Breaking the Chain (27 page)

"Yeah, why?"
             
She pointed to the mud on the carpet. "They couldn't have come in from the driveway. Look at the clumps of dirt by your feet. Dykes' scraped it off the bottom of his shoes when he came in. I remember, because it ticked me off that he was doing it in the drawing room, instead of out in the garden. Take a good look at it, Jack. That's mud--river mud. He couldn't have gotten it from the driveway, because we just had six loads of gravel dumped on the drive last month, remember? There isn't any mud mixed in with it. Besides, even if there had been, the rocks and gravel would have cleaned the mud off the bottom of his shoes. There wouldn't have been enough left to scrape off."
             
She grabbed Jack's arm. "He's lying, Jack. The only place Dykes could have gotten that on his shoes is behind the workshop or along the river. I know, because I was the one who had to scrape it off of our shoes the last time we worked in the yard back there."
             
"Why would he lie?"
             
"Not only that, why was he out there, and why didn't he want us to talk to Sal?"
             
Jack shook his head. "I don't know, babe. Maybe he didn't want us to know what they were doing."
             
"Yeah? Well, guess what? I want to know what they were doing. If Dykes had to lie about it, you can be damn sure it wasn't something we'd approve of. What are we going to do?"
             
Jack walked over to the French doors and locked the dead bolt. "Nothing. We're going to bed. What do you want me to do, go up to Dykes' room and interrogate the man? We don't have any legitimate complaint, other than the fact he lied about where they walked. I'd look pretty foolish demanding that he confess to doing something underhanded when that's all I have to go on."
             
"Damn. I hate it when you're right," she agreed. "Maybe one of us ought to stay up and keep an eye on him."
             
Jack wrapped his hand around her arm and led her out of the drawing room. "No, Mary. You and I are going to bed. We're not going to go around listening at keyholes all night, in the hopes of catching somebody doing something. This is the United States, not Gestapo land. We're going to act like adults and give our guests their privacy. Understood?"
             
She shrugged out of his grasp. "All right, all right. I'm going. I'll meet you upstairs."
             
"Fine. Make sure you don't listen in at any keyholes on your way up."
             
Sticking her tongue out at him, she carried the tray of glasses back to the kitchen. Setting the tray on the table, she opened the curtains and peered out for a few minutes. Everything was quiet; there wasn't even a single deer in the garden. Sighing softly, she closed the curtain, made her way back upstairs, and climbed into bed. Jack might be able to prevent her from sitting up all night, but there was nothing he could do to make her fall asleep.

             
           
             
             
                       
46

             
             
The sound of floorboards creaking woke Mary from a light doze. Instantly alert, she glanced over toward Jack, who lay snoring beside her. Had he heard anything? Obviously not, if his continuous snoring was anything to go by. She lay quietly, listening for sounds, and was disappointed when the house remained quiet. Had her imagination been playing tricks on her once again?
             
Pulling the covers around her chin, she started to count sheep, but by the time she reached two hundred, she gave it up as a lost cause. She was too keyed up. Maybe a glass of warm milk would help.
             
Taking care not to wake Jack, she slid out from under the covers and eased off the bed. Her robe lay across the back of a chair and she padded over to the window to get it. As she stuffed her arms into the sleeves, flickering lights in the distance caught her attention. What in the world? She eased closer to the window for a better look, grateful that, for once, she hadn't turned on the light. She waited patiently in the darkness, and was just about to walk away when the light flickered once more, this time closer to the workshop. Two figures moved through the darkness toward the workshop, their silhouettes briefly outlined by the flash of lights.
             
Damn. That could only mean one thing. Those high school kids must be back again, doing God knows what in the tunnel. Well, this time those kids weren't going to get away with breaking and entering. This time she and Jack would catch them in the act and make them explain to their parents what they were doing in the tunnel. Maybe that would teach them a lesson about respect for other people's property. She hated to wake up Jack, but if she didn't, one of the kids might get hurt, and then they'd have a lawsuit on their hands. God, what a pain this place was turning out to be. If it wasn't guests getting themselves lost, it was kids trespassing in the tunnel. What was next?
             
"Jack, wake up. Those kids are back in the tunnel," she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, baby. You need to go out there before somebody gets hurt."
             
"What? What do you mean, somebody's in the tunnel?" Jack asked, rubbing his face with his hands. "Are you sure?"
             
Mary moved back to the window and waved him over. "Look for yourself. They're sneaking in and out of the workshop. I thought I counted two, but there could be more."
             
Yawning, Jack crept up behind her. "All right. Where are they?"
             
"Watch. Every few minutes a light flickers on and off. Gives away their location. Two kids went into the tunnel a little while ago, and I haven't seen them come out."
             
Jack peered out into the darkness. "I don't see anything."
             
"Be patient, Jack. You'll see what I mean in a few minutes." The words had no sooner left her lips when more lights flickered in the distance. "There," she said triumphantly. "What did I tell you?"
             
He scratched the back of his head. "All right, I'll go see what's going on. You stay here."
             
"Why can't I go with you? Do you want me to call the cops?"
             
"Nah. If it's just high school kids, I'll get rid of them. No sense dragging the cops into this." He fumbled in the dark for the switch to the small bedside lamp, then opened the drawer to the nightstand on his side of the bed. "Mary, where's the gun that was in here?"
             
She rushed over and stared at the empty drawer. "I don't know. It's supposed to be in there. I didn't move it. The last time I checked, it was still there. Who could've taken it?"
             
Jack shook his head. "I don't know, babe. But somebody did. We'll have to find out who." Shaking his head, he moved into the hall.
             
She followed close behind. "What do you want me to do?"
             
"Wait in the kitchen. That way, if anything happens, you'll know and you can call the cops."
             
"Okay. I'll watch you through the curtains."
             
"Where did you put the big flashlight?" he asked.
             
"It's on the bureau, next to the whiskey bottles."
             
A few minutes later Jack joined her in the kitchen. "You stay here where it's safe," he whispered. "If I'm not back in thirty minutes, call the cops."
             
"Be careful, baby. Don't do anything stupid," she warned.
             
Closing the door softly behind him, he stepped outside and was swallowed up by the darkness. Mary moved to the window and lifted the edge of one curtain to watch his progress. One minute ticked by, then two. Three. Four. Five minutes passed, and she was still unable to see him. What was going on? Why hadn't Jack turned on his flashlight? Had something happened to him?
             
The sound of footsteps behind her made her breath catch in her throat. Who'd come in while she wasn't looking? Taking a deep breath, Mary spun around and collided with Sadie.
             
"Leave this house," Sadie said abruptly, grabbing Mary's arm. "Leave now, before it's too late," she repeated, pressing a set of keys into Mary's hand. "Get in your car, Mary. You and Jack must leave."
             
Mary shook her arm free from the old woman's grasp. "Don't be ridiculous, Sadie," she said, setting the keys on the table. "This is my home; I'm not going anywhere." She glanced back to the keys resting on the table. "Where did you get those from?"
             
Sadie's cane cracked across the small kitchen table, and the sound reverberated in Mary's ears. "Never you mind, missy, where I gots them from. You gotta leave; the brown man's here, and I don't know if I can stop him."
             
"The brown man?" Mary repeated. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she grabbed the old woman by the shoulders. "It's Sal, Dykes' friend, isn't it? He's the brown man."
             
"No. It ain't him."
             
Sadie's curt response made Mary's blood run cold. If Sal wasn't the brown man, then who was? The only other person at the plantation was...Dykes! Her worst suspicions were instantly confirmed. She recalled the emergency landings Dykes' had made the past couple of weeks, and realized that nothing had probably been wrong with the plane. He'd simply been using them to cover up whatever it was he'd been doing, and like idiots, she and Jack had gone along with whatever he'd told them. He probably hadn't been job hunting, either. What had he been doing? Her grip on Sadie's shoulders tightened until the old woman cried out in pain. "Sadie, I have to know. Is Dykes the brown man?"
             
Before Sadie could answer, Dykes strolled into the kitchen. "What's going on?" he asked. "I heard a noise. What are you two doing up at this hour of the night?"
             
Icy fingers of panic wrapped themselves around Mary's heart and squeezed until she could hardly breathe. How long had Dykes been standing in the hallway? Worse yet, just how much of her conversation with Sadie had he heard? She released her grip on Sadie's shoulders and helped the old woman to a chair, all the while trying to think of a plausible excuse. "Sadie came down for a drink of water just as I just happened to be getting something from the fridge. She started to feel faint and I caught her before she fell and hurt herself," she lied, praying that her voice, at least, sounded convincing.
             
"I see. So everything's all right, then?" Dykes inquired.
             
"Yes." Mary spotted the set of car keys sitting out in plain site on the table. Oh no! Had Dykes seen them?
             
She moved over closer to Sadie and hid the keys with her body, trying to think of a way to divert Dykes' attention while she put them in her pocket. Think, damn it, think.
             
"Could you get the glass of water for Sadie, since you're so close to the sink?"
             
"No problem." Walking over to the sink, he spotted the brass chain hanging down from the lock on the back door. "What's the back door doing open?" he asked suspiciously.
             
Mary racked her brain for a quick response, but Sadie answered first. "I thought I heard a noise outside. I unlocked the door to look out, but before I could check it, I started to feel faint," she said, pointing toward the door with her cane. "Would you check for us? It'd make me feel a lot better."
             
"Of course." Dykes stepped onto the back porch and peered into the backyard. "Nobody out there," he called over his shoulder. "Whoever it was must have gone." He shut the door behind him and stared at the two women. "Want me to bolt the door for you?"
             
"Yes, please," Mary said, slipping the keys into her pocket while she wrapped one arm around Sadie's shoulders. How was Jack going to get back into the house if the door was bolted? Realizing that the conversation had reached an uncomfortable lull, she turned her attention back to the old woman. "Sadie, why don't I help you back to bed?" she asked, nearly lifting the old woman from her chair.
             
"Here's your water," Dykes said, holding out a glass to the old woman.
             
Sadie took the glass, gulped down the water, and set the empty glass on the table. "I think I'm ready to go back to bed now."
             
"Me, too," Dykes announced, stepping into the hall. He started toward the stairs, then backtracked. "I would've thought Jack would've come downstairs with you," he commented nonchalantly.
             
"Jack? You gotta be kidding. He's the soundest sleeper I know," Mary lied. "All he has to do is lie down and he's out like a light. It'd probably take an earthquake to wake him up."
             
"Good to know at least one of us is getting a good night's sleep," Dykes observed dryly. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning."
             
"Night," Mary answered. She and Sadie watched him climb the stairs and disappear into the darkness. Taking Sadie by the shoulder, she helped the old woman back to her room and closed the door behind them.
             
"Sadie, this is very important, so I need a straight answer from you," she said. "Are you positive Dykes is the brown man?"
             
"Yes," Sadie answered. "You and Jack gotta get out of this house, Mary. You gotta leave," Sadie begged, squeezing Mary's hands. "I don't know if I can stop him."
             
Mary patted the old woman's shoulder. "I can't leave, Sadie. You need to tell me everything you saw in your dream. It's important--"
             
There was a light knock on the door. Mary held a finger against her lips to warn Sadie not to answer. Was Dykes coming back to get them? Had he realized they'd been lying through their teeth? Her desperate glance raked the room for something to protect them, and she spotted a pair of scissors on the dresser.
             
Again, a soft knock.
             
Mary motioned for Sadie to reply.
             
"Who is it?" Sadie called out in a shaky voice.
             
"It's Justine. May I come in?"
             
"Just a minute."
             
Mary shook her head, but it was too late. The door handle turned and Justine stepped into the room. Noticing Mary standing on the other side of the doorway, scissors held aloft, she gasped. "What in the world's going on? Mary, why are you holding a pair of scissors?"
             
Mary shushed her into silence, but it was too late. The sound of footsteps moving quickly down the stairs echoed through the narrow hallway. Reacting quickly, Mary locked the door and turned off the light. "Don't say anything," she whispered. "If you don't answer, maybe he'll go away. Be quiet."
             
Her heart pounded in her chest as second after agonizing second ticked by. As they listened, the footsteps faded for a few moments, then got louder, as if Dykes was moving from room to room, searching for them. By the time the footsteps stopped outside Sadie's door, Mary's blood had turned to ice and she could hardly breathe.
             
She heard the rattle of the doorknob and bit back the gasp that sprang to her lips. Did Dykes realize it was locked? Would he try to break through? The sound of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears as Mary lifted the scissors into the air, and steeled herself to thrust them into the intruder. Minute after agonizing minute ticked by as she waited in the dark for Dykes to make his move.
             
How long would he stand there? Was it Dykes or Sal who stood outside Sadie's door? Biting her bottom lip, Mary strained to listen for any inkling of how many men waited in the hallway.
             
As if in answer to her unspoken prayer, the sound of footsteps once more echoed down the hall, this time leading away from Sadie's door. Was he leaving? Holding an ear against the door, Mary heard the distinct sound of the kitchen door slam shut. He'd gone outside!