Sometime Yesterday Page 14

  The instant Natalie touched the silver handle, terror snapped at her senses and she experienced a flash of someone striking down at her face with the heavy brush. She stifled a scream and threw it across the room. She took some deep breaths and tried to shake off the residual energy attached to the object. How much pain had to be involved in an event that the echoes would still be felt over a hundred years later? Her heart ached for Beth and Sarah and she felt a surge of fresh hate for Richard.

  Natalie gathered some wet paper towels and sat to clean the case. The old lock broke open easily after a hard twist. She sneezed, dislodging more dirt, and uncovered fancy initials etched into the inside of the lid. S.S. Sarah Seeley, Natalie guessed. She carefully reached inside, ready to pull away in an instant.

  The basement door slammed and Natalie snapped her hand back. She heard a woman cry out as if struck. The cry became a plea and grew louder.

  “Please, please help us!”

  Natalie broke out in a cold sweat. For a moment, she wished frantically for her mother, and then admonished herself to be a big girl. She finally worked up the nerve to reach back into the case, finding only an old makeup compact and small bottles whose labels had disintegrated over time. When she carefully took them out and lined them on the table, she was disappointed to find the rest of the case empty. She thought for sure she was supposed to find something significant. Maybe it was a little foolish, but was it too much to hope there might have been a key?

  After emptying out the dust and dirt, Natalie was curious when she felt a slight thud, so she shook it again. Yes, there was something definitely hidden in it. Using her sensitive fingers, Natalie felt around the bottom of the lining and found the tiny spring latch.

  She flinched when the bottom dropped from the case and hit the floor. She set the case aside and gathered the bundle that had fallen out. Carefully, she unwrapped what appeared to have been black silk and discovered a small diary. Sarah’s diary.

  It was in remarkably good shape for being so old. Natalie was excited. She got her coffee, held the book close to her chest, and went into the living room to get comfortable.

  Dear Lord, I was too late!

  The Atlantic liner on which I was traveling was delayed by sea storms causing me to miss the train west. By the time I arrived, the wedding was over. I was barely introduced to the young bride before my brother pulled her away from the reception and other guests.

  I was also completely unprepared for the absolute terror that Richard’s mere presence still inspires in me. My blood still runs cold at the memories of his tortuous violations of my body and spirit.

  I should have stayed in Paris. Yet, how could I live with myself if I didn’t at least attempt to warn the girl foolish enough to marry the devil?

  I was woken this morning by the sounds of Richard leaving the house with two large valises. I waited to see the young bride join him, but he left alone. I watched his back until he was out of sight, and it was at that moment that I heard crying.

  I found poor Beth still lying on the floor of the master suite where he left her. There was so much blood! I wondered what on earth that little girl could have done on her wedding night to have my brother beat her so. The sight broke my heart, but it was the low keening that twisted in my heart and had me running to her side. I knew that sound well, and the resonance woke upon my soul the wounds still fresh under the scars that my brother bestowed upon me.

  Beth’s arms flailed at me when I held her and her heart beat fast and frantic in her chest like a baby bird’s wings in great distress. I tried to soothe her and clean the blood as best I could while she still lay on the floor, unable to yet move.

  Hours later, Beth stirred herself enough to help me get her into the washroom. It was then that she took off her tattered peignoir and I could see the full extent of her injuries. Black and purple stripes covered her thighs, stomach, and chest, her face swollen almost beyond recognition from the pretty young bride of yesterday. I could only stare in horror at vicious bite marks on her breast. She began trembling so I gently brought her to the bed that she never made it into last night. “Why?” Beth asked me.

  Why indeed, because my brother is an evil, sadistic man. I could only wonder how this fragile young woman came to marry him in the first place. Through her battered lips she told me a story so horrible, I could only sit in silence until she finished.

  Beth’s father sold her to Richard! Actually sold her for his debts to the devil himself. Her mother passed away several years ago, and Beth grew up terrorized by her own father, much as I suffered Richard.

  The horrible irony of it all is that she traded one monster for another. Her dream of escaping that prison and becoming the lady of the manor here has been brutally shattered.

  I am greatly concerned at her lack of hysterics. She seems resigned to her lot. I cannot in good conscience leave her here alone with my brother.

  I have to help her. We must plan an escape.

  Natalie wiped at the tears drying on her cheeks. Those poor women! She couldn’t imagine living in the age where a woman’s value was decided for her. Her beautiful house had been the breeding ground for so much pain. Natalie’s stomach hurt, but she wanted to continue reading and turned to the next entry, mindful of the brittle pages. There was a short notation that Richard had sent word to the women that he planned to stay in New York until his business was concluded and another on how well Beth’s injuries were healing and she was beginning to open up.

  With each page turned, Natalie could read between the lines written in Sarah’s perfect script. Sarah and Beth became inseparable, turning the gardens into a masterpiece and sharing everything about their respective histories.

  They took many long walks on the beach, which were described in great detail, but there was no mention of what they would do when Richard returned. Natalie felt helpless and wanted to scream at them to run away while they still could. She was sad for them and wanted to quit, but felt compelled to keep reading.

  I’m in love with her. How can I state it more plainly than that? I pray that I can protect her until my plea reaches Aunt Tilly. If anyone can help us, it will be her. After all, it was she who saved me when I was eighteen. My brother would never cross her. She’s far too powerful in her own right. I must stay strong for this gentle girl. I can only hope that Richard stays away until we make good on our escape.

  Natalie yelped when the phone rang and barely kept herself from throwing the diary in the air. “Hello?”

  Nothing. She was sick of this crap. She slammed the phone down on the coffee table and was surprised to see evening shadows across the floor. Just how long had she sat here anyway? She rubbed her stiff neck and stood to stretch.

  The phone rang again and she gave it a dirty look, refusing to answer it. Natalie held her breath until the ringing stopped. The red message light began blinking. Did she really want to listen to it? What if it was Van? What if it wasn’t? Stop it! She was driving herself crazy.

  Loud, crashing noises came from upstairs and the windows rattled from the force of what sounded like a battle raging outside. Ice water flooded her veins and she froze in place while the noises continued.

  My studio! The thought of anything happening to her paintings snapped Natalie out of her temporary paralysis. She raced to the top of the stairs and stopped outside the door. The second she put her hand on the knob, the noises stopped. Cold mist wrapped itself around her, the tendrils snaking through the hall behind her, almost snapping with small electrical pulses.

  Natalie reached the top of the landing and looked around the room. Oh, my God.

  The room was in absolute shambles, paint splattered on the walls, and art supplies were scattered across the floor. The armchair by the window lay on its side and her easel was broken into pieces and shoved in the corner. Natalie couldn’t seem to get a grip on the reality of what she was seeing and she sank to her knees.

  When her legs could hold her, Natalie wiped the tears from her cheeks
and began straightening the chaos. The smell of turpentine filled the room while she cleaned the paint. She admitted to herself she was scared but continued to clean in a methodical manner, keeping her focus only on removing the mess and not the cause.

  She was in the kitchen washing her hands when the phone rang. Natalie stared at it as if it were a snake ready to strike. This was ridiculous. She snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Finally!”

  “Mary, I’m glad to hear your voice.”

  “Is there something wrong with your phones?”

  “I’m going to have to call the repairman to come out here and repair the lines.” Natalie was grateful for the interruption. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. Listen, one hour, chicken fried steak for dinner, it’s your favorite, the boys want to see you, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” Mary hung up.

  Natalie chuckled. An evening with her extended family sounded like an awesome distraction. Maybe she could find some much needed balance and the dose of normality and stabilizing anchor she knew Mary could provide. She wondered if she should call Van and leave a message. Just what was the protocol here? Yes, they had gone to bed together, but that didn’t mean they had to check in with each other. She hadn’t called her all day so maybe she needed space, and realistically, could Natalie blame her after everything that was going on? Then again, her service had been so erratic, maybe she had? Natalie felt some of her old insecurities come knocking. Okay, she argued with herself, you are not going to sit at home by the phone and wait to hear from her. She did, however, make sure she had her cell phone before leaving.

  *

  Van hit the emergency doors and raced to the front desk. God, she fucking hated hospitals. She and her crew were just packing up when she got the call from Uncle John telling her that Dad had been admitted with chest pains. She tried not to think about what she would do if she lost one more person she loved. She spotted her family grouped together in the waiting room.

  “What happened?” she demanded when she reached them.

  *

  The moon was so full when Natalie drove home, the light reflected off the dark water in the ocean, making it appear as if there were two yellow orbs. She had enjoyed herself at dinner and let Mary convince her that things weren’t as scary as she thought. Some of this had to be a symptom of all the change in Natalie’s life. It had been much easier to believe her logical explanations when she was sitting in Mary’s bright kitchen than sitting in her own driveway. Natalie did her now automatic check of the front window.

  All clear, she thought while approaching the front door. The front entry was quiet but not cold. Two more points to the positive side. Natalie checked the first floor, the second floor, and stopped at the staircase to her studio. The door was shut. Leave it alone, she decided then headed for her room.

  No scent of lavender, no doors or windows opening. The air felt clear and light, but she lit the white candles on her nightstand anyway. Natalie let some tension slide from her shoulders. She got ready for bed then checked her messages. No word from Van. She tried not to feel apprehensive. How awful would it be that she finally found some passion and affection only to lose it? That would be worse than never having it at all. She knew what that felt like, and how could you miss something you never had?

  Natalie lay awake listening for noises in the house.

  She must have dozed off because the candles were out. Natalie turned over and saw a fire burning in the hearth, casting shadows on the walls. She attempted to sit but felt heavy and lethargic.

  “I’m talking to you. Wake up bitch.”

  Natalie opened her eyes, once again lying next to Beth and trapped in her memories. Richard looked down at them with a predatory smile and she felt bile rise in her throat. “Please, just let me know if there is any word from Sarah and then leave me alone.”

  “I told you that she wouldn’t look back. She did the same thing when she turned eighteen.” Richard’s eyes narrowed and Natalie felt the cruel fingers that roughly pulled Beth to a sitting position as well as the bruises on her body from her last beating.

  “She wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”

  “Did you think she actually cared about you? You, a worthless, stupid bitch? Or did you think she would take you away with her?”

  Beth didn’t answer, just hung her head. Natalie could feel the tears that spilled over with the hopelessness that overwhelmed her.

  “I would kill you if you left. I would hunt you down and fucking murder you, do you hear? I own you, remember?” Richard pulled back his arm to make a fist.

  Beth screamed and curled to protect her stomach. “The baby! Don’t hurt the baby.”

  “Don’t hurt the baby,” Richard mocked in a high voice. “It better be a son and not a stupid cunt like you are. I might just kill you both.” Richard shrugged into his coat and grabbed his hat. “I can’t even stand to be in the same room with you. You’re pathetic.” Dark shadows swarmed around his retreating figure.

  Natalie held her breath and waited for the door to close. Beth cried next to her and rocked back and forth. “She said she loved me. Why did she leave?” Fresh grief stabbed Natalie’s heart.

  “Sarah? The baby just kicked.”

  Natalie realized she could feel the strangest sensation. She put a hand to her stomach. It felt like the flutter of a butterfly against the inside of her skin. Beth began humming while she rocked. “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.”

  Natalie felt her heart crack when she recognized the lullaby.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Van was exhausted from sitting up all night with her father while they waited for the test results to come back and a specialist to arrive. They were relieved to find out it was nothing serious, but the doctors decided they were going to keep her father for observation for several more hours. She couldn’t go home until she checked on Natalie, whom she knew must be sleeping. She would just take a quick peek. After finding her crying in the studio and then again outside in the rain the previous night, she felt she had to make sure she was safe.

  Van stood in the dark kitchen to let her eyes adjust, but when she started for the stairs, she felt the air get thick and cold. Her steps were heavy and in slow motion. She tried not to panic as she attempted to run. This was the stuff nightmares were made of. Nausea rose and stole her breath; her legs wouldn’t go any faster than a slow crawl, and her muscles burned with the effort. Sweat trickled down her neck, and icy fingers tap danced on her spine. The staircase grew taller right before her, and for every tread she managed to climb, it seemed ten more were added to the top. She tried to yell for Natalie, but the only sound that would come out of her throat was a harsh whisper. The illusion of the never-ending staircase shattered into pieces and Van fell onto the landing, gasping for breath. She gained her feet and raced for the bedroom.

  Van stood in the doorway and tried to reconcile her brain with what her eyes were seeing. It wasn’t Natalie’s room, the one she spent the night in. She looked over at the unfamiliar bed. There was a small shape huddled under the blankets that shook with small, wounded sobs. “Natalie?” She ran to the bed and tried to throw the covers off, but she was horrified to find that her hand went through them. The bedroom door slammed and Van spun around, fists clenched, legs steady, ready to fight. A man approached her and flipped his hat onto the chair, shedding his long black coat as he came closer. He was a big man, but not much taller than her. She held her defensive stance. She noticed his dark eyes and a scar that ran down his sharp cheekbone toward the corner of his cruel thin mouth. Rough stubble colored his face. He moved past her and sat on the other end of the bed.

  He yanked the covers and exposed the woman who appeared to be hiding.

  Van blinked. It wasn’t Natalie. The woman’s long dark hair was tangled in the sheets and she was curled up to protect against the attack. Van couldn’t see her face but could only assume that this was Sarah and her brother Richard. The dark ma
n. Shit.

  When Richard fisted his hand in Sarah’s hair, Van’s head snapped back and her eyes watered from the pain. “Leave her alone!” she yelled and swung at him, nearly falling when she spun with the force.

  “Wake up!”

  Van blinked and looked at Natalie’s concerned face above her. Her heart was racing and she felt completely disoriented.

  “You scared me to death.”

  “What happened?”

  “I went to bed alone and woke up with you screaming next to me.”

  Van sat up and realized she was under the covers. Had she simply crawled into bed next to a sleeping Natalie and been dreaming? Her hands were shaking, but she rubbed her temples and tried to comprehend what just happened.

  Natalie got on her knees and curled up against Van’s back, her body heat warming the chilled skin. “When did you get here?”

  “I was just coming to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to intrude, and I don’t remember getting in the bed.” Van wondered just how many lines she crossed by letting herself in. She simply hadn’t thought about it while she was focused on Natalie’s safety.

  “It was certainly an interesting way to wake up, and you’re not intruding. I appreciate your concern, but where were you that you came in so late?”

  Van checked the clock. Damn. It was already ten in the morning. She told Natalie about the night with her father in the hospital.

  “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come. Is he okay now?”

  “They said I could take him home this afternoon. He’ll be fine. He may not like slowing down or changing his habits, but he’ll be okay.” She didn’t tell Natalie how scared she’d been sitting there next to her pale father. It reminded her too much of Cara’s death, making grief feel fresh and new all over again. By the time they got the test results and knew her dad was okay, it was too late to call.