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Authors: Jennifer; Wilde

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BOOK: Stranger by the Lake
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“You would have come dashing to the rescue,” I said.


After
I finished the chapter,” he replied. “Where were you?”

I left the room without answering. Prince and Earl were in the main hall, agitated by the storm outside. Prince cowered under a table, growling. Earl dashed around in circles, giving leaps of joy when he saw me. I let him kiss my cheek all he wanted.

“You don't know what glue is, sweetie,” I said, “but that's what you and I are going to be like. We're going to stick together from now on. Come along, let's go see Aunt Agatha.”

He followed me up the stairs, elated. I knocked on Aunt Agatha's door and tried the doorknob. It was locked. That, at least, was reassuring. I heard her shuffling around inside, and in a moment she threw open the door, muttering angrily. Earl pounced up and slurped his tongue across her cheek, and Aunt Agatha screamed at him with such scathing fury that he ran across the room and scurried under the bed, whining.

“You look like you just stepped out of a bandbox,” she said grumpily. “That yellow dress is quite becoming, and your hair——”

“I just bathed and changed,” I replied. “I've been up in the attics, looking for the manuscripts.”

“Good show! I knew you'd come 'round. Well, come on
in
, Susan! Don't just stand there in the doorway! I was beginning to worry. You promised to pay me another visit, and when Mildred came in she was sniffling something about your not being in your room. She'd gone up to tell you Cook left some sandwiches, and—oh well, have you eaten anything, dear?”

I shook my head. “I'm not hungry, but I could use a drink. Surely you keep a bottle.”

“Althea is the one who
drinks
, pet. Why should I have a bottle under my pillow?”

“Is it under your pillow?”

She nodded, smiling coyly. “For
medicinal
purposes only. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and a slug or two puts me right back to sleep. I have to
hide
it or Mildred would snitch and Paul would be livid. Come on, I'll pour you a snort.”

“A strong snort,” I said.

“I must say, Susan, you're
full
of surprises.”

Aunt Agatha handed me the drink and climbed back in bed. She was looking better than she had earlier, although there were still signs of fatigue around the eyes. I drank the whisky and told her about finding Arabella's letters, making no mention of anything else that had happened. She was very excited about the discovery. They would be marvelous for Craig's book, and what a stroke of luck it had been, she claimed, plying me with questions. I finished the whisky and listened to her chatter. I felt much better now. I could hardly believe that only a short while ago I had been in grave danger. No doubt I would have a delayed reaction and be paralyzed with shock, but at the moment I felt perfectly normal, as though it had all happened to someone else.

“——we'll have to
organize,
” Aunt Agatha was saying. “Now that you're eager to help us I'm sure we'll find them soon. After all, you found those letters, just by accident. We'll probably stumble upon the manuscripts in similar fashion.”

Earl peeked out from under the bed. I snapped my fingers and told him to come on out and told Aunt Agatha that she needed to sleep. She grumbled a bit but finally admitted that she was weary. I walked to the door, Earl at my heels.

“Tell me, dear,” Aunt Agatha said wryly, “have you been thinking any more about Craig?”

“I've been thinking about him all day,” I replied.

“Super! Isn't it
exciting
, Susan?”

“I suppose you could say that,” I said dryly. “Be sure you lock your door behind me. Good night, Aunt Agatha.”

I was glad to have Earl's company on the long walk back to my bedroom. I hadn't brought a lamp with me, but Mildred had left lamps burning at various intervals along the dark hallways. Earl scampered on ahead, his paws making loud thumps on the carpets. He paused at the east wing, disturbed by the cold, clammy air. Once inside my bedroom, I locked the door securely and told Earl to behave. He was sniffing the peacock feathers in the green, black, and gold Chinese vase in the corner.

I knew I couldn't sleep, yet I didn't intend to brood about what had happened. I could do nothing till morning. I would call Peter immediately. Surely after he learned that someone had tried to kill me he would take me more seriously. For the moment, I was quite safe with Earl locked in the room with me.

The lamps burned brightly, shedding tremulous golden light over the faded Chinese silk wallpaper. I piled the pillows up against the headboard and sat down on top of the covers, still wearing my yellow dress. Picking up the historical novel, I tried to read. It was difficult to concentrate, but I was finally caught up in the flamboyant melodrama. Earl leaped up on the bed, snuggling his great silver body over my feet and looking deplorably contented.

I finished the book and set it aside, drowsy now, too tired to change into my pajamas. I dropped off to sleep, still on top of the covers, lamps still flickering, and it was three in the morning before I woke up with a start. Earl had leaped off the bed, his sudden movement jerking me out of my sleep with rude abruptness. He was standing at the door, hair bristling, emitting a long, low growl that caused my flesh to creep.

“Earl,” I whispered.

He gave one furious, ear-splitting bark and then leaped back up on the bed, licking my face with abandon. I pushed him aside and got up, moving over to the door. It was several seconds before I had the nerve to open it. There was no one there. The hallway was empty. Earl must have been having a nightmare, I decided, relieved.

I was closing the door when I saw the shoes I had left up in the attic room. I gasped, my whole body going limp. The shoes were sitting primly side by side right in front of the doorway. The shrunken head I had hurled away from me was resting grotesquely in one of the insteps.

CHAPTER TEN

It was macabre, a master touch deliberately planned to reduce me to a mass of quivering terror. It had the exact opposite effect. After the first shock subsided I felt only calm, icy anger. After all I'd been through, a prank like this wasn't going to defeat me. It only strengthened my resolution to get to the bottom of things as soon as possible. Wrapping the shoes and the grisly shrunken head up in newspaper, I dumped them into the waste-basket. I would certainly never be able to wear the shoes again, not after this.

Making sure the door was locked, I changed into my pajamas and blew out the lamps and climbed into bed, Earl draped over my feet, and the next thing I knew it was after ten and sunshine shimmered into the room and Earl was whining to be let out. I opened the door for him, yawning, amazed at my own commendable calm. Someone expected me to be pale and terrified, but I was filled with energy. In the mirror, my cheeks were quite pink, my violet-blue eyes bright and shining.

It was a lovely morning, the sky like wet blue-gray silk, the sunlight thin and silvery. The dark green shrubs in back dripped with moisture, and there was a very fine drizzle in the air. I changed into a pair of black and white checked slacks and a navy blue sweater, sitting down at the mirror to brush my hair, sadly tangled during the night. It finally gleamed darkly, framing my face with soft waves.

Mary knocked on the door with distressing loudness, but I was ready for her this morning. I opened the door for her, disappointed that she had no tray. She tossed her short blonde curls and started chattering about the accident at the inn which she had heard about in town last night. Yesterday afternoon seemed a long time ago to me.

“Poor Charlie,” Mary babbled. “Always so peculiar. Just like him to have such a wretched accident—I'm ever so sad, actually. He was sweet, a real sweet chap. Charlie may have been a bit dense at times, reckon he
was
rather tetched, but he knew how to make a girl feel all shivery inside, all warm and nice all over——”

“You knew Charlie well?” I inquired.

“I went with him, ma'am. I'll tell you this—he knew how to kiss a girl so she stayed kissed. Charlie wasn't at
all
slow in that department. I know for a fact. Lots of people wondered why that actress woman would take up with him—her bein' so sophisticated, him bein' such a hick. I know the answer to that one. He was terrific in the——” She caught herself just in time, a vivid pink blush coloring her round cheeks.

“When did you go with Charlie?”

“It was over a year ago. Went with 'im for over a month. I've got a new fellow now, Bertie Clemmons. He's dumb, too, drives a lorry, but he has these gorgeous muscles——”

“I suppose people in town are distressed over Charlie,” I said, cutting short her paean on Bertie's attractions.

“Everyone's distressed,” she retorted. “Charlie was a character and some poked fun at him, but we'll all miss him. These things happen.”

She shook her head, looking quite philosophical as she smoothed down her frilly white apron over the tight black dress.

“No breakfast tray this morning, Mary?” I asked.

“The old la—Lady Agatha, I mean, she wants you should have breakfast with her in her room. Cook's sending up a tremendous tray——”

“Aunt Agatha isn't up yet?”

Mary shook her head. “Shockin', isn't it? She's usually up and tearin' things apart by six, at least. The creepy one—Mildred, I mean—she said Lady Agatha should stay in bed today, and the old lady is throwin' all kinds of fits——”

“Thank you, Mary,” I said. “I'll go to her room at once. Oh, by the way, has there been a call for me?”

“No, ma'am.”

“I'm expecting one. It's very important. If I'm not downstairs when it comes, be sure to send for me.”

“Certainly,” Mary replied saucily.

I met Mildred on my way to Aunt Agatha's room. The nurse looked properly cowed after the reign of terror my aunt had no doubt instigated on her behalf. Sniffling and shuffling at a dreary pace, Mildred seemed to be on the verge of tears, her dark brown eyes glistening damply.

“I can't take much more of it,” she whined. “I just try to do my job, and she treats me like—like I'm some kind of insect. I'll quit. That's what I'll do. Dr. Matthews was so kind, getting me this position. I hate to disappoint such a fine man, but——”

“Please, Mildred,” I said, impatient with her. “Stop sniveling. My aunt means well—you know that. Is she—is she ill? Mary said that you insisted she stay in bed. Is something——”

“She looks a little pale and drawn. She needs another day of rest, and if she goes galloping about I'm not going to be responsible.” She gave me a defiant look. “No one seems to realize I'm a
nurse
. I can't help it if I'm not sparkling and brilliant like everyone else around here.”

“Of course not,” I said, forcing back a smile.

“I'll quit. Dr. Matthews can find someone else.”

Still sniveling, she crept on down the hall. I wouldn't have been at all surprised to see her vanish into the woodwork.

I expected to find Aunt Agatha in a rage, but instead she was sitting up in bed with a pleasant smile on her lips, short sandy hair disheveled. She looked weary, I thought, the plain face sagging, lined with fatigue. Wearing an apricot-colored robe with froths of beige lace, the blue bedcovers pulled up over her legs, she was pouring coffee from a stout silver pot and eyeing the lavish breakfast tray on the bedside table. Newspapers were scattered over the bed, and there was the inevitable pile of old books.

“I've been doing the crossword puzzle,” she said gaily. “I need a four-letter word—leader of a religious sect. Priest, parson, rabbi—none of them fit.”

“Guru?” I suggested.

“Marvelous! That's it. Why didn't I think of it? Come sit, Susan. Let me pour you some coffee. Cook's baked some heavenly sweet rolls—my favorite kind. My, you're looking chipper this morning.”

“You're not,” I said.

“What an outrageous thing to say!”

“I met Mildred in the hall, and——”

“Horrid creature! I took her pill, but that didn't satisfy her. She had to keep hovering! I wasn't very
nice
to her, I'll readily admit, but she's so dreary!”

“She said you need to stay in bed for another day.”

“I fully intend to,” she replied, surprisingly agreeable, “but not because
she
said so. I feel rather—lazy today. I've decided to stay in bed and read. I have these old Dorothy Sayers novels—I adore Lord Peter Wimsey, don't you?—and besides, dear, I should think it would be more fun for you and Craig to be alone. That's really why I'm staying in bed. I'm playing matchmaker in my own sly way.”

“I think we should phone Paul,” I said firmly.

“Nonsense! Let an old lady indulge herself. Gracious, Susan, if I'd known you were going to carry on this way I'd have popped out of bed at the crack of dawn and joined you for a game of tennis! I plan to reread
Gaudy Night
and
The Nine Tailors
.”

“You're certain you're feeling all right?”

“Darling, I feel glorious. What do I have to do to
convince
you, jump up and do the Charleston? I just feel like being lazy today, and it's been so long since I've read any Sayers. I can't think of a more delicious way to spend the day.”

She looked up at me with twinkling blue eyes. She had too much vitality to be really ill, I thought, deciding not to worry about it just yet. I would certainly phone Paul if she wasn't her old self tomorrow, but perhaps she really was merely tired from all the recent excitement. At least she was taking her pills, and that in itself was reassuring. She poured a cup of coffee for me and passed the tray of flaky, warm cinnamon rolls.

BOOK: Stranger by the Lake
3.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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