Help Wanted (9 page)

“I told you she'd come for me! She won't leave me alone until I'm dead, too!”

“Claudia!” Robin gasped. “Oh, my God—”

“Now do you see?” Claudia spun toward her, sobbing.
“Now
will you believe me?”

Before Robin could stop her, the girl bolted for the stairs. Robin threw one last horrified look at the thing in the corner and then raced down behind Claudia.

The hallway was empty when Robin got there. As she turned toward the study, the lights flickered once and then went out, plunging the hall into sudden and complete darkness.

“Claudia! Claudia, where are you?”

The police—I've got to call the police—

Frantically Robin groped her way along the corridor, trying to find the study. She knew the passageway was long, but now it seemed interminable, and as her hands slid over door after door, she tried every knob and found them all locked.

“Help! Somebody help! Please!”

She could still see that horrible thing upstairs—could still see it moving—
trying to sit up? Oh, God, what if it really was someone hurt and still alive—and I ran away and I didn't even try to help—

She wondered if she was losing her mind. She couldn't even think anymore, she was trying so desperately to hurry, her arms out feeling along the walls. Without warning she touched empty air and pitched forward into the dark. She gasped as she fell against something solid, and then she was stumbling, crawling, crashing into furniture as she tried to find her way to the door again.

“Help!” Robin cried. “Oh, Claudia, where are you?”

“What are you doing?” a voice demanded.

Screaming, Robin spun around and saw a shadowy silhouette on the threshold. As it started toward her, she stepped back, groping behind her, and miraculously found the telephone. Robin could only think of one thing now. She jerked up the receiver and started punching 911.

A hand clamped over hers and pulled the phone away.

“What do you think you're doing?” Parker asked again, and as he shone a flashlight into her face, Robin shielded her eyes and tried to draw back from him.

“Let go! I've got to call the police!”

“The police?” Parker sounded bewildered, and his hold tightened around Robin's hand, prying the receiver loose.

“You don't understand!” Robin cried. “There's someone upstairs! Up there in the bathroom—drowned—”

“I told you!” Claudia sobbed, and as Parker's light swiveled to the other side of the room, they could see Claudia framed there in the doorway. “I told you, but you wouldn't—”

Her voice broke off as she took an unsteady step forward. Robin saw her grab for the doorframe and miss, and in the next instant Claudia crumpled slowly to the ground.

“Claudia!” Robin started toward her, but Parker was quicker. He scooped Claudia up in his arms and laid her down on the couch.

“Is she all right?” Feeling queasy herself, Robin backed away toward the door. At that moment Winifred stepped in from the hallway, holding a candle in front of her, her face ghostly and anxious.

“What is it, Mr. Parker? I thought I heard—oh, my Lord!” The woman crossed herself, and her face seemed to go whiter. “Is she dead? Has Miss Lillith come back for her, just like she said?”

“She fainted,” Parker said impatiently. “And don't talk about Lillith in front of Claudia—or me—again. Do you understand?”

Winifred gave a frightened nod and disappeared, but was back again in a second with the water. Claudia had roused a little, and as Parker held the glass to her lips, she coughed and weakly pushed at his arm.

“I'm all right,” she mumbled. “Go away.”

“But—upstairs—” Robin pointed helplessly toward the foyer, but nobody seemed to be listening. “What are we going to do? We've got to do something!”

Parker stepped away from the couch. Claudia leaned into the cushions, and as Robin heard more footsteps approaching from the corridor, Mr. Swanson came shuffling in waving another flashlight.

“What's all this?” he barked. “Someone sick? Someone hurt? You'd better tell me—I'll find out soon enough! Winifred? Blast it, turn on a light, will you?”

“I can't turn on the lights, Mr. Swanson—there aren't any lights to turn on!” Winifred babbled. “Tell him, Mr. Parker!”

Robin rushed over and grabbed the old man's sleeve.

“Mr. Swanson—please! You've got to do something!”

“What's that? What are you talking about?”

“Upstairs! Please—hurry!”

“Never mind.” Claudia looked at Robin, her voice weak and dull. “It won't do any good. It's not you she wants.”

“We've got to call the police!” Robin begged.

“What is she talking about?” Mr. Swanson erupted angrily. “Blast it all, Robin Bailey, I hired you because I wanted someone
sane
in this house for a change!”

“But I
am
being sane,” Robin pleaded, “if you'd just listen to me!”

“You
listen to her!” Mr. Swanson ordered Parker. “Go with her and listen to her and see what the heck she's so upset about!”

“Okay.” Parker sighed. “Show me.” Even in the dim light Robin could see him exchange looks with his grandfather, who in turn promptly glared at Claudia.

“More of
your
nonsense, I suppose. Can't I get a moment's peace around here? People yelling—lights going out … What's the problem, Winifred—did you forget to pay the electric bill? For God's sake, Parker, take another flashlight so you don't fall and kill yourself.”

Parker nodded and pulled one from the desk drawer. Then he followed Robin back down the hall.

“There!” Robin pointed to the door at the end of the passageway. It was shut now, but as Parker swung it open, she could see stairs going up into the darkness.

“There's nothing up there,” Parker told her. “It used to be a bathroom, but now it's just an old storage—”

“There
is
something!” Robin said fiercely. “I saw it!”

Parker hesitated, as if to speak, then seemed to change his mind. Slowly he started up. Robin followed at a safe distance, her hand over her mouth to hold back a scream. She saw Parker reach the top of the steps, saw him stand for a long moment, saw the slow shrug of his shoulders.

“What are we going to do?” Robin whispered. “We've got to do something!”

“About what?” Parker said.

Robin looked at him blankly. He turned and held out his hand.

“Come up here. I want you to see.”

“No, I can't look at it again—I—”

“Come on,” Parker said firmly, and he took Robin's hand and pulled her up beside him.

He aimed the flashlight against the opposite wall.

Robin felt her blood go cold.

In the glow of Parker's flashlight Robin could see the old-fashioned bathtub with its claw feet. She could see the straight-backed chair beside it, practically invisible pushed back into the corner, and she could see the dripping mound of wet draperies hanging over the back of the chair and flowing down across the floor.

No body. No spreading pool of blood.

“It—I mean, it can't be! I mean—I saw her!”

Parker groaned. “Saw who?”

“A woman!” Robin turned frightened eyes to Parker's narrowed ones. “I'm not lying—you've got to believe me! She was lying there in the tub and there was all this blood! She had a white dress and long hair—like—like the woman in the painting!”

“A white dress,” Parker repeated.

“Yes!”

“About the length of those curtains?”

“Well … but it wasn't curtains! I … at least, I don't think …” Robin's voice trailed off in confusion.

“Was Claudia here with you?” Parker asked.

“Well, yes, I mean not at first—well, yes, she might have been at first—she was behind me—”

“That's what I thought,” he said, and Robin stared at him.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Come on. Let's go back down.”

Robin was dumbfounded. As she followed Parker back to the study, her mind raced in a hundred different directions. They reached the study, and Mr. Swanson looked questioningly at Parker. Parker shook his head, and the old man's face darkened.

“All this commotion!” he sniffed. “Can't an old man take a simple nap anymore? Idiots! I'm surrounded by a bunch of total idiots!”

“Something was up there!” Robin insisted, but Parker turned to Winifred.

“What's that stuff hanging up there in the storage room?” he asked her.

“Storage room?” For a moment the maid's face looked blank, but then she began to nod. “Why, drapes, Mr. Parker. They needed a proper washing, and they wouldn't fit in the machine. So I thought I'd just use that old tub up there—it did nicely.”

“See?” There was no mistaking the smugness in Parker's tone, and Robin felt a surge of anger go through her.

“I know what I saw!” she burst out at him.

“Oh, come on, it was an honest mistake.” Parker laughed. “And in the bad light—you were nervous—”

“She's come back.” Claudia sat up straighter on the couch and stared at them.

The room grew uncomfortably still. Robin saw Winifred put one hand to her heart. Old Mr. Swanson slammed his fist down on the desk, and everyone jumped.

“Balderdash, I tell you! It's all balderdash! If you keep this up, Claudia, I swear on your mother's grave, I'm going to have you locked up!”

“It wouldn't do any good,” Claudia replied calmly. “She'll find me there just like she found me here. She can go anywhere she pleases. She can follow me anyplace I go. I can't hide from her. I can never hide from her. She'll have me when she wants me. It's inevitable.”

Even in the shadowy room Robin could see the old man's eyes fairly shooting sparks. The tension in the air was so thick, the room seemed ready to explode.

“Don't you believe me?” Claudia begged. She looked at Robin and her voice tightened. “Don't you believe
her?
”

“I saw something,” Robin said.

Everyone stared at her.

“That's why I went up there in the first place,” she explained. “I heard someone calling for help. I thought it was Winifred, that maybe she was hurt.”

“That wasn't me,” Winifred said nervously, “and I certainly wasn't hurt.”

“She said Claudia's name.”

Claudia went pale. “Me,” she whispered. “I told you.”

“I
did
call out to Claudia,” Winifred said cautiously, as though afraid she'd be reprimanded for it. “I thought I heard a door slam and that it might be her coming home. I called out to her, but I don't think you could have heard me in the study.” She glanced at Robin, then quickly away.

Silence fell again.

“It moved,” Robin insisted. “I saw it—it moved in the bathtub like it was trying to get up!”

“Maybe it was waiting for you to hand it a towel,” Parker deadpanned.

“It's not funny!” Robin said furiously.

“I didn't say it was! All I said was—”

“I have to go,” Robin said stiffly. “I've got to get home.”

“If you know what's good for you, you'll never come back,” Claudia said.

Everyone looked at her. No one even seemed to be aware Robin was there. At last Parker glanced over, almost as an afterthought.

“Did you drive?” he asked.

Robin shook her head. “No. Walked.”

“Then you shouldn't go alone. I'll take you.”

“I don't want you to take me. I'd rather walk.”

“I'll
take
you,” he said and gave a sweeping bow.

Robin clamped her mouth shut. She jumped as Winifred tapped her on the shoulder and magically produced her jacket.

“Thanks,” Robin whispered.

The maid nodded and vanished into the shadows down the hall. For a long moment Mr. Swanson glared at Claudia, until finally the girl stood up, held her head high, and walked deliberately past him out of the room.

“Come on,” Parker said, and before Robin could even say good night to Mr. Swanson, Parker took her arm and guided her swiftly down the hall and out the front door.

The night was bitingly cold. As Robin zipped up her jacket, the porch light popped on without warning, and she jumped back with a cry.

“It's you, isn't it?” Parker teased. “You have some kind of aura around you. You make lights go off and on and spirits walk.”

“If I had powers like that, I'd make you disappear,” Robin retorted.

He chuckled and hopped lightly down onto the driveway. She watched as he tried his car door, but when it wouldn't open, he leaned over and peered into the window, then turned back to her, swearing.

“Some evil spirit locked my keys in. Do you care if we walk?”

“I can go alone, I don't need you to—” Robin started, but Parker grabbed her elbow and steered her down the drive.

“I just live over on—”

“I know where you live,” Parker said, grinning.

Robin stared at him in confusion. She felt overwhelmed by everything that had happened, and as he ushered her quickly away from Manorwood and on through the neighboring streets, he seemed almost in a jovial mood.

“Wait,” she said at last, stopping on the sidewalk. “I've got to talk about what just happened back there.”

“You mean my keys? It's very simple, really. See—you just leave them in the ignition, push the lock on the door, and—”

“Will you be serious—I'm really upset about this!” Robin broke out of his grasp and whirled to face him. “I don't understand what's happening!”

For a long moment Parker stared at her. When he finally answered, his voice was hard.

“Claudia's paranoia is what's happening.” Abruptly he turned and started walking again, but he did slow down enough to let Robin catch up.