Help Wanted (15 page)

A
fterward Robin didn't remember getting home.

One minute she was caught in Parker's merciless gaze, and the next she was inside her front door, leaning against it, gasping for breath. She didn't know how long she stood there, shaking, trying to clear her mind, trying to collect herself, trying to make sense of what had happened.…

She could still hear Skaggs's oily voice, smell the liquor on his breath, feel the sleazy touch of his hand—and when she closed her eyes and tried to force the images away, she could still see the shovel leaning up against the tree, and Parker materializing out of the shadows.…

What were they doing out there?

And if Parker hadn't shown up … what—

Something thudded beside her head, and Robin jumped back into the hallway with a scream.

For a moment she'd forgotten she was leaning against the front door. She hadn't expected someone to knock on the other side.

Walt
…

“Who is it?” Her voice was shaking so badly she could hardly speak.

For a moment no one answered.

And then, hesitantly, “Robin? It's me. Walt.”

She flung the door wide and stood there staring at him. And the next thing she knew, he was in the hall and his arms were around her, and he was searching her face with an anxious frown.

“What's wrong? What's happened?”

“A lot. I don't know.” She was shaking her head and had a hold of his arms, leading him back into the kitchen. She saw him nod and shrug out of his jacket, and then they were standing beneath the bright lights, and things were beginning to come back into normal focus once more.

“A lot,” Robin said again. “I don't even know where to start.”

Walt slipped his jacket over the back of a chair.

“How about with egg rolls?”

Robin looked blank. “What?”

“I've always found,” he went on calmly, producing a sack that Robin hadn't even noticed, “that it's best to start with egg rolls. And then get on to the really important stuff. Like the chow mein.”

She watched as he put the sack on the counter and began pulling out little white containers.

“Sit down,” he said quietly. “Before you fall down.”

Robin sat. She sat and she stared while Walt arranged all the cartons on the table and folded paper towels into napkins and pulled cans of soda from the refrigerator.

“Pepsi okay?”

Robin nodded.

She watched as he sat down across from her. He rested his arms calmly on the tabletop and leaned slightly forward and brushed his long hair back from his forehead.

“Okay,” he said. “You'd better tell me.”

“You'll think I'm crazy,” Robin replied. “And actually …
I
think I might be crazy.”

“Well”—he sighed—“better to find out now before this goes any deeper.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Just tell me.”

She did. She started with the ad on the bulletin board and didn't stop until her latest encounter with Skaggs and Parker. The whole time she talked, Walt sat there with his unshakable stare, only moving one time to take a sip of his Pepsi. When Robin finished, she sank back in her chair, let out a sigh, and waited for him to say something insightful.

“I think you should eat something,” was what he came up with. “It'll help calm you down.”

“I was expecting some words of wisdom,” Robin said, sounding disappointed.

“Wisdom. Well.” Walt also leaned back in his chair. He put one hand to his chin and thought a moment. “It's not good to rush into wisdom. I have to think about it first.”

“I'm scared,” Robin said.

“For who?”

“Claudia mostly. I think someone's after her.”

“But someone definitely alive, I'd guess.”

“Then you don't believe in powers beyond the grave?”

“Sure I believe. But I'm not so certain it's just power driving that black car and turning off lights in houses and playing parlor tricks.”

Robin nodded. “All I know is that Claudia's in danger. She thinks she's doomed to follow the fate of her mother, and from what I've seen lately, she might be right. The rest of the family hated Lillith—and they seem to hate Claudia, too.”

“And say she's crazy.”

“Yes.” Robin nodded sadly.

“And what do you say?”

“The poor thing is terrified. I would be, too.” Robin leaned forward and looked at him pleadingly. “Can't we tell the police?”

“Oh, so we're back to this again. And I still say, tell them what?”

Robin frowned and settled back again. “Our … thoughts.”

“Hmmm … I'm not sure they'd consider that hard, fast evidence.”

Robin frowned. “I just wonder what Skaggs is doing around there anyway.”

“Besides being a pervert?”

“You're right. It is his greatest talent.”

“Well, the family's new—what do you expect?” Walt shrugged. “Skaggs came cheap, and they haven't quite discovered his impeccable character yet.” He held up an egg roll and studied it closely as Robin thought out loud.

“I can't imagine why Parker would be out there with Skaggs.”

“Are you sure Parker
was
with Skaggs?” he asked. “Or did he just happen to show up about that time?”

“Like the way he just
happened
to show up the day Claudia fell down the stairs? And the way he just
happened
to be looking for Claudia today?”

“He could be telling the truth. Then won't you feel heartless?” Walt scolded.

Robin considered this a moment. “He did seem pretty upset tonight. About Skaggs touching me, I mean.”

“I bet,” Walt said easily. “He thinks you're pretty hot.”

Robin looked startled, her cheeks going bright pink. Walt reached casually for the soy sauce.

“What did you say?” Robin demanded.

“You heard me,” Walt said. “It's not hard to figure out.”

“How can you say such a thing?” Robin sputtered. “With his arrogance and his—his—”

“All right, you don't have to convince
me
how you feel about him.” The corners of Walt's mouth twitched. “I'm just telling you what—as a
guy
—I know. And I
know
Parker Swanson would like to be …
involved
with you.”

“This is so silly.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest. “I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“We don't have to. What would you like to talk about?”

“You can be so frustrating!”

“Um-hmm. It's one of my strong points.” Walt broke open a fortune cookie. “This is yours. I'll read it to you.”

“I don't want to hear it,” Robin said, sulking. “Not if it's anything like the rest of my life these days.”

“You're going to be very rich and marry an old man named Herk,” Walt recited solemnly.

Robin tried to glare at him but failed miserably.

She groaned. “I don't want to laugh. I'm not in the mood. You're not taking any of this seriously.”

“On the contrary, I'm taking this
very
seriously. I think someone could be in danger here, but I'm not sure it's Claudia.”

Surprised, Robin looked up.

“No? Then who?”

For a long moment Walt gazed at her.

Robin watched him reach slowly into his shirt pocket and pull out a piece of paper. He leaned across the table and held it out to her, but she only stared.

“What's that?” she whispered.

“It was on your front door when I got here tonight,” he said. “Didn't you see it?”

Robin couldn't speak. She could only shake her head.

“Which means either you were so upset that you just didn't notice …” He paused and took a deep breath. “Or that someone—whoever it was—put it there
after
you came inside.”

Robin felt her skin go cold.

“I … I can't read it,” she said.

“You don't have to. I already did.”

Walt crumpled the paper in his fist and laid it on the table between them.

“It says … ‘Stay away from Claudia or you'll be next.'”

T
he room seemed to recede around her.

Robin gripped the edge of the table until Walt's face came slowly back into focus.

“We have to go to the police” was all she could think of to say.

“We can't go to the police,” Walt said again, just as patiently. “They'll say it's just kids playing jokes on each other. Which it might be. Except it's not funny.”

“So … so does this mean”—Robin swallowed hard—“that someone might try to … kill me or something?”

“I think someone is trying to
scare
you. Just like they're trying to scare Claudia.”

“Well, they're doing a good job. I'm scared.”

“You don't have to be scared. Nothing's going to happen to you.”

Robin stared at him. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I won't let it,” Walt said simply. “Now.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, deep in thought for a long moment. “Why would someone want Claudia to think her mother's after her?”

“To …” Robin shrugged. “I don't know. To make her scared, like you said. To make her feel … stalked. Terrorized.”

“Try insane.”

“What?”

“To make Claudia think she's losing her mind. Just like her mother supposedly did.”

“You said ‘supposedly.' You think maybe Lillith wasn't crazy?”

“Is Claudia? We don't
know
what happened when Lillith was alive, but if someone keeps trying to brainwash Claudia into thinking her dead mother's after her, why
shouldn't
Claudia think she's insane? Or more important”—Walt frowned—“why shouldn't everyone
else
think Claudia's insane?”

“You mean …” Robin's mind was stumbling, trying to keep up. “You mean if people think Claudia is insane—”

“They'd have to
prove
it first. But say they did. If she's declared incompetent, what could happen?”

“They could lock her up? They could put her somewhere? An institution?”

“And what would she stand to lose?”

Robin looked baffled. “You've lost
me.”

“Family support? Approval? Dowry? Inheritance? Allowance? Any of those ring a bell?”

Robin sat up straighten “There is some kind of an inheritance—something split between her and Parker, that they're supposed to get when they turn eighteen.”

The grave implication hung in the air between them. Robin rubbed a chill slowly from her arms.

“Parker?” she said slowly. “Then you think …
Parker
is trying to make Claudia look insane so she doesn't get to inherit her part of the family fortune?”

Walt shook his head. “I don't know. I'm just speculating. We can only work with the pieces of the puzzle we have. There may be hundreds more pieces we don't even know about yet.”

“Well, I don't like being one of those pieces,” Robin shuddered. “Just because I happened to answer an ad on the bulletin board. In fact, I think I'll go over to Manorwood first thing in the morning and quit.”

Walt nodded. “That seems the sensible thing to do.”

Robin nodded in unison, then stopped and sagged in her chair.

“I can't quit.”

“Why not?”

“And just leave Claudia there with that … that vulture Parker?”

“We don't know if Parker has anything to do with this or not. Remember? We're just tossing out theories here.”

“Stop being so fair,” Robin grumbled. “And so nice.”

“I'm just trying to consider all the angles.”

“Walt, she doesn't have anybody! I'm the only one right now who knows something's going on—the only one who
believes
her! I mean, I've been right there with her, and I've seen things happen! I can't just go off and abandon her!” Robin crossed her arms on the tabletop and buried her face against them. “Don't you have any other theories you'd like to toss out?”

“Only one,” Walt said.

“And what's that?”

“I strongly suspect Claudia's not the only reason you're keeping that job.”

Robin looked startled. “What are you talking about?”

Walt smiled. “Vultures.”

Saturday dawned dismal and rainy, with stormclouds boiling in a pewter-gray sky. Robin stood at the window a long time and stared out at the steady drizzle. She hadn't been able to get Walt's remarks out of her mind, and she'd gone over them relentlessly all night long. It infuriated her, his insinuation that she might have any sort of positive feelings for Parker.
Imagine
—
Parker Swanson!
After all his blatant arrogance and conceit—after all the things he'd obviously done to Claudia to keep her vulnerable and upset! Robin fumed just thinking about it. So what if Walt thought Parker cared about her—so what if Claudia said Parker talked about her!
I
don't care
—
he doesn't mean a thing to me!