Read The Boarding House Online
Authors: Sharon Sala
“What’s going on?”
Cinnamon grabbed her by the shoulders. “I need to find Wyatt. Have you seen him?”
Doris sighed. “Not in a while. He doesn’t like you, you know, so he may be ignoring you.”
“Crap. I didn’t think of that. Sophie. I’ll find Sophie.”
“Maybe she’s in her room. Ellie says she’s hard of hearing.”
“Right.” Cin dashed back down the hall, shouting Sophie’s name.
Sophie opened the door then peered out. “Is someone calling me?”
Cin was in a panic. “Ellie tried to kill herself. You need to find Wyatt. She needs help.”
Sophie gasped and began calling Wyatt’s name as she ran toward Ellie’s room. But by the time they got back into the bedroom, Wyatt was already there.
“Where’s Ellie? What’s all the shouting?” he asked
“Oh my God,” Cinnamon screamed and ran to the bathroom, but it was empty. “Where did she go?”
Wyatt frowned. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Ellie tried to kill herself by taking a bunch of sleeping pills. I flushed them down the toilet then ran to find you, but now she’s gone.”
All of a sudden, Wyatt thought of the gun. He bolted for his room with Sophie and Cinnamon on his heels and found Ellie on her hands and knees by his bed. The only thing that had saved her was her lack of physical strength. She was too weak to crawl under.
He pulled her to her feet then sat her on the side of his bed. “What’s the matter with you? You don’t quit. We’re tough, Ellie, we’re tough. Together we can get through anything, remember?”
Ellie looked at him with a blank expression. Not only did she not recognize Wyatt, she didn’t appear to even know where she was.
At that point, Wyatt crawled under his bed and pulled the gun out from its hiding place.
When Ellie saw the gun, reality surfaced. “Give it to me. It’s mine.”
Wyatt shoved her backward. “What’s wrong with you?”
She hit the bed with her fists and started weeping, which frightened Wyatt even more. Ellie hadn’t cried in years. She’d been saving them for something that mattered. So what the hell had happened that he didn’t know about?
“I know what’s wrong with her,” Cinnamon said.
Wyatt turned in disbelief. “Why do you know that? I don’t.”
“It has something to do with protecting you, I think,” Cinnamon said.
“You promised not to tell,” Ellie mumbled.
“But I didn’t say I would let you kill yourself.”
Wyatt snapped. “Damn it. Someone better tell me something.”
“Your Daddy has been molesting both of you for most of your life, hasn’t he?”
Wyatt reeled as if he’d been slapped. “She told you that?”
Sophie clasped her hands over her mouth in disbelief. “No! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have stopped that in an instant.”
“Ellie said her dad had movies of the game you used to play. Lots of movies.”
Wyatt flinched. All of a sudden the past began to make sense. Why Ellie went back to playing the game after she’d made Garrett stop—why she wouldn’t explain anything to him.
“Ellie, Ellie, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. Is that why you quit fighting him? To protect me?”
“That’s not all,” Cinnamon said. “You know all those bruises on her face?”
The shock of this revelation was almost too much for Sophie to comprehend. Her chin was trembling and she was beginning to shake. “When she fell in the shower?”
“No, when Garrett raped her.”
Sophie moaned. “I’m calling the police this minute.”
“She got pregnant, had an abortion, and now she hears a baby crying all the time. She calls it her ghost baby. She said she wants to die.”
Pregnant? The son of a bitch got her pregnant? Rage shot through Wyatt so fast he forgot to breathe. He grabbed the gun and ran out of the room.
Ellie moaned. “No Wyatt,” but it was already too late.
Garrett was on his bed, staring blindly at a video of him and Ellie after she’d turned thirteen—so pretty and already a little woman. He’d promised to take care of her.
What had he done?
He heard shouts in the hall outside his room but couldn’t draw enough interest to go see what was happening. Whoever it was would come to him if the need arose.
His face itched. He thought about shaving and taking a shower, then discarded the notion as a waste of time. No amount of soap could get him clean.
His focus shifted back to the screen as Ellie turned toward the camera, naked as the day she was born. He held his breath, knowing what came next. She stood there without moving—her eyes closed and her hands across her breasts as he picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“Look at me. Look at me,” Garrett begged, as he had that day, but she still wouldn’t look.
Someone screamed. It took him a few moments to realize that wasn’t part of his movie. They didn’t have any sound. So if he heard a scream, then what he was hearing was happening now and under his roof.
At the sound of footsteps running down the hall toward his room, he glanced at the door to make sure it was locked. And it was. But when the doorknob turned and the door wouldn’t open, he expected to hear a voice, not the gunshot that blew the doorknob into his room.
He screamed—a high-pitched shriek that popped his ears. Even as he watched Wyatt bound into the room with a gun, Garrett was still processing the fact he had screamed like a girl.
“What are you doing?” Garrett fumbled for the remote, anxious to turn it off before Wyatt saw, but it was too late.
Wyatt burst into the room, stopping suddenly to stare at the images on the screen.
“You bastard! You sorry, perverted son of a bitch!” He swung the gun toward Garrett’s face.
“What are you doing? No, Wyatt, don’t! Don’t do this!” Garrett tried to get up, but his legs were tangled in the sheets.
Wyatt waved the gun like a maestro with a baton, punctuating every word. “You got Ellie pregnant and she had an abortion. You ruined her life, you destroyed her joy and now you’ve killed what was left of her. Say your prayers, Daddy. You’re next.”
Wyatt heard Doris screaming in another room as he pulled the trigger. The first shot hit Garrett in the belly. He grunted—grabbing his gut in disbelief as blood gushed between his fingers.
Wyatt fired again, hitting Garrett high in the shoulder. He fell back against the headboard with his mouth agape, his eyes wide with growing horror.
Garrett groaned. He thought he was screaming again, when in fact he wasn’t making a sound. Pain was radiating from his gut throughout his body and Wyatt’s face was fading when he saw Fern standing off to one side in the corner.
I must be dying.
Wyatt pointed the gun again.
Fern came closer.
Doris ran into the room. “No, dear God, no! What have you done?”
Wyatt spun her toward the television. “Have a look at Daddy’s home movies and you’ll know what I’ve done. I’ve killed the Devil.”
Doris saw Ellie’s frail naked body and the redheaded man manipulating her every move, then looked at Garrett in disbelief. She’d never suspected. Not once.
Garrett grunted then choked. “Wait
. . .
confess.”
Wyatt laughed, but the sound was closer to a sob. “Confess? Confess to what? I already know what you’ve done. I was there, remember?”
“Fern
. . .
tried to take Ellie. Had
. . .
stop her.”
Wyatt’s entire focus was on making sure Garrett strangled on the blood bubbling up his throat and missed the implication of what Garrett was trying to confess.
Garrett lifted his hand toward Wyatt, oblivious to the horrified expression on Doris’s face. “Gave sleeping pills. Didn’t wake up.”
The words finally sank in, and when they did, Wyatt felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “You killed Momma?”
Doris couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Oh dear Lord.”
Garrett blinked. Fern was standing beside Wyatt now, looking at him with that accusing stare. “Yes
. . .
I needed—”
Wyatt put a bullet between his eyes.
Garrett’s head popped back against the headboard as Doris ran screaming from the room.
Wyatt felt nothing but relief. The rage was as spent as the last bullet he’d put in his father’s head. He turned his back on the dead man, dropped the gun on the bedroom floor and walked out. In the distance, he could hear the sound of sirens. The police were on their way. Might as well wait for them and get this over with.
Sophie was in the hall outside Ellie’s bedroom. “Oh Wyatt
. . .
what did you do?”
“He won’t hurt her anymore.”
“Where are you going?”
“The police are here.”
“What’s going to happen to us?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Daddy killed us all.”
“Wait, we’ll go with you. Ellie, get up. You’re going to have to help us explain what happened or they’re going to charge your brother with murder.”
“Leave her alone,” Wyatt said. “I did it. There’s nothing she can say that will change the truth.”
“I’ll get her,” Cinnamon said, and led Ellie out.
Lee Corbett had come on duty
at the Memphis Police Department battling a summer cold and had been short-tempered and miserable most of the day. When he and his partner, Allen Paul, got a “shots fired” call, they were the first to arrive on the scene. Officers Fredericks and Stanton were in the second cruiser. As they pulled up to the residence, they saw a middle-aged woman standing in the yard in a state of hysteria. She came running toward them as they got out.
“Someone’s dead inside the house,” she said, then covered her face with her apron and continued to sob.
“Who are you?” Lee asked.
“The housekeeper.”
“Is the shooter still inside?” Corbett asked, as he quickly pulled his weapon.
“Yes, but—”
Wyatt walked out with his hands in the air.
“There’s a dead man in the last bedroom down the hall on the left. His name is Garrett Wayne. The son of a bitch was my father and I just killed him.”
Startled by the shooter’s appearance and the instant confession, it took Corbett a moment to react. He was reaching for his handcuffs when Sophie jumped in.
“Wait. You don’t understand. There were extenuating circumstances. Garrett Wayne was molesting them. I only just found out about it myself, but it’s been going on for years.”
Cinnamon came forward, dragging Ellie with her. “This is Ellie. She and Wyatt are twins and have been molested by their father ever since they were babies. A couple of months ago Garrett Wayne raped Ellie and nearly beat her to death. She got pregnant and then had an abortion. When Wyatt found out, he sort of lost it.”
Wyatt pushed them aside. “Shut up, Cinnamon. You don’t have to tell the ugly story to the whole world—and leave Ellie alone. She can’t cope with this and we all know it.”
Doris stood by, her heart breaking for Ellie and wondering what the police were going to make of all this.
For a moment, Lee Corbett thought his cold medicine was causing hallucinations, then saw that his partner, Allen Paul, looked as confused as he felt.
“Turn around,” he said shortly, and handcuffed his shooter. Now they could talk all they wanted. “Fredericks
. . .
you and Stanton go look for the body.” He caught the housekeeper’s gaze. “Ma’am, what’s your name and relationship?”
“Doris Bailey. I’m the cook and housekeeper for the family. I’ve worked here for almost fifteen years.”
“Officer Paul will get your statement,” he said, then pushed Wyatt down on the top step. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I need you to sit down while I sort all this out.”
Sophie felt responsible. The children had been in her care and she had missed every warning sign. Guilt raised her normally high-pitched voice a good octave.
“You can’t arrest Wyatt. He was just protecting Ellie.”
Corbett shoved a hand through his hair. “Look, lady, I—”
Cinnamon interrupted. “Find the movies. Garrett Wayne made dirty movies of everything he ever did to them. You’ll see. He deserved to die.”
Corbett felt like he’d walked into the Twilight Zone. He pointed at Doris. “Mrs. Bailey, what the hell’s going on here?”