The Dark: A Collection (Point Horror) Page 20

  Bianca smiled. She'd been trying extra hard to reassure the Shipleys about her ability to take care of Little Katie by herself.

  Ronnie positioned himself with Bianca and Katie squarely in the center of the big picture window in the living room. He stood there waving goodbye beside her. He raised Little Katie's hand and made her wave as well.

  As soon as the Shipleys' limousine disappeared up the street, Ronnie grabbed Bianca by the arm. He propelled her over to the kitchen sink. He poured her a glass of water.

  "Remember that medication I told you about?"

  She nodded. Truthfully, she'd forgotten — she'd been so busy the past couple of days.

  He held up the plastic bottle and screwed off the lid. "Take one every morning as soon as you wake up. The pills will calm your nerves and prevent you from hearing voices."

  "What's in it?" She hesitated a little as he raised the pill to her mouth.

  "A sedative, of course."

  She took the pill obediently. Within a few minutes, she began to feel the effects of the medication. It was so strong that her head whirled around. She clutched the back of the kitchen chair for support.

  She didn't feel alarmed any more. It was as if she couldn't feel anything. Her nerves felt dulled and groggy. It was hard to even remember where she was.

  Ronnie escorted Bianca to the middle of the living room where Little Katie's toys were strewn about.

  "Play with Katie. Keep her occupied," he ordered Bianca. "I've got a lot to do." Before he left her, he took the credit card. "Someone in your state can't be trusted with something as important as this."

  She nodded dreamily. "Yes, Ronnie."

  Ronnie called upon the servants — everyone from the cook, to the butler, to the upstairs maid, to the gardener. He barked orders as if it were second nature, and he was used to doing it every day of his life.

  "Go to the florist. Get flowers for Miss Bianca and Little Katie. Here's exactly what I want." He handed the errand boy a note.

  Bianca began to wonder why the emphasis on flowers and floral arrangements. It seemed strange. Her brain was so foggy that she could barely think. She should be glad that Ronnie was here to make decisions for her. There was probably some obvious reason why he wanted the flowers. She, dimwit that she had become, had forgotten it. It would make her look more stupid to ask.

  He told the maid, "Go up to the attic. Bring down all the suitcases that you can possibly find."

  "Why do we need so many suitcases, Ronnie?" Bianca asked in confusion. "We're only supposed to be in London for a few days. Or did I get that wrong, too?"

  "There are many things that need to be brought for a short trip," Ronnie replied with a note of impatience. "That's no concern of yours. Play with the girl and leave the rest to me. Nobody in your condition could do something as demanding or complicated as plan for this trip."

  Bianca nodded. She could hardly keep track of where Katie was on the floor. Once or twice she lost her behind a chair. She smiled to think that Ronnie would take care of everything.

  Ronnie sent the Shipleys' butler to the jewelry store. "Have the jeweler call me if there are any questions," he instructed him as he gave him a note.

  What did Ronnie need with a jewelry store? Bianca must be getting pretty dull-witted if she couldn't figure any of this out. She just kept on smiling. She was sure everything would turn out all right.

  Bianca sat in the middle of the floor playing with TR Bear, Lou and Little Katie. She was interrupted by a flurry of papers that she had to sign. Most of them seemed to be credit-card receipts. Ronnie thrust them in front of her one after the other.

  "Sign here."

  He didn't give her time to focus on what she was signing, not that her eyesight was that clear. It was all one blur of pen marks. Her hand was so unsteady that he had to hold her by the wrist so that she could write.

  He continued to direct her. "Not over there. Over here. See the line?"

  "Couldn't you do it for me, Ronnie?" She looked at him and blinked. He faded in and out.

  "Mrs. Shipley left the credit card in your name only. I didn't have time to explain how badly off you are, how she should leave it in my name instead."

  Next Bianca had to stand up because somebody had arrived to take her measurements. Ronnie had to pull her up by the hand and steady her, or she might have fallen over. She was none too sure of her footing since this morning's pill.

  "What do they need my measurements for, Ronnie?" she asked, like one not quite awake.

  "You need a wardrobe for London. It wouldn't be necessary, but you haven't paid much attention to your clothes since you inherited your money. When I sent the maid over to your house to pack what was hanging in your closet, there was not only nothing suitable there — there was nothing there at all! Mrs. Shipley said you could buy whatever you needed."

  Bianca vaguely remembered something happening to her suitcase some days ago. She wrinkled her forehead and tried to recall what. Some guy with a car. . . Somebody threatening her with a gun. . . Bianca shook her head at the effort it took to remember his name or his face. She could not recall him no matter how hard she tried.

  People she had never seen before were rushing in and out of the Shipleys' house. A pile of boxes was getting higher in the foyer. She might be addle-brained. But she was certain that they could not take all this stuff on the plane to London. Could they? Mr. and Mrs. Shipley had left with only one suitcase each and one carry-on bag in addition to Mrs. Shipley's purse! Or had Bianca gotten that wrong, too?

  Bianca thought, Perhaps I just shouldn't try to think at all. Yes, that would be better.

  Br-r-r-r-r-r-ring!

  Bianca gaped at the phone. Ronnie seemed to be oblivious to the sound. He was standing outside on the front porch directing the stream of traffic created by men in uniform delivering boxes. He was talking on his cellphone at the same time. He probably didn't hear the phone.

  "Ronnie!" Bianca called. He obviously didn't hear her either.

  Should she answer it? It rang persistently like somebody who wanted to get through. It stopped and started right away. She had answered the Shipleys' phone before when she'd been babysitting with Little Katie, hadn't she? At least she thought she had.

  Could it be the Shipleys? They could be calling on their cellphones from the airport to give her some last-minute instructions or to ask some question. Maybe they wanted to talk to Little Katie. Yes, it was her duty to answer, though she wished Ronnie would do it for her.

  "H-hello?" She picked up the receiver with an unsteady hand.

  "Bianca!"

  It sounded like a familiar voice.

  "Yes, this is Bianca Winters," she replied in the monotone that had become her voice today.

  "Bianca, you don't sound like yourself. You sound groggy, sleepy, like you're on something."

  She wrinkled her forehead. She didn't know what the caller was talking about.

  "Ex-excuse me, I — I haven't been well lately," Bianca tried to explain politely. "But I'll get Ronnie — I mean Byron Kingsley. He's a doctor, you know. He's right over there on the front porch. He's the one you want to talk to anyway, I'm sure."

  Bianca was about to put the receiver down when the voice protested. He shouted her ear off.

  "Bianca, don't you dare hang up on me!"

  Her hand stopped, frozen in place. Lately she was beginning to learn to respond to commands. She gaped at the receiver. The voice was becoming more familiar to her fogged brain. She blinked.

  "It's you I want to talk to — not that creep who treats you like you were one of those remote-control cars from Radio Shack, the kind I used to get for Christmas. The kind where you push a button and make it go."

  Bianca was more confused than ever. She did not understand why the caller was talking about remote-control cars from Radio Shack. Maybe he was trying to sell something. That must be it. Those callers phoned at the most inconvenient times.

  "Sorry, we're about ready to leave now for Lon
don. We don't want to buy anything today." Bianca hung up.

  Br-r-r-r-ring!

  "H-hello?"

  "Did that creep make you hang up?"

  "Cr-creep?"

  "Yeah, alias Dr. Byron Kingsley. The creep!"

  Bianca looked towards Ronnie. He was still standing outside on the front porch.

  "You — you shouldn't call Ronnie names. He's very smart and well educated. He's an intern at the hospital. He's training to be a psychiatrist, you know, and—"

  "Bianca, don't you remember me? You act as if you don't know my name."

  She put her hand to her head. "No, no, I'm sorry, I don't recall—"

  "What's that bastard got you on? It's Harry, Harry Fellini!"

  "Harry Fellini. . ." She mouthed the words. That did sound familiar from somewhere. It was on the tip of her tongue. "Oh yes, the bad one. The one who went to jail."

  "No, that's my brother, Mike Fellini. Don't you remember, hon? I was supposed to be your boyfriend until this Byron Kingsley character showed up."

  Boyfriend? All she could think to repeat aloud was, "Sorry, Ronnie wouldn't approve."

  "You sound like he's got you drugged to the point you hardly know your own name. That doesn't surprise me after what I've found out. Look, his British passport's fake. I don't know who he is. He's not Byron Kingsley. There is a Byron Kingsley in London all right. At least there was. He died last Christmas. He was an eighty-five-year-old dentist. And—"

  Ronnie snatched the phone from Bianca's hand. She smiled with gratefulness. He had saved her from the strange caller.

  "Fellini, how did you get out of jail? I heard from Bianca's attorney that he couldn't spring you on bail this time for any amount of money. Did you escape like Mike?" Ronnie confronted the caller.

  Bianca could hear the caller on the other end of the line. It sounded as if he were shouting at Ronnie.

  "What kind of game are you playing, Byron Kingsley, not that that's your real name!"

  "You're babbling nonsense. Perhaps you take it for some perverse game. Your family seems to be fond of perverse games, doesn't it? Bianca and I are very busy. Bother someone else." Ronnie looked disgusted and ready to hang up.

  "Talk about games, what are you doing to Bianca?"

  "Bianca is my affair. She's not well. Nor is she the subject for public discussion. My next call will be to the police, Fellini. Goodbye."

  Ronnie scowled at Bianca. "You're not to answer the phone again. I don't care how many times it rings."

  She clutched Little Katie and nodded woodenly. She hated it when Ronnie was angry at her.

  When the phone rang again — as it did as soon as Ronnie was out of the room and back out on the front porch — she just stared at it. If the Shipleys later complained that they had called, she would have to say that she'd been outside in the backyard with Little Katie, trying to distract the little girl from scratching her rash.

  Bianca didn't have long to sit there and wonder what to do next. Ronnie was telling her that it was time to go back to his apartment.

  "Back to the apartment?" she asked without any comprehension of where that was. "But I can't —" She looked at Little Katie.

  "There are some things I need to do there, some loose ends I need to tie up if I'm going to be away. Who knows exactly how long we'll be in London? Nobody knows how many tests the doctor will run. Who knows how long it will take Little Katie to get better? I may have to take a formal leave from my job at the hospital."

  "But Katie. . . I—"

  "We'll bring the child with us to the apartment, of course."

  Bianca didn't really care where she went as long as Little Katie was with her. Little Katie was not familiar with Ronnie's apartment and wailed. It was all that Bianca could do to keep her quiet and entertained.

  Ronnie was busy making more phone calls and packing his briefcase the whole time. He talked to the Shipleys after they arrived in London and told them that Katie was as well as could be expected. Katie babbled on the phone to them before she went to bed.

  That night Bianca had a strange dream that she couldn't decipher. She was racing down long, darkened corridors. The blackness was pressing in on her, making her feel panicked and forcing her to run faster. Finally at the end of the last corridor there was a bright light. She raced toward it. When she got to the end, she found that the bright light was only empty sky. She was falling through it with clouds all around her. Beneath her was the sea ready to swallow her up.

  Chapter 8

  She screamed and hit the sea.

  She opened her eyes. She was lying on their mattress. The first rays of dawn were filtering through the drapes, which Ronnie kept tightly shut. Katie lay right next to their bed on her own mattress, sound asleep. She was cuddling Mr. TR Bear and Lou. One of Lou's cinnamon ears was in her mouth.

  Bianca wanted to slip her arms around Katie and carry her back to her bed. It would make her feel more secure. But the little girl was so peaceful that Bianca didn't want to disturb her. Lately she had been so miserable with her unexplained skin rash.

  Bianca rolled over, expecting to find Ronnie next to her. He was gone. She couldn't hear any sounds from the bathroom. She got up. She wrapped her robe about herself and went searching for him. He wasn't in the dining room. He wasn't in the kitchen. She was beginning to grow alarmed when she saw a row of suitcases lined up in the foyer right next to the front door.

  In her bare feet Bianca padded over to the door and peered out. There was Ronnie loading suitcases into the back of a limousine. A uniformed driver was helping him. He and the driver were talking. The driver's back was turned toward her, though there seemed to be something vaguely familiar about his stance. She couldn't place it, just as she hadn't been able to place a lot of things lately.

  Ronnie came back through the front door. He saw Bianca standing there.

  "Yes, yes, it's time for your pill, isn't it?" He went for the supply in the small bag in his suitcase. He handed her one. "Take it. Get dressed. It'll do you good once we start on our trip. Today's the day we fly to London."

  He kissed her on her cheek and smiled. Ronnie didn't usually smile very often. Nor did he usually seem to be in such a good mood.

  He hurried her off to her room. "You see the clothes I have laid out? Put them on. We don't want to lollygag."

  They were brand new, conservative but expensive-looking. There was a short-sleeved, ivory dress with a back zipper. Skinny-heel leather pumps went with it. There was an ivory jacket of the exact same shade and even a new string of pearls with matching earrings.

  She recalled the jeweler from yesterday. This must have been what Ronnie had bought. It was rather extravagant. If Ronnie thought it was what was needed to go to London, so be it. The Shipleys wouldn't mind. They never begrudged her anything.

  She didn't feel good about today somehow. Maybe it was just her peculiar nightmare. Bianca couldn't be sure. Her hand was shaking when she went to take the pill. She dropped it down the sink. She reached for it, but it slipped down the drain.

  Bianca glanced over her shoulder. She hoped that Ronnie had not been watching. He would think her impossibly clumsy and stupid.

  Oh well! She would have to pretend that she had taken her pill. Bianca didn't want to risk angering Ronnie by asking him for another.

  Big mistake! At least that was what Bianca decided as soon as she had washed her face, gotten dressed and served the breakfast from the fast-food takeout bags on the dining-room table. Her hands shook. For sure she felt more nervous without the sedative.

  Fortunately Ronnie was distracted by his constant cellphone calls. He didn't have time to notice her hands, even if she spilled the coffee and cream and dropped a donut or two. He didn't object when she got powdered sugar on his suit pants.

  Finally it was time to leave. Ronnie ushered Bianca, carrying Katie over her shoulder, into the back seat of the limousine. He got in the opposite side and barked to the driver, "To the airport!" At once he got out his cellpho
ne to make another call.

  The driver glanced at Ronnie. Bianca's hair stood up on end. Her brain wasn't foggy this morning. She would recognize that face anywhere. Why, wasn't that Rick Roscoe, though he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform?

  She hadn't been in such close proximity to him since that day when he'd hidden in the window well at school. He'd warned her that she'd better kidnap Little Katie for him, or there would be trouble. Was this the trouble that Rick had threatened? Bianca didn't think that she was hallucinating when he grinned at her as if he really enjoyed the horrified look on her face.

  Rick Roscoe turned back around in his seat. Was it her imagination that he was eyeing her in the rear-view mirror?

  Ronnie continued to talk on his cellphone. He was so preoccupied this morning that he might not notice what was going on. Besides, she wondered if Ronnie knew about Rick Roscoe. Ronnie had not been here this spring when Rick and Marianna had gotten into so much trouble with the local police. Over in London the story wouldn't have been covered by the newspapers!

  What was Rick doing driving a limousine to the airport? Was this a new job? Or had he knocked the real driver over the head and thrown him into some back alley so that he could be here? Had Rick been snooping on Little Katie's medical condition? Had he found out from some source — perhaps a servant of the Shipleys — that they were going to London? Was this Rick's way of interfering with Bianca's plans?

  Bianca watched anxiously to make sure that Rick Roscoe was driving toward the Jacksonville International Airport in Florida, the closest major airport to St. Simons Island. When he got across the bridge connecting St. Simons Island to the mainland and out on to I-95, he turned north instead of south. That was a sure sign that something was very wrong.

  Ronnie was talking a mile a minute on his cellphone and leafing through a copy of a foreign newspaper at the same time, written in a language that Bianca could not read.

  "Ronnie!" She grabbed his shoulder and shook him.