September Wind (26 page)

              Someone groaned. “Leave me alone. I’m trying to sleep.”

             
Back in her room, she lay across the bed, remembering how close she had felt to Michael not that long ago. He lived just across the bay. And yet she had no one to turn to. If only she had looked at Peter’s card.

             
Her only hope was to find Samuel, someone who might not even want to be found.

             
Of course, there was always Donald Schillings.

             
As much as she didn’t want to go, she changed into one of the dresses Beatrice bought for her, pulled her hair up into a ponytail, and then painted on some red lipstick.

On her way downstairs, she heard laughter coming from the family room and leaned over the railing. Angellee and Felece were just walking out the back door with a tray of food and a six-pack of beer.

              “
Wait up you, guys!” She ran the last few steps and approached the girls as they poked their heads back inside.

“
I was wondering if either of you know Peter, if you know his last name.”

             
“
Well, let’s see,” Angellee said, thoughtfully, “I know of two Peters that come in.”

             
“
This Peter was here a number of weeks back, maybe four. He was tall, long hair... in a ponytail.”

“Oh, yeah
that
Peter,” Angellee said. “Well, I’ve talked to him several times, but I don’t know his last name.” She looked at Felece. “How ’bout you?”

“Nope, me neither.”

              “
Sorry,” Angellee said, “maybe one of the other girls can help you.”

             
“
Sure, thanks anyway.”

             
The two girls started off, but Emily stopped them again. “Say, uhm. How well do you guys know Donald Schillings?”

             
Angellee smiled as she stepped inside. “Mr. Schillings? Well, he’s the king around here.” She leaned back dreamily with one foot against the wall. “You see, he’s what you’d call a... well, an enigma, in a beguiling sort of way. You might have noticed how everyone sort of stands at attention whenever he comes around. Oh, but, he doesn’t mess with any of the girls, which is a disappointment to some of us... peculiar to others. But then I guess it keeps up the suspense, probably makes him more interesting, a little more mysterious.”

             
“
I see. Well, thanks anyway.”

Emily watched Angellee walk out, and then went to meet Donald, bewildered and wondering how she could’ve been so wrong about a person.

When she reached the parlor, he was pacing and smoking like a man with a lot on his mind.

             
He noticed her standing by the doorway. “Hello, Emily.”

             
“
Hi.” She watched him put out his cigarette and then walk into the hallway. He didn’t seem as serious as the last time she saw him, although as much as she tried, she couldn’t squeeze into that good feeling Angellee had about him.

             
After they settled in the limousine, he poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to her. She took a drink, letting the cool sparkling liquid tingle inside her mouth and flow down to warm that empty spot that was waiting. Nothing had changed there. Maybe the champagne didn’t do for her what brandy did, but it was a good start.

He topped off her drink and set the bottle back in its ice-filled bucket.

“I know you’re in a tight spot at the moment, Emily, and I’m going to be blunt with you. It’s for your own good.” He took a drink and then slipped an arm on the back of the seat. She tensed until she realized it wasn’t going to end up around her.

             
“
I’ve been alive many years longer than you have. And I speak from experience when I say that young women in the spot you’re in are far too often snuffed out like a match in a windstorm.” He tapped his fingers on the back of the seat. “Now, as for you, it’s simple. All you need to do is relax and let me help you. As I see it, you don’t have any other viable options.”

             
He was probably right. Still, with him as the hero of the Palace, in Angellee’s mind anyway, she just couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of him being her savior. She certainly didn’t want to be indebted to him. What really had her curious, was why he was interested in her in the first place. He hadn’t even tried to go up to her room. She wondered if he knew that her money and necklace had been stolen. Several times, she turned to him for an answer, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.

             
The limousine rounded a bend and turned into a restaurant parking lot that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. She moved closer to the window, trying to get a better view.

             
When they stopped, she quickly slipped from the car and went to the drop-off where she stood breathless, unbelieving at the mass of water churning and rolling for as far as the eye could see. The sheer energy of the waves was exhilarating, one after the other climbing higher and higher as they rushed to shore and exploded into the rocky cliffs below. Her breath burst at the same time, goosebumps chilling as they were at the wondrous sight. How could she forget, if only true, Michael’s wish to see this moment. She longed to go down and walk barefoot in the sand, realizing she would never feel this exact way again.

             
“
Let’s go,” Donald said, standing next to her.

             
His interruption was disappointing, but the excitement was there to recall and so she did as they walked inside.

             
The restaurant was luxurious, with an entire wall of windows overlooking the ocean. After the glass of champagne she consumed on the way over, and all of this beauty and extravagance, the world seemed better – for the time, at least.

             
A waiter arrived carrying a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice. “Would you like to start with the usual, Mr. Schillings?”

             
Donald nodded, and the waiter uncorked the bottle and poured a small amount. After a swirl of the glass, a sniff, taste, and a motion from Donald, the waiter filled his glass, and then Emily’s.

             
“
Is that okay?” she asked, when the young man left. “I’m not twenty-one, you know.”

             
Donald picked up his menu, looking inside. “Yes, I know.”

             
Apparently, Beatrice filled him in. The urge to ask him where her necklace and money were was almost too much to resist.

             
“
Would you like me to order for you?” he asked when she had mulled over the complicated food selection.

             
She placed the menu on the table. “That’s probably a good idea.”

             
He picked up a basket of rolls and offered it to her. “They have the best prime rib in the state right here.”

             
“
Well, uhm, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten beef.”

             
“
Don’t tell me you’re one of those, what do you call them, vegetarians?”

             
“
I don’t know about that. I guess it’s mainly the cows and their big brown eyes so trusting as they’re being fattened up just to be butchered. I do eat bacon sometimes, though.”

             
“
Interesting,” Donald said thoughtfully, “coming from a
country girl
.”

She wondered if he was trying to tell her something. She couldn’t remember if he was even supposed to know that—if she had mentioned it during one of her drunken stupors.

              A white candle burned within a spiraling silver ornament, augmenting the elegance of the perfectly white tablecloth. Light from the flames danced amongst the silverware and glistened against the china and willowy glasses. She took it all in until she felt his eyes on her.

             
“
I have a proposition for you,” he said.

             
“
A proposition?”

             
“
Yes. An offer.”

             
“
What do you mean?”

             
“
Well, you see, my wife died a little over a year ago and left me with two children. I’d like you to be their nanny. I have a cook, a number of housekeepers, and of course a butler. So you’d have nothing to concern yourself with except the children.”

             
She might have been thrilled with his offer, although she couldn’t help but wonder why he was so interested in her, a complete stranger. There must be hundreds of other girls willing to take care of his children. Stranger yet, if he knew about Claude, and it was apparent to her that someone did, why would he entrust them to her?

             
“
Have they started school yet? Or are they even old enough?” she asked.

             
“
They’re old enough, all right. However, after my wife died, I decided to pull them out. I tried to send them to a boarding school. But until my uncle die–” He stopped as if he’d said more than he wanted to.

             
“
Your uncle doesn’t want them in boarding school?”

             
“
No, that’s not it at all.” He gave her such a harsh look that she wished she hadn’t asked.

             
“
I’m sorry... it’s really none of my business.”

             
That made his eyes soften a little. “The main thing is that I found a tutor who comes in three or four times a week. No bureaucratic bull. No snoopy staff that way.”

             
“
If you don’t mind me asking. Who’s been taking care of them since their mother died?”

             
“
They had a nanny. Sylvia,” he said bitterly. “She left a while back. Some family problem.” He took a drink of champagne, studying her as he set the glass down. “You know, Emily, I’ve tried out a number of young women for this position, but... Well, it’s hard to find just the right help nowadays, someone that’s not stuck in their ways. Someone that’ll keep the children content. Pearl, the woman that’s been in charge of the household for years, has been keeping an eye on them. But she’s anxious to move back East with her family.” He scratched his head. “I guess I’m in a little spot myself. Anyway, Emily, the pay will be one twenty-five a month, plus room and board.”

             
Night was falling and floodlights above the outside window reflected a glimmering iciness that flowed across the lawn, down the cliff into the sea. The scene was breathtaking. She tried to imagine the excitement of living in a home with children. So why couldn’t she just come out and say “yes”? Why was it easier for her to focus out the window?

             
“
I can’t see how anyone could ever get used to such a beautiful sight,” she said, fascinated by how quickly the fog was rolling in.

             
He glanced out for a moment then back to her. “I see the ocean more as a resource.”

             
She thought it was funny how they talked as if they were looking at two different scenes.

             
“
I’ll have someone pick you up in the morning,” he said.

             
She heard the impatience in his voice and knew that this job, if she took it, would not be an ordinary one. “I should think on it.”

             
When they arrived back at the Palace, there was music and laughter coming from the lounge as he escorted her to the staircase. “The car will be here at nine a.m.,” he said. “Goodnight, Emily.”

             
She walked up to the landing, waited around the corner for him to leave, and then headed down to the lounge to see if Peter was back.

             
Once inside the lounge, she stood by the waterfall and scanned the room for Peter. He wasn’t there. Neither was Sam.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

It was still dark outside as Emily went to sit by the window to contemplate her options. The way she saw it, there were only three: The Palace of thieves, liars, and the lost; the streets without hope, and certain danger; or a place where two children longed for their mother. Finally, just before dawn, with her head in her arms across the table, she found sleep, knowing that when the sun came up she would be leaving with Donald Schillings.

              At five to nine, she was a little nervous as she headed downstairs, although now there was an expectancy and an excitement too. Ever since she woke, she had been imagining herself and the children together like a real family. She would be the big sister and treat them with kindness. They would look up to her and treat her with respect. Maybe this was exactly what she needed. Now at least she would have something to occupy her time until she found Samuel Dimsmoore.

Then wouldn’t you know, just when she was finally looking forward to something, a pesky little voice came to ruin the day.
So, what are you going to do, find yourself some happiness and forget what you did to Claude? No... no, of course I won’t forget about him... about Claude! But there’s no reason to think on this now. What good will it do? Have you forgotten, my running was not wanting to escape what I’d done, but out of fear of being condemned and judged without all the facts being known?

She closed her eyes and filled her lungs with fresh air. Right or wrong, she had to at least try to come to terms with what happened, not only the killing, but the running too, because there was no turning back now. She had made the choice the moment she left Claude in the barn and rode silently out of the yard with Steven.

              When she reached the parlor, she peered in to see the same man who drove Donald Schillings and her to dinner last night. He hadn’t said a word at the time and spoke with reserve even now as he introduced himself as Bruce. He seemed like a nice enough fellow, mild-mannered, a middle-aged man several inches shorter than her, with a round clean-shaven face so pale it was almost milky, except for just a touch of rose on each cheek. She wondered if he had pinched them like her grandmother used to do when she was expecting company. A peaked hat covered his large shiny head, and his wide shoulders neatly squared his dark blue uniform jacket.

They headed down the coast, then into the forest, Emily watching out the window for nearly an hour before Bruce made a turn onto Donald Schillings’ property. He closed and bolted the large green gate behind them and he drove up a straight narrow road. Giant redwoods towered on each side of the car and Emily huddled against the back seat, overwhelmed by the strange darkness. She glanced at Bruce for a hopeful sign, wondering at the same time if there was any truth to her grandmother’s tales of premonition.

Then without warning, the car slowed as they reached another gate. This one sat wide open, and as they drove through, all at once, the shadows of the forest gave way to an amazing vista of pristine grounds that seemed to encompass at least a mile or two of property; and in the middle stood a mansion. She couldn’t tell exactly what the building was made of, though it looked like some form of white rock. It had two stories, maybe three in parts, black shutters at each window, and a row of sturdy pillars along the front porch.

             
She slid across the leather seat, filled with a spirited curiosity as she looked up at a sculpture of a man in the middle of the circular driveway. Water trickled from the sphere of the world he held high above his head down to the hand stretched before him, off the tips of his fingers, and then into a pond below.

             
“
There’s Otto,” Bruce said as he pulled up to the mansion.

             
On the porch was a nicely dressed man, tall and thin, with graying slicked back hair up. He was standing between two pillars with his hands behind his back and an air of importance etched on his handsome face.

             
Bruce shifted into park, got out and went around to open her door. She stepped from the car and made her way up the steps. When Otto extended a hand offering to take her bag, she ignored it and climbed the last two steps and then, thinking it made no sense, handed over her bag anyway, and continued to the door, waiting for him to hold it open.

             
“
I’ll show you to your room,” he said as they stepped inside.

             
They walked through a spacious corridor with floors of shiny black and white tiles. They passed statues, vases, and polished oak doors that held the promise of exquisite furnishings beyond. A staircase wound gracefully to the second floor. She couldn’t believe such beauty would be hers to behold each day.

             
“
I must be dreaming,” she said, more to herself than to Otto.

             
The sides of his mouth turned up slightly, giving her the impression that his stuffy manner was, at least in part, his job. He moved to the foot of the staircase then stood aside so she could lead the way.

             
She slid a hand along the sleek dark wood banister as she moved up the steps eagerly taking in the scene from a lofty perspective. On the second floor was a large open area with plants and trees against the walls and along the landing that looked down onto the first floor. Otto indicated her room was the second one to the right. He opened the door, and she took her bag from him and stepped inside.

“Have you had breakfast?” he said from the doorway.

              Emily looked about the room, only partially aware of him.

             
“
I’ll have a snack sent up if you like. Maybe some fruit and cookies?”

             
She pulled her eyes back to him. “Oh, sure Otto, thanks. That’d be nice.”

             
“
And tomorrow morning… any preference? I could drop Pearl a subtle hint.”

             
“
Do the children like pancakes?”

             
“
Their favorite.”

             
“
That’s it, then.”

             
When he closed the door and left her alone, she whipped around and flung her bag onto the bed. She put an arm around one of the tall sturdy bedposts and ran a hand over the velvety spread that was almost the same pale green as the wallpaper. Beautiful black and gray rugs with swirls of red and green covered polished hardwood floors. An oak table with a vase of fresh flowers sat in the light of the corner window at the far end of the room. Two windows faced the front.

She opened a door, expecting it to be a closet, but instead found a large bathroom. She stepped onto the tiled floor that was so shiny she could see the reflection of the green marble sink. Across the mossy green wallpaper were hundreds of tiny sunsets. There was a dressing table; an extra-large tub under three narrow windows; and to the right was a shower with a glass door. She had barely imagined that people lived like this, now here she was, one of them.

              She returned to the bedroom and began to explore. When she opened the closet door, she found seven or eight outfits on hangers. She pulled a dress down, held it up, and stepped in front of a mirror. It was slightly on the large side, although she
had
always made her clothes big enough to give herself time to grow into them. She hung the dress and continued exploring. It felt a little like Christmas. On a shelf were boxes marked
women’s clothing
where she found jeans, blouses, slacks, pajamas, a robe, and a few other items.

Across the room at a corner window facing the back yard, the room jutted out eight feet or so. Below were railed steps leading down from a porch. There was a sidewalk leading to the back yard, through a row of trees and to a courtyard. Beyond the trees, she could just make out a basketball hoop, and further down a swing set. She was disappointed the swings would be too small for her. Although, just the thought of the children stirred those hopeful images she’d been having since morning. She couldn’t wait to see them.

              When there was a knock on the door, she expected it to be them and hurried over.

             
She was disappointed to find it was only the maid. She was a frail girl, freckles, on the short side, wearing a gray cotton dress the same color as the tray she held. Her light brown hair with tones of sand was pulled back into a ponytail that hung mid-elbow. She seemed very young, maybe fifteen or sixteen, yet her hazel eyes had dark circles beneath and seemed weary and suspicious.

             
Emily followed her as she scurried across the room. She set the tray on the table and swung around in such a hurry, the two collided. The girl winced, obviously expecting a scolding.

             
“
Sorry,” Emily said, “my fault.”  She glanced at the plate of fruit and cookies. “I’m Emily by the way, and uhm, thanks for the snack.”

             
The maid nodded and started back across the room. “M-my name’s Gabriel. I’m to let you know dinner’s at five-thirty.” She stopped at the door and turned a shoulder to Emily. Her eyes darted across the floor, over the table, and then down again. “Pearl says you’d best be on time. I-I was supposed to tell you that,” she added, seeming embarrassed by her bluntness.

             
“
Thanks for letting me know. Really, I appreciate it.” Emily stepped closer, keeping a comfortable distance.

             
Gabriel attempted a smile, rubbing a thigh as if removing perspiration from her hand. “H-have you been to the formal dining room yet?” she asked, glancing up.

             
“
Oh, no, Otto brought me straight up.”

             
“
I guess you’ll need directions then?”

             
“
That’d be nice. Thank you.”

             
Looking less anxious, Gabriel turned and faced her directly. “You know where the front corridor is? Oh…yeah, yeah of course you do. Well… unless you came in the back way. Oh, no, no you didn’t, of course you didn’t.” She laughed nervously, waving the remark off. “It’s the first right up the corridor. You take that, a-around a bend. Then you go up to the second… no, that’s not right…let’s see. There’s these columns you pass, but first…” Obviously exasperated with herself, she sighed, pointing to the doorway. “Th…there’s a buzzer at the foot of the stairs. You… you could always press that, and Otto will come.”

             
“
Then that’s what I’ll do.”

             
Gabriel’s eyes lit up for a moment; she nodded, and then scrambled into the hallway. Emily watched her head down the stairs, curious to know what made her so jumpy. She closed the door, and then finished snooping about the room as she snacked on apple wedges and frosted sugar cookies.

             
After a good rest, she headed down the stairs for dinner. She expected the children to burst from behind one of the doors, laughing and carrying on and then stopping suddenly, embarrassed when they saw her.

             
At the bottom, she looked back up just in case they were peeking down through the railing, although she was greeted by only quiet and emptiness.

             
She rang the bell, and was glad Otto didn’t make her wait more than a minute or two.

             
He escorted her to the right beneath the balcony, and then up several corridors, stopping to point out a large sunken family room behind a row of ivory columns. “A while back, this was their favorite room,” he said with a spark of emotion he hadn’t shown earlier. She rather liked that side of him. She smiled, thinking how cozy it looked with the way couches and chairs, with a large rug in front, surrounded a corner fireplace at the far end.

             
Farther up the hallway, just beyond the last columns, a left turn took them through a set of double doors that opened into a large dining room.

             
Donald looked at home in the striking room with its colors of autumn-browns and trims of orange. There were lavish moldings, a crystal chandelier, and rich furnishings of polished wood and pleated silk drapes. He stood at a corner bar, pouring a drink mixture into a crystal goblet.

Otto led her to a long dining table with a laced orange fabric running up the center. A petal-shaped vase of flowers sat in the middle. He pulled out a chair for her, and then moved around to the other side of the table, standing patiently as Donald took a seat.

              She was disappointed the table was only set for two, and hoped she wasn’t being too snoopy. “Sir? Uhm… I-I expected the children to eat with us.”

             
Donald picked up a fork and knife and watched Otto set a plate of food in front of him, then glanced up. “Maria and Nathan are in town with Pearl. You’ll meet them for breakfast. If you don’t already know, the kitchen is down the hall, first door to your left, and then a few steps up the foyer. I presume you’ve already seen your bedroom?”