The Unloved (24 page)

“No one says you did,” Kevin told him. “You might as well go home now, and come out tomorrow, or the next day. Everything will be fine—you’ll see.”

But Kerry didn’t go home. Instead, he moved farther down the beach to join his friends as they watched the medics wrap Mary-Beth Fletcher’s corpse in a sheet of plastic, then load it into the ambulance. Only when they were done with Mary-Beth did they finally turn their attention to Julie, giving her a shot to counteract the effects of her shock, then loading her onto a stretcher to carry her home. Finally, as the medics left the beach, with Marguerite following closely behind, Kerry found himself standing next to Jennifer Mayhew. “What happened to Mary-Beth?” he asked. “Does anybody know?”

Jennifer shook her head. “I heard Will Hempstead talking to the driver. He said he doesn’t think they’re going to be able to find out. He says …” Jennifer paused a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was steady, though her face was still pale. “He says she was in the water too long and there’s—there’s not enough left of her to tell what happened.”

“Shit,” Kerry said softly and shook his head. “Come on. We might as well get out of here.” But as he and Jennifer were walking toward his car, the sheriff stopped him.

“Kerry?” he said. “How come Bobby Hastings came all the way into town to call me? How come he didn’t just go up to the mansion?”

Kerry just stared at Hempstead. It was Jennifer Mayhew who finally answered his question. “He was scared,” she
said, her voice almost shy. “We were all scared, and Julie was crying, and Bobby didn’t know what to do.”

“And I was afraid of Miss Marguerite,” Kerry blurted, his eyes on the ground. “I was afraid she’d be mad at me and think it was all my fault. And I was right. Anyway, I told Bobby to go get you.”

Hempstead’s eyes narrowed. “You were afraid of Marguerite?” he echoed. “But that’s crazy. She likes all the kids. She always has.”

Now Kerry faced him. “The girls,” he said. “She likes the girls, Mr. Hempstead. But she doesn’t like me.”

He turned away and started once more toward his car. A moment later Jenny Mayhew followed him.

“I bet Aunt Marguerite killed her,” Jeff said. He and Toby Martin were back at their fort, guiltily consuming the warm Cokes and stale cookies that Jeff had swiped from the kitchen that morning. They’d heard the sirens and run down to the beach to see what was happening, then watched in fascination as the men from the ambulance pulled the body out of the waves. They’d tried to sneak up close to get a good look, but one of the ambulance men had shooed them away, and after that they’d just hung around, careful to stay out of the way but trying not to miss anything that had happened. Once, Jeff had tried to talk to his father, but his father, too, had brushed him off, saying he was busy and would talk to him later. And all Julie’s friends had simply ignored him, acting like he and Toby weren’t there at all. So after they’d taken Julie up to the mansion, and the ambulance had left, they’d come back to the fort behind the garage to try to figure out what had happened to Mary-Beth Fletcher.

Now Toby stared at Jeff, his eyes wide. “Miss Marguerite wouldn’t hurt anybody,” he said. “Why would she want to kill Mary-Beth?”

“Because she’s crazy,” Jeff replied, reaching into the brown paper bag to fish out another cookie. “I saw her this morning, and she was acting real weird. She was putting on
my grandmother’s clothes and combing her hair funny and everything.”

Toby frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe she was playing dress-up,” he said. “My sister does that all the time.”

Jeff made a scornful face. “Your sister’s only five. Aunt Marguerite’s a grown-up. Grown-ups don’t play dress-up. Unless they’re crazy. And did you see how she was acting with Julie?”

Toby’s frown deepened. “She was just trying to take care of her. Julie was crying, wasn’t she?”

Jeff’s eyes rolled as if Toby were some kind of an idiot. “She was acting just like she was our mother,” he said. “And she was doing that to me today too. She was trying to tell me what to do and everything!”

“So what did you do?” Toby asked.

Jeff shrugged as if what had happened with his aunt after lunch were nothing. “I told her she wasn’t my mother and that she couldn’t tell me what to do.”

“Wow,” Toby breathed, his eyes wide at his friend’s nerve, “What did she do?”

“Nothing,” Jeff announced, though he didn’t add that he hadn’t stayed around to find out, but had instead fled from the kitchen before either his aunt or Ruby could catch him. “Anyway, I think she’s crazy, and I bet she killed Mary-Beth Fletcher.”

Toby looked at Jeff uncertainly. He liked Jeff a lot—in fact, ever since Jeff had come to Devereaux, they’d been best friends. But he’d known Miss Marguerite as long as he could remember, and she’d never seemed crazy to him. Whenever he or any of the other kids ran into her in the village, she always bought them a Coke or some candy or something, and then sat and talked to them just like they were grown-ups. His mom always said Miss Marguerite must be lonely out there in that big old house, and Toby always felt sorry for her. “How come she’d want to kill Mary-Beth?” he asked at last.

“How should I know?” Jeff replied, exasperated. “Nobody knows why crazy people do things. That’s why they’re crazy.”

“Then I guess you two are about as crazy as anybody I
know,” Ruby said from outside the fort, and the two boys froze, their faces taking on guilty looks as their eyes searched for a place to hide the stolen cookies and Cokes. “Anybody who’d sit in there in heat like this got to have a few screws loose.” Her face appeared in the tiny crawl hole, regarding them suspiciously. “So that’s where my cookies and Cokes went,” she said. “I got cold ones in the kitchen, and if the two of you can sit still for half an hour, I just might make some fresh cookies. Those should’ve been fed to the birds two days ago. Now come on out of there, both of you.”

She withdrew her head from the crawl hole, and Jeff and Toby crept out, still not sure whether Jeff’s thievery was going to be punished or not. But Ruby only took each of them by a hand and began walking them up the hill toward the back door.

Fifteen minutes later, as Ruby slid the first sheet of chocolate chip cookies into the oven, the door to the dining room opened and Marguerite stepped into the kitchen.

“I thought I asked you to make some iced tea for—” she began, but stopped short when she saw what Ruby was doing. “Cookies?” she asked, her voice taking on a querulous edge. “For Heaven’s sake, Ruby, Julie can’t have cookies! She needs something cold! I asked you to make iced tea for her!”

“It’s in the fridge,” Ruby said placidly, nodding toward the huge refrigerator. “Seems to me she won’t want it till she wakes up anyway, and I got a couple hungry boys here that don’t look sleepy at all.”

For the first time Marguerite noticed Jeff and Toby sitting at the kitchen table, and as she looked at them, Jeff was certain he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. But then her expression cleared and she smiled at them. “Well, we certainly don’t want them starving right here in our kitchen, do we?” she said. She leaned down to kiss Jeff on the cheek, but he shrank away. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked.

“N-No,” Jeff stammered, embarrassed in front of his friend, and trying not to let his sudden fear show in his voice but failing.

“Well, I wish you wouldn’t be,” Marguerite said, reaching
out to stroke Jeff’s hair. “I know I shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did earlier, but I guess I just wasn’t feeling quite myself.”

Jeff shifted uneasily in his chair and tried to duck his head away from his aunt’s touch. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. Then: “Is Julie still crying?”

Marguerite shook her head. “She’s asleep now, and you and Toby must be very quiet. You don’t want to wake her up, do you?”

Jeff glanced toward Toby. “We’re not making any noise. And anyway, when Julie’s asleep, nobody can wake her up. It’s like she was dead or something.”

Marguerite’s face paled and the muscles around her mouth tightened. “What a terrible thing to say! You mustn’t even think such a thing. And after what’s happened—”

“Oh, now, he didn’t mean anything by it,” Ruby interrupted, her voice smooth. She gently slipped between Marguerite and Jeff to place the bowl with the remains of the cookie batter in front of the two boys. “Now, you go on back upstairs, and soon as Julie wakes up, you just push the buzzer and I’ll bring up some iced tea and maybe a cookie or two.”

For a moment Marguerite looked as if she was about to object, but then seemed to change her mind. Then she was gone, leaving the boys alone with Ruby once more. Silently Ruby went back to her work, but Jeff looked at Toby with knowing eyes.

“See?” he whispered. “First she acts all sweet, then she’s mad. She’s nuts!”

Ruby turned to face Jeff, her eyes smoldering. “I didn’t say nothin’ before ‘cause I don’t believe in listening in on other folks’s private conversations. But don’t you start calling Miss Marguerite crazy, you hear me? I just don’t want to hear that!”

Jeff, his eyes round, blushed a deep red, then quickly bobbed his head. A moment later Ruby went back to her work as if nothing had happened.

*      *      *

Jeff hadn’t been able to sleep at all. It seemed that ever since he’d gone to bed, the house had been filled with strange sounds, sounds he hadn’t heard before. There was a slight wind blowing, and he tried to convince himself that what he was hearing wasn’t anything more than the trees brushing against the house, but he knew he didn’t believe it, because all the sounds hadn’t come from outside.

Some of them had come from inside the house itself, and he was certain he knew what they were.

It was his aunt, moving around the house, stopping outside his door to listen, then moving on.

He’d been sure of it, listening to the strange, uneven footsteps that had been indistinct at first, then clearer. He could picture her, moving along the hall, leaning against one of the walls, stopping in front of each door, listening.

What did she want?

Once, when he heard her stop outside his room for what seemed like an eternity, he pulled the sheet up over his head, afraid that she was going to come inside. But then, finally, she’d gone away again, and after a while he’d tried once more to go to sleep. But he could still hear her, moving up and down the hall, and every now and then he was sure he could hear doors opening and closing.

Now the night seemed to be filled with sounds, and he could no longer distinguish one from another. But all of them seemed impossibly loud, and finally he put his hands over his ears, trying to shut them out.

They were still there.

No, they weren’t there at all. He was only imagining them, like the time he woke up from a nightmare but the dream seemed like it was still there, and all the monsters that had surrounded him while he slept were still coming at him, reaching out for him, even though he was awake.

Now he could even hear his own heart pounding, but that seemed to drown out the rest of the noises, and he began to be afraid that if he couldn’t hear them, whatever was making the noises might be able to sneak up on him.

The door.

Had he locked the door?

He crept out of bed and moved silently across the floor, then turned the key in the lock. He froze as the bolt slid home, but suddenly the sounds seemed to have stopped. Beyond his door the house was quiet now.

He started back toward his bed, but then a flicker of movement caught his eye.

He knew what it was even before he went to the window to peer out into the darkness of the night.

His grandmother’s ghost, come back once more.

Unconsciously holding his breath, he crept close to the window.

There was only a faint glimmer of moonlight, but even in the near total darkness he could see the shimmering white figure in the cemetery.

What should he do?

And then he knew.

Ruby.

If he could get downstairs, get to Ruby, she would know what to do. Last time she had believed him when he’d told her what he saw, and tonight she would believe him too.

His sister wouldn’t, and his father wouldn’t.

Only Ruby.

He went back to the door and listened carefully. From the hall outside there was only silence. His fingers trembling, he twisted the key in the lock, then listened again.

More silence.

He pulled the key out of the lock, then bent over and pressed his eye against the tiny hole.

A faint glow showed, and he knew that a nightlight had been left on, so at least he wouldn’t have to make his way through the darkness.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, slipped out of his room, looked both ways, then ran for the staircase. Before he even had time to think about what he was doing, he was downstairs, through the living room and dining room, pushing his way into the kitchen and Ruby’s room beyond.

He tapped softly at her door, and a few seconds later, tapped louder. At last he heard her voice. “Who’s out there? What’s wrong?”

“It’s me,” he whispered. “Jeff. Can I come in?”

He could hear the rustling of a sheet inside, then shuffling steps before the door finally opened and Ruby peered out at him, her eyes sleepy. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked. “What are you doing down here?”

“It—It’s Grandmother,” Jeff whispered, his eyes wide and his voice quavering. “She’s in the graveyard again.”

Ruby blinked, then nodded and came out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her. “Well, let’s you and me have a look,” she said, and took Jeff by the hand. She led him back through the kitchen, and when they were in the dining room, went to the French doors and pulled one of the curtains aside. Together they looked out into the darkness.

The strange white figure was still there, moving slowly toward the crypt, its arms outstretched.

“Wh-What’s she want?” Jeff asked, his voice barely audible.

“The child,” Ruby replied, letting the curtain fall back in place. “They found Mary-Beth Fletcher today, and she’s come for her soul.” She pulled Jeff away from the window and started back toward the stairs. “Now let’s get you back in bed where you belong. She won’t hurt you—it’s not you she’s after. So we’ll just get you back in bed, and don’t you pay her any mind at all. All right?”