The Fate of Mercy Alban (35 page)

A thought ran through my mind and took the breath out of me. “You just confessed to one murder and an attempted murder,” I said. “Why are you telling us all of this?”

“Why, to scare the life out of you, my dear.” She smiled at me, standing up and grasping the knife. “I find it’s always better to have my victims filled with terror and dread. It’s easier for me that way, invoking that kind of evil. Don’t you see, you silly girl, that I become much more powerful with those kinds of emotions swirling around me? I hardly have to do a thing! Just like poor Adele. She took one look at me and dropped dead.”

She laughed then, a terrible throaty laugh, and I could feel Amity shaking next to me.

“You were here the day my mother died?”

“Of course I was,” she sneered. “This is my home. Where else would I be?”

“I thought you were with Harris until the day of the funeral.”

“As it turns out, that little fool wasn’t the best babysitter.”

“Where did she die?” I asked her, my voice splintering. “They searched and searched but didn’t find her, until suddenly she was on the bench in the garden.”

“I was playing a little game with Jane.” Mercy raised her eyebrows. “Adele dropped dead when she saw me, but I took her into the tunnels that lead into the false basement until they had thoroughly searched the grounds. Then I laid her out in the garden. Jane’s face went absolutely white when she saw her. Alabaster!”

“Were you the one in the false basement? The one who broke into the house and went through my things? Why would you do that?”

“You are terribly slow, Grace,” Mercy said. “You’re not getting the theme. Let me spell it out for you, dear. Were you afraid?”

I could feel my legs trembling. If she had done it all simply to evoke fear in us, it was working.

She stood up, casting a long shadow on the opposite wall. It was then that I noticed her shadow wasn’t alone. I squinted to get a better look, and there, dancing on the wall alongside it, were four other shadows, moving closer to hers. I smelled lake water and my mother’s perfume, and I heard my brothers’ laughter so loud and raucous that I was sure everyone else could hear it, too. Their presence wrapped around me like a shield, and as it did, a sense of calmness passed over me. My family was here. And something else, too. It felt like the very house was standing with me. I wasn’t afraid anymore.

I took Matthew’s hand and I realized he was holding Mercy’s gaze and praying, soft and low, the words of a familiar prayer I had grown up with. His face was as serene as a lamb’s.

“You have lost, Mercy,” I said to her as coolly and calmly as I could manage. “We are not afraid of you.”

She moved toward us then, her eyes blazing, speaking words I didn’t understand, ancient-sounding, primal words. She seemed to rise up, gaining strength and power from whatever dark spell she was chanting.

“You all are going to be dead within very short order,” she shouted, raising her hand. “You will disappear just like they all disappear!”

Freeze!” A voice boomed through the room from the entryway. “Police!”

I turned around to see the officers slowly walking into the room, guns drawn, and exhaled deeply. I let down my guard just for a moment, turned away just for a second—we all must have. Because as quickly as that, Mercy was gone. It only took an instant for me to realize Amity was with her. That evil monster had my daughter.

Before the police could stop me, I rushed into the open passageway door.

In the darkness, I could see nothing beyond the dusty, spidery tapestry on the walls, but I thundered down the inky passageway all the same.

“Amity!” I shouted. “Amity, call out to me! I’m coming!”

I stopped, listening closely, trying to figure out which way they went, but heard nothing, only my own words echoing down the seemingly empty tunnels.

And then a singsong verse permeated the silence. “
The witch in the wood comes out to play …
”

My stomach tightened. “Mercy, you’re not frightening me!” I shouted. “Honey, I’m coming for you!”

I ran at full speed, just making out Matthew’s voice, calling my name, faint, in the background. But all I could think about was Amity.

My old senses of these tunnels shifted into high gear—I didn’t need a flashlight, I didn’t need any electricity—I knew where I was going on instinct. I was sure Mercy felt the same; this was her world, her lair. Twisting and turning we went, me shouting the whole time—“I’m here! I’m following you!”—until I was sure we were making our way toward the false basement room. The police would have no idea which way to go and would be far behind. It was up to me.

I crashed through the door to the secret room and flipped on the light to find Mercy standing near the sofa, the knife with which she had tried to kill Jane at my daughter’s throat.

Mercy was smiling a serene and staid smile, while Amity’s face was filled with fear.

“Amity,” I said to her quietly, calmly. “Look at me. Don’t be afraid. She feeds on fear.”

“
Come devil, come imp, come monstrous thing / That hides underground in the day
,” Mercy sang, the knife twirling in slow circles at my daughter’s throat.

“Mom!” Amity whispered. I held her gaze. On the wall behind her and behind Mercy, I also saw shadows.

“
Come alive this night and give them a fright / When the wood witch comes out to play
.”

Whether it was my family there to support me or some other, darker force, something overtook me at that moment and I rushed forward with as much hate and anger and determination as I had ever had. All these emotions fueled me as I planted my hands around Mercy’s throat and fell on her. The knife clattered to the ground as I heard her head hit the floor with a thud. I squeezed hard.

“Run, Amity!” I shouted. “Get back upstairs!”

“
Come devil, come imp, come monstrous thing / That hides underground in the day
,” Mercy coughed and sputtered, her eyes becoming fiery red. I didn’t care. No matter what evil lay within her, I would not let her hurt my daughter.

“You’re the only monstrous thing here tonight, Mercy,” I growled, my grip tightening on her throat, my arms growing strong with the support of generations before me. “This ends now.”

I saw the twinkling, the laughter in her eyes. “You’re right, Grace,” she sang. “It does.”

And then I felt myself rising up and crashing down onto the floor, Mercy on top of me. Now it was her hands around my throat, and I was powerless to stop whatever was going to happen. I could feel them tighten, more and more.

“How did you think you would ever get the best of me?” She laughed, and her grip loosened, just a bit. Through a cloud, I saw the knife raised in her other hand. I could feel I was losing consciousness, falling prey to the lack of oxygen she was forcing on me.

“No, you don’t!” I heard my daughter’s voice, far away in the distance, and saw Mercy fall to the side. Amity shoved her with all her might. There was a clattering, then, and scuffling for the knife. I grabbed for it and got the blade, its edge cutting into my hand. I didn’t care. I turned it around and grasped the handle and slashed upward, connecting with something soft.

Mercy’s face was a mix of disbelief and humor. “You can’t kill me, my dear,” she whispered.

I pulled back and, with all of my might, plunged the blade deeply into her chest. “I think I just did.”

We answered the police’s questions as we sat in the parlor. The 911 operator had heard everything, via Matthew’s cell phone call, and he and the officers had found their way to the basement room just as I had stabbed Mercy. Another squad was outside searching for the nurse’s body, which they found later in the garden.

I held Amity in my arms and stroked her hair. She was crying softly and shaking, and I tried to comfort her but I felt much the same way, as though I was shivering deep within my core.

“You were very brave down there, honey,” I said to her. “You saved my life.”

She managed a smile as we sat together on the sofa. “You told me to run, but I just couldn’t leave you. Why did she do that, Mom? What is she?”

My daughter’s eyes were searching mine for answers I couldn’t give her. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “But it’s over now. She’s gone, and she’s not coming back.”

Soon the coroner arrived, and they took Mercy’s body away.

“I’m the next of kin,” I told them. “When you’ve done the autopsy, I’d like her to be cremated as soon as possible.” I knew it was probably silly, but I did not want Mercy buried on this property or anywhere near the house.

When they had all left, and it was just the four of us in the parlor, I turned to Carter.

“You recognized her, that day when you were driving us to the funeral, didn’t you?” I asked him, remembering his reaction when we almost ran her down.

He nodded and sipped the last of his drink. “I did, child. I did. And now that it seems to have stopped raining, I’m going to head down to the carriage house,” he said, getting to his feet and smoothing his suit coat. “I could use some dinner and my own bed.”

“I know the feeling.” I smiled at him and stretched, realizing I could do with a little food myself. “It’s been a long day.”

After he had gone, Matthew, Amity, and I retreated to the kitchen. They both hopped onto stools at the high table. I opened a beer for Matthew and had just stuck my head inside the refrigerator when something Carter had said replayed in my mind.

“He said there was something worse,” I said, poking my head around the fridge door to look at Matthew. He wrinkled his nose at me.

“When Carter was telling the story,” I said. “He said there was something worse to tell, but he didn’t get a chance to tell it because Mercy interrupted us.”

“That’s right,” Matthew said, putting his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his palm. “But to tell you the truth, I really don’t want to know what it is. Carter’s down in the carriage house. Mercy’s dead, she can’t hurt anyone anymore. You and your daughter are safe. It’s over. And I think I’ve had enough of the supernatural for one day. I’m sure Carter believes his story is true, but for God’s sake …” He let out a deep sigh. “Can’t we just leave it? For today, at least?”

I thought I detected the urge to run in Matthew’s eyes. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. “You’ve got it,” I said, and pulled some cold chicken, lettuce, and an avocado out of the fridge with a weak smile. “How about a sandwich?”

I lay awake that night, with Amity next to me in the big bed, and Matthew—who didn’t feel right leaving us alone in the house—sleeping in the guest room down the hall.

Mercy had answered some of my questions—notably about my mother’s death and the identity of our intruder—and I knew I should be satisfied with that. But what Carter had said was nagging at me. What was the “much, much worse”? And did it have anything to do with Coleville’s death the next summer? I was so deeply ensnared in this mystery, I just couldn’t let it go. I punched my pillow and turned on my side, thinking that I would talk to Carter about it the next day.

But then my eyes shot open. I didn’t have to wait until the next day. Mercy had said: “He hasn’t gotten to the best part yet.” And then she referred to the manuscript, saying: “It’s all in there.”

I slipped out of bed and stole into my mother’s study, where I had returned the manuscript earlier. I flipped on the reading lamp and put the pages on my lap, and a shudder went through me when I saw the red smudges Mercy’s bloody fingers had left on it. I shook the image of her out of my mind and began to read.

Chapter Seven

The next morning, I made my way down to the dining room for breakfast, having every intention of telling my hosts that I’d have to take my leave. I had already made up a story—my father would need me back in Boston. But I didn’t get a chance to tell them anything, because the dining room was empty when I reached it.

I walked from there to the study to the living room, wondering where in the world my hosts could possibly be. This wasn’t like them, creatures of habit that they were.

Perhaps they were on the patio? I looked out the living room window—there was Lily, standing alone, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. I pushed open the French doors and was at her side in an instant.