Tab Bennett and the Inbetween (2 page)

I know what you’re thinking; if someone suggests lying to the police while members of his family are being kidnapped and murdered, it’s probably because he is a kidnapper and a murderer. But that didn’t even cross my mind. I was too busy looking up at the stars blinking and shining on the ceiling of the study.

By the time the police arrived I’d memorized Pop’s story about Becky’s violent boyfriend, the fights they’d had, the threats he’d made. I told the officer who took my statement how scared I was of him, how frightened I’d been for my sister’s safety. After talking to each of us, discretely of course, we were Bennetts after all and that means something in a town called Bennett Falls, the police concluded that Becky had most likely run off with her boyfriend. As she was an adult, there was nothing we could do about it – even if we disapproved. Case closed.

“He’s afraid he’s going to lose you.” George’s voice pulled me out of my head and back into the moment.

I laughed. Not to be a jerk or anything, but because I thought that was a genuinely funny thing to say. “Considering the circumstances, I’d say that’s a reasonable fear.”

It was pretty clear to me that someone wanted the Bennett girls dead, that he was working his way down a list with our names on it, that mine was the only one still without a check mark next to it.

George frowned. “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything.”

“You are. You’re being cold and distant and a little bit bitchy.” He came and sat on the edge of Pop’s desk.

“I’m so sorry if my fear of death is inconveniencing you.”

He laughed, replacing his smile with an alarmingly serious expression once it became clear that I wasn’t going to join in. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“No,” I said. But that was a lie. If I trusted anyone, it was George.

 “Do you trust me?” he asked again.

I nodded, but grudgingly.

“Then believe me when I say that I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

I had the good manners not to ask if he had made the same promise to my sisters.

*******

Only thirteen months older than me, Rivers was my constant companion growing up. And although we had nothing in common; she was shy and I’m a social butterfly; she was a reader and I’m a runner; she was a thinker and I tend to let my heart carry me away,  she was also my best friend. We went everywhere together and told each other everything. Well, I told her everything anyway. Rivers kept some secrets from me.

She ran away the summer before we graduated high school without so much as a word. Not even a note. I didn’t hear from her until two years ago when she showed up back home, tired and sad and looking like she’d done more than her share of rambling.

She’d probably still be alive if she’d just stayed away.

I pushed the thought out of my mind. If I wasn’t very careful, the vision of her death would start up again in my head and I knew from previous experience that once it started, it would be hard to stop.

Look, I’m not the sort of person who looks for a bright side to every situation – sometimes even the silver lining is black – but if I was, I’d point to that, to previous experience, as the one good thing to come with each vision. I won’t say I was getting used to them because I don’t think it’s possible to get used to something so horrific, but I was learning how to separate myself from them, how to keep them from creeping back into my head once they’d passed.

The first time it happened I was completely unprepared. I was in the kitchen making a peanut butter and banana sandwich when I started to feel lightheaded. I steadied myself against the counter, closing my eyes so the room would stop spinning. When I opened them I was with Molly, I was Molly, and I was in the dark gasping for air. I panicked until there was nothing left to breathe and then she died and I passed out, hitting my head on the edge of the counter as I fell. I woke up hours later, hysterical and terrified and convinced I was dead.

The next month, I relived the whole series of events, from the vision to the crash of my head against the ground to the moonless night to the shallow grave somewhere close enough to Witchwood Manor that anyone one of us, leaning out the window at the right time, might have seen someone dragging Becky’s body across the lawn. I handled it better. A little better anyway. I mean, at least I knew I wasn’t dead.

 “They’re back,” George said a moment before I heard the kitchen door open and the sound of voices in the hall. As they got closer, I heard Matthew mumbling something and Francis whisper yell a response. George smiled nervously and shook his head, indicating that it was nothing to worry about.

Robbin came into the study first, followed by Francis and Matthew who were staring murder at each other. They were all filthy; dirt caked on their hands and smeared across their faces. Matthew had leaves in his long blond hair and a few broken bits of twig sticking out of his braid. Pop walked in a moment later without so much as speck of dirt on him. He had obviously been a huge help.

Taking a seat behind his desk, he reached for the telephone. When we didn’t get the hint, he held the receiver away from his mouth to say, “You should all go to bed. We have done all we can for tonight.”

“We could call the police,” I said. I turned to my cousins and fiancé for someone to back me up me but none of them would even look at me.

Pop set the phone down with a sigh.  “And what would we tell them, Tabitha? That you’ve had a vision of your sister’s death?” He said vision like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “If we call the police now, when your word is the only evidence of the crime, they will either think you are suffering from delusions or else that you are responsible for all the disappearances that have plagued our family as of late.”

Francis said, “He’s right, Tab.”

“If there was anything they could do for Rivers,” Pop added, “I would have called them immediately.” I looked at George and he nodded in agreement. “But this is a problem we are better equipped to handle ourselves.”

I wish I could say I demanded he call the police or that I used my own perfectly good dialing fingers to call them myself, but that’s not who I was then. I may have resented it or disagreed with him, but to me Pop’s word was still the last one. When he said don’t, I didn’t.

 “In the morning,” he continued, “You and George will go to work as usual while the rest of us search the grounds. Once we have found something to report, I will call the police. Until then, as difficult as you may find it, you will have to trust that I am only doing what I must to protect you from them.”

“It’s not the police I’m afraid of.” I ignored Robbin’s out stretched hand, walked from the room and down the hall to the front door. Ripping it open, I went out into the night.

I know, I know. It is hard to believe I’m that stupid.

*********

I tromped down the grassy slope between Witchwood Manor and the gatekeeper’s cottage blinded by tears and shame, certain I’d failed Rivers when she needed me most, hating myself for being alive when she was not.

“Wait.”

I looked back over my shoulder to see Robbin hurrying down the front steps of the Manor. I wasn’t surprised to see him there – if anything I was a little surprised by how long it had taken him to come after me.

 “I’m fine.” I tried to make my voice steady so he wouldn’t know I was crying. “Go back to the Manor.”

“Come on babe,” he called from behind me. “You know I can’t do that. Just wait for me.”

I didn’t slow down but I didn’t have to. In no time at all he ran up behind me and grabbed my waist, slinging me up onto his back without even breaking his stride.

“Please put me down and go back to the Manor.”

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to let you risk your life walking around alone in the dark because you feel bad about something that’s not your fault. You want to storm out of the room? Fine with me but you’d better take me with you.”

After a few minutes I relaxed against him, letting myself enjoy the feeling of being so close to his perfectly muscled body. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

Robbin and I had been dating since junior high school but, at his insistence, we’d never done much more than kiss. When I asked him why he didn’t want more he would always gently change the topic. Most of the time I let him get away with it. It seemed untoward to pester him into sleeping with me and everyone knows begging isn’t sexy. Once in a while I’d get brave or stupid or some dizzying combination of the two and try again, but my attempts at seduction never worked. I’d pretty much resigned myself to the idea of being one of those rare brides who can legitimately wear white to her wedding but that night I was sad and scared and I wanted him to love me more than I wanted my pride. I decided to give it another try.

I pressed close to him, kissing his neck and ear, delighting at the little shiver I felt run up his spine. I wasn’t surprised when he set me down on my own feet and I wasn’t deterred either. I put my hand on his cheek and stepped close to him. I stood on tiptoes and brushed my lips against his. He let me kiss him for a second before he pulled away, pushing me back at the same time. “That’s enough.”

Embarrassed, I took another step away from him, pulling the house key from my pocket.

“It’s just that your grandfather trusts me to look after you.” He followed me across the front porch to the door. “And you’re upset. I’d be taking advantage of.…”

My hands were shaking so hard I couldn’t get the key into the lock. “Do you realize if it had been me tonight instead of Rivers I would have died a twenty-four year old virgin?” My voice cracked a little and the jangling keys fell from my hand. “Just tell me, is there something wrong with me? Don’t you think I’m pretty? Don’t you want . . . me?”

“You think I don’t want you?”

He grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around and slamming my body against his. The sweet, gentle Robbin I’d always known was gone, replaced by someone whose need was a palpable thing pressing hot and hard between us. There was something dark and wild in his eyes. Something desperate. He glared at me for a breathless moment before his mouth crashed against mine.

“Don’t ever think I don’t want you,” he growled. “You are all I want.”

He rolled his tongue over my lips, between them, darting into my mouth and away. He pushed his body against mine, each thrust of his hips deepening the ache growing inside me. I wanted to touch him, every part of him, before he came to his senses and pushed me away as he had so many times before.

His breath came in uneven bursts as I slipped my hand under his jacket, feeling the heat of his skin, the muscles of his back moving underneath my hand. I ran cautious fingers along the waistband of his jeans. With a sharp intake of breath he closed his eyes, letting me caress him.

“I want you, Robbin. Please.”

Without warning, he pushed me away. “This can’t happen.” He grabbed the keys from where they’d fallen and unlocked the door. “Nothing else is going to happen. Now get in the house,” he rasped.

Those were the last words he spoke to me all night.

As we walked through the lobby at the Bennett Falls Bank, George smiled and greeted the loan officers, tellers, and customer service team members, asking after spouses and children by name. Watching him, so friendly and relaxed, you never would have guessed he was having anything other than an ordinary, murder-free day. I, on the other hand, looked like someone who had spent much of the night crying – probably because I was.

“I don’t know why we’re even here,” I said, stopping with him in front of his office door.

“I don’t know about you, but I work here.” He pointed to a silver nameplate mounted on his door before pushing it open. 

Before Molly’s death turned my cousins into BFB’s most dedicated (and useless) employees, Pop, Becky, and I were the only Bennetts who worked at the bank.  It wasn’t until afterwards that George and Francis started coming in too. They claimed to be taking an interest in Pop’s business but all they did was shuffle papers and follow me around. Rivers said Matt followed her around at home too. The three of them denied it, but I knew we were being watched.