The Dark: A Collection (Point Horror) (27 page)

"The servants have
been instructed to obey you as if you were us," Mrs. Shipley
assured Ronnie and Bianca. "Here's one of our credit cards."
She handed it to Bianca. "You can charge up anything you might need
for the trip. Anything at all. There's no limit, not for Little
Katie's angel."

Bianca smiled. She'd
been trying extra hard to reassure the Shipleys about her ability to
take care of Little Katie by herself.

Ronnie positioned
himself with Bianca and Katie squarely in the center of the big
picture window in the living room. He stood there waving goodbye
beside her. He raised Little Katie's hand and made her wave as
well.

As soon as the
Shipleys' limousine disappeared up the street, Ronnie grabbed
Bianca by the arm. He propelled her over to the kitchen sink. He
poured her a glass of water.

"Remember that
medication I told you about?"

She nodded.
Truthfully, she'd forgotten — she'd been so busy the past
couple of days.

He held up the
plastic bottle and screwed off the lid. "Take one every morning as
soon as you wake up. The pills will calm your nerves and prevent you
from hearing voices."

"What's in it?"
She hesitated a little as he raised the pill to her mouth.

"A sedative, of
course."

She took the pill
obediently. Within a few minutes, she began to feel the effects of
the medication. It was so strong that her head whirled around. She
clutched the back of the kitchen chair for support.

She didn't feel
alarmed any more. It was as if she couldn't feel anything. Her
nerves felt dulled and groggy. It was hard to even remember where she
was.

Ronnie escorted
Bianca to the middle of the living room where Little Katie's toys
were strewn about.

"Play with Katie.
Keep her occupied," he ordered Bianca. "I've got a lot to do."
Before he left her, he took the credit card. "Someone in your state
can't be trusted with something as important as this."

She nodded dreamily.
"Yes, Ronnie."

Ronnie called upon
the servants — everyone from the cook, to the butler, to the
upstairs maid, to the gardener. He barked orders as if it were second
nature, and he was used to doing it every day of his life.

"Go to the florist.
Get flowers for Miss Bianca and Little Katie. Here's exactly what I
want." He handed the errand boy a note.

Bianca began to
wonder why the emphasis on flowers and floral arrangements. It seemed
strange. Her brain was so foggy that she could barely think. She
should be glad that Ronnie was here to make decisions for her. There
was probably some obvious reason why he wanted the flowers. She,
dimwit that she had become, had forgotten it. It would make her look
more stupid to ask.

He told the maid, "Go
up to the attic. Bring down all the suitcases that you can possibly
find."

"Why do we need so
many suitcases, Ronnie?" Bianca asked in confusion. "We're only
supposed to be in London for a few days. Or did I get that wrong,
too?"

"There are many
things that need to be brought for a short trip," Ronnie replied
with a note of impatience. "That's no concern of yours. Play with
the girl and leave the rest to me. Nobody in your condition could do
something as demanding or complicated as plan for this trip."

Bianca nodded. She
could hardly keep track of where Katie was on the floor. Once or
twice she lost her behind a chair. She smiled to think that Ronnie
would take care of everything.

Ronnie sent the
Shipleys' butler to the jewelry store. "Have the jeweler call me
if there are any questions," he instructed him as he gave him a
note.

What did Ronnie need
with a jewelry store? Bianca must be getting pretty dull-witted if
she couldn't figure any of this out. She just kept on smiling. She
was sure everything would turn out all right.

Bianca sat in the
middle of the floor playing with TR Bear, Lou and Little Katie. She
was interrupted by a flurry of papers that she had to sign. Most of
them seemed to be credit-card receipts. Ronnie thrust them in front
of her one after the other.

"Sign here."

He didn't give her
time to focus on what she was signing, not that her eyesight was that
clear. It was all one blur of pen marks. Her hand was so unsteady
that he had to hold her by the wrist so that she could write.

He continued to
direct her. "Not over there. Over here. See the line?"

"Couldn't you do
it for me, Ronnie?" She looked at him and blinked. He faded in and
out.

"Mrs. Shipley left
the credit card in your name only. I didn't have time to explain
how badly off you are, how she should leave it in my name instead."

Next Bianca had to
stand up because somebody had arrived to take her measurements.
Ronnie had to pull her up by the hand and steady her, or she might
have fallen over. She was none too sure of her footing since this
morning's pill.

"What do they need
my measurements for, Ronnie?" she asked, like one not quite awake.

"You need a
wardrobe for London. It wouldn't be necessary, but you haven't
paid much attention to your clothes since you inherited your money.
When I sent the maid over to your house to pack what was hanging in
your closet, there was not only nothing suitable there — there was
nothing there at all! Mrs. Shipley said you could buy whatever you
needed."

Bianca vaguely
remembered something happening to her suitcase some days ago. She
wrinkled her forehead and tried to recall what. Some guy with a car.
. . Somebody threatening her with a gun. . . Bianca shook her head at
the effort it took to remember his name or his face. She could not
recall him no matter how hard she tried.

People she had never
seen before were rushing in and out of the Shipleys' house. A pile
of boxes was getting higher in the foyer. She might be addle-brained.
But she was certain that they could not take all this stuff on the
plane to London. Could they? Mr. and Mrs. Shipley had left with only
one suitcase each and one carry-on bag in addition to Mrs. Shipley's
purse! Or had Bianca gotten that wrong, too?

Bianca thought,
Perhaps I just shouldn't try to think at all. Yes, that would be
better.

Br-r-r-r-r-r-ring!

Bianca gaped at the
phone. Ronnie seemed to be oblivious to the sound. He was standing
outside on the front porch directing the stream of traffic created by
men in uniform delivering boxes. He was talking on his cellphone at
the same time. He probably didn't hear the phone.

"Ronnie!" Bianca
called. He obviously didn't hear her either.

Should she answer it?
It rang persistently like somebody who wanted to get through. It
stopped and started right away. She had answered the Shipleys'
phone before when she'd been babysitting with Little Katie, hadn't
she? At least she thought she had.

Could it be the
Shipleys? They could be calling on their cellphones from the airport
to give her some last-minute instructions or to ask some question.
Maybe they wanted to talk to Little Katie. Yes, it was her duty to
answer, though she wished Ronnie would do it for her.

"H-hello?" She
picked up the receiver with an unsteady hand.

"Bianca!"

It sounded like a
familiar voice.

"Yes, this is
Bianca Winters," she replied in the monotone that had become her
voice today.

"Bianca, you don't
sound like yourself. You sound groggy, sleepy, like you're on
something."

She wrinkled her
forehead. She didn't know what the caller was talking about.

"Ex-excuse me, I
— I haven't been well lately," Bianca tried to explain
politely. "But I'll get Ronnie — I mean Byron Kingsley. He's
a doctor, you know. He's right over there on the front porch. He's
the one you want to talk to anyway, I'm sure."

Bianca was about to
put the receiver down when the voice protested. He shouted her ear
off.

"Bianca, don't
you dare hang up on me!"

Her hand stopped,
frozen in place. Lately she was beginning to learn to respond to
commands. She gaped at the receiver. The voice was becoming more
familiar to her fogged brain. She blinked.

"It's you I want
to talk to — not that creep who treats you like you were one of
those remote-control cars from Radio Shack, the kind I used to get
for Christmas. The kind where you push a button and make it go."

Bianca was more
confused than ever. She did not understand why the caller was talking
about remote-control cars from Radio Shack. Maybe he was trying to
sell something. That must be it. Those callers phoned at the most
inconvenient times.

"Sorry, we're
about ready to leave now for London. We don't want to buy anything
today." Bianca hung up.

Br-r-r-r-ring!

"H-hello?"

"Did that creep
make you hang up?"

"Cr-creep?"

"Yeah, alias Dr.
Byron Kingsley. The creep!"

Bianca looked towards
Ronnie. He was still standing outside on the front porch.

"You — you
shouldn't call Ronnie names. He's very smart and well educated.
He's an intern at the hospital. He's training to be a
psychiatrist, you know, and—"

"Bianca, don't
you remember me? You act as if you don't know my name."

She put her hand to
her head. "No, no, I'm sorry, I don't recall—"

"What's that
bastard got you on? It's Harry, Harry Fellini!"

"Harry Fellini. .
." She mouthed the words. That did sound familiar from somewhere.
It was on the tip of her tongue. "Oh yes, the bad one. The one who
went to jail."

"No, that's my
brother, Mike Fellini. Don't you remember, hon? I was supposed to
be your boyfriend until this Byron Kingsley character showed up."

Boyfriend? All she
could think to repeat aloud was, "Sorry, Ronnie wouldn't
approve."

"You sound like
he's got you drugged to the point you hardly know your own name.
That doesn't surprise me after what I've found out. Look, his
British passport's fake. I don't know who he is. He's not Byron
Kingsley. There is a Byron Kingsley in London all right. At least
there was. He died last Christmas. He was an eighty-five-year-old
dentist. And—"

Ronnie snatched the
phone from Bianca's hand. She smiled with gratefulness. He had
saved her from the strange caller.

"Fellini, how did
you get out of jail? I heard from Bianca's attorney that he
couldn't spring you on bail this time for any amount of money. Did
you escape like Mike?" Ronnie confronted the caller.

Bianca could hear the
caller on the other end of the line. It sounded as if he were
shouting at Ronnie.

"What kind of game
are you playing, Byron Kingsley, not that that's your real name!"

"You're babbling
nonsense. Perhaps you take it for some perverse game. Your family
seems to be fond of perverse games, doesn't it? Bianca and I are
very busy. Bother someone else." Ronnie looked disgusted and ready
to hang up.

"Talk about games,
what are you doing to Bianca?"

"Bianca is my
affair. She's not well. Nor is she the subject for public
discussion. My next call will be to the police, Fellini. Goodbye."

Ronnie scowled at
Bianca. "You're not to answer the phone again. I don't care how
many times it rings."

She clutched Little
Katie and nodded woodenly. She hated it when Ronnie was angry at her.

When the phone rang
again — as it did as soon as Ronnie was out of the room and back
out on the front porch — she just stared at it. If the Shipleys
later complained that they had called, she would have to say that
she'd been outside in the backyard with Little Katie, trying to
distract the little girl from scratching her rash.

Bianca didn't have
long to sit there and wonder what to do next. Ronnie was telling her
that it was time to go back to his apartment.

"Back to the
apartment?" she asked without any comprehension of where that was.
"But I can't —" She looked at Little Katie.

"There are some
things I need to do there, some loose ends I need to tie up if I'm
going to be away. Who knows exactly how long we'll be in London?
Nobody knows how many tests the doctor will run. Who knows how long
it will take Little Katie to get better? I may have to take a formal
leave from my job at the hospital."

"But Katie. . .
I—"

"We'll bring the
child with us to the apartment, of course."

Bianca didn't
really care where she went as long as Little Katie was with her.
Little Katie was not familiar with Ronnie's apartment and wailed.
It was all that Bianca could do to keep her quiet and entertained.

Ronnie was busy
making more phone calls and packing his briefcase the whole time. He
talked to the Shipleys after they arrived in London and told them
that Katie was as well as could be expected. Katie babbled on the
phone to them before she went to bed.

That night Bianca had
a strange dream that she couldn't decipher. She was racing down
long, darkened corridors. The blackness was pressing in on her,
making her feel panicked and forcing her to run faster. Finally at
the end of the last corridor there was a bright light. She raced
toward it. When she got to the end, she found that the bright light
was only empty sky. She was falling through it with clouds all around
her. Beneath her was the sea ready to swallow her up.

Chapter 8

She screamed and hit
the sea.

She opened her eyes.
She was lying on their mattress. The first rays of dawn were
filtering through the drapes, which Ronnie kept tightly shut. Katie
lay right next to their bed on her own mattress, sound asleep. She
was cuddling Mr. TR Bear and Lou. One of Lou's cinnamon ears was in
her mouth.

Bianca wanted to slip
her arms around Katie and carry her back to her bed. It would make
her feel more secure. But the little girl was so peaceful that Bianca
didn't want to disturb her. Lately she had been so miserable with
her unexplained skin rash.