“Oh! Oh! It is Cecilia! Gregory was right. She lived. How good to know she lived.” Sylvia laughed and thought how good it was to laugh.
Erin lifted her hand.
Abruptly sober, Sylvia cowered.
Erin dropped her head, took an impatient breath and said, “Gregory wanted her dead. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember.”
“When we brought him back to the house, Gregory told me to finish the job that he failed to do. That was what Gregory wanted. Don’t you understand?”
“I understand, but, dear, Cecilia was such a sweet girl, and your brother…hurt her. The way Waddington hurt me.” Sylvia saw the past, felt the pain of broken bones and cruel taunts. “We can let Cecilia go, can’t we?”
“Is that what you think?”
“You did bury him, didn’t you? Gregory? You buried him?”
“Where, Mother? Everyone thought he was dead!”
“It doesn’t matter where. You didn’t keep his body, did you? For so long? That would be—”
“Monstrous? Because I’m a monster created by you and my father?” Erin’s hazel eyes blazed.
Sylvia shrank away. “Don’t be angry. I didn’t call you a monster…did I?”
“Honestly, Mother. You’re batty!”
The computer dinged again. Sylvia perked up. “Good! An email. I like emails. I’m not so alone when they come in.” She tried to walk toward the desk.
Erin steered her toward the bed and said forcefully, “Mother, it’s nighttime. You’re sleepy. You should go to sleep.”
“I am sleepy.” Anotherding!Sylvia remembered the photo and again tried to walk to the computer. “But I want to write Debbie, tell her that that’s not Cecilia’s cousin, but Cecilia herself. How good to know Cecilia is alive and well!”
Erin blocked her. “At least the cousin is dead,” she said with cold satisfaction. “She intended to steal Cecilia from Gregory. For that, she deserved to die.”
“No, she didn’t.” Sylvia wrung her hands. “He shouldn’t have killed her.”
“Does Debbie say where they are?”
“I don’t remember. I think… I don’t know. But Debbie and her sister go there every year with their friends for a mystery weekend. Do you think I might go next year?”
Erin put her hands on her mother’s shoulders and pressed her onto the bed. “Yes. You should go next year.”
“And see Cecilia? I’ll tell her to beware of you.” Sylvia’s mind wandered again. “You’re a monster like your father and your brother, only worse…”
“Such a good idea to warn Cecilia.” Erin helped her mother lie on the bed. She pulled up the blankets, tucked her in, made her comfortable.
Sylvia smiled into her daughter’s face. “I always knew you were the worst of them.”
“Yes.” Erin picked up a pillow.
“But I love you anyway.” Sylvia petted Erin’s cheek. “My daughter. My monster. Tomorrow I’ll warn Debbie about you. She’ll tell Cecilia.”
“That’s a good idea, Mother. Tomorrow. You do that.”
14
Kellen was exhausted. She should go back to her cottage right now, get some sleep before getting up tomorrow for another replay of today. But she was frazzled, worried about Annie, about the resort’s staff, about a gruesome death committed somewhere close, and the body… So many questions about the body. And the killer. Was the killer lurking in the winter’s dark and observing as they reacted to the recovery of Priscilla’s body, hands removed in some cruel dissection?