In the flickery light from the candle, she stood before me with her beautiful breasts outlined under the sheer black nightgown, their rosy tips staring at me like wide eyes. Speaking of which, Evalyn’s eyes were themselves round and staring—in a pale, haunted face.
“Nate,” she said, “forgive me for this intrusion.”
I threw back the covers. “You’re forgiven.”
She climbed in bed and I threw the covers back up over her, and me. She was shivering.
“You’ve caught a chill,” I said.
“No,” she said.
“What is it then?”
“You’ll think I’m foolish.”
“No I won’t.”
“I…I was in bed, almost asleep. I heard footsteps on the stairs. I wondered who might be coming up. First I thought it might be Inga, but the sounds went right by Inga’s room and came toward mine.”
She pulled the covers around her, tighter. I slipped my arm around her; she was trembling like a frightened deer.
“As they…they reached my door, these footsteps, they stopped. I thought that any moment, whoever it was would enter my room. I thought, perhaps, it was you…after last night, perhaps a midnight rendezvous….”
“I haven’t been out of my room, Evalyn.”
She nodded, as if she knew that already. “Across from my room is a doorway to the stairs to the third floor— which is shut off. I don’t even know where the key is. I heard footsteps going up those stairs. Then I heard the footsteps above me. Above the ceiling of my room.”
“Maybe it’s Inga.”
“I don’t think so. I got up, went into the hallway. The third-floor door was locked.”
“It wasn’t me up, wandering. You don’t think Means doubled back, for some reason?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. The caretaker doesn’t live on the grounds; he has a little place in Bradley Hills. Why would he be stalking around?”
“If you’re concerned…”
“It could be one of the kidnappers, checking us out, couldn’t it?”
“It’s possible.”
She turned to me; her eyes were as frightened as they were lovely. “Can I stay with you tonight?”
“You talked me into it. What about Inga? Are you concerned about what she might think…?”
“I have no secrets from Inga. Could we block the door?”
I told her we could; I got out of bed, moved the dresser in front of the door, and got my nine millimeter out of my travel bag and put it on the nightstand.
“Slide over,” I told her. I wanted to be next to the gun.
She slid over. “I’m a damned fool.”
“This house would give Frankenstein the willies.” I climbed in bed next to her. “Look, it could’ve been your imagination. You might’ve been dreaming, or hearing night sounds…”
“It is a noisy night.”
“Sure. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Hold me, would you, Nate? Hold me.”
I held her.
“Don’t blow out the candle,” she said.
“I won’t.”
“Why do you put up with me?”
“I like women with big money and big breasts.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You really think so?”
“No.”
The wind shook the windows, boards and glass alike; she grabbed me. She was terrified. So I kissed her, just to settle her down. It led to more.
“You must think
“Not at all.”
“You think I’m shallow. You think I’m silly.”
“Sure. But not terrible.”
