The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1) (10 page)

It was like sliding into the summer night - snug, warm, and all-encompassing. She laid her head back on the cool porcelain and stared at the universe above. The constellations were captivating, mesmerizing; a sequence of design and depth of color she could spend days peering into.
I’ll have plenty of time for that.
Closing her eyes and sinking lower into the water, she let her mind float. It went to yesterday’s medical appointment. Excitement tingled through her and quick on its heels, nipping like an untrained Chihuahua, was Momma’s stern voice:
Real ladies don’t entertain immoral thoughts. They use their bodies for reproduction only!
She groaned; she’d never understood why her mother thought sexuality was so dirty, but that didn’t help Belinda think it was clean.
You’ve done enough damage already, Momma. Be quiet.

She reached over the lip of the tub and felt around for Dr. Akin’s prescription dilators. She thought of the physician’s big, warm hands as she fingered the instruments in search of the smallest one.
 

The man in the white coat behind the counter at Devilswood Pharmacy had told her - with a suggestive sparkle of the eye and a vulgar glint of teeth - that the devices were waterproof. She brought the smallest dilator under the water and stroked it against her abdomen as her thoughts alternated between Dr. Akin’s hands, and Eric Manning’s slate-blue eyes.
 

Belinda!
Momma’s imaginary voice was shrill.
It’s a sin! A sin!

She touched the hard plastic peak of the dilator to one her nipples and shuddered a little, then brought it down lower, lower, till its tip rested at the cleft of her sex. She pressed down. An electric shiver of pleasure rippled through her.

Followed by a cold chill.

Suddenly, the room was icy. Belinda sat up, goosebumps prickling her skin, the dilator forgotten. She placed a hand on the lip of the tub. It was like touching an ice chest. “Oh my God.” Her whisper was a plume of frost. The water lost its heat - not gradually, but as if a bucket of ice had been emptied into it.

Overhead, the lights flickered once, twice.
 

She rose, grabbed her towel and stepped onto the rug. A wave of dizziness overtook her and she swayed, balancing against the icy porcelain. A high-pitched hum, like a swarm of mosquitoes, buzzed in her head.
 

Behind that, a strange voice called her name.
Belinda …

She wrapped the robe tighter around herself and knotted the tie. “Who’s there?” This was not either of the voices from last night’s dream.

Belinda … I see you …

Panic pressed down on her. Her breath came quick and raspy. A rubber band tightened around her lungs. “Please,” she whispered, “leave me alone.”

Laughter, soft and male, echoed around her as the lights flickered again.

She felt as if the room were spinning.

Belinda watched in horrified shock as the robe’s tie began to come undone. She gasped and swatted at something as cold as death moving near her waist.

Her cell phone jangled with her mother’s shattering-glass ringtone and Belinda nearly screamed, then reached for it with quaking hands. “Hello!” Her tongue was thick, her lips tingling as she broke from the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She was surprised and relieved by the warmth of her bedroom.

“Well,
there
you are!” The voice on the other end was clipped, out of breath and full of judgment, but Belinda had never been so glad to hear it in all her life. “I’ve been having palpitations for a
week
!” Belinda could almost see her mother now - fanning her bosom with a pudgy hand, curlers in her dark hair, pacing through the dusty cluttered living room in her slippers and size 26 flower print housedress.
 

To her own surprise, Belinda smiled. “I’ve been away three days, Momma.”

“I know,” said Rhonda Moorland. “And do you know
how
I know? I’ll tell you this much, it certainly isn’t because
you
, my
only
daughter, had the courtesy to call and let me know. No, I heard this from-”

“Randi, I’m sure-” Belinda knew where her mother had been getting her information.

“Randi Tucker! She says you’ve taken some job
outside
the city-”

“Bakerton isn’t the world, Momma-”

“-in
Devilswood,
of all places, where some rich
madman
has hired you to mother his children while he plays with dead bodies-”

“He runs a memorial company and I’m not-”

“Do you know
why
they call it
Devilswood
, Belinda? Did you
ever
hear about all the
satanic
murders there?”

Belinda sighed and sat at the edge of her bed.

“They found dead children there!
Children
! They’d been sacrificed! To the devil! Satan
himself
!”

“You’re just saying that because of its name.”

Rhonda Moorland gasped. “It’s true! Would your own mother
lie
to you? Those rich people have built a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah on the blood of innocent children!
Children
!”

“Calm down, Momma. You’re going to have an attack.”

“You’re walking on
dead children, Belinda! Dead
babies
!”

“Are you seriously saying this to me? I’ve taken a job as governess on a beautiful estate. There’s nothing evil about it.”

“Nothing evil? A rich man who makes his money off the
dead
? A woman who’s paid to mother someone else’s children? Not
evil
? I think
not
!”

“I remember you dating the undertaker, Mr. Venezia. He made his money off the dead, didn’t he?”

“Belinda! You leave John
out
of this! He’s a good Christian and you know it!” She paused, sucking air. “I’m having palpitations! My heart’s not strong enough to take this. You
know
that, Belinda. Are you trying to kill me?”

Belinda was silent a moment while her mother feigned some sobs. “Why don’t you start eating right like Dr. Pearce has been telling you for ten years?”

“Don’t you tell
me
what to do, young lady! For
your
information, I haven’t had
anything
but salad for lunch in
months
!”

“Okay, if you say so, but maybe you should stop putting American cheese and chocolate sauce on your salads. That might help.” Belinda paused. “For your information, Momma, I’m not mothering anyone’s children. I’m a governess. That means I’ll be-”

“I
know
what a governess is! It’s a fancy word for
mistress
!”

“I’ll be educating the children.”

“Oh,
God
on Your golden throne,
help
me! My arm feels funny!”

Belinda heard the spray sound of aerosol cheese being squirted into her mother’s mouth. It was Momma’s version of vodka. “I’ll be using my teaching degree. I thought that would make you happy.”
 

“But, but… but you live
there. With a
man
.”

“It’s not like he and I are keeping house
together.”

“My Holy Host
,
Belinda! Have I raised you to be
so
blind? You’re living in
sin
and you don’t even
know
it!” She broke into more fake sobs. “Is he even
Christian?

“I don’t know.”

After a series of incredulous, shocked tongue-clucks and gasps, Mother continued. “You don’t
know
? You don’t
know!
Oh, God on Your golden throne, my
heart!”

“Your heart is fine, Momma. Remember, Dr. Pearce said so.”

“You shut your filthy,
lying
mouth, young lady. I know a thing or two about this world and I
certainly
know when I’m having chest pains! Dr. Pearce is a fraud. A
fraud
!”

Belinda held the phone away from her ear. Dr. Pearce was no more a fraud than any other physician her mother had visited. ‘Fraud’
was the title she awarded to any professional who didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear.

“Okay,” said Belinda. “I’m sorry. Please calm down. You’re overreacting.”


Overreacting
? Is
that
what you say to the woman who carried you in her womb for
nine and
a half
torturous months? Is that what you say to the woman who- oh, God on Your golden throne, I’m palpitating!” She took another noisy snort of EZ Cheese.

“It’s a job. And a good one. You don’t need to worry. And I
am
happy.”

The silence drew out long and loaded. Belinda wasn’t sure what this meant. Then her mother spoke, sounding calm and self-righteous. “Well, I’m glad
you’re
happy. That’s
just wonderful. I guess I’ll just tell the women at church that my daughter has taken up with some rich godless necrophiliac and is living with him -
unmarried
- up in his castle where they can
look down on the rest of us. Yes, I guess that’s what I’ll have to say. Just as long as
you’re
happy, dear.”

“It isn’t like that. And you don’t have to say anything to anyone. It isn’t anyone’s busi-”

“I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you? To live however you want without
ever
having to explain yourself? Well, I’m afraid that’s not how it works in the
real
world, Belinda. Here on planet Earth
we have to take
accountability
for our actions. That means we have to explain ourselves - and since you don’t have the time to clean up this mess,
I’ll
do it. As usual!”

There was a final rasping squirt of canned cheese before her mother ended the call. Belinda replaced the phone on the nightstand. She took a slow breath to calm her nerves, but realized she wasn’t upset. The call had given her a reprieve from her anxiety over what had happened in the bathroom. She glanced at the door and shivered, the fear returning.

Cordelia’s Inquiry

Cordelia Heller sat in her office just behind her parlor on the first floor. She had spent the past hour online, trying to find out anything she could concerning Belinda Moorland’s background, but was coming up empty handed. Her fingernails clicked on the black lacquered desk. There was a hesitant knock on the door. “Come,” she said, closing her laptop.
 

Cordelia’s lead maid, Justine Chambers, opened the door. “Mrs. Heller?”

Cordelia looked at the busty blonde. “What do you need?”

“There’s a man here to see you.” Her voice was soft, her eyes busy. “A very handsome young man by the name of Jeffrey Johnson.” The girl licked her ruby lips, her eyes inquisitive.

“Then why don’t you bring him to me, Miss Chambers? I’m sure he has more important things to do than wait for you to see him in.”

Justine looked disappointed. “Yes, Mrs. Heller. I’ll fetch him now.”

“Please, do. And Miss Chambers,” she added before the girl closed the door.
 

“Yes?”

“Our guests are not dog toys. We do not
fetch
them. Understood?”

“Yes, Mrs. Heller.”
 

Cordelia smiled. “Now run along before you waste any more of the good doctor’s time.”

The maid disappeared and within moments returned with Jeffrey Johnson.

“Please,” said Cordelia, when they were alone. “Sit.”

He took a seat in the low chair opposite her and she stood, moving out from behind the desk, gazing down at him. She enjoyed the view a moment. The close-cropped dark hair, the mocha-colored skin.

His eyes, the color of chocolate, followed her as she sat on the desk directly in front of him. He swallowed as she crossed her legs in a move that would make Sharon Stone jealous. “Miss Moorland didn’t see you arrive, did she?”

He shook his head.

“Good.” Mrs. Heller had timed his visit to coincide with the family breakfast. Still, you couldn’t be too careful. “So tell me,
Doctor.”
She cocked a brow and gave him a sardonic smile. “How did our new governess’s physical exam go yesterday?”

Jeffrey cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m not sure.”

She tipped her head. “You aren’t sure? Please,” she said, “elaborate.”

“Well, he got her to go along with having me in the room. We gave her a breast exam, a pelvic, and then he asked me to leave.”

There was something the man was holding back. “How did the exam go?”

“The doctor was, uh, very thorough.” He hooked a finger into his collar and tugged it.

“How thorough?”

His brown eyes regarded her as his voice dropped a few notes. “
Too
thorough.”

Cordelia’s jaw flexed. “And exactly when did he ask you to leave?”

“Right after the pelvic. He said he was going to give her a rectal.”

A calm, contained anger swelled in her solar plexus. “And how did the girl appear when she left?”

He looked away. “She looked fine.” Then his gaze touched hers. “A little too fine, I think.
Pleased
is the word that comes to mind.”
 

She considered this a long moment. Jeffrey, although a new initiate, had demonstrated his loyalty. She believed him. “I see.” She set her jaw. “I’ll make sure it gets taken care of.”

“What about-”

“He’ll never know you aren’t just an intern on rotation. I already told you that. Besides, he can’t hurt you.” She leaned in, tracing a fingertip along the edge of his jaw. “You aren’t afraid of
Dr. Dickey
, now, are you?” She tossed her head back and laughed.

“No. I just want to be certain we’re safe.”

“We’re safe.” She let her eyes fall to the man’s throat, and travel down his chest, over his flat abdomen, to the impressive bulge between his legs. “You just leave the worrying to me. Dr. Akin is oblivious, not that it matters.” And apparently, he wasn’t so trustworthy anymore, either.
I knew he was losing his touch.
“I can handle anything he might throw our way.”

Jeffrey nodded and watched as she uncrossed, then recrossed, her legs.

Her anger seethed, powerful enough that she felt a slight stuttering in her fingertips as she reached up and undid the top button of her black blouse. “I’m not frightened, Jeffrey, I’m angry. And you know how I deal with anger.” She hitched her skirt up and opened her legs, giving the young physician a look at what she wore beneath. Nothing.

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