off and making some money when they got bored. Arlene Tremayne was a different situation. But no matter. Nate had learned a long time ago not to take a personal interest in any of the human flesh he peddled. “All right,” he said finally. “When do you want to do it? I’ll need some papers, you know.”

“I’ve got them.” Zachary handed over the ownership papers he’d drawn up, as well as the sign-over granting permission to Nate to sell her to the highest bidder. “We do it now. Tonight. I want her out of the house tonight. Then all this voodoo shit will stop, and I can have some peace.”

Nate stood, snatched up the papers, and stuffed them in his coat pocket. “Is she asleep?”

“Probably. I haven’t heard no sound from up there in a while. Sometimes she just pretends, though, thinking I won’t claim my rights. Hell.” He snorted. “Who wants ’em, anyway? All she does is cough and wheeze.”

“Did you ever think it might be best to just leave things as they are and maybe she’ll go on and die?”

“Meanwhile, I have to sleep with cock heads and dead birds? Hell, no. Get her out of here. Now.” He settled back in his chair and this time poured himself a drink from the bottle instead of turning it up to his lips. He wanted to savor the taste of the liquor, while he savored the moment of triumph in removing the bane from his life.

“I’ll call Jason in to help. He’s waiting outside. We’ll gag her, throw a bag over her head, and haul her off. I’d like to make tracks before anybody finds out what’s going on.”

Arlene awoke as the foul-smelling rag was stuffed in her mouth, and before she could even attempt to struggle, a large bag was slipped over her head and shoulders, reaching all the way to her waist. Arms went about her, pinning her own down, so it was futile to resist, even if she’d been able to muster the strength. It was so much easier to let the cloak of terror take her gently away to oblivion.

Zachary grinned as he heard Nate and Jason leave the house. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of them riding away.

It was over.

He was rid of her forever.

And now he could stop worrying about the goddamn
wanga
and
obeah
and all that nonsense. With their priestess out of the way, the slaves would calm down. Maybe he would have a few beaten at the stake tomorrow just to set an example that all the mumbo jumbo was over and done with, and he’d tolerate no more.

He took one last sip of the whiskey in celebration, but nearly choked as he swallowed.

The sound seemed to explode all around him at once, and for a horrified instant, he thought it was all right there in the room. Covering his ears with his hands, he staggered to his feet, whirling around, staring in terror at each and every shadow.

The drums continued. Strong. Rhythmic. A throbbing beat like an avenging, pounding heart.

Voodoo drums.

From deep in the swamps, where he’d never be able to find them.

Zachary ran to his gun cabinet, took out all his weapons, and piled them in front of him as he crouched in a corner. There, he would spend the night in readiness, and if
any of the black demons came after him, he’d blast them to the hell they’d come from.

The drums beat even louder.

And soon, Zachary’s screams became their relentless echo in the night.

Chapter Twenty-Three

With each word Victoria spoke, Eliza‘s knowing grin grew ever wider. At last, she cried, “That’s why she was in Master Ryan’s study, snooping around in his desk. I saw her there. One day before you came home. She was looking at a paper and seemed to be drawing something at the same time.”

“That’s it. The diagram of the labyrinth.” Victoria felt a sweeping wave of triumph. “Ryan used to love to have parties where guests would try to make their way through, remember? If anyone got lost deep within one of the intricate pathways, he’d have to check his map to find the way. He’d memorized the way to the center and out the other side to the river, just like his father did, but there are so many different corridors and trails in that mammoth growth of hedges that no one could remember each and every turn. Now we know that’s what Erin did. She copied his map, memorized the way to the center, then gave it to her lover so he could find his way in from the river.

“Oh, Eliza!” She gave her treasured servant an impulsive hug. “Don’t you see? This explains everything. It’s all so clear now. Erin schemed with her lover and her mother to make Ryan marry her. She wants to move her mother in here, and the two of them will take over. Erin will be stealing money from Ryan to give to her lover, and who knows what else she’s plotting and scheming to do?” She gave a shudder of exaggerated horror. “Why, they might even be planning to murder all of us and make it look accidental so they can take over Jasmine Hill before Ryan gets back.”