“But why did she even want to?” Cassie asked, her voice quavering. “If she didn’t care enough about me even to watch me on the beach, why did she want to take me with her?”
Keith shook his head helplessly. “It wasn’t you, honey. It was never you. She just didn’t want me to have you. She knew how much I loved you. And she knew how much it hurt me when she took you.”
“And she never told you what happened?” Cassie asked, her disbelief apparent. “She never told you I almost drowned in the quicksand?”
“She couldn’t,” Keith replied bitterly. “She knew if she did, I’d have wanted to know how you got lost in the first place. And if I’d found that out, she never would have been able to take you away from me.” He turned to Eric, who was sitting silently at the table. “I don’t know what to say to you either. All those years …”
Eric spoke in a nearly toneless voice. “Maybe Miranda shouldn’t have saved us. Maybe she should have just let us drown. Nobody cared. Nobody at all.”
“That’s not true—” Keith started to protest, then changed his mind. It was the children who had lived through all those years, who had received the beatings, and who had lived without love. How could they believe that anybody had cared?
“What was she like?” he asked softly. “What was Miranda really like?”
“She was my friend,” Cassie replied. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered those few hours she’d spent with Miranda. “She listened to me. When I talked to her, she knew exactly how I felt. She knew how alone I was, and how different I was, and how much—” Her voice broke, but she forced herself to go on. “She knew how much I hurt.” She met her father’s eyes. “She wasn’t crazy, Daddy. She wasn’t crazy at all. She just didn’t have any friends, except Sumi and Kiska. That’s why she knew how I felt. She always felt the same way. And she never wanted to hurt anybody either. She told me that just because people didn’t understand me, it wasn’t any reason to hurt them.”
In her lap Sumi meowed softly, and Cassie gently scratched his ears. “That’s why she gave me Sumi,” she went on. “She wanted me to have a friend that really understood me.”
Keith felt a chill as he remembered what Rosemary had told him when he came home. “Understands you,” he said quietly. “You don’t really mean the cat understands what you say, do you?”
Cassie hesitated, then nodded. “He understands what I’m feeling, and he does what I want him to do. So does Kiska. That’s why he didn’t go after you. I made him stop.”
“But, honey, that’s crazy,” Keith began, then wished he could take back the words when he saw the pain in Cassie’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just—well, people can’t really do things like that.”
Cassie’s eyes met his unwaveringly. “Most people can’t,” she said. “But Miranda could, and I can too. The animals were all she had, and she left them to me.” She swallowed hard, then forced herself to go on. “That’s what I did to Mr. Simms. I—I sent Sumi after him. I didn’t really know I could, but …” She fell silent, watching her father fearfully.
Keith said nothing for several long minutes. If it was true, what did it mean? And was it really true? He had to know. “Show me,” he said at last.
Cassie blinked uncertainly. “H-how?”
“Make him attack me. If you can make him attack me, I’ll believe you. Then we’ll figure out what to do.”
Cassie glanced at Eric but said nothing. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Cassie whispered, looking back to her father.
“Make him attack me, then make him stop,” Keith pressed. “If I’m going to help you, I have to know what happened.”
Cassie stared at him for several seconds without speaking. Then her eyes closed.
She can’t do it, Keith thought. She thinks she can but—
In a sudden flash of movement Sumi hissed angrily and tensed in Cassie’s lap. As Keith stared in shock, the cat hurled himself toward him. A screech of fury roiled from his throat, and his lips curled back from his fangs. Keith threw up his hands to protect his face, but just before the cat struck him, he heard once more the single word that Cassie had spoken earlier on the porch.
“No!”
The shriek of attack died in Sumi’s throat, and he dropped lightly into Keith’s lap. His tail twitched once or twice, then he licked Keith’s hand and settled down, purring contentedly.
For a long time no one said anything. Then Cassie broke the silence.
“I didn’t kill Lisa, Daddy,” she said softly. “Really, I didn’t.”
Keith hesitated, then nodded. “I believe you, Punkin,” he said. “I believe you.”
Eric said nothing at all.
Rosemary was playing Chinese checkers with Jennifer on the floor of the den when the doorbell rang. She was tempted not to answer it.
All day, as the rumors had spread through the village, she’d seen a steady trickle of people passing by the house— people who didn’t live in the neighborhood and didn’t ordinarily go for walks along Alder Street. But today had been different, and finally Jennifer, looking curiously out the window, had asked what they were doing.
“They’re just looking, honey,” Rosemary had assured her. “I guess they just don’t have anything better to do.”
“Can I go out?” Jennifer had asked.
Rosemary shook her head, knowing all too well the sort of things Jennifer was likely to overhear on the streets that day. And so after Keith left, she’d settled down with Jennifer in the den, partly to keep the little girl entertained, but also, she knew, to keep her own mind off everything that had happened.
The bell rang again. “Aren’t you going to answer it?” Jennifer asked.
Rosemary sighed, and got stiffly to her feet. But when she opened the front door, she wished she’d followed her first impulse to pretend that nobody was home. Fred Chambers, his eyes red and puffy, glared angrily at her.
“It’s her fault!” he said, his voice trembling with a mixture of grief and bitter fury. “Everything was fine here until that crazy daughter of Keith’s showed up. And now look what’s happened! My daughter’s dead, Rosemary! Do you understand that? Dead! It wasn’t Ed Cavanaugh at all. It was Cassie! And she knew what she was doing too! From the minute she showed up at that dance all dressed up in Miranda’s clothes, she knew what she was doing! She’s as crazy as Miranda was!”
Rosemary stared at Fred Chambers, her heart pounding. “Stop it, Fred,” she said, struggling to keep her voice under control. “I know what’s happened, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But we don’t know that Cassie had anything to do with it. We don’t know!” she repeated, her voice taking on a note of desperation. “The cat might have been anyone’s,” she added, though she knew she didn’t believe her own words.
“Bullshit!” Fred Chambers exploded. “You think anyone’s going to believe that? Teri Bennett saw that cat go after Lisa just yesterday! And it went after Harold Simms, too, didn’t it? I don’t know what Lisa was doing out there, but we know it was Cassie who killed her. She’s doing something to us, and we all know it! She tried to kill Harold Simms, and she did kill my daughter. And if Templeton won’t do something about it, the rest of us will! She’s nuts!” He backed away a couple of steps, then wheeled around and charged off the porch. Halfway to the street he spun around to face Rosemary once more. “She’s crazy, Rosemary! She’s as crazy as Miranda was! She’s some kind of witch, and she ought to be locked up!” A moment later he slammed the door of his car and started the engine, his tires screeching as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. Rosemary, breathing hard, waited until the car had disappeared around the corner before she finally closed the door and returned to the den.
Jennifer, her face ashen, sat silently on the floor, staring at her.
“I don’t like him,” the little girl finally said. “I don’t like him saying bad things about Cassie.” She stood up and came to Rosemary, putting her arms around her mother and burying her face
in Rosemary’s skirt. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone. I know she wouldn’t.”
Rosemary reached down and stroked her daughter’s hair, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. But she couldn’t, for she knew that despite everything Keith had said, her questions about Cassie were as great as ever, and that deep in her soul she had no real argument with what Fred Chambers had said.
But maybe—just maybe—when Keith brought Cassie home, she would find out that she’d been wrong, that there was a rational explanation for everything that had happened.
But the day turned into night, and Keith didn’t come home.
It wasn’t the first time Laura Cavanaugh had spent the night alone in the house, but this time it was different. Always before, she’d spent the evening comfortably, doing exactly as she pleased, enjoying the brief respites from the constant tension of her husband’s drinking and violence. Even having Eric gone for a night had never bothered her, for she’d always known exactly where he was and when he’d be back.
But tonight was different. Eric would not be back, and she hadn’t the slightest idea of where he was. For a while she’d considered calling Gene Templeton, but in the end hadn’t been able to. Though she’d poured the whole story out to Rosemary Winslow, she was not yet ready to face anyone else with it—and certainly not the police chief. So she’d spent the evening drifting nervously around the house, starting one task or another, only to abandon it after a few minutes, unable to concentrate. Finally at nine o’clock she’d retreated to the bedroom—not the bedroom she had shared with Ed, but the guest room, where the memories were fewest.
She’d lain awake for hours, listening to the noises of the house. Until tonight she’d always found the soft creakings and groanings of its timbers reassuring. But tonight they sounded different to her, almost like living things going through some strange torture she could neither comprehend nor alleviate. And then, when finally she did drift into a fitful sleep, nightmares plagued her and she tossed and turned, twisting the sheets around her like a shroud.
Ed came to her dreams, but he had changed into the devil incarnate, determined to punish her for sins she could never hope to understand. And yet in the dreams she accepted her guilt, for why else was she being punished? And so she submitted willingly to the devil’s tortures and silently prayed for death to rescue her from her agony.
Finally she thought death was near, and opened her eyes to welcome it, only to find that blackness surrounded her.
She lay still, waiting for the next sting of the whip or burn of the coals the devil had placed against her flesh, but it didn’t come.
Slowly Laura realized that she had awakened and the dream was over. But her body, clammy with sweat, still shivered with the terror of the dream, and she tried to gather a blanket around her.
As she reached for the blanket she saw the cat perched on the sill of the open window, a dark silhouette against the pale silver of the moonlit night. Its eyes glowed a golden yellow in the darkness, and Laura had an eerie sensation that it was grinning at her, its lips curled back from teeth that emerged as pointed fangs from bloody gums. She gasped in sudden fear and drew back, clutching the blanket defensively to her breast.
The cat leaped nimbly from the windowsill and disappeared into a dark corner of the room. A moment later its yellow eyes flashed out at her from the shadows.
Slowly the cat began to creep nearer.…
The moon was beginning to drop toward the horizon when Sumi silently slipped through the branches of the tree then darted invisibly through the long shadows of the night. In only a few seconds he was back in the tree next to the Winslows’ house and slithering once more through a window. When he leaped onto the bed and snuggled close to the warmth of the body beneath the quilt, his claws were well-sheathed and he was nothing more than a soft and comforting presence. Nothing was left of the golden-eyed demon that had stared accusingly at Laura Cavanaugh, silently demanding that she obey his will.
“Did you do it, Sumi?” the sleepy voice asked. “Did you do what I wanted you to?”
As if in response, Sumi began to purr.
Chapter 26
Jennifer stirred, rolled over, then opened her eyes. The first light of dawn was glimmering outside, and she started to get up when she realized that something was wrong.
This wasn’t her room.
And then, slowly, she remembered.
Sometime during the night her father had come in, gently lifted her out of bed, and carried her into her parents’ bedroom. Then he’d tucked her in, kissed her, and told her that Eric was going to be sleeping in her room tonight.
Jennifer stayed awake as long as she could, trying to hear everything that was being said downstairs, until at last sleep overtook her.
But she was awake now, with her mother beside her and her father on the other side of the bed. Being careful not to waken her parents, she slipped out of the bed and crept out of the room and down the hall to Cassie’s room.
Opening the door, she silently slid inside, then went over to Cassie’s bed and gazed curiously at her sleeping halfsister.
She puzzled over the words she’d heard Mr. Chambers saying yesterday evening, and tried to make sense out of them. But they still didn’t seem right to her.
Cassie couldn’t be a witch, could she? Witches, if they were real at all—and most of her friends thought they were—were old and ugly, with horrid, hooked noses and deep wrinkles all over their faces.
Cassie wasn’t like that at all.
In fact Cassie was the nicest person in the whole world. She’d let Jen keep her newly decorated room, and stuck up for her when her mother had gotten mad at her, and hadn’t even been angry when Jennifer had followed her that day.
So Mr. Chambers must be wrong.
She poked at Cassie, but nothing happened. She poked at her again, and Cassie rolled over, stretched, then opened her eyes.
“Hi,” Cassie said, then frowned uncertainly. “What time is it?”
“Almost six,” Jennifer pronounced, climbing onto the bed and regarding Cassie with serious eyes. “Can I tell you something without you thinking I’m a tattletale?”
Cassie nodded solemnly. “What is it?”
“Mr. Chambers was here yesterday, and he said something really bad about you.”
Cassie’s eyes darkened. “What did he say, Jen?” she asked.
Jennifer hesitated, then looked away. “He—he said you’re a witch,” she breathed. “He said you’re a witch and you’re crazy, just like Miranda was, and you ought to be locked up.” She fell silent, then finally managed to turn and face Cassie again. “It’s not true, is it?” she asked anxiously.
To her surprise, Cassie smiled gently at her. “What do you think?”
“I—I don’t know what to think,” she said. Then: “After he was gone, I asked Mom.”
Cassie’s eyes flickered with worry. “And what did she say?”
Jennifer hesitated, and looked away. “She—she didn’t say anything,” she replied quietly. “But if it wasn’t true, why would Mr. Chambers say something like that? Grown-ups don’t lie, do they?”
Cassie was silent for a few seconds, and when she finally spoke, she sounded angry to Jennifer. “Sometimes they do,” she said. “And Mr. Chambers did because he doesn’t like me. In fact he hates me, because of what happened to Lisa.”
Jennifer blinked curiously. “But you didn’t do anything to Lisa, did you?”
“I—” Cassie began, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, Jen. Why don’t you just go back to bed?” Turning away, Cassie pulled the covers up and closed her eyes.
Jennifer slid off the bed, but then reached out to pat the spot at the foot of the bed where Sumi always slept.
There was nothing there.
She felt again, then explored the rest of the bed with her hands. “Cassie?” she asked a moment later.
“Huh?” Cassie mumbled.
“Where’s Sumi? Why isn’t he here?”
&n
bsp; Cassie’s eyes popped open and she sat up. She quickly scanned the room.
The cat had been there last night. She was sure of it. But this morning he was gone.
“G-go back to bed, Jen,” Cassie said.
Jennifer hesitated, but something in Cassie’s eyes told her not to argue. She hurried out of the room and a few seconds later was back in bed, snuggled against the warmth of her mother. Soon her breathing evened out into the gentle rhythms of sleep.
For Cassie the night’s sleep was over.
It was already ten past seven, but neither Cassie nor Eric had yet come downstairs. Rosemary wondered if maybe she should simply let them sleep in. Certainly they wouldn’t be going to school this morning, not after what they’d been through over the weekend.
And what was today going to be like?
She shook her head as she tried to imagine Gene Templeton’s response to Cassie’s version of what had happened to both Lisa Chambers and Harold Simms. Would he feel the same sense of shocked incredulity she had experienced the previous night when Keith had finally brought both Cassie and Eric home from Miranda’s cabin in the marsh?
“I was angry at them,” Cassie had explained, her blue eyes looking beseechingly at Rosemary. “I was angry at them, and I wanted to hurt them. But I didn’t know what Sumi could do. I didn’t know!”
Rosemary had looked at her in confusion. “Sumi? Cassie, what on earth are you talking about?”
“The cat,” Keith explained, his voice tight. “There is some kind of communication between Cassie and the cat. The cat understands what’s going on in her mind and acts on it.”
Slowly Cassie began to tell the story, and as Rosemary listened, her shock grew with each passing minute.
“Sumi went after Lisa because she was going to do something to me,” Cassie finished. “When he came back, I saw what happened. It’s like I can see whatever he saw.” She bit her lip, and her eyes glistened with tears. “Mr. Cavanaugh didn’t kill her. But he didn’t try to save her either. He just stood there and watched her die.”