The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.) (103 page)

His tone returned to it’s usual brusqueness as he snapped, ‘you arrived here last night looking like you’d lived in the swamp for months and passed out right at my feet. So don’t look at me as though I’m the bad guy here, lady.’

She looked shocked and her mouth gaped open. He watched her face as the memories started to come back to her and as they did she looked quickly towards the window as if expecting to see her pur
suer standing there. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ he said more gently, no one will get in here.’

She looked back at him then once more her eyes went to the rifl
e then back at him. ‘What,’ she coughed, ‘happened?’

He scowled and said abruptly, ‘I was hoping you could tell me that. But first we’ll have something to eat.’ He nodded at the bedside table there’s water and some painkillers there, you’ll probably need both.’ He turned to leave the room then turned back, ‘the bathrooms through there,’ he nodded his head towards the communicating door, ‘but as much as you might be tempted, don’t try to take a shower, you’re not strong enough yet. And leave the door open in case you feel unwell, I don’t want to have to break it down.’

She didn’t answer and he stared at her for a moment before picking up his rifle and exiting the room leaving the door open, after a few seconds of looking at her his head on one side, Dante followed him.

Adela sat where she was for a few minutes staring at the open door asking herself what had happened. How had she got here? And
why
here? She remembered of course everything that had happened with Sterling Hennessey and how she had escaped and being in the swamp, after that everything was a jumble of disjointed images and fragmented memories.

When she had woken she had been disoriented and the first thing she had seen was the dog staring at her. Her first thought had been that she was back in the woods and he was a scavenger come to feed on her carcass and she had cried out, but then the dog had give
n a little whimper and ran away obviously more frightened than she was, if that was possible. At first she had thought that Hennessey had recaptured her and brought her here but then realised that was nonsense, if he had she would have been tied up, and anyway Hennessey didn’t have a dog. She vaguely recalled Hennessey saying “Hammer” but in fact must have said Alabama.

She had tried to rise but her head swam and she fell back down, her whole body ached as though she had been exercising for day’s non stop, but her arm was the worst, she had looked at it and saw that it was bandaged Then she had looked down at the bed and slowly lifted the cover and found that she was wearing something she knew she did not own, a man’s shirt. She had pulled back the blanket and looked at her feet, she was wearing a pair of man’s socks and like the shirt they were at least four sizes too big for her. She lowered one sock and looked at her feet, they had been cleaned and bandaged, in fact she could smell antiseptic very strongly in the room.

Then
he
had come into the room carrying a rifle and scared her half to death. But he had spoken quite gently to her, at first anyway, but she noticed the moment the mask had come down over his features and had seen he was annoyed by her reaction. But strangely enough it was the annoyance in his face and the harshness in his voice that had penetrated her confused and frightened mind more than any amount of soothing words could have done. Anyway, if he had meant her harm he would have done it before now.

But she could not remember falling at his feet; she could not even recall getting here in the first place.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and a wave of dizziness swept over her again. She gave a small moan which she tried to suppress; she didn’t want Jonas Lando to come back in here. That made her think again about where she was, in
his
cabin, in
his
bedroom, in
his
bed. The thought frightened yet intrigued her.

She looked at the bottle of water on the bedside table and drank some greedily then picked up the pills he had mentioned. Maybe she shouldn’t take them; maybe they were some kind of tranquilliser, the date rape drug perhaps. But why would he want to put her out like that? He could just knock her out or overpower her; anyway, he could have taken advantage of her whilst she was unconscious. She picked up the pills and swallowed them with the water. As she put the bottle back on the table she saw her hairclips, she picked them up then took a deep breath and very tentatively put her feet to the floor trying to ride out the dizziness. After a few moments it passed and she rose to her feet, the shirt dropped down almost to her knees, well if it was his it would be huge on her he being so much taller than she was. She very slowly, not to say very painfully, made her way to the bathroom. Once there she looked around and was surprised at how neat and clean it was as was the bedroom, it was such a contrast from the outside and also from the owner himself. She used the toilet hoping and praying she would not get dizzy again and pass out, that would just about use up her humiliation quota for the rest of her life.

As she washed her hands and wrists and forearms she noticed the cuts and grazes that almost covered the skin.

She saw a small mirror above the sink and although she didn’t want to she could not resist looking into it. She closed her eyes then opened them quickly and what she saw made her gasp and step back in shock.. Her face had so many cuts she couldn’t even begin to count.  Her hair was filthy and covered in something green and slimey, it had had been tied back, he must have done that, but long tendrils escaped from
its binding and hung down her face.

Well, as awful as she looked now at least she was alive. As Lando had foreseen she was very tempted by the shower, she recalled what he had said about looking like she had lived in the swamp for months, but she also remembered what he had said about her not being strong enough yet, he was right.

But she couldn’t resist washing her face and neck and chest and felt the stinging of her skin was a small price to pay to feel somewhat refreshed.

She was just pinning up her hair as best she could with the few clips she had left and the ache in her arm, when she almost jumped out of her skin as a knock came on the door. She stared at it as though she had never seen one before but heaved a sigh of relief as Lando’s voice came to her. ‘Miss? Are you okay in there?’

Her heart still beating very fast she swallowed nervously and stammered, ‘y…yes, yes thank you, Mr. Lando.’

There was a short silence before he spoke again, ‘here’s something clean for you to wear.’ His hand suddenly appeared in the open doorway holding a plaid shirt, much the same as they one she wore now and that he himself had worn every time she had ever encountered him, including today, maybe he bought them in bulk. Then she was ashamed of herself for thinking this. She had heard that he had no money, that this house was all he had in the world, the house and the outbuildings; she had no right to make fun of him.

She hadn’t realised she had not taken the shirt from him until he said impatiently, ‘much as I like standing in doorways, lady, I do have other things to do.’

Her haste caused her to almost snatch it from him, ‘thank you, Mr. Lando.’

Again that short silence until he said, ‘there’s food when you’re ready.’ He said this as though she had been in here for hours instead of mere minutes.

She said
quickly, ‘I’ll just…just change, I won’t be long.’

He said nothing further and she wondered if he’d gone, she cautiously peeped through the gap between the door and the frame but he was not there. He was very quick and very quiet, but then she supposed living here and hunting as he did he had to be.

She unfastened the shirt she was wearing and this revealed more cuts and abrasions on her torso and thighs. As she removed the shirt completely she shook her head at the sight, what a mess she looked, how she must have looked to Jonas Lando when he…she stopped.

She had been so consumed with thoughts of what had happened to her and the fear she had felt, that it had only just occurred to her that to put her in this shirt he must have removed her clothes. The thought of that caused a heat to spread over her entire body and she felt dizzy again.

She sat down abruptly on the side of the old tin bath that stood against the wall. Oh God, the thought of that man, that taciturn, surly man seeing her semi naked, it was too much, really it was. The heat suffusing her body became a furnace as she realised that not only had he removed her clothes but touched her body when he had bathed and cleansed her wounds. What if he had…oh God, what if he had done other things, touched her most intimate parts, maybe even raped her, after all he had killed his wife so what was a little rape to him.

Oh now she was being paranoid, of course he hadn’t raped her, but he could have touched her intimately, would she know? Would it feel anything like when Hennessey had touched her that way? But surely she would know wouldn’t she? She put her face in her hands and moaned. The thought sickened her, not so much that Lando may have touched her but that Hennessey had.

She stood up impatient with herself, what was she thinking? Jonas Lando had saved her, brought her into his cabin, put her in his bed and tended to her wounds. And he had been angry when she had looked at him with fear and suspicion earlier. And maybe he had not killed his wife, how many times had Hennessey lied to her? Too many times to count, and here she was doing what she hated in others, listening to rumour and gossip.

But could she trust Lando, she had been lied to and deceived so many times and so convincingly that she knew that from now on she would find it hard to trust anyone ever again. No, she would never be sucked in again, never be deceived again. Before all she knew Jonas Lando might be in on the plot with Hennessey, after all how had she got here, why had Hennessey brought her here to
Alabama? She reached into her memory and brought out something Hennessey had yelled as he was searching for her, she thought he had said "hammer" but he must have said "Alabama." He had told her where she was but she had not heard correctly. Why had he done that?

Then she recalled what Lando had said about having to talk, he would expect her to tell him what had happened to her. But she would be very careful what she said, especially about the five million dollars that Hennessey had been offered by Glissando to kill her. That amount of money would tempt even the very best of people, and especially someone who was obviously in dire straits financially as Lando obviously was.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, at the cuts and bruises on her face and neck. Yes, she would be wise to be suspicious of everyone.

                                                           ********

In the kitchen Lando was making something to eat and thinking about the woman and her reaction when she had seen him at the doorway of the bedroom. She had looked at him as though he was Satan himself and that had made him angry. The last time a woman had looked at him like that, with shock and fear, had been just before she died.

God, what was he doing, it was that English woman’s fault, she had brought back memories, memories he tried every minute of the day to suppress, and more often than not he succeeded by keeping busy, giving himself no time to dwell or even to think. Maybe he should have asked her if she’d have preferred he left her lying in the barn, or if she would rather he throw her back in the swamp.

But after he had calmed down he realised how unreasonable he was being. She had just woken up from a fever in a strange place almost naked except for a man’s shirt, so obviously she would be frightened, terrified even, especially after what she must have suffered at the hands of whoever had kidnapped her, not to mention what she had endured in the swamp. And she had probably just realised that he had taken off her clothes and tended to her wounds, touched her body, she must have been feeling very confused and embarrassed. It was a wonder she hadn’t screamed the place down when she realised she was face to face with a convicted murderer. He admired her restraint. He also felt ashamed  that he had not offered to carry her to the bathroom, she must have had a lot of difficulty getting there on those cut feet, but he had not wanted to touch her again, the last time he had carried her she had been unconscious so that was different, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t her fault she was a woman and he shouldn’t have been so abrupt with her in the bathroom, but he wasn’t used to company, at least not since he had been released from prison. Of course there had been
too
much company in there. He was out of practise with how to communicate with people, especially women, not that he had ever been any good at that.

He looked down at Dante
, ‘you’re better off as you are, Dante, single and free, we both are.’ He refused to admit that sometimes single and free could also mean alone and lonely.

He didn’t turn as he caught a movement from the bedroom doorway, but caught a glimpse of her head peeping round the door. His recent thoughts made his tone sound even more brusque than usual, ‘he doesn’t bite,’ he nodded down at Dante then turned his head to look at her, ‘although I can’t say the same for myself.’

From anyone else Adela would have thought that last comment a joke but Lando did not seem the type to make jokes especially with her who he particularly seemed to dislike. She wondered afresh why he had brought her here into his cabin, a place he considered strictly off limits; after all, he had roughly thrown her out of one of his outbuildings.