Whispers from the Dead (12 page)

“Speaking of shopping,” Mom said, “I’ve been making a list. Hardware, plumbing supplies, that sort of thing. It’s going to take me all afternoon to find everything on my list. Want to come? Or would you rather stay home?”

I smiled at her. “Going to a plumbing-supply store is not my idea of real excitement. I could stay here and work and be of more help. Would you like me to unpack the books and put them in the bookcases? I know how you like them arranged.”

“I’d love it if you’d take care of the books,” Mom said. “I’ve been dreading that job.”

The mail came, but no letter from Marcie. Why should I have expected one? I hadn’t written to her, either. I’ll write today, I promised myself. I’ll tell her about Dee Dee. Maybe about Tony. But I knew I wouldn’t. I was distancing myself, afraid to write a letter that might not be answered.

Mom left after lunch, and Dinky settled into a nap on the top box of those marked
BOOKS
. I moved Dinky to another perch. Upset at being moved, she narrowed her eyes and mewed a complaint, then pretended to go back to sleep.

I was so busy checking titles and reading snatches here and there that I jumped when the doorbell rang. Dinky rose majestically, flipping her tail with a snap of irritation.

Through the window by the door I saw Tony and stopped, catching my breath, as his eyes met mine. I smiled, not trying to hide my delight, and hurried to open the door.

“I was in the neighborhood and thought this would be a good time to meet your mother,” Tony said as he stepped inside and shut the door.

The air turned cold, and the walls of the entry hall seemed to press inward. My head pounded and I silently screamed at Rosa,
No! Not now! Go away! You can’t do this to me now!

Gasping for breath, I grabbed Tony’s hand and tugged him past the entry hall, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. I let go and leaned against the
nearest counter, breathing heavily. Whatever I had felt in the entry hall had gone.

But Tony was studying me, and it surprised me that his eyes had narrowed in the same way that Dinky narrowed hers, with light seeming to gleam from under the lashes. “What’s the matter, Sarah?” he asked me.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” I tried to shrug off what had happened. “I’ve been working hard unpacking books. I guess I got a little out of breath.” I opened the refrigerator door, wanting desperately to talk about something else. “How about a soft drink?”

“Sure,” he said, “but I can only stay for a few minutes.” He looked at his watch and glanced back through the living room. “Where’s your mother?”

“Oh. Mom. She left to run errands. She won’t be back for a few hours.”

Tony smiled. Did I imagine that he looked relieved? “My bad timing,” he said. “Well, as long as I’m here, I’ll help you unpack the books.”

“Thanks, but you said you could only stay a few minutes. You won’t have time.”

His smile was easy. “I’ll make time.”

We took our soft drinks into the den, and Tony worked beside me, making the job go much faster. Our conversation consisted of his asking, “Where do these go?” and my telling him, “On the bottom shelf over there” or “Right here, next to the gardening books,” until he suddenly stopped, took the books I was holding out of my hands, and led me to the sofa.

“We need a break,” he said. “I want a chance to talk
to you.” He didn’t let go of my hand, and I was glad. I didn’t want him to.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tony said.

“There’s not much to tell. We used to live in Missouri until Dad was transferred here to Houston.”

“That’s not about
you
,” he insisted, and leaned closer, staring into my eyes as though he could see what was in my mind. “I want to know about Sarah, the things that make her happy, the things she likes, even the things that frighten her.” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

His question puzzled me. “Why should you want to know what frightens me?”

“Something frightens you,” he said. He stroked my hand. “Look. You’re trembling.”

Maybe it was Tony who frightened me. Or the way he made me feel. I wasn’t sure.

“If it’s the house,” he said, “maybe I can help you.”

He leaned back, breaking the spell, and I took a long shuddering breath. “How could you help me?”

“You’re forgetting. I know Adam. I know the story about the murder.”

“Did Adam tell you why he did it?”

Tony threw me a quick sideways glance. “There wasn’t much doubt. He was on medication for a couple of things—an antibiotic he was taking because of a viral infection and a steroid he was taking to build himself up for the football team. He’d been having trouble with depression, too, and a doctor had given him something for that. Adam said he was so over-medicated, he didn’t know what he was doing.”

“But murder?” I asked. “How could anyone not know he was killing someone?”

Tony bristled. “I’m on Adam’s side,” he said. “I don’t want him to go to prison.”

“There’s not much chance of that, is there?” I knew I sounded bitter, because Tony gave me another sharp look.

He was quiet for a few minutes, then said, “I guess it’s you I’m thinking of, Sarah, and not Adam. I don’t like to think of your being frightened in this house. You’re a very special person, and I want you to be happy, not afraid.”

“I—I’ll be all right.”

Tony moved closer and put an arm around my shoulders.

“You were frightened of something when I got here. I could see it in your face. What was it?”

“It was just—well, a sensation I had. It went away.”

Tony’s hand on my arm was warm and firm. “If you want to talk about it, Sarah, I’ll listen.”

I would have loved to have been able to tell him everything that had happened to me, but of course I couldn’t. Yet maybe there
was
something Tony could help me with. I asked him, “You came here to see Adam sometimes. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever meet any of the Holts’ household help?”

For just a second his fingers tightened on my arm, but he answered easily, “Sure. There were a couple of them over the years—maybe three.”

“One named Rosa Luiz?”

“Rosa Luiz?” His voice was strained. “I don’t know. I’m not sure. The name isn’t familiar.”

“She was young and slender with a small, narrow face and large eyes.”

He sat upright, turned, and peered into my face. “How do you know what she looked like?”

Stunned, I fumbled for an answer. “I—I found some things that belonged to her. She’d hidden them away under a loose baseboard in the closet in the maid’s room off the kitchen.”

“What were these things?”

“Money—both pesos and United States currency; a letter telling her that her uncle had died, which was addressed to her at a Mexican address; a silver religious medal; and a calendar.”

“A calendar! What kind of a calendar?”

“Just a small calendar, two years old. She’d marked off the days up to March third.”

He paused for a minute, breathing heavily.

“What’s the matter?” I asked him.

“Nothing’s the matter,” Tony said. “I’m just trying to remember, as you asked me to.” Suddenly he added, “You didn’t mention the photograph.”

“There wasn’t a photograph.”

“Then how do you know what she looked like?”

I took a deep breath and the words tumbled out. “I saw the woman—Rosa—in a dream.”

I hated myself for telling. I’d done it again. I waited for the wary, embarrassed look to come into Tony’s eyes. But it didn’t. Tony looked at me seriously. “A dream,” he
murmured. “I seem to remember there
was
a young woman. I think her name could have been Rosa.”

“When did she live here?”

He scowled, as though he were thinking hard. “How should I know?”

“I mean, was it a long time ago? A few years ago?” Why had I asked that? Was I testing him?

Tony leaned back against the sofa cushions, and his eyes narrowed again as he studied me. “The calendar you found should tell you that, shouldn’t it?”

Embarrassed, I blushed. There was no way to explain.

“Time for me to be going,” Tony said abruptly, and stood. He reached down for my hand and pulled me to my feet.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” I said. “I—I wasn’t trying to trick you.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tony said. “I told you I couldn’t stay long. I’m going to be late as it is.”

I looked at the clock in the VCR on top of the television set. “Mom should be home soon,” I said. “I wish you could stay just a little while longer and meet her.”

“Sorry.” Tony stopped me as I turned to go toward the front door and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Sarah,” he said, “I don’t like to worry you, but I hope you’ve got Rosa’s things well hidden.”

“Hidden? Why?”

“Are they?”

“No. Not exactly. They’re in the chest of drawers in my room, but no one goes in there but me.” He looked so serious that it scared me. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one should know about them. You haven’t told anyone besides me, have you?”

“I telephoned Mr. Holt to ask him about Rosa and told him I’d found—well, some of her things. And Dee Dee knows. She was here when I found them. She translated the letter for me.”

Tony sucked in his breath and muttered something. “I’m sorry Dee Dee knows. The fewer people the better.”

“Why?”

“Why? Oh, because Dee Dee spills everything she knows.”

“I asked her not to.”

He shook his head. “There’s no way of telling what those things of Rosa’s mean. Probably nothing, but we ought to keep quiet about them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She would have headed back to Mexico,” he said. “There’d be no way to find her, and in trying, you might stir up a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

“For whom?”

“For Adam and his family,” he said. “Probably for Rosa, too, since she was here illegally.” He took a deep breath, and his eyes were so dark and demanding that I shivered. He added in a voice so soft, I had to strain to hear, “And maybe for you.”

My voice cracked as I tried to talk. “Tony! Are you threatening me?”

“Oh, Sarah!” he said, as though I’d hurt him. “Don’t think that. It wasn’t a threat. What I said was only a warning.”

M
om was disappointed that she had missed meeting Tony. “I wish he’d called in advance,” she said.

“He didn’t plan on coming. He just happened to be in the neighborhood,” I told her.

A little wrinkle flickered between Mom’s eyebrows. “Sarah, before you go out with Tony again, your father and I want to meet him.”

“Sure,” I answered quickly. “That’s taken for granted.”

“Just make sure Tony knows the rule.”

“I will. You’re going to like Tony, Mom. I promise.” Smiling, I rummaged through the nearest brown paper bag and said, “Nothing interesting in here. When I was a little kid, you used to bring me a lollipop.”

“Try the bag near the stove,” she said with a grin. “No lollipops in it, but I think you’ll settle for some red grapes. They look sweet enough to burst.”

I washed the grapes, put them in a bowl, and Mom joined me, munching on a handful of grapes as she leaned against the counter. “I stopped off at the civic-club office,” she said. “I signed up for a family membership at the swimming pool.”

When I didn’t answer, she added, “Whenever you’re ready to go swimming again, Sarah, the pool will be there.”

But I wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Dee Dee came over the next morning. “I saw your names on the club roster!” she said to Mom and me. “Have you been swimming in the pool yet?”

“We haven’t had a chance,” Mom told her.

“There’s no time like the present,” Dee Dee said. “I’m subbing for another guard, so I’ve got to be at the pool in a few minutes. Why don’t you come with me? It’s a hot, beautiful day, and the water is going to feel wonderful.”

“I’d love to,” Mom said. She pushed a damp strand of hair back from her forehead and laughed. “It wasn’t hard to talk me into it, was it?”

They turned toward me.

“I’ll work on putting the books away. There aren’t many left,” I told them.

“No,” Dee Dee said firmly. “Come with us. If you don’t want to swim, no one’s going to make you, but you can watch us having fun and work on your tan. If you don’t have sunscreen, I’ll lend you mine.”