April Fools (13 page)

Belinda saw the barbed wire fence . . . the ditch beyond --

She clamped her eyes shut and braced herself.

The car jolted to a stop.

For an eternity Belinda sat there, pinned by deep, empty silence, paralyzed with stark, icy terror. Then finally she felt herself breathe again . . . felt her eyes move slowly to Noel.

At first she thought he was dead.

He was slumped against his door, and he wasn't moving.

"Noel -- oh, my God --^" Her hands fumbled with her seat belt, and she saw him raise his head. Blood ran in a thin trickle over one eye. "Oh, Noel, you're hurt!"

"I'm all right." His voice was shaky... and very cold. "What about you?"

"I'm fine--"

"Sure? You can move everything?"

"Yes -- yes! Let's hurry and get out of here --"

"The maniac already passed me. Damn ... I don't believe this . . . my car --"

"I think it was Adam," Belinda said.

"Adam?" Noel stared at her, his mouth open, as if he didn't know whether to laugh or get her a doctor. "Adam?" he repeated numbly. "Adam can't drive a car . . . Adam can't even walk! How the hell could it have been Adam?"

"I don't know. But I think it was."

Noel pulled back from her, stiffly, against his door. "Belinda, what is with you?" Anger flooded his voice now, his eyes, every feature -- even through the pale shock of his face she could see it. "What is this thing with Adam, anyway? It's like you're . . . you're obsessed with him or something! I'm sorry I even told you anything about him -- you're seeing him in every shadow!"

"No -- you don't understand --"

"No. I don't understand."

Belinda tried to shut out the hurt in his voice. "Noel -- I can't explain it now, but I think he's after me -- I don't know how, but --"

Noel was shaking his head, mouthing "no" over and over again, but as Belinda's panic grew, he suddenly reached out and caught her shoulders. "Okay, BeUnda, okay. Whatever this is about, I think you'd better tell me."

Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded. "Yes."

He searched her face, his own sad and bewildered. "You shouldn't be alone at your house tonight."

"No," she whispered.

After several moments he released her and tried the key. Behnda saw his hands were shaking. The

car made a grinding noise, but finally backed up onto the road.

"We^U call your mother from my place," Noel said tiredly. "I'll tell her you got sick and Cobbs put you to bed."

Belinda stared out at the road, her voice tight. "But I don't want to go there. Adam will be there."

"Behnda" -- Noel glanced over, his hand reaching again for her shoulder -- "Adam's not even home right now. ..."

And as Belinda stared at him in slow disbelief, he added softly, "It's Cobbs's night off. He and Adam went out somewhere together."

They didn't talk on the way home.

Behnda sank into a mild stupor, wondering how the perfect day had gone so wrong, and beside her Noel clung to the wheel, his eyes going frequently to the rearview mirror. There were no more mishaps, and when Sasha greeted them joyously at the door, they hugged her between themselves, as if she were some solid link of sanity. Noel called the hospital, explaining to Belinda's mother that she'd gotten ill and Cobbs had insisted on keeping her, and Mrs. Swanson thanked them both for their caring. As Noel hung up the phone, he regarded Belinda with obvious concern, and suggested they call it a night.

"I wasn't lying to your mother, you know -- you really do look sick."

"You don't look too good yourself."

"Oh, don't worry about me." He brushed her off. "But are you okay? Really?"

She avoided his eyes. "Do you . . . still want to talk?"

"I think we should. If you're up to it."

"Are you sure Adam isn't here?"

Noel reached for the coffeemaker, then hesitated, casting a glance at her over his shoulder. "He's not here. I told you, he's with Cobbs. I think they were going to the movies."

"Adam couldn't have -- you know -- changed his mind?"

"Would it make you feel better if I went to the theater and saw him for myself?"

Belinda flushed. She felt so stupid ... so angry with herself, yet she couldn't help it. "Could you just. . . check the house?"

Noel smiled then. He set the coffee down and guided her out of the kitchen. "I'll do better than that. I'll personally show you to your room, and you can lock your door, and then I'll check the house."

He led her down another upstairs hallway to a cozy room at the back of the house. While Belinda looked around, he excused himself for a minute, and by the time she had found a bathroom and some towels, he had reappeared, carrying a white, silky nightgown.

"Mom's," he apologized. "It'll probably be too long . . . but I'm sure it'll look better on you than it does on her."

BeUnda tried to imagine Mrs. Thorne in one of her own flannel nightgowns but c6uldn't quite conjure up the image. She sat down on the edge of the four-poster bed as Noel drew the curtains and showed her empty hangers in the closet.

"And if you need anything at all, just yell."

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"I will," Belinda said nervously. "Is your room close by?"

"Two doors down. And Cobbs is off the kitchen, but if you need a snack or anything just pound on his door."

"I won't need anything," Belinda said softly.

"Belinda--" Noel took a step toward her, his face worried. "Look, I know you're tired, but -- "

"Could we talk tomorrow?" she turned away. "I know I said I'd tell you but ..."

Noel seemed to be having a mental struggle. At last he said, "Okay, I'll see you in the morning," and she heard the door close quietly behind him.

Belinda lay back with a sigh, so overwhelmed with fears and questions, she couldn't even think. It took all her effort to get ready for bed. She slipped the sheer nightgown over her head, the white silk smooth and cool against her skin. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, somewhat amazed at the transformation. Her brown hair fell gently over the tiny straps at her shoulders, and the low-cut front was trimmed in soft lace, hugging the curves of her body. Mrs. Thome must have paid a small fortune for this nightgown, and Belinda guessed the woman wouldn't be a bit happy to know it had been loaned out. Still ... it made her feel almost pretty, and Belinda looked at her reflection, smiling sadly at the stranger who smiled back.

She didn't hear the door open behind her.

She didn't see the tall shadow slip into the room until his reflection appeared in the mirror with hers.

"Noel!" Whirling around, Belinda crossed her

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arms over her chest, her cheeks flaming hot as Noel took a startled step back.

"Hey -- sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I knocked ... you forgot to lock your door. ..." His voice trailed away as his eyes moved over her slowly, from her soft hair to her bare feet.

"I didn't hear you," Belinda murmured. She stood there, helplessly, so conscious of his eyes ... so conscious of his nearness and the smile upon his face.

"Belinda. ..." His lips moved gently, down her neck ... his arms went around her, turning her to him, and as her body pressed against his, she could feel his heartbeat, as rapid as her own. She opened her eyes and he was looking down at her, brushing her hair back with his fingers.

"It suits you," he teased, and she blushed even more. "I think you should keep it -- Mom'll never miss it."

Belinda tried to pull back, and his eyes lowered to the lace at her breasts. She pressed close to him again, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"I. . . think I'd better go," Noel said at last, but as he released her, tears suddenly filled her eyes.

"Please don't leave," she said softly.

"Belinda, what is it? Are you crying?" And then as her body shook with sobs, he held her tightly. "What is it? Belinda . . . please tell me."

"I'm . . . I'm ... so scared."

"Don't be -- I'm here. Nothing's going to hurt you -- please, Belinda -- please tell me what's wrong --"

And she told him.

As he lowered her gently to the edge of the bed and they sat there in each other's arms, she sobbed out the whole horrible story -- from the April Fools' Day party to Frank's joke -- all the details of the wreck. She told him about the call to the police, about the calendar, the doll's head, the voice at her window. She told him everything -- the whole series of nightmarish events that her life had become, and through it all Noel held her, rocked her, kept her safe. When she had finally exhausted herself, he went into the bathroom for tissues and began pacing while she blew her nose.

"But you really think Adam has something to do with all this?" he said at last, more than a little incredulous. "Even though he can't walk -- even though the chances of that being the same accident are so -- "

"Oh, Noel, I'm not sure of anything, but what other explanation is there?" Her voice rose desperately. "All those things I told you he said -- he's been playing cat and mouse with me ever since I got here! But how could he know -- how?"

"Could whoever it was have been lying somewhere nearby when you ran down the hill . . . didn't you say Hildy and Frank were yelling your name?"

"Yes ... I suppose he could have heard them. And Hildy said some guy asked about me in the library -- I don't know if it has any connection to this or not -- but how did he find me? I'm so scared^ Noel -- I think he's trying to kill me!"

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Noel held up his hands, palms outward. "Whoa . . . now we're getting into serious business --"

"It is serious business."

"And you haven't told anyone?"

"I can't. None of us were supposed to be out that night -- Frank was drunk -- and Hildy was driving! I can't do that to them -- "

"Wait a minute." Noel shook his head slowly . . . walked to the window . . . walked back again. "What if it's something else?"

Belinda wiped her bleary eyes and sniffled. "What if whafs something else?"

"The man." Noel cocked his head at her. "The man you said you saw on the hill --"

"The one they think I imagined --"

"Yes, but what if you didn't imagine him?" Noel's tone was tense; he knelt beside her, staring into her eyes. "Could that have been Adam?"

Belinda stared back at him, from beyond a throbbing headache.

"Suppose -- just suppose Adam was up there watching you -- hearing them call your name --"

"But -- but Adam was in the wreck --"

"Adam says he was in the wreck." Noel frowned, his hand reaching for hers. "But what if he wasn't? What if he jumped out -- or was thrown clear -- and that's how he hurt himself?" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "Listen to me. I can't believe I'm standing here thinking all this stuff. I mean, why would he be so interested in you anyway, Belinda? Even if it was Adam, what possible reason could he have for wanting to hurt you?"

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"Because I saw him." And suddenly it was so clear that her head spun with the impact of it all. "If Adam was up there, and the car was down there -- with his father and stepmother inside -- oh, God --"

Noel's glance was sharp. "I don't think I want to hear this, Belinda -- stop --"

But in her mind, Belinda wasn't in the room anymore. She was down in the kitchen and it was the day before . . . and she was hstening to Adam's conversation with a hospital nurse ". . . he hasn't said anything . . , he really is going to die. ..."

"He tried to kill them, Noel! He tried to murder his own father -- and your mother! But how -- in the car -- is that possible^"

Noel drew back, as if the very thought repelled him. But then, as Behnda continued to stare at him, he reluctantly shook his head. "It's not that hard to jump out of a car, I suppose -- if you know what you're doing -- but -- still --"

"Why?" Belinda was almost begging now, trying to understand, horrified at the possibility. "Why would he try to kill them?"

"It's no secret there's no love lost between them," Noel said seriously, "but -- damn it, Belinda -- I just can't believe that Adam --"

Belinda gripped his hand so tight that he winced. "Noel, the handkerchief!"

^What handkerchief?"

"I forget to tell you -- I found a handkerchief up there on the ground that night -- it has an A in the corner --"

Noel looked strained. And scared. "You ... actually have it?"

"Yes! If what we're thinking is true, if Adam dropped it up there that night -- oh, God, he knows I have it --"

"How could he know?"

Belinda was babbhng, tears filling up again in her eyes. "That day in his room -- it fell out of my pocket -- he asked me what it was."

"Do you have it now?"

"No . . . no." She shook her head miserably. "It's at home in my other jacket -- but -- I know he recognized it -- he had to -- "

"Maybe not." Noel tried to soothe her. "Maybe he didn't. And maybe we're jumping to way too many conclusions here --"

Noel's head snapped up, his body going stiff.

As Belinda looked on in dread, he put a finger to his lips and pried her hand from his arm.

He pointed to the door.

Trembling, Belinda nodded. She had heard it, too.

The sound in the hallway.

Slipping noiselessly across the room, Noel put his ear to the door. His hand curled around the doorknob ... his body tensed. . . .

As the door whipped open, Belinda prepared herself for the sight of Adam and his black, accusing eyes.

Instead there was only black, empty hallway.

And the faraway sound of a door closing.

"Do you think it was him?" Belinda shuddered. "Do you think he was hstening?"

"It could have been Cobbs. I heard the car pull in earlier." Noel eased the door back into place, his voice grim. "He has the most irritating habit of slipping around without making any noise when he wants to."

"But it could have been Adam --"

"I hope to God it wasn't. For both our sakes."

He turned back the covers and helped her into bed, tucking the blanket snugly around her chin. "Now, look. I'll push the lock on my way out. And you get some sleep."