Chapter Fourteen
Vic was nowhere to be found for the rest of the day. It was a little strange that he was gone so long. Even Matthew had retired to his bedroom hours before me, seemingly disappointed by the lack of results from the coroner.
From my bed, I listened for Vic. Yet, no sign of him came. Finally, I reached into my bedside table and pulled out the household keys I had found earlier. I clamped them in my hand, and put a silk robe on over my nightgown.
I stepped into the hallway, keeping my cell phone’s flashlight on and pressed against my leg to avoid spilling any unnecessary light. The moonlight came in through the windows, providing just enough illumination that I could make my way down the stairs and into the foyer.
All the lights of the first floor were off. I stood there for a moment, taking in the stillness of the house in Vic’s absence.
Then, I heard it.
The sound was muffled, coming from somewhere in the basement. It was strange and animalistic: somewhere between a breath and a wail.
My blood ran ice cold, and the set of keys I gripped in my hand seemed to fix against my skin.
The basement hallway was dark and windowless; it made the flashlight necessary. I inched the phone away from my thigh, and the light it cast had a reddish glow as it reflected off of my nightgown. I made my way carefully down the stairs, wincing as a jutting nail head pressed into the ball of my foot.
In the basement, I could see no light coming from under Matthew’s door.
I don’t know exactly what I hoped to accomplish, but I would have my curiosity satisfied. I went into the wine cellar and shone the flashlight into every corner, behind every shelf.
I let a little light fall into the hallway, as I tried to mentally gauge the distance between myself and the two doors at the end. I again stifled the light against myself and made my way through, letting the light shine only a little when I found my feet unsure.
I stood in darkness at the juncture between Matthew’s bedroom door and the other room, where Edith had attacked me those few nights ago.
I heard the sound come again, but this time only faintly. It was behind the door to my right, the one beside Matthew’s bedroom.
In the darkness, I fumbled through the keys, careful to make no noise. I pressed the end of each key against the lock, dragging the end to the place of insertion to make sure that there was no telltale clink of metal which might expose me. Finally, I found the right key and opened the door, my heart pounding as the deadbolt clicked out of place.
I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. I leaned back, taking a few deep breaths, before shining the flashlight openly into the room.
The space was more or less as it had been before. There were cardboard boxes stacked on the floor, and a table in the corner.
Only one thing was new: a large, rectangular box covered in black cloth.
I walked nearly in a crouch to the box, my heart beating wildly. A movement came from under the cloth, and I held my breath.
I knelt down beside the box, and picked up the corner of the cloth with my index finger and thumb. I lifted it a little, and saw the joined metal bars of a cage. It seemed like a large dog cage underneath the fabric.
I lifted it a little more, feeling the cold rush of adrenaline spiking in my system.
The fabric was about a quarter of the way up the side of the cage. With my other hand, I shone the flashlight inside.
Something rushed towards me, and human fingers shot through the bars, stopping short as the hand slammed against the restraint of the cage.
I gasped and fell backwards, my phone skittering against the ground away from me.
The cell phone had landed with the flashlight side down, and I was thrown into darkness. I could hear the heavy breathing of the person in the cage; I could hear them pounding their bleeding fists against the side, attacking the constraints again and again as they tried to reach me.
I crawled on hands and knees to the glimmer of light against the floor indicating my phone’s location.
The person in the cage made the same hollow, throaty sound, as though trying to wail but finding their vocal cords non-compliant.
There was no way Matthew hadn’t heard the rattling of the cage and the prisoner’s attempts to shout.
I sprinted to the door, opened it, and ran through the hallway. I had closed the door, but remembered that I hadn’t locked it. Against my better judgement, I ran back and locked the door again. To my great relief, Matthew did not emerge from his bedroom.
I went back upstairs and switched on all the lights in the first floor. The light flooding every corner, banishing every shadow began to calm me a little. I needed to call the police, I knew that, but I found my fingers hesitating against the phone’s screen.
Instead, I sat down on the couch, in the same place where earlier that day Vic had held me to him, pressing his fingers inside of me, and asking me to stay here, with him.
I felt an immobility born of necessary defeat seep into my bones, and I relaxed my entire body against the couch.
The front door opened, and Vic stood in the doorway. He was wearing a black suit jacket over a crisp, white, button-down shirt, and dark blue jeans. In the time that I had known him, this was the most well-dressed I had seen him. I felt a pang of jealousy as I wondered where he had been, and whom he might have been seeing.
“Why are you still up?” he asked, though not unkindly.
He sat down next to me and placed his hand on my knee. His skin was cold from the night air, and he ran his palm up my warm thigh, stopping just at the hem of my night gown.
“Something’s in the basement,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows and his lips thinned a little, clearly doubting my claims.
“Please,” I said, “will you come with me?”
I stood up, causing his hand to fall from my leg. Without a word, he stood up and placed his palm on the small of my back, as though to immediately reestablish contact.
“You lead the way,” he said.
I didn’t bother with the flashlight, since Vic’s presence offered some legitimacy to my errand. I realized I still had the keys in my hand, so I gripped them a little tighter and let the sleeve of my dressing gown fall over my hand. No one needed to know I held the key to every room.
Vic switched on the light to the basement, and we walked downstairs in the bright, golden illumination. I realized that, until this point, I had never actually been in the basement without the flashlight’s cold glare.
I led Vic to the door, and stood to the side. I knew that I had locked it, but said nothing as Vic reached down and turned the handle. To my astonishment, the door swung open easily.
He switched on the light, and I followed him in.
Inside, there were the same stacks of cardboard boxes, and the table in the corner. The floor was bare where the cage had been only minutes earlier. I looked around wildly, desperation sinking in.
“What kind of sound?” Vic asked.
I shook my head. “Like some kind of big animal. I don’t know.”
Vic looked around, before his eyes found me again, his brow creased with concern.
“I don’t see anything, but it was probably outside. There’s a row of hedges just here,” he said, pointing at the upper corner of the wall. “Maybe an animal was in the bushes.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Should we check Matthew’s bedroom?”
At this, Vic chuckled. “We can, if you want. I think he might be asleep, though.”
I nodded. “Please.”
Vic shrugged and exhaled sharply. “Okay.”
We went back into the hallway, and Vic knocked on Matthew’s bedroom door.
“Yeah?” a voice came through the wall.
“Nadia thought she heard something in the basement, maybe an animal. Do you mind if I take a quick look around your room? Just want to make sure we don’t have some kind of infestation.”
“Okay,” Matthew’s defeated voice came back.
Only seconds later, the door opened. Matthew stood in the doorway; his blond hair was mussed from his pillow, and he was wearing a graphic t-shirt and boxers.
His eyes widened a little when he saw me, and I saw a slight flush crawl over his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here too,” he said.
Vic laughed.
“You hear anything?” he asked.
Matthew shook his head. “But I’ve been sleeping.”
“Yeah, sorry about the interruption. Can we come in?” he said.
Matthew stood aside and extended his arm, waving us in.
I walked in with Vic, not wanting to betray the fact that I had been in the room before. Then again, if Matthew had exchanged one liquid for another in the vial I stole, he likely already knew.
The room was exactly as I had seen it before: the same mess, the same stacks of paper bearing indecipherable writing.
Matthew stood awkwardly in the corner scratching his bearded jaw.
Nothing.
There was no cage, no imprisoned human. Nothing.
“I don’t see anything,” Vic said to me quietly.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I guess it was just something outside.”
Vic turned back to Matthew. “Sorry about that, just have to be safe with these older houses.”
Matthew waved us away. “No problem. I get it.”
We wished Matthew goodnight, and left. I could feel hot shame blistering my body from within.
“I’m sorry,” I said as we walked back upstairs.
Vic chuckled. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you let me know, since it might have been something serious.”
But it was serious. Whether the person in the cage had been moved, or whether I had imagined the entire scenario, neither answer provided much comfort.
“Where were you today?” I asked, immediately regretting asking.
Vic exhaled long and slow. “I was at the police station.”
It wasn’t the answer I was expecting.
“Why?” I asked, as Vic closed the basement door and we went into the kitchen.
Vic didn’t answer at first. Instead, he got down two glasses and filled both with red wine. He sat down at the head of the table, and I joined him at the corner.
“I may not have told you everything about Margaret’s departure. She didn’t leave without a word. She snuck away, sure, but she left a note which was incredibly disturbing. I didn’t think too much about it, since she had been so angry with me and Matthew for cutting her out of my mother’s treatment.”
“What did it say?” I asked.
Vic shook his head. “Nothing I’d want to repeat, especially not to you.”
“It was about me?” I asked.
Vic laughed. “I’m sure that last run in you two had didn’t help, but no. It seemed to be about all of us, even Theresa upstairs. The things she said about my mother and aunt make her comments about me and you seem downright charitable.”
I was speechless.
“Violent, threatening language. After what happened to my mother, I gave the letter to the police, and I’ve been answering their questions all evening. They think that if Margaret does come back, she could represent a credible threat to us.”
I put my hand on his, and gave it a gentle squeeze. The immediate swell of compassion and concern within me blotted out the evening’s events. The image of the cage lurked beneath the surface of my mind, but blind and mute.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“There is something I want to ask you, but I feel like it’s more for my peace of mind than for your own good, so I feel guilty even saying it.”
“What is it?” I asked.
Vic exhaled, turning his palm upwards to clasp my hand in a reassuring hold.
“Will you sleep in my room until this matter is resolved. Just sleep. I feel like I’ll be awake every night worrying about your safety, wondering if Margaret broke in with a weapon and she’s targeting you to hurt me.”
I nodded. “I’ll stay with you.”
It was such a small thing to ask, and even smaller for me to give.
He squeezed my hand again. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
I nodded. “What about Theresa, until you find Margaret’s replacement?”
Vic shrugged. “I haven’t been up to see her yet, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
“You mean since you told her about Edith,” I said, trying to keep my words light and casual, baiting a response.
Vic’s eyebrow twitched upward. “What?”
“I brought her breakfast yesterday. She said you came up after Edith’s death to let her know.”
“That would have meant today,” Vic said.
“I know. I think she must have been confused or remembering a dream.”
“What else did she say?” Vic pressed.
“She said you were at the foot of her bed, drunk and crying, talking about Edith’s death,” I said, the intensity of his gaze seeming to force the words from my lips.
Vic exhaled sharply. “I haven’t seen her since my return. She must be confused, like you said.”
“Yeah, she said you looked older than she remembered you. She did seem convinced it was you, though.”
Vic pulled me into a tight embrace, my head resting against his chest. “I’ll have to go see her tomorrow. Maybe seeing me will help her figure out what she’s talking about.”
I pulled closer to him, enjoying the solidity of his hold, the heat of his body melting through the silk wrapped around me.
He led me to his room, and I laid down on the bed, pulling the covers over my body. Vic disappeared into the bathroom, and I could hear the shower running. I fell asleep to the sound, overtaken by a weariness which could not be forestalled even by the strange events of the night.