The Betrayed (9 page)

He slumped in a chair at the breakfast table and she hurried to gather a wet cloth, aspirin and a glass of water. She handed him the aspirin and he swallowed them down. His hands seemed steady as he held the glass, which was a good sign.

“This may sting a bit,” she said as she patted his head just above the ear, trying to remove the dried blood. “The blood is caked in your hair, so I can’t see the injury. But it’s all dried, so that’s a good sign.”

“It doesn’t feel like a good sign.”

“Give the aspirin time to work.”

She blotted at the blood again and finally removed enough to lift his hair and get a good look at the cut. “It’s a pretty good gash. About an inch long, but it’s not bleeding anymore. It needs to be cleaned, though, and you might need stitches.”

His eyes widened. “No. I’m sure I’ll be fine if it’s cleaned up.”

Instantly, Danae’s senses went on high alert. The man was a contractor, and based on the scars she’d seen on his arms and hands, he was no stranger to injury on the job. Was she really supposed to believe that he was scared of doctors? Something about Zach didn’t add up—hadn’t added up from the beginning—but she’d been unable to put her finger on what.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

His eyes flickered a little, and she knew he was trying to decide what to say. She’d altered, edited and otherwise rewrote the truth so many times before that she recognized a cover story in progress, but Zach wasn’t as adept as she was. Wasn’t used to lying, so he gave himself away.

“I was restless last night and couldn’t sleep, so I came to the house hoping to catch the intruder in the act.”

She studied his face, but all she could see was the look of failure and a bit of embarrassment. It appeared he’d decided to tell the truth, which sent her right from concerned to angry.

“You have no business poking into things you weren’t hired for,” she said.

“I disagree. If someone was in the house yesterday, then that means they were inside when I was working. That puts me at as big a disadvantage as you, and I don’t think I should have to work that way any more than you should.”

She clenched her jaw, but couldn’t formulate a good argument. Zach did have the right to feel safe in his work environment, but she still couldn’t approve of what he’d done, especially as he hadn’t even bothered to talk to her before doing it.

“So you thought you’d do what—take a picture? It’s not like you know enough people in Calais that you could identify the intruder, even if you managed to see him.”

He shrugged. “I guess I figured I’d catch him and put the whole thing to bed.”

She stared. “Have you lost your mind?”

He gave her a half smile and pointed to the gash. “Maybe a bit of it leaked out.”

“That’s not even remotely funny. You could have been killed, and don’t bother trying to tell me that you fell and hit a rock. I looked and there wasn’t a rock anywhere near you, much less under your head. Besides, I’ve seen plenty of people clocked with a beer bottle and know what a blow to the side of the head looks like.”

The smile slipped from his face. “I was hiding there, at the brush in the edge of the driveway, and I saw something move on the far side in the swamp. I waited for the clouds to clear to get a better look, but he must have left by the time the moonlight came.”

“And then someone hit you?”

He frowned and stared down at the floor, his brow scrunched. Finally he shook his head. “Not then. First, the scream came.”

Danae’s heart leaped in her chest. “What scream?”

“I don’t know. It sounded like it came from inside the house, but it echoed everywhere. It was awful—like someone in agony. Then a light appeared in the top window of the house and the scream stopped. A second later, I heard footsteps behind me, but before I could turn around, he clocked me.”

She struggled to process the information, trying to put it all in a rational perspective. “What kind of light—flashlight, a room light?”

“Neither. It was more of a small glow that grew in size, pulsing as it got bigger. I could see it upstairs, through the window on the landing.”

“Then what was it?”

He hesitated, and she could tell he didn’t want to say.

“Zach, what did you see?”

“It looked human.”

Danae barely managed to keep her shock from showing. Under other circumstances, she would pass off Zach’s claim as a symptom of his head injury. He’d simply seen the light after someone cracked him on the head and was confused now.

But what were the odds that they had both seen a corporeal entity on the same night? She needed to know just how bad that crack on Zach’s head was.

“Are you still dizzy?” she asked.

“Yeah, a little.”

“I’m going to take you to Doc Broussard.”

His eyes widened. “No, I don’t need to see a doctor. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not asking you. You were injured on my property while under the employment of the estate I’ll inherit. It’s a liability issue, so you’ll see the doctor. We can wait for a decent hour to call William, but I bet he says the same thing.”

Zach frowned but he’d been in construction long enough to know the drill. “Surely the doc won’t be up yet, either, much less open for business.”

“He’s an early riser, and he’s always open for emergencies. I’ll call him from my car as soon as I can get a signal. Can you walk?”

He rose slowly from the chair. “Yeah, the dizziness is starting to go away.”

“Good,” she said.

Maybe when it cleared completely they could make more sense of it all.

Chapter Nine

Doc Broussard was a kind-looking silver-haired gentleman who smiled at Danae and nodded at Zach as they walked into his clinic. Zach’s head still pounded from the hit, but he wasn’t about to admit that to the doctor or Danae. If Danae even suspected he wasn’t up to par, she could easily have him removed from the job, and that would ruin everything.

Doc Broussard introduced himself and directed Zach to sit on an examining table. “Looks like you took a crack to the head. William said he was hiring someone to work on the house. It wasn’t supposed to work on you.”

Zach glanced at Danae, but her jaw was set. Clearly, she wasn’t interested in volunteering details. He didn’t understand her reasons, but figured it was smart to follow her lead. Danae had lived here for six months and knew everyone. If she wanted to keep the whole thing quiet, then that was what he’d do.

Doc Broussard parted Zach’s hair and studied the gash. “You’ve got a pretty good cut here. I could put a couple of stitches in to help it close faster. Wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

Zach looked over at Danae.

“That would be great,” she said, “and please be sure to send William the bill. The estate will pick up the cost.”

“Of course,” Doc Broussard said as he began threading a needle. “Injured on the job and all that. Of course, this happened sometime last night and that gash was made by something smooth, like a crowbar. But I’m going to assume you have your reasons for wanting people to think he was injured while making repairs.”

Danae sighed. “We’ve had some...unexplained things happening at the house. Zach thought he’d play hero last night and see if he could catch someone in the act.”

Doc Broussard looked at Zach. “And you caught the raw end of it.”

“I’m afraid so,” Zach said.

“Humph.” Doc Broussard shook his head and started stitching. “You’re not the first to sit on my table and tell me a story about strange things in that house, and I’m guessing you won’t be the last.”

Danae’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Who else?”

“A couple of the women hired to clean. One had a pretty good scrape and the other bruised her knees pretty good.”

“What happened to them?” Danae asked.

“They claim they saw a ghost.”

Danae sucked in a breath. “I heard the rumors, but I always dismissed them as the fancies of simple minds. Was the ghost a woman?”

Doc Broussard shook his head. “They didn’t specify. They said it appeared right in front of them and they took off out of the house. One fell in the entry and bruised her knees on the marble floors, and the other caught her arm on the end of one of those ornamental columns in the entry and that gave her the scratch.”

Danae frowned. “William said he couldn’t find anyone in Calais to clean. They were all scared.”

Doc Broussard nodded. “They weren’t the first to hightail it out of that house crying ‘Ghost.’ I guess the others managed to do so without injuring themselves. And then there was your sister.”

“Alaina?” Danae stared at the doctor, her shock clear. “I never heard of anything happening to her. I mean...except for the attack.”

“I think she and Carter were trying to keep it all quiet until they figured out what was going on, but she took a tumble down the stairs early on in her stay. Gave her a pretty good crack on the head, like our contractor friend here.” He cut the stitching thread and patted Zach on the back.

“Were you...?” Danae’s voice trailed off. “Were you my doctor...before?”

“No. Ophelia’s parents had doctors in New Orleans that they’d used for years and always took her there for checkups. She did the same with you girls.” He smiled. “At first, I was a bit offended, but then I noticed that a trip to the doctor always ended with a shopping spree for you girls. Ophelia always bought you the prettiest dresses.”

Danae smiled. “That’s a nice memory. Thank you for sharing that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I ask you another question?” Danae asked.

“Of course.”

“Did you know my stepfather? I know he was private, possibly even agoraphobic, but I figure someone had to look after him when he was sick....”

Doc Broussard nodded. “I made a trip to see Trenton once a month—more if he was ill.”

“Was he ill a lot?”

“Not really. If I had to guess, he was a good twenty years older than your mother and had the usual things that come with age and lack of proper diet and exercise—high blood pressure, high cholesterol and the like. Any of those combined with age and a weak heart could take someone out.”

Danae frowned.

“I know you want to figure out something about your past,” Doc Broussard said. “I’d want to do the same thing in your position, but I honestly don’t know what I can give you.”

“Surely you can tell me something about him. Anything?”

The doctor sighed. “You’d think after all that time I’d have an idea what made the man tick, maybe have an inkling of how he spent his time, but I don’t. He lay there in his bed wearing striped pajamas, completely silent while I did my exam. The only time he spoke was to tell me of a symptom or ask about a dosage.”

“That’s just strange,” Zach said.

“Definitely,” Doc Broussard agreed. “He was an odd man, but I never got a handle on why.”

“What do you mean?” Danae asked. “I thought he was mental.”

“Perhaps. Certainly, the indicators were there, but I always wondered what would show if he’d agreed to the tests I suggested.”

“You think he was faking?”

“Not necessarily. I think he was definitely suffering under some neurosis, but there was a cunning in him—something so imperceptible in the way he looked at things that later on, you’d convince yourself you hadn’t seen it.”

“You think he was hiding something?” Zach asked.

Doc Broussard shrugged. “Aren’t we all? But I couldn’t begin to guess what secrets lay in Purcell’s past that caused him to lock himself away in that house for over two decades. I’m afraid to even try.”

“It sometimes seems,” Danae said, her tone conveying her frustration, “that Purcell went to the grave still taking from everyone and not giving a single thing.”

“I’m really sorry,” Doc Broussard said and placed his hand on Danae’s arm. “I wish I could give you some answers.”

Danae gave his hand a squeeze. “I do, too, but I’m not giving up. I’ll find them. It just might take a while.”

Doc Broussard smiled. “I believe you.” He walked back over to Zach and took a look at his earlier work. “Well, this guy is patched up nicely, if I do say so myself. Just keep it clean and dry for a couple of days and let me know if your headache gets worse.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Zach said, gently probing his head. “Hey, I’m curious. You said you didn’t think I’d be the last person to sit here after being injured at the house. Any particular reason why?”

The doctor frowned. “Just a feeling, I suppose.”

“What kind of feeling?” Danae asked. “Surely you don’t believe those women or Alaina saw a ghost?”

Doc Broussard stared at the wall for a couple of seconds, rubbing his jaw, then finally looked back at Danae. “I guess I figure the house has been sitting there like a tomb all these years. Purcell was there, but he wasn’t living so much as he was existing.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed them with the hem of his shirt. “Maybe the house is coming alive after all these years...and bringing something with it.”

Zach narrowed his eyes at the doctor. “You don’t really believe that, do you? I mean, you’re a scientist.”

“That’s true enough, but the swamps of Mystere Parish are different than most. Things happen in them that can’t be explained in earthly ways. I figure that house has been so swallowed up by the swamp that maybe it’s become like it.”

Zach was momentarily taken aback. Last night, when he was walking the trail to the main house, he’d been thinking how different this swamp felt. How it felt alive. Now this seemingly sane and obviously well-educated man was saying the same thing. The problem was, it still made no sense, regardless of what feelings he might have.

“What kind of unexplained things?” he asked.

“Oh, ghostly lights and noises that can’t be attributed to man or beast...the usual sort of thing you’d expect to find in an area of the country where things are steeped in lore and some still practice the old ways.”

“But that’s not why you think they’re different,” Zach said. “Is it?”

Doc Broussard smiled. “You don’t miss much, do you? No, I have my own reasons for thinking the way I do. My own unexplained story.”

“I’d love to hear it,” Danae said. “I mean, if you don’t mind telling it.”

“Not at all. It was about this time twenty-five years ago and I was deer hunting. A fellow doctor friend of mine had canceled at the last minute, and my wife tried to convince me not to hunt alone, but I was determined. I was on call the following two weeks and I intended to get my one clear day in.”

He stared out the window and into the row of cypress trees across the street from his office. “I was tracking a buck—a good size based on the tracks—when all of a sudden, I got the feeling I was being watched. Well, there’s plenty of creatures in the swamp that you don’t want keeping that close an eye on you, so I stopped short and tried to get tuned to what it was.”

Zach nodded. “That’s smart.”

“Usually, but this time, it made me a sitting duck. There wasn’t a whisper of sound, not a single insect or even a breath of breeze. It was the most silence I’ve ever experienced and it was unnerving because it was so unnatural. I had just made up my mind to get the heck out of there when something hit me on the back of the head and sent me tumbling down an embankment.”

Danae gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

“My deer-hunting cap probably kept my head from splitting open, but I broke my leg in three places on the way down. Put me in the hospital in New Orleans for a month and rehab another two after that so I could learn to walk again.”

“You don’t know who hit you?”

Doc Broussard shook his head. “That’s where the unexplained part comes in. The sheriff—not Carter, as he was just a boy back then, but the sheriff then—was an expert tracker. He covered every square inch of that swamp in a mile radius from where I was hit. He didn’t find a single track besides my own, and there was nothing—not a rock or a branch or even a dead bird—to explain what hit me.”

“But,” Zach said, “there had to be something. You didn’t send yourself tumbling down an embankment.”

“No, sir, I did not. But whatever did didn’t leave a trace. Now, what exists in the swamps of Louisiana that can knock a two-hundred-pound man down without leaving a single track?”

“I don’t know,” Zach replied.

“The answer is, nothing on this earth.”

* * *

D
ANAE
INSISTED
THEY
GO
to the café for breakfast. Zach was a little rumpled, but his clothes weren’t stained, so he’d pass muster for the early-morning crowd, anyway. He needed to eat in order to take the pain medicine Doc Broussard had given him. Plus, she had an ulterior motive or two. First, she wanted to gauge Jack’s reaction to her now that the gossip had spread, and second, she was hoping to catch Carter before he left for his usual rounds.

Jack glanced at them as they entered the café, then turned immediately back to the grill, but not before Danae caught his scowl. Apparently, the cook was aware of her ascension from café waitress to small-town heiress, and he looked none too happy about it.

Fortunately, Carter was sitting at the counter, the empty plate in front of him letting her know they’d caught him just in time. She slid onto the stool on one side of him and motioned Zach to the other. Carter glanced at both of them, looking surprised.

“You two are out early,” he said. His voice was casual, but Danae knew the question was in his statement.

“I was hoping to catch you,” Danae said, keeping her voice low.

Sonia, the waitress who had replaced Danae, stepped up to the counter, a big smile on her face.

“Can I get you guys some breakfast?”

“Just some coffee for now,” Danae said, “and breakfast in a few.”

Zach nodded, cluing in to her desire to send the waitress out of earshot.

“I’m glad to see you here early, Jack,” Danae said as the waitress poured them coffee.

The cook turned to glare at her then mumbled something to the waitress and stormed out the back door. The waitress slid the coffee in front of them and gave them an apologetic smile.

“Apparently, Jack went on break, so I’m glad you two don’t want breakfast right away.” She grabbed the pot of coffee and headed to the other side of the diner.

Danae waited until she was out of hearing range then gave Carter a quick rundown of what happened to Zach. Within seconds, Carter’s face went from early-morning blank to completely alert and concerned.

“Damn it,” Carter cursed, keeping his voice low. “I have got to figure out how he’s getting into the house. I didn’t think many copies of that front-door key could be floating around, but maybe I was mistaken.”

“There’s probably not a lot,” Zach said. “I know a guy in New Orleans who can make duplicates, but he has to have an original to work from. My guess is that the house only had two originals when the lock was installed.”

Carter nodded. “And I figured because of the trouble and cost, servants would have received keys to the back door but not the front.”

“Probably true,” Danae said. “But you changed all the other door locks. Even if he has a front-door key, I seriously doubt he strolled up to the door, through the foyer and up the stairs yesterday with Zach and I right there.”

Zach glanced at Carter, who frowned.

“What are you not telling me?” she asked, looking from one man to the other. “Oh, wait. How could I be so stupid? He was already in the house, wasn’t he?”

“It makes the most sense,” Carter said. “He might have entered the house that morning, and when you arrived, he had to wait for an opportunity to leave.”

“But all the doors were locked after the boxes fell. Zach and I checked.” She sucked in a breath. “He was still there. Hiding somewhere in the house while we were checking the doors. Do you think he’s still in there now?”