Edge of Midnight (34 page)

Right. Tylenol was what she'd been given all the time she'd been here, and she could tell anyone who asked that it didn't do much for pain. On top of a broken wrist, broken collar bone, cracked ribs, concussion, and no place to go when she was released except Kelby's house, her period had started. She was beginning to feel decidedly sorrier for herself.

Considering the circumstances, it was generous of Kelby's sister to extend an invitation. How she might get there was a problem, because she had no money. She could walk, of course. Would she survive that? A soft knock on the open door made her look up.

“Hi.” Ronny Wells strolled in, tucked a loose strand of gray hair behind an ear, and plunked herself down in the only chair. “I hear they're kicking you out of here. I came to give you a ride home.”

“How did you know I was leaving?”

“One of my trainers has a sister who's a lab tech here. I know you can't drive, so I thought I'd come fetch you. Ready?”

“I guess so.”

A nurse brought in a wheelchair. Cary got in and was pushed to the elevator and through the lobby to the front door. Ronny pulled the van up. Cary, shaky and weak, got herself inside.

“You brought Ginger.” Cary reached back and gave the little horse a pat.

Ginger, standing calmly in the back, tossed her head.

“I thought you could use some company,” Ronny said.

That was true enough, but how about Kelby's sister? The house might feel like Cary's, but it wasn't. When they pulled into Kelby's driveway, Faye came out to greet them.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Cary said.

“Tell you the truth, I'm glad for the company. What's that you got?” Faye watched Ronny unload Ginger. “You brought a pony?”

“She doesn't have to stay, if you don't want her to. Ronny can take her back to the farm. Right, Ronny?”

“Why, it's just as cute as a button. I don't mind at all, just so long as I don't have to take care of it.”

“I can do that.” Cary hoped she could. She was feeling a little light-headed and her cough was getting worse.

Ronny told her to go on in the house, she'd see Ginger was settled in.

“Won't she be lonely here all by herself?” Cary worried that Ginger would miss the other horses.

“She'll be fine.”

Faye fussed around making sure Cary was comfortable on the sofa, brought her pillows and water, made sure the Afghan was available if she got cold. The constant chatter made Cary's headache worse. At lunchtime, Faye brought in a tray of pasta salad, a bowl of sliced fruit, and iced tea. She sat in the easy chair by the fireplace while they ate and kept up the constant stream of talk. Cookies and chocolate ice cream followed.

“There now,” Faye said. “I'll just clean all this up in a jiffy and you rest. You need anything?”

About thirty minutes later, Faye came back. “You know? I don't think there's any reason why I need to stay any longer. I think I'll just take off this afternoon. I was going to wait a few days. Take care of some loose ends, you know? But I don't really think that's necessary, do you? And I would like to get home. I'm missing my children. And my husband, too, of course. And I know there's a million things piling up at home I need to tend to. So it seems to me it just makes sense that I get all my things gathered up and packed in the car and I'll just take off.”

“Oh—” Cary started to get up.

“No no, that's all right. Don't you move. You are perfectly welcome to stay just as long as you like. Probably better that way, you know. Somebody here.”

Ah. That explained the invitation. Faye wasn't comfortable leaving the place empty. She needed a house sitter.

“When you do leave, just lock the doors and take the keys to the Realtor. I put his card on the mantle. Do you have anyone to call if you need anything?”

“Yes. Ronny, the woman who brought me here and—uh, Elizabeth, Dr. Farley, the woman I work for.”

“You'll be all right then? Because I can stay, if you like, I don't want to abandon you. You being under the weather and all. So just say the word and I'll stay.”

“No,” Cary said. “I'll be fine. You just go ahead and leave.”

“Well, if you're sure.”

“I'm sure.” With her head pounding the way it was, Cary was more than sure.

When Faye finally left, the silence was so light and lacy that Cary thought it was better than a basket of sparkly diamonds.

Two hours later, that very same silence began to feel oppressive. The house groaned in the wind and tree branches tossed outside. When she could stand it no longer, Cary got herself up and followed the stone path out to the barn, telling herself Ginger must be lonely. She brought the horse in to share some microwave popcorn and an old Jack Lemmon movie on television.

*   *   *

Cary coughed, clicked off the television, and switched on the table lamp. The mantel clock read ten-fifteen. Despite her pain, she'd dozed off trying to watch the movie. Her vision being what it was, she mostly just listened. Ginger, dozing by the arm of the sofa, shook her head as though relieved the movie was finally over.

Carefully, Cary pushed herself to a sitting position, rested a moment, and then stood. With her left arm in a cast, her right shoulder in a sling to allow the collar bone to mend, her cracked ribs ready to shriek at deep breaths or sudden moves, Cary felt she was in danger of shattering at the touch of a feather. She put a hand on Ginger's halter and they went through the kitchen, across the screened porch, and down the steps. Feeling with the toe of her shoe, she found the stone path that led to the barn. In city terms, it was a block from the house.

She needed to find another place to live, with a shed or barn for Ginger. Even though Faye said stay as long as you want, Cary felt uneasy. Because of all that's happened, she told herself. She was traumatized by all she'd gone through. A nervous, tight feeling of eyes watching her made her look around. Not that she could see anything. The night was black, overcast with clouds that covered the stars and moon. Fortunately, she had Ginger and could feel the flagstones beneath her feet. If she felt grass she'd know she strayed from the path.

Where was Mitch? At home? She'd had a dream in the hospital that he'd come to see her. Don't worry. He didn't know where she was. She'd be fine. Wind brushed her face with a strong smell of corn. The stalks whispered and rattled. Just one night, she promised herself. She'd be okay for one night. If she was still jittery tomorrow, she'd figure something out. Call Ronny, talk with Stephanie. Stephanie owed her some money for the days she took care of Elizabeth. Surely enough for a motel room for a few days.

Maybe Mitch understood everything was different now, that she wouldn't go back with him. What a fairy tale. Much as she wanted to believe it, she knew that wasn't like him. I can survive, she told herself. Broken bones and bruises would heal. I'll miss Arlette, and think of her always, but I'll live.

She rolled the barn door open, reached inside, and turned on the switch that flooded the outside area with light. The stall was all ready for Ginger. Ronny had seen to it that fresh straw was on the floor and hay in the manger. Ronny was turning into a friend. When Cary found a place of her own, she'd ask Ronny about a companion for Ginger. Used to being with a herd, Ginger couldn't help but be unhappy all by herself.

Ronny needed an accountant. When she discovered Cary was a CPA, she'd offered Cary the job, as soon as she recovered from her injuries. That meant money enough, she hoped, to pay back Kelby's sister for all that she'd taken and get a place to live. She could do the accounting and still take care of Elizabeth.

“Hello, Cary.” The words snapped like frost in the still air.

She whirled, heartbeat rushing in her ears. She couldn't see him. His voice came from the direction of the house. She hadn't heard a car come up the driveway. Had he been here for some time, hiding and waiting?

“Aren't you going to give your ever-lovin' man a big hug and a kiss?”

“Mitch…” She stood frozen outside the barn door, one hand on Ginger's halter. Where was he?

“You don't seem so thrilled to see me.” His foot crunched on gravel.

She could barely make out his dark shape on the driveway next to the house. “Don't—”

“
Don't?
Don't what? Tell you how worried I've been, how I'm going half crazy wondering what happened to you? How could you do that to me, Cary? Let me think some sick bastard grabbed you and killed you?”

“Everything's changed, it's not—”

“What's that? Got yourself a dog? Sure is ugly. Stinks, too. It'll have to go back.” His voice sounded closer.

“Just let me go, Mitch.”

“It must be the concussion talking. You know I can't live without you.”

“I'm not coming back.” She could tell from his voice he'd been drinking.

“Well now, that's where you're wrong, darlin'.” His voice got a hard, quiet tone that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “You're coming home with me. You belong with me.”

“No. Not any more.”

“We're going home and we're going to talk about what you did.”

She bobbed her head, trying to see where he'd gone.

“Didn't I tell you I didn't like it? That time before, when you took off? I guess I'm going to have to tell you again.” He sounded closer.

She flipped off the barn light, plunging the area in darkness. Holding Ginger by the halter, she tried to run. She stumbled along the stone path toward the silo.
If she could just get to the bridge.
Ginger, thinking this was a game, trotted easily along.

“Cary! Don't be stupid!”

She heard him thudding after her. Maybe she could lose him in the dark. With no light, he couldn't see. She couldn't either, but she had Ginger. Her breath came in short gulps, pains stabbed her chest. An ankle twisted as it came down on a loose stone. Mitch's footfalls got closer. The dark shape of the tractor shed was just ahead. Hide there?

“You can't get away!”

The open shed had nowhere to hide. She stumbled, shaking pain through the broken arm pressed against her stomach. She labored to pull air in her lungs.

“Cary! God damn it! Stop this!” His voice sounded right behind her. “If you don't stop right now, I'm going to make you wish you had.”

Keep moving. He can't see in the dark. Ginger can get us out of this.

Finally, the silo, tall and ominous, loomed in the black sky. Cary doubled over, unable to pull in enough air. Ginger nuzzled an arm, uncertain what was expected of her.

“Forward,” Cary whispered. Ginger trotted on. They stayed on the path, moved around the silo, and kept going. It couldn't be far now. Cary pressed against the horse, holding the halter tight.

“The harder you make it, the sorrier you'll be.”

He was so close, she heard his breath rasp as he sucked in air. What if Ginger couldn't get them around the rotted section? What if she jumped over it? What if she'd never been taught what to do if a great big hole suddenly appeared in the surface she was racing across?

Cary felt rough wood beneath her feet. They'd reached the bridge. A click to Ginger. They raced up the curve.

Footsteps thumped behind her. Too close, too close. They'd never make it.

Faster! Blood rushed in her ears. She was almost to the top of the crest. The rotted area was just below the highest point. Hurry!

“Cary! Stop!”

Such was his hold over her that she nearly obeyed. She was only making it worse for herself. When he caught her, he would hurt her more. Unbearable pain grabbed her chest as she struggled over the highest point. Momentum hurled her downward.

She stumbled and fell against Ginger. The horse missed a step but recovered and kept going.
Just ahead. Careful.

“Cary!”

Oh, God, two more steps and he'd have her. Run! Run!

Could Ginger maneuver them past the gaping hole? Keep them safe on the thin strip that wasn't rotted? Would their combined weight be too much, cause the bridge to crash into the creek?

Ginger daintily moved to the left without hesitation and trotted steadily on. They were going to do it, they were going to make it. Cary tried to take in gulps of air and set off a coughing fit.

Mitch grabbed the back of her shirt. She jerked away.

He stumbled. She ran, urging Ginger on faster.

“Cary!” His voice sounded hollow, and far away.

She spared a glance over her shoulder.

“Help me! I can't hold on!”

Where was he? She spoke a command to Ginger who stopped. Cary looked back.

“Cary! I'm hanging by my hands!”

He had fallen through the gap where the bridge had rotted. Had he really? His voice was coming from below. She hesitated. “I'll get help.”

“It'll be too late. I'll fall.”

A trick?

“You want me to die?”

No, she didn't want that. She only wanted to slow him down so she could get away. Now she'd gone too far. She shouldn't have tried such a dangerous ploy. Standing close to Ginger, she nudged the horse nearer the rotted section.

“Cary! Don't let me die!”

She inched another step. “Hold on. I'll—”

He grabbed an ankle.

No! No! He was pulling her in. She'd fall. Please, no! Shaking her foot to get free, she accidentally kicked Ginger. The horse circled, trampling on his hands. His hands slipped. He yelled.

She heard a splash and then a thunk, like a ripe watermelon hitting the ground.

Gasping in air, she clutched Ginger's halter, turned carefully, and made her way to the house. Pain spread out through her entire body. By the time she reached the house, she could barely breathe.

In the kitchen she fumbled for the phone and punched in 911. She said something, she knew she did, but she couldn't make it clear, and then she felt herself sliding down to the floor.