Shades of Gray (12 page)

“Does anyone
know Gray did this?”

She shook her
head and swept a loose strand of hair away from her face.  “No.  He wanted to
protect her from leering busybodies.” 

“No one
questioned her absence?”

“When it
became obvious that Daria was no longer on the property, Reece provided an
answer for them.  He is such a vengeful, vicious man.  He convinced everyone
that Gray had beaten Daria and was responsible for her death.”

“But what
reason would Gray have to do that?”

Laura scoffed
and rolled her eyes.  “There is much about Reece Mullins you should know.  When
Reece realized Gray was interested in Daria, he decided
he
would marry
her.  Too bad, she didn’t feel the same way.  Her rejection came as quite a shock
to him.  He never accepted Daria being interested in Gray, even after they
married.  His contempt was hard to miss.” 

She tipped the
glass toward her and looked inside.  Distant clouds returned to her face. 
“Reece knew no one would believe he attacked Daria.  In his mind, her word
against his was laughable.  But he was clever.  This was his chance to ruin
Gray’s reputation.  When questions were raised, Reece claimed Daria’s unborn
child to be his own.  He went on to say that Gray discovered the truth about
Reece and Daria, went into a rage, and killed her.”

Kat reached
across the table and covered Laura’s hands with hers.  “And she wasn’t here to
deny the accusations.”

“It wouldn’t
have done any good if she had denied them.  No one would have gone against
Reece, even if they believed the truth.”

“So not only
has Gray lost his wife, but everyone believes he murdered her.”  Kat sat back
and crossed her arms over her chest.  “I know the town believes Daria is dead,
but is she still alive and living in Crest Ridge?”

The light in
the room faded, diminishing the cheeriness of the room.  Laura shook her head. 
“No,” she said, her voice hollow.  After one of Gray’s visits, Daria hanged
herself.”

Kat leaned in
and took Laura’s hands in hers.  “She committed suicide?” she asked.

“There was no
note, but what else can we conclude?  She had been alone in her room when she
was discovered.”

Kat shivered. 
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as though a ghost had passed through
her.  She expected Daria to materialize and complete the story Laura had
started.  Kat wondered if there were details that Laura refused to share or if
there was information that she wasn’t aware of.

Laura looked
over at her, stone-faced.  “Are you wondering if Gray wrenched her neck?”

Kat stared
back at the older woman, afraid of her own thoughts. 

Chapter 14

Kat locked her
hands on her hips and stared hard at the foot of the bed.  She had used Gray’s
room for over a week.  When had a simple chore turned into a complex odyssey? 
A quick tug here, a whoosh there, and the bed should be fresh, neat, and
inviting her to crawl back under the blanket and undo her work.  She cast a
quick glance at the closed, bedroom door.  If Laura kept the same routine as
she had for the past few days, she would make her upstairs rounds within the
hour. 

Kat glared
downward at the unkempt corner and inched her way to the footboard.  There was
no need to create unnecessary work for the woman.  Even moving at a slow pace,
she was more than capable of making a bed.  She closed in on the offensive
corner, lifted the blanket, and then tugged at the sheet waded beneath.  The
creases flattened, and she wiped her hand over the compliant material. 
Victorious at last, she continued around the frame, pulling the rest of the
fabric as tight as a sail in full wind.  She straightened her back, and smiled
proudly at her finished work.

Back-dropped
by a mahogany chest of drawers, Kat shifted the scope of her attention upward. 
The corners of her mouth drooped.  Gray’s dresser stood against the beige
colored wall.  The choice of paint color seemed a good compromise for a room
shared by a man and a woman, but the bureau in front of it was decidedly
masculine.  The dark stain and wood choice complemented the rest of the room, but
the piece was tall and heavy.  Kat tilted her head and imagined Daria sitting
at a skirted vanity to prepare herself for the day, not standing on tiptoe to
glimpse her face in the mirror.

A lace runner
spread across the top of the furniture and hung from both sides.  The frilly
attempt to shorten the piece did anchor it in scale to the chest and
nightstand.  Kat wondered if Gray had insisted on keeping the ensemble or if
Daria had been more willing to compromise her decorating style.  Other than
the. . . she turned her head for a quick glance around the room.  On second
thought, there was nothing in the space to indicate a woman had resided here. 

Sunlight
glinted across the room and shone through crystal decanters.  Behind the lined
bottles, tones and shapes shimmered on the wall, canvassing the area like wet
brush strokes.  Kat imagined the distant sound of glass chimes clacking
together.  All that was missing to bring the image to life was a light breeze. 
Daria’s framed portrait sat to the side of the artistic display, softening one
edge of the dark wood.  Something compelling in the painting drew Kat’s
attention.  She had to take a closer peek at the woman’s likeness. 

Kat glanced
down at her foot and wiggled her toes.  If Daria had secrets to share, Kat
wanted to uncover them.  This was the first day she had gone completely without
her crutches.  A short trip to the chest of drawers shouldn’t aggravate her
ankle.  The ache was no longer as severe as it had been days ago.  She breathed
deep and prepared for a quick hop and possible pain.  Leading with the pampered
foot, she pushed off, adding weight a pound at a time.  Her stiff-legged hike
wasn’t as graceful as she would have liked, but she did manage to amble to the
dresser without grimacing.  She caught her breath and looked at the still image
of the woman smiling up at her.

Laura had
blamed Reece for Daria’s death.  The town blamed Gray.  While both men were
strong, mentally and physically, one was malicious and the other was. . .
Gray.  Kat picked up Daria’s portrait and ran her finger over the grey splotch
on the bottom corner.  From all indications, Gray was a passionate man who
loved his wife.  But there was a warmth in Daria’s eyes that could turn a
brother against brother.  The artist had captured her desire without
embarrassment.

Gray and Reece
were neighbors, who had loved the same woman.  Jealousy was a powerful
emotion.  The scar at Gray’s temple proved that.  The mark also exposed
murderous capabilities in Reece.  Kat touched her hand to her shoulder.  She
had experienced his anger.  He was certainly capable of murder, but was he
guilty? 

With painting
in hand, Kat turned to face the bedroom.  She leaned her back against the dresser. 
Was it possible that Daria had become overwhelmed with her pain, loss, and
guilt?  Laura claimed the woman had ended her own life.  Kat lifted her gaze
above the frame and stared at the bed.  Losing a child had to be every mother’s
nightmare.  Kat raised a brow and licked her lips.  Especially, losing Gray’s
child.  His wife had been dead for several years, and he still grieved for
her.  She wondered what it would be like to feel that kind of love from him.

She imagined
Gray and Daria during their months of preparation and anticipation for their
baby.  Gray would certainly dote on the woman who carried his child, regaling
her, undoubtedly, with his endless plans for his future heir.  What woman would
deny him anything he asked?  Kat laid the painting on the bed and worked her
way to the window.

Pulling the
curtain to the side of the frame, she looked toward the thicket.  This was
where Gray had found Daria -- broken, beaten, and bloody.  What was she doing
there?  According to Gray, the woods did hold special memories for the two of
them.  Had she wandered in to reminisce?  She wondered if a chance meeting with
Reece had ended badly.  Surely she had not gone to the Mullins home alone and
in her condition.  What was it Gray had said as they ran to the carriage the
day of their picnic? 
Daria did something she thought was unforgivable.  She
tried to correct what she thought was a mistake.  In doing so, Reece caught
her. 

Kat leaned
forward and shifted her gaze to the right.  A gentle breeze pushed against the
barn door.  Gray was gone from the premises and according to Laura, he wouldn’t
be back until this evening at the earliest.  That would give her plenty of time
to explore the grounds.  She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped her
finger against her sleeve.  She wasn’t sure what she’d search for, but
hopefully, something would present itself once inside the tree line.

Daria’s life
had nearly ended, and Kat had sought safety in the forest.  Evil resided on the
other side of the property and had full access to the grounds.  Although she
had escaped Reece, it would be dangerous to assume she could rely on the same
good fortune as before.  This time, she would prepare. 

She pulled
open the drawer to the nightstand.  A silver pair of scissors slid to the back
of the box.  Gray had placed them there, along with gauze and a small pot of
ointment after tending to her wounds.  Kat picked up the cold instrument and
weighed it in her hand.  She touched the pointed tip with her finger.  It
wasn’t a knife or a gun, but the makeshift weapon would serve her purpose.  If
she encountered any unwanted company, a hefty thrust with the implement would
prove that she preferred solitude to company.

Kat slipped
the shears into her pocket and picked up the picture frame.  Although she held
the wood in her hand, Daria’s portrait remained on the bed.  The casing and the
art had apparently separated when it landed on the blanket.  One corner of the
portrait flared open.  Kat picked up the work and folded the scratched end
under.  She hoped she hadn’t damaged the integrity of the piece.  She pushed on
the frayed snip, rounding it from view.  Still too full for the frame, she
flipped it over.  Split into a double edge, Kat ran her fingernail between the
seams, freeing Daria’s portrait from the second layer.  She sat on the bed and
spread the hidden message flat.

Squiggly marks
seemed to indicate boundary lines.  Kat scanned the corner, looking for a
legend.  None was given.  Returning her attention to the scratching, she tried
to decipher the meaning of the map.  A concave arch was drawn on the left.  It
seemed to hover over a large, blue dot.   Broccoli shaped borders anchored the
ends. 

A waxing,
crescent moon and two lines of vegetables was hardly reason enough to hide a diagram. 
Kat raised her attention to the window and held the white fabric just below the
sill.  She lowered her gaze and widened her eyes.  In her hand, she held a
drawing of the property that separated the Mullins and the Gregory lands. 
Daria’s smiling face had concealed a secret.  Like da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, Kat
wondered what else was hidden beneath the smoldering grin.

She held the
map closer and studied each pen stroke.  KNO3 was printed under the precipice
of the moon shaped arch. 
kno3. 
Kat rubbed the rough edge of the cloth
between her fingers.  Were these the initials of three people who understood
the map?  Gray, Daria, Laura, Gregory, even Reece for that matter, none of
their names started with any of these letters.  It had to mean something else.
   

She doubted
her ankle would appreciate a rugged hike.  Leaning on one support would be
tedious, not to mention exhaustive.  There had to be a matching crutch tucked
away somewhere in the room.  She tried to remember where the first one had been
stored. 

Gray seemed
fond of disorder.  Kat bent to her knees and looked in the obvious place.  With
her torso nearly flattened on the floor, she stretched her arm and searched the
area under the bed.  Not even a speck of dust filled her palms.  Laura’s housekeeping
abilities excelled past the original clutter of the room.  She slid forward,
swiping her arm toward the end of the bed.  Wrapped wood caught her hand and
she pulled the identical crutch into the daylight.  She sat upright and
sighed.  Now that she would be able to cover a lot more space, she would be
able to explore the cave more thoroughly.  With a little luck, she might be
able to determine who KNO3 was and what they had to do with Daria.

****

Kat’s upper
arms burned from exhaustion.  It was difficult to slip past Laura.  The woman
had the uncanny ability to be everywhere she tried to go.  Her quest for bath
slippers had been just the diversion Kat needed to exit the back porch and head
to the tree line.  At least her foot hadn’t suffered.  Her boot gave her ankle
enough support that she should be able to meander around the thicket without
irritating it.  She wiped her hand at her face, pushing wet strands of hair
away from her forehead and stared back across the cleared grounds.  Gray’s
house seemed to be miles away, instead of the one to two hundred yards she had
traveled.  When her injuries were at their rawest, fearful motivation had
carried her to the Gregory’s doorstep. 

Inside the
woods, she leaned against an elm tree.  Rough bark scratched her head as she
caught her breath.  At least this time, she wasn’t being chased by dogs, a
horse, and Reece.  Light dimmed around her and the temperature dropped.  An
eerie chill surrounded her, wrapping her in a dark shroud of anguish.  She
shivered, hoping to overcome the foreboding memories.  With her crutches
clamped in one hand, she propped them against the tree next to her shoulder. 
She swallowed and pulled the map from her pocket.  Inhaling a deep, courageous
breath, she peered around the woods.   Diffused daylight illuminated the
landscape and brought to life shadows she had only glimpsed in the dead of
night. 

For as far as
she could see, trees canopied the space.  Oaks, birches, and elms swayed as
though breathing in each breeze and exhaling soft whispers above her head. 
Fern shoots sprouted close to the ground and waved back and forth like ripples
in the ocean.  Kat sneezed and wiped a finger under her nose.  Instead of the
salty spray of waves, the acidic smell of musk filled the air. 

She studied
the map and scooted to the opposite side of the tree.  Wet leaves slid under
her feet, bunching against a shallow root.  The scratching seemed simple enough
to follow, and she had found the cave without any directions once before. 
Surely she would be able to find it a second time.  Above the map, moss floated
back and forth.  She lowered her arms and blinked away a falling leaf.  A dark
opening gaped in front of her.  The cave.

Everything was
as she remembered, dark and ominous.  She inched her way forward, uncertain of
what she hoped to find.  She cast a quick glance toward the Mullins’ property. 
She had hoped to never return to Reece’s house.  Her shoulder twitched at the
nearness of his presence.  Turning her attention forward, she retraced the steps
that had led her away from her nightmare.  She scrambled over the downed log
with relative ease and remembered how she had labored over it the last time she
was there.  Just a few feet ahead of her, the cave opening beckoned her
forward.  She swatted her way through a spider’s web and entered the dark
space.

The dampness
was familiar, but she didn’t remember it feeling so sinister the last time she
was there.  Of course, then it had been night time and she couldn’t see much. 
Additionally, she had been in a lot of pain.  She moved from the mouth of the
opening and pressed deeper into the pit.  A strong smell permeated the walls,
and she flipped her hand in front of her face, trying to exacerbate the acidic
smell.  She was familiar with a cave’s dirt, stones, and dankness, but she
wondered if this new feature was part of its composition. 

Leaves rustled
behind her.  That isolated sound was definitely not part of an empty cave’s
structure.  She glanced around.  Solid walls surrounded her.  She listened
again.  If it was an animal, it would leave as quickly as it had arrived. 
Steps continued closer, measured and rhythmic like a person’s gait.  Kat
flattened herself against the wall.  Her hand shook and she raised it to cover
her mouth, afraid she would cry out.  It couldn’t be Gray.  He would be gone
until tomorrow.  Laura had explained his plans in detail.  A fleeting thought
of Gray’s mother walking to the woods entered Kat’s mind.  That wasn’t a likely
scenario.  She never left the house.  The footsteps halted, and Kat held her
breath.  She had hoped the person responsible for the noise would retreat. 
Gracious
Mary.  Please, don’t let it be Reece.