The Scent of Heather Page 6

  Guilt because Maggie had found her slipping out of David McCloud’s little apartment or from something more.

  But why would Rebecca want her dead? She disliked the new house, perhaps, but surely that was hardly a reason to set fire to it...and to her own sister as well.

  Rebecca started to strip herself out of her clothes. “I don’t know what possessed you to stay in that house without any electricity, Maggie. And what in the name of heaven was all that display of nerves about in the restaurant last night. You acted very peculiarly.”

  Maggie knew she was purposely putting the shoe on the other foot, trying to put the responsibility for what had happened on Maggie’s reliable shoulders.

  It worked.

  “I don’t know what got into me yesterday,” Maggie apologized. “I suppose it was a combination of things...the long trip, leaving everyone behind, the excitement of the house.”

  It was as if Rebecca hadn’t heard or wasn’t listening. “I’m going to take a shower. Be with you in a minute.” She disappeared into the white tiled bathroom.

  Maggie sat down on the side of the bed and started to undo her clothing. She could still smell the odor of smoke that clung to her black dress. She wished she’d never left the house. She could have sent Sophie into town to fetch other bags, to attend to whatever else needed to be done. The morning there had been bright and brilliant and glorious; the morning here was far from any of that.

  She stripped out of her clothes and selected a fresh, clean black dress from her suitcase. She refused to let any of it affect her. She’d make the house livable; then it would be her refuge where she would stay and wait for Rod.

  * * * *

  Rebecca came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and, discarding it, began to slip into her underthings Maggie couldn’t help but see the marks on her skin, the evidence of her night with David. A tiny prick of resentment gnawed at her. At first sight David McCloud had looked very much like Rod. The thought disturbed her.

  “I paid Mrs. Johnston,” Maggie commented, for want of something to take her mind off her thoughts. “I have a shopping list and I’ll have to find the electric company so they can be told to turn on the power. Then there are our trunks to be sent for.” Maggie watched Rebecca move slowly about the room. “Do you want to come with me or shall I pick you up later?”

  “I’ll come with you, of course,” Rebecca said. She gave Maggie a look of pure innocence as though surprised at the question.

  “Well, hurry up then. There’s a lot to be done. I smashed one of the upstairs windows last night,” she said, keeping a steady eye on Rebecca to see what her reaction would be.

  There was no reaction. “Smashed a window, did you say? How did you manage to do that?”

  “There was a fire in my room.”

  “A fire?” Rebecca turned and glanced at her but her eyes moved away immediately.

  “Someone set fire to my room.”

  Rebecca looked at her. This time her eyes didn’t slip away. “Set fire to the room? You mean that room you slept in last night?”

  Maggie nodded gravely.

  Rebecca continued to look at her but Maggie thought the look was merely an affectation.

  “You say someone set fire to it...like on purpose?”

  “That’s precisely what I mean.”

  To Maggie’s surprise Rebecca grinned. “Surely you don’t mean that? Surely it was an accident of some kind.”

  “It was no accident. I put the candelabrum on the bureau. Someone moved it to the floor directly beneath the draperies beside the bed where I was asleep.”

  “But who? Why?” Rebecca turned away and studied herself in the mirror. “Really, Maggie, are you sure you didn’t put the candles down on the night table and knock it over in your sleep? I find it hard to believe that anyone would try to burn you up. I can understand why they might want to burn that old barn to the ground, but certainly not with you inside it.” She started to brush her hair and dust herself with powder.

  On the tip of Maggie’s tongue was the question, You didn’t set fire to the drapes, did you, Rebecca? But she just could not bring herself to ask. This was her little sister. Even after what had happened so long ago she could not bring herself to suspect Rebecca of so horrible an act. She wished now that she hadn’t tried to make an issue of it. She’d opened Pandora’s box, and she was sorry. She wanted to slam shut the lid.

  “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I did move the candelabrum next to the bed without realizing it.”

  Rebecca applied her lipstick with great care, making ugly little faces at herself as she did so. “I have a feeling about that old place,” she said. She glanced at Maggie through the mirror. “I know, I know. I won’t go into it, Maggie, but maybe old Mrs. Johnston was right. Your first night there and there’s a fire that almost killed you. Maybe that’s some kind of evil omen.”

  “It isn’t the house I have to be afraid of,” Maggie said apprehensively.

  “What then?”

  “The house didn’t set fire to itself; something living caused that fire.”

  “Oh, Maggie, you are being silly. It must have been an accident on your part.”

  “Yes, perhaps you’re right,” Maggie said.

  Rebecca gave her reflection an approving nod. Maggie was puzzled by how unconcerned Rebecca seemed. “Come on, Maggie. Let’s go take care of whatever has to be taken care of. I think I’ll even be glad to get moved into this house of ours just so I won’t have to sleep in this room again.” She picked up her suitcases and started for the door.

  Maggie felt like reminding her that she hadn’t slept in this room. But she let the thought pass.

  David McCloud was in the hall. When he saw them he stopped dead. “Maggie. Good morning.” Maggie saw the quick guarded look that passed between him and Rebecca. For a second or two Maggie thought he also looked very surprised, if not shocked, to see her standing there with Rebecca.

  Or had she imagined it?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  There was something about David McCloud’s expression that made Maggie suspicious. Or was it jealousy she felt? Or was it fear? She sometimes got emotions mixed up—like the time she’d found Rod and Rebecca in each other’s arms. Had she been jealous because Rod was interested in Rebecca, or had she been afraid she might lose both of them? Was she now feeling envious of Rebecca for having allowed herself to be seduced by this handsome man...this man who reminded her so much of Rod? Ridiculous, she told herself. Still, there was an uncomfortable prickling at the nape of her neck.

  “Rebecca and I have a lot to accomplish this morning, David. You’ll excuse us if we hurry on.”

  “But I thought I might accompany you and be of whatever service I can.” He reached out and took Rebecca’s suitcases from her. When he reached for Maggie’s she drew them away.

  “We can manage quite well by ourselves.” She thought that sounded a bit severe so she appended, “We’ve taken up enough of your valuable time as it is, David.”

  “I had intended showing you about the house.”

  “Oh, I doubt if that will be necessary. Sophie can show me what needs to be shown.” She saw Rebecca and David exchange furtive looks. Maggie knew her sister well enough to know that Rebecca was trying to tell him that Maggie knew all about last night. Why was he so dense as not to be able to grasp the meaning behind Rebecca’s glances?

  Men! David McCloud was nothing at all like her Rod. How could she ever have thought they resembled one another?

  “Please. I insist,” David said. “At least let me help you with your luggage. My day is free. I purposely arranged it so that I might be of help to you two.”

  She wanted to be rid of him. The best way, she decided, was to send him on errands that would remove him from her presence. Maggie smiled, looking as charming as possible. “You’re very sweet, David.” She swung her suitcases within reach. “You may put these in the car. And then if you would be so kind, we would appreciate your seeing about having th
e electricity turned on in the house. Also, I noticed a broken window in the upstairs bedroom. We’ll need a carpenter. I’m afraid the frame is smashed as well as the panes.”

  David frowned. “But there isn’t a broken window in the place. I’ve been very careful not to let anything like that go unrepaired.”

  “I broke it,” Maggie said flatly. She did not elaborate. She knew as soon as he and Rebecca were alone she’d tell him everything...if he didn’t know already. She saw that he was going to question her so she said quickly, “Accidents will happen. Naturally, I will pay whatever costs are incurred.”

  Maggie turned and started down the hall toward the steps that led to the first floor. She purposely left Rebecca and David to follow at a distance so that they might exchange their little confidences.

  She didn’t care about them. The water was clearing and she knew what position she would occupy in their little scheme of things. They would look upon her as a watchdog. The thought made her smile. They were so wrong. She would not try to keep them apart. On the contrary, she was pleased that they would be out of her hair, giving her free reign over the magnificent future that lay in store for her in Heather’s house...her house now.

  As they went down the stairs Maggie rummaged in her handbag and pulled out the receipts the freight-and-storage company had given her for their trunks. At the bottom of the stairs she turned, catching Rebecca and David with their heads bent close together, whispering as she knew they would.

  “If you could arrange for these to be sent for,” she said, handing the receipts to David, “I’d be most appreciative.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  Maggie pivoted and started out of the ugly white house. “Come along, Rebecca,” she said as she tossed a glance over her shoulder. Then she hesitated and turned back again. “Or would you prefer to accompany David this morning?”

  Rebecca blushed, looking guilty again. “No. Oh, no, Maggie. I’ll...I’ll come along with you...of course.”

  Maggie smiled at David to show her authority over her sister. “Put the cases on the back seat, David. We’ll see you later at the house, I presume?” She was treating them like little children, but their romantic interlude was not what really troubled her. They’d both been in the upstairs bedroom last night—Rebecca had admitted as much—and both had had the opportunity to move that candelabrum. David was a stranger to her, but she knew Rebecca and what she was capable of.

  As David piled the suitcases in the car Maggie got directions to the grocery store. She reminded David first about the electricity, then the trunks, then the man to fix the window. She felt like a schoolteacher assigning lessons. She enjoyed the authority. She felt so superior to Rebecca and David.

  Mrs. Johnston was peeking through the curtains, watching her ex-tenants depart. The old man in the wheelchair was sitting at the far end of the porch pretending to sleep, but Maggie saw his eyes peering at them from time to time.

  Maggie turned toward the window behind which Mrs. Johnston stood. She purposely raised her hand and waved after the curtain fell back into place. Maggie knew Mrs. Johnston was spying on them; even this gave Maggie the additional pleasure of feeling better than people who spied and snooped and sneaked about.

  She glanced toward the old man. “Good-bye, Mr. Johnston,” she said pleasantly, just to let him know she knew he wasn’t asleep. The old man didn’t answer.

  Before the morning ended the car was loaded up with bags and parcels and boxes of things Maggie bought. She and Rebecca spoke little during their shopping spree. With each item Maggie purchased, she saw that Rebecca looked at her more and more disapprovingly so she bought more than she intended just to show her sister that she had every intention of staying at Heather House for a very long time.

  Rebecca did not voice her disapproval until Maggie stopped at a furniture store and purchased a handsome and expensive high-fidelity unit encased in an extremely beautiful Spanish cabinet.

  “But we have a hi-fi in storage,” Rebecca said.

  “That’s from my old life; this is for my new one. Besides, the old one isn’t Spanish. It wouldn’t fit into the living-room decor,” Maggie told Rebecca.

  “But golly, Maggie, it’s so expensive.”

  Maggie merely shrugged her shoulders. “You spent some of your insurance money on the car and I said nothing, so kindly let me spend my money on what I want.”

  From the furniture store they found a little music shop and Maggie bought several record albums, the most important of which to her was a complete recording of Chopin nocturnes. It was the same recording she and Rod had cherished all their lives. It made her somehow feel closer to him.

  From the music shop they went to the bank, where Maggie arranged for a checking account. She also arranged for all her savings to be transferred from her old bank in the city.

  “I’ll want everything transferred here permanently,” Maggie told the bank’s manager.

  When he excused himself for a moment Rebecca leaned close and said, “Aren’t you going a little bit overboard? Why not leave your money where it’s always been? Besides, the First City Bank pays a higher interest.”

  “I obviously have no intention of ever returning to the city,” Maggie said. “I see no reason to separate myself from my money. However, I presume that you think differently in view of the fact that you are not making a similar transfer of funds.”

  “I’ll open up a checking account for the amount of traveler’s checks I brought. If I need more, Mr. Penticast at the First City Bank can arrange for it.”

  “Then you are planning on going back?”

  “Maybe not back,” Rebecca said, meeting Maggie’s steady gaze. “But I’m not all that convinced I’ll be staying here.”

  “And what does David have to say about you leaving your little love nest?”

  “Really, Maggie. You’re being perfectly dreadful.”

  Maggie again shrugged and folded her hands complacently in her lap. Her newly found independence had given her the courage to open a personal checking account, not a joint one with Rebecca as had been the custom in the past. Let Rebecca fend for herself, Maggie thought. It was about time she did.

  Rebecca, on the other hand, felt she was being punished for having spent the night in David’s apartment. She had noticed that Maggie did not offer to open up a joint checking account, which they had always had. She did not protest. This was Maggie’s way of showing her disapproval.

  Rebecca had lived out Maggie’s cool reproach in the past. After a few days things would change back again. Maggie would apologize for her harshness and things would be back to normal between them. Rebecca was prepared to ride out the storm. They’d been through things like this before. Someday she would be rid of Maggie’s childish moods, she thought.

  Someday.

  The bank manager shook their hands and told them how pleased he was that they would be living in Pinebrook. He walked them to the door and bowed them out.

  “Incidentally,” Maggie said to Rebecca when they were back in the car and heading toward Heather House, “when we see David McCloud next, remind me that I want to talk to him about my buying the place.”

  “Buying it? Oh, really, Maggie. Aren’t you being just a bit hasty? You don’t have the slightest idea of what Pinebrook and its people are like. How do you know you will want to live here? I realize you’re purposely trying to be a bit spiteful for what I did last night, but....”

  “What did you do last night, Rebecca?”

  “You know what I’m referring to,” Rebecca said a bit shyly.

  “What you do does not concern me,” Maggie said icily. “That is, of course, unless it involves me directly.”

  Rebecca gave her a wry look. “You’re being cute again, Maggie.” She sighed. “I can’t understand it. We always got along so well until we came here to this place. Ever since yesterday you’ve been acting like a different person.”

  “I’m no different today than I was yesterday. Perhaps it’s
just that I’m letting my feelings come out into the open for once.”

  Rebecca frowned at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before Maggie had a chance to say anything Rebecca added, “Are you saying you’ve felt this resentment toward me all these years, Maggie?”

  Maggie could feel Rebecca’s eyes boring into her profile. “No, of course not,” she lied, but she felt her hands tightening on the steering wheel. She had felt a resentment toward her sister and she was showing that resentment for the first time in her life. It almost felt good, although it made her slightly uneasy.

  “What then?” Rebecca persisted.

  Maggie sighed. “I think it’s about time we both started living our own lives. We’ve been wrapped up in each other’s affairs so tightly that we don’t know which of us is which.”

  Rebecca remembered something similar that David had said the previous night. She sat mulling it over in her mind.

  They drove in silence for awhile. Then Maggie said, “Look, Rebecca,” as she turned and gave her sister a quick smile, “I know you don’t particularly like Heather House. I do. I like it very much. I want to live in it forever. I won’t stand in your way if you choose to leave me here in Pinebrook. I won’t be hurt or resent you for it. I just want us both to be happy. I believe I’ve found what will make me the happiest. Rod will come....”

  “Rod,” Rebecca said quickly...too quickly. She sat forward in the seat.

  “Of course,” Maggie answered casually. She continued her sentence. “Rod will come and we’ll make Heather House one of the most beautiful places in the world.”

  Rebecca was staring at her sister. She found herself frowning. She wondered if there was any possibility that Maggie was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

  Maggie glanced at Rebecca again and she smiled. “I see you are not going to try to convince me that Rod and George are dead.” She sighed. “George may be, but I’m sure Rod is not.”

  Rebecca said nothing.

  “I take by your silence that you think I might be right.”