Her Deadly Inheritance Page 10

  Clay couldn’t wait to hear her answer.

  “I tiptoed to the door and listened,” she said, “hoping Nona would go away. She said she wouldn’t leave until I opened the door. So I let her in. She stood there in sweats with her hair sticking out in wisps.”

  Tia laughed and Jill chuckled too. “I’d never seen her like that before. I checked my clock, hoping she would take the hint and go away. Instead, she babbled on about how she had been praying and she knew she had to find me right away.”

  Carver rolled his eyes. “A religious nut case.”

  Jill nodded. “I thought so, too. So I said, ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me God sent you.’ She said she knew I didn’t want to hear that, and she was right. Then she saw the knife. ‘Oh, Jill, don’t,’ she said, ‘Please let me help you.’”

  “I told Nona she couldn’t help me, but I still let her take the knife from my hand. Maybe she’d think the crisis was over and go away. She didn’t. She told me I was right. She couldn’t help me, but she knew Someone who could.”

  Carver snorted again and resumed eating.

  Jill went on. “Nona didn’t leave me alone for a moment. We talked for hours. Around morning light, we knelt in my room, and I turned my life over to Jesus.”

  Tia rolled her eyes. “Oh, right! Just like that.”

  “Not exactly,” Jill said. “For two years, Nona handled some pretty sticky problems with prayer and the Word. You know, the Bible.”

  “I’m not stupid!” Tia snapped.

  “I never thought you were,” Jill said. “The point is, what I observed in Nona’s life gave me hope for a better life with Jesus and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  If Jill expected a hallelujah from her family, it didn’t come, and her obvious disappointment cut Clay to the quick.

  Mrs. Bradwell smirked and turned to her husband. “Drew, you remember Kitty Wentworth, don’t you?”

  Bradwell wrinkled his forehead.

  “You know, my college roommate. She’s coming to help with Tia’s party and bringing her son and his friends. Suitable young men to round out the guest list.” She smiled at her daughter. “You are so fortunate, Tia. The Wentworths are one of the finest families out East.”

  The girl’s lips quivered. “Mom, I told you. No party.”

  The Bradwells were back to bickering, and Clay had about all he could take. It was time he left. How did Jill cope with this chaos?

  “The party is all set so let’s not go over all this again,” Tia’s mother said.

  Tears formed in the girl’s eyes. “Dad, don’t make me do this.”

  Mrs. Bradwell sat ramrod straight, frowning. “Drew, tell your daughter to be reasonable.”

  Bradwell spoke gently. “It’s only a party, Tia.”

  The stricken girl’s face reddened and she jumped up. “Only a party? You know it’s more than that! Go ahead if you want to, but I won’t have a thing to do with it! I won’t—”

  Her eyes widened, and with a hoarse cry, she crumpled to the carpet.

  Chapter Ten

  Jill dropped to the floor beside Tia as her cousin’s body stiffened. “Somebody do something!”

  Within moments, Uncle Drew and Carver yanked the dining chairs away from the girl and searched the area—for what? Jill wasn’t sure. Clay rounded the other end of the table, stripping off his suit jacket. He folded it and knelt beside Tia.

  Cool as ever, Lenore rose from her chair and checked her watch as Elma rushed into the room. Lenore held out her hand. “My notebook please.”

  They all seemed to know the drill. Each worked with calm determination.

  Clay placed his jacket beneath Tia’s head like a pillow and gently turned the girl on her side.

  “Excellent, Merrick.” Lenore nodded her approval. “You have experience.”

  “A close friend,” he said, his face grim.

  Jill couldn’t help but stare at him, still not sure what was going on.

  Touching his jacket, he lowered his voice. “It protects her head and keeps her airway clear during the seizure.”

  Seizure?

  Tia’s body began to jerk, and Jill instinctively reached out.

  “Don’t touch her,” Lenore warned.

  Jill snatched her hand back. “She’s turning blue!”

  Incredible! As if Tia’s seizure were nothing unusual, her aunt stood there writing something in the small leather book the maid had given her. She made no attempt to touch her daughter, no attempt to reassure or comfort her.

  Anger burned in Jill’s heart. Growing up, she might not have had a father, but she had been blessed with a far more loving mother than her cousin.

  Clay took Jill’s hand, enclosing it in the warmth of his own. “She’ll be all right,” he said, helping her up. “We’ve done all we can for her comfort and safety. Now we stand back and give her room.”

  Jill allowed him to lead her a few feet away to observe beside Uncle Drew and Carver. Her uncle touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jill. Tia’s seizures only last about two minutes. See? The muscle spasms are beginning to slow. She’s already starting to breathe normally.”

  Tia’s jerking slowed to a stop. She groaned and opened glazed eyes as Uncle Drew knelt beside her and gently took her hand. “You’re all right, Tia. You had another seizure, but you’re all right.”

  Observing Uncle Drew’s tender care of his daughter, Jill released a shuddering sigh. Clay squeezed her hand and released it.

  Lenore jotted a last note in her book. “Two minutes and two seconds.” She closed the book. “Elma, clear the table. We are done in here.”

  Jill’s attention slid back to Tia, who could hardly keep her eyes open.

  “So sleepy, Dad.”

  “I know.” Uncle Drew patted his daughter’s hand. “We’ll get you to your room. You’ll be fine after you rest.”

  “Don’t you dare lift her, Drew,” his wife snapped. “Your back is bad enough.” She looked around. “Carver?”

  Jill searched, too, but he was nowhere to be seen. How sad. A cold-hearted mother and a brother who couldn’t care less. Tia deserved better.

  Clay crouched beside her uncle. “Let me carry her.”

  Her uncle nodded and wiped his beaded forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief. “Thank you, Merrick.”

  Jill breathed a sigh of relief. Clay wore kindness like a garment and lifted her young cousin.

  Along with her aunt and uncle, Jill followed him up the stairs to Tia’s room.

  Her aunt moved efficiently, preparing Tia for bed and allowing Jill to help her. When they finished, Lenore turned toward the door.

  Jill couldn’t believe it. “You’re not leaving, are you?” Neither Mother nor Maggie would have abandoned her at a time like this.

  “Tia will be fine,” the girl’s mother said, opening the door. “We will check on her every half hour. Are you coming?”

  Jill clamped her mouth shut and refused to move.

  Lenore huffed. “She won’t know you’re here.”

  “I’d rather stay if you don’t mind.” Even if her aunt did mind, Jill had no intention of leaving.

  “Do as you please.” Lenore moved into the hall and paused beside her husband. “Drew, tell her what she needs to know, then join me downstairs.”

  How could a mother be so cold? Didn’t her aunt realize she still had precious time to spend with her daughter? Time she would never get back. Mother and daughter time she might one day regret losing.

  As—too late—Jill did now.

  Uncle Drew bent over Tia and stroked his daughter’s hair as he gazed on her sleeping face. “My sweet girl.”

  He turned to Jill. “I wish I could stay.” He brushed the back of his fingers over his daughter’s pale cheek. “Wake Tia every half hour to make sure she’s all right. She’ll go back to sleep.” He turned to leave.

  “You’re not staying either?”

  “Jill, when you observe my wife, you see a strong woman. The truth i
s she’s more fragile than our daughter right now.”

  The door clicked softly as he left.

  Clay pulled back from crouching inside the fireplace in Jill’s room. After reexamining the throat, damper, smoke shelf and part of the smoke chamber above, he had no doubt.

  Nothing was wrong with it. Someone had rigged last night’s accident. That someone had already removed the evidence.

  While he washed the soot from his hands in the adjoining bathroom, Jill’s door opened. He grabbed a hand towel and peered into the room. A bedspread snapped above the sheets.

  He entered on the housekeeper’s blind side. “Mrs. Fenton.”

  She jumped and put her hands to her heart, breathing hard. “Mr. Merrick!” The bedspread floated down askew. “What can I do for you?”

  “Do you know who cleaned the fireplace?”

  She pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow. “Why, Mr. Bradwell and his son took care of it last night. I finished what cleaning I could do this morning.”

  “Did you notice anyone else come up here yesterday?”

  “Other than Miss Shepherd, only the movers who brought furniture to the attic.”

  He studied her clear-eyed gaze. If she was lying, she was good at it.

  “Most of the time, Mrs. Bradwell kept me busy,” she said. “She didn’t leave any of us a moment’s rest.”

  Clay left the room, rubbing the back of his neck. Someone had tampered with the fireplace. For all he knew, the whole family was in on it, but he suspected otherwise.

  He trotted down the stairs to the second floor and paused outside the half-open door to the tower room. Dim lamplight picked out the golden highlights of Jill’s hair as she rested on a chaise lounge, reading.

  He moved toward her and then stopped. Windtop’s walls had ears. What he had to say, no one but Jill should hear. Someone had viciously taken her mother from Windtop. The threat had now passed to Jill, and it pained him to realize he couldn’t protect her every moment.

  From Tia’s room, Jill glanced through the open door into the hall. Was it her imagination, or had someone been observing her from its shadows? But nothing moved out there.

  She shifted her gaze to Tia. Every half hour, she had awakened the girl. In between, she passed the time by reading her Bible, fascinated by its words and the comfort they gave her.

  Resting the book on her chest, she closed her eyes. In this house, she could use every scrap of comfort offered. Both Clay and Maggie seemed to think she was in danger. Were they right? If so, would God continue to watch her back as he had last night?

  Smiling, she recalled how he had sent Clay just in time.

  She stretched out her arms and then looked about the room. It no longer resembled the one she knew while growing up. Lenore had transformed it into a rose garden, but new decorations couldn’t block the memories embedded in Windtop, including her childhood memories of Lenore doting on Carver and the bewildered hurt in Tia’s toddler eyes.

  Tia must hunger to know her mother’s love as much as Jill hungered to know her unknown father’s. Both dreams seemed so hopeless.

  But at least, Lord, I have your love to fill the aching void. If only Tia knew your love too.

  The clock on the dressing table indicated it was time to wake her cousin again. She went to the girl’s side and shook her gently. When Tia didn’t respond, Jill’s heart sped up. She shook the girl harder.

  Tia groaned and turned her head heavily. Her eyelids fluttered as if she could hardly open them. When at last her gaze focused on Jill, a groggy surprise registered. “J-Jill, why …?” Her words were labored and slurred.

  Jill adjusted the girl’s summer blanket. “I’m staying until you feel better, Tia.”

  Her eyebrows lifted above barely focusing eyes. “Sure?”

  “Yes. Now go back to sleep.”

  Tia closed her eyes and soon was sound asleep again.

  A soft knocking at the door alerted Jill before Mrs. Fenton entered. “How’s she doing?”

  “All right, I think.”

  The housekeeper set a tray on the table beside the chaise lounge. “You hafta be hungry by now. Oh, and your room upstairs is clean. Your kitten’s sleeping on his bed in the bathroom. I changed the litter and filled his bowls.”

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. Fenton. You’re so kind.”

  “Not all in this house thinks so.” She bobbed her head and scooted out.

  The evening wore on as Jill continued her vigil. How lost Tia looked in that big bed.

  Not long before midnight, Uncle Drew entered the room. “Lenore’s asleep,” he said before brushing a kiss on his daughter’s forehead.

  Jill looked on, longing to know such fatherly love.

  Uncle Drew pulled out the dressing table bench and sat near the chaise lounge. “I know I said it before, but thank you for staying with Tia.”

  “She’s been sleeping, just as Lenore said,” Jill admitted.

  He glanced at the Bible on her lap, a wan smile on his lips. “I’ve often wanted to stay with Tia, but Lenore wouldn’t hear of it.”

  Jill snorted. “I’m sure!”

  “Don’t be hard on your aunt, Jill. She made a lot of mistakes with you and your mother, but she’s also given Tia excellent care since her epilepsy began.”

  I should hope so. “When did Tia have her first seizure?”

  “About three years ago. Not long after you left.”

  That’s why she hadn’t known. “So how did it happen?”

  Uncle Drew’s round face showed signs of fatigue. “Tia and I were in the park, talking about her last year in middle school. All of a sudden, she collapsed and went into a seizure. It scared me half to death. I rushed her to the hospital, calling Lenore as I drove. The minute the doctors told us what we were dealing with, she threw herself into becoming an expert on Tia’s care.”

  “Really?” Maybe her aunt wasn’t as cold about her daughter as she seemed.

  “At first, Tia had several seizures a day,” Uncle Drew continued. “Now, they only occur occasionally.”

  Hope rose in Jill’s heart. “So she’s getting better?”

  He shook his head. “She’ll be on medication the rest of her life. Missing a dose even for a few hours could put her in a non-stop seizure or a coma.”

  Jill sat up sharply. “Does anyone know what causes her seizures?”

  “Doctors tell us her brain’s electrical system passes too much energy through its cells. The sudden overload triggers a seizure.”

  “Awful!”

  “Yes, but what makes Tia’s situation harder is coping with people who act as if epilepsy is contagious. It isn’t. One in every hundred people has it. Some don’t even know. By the way, you handled yourself very well for a first-time helper.”

  Jill sighed. “I‘m afraid I just made Lenore angry.”

  “Lenore is angry with anyone who doesn’t have to live with this problem. You saw how unpleasant Tia can become before a seizure, and when she has one, most people shrink back. You didn’t. You did well.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.” How could she? She didn’t know what to do.

  “You cared. You cooperated. That’s more than most.”

  “She’s my cousin.”

  “Yes, of course.” He glanced over to the bed where Tia slept. “You know, as much as I wish Tia were free of this thing, I do see a positive side.”

  Jill couldn’t imagine what that might be.

  “She gets more attention from her mother. Lenore handles all of her medical regimens and takes her to her doctor appointments.”

  Jill quashed a smirk. Taken by itself, not exactly her idea of great mother love, but at least her aunt didn’t ignore Tia altogether.

  One question still troubled her. “Does anyone know what started Tia’s epilepsy?”

  Her uncle nodded. “We think we do. You were very young, so I’m not sure you remember, but Lenore fell at Windtop when she was pregnant. Tia’s doctors think our baby girl suffered brain da
mage in the womb then. It showed up as epilepsy when she entered puberty.”

  He lapsed into a faraway look. “The truth is, Lenore’s fall was my fault. If I hadn’t argued with her, none of this would have happened to our baby girl.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “But it is. Your aunt was so blind with anger she missed the first step and fell down the stairs. We’re lucky both she and Tia survived.” He rubbed his face with both of his hands and then looked up. “Well, Jill, you’re tired. You’ve been here long enough. You’d better go to bed and get some rest. I’ll stay with Tia.”

  When her uncle insisted, Jill bid him good night.

  Up in her room, she lay in bed, haunted by his sad story. As she stared into the darkness, an unbidden memory surfaced along with Maggie’s words. If you stay, trust no one. Especially that one who tried to end her baby’s life by falling down the stairs.

  Jill sucked in a staggering breath.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jill stirred in her bed and groaned before sinking back into a dream that dragged her through yet another loop. Seven years old, she hid in a shadowed corner on the padded bench just inside Windtop’s main door. Swinging her feet, she clutched her doll for comfort. The muffled screams upstairs behind closed doors had frightened her.

  Her aunt’s and uncle’s fight was really bad this time. She hummed to drown out the noise. A door banged open on the second floor, and she stopped humming.

  “I’ll never forgive you!” her aunt screamed. “Never!”

  Jill snatched up her feet and wriggled into the deepest shadows, her heart pounding in her thin chest. She blinked and looked up.

  Her aunt hesitated at the head of the stairs. One hand touched her swollen belly while her face turned red and her eyes scary. A slight smile curved her lips.

  Jill’s throat went dry. She tried not to breathe. At any moment, as in dream after sickening dream this night, her aunt would deliberately miss that first step and tumble down the stairs to the first landing.

  Only this time, Lenore’s piercing gaze pinned her. She cried out and turned away.

  Silence.

  When she dared to look again, her mother stood at the second-floor railing, smiling at her with such tenderness.