Winds of terror (5 page)

"There's something around here for her nerves," Mark said, as he fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table. Melanie was talking to Addie, patting her, trying to calm her.

Mark forced a pill between his aunt's Ups, holding a glass of water for her to sip.

"He was here!" she cried. "He was here, and he pulled me from this bed and said he was going to take me with him..."

"Who was here, Auntie?*' Mark asked in a soothing voice. "No one was here. You had a nightmare, and you fell from your bed. Now, do you want us to call the doctor to come and check you over?"

Addie appealed with frightened eyes to Melanie, as though beseeching the young woman to believe her. She reached out and clutched Melanie's arm, digging her nails inadvertently into the flesh. "Melanie, child, you believe me, don't you? He was here."

"Who, Aunt Addie?" she asked, gently removing the old woman's fingers from her arm. She tucked Addie's hand inside her own. "Who did you think was here?"

'Todd!" The word came out sharply, verging on hysteria. "It was Todd! I know it was! He stood right there at the foot of my bed, and he laughed at me and said that he was going to take me back with him, that I didn't deserve to live." She started crying again, and Melanie moved to comfort her.

"She just had a nightmare," Mark said. "It's her conscience nagging her."

Cale sj>oke for the first time, his face contorted with rage. 'That's a rotten thing to say, Mark. It's obvious she's scared to death, and you aren't helping matters any."

"It was Todd," Addie cried. "I screamed, and that's when he ran around the bed and grabbed me and started shaking me, saying he was taking me with him. When I kept screaming, he ran right out that door!"

"Aunt Addie, if this keeps up, we're going to have to see that you get professional help. Your mind is going."

Cale lashed out at Mark once more, but this time he wheeled himself close enough to grab at his arm. "I want you to stop talking to her that way, Mark. You only upset her more, I think you'd like to see her committed to an asylum. Then you could take over her money and—*•

"Stop it, both of you!" Melanie said firmly. "It's late. We're all upset. I'll sit with her till she falls asleep, and we can talk in the morning. This isn't the time or the place."

Without another word, Cale wheeled himself around and disappeared through the doorway.

Mark started to leave, then whispered so Addie wouldn't hear. "She is sick, I know, but I still say that if my brother is blunting her, she deserves it!" And with that, he turned on his heel and marched stiflBy out of the room.

Melanie sat beside Addie as she sobbed brokenly. "You do beUeve me, don't you?" she begged.

To soothe her, Melanie nodded. Soon, the drug began to work. The old woman's eyes closed, and a few moments later, she was breathing evenly. It was fortunate, Melanie thought, that Addie had not suffered another stroke; tomorrow morning, she would call Dr. Ambrose and tell him about this.

It was late, but Melanie didn't want to sleep—not right then. It had been a difficult day, with so many things to be pondered. Of course, she decided, Addie had had a nightmare; she did not believe in ghosts. But where did the answer lie? When would there be peace for any of them in Beecher House?

She lay her head down on Addie's bed and closed her eyes, then sat up abruptly. A faint, tinny sound—^like the sound of someone crying in pain far, far off in the distance—echoed through the room. It made Melanie's skin prickle, and she looked around her fearfully, as though she expected someone to pounce on her at any moment.

She was about to cry out, but, just as quickly as the noise had begun, it ended.

Sitting there, in the now-silent house, Melanie scolded herself for being frightened. All this talk about ghosts was getting to her, and she could not let it—not if she wanted to be of any help to her aunt.

It had been only the wind. It had to be. There were no ghosts in Beecher House. Yet, from deep insiUe her a small voice asked, "Are you sure?"

She could not shake off her apprehension, and she spent the remainder of the night in a chair beside her aunt's bed.

Chapter 5

Melanie awoke feeling stiff and cramped. It took her a few seconds to adjust to her surroundings. Suddenly she was aware of someone staring at her. She whipped her head around to see Addie Beecher's eyes upon her, wild and frightened.

*'Why are you here in my room?" the old woman asked, struggling to sit up. "What happened?"

Melanie rose quickly and hurried to her aunt's bedside. "You had a nightmare last night, and I thought you might sleep better if I stayed here with you." She did not tell Addie that she, herself, had been too frightened to spend the night alone in her own room.

But the crafty old lady saw through her guise. "You feel it, too, don't you, my child? The evil vibrations in this house! Todd was here last night, you know. It wasn't a dream. He stood right there." She pointed a gnarled finger at the foot of her bed. "He said he would take me to his grave with him. You beUeve me, don't you?"

Melanie felt sadness as she looked at the old woman. No, she didn't believe her, but neither did she want to argue with her over something her aunt believed so firmly. Instead, she forced a smile and reached to plump up the pillows.

"I'm going to go downstairs and fix you the nicest breakfast you've had in a long time. Aunt Addie. Then I'll help you with a bath, and I'll change your bedsheets for you and freshen things up a bit in here."

Addie Beecher watched her silently, sadly. She knew that Melanie did not believe her, and that no one else would, either. One day, her nephew was going to succeed

in killing her and she would not be able to fight back. There was no one to help her. She fought back her tears until Melanie left the room, and then she burrowed her face in the pillow and wept.

Melanie hurried to her room to take a quick bath and change into jeans and a shirt. The house was still silent, but she could hear a rooster crowing happily at the new day, dawning. Inside, all was dark and gloomy.

"That's going to change as soon as I get through in the kitchen," Melanie decided. 'There's going to be some sunshine in this house!"

Soon she had a pan of bacon frying, filling the air with its tangy aroma. She broke eggs into a large bowl, and whipped the golden nuggets into a creamy froth. Then she buttered bread for toast and fixed a large pot of coffee. When everything was ready, she stepped out onto the porch. Sniffing the clean fresh air, she glanced about and saw what she was seeking—the climbing roses that entwined along the porch railing. After picking several, she returned to the kitchen and arranged them in a tiny vase for her aunt's breakfast tray.

Addie didn't eat much. She listened in silence as Melanie launched into an animated conversation about the changes that she wanted to make in the house.

"Oh, and I almost forgot," Melanie said as she snapped her fingers. "Butch should be here today."

Addie's hand paused in midair. "Butch who? I don't want strangers in my house, Melanie."

The girl laughed with delight. "Oh, Butch never stays a stranger for long. Butch is my dog!" Then she went on to describe the little black-and-white Boston terrier that Robert had given her the day before he left for Korea. "He's been my constant companion, and I couldn't leave him behind. I didn't think you would mind. He's really a very good dog. I'll get Mark to drive me to the depot to pick him up after lunch."

Addie had stopped eating and lay back upon her pillows, looking very distressed.

"Aunt Addie, what is it?" Melanie was alarmed, and she leaned forward anxiously. "I didn't think you'd mind. I love Butch so much, you see. I've had him since he was a tiny puppy, and I guess he's special because it's the last thing Robert ever gave me."

"It's not your having the dog that bothers me," Addie

said, sounding very tired, very distressed. "Todd won't: let you keep him. Don't you remember Snowball?"

Melanie sat straight up. "I always knew Todd killed Snowball, but no one else would believe me I And you thought so, too! Why didn't you say so?"

Addie shook her head. "What good would it have done? I knew the boy was evil, a descendant of the Devil himself, but no one else wanted to believe me. I kept silent whenever I could make myself. But I always thought Todd killed your little dog, Melanie, and I'm afraid for you to bring another one here." Addie looked at her with such sympathy that Melanie knew that the old woman really did believe her nephew returned from his grave to continue his evil ways I

She took a deep breath. "Aunt Addie, Todd might have killed Snowball, but he won't harm Butch. Todd is dead. He can't hurt anyone, and you must stop thinking any other way."

Addie finished her breakfast in silence, and Melanie was relieved to see the old woman eat so heartily. Then Melanie helped Addie into a chair while she put fresh sheets on her bed. "There," she said, smiling with satisfaction when she'd finished. "Doesn't that look comfy?" Then, she got a basin of warm water and towels and washcloths. When she returned, she gave her aimt a bath. Once she had her dressed in a fresh gown, she helped her into bed and tucked the crisp, clean covers about her.

"I'm going to start cleaning the house, and I'll check on you when I bring your lunch," Melanie said at the door. "If you need anything, just ring your bell."

"Melanie ..."

She stopped in her tracks.

Addie's eyes were wide with fear and her face was pale. "Melanie, don't bring that dog here, please!"

Melanie forced a laugh. "You stop reading so many ghost stories, Aunt Addie. You'll love Butch." She didn't believe in ghosts, and it bothered her that she'd let the old house get to her the night before. Moreover it bothered her to see her aunt suffering from hallucinations and nightmares; it wasn't good for her heart She decided she'd call the doctor later in the morning and tell him everything.

Mark was in the kitchen, devouring the rest of the

bacon and eggs. "How is she this morning?" he asked, in a voice that said he couldn't care less.

Melanie told him about her dog and about Addie's being afraid Todd would come back from the grave to harm it. Her cousin merely nodded, then said, "111 be glad to drive you into town, Melanie, any time you say."

She decided to give the downstairs as thorough a cleaning as possible before lunch. There was an old vacuum cleaner in a storage closet, and she dragged it out into the parlor. It took over an hour of pushing the old cleaner about to cover the large room, but she got rid of most of the dust. Then she waxed the furniture and washed the windows from the inside.

"Nice job!" Melanie whirled around to see Cale gliding into the parlor. "You've done the work of an army this morning."

She glanced at the big grandfather clock in the comer, gasping as she realized it was almost twelve o'clock. She had been working so fast and furiously that she'd lost all track of time. Cale wheeled his chair alongside as she hurried into the kitchen to prepare her aunt's lunch. She opened a can of soup, and while it was heating, she began making sandwiches.

"You had quite an initiation into this weird old house last night, didn't you?" Cale said, at last.

She nodded. "I did get frightened, and I hate myself for being so childish. I don't believe in ghosts. Addie had a nightmare."

"Sure she did," he agreed. 'The best place for her is in a rest home."

Melanie stared at him. She was suprised at Cale. Was everybody against her aunt? "All she needs is peace and quiet," she said coolly.

"Which she'll never get here."

Melanie ignored him and fixed her aunt's tray, then took it up to her room. When she returned, Cale was gone, but she saw that he'd prepared sandwiches for himself and taken them with him. He was a strange one, she decided, always keeping to himself in his room. Perhaps his being crippled had pushed him to the point that he preferred to be alone.

Mark came into the kitchen, a smile on his face, "ril be glad to drive you into town any time you say, cousin,'* he announced. He seemed unusually happy, all traces of

the sour disposition he'd shown the day before now gone. Melanie hurried upstairs to make sure her aunt was all right, and then left for town to pick up her beloved pet.

Butch shook with delight as Melanie tickled him through the wires of his traveling cage. Mark lifted the cage and set it on the back seat of the car.

"Maybe he'll bring a little life to the old morgue,** he commented, and Melanie nodded, eager to get Butch home and turn him out to romp and run. He'd been shut up in the cage for over two days.

As soon as Mark pulled the car into the driveway, Melanie got out and opened the cage. Butch jumped happily and began running in circles, barking and leaping into the air.

Mark disappeared inside the house, and Melanie walked across the lawn, smiling as she watched Butch romp. It waa a beautiful day, and she looked upwards at the clear blue sky and at the magnolias swaying rhythmically in the cool breeze.

She didn't have to be afraid of ghosts anymore with Butch around; not that she was ever really afraid . . . But, still, Butch was a great watchdog, and the old house would not be frightening to her any longer.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. She looked sharply to the second story of the house—to the room just to the right of the old playroom. A curiam had moved ever so sUghtly. Why did this make her skin prickle with fear? It could be Cale—but no, his room was to the rear of the house. Then it dawned on her . . . The curtain had moved in the window of Uncle Bartley's—the room that had been sealed for almost fifteen years!

She shook her head, chiding herself silently. She was being silly; it was only the sun dancing on the window-pane. The door was sealed. No one could be in there. Aunt Addie would not allow it.

Butch came racing across the lawn to jump at her, and he almost caught her oflf guard. He seemed to laugh at her as he went prancing off once again, his little corkscrew tail wriggling saucily as he ran.

"That's quite a bundle of energy you've got there."