Whirlwind (19 page)

“A—a body? A dead—?”

“A person,” Cliff agreed. “I can't tell how long it's been here, but for a lot of years. You don't want to see it. Go back to the house. Get the truck and drive to the nearest telephone. Then call the police.”

“The police?” Horror and revulsion filled Liza with the speed of rushing floodwater. “What do we need the police for?”

“Liza,” he said severely, “just
do
it!”

The shock of hearing Cliff take command was enough to send Liza scampering back to the lodge. She fought down her fear as best she could. When she reached the veranda, her mother cried, “What is it?”

“A body,” Liza said unsteadily, trying to compose herself. “It's been down there a long time, Cliff says.”

“A body,” Alyssa repeated.

Liza heard her mother's tone, and it stopped her cold. Alyssa Baron wasn't surprised to learn a body had been dug up on the family property. She didn't sound shocked.

She sounded scared.

L
IZA FOLLOWED
Cliff's orders to the letter and drove to the nearest house in Tyler, then pounded on the door and asked to use the telephone. She phoned the police, then rushed back to Timberlake so she could guide the officers to the lakefront where Joe had been digging.

Alyssa must have left the lodge during the initial excitement, but Liza didn't notice her mother had slipped away until nearly an hour later, when she saw her grandfather arrive behind the police car.

Judson climbed out of his pickup, but didn't follow the police—Liza recognized Chief Schmidt and Brick Bauer—down the lawn. Judson stayed by the truck, gripping the open door. Suddenly he looked frail and shaken, like an old man.

“Granddad!” Liza hurried to his side. “What are you doing here?”

“Chief Schmidt called me,” he said gruffly, pulling himself together for Liza's benefit. “He said there was an emergency out here. It's my property, so I came.”

“There's no emergency. Maybe twenty years ago it was, but not anymore. Joe Santori was digging and—”

“I never gave you permission to dig up the grounds!”

“It's no big deal,” Liza snapped. “We're checking the water pipes, that's all. Except Joe found a body.”

Judson's sharp gaze traveled past Liza to the knot of men standing around the hole by the lake. His already pale face turned gray, and he asked hoarsely, “Whose body?”

“I don't know. Cliff won't let me down there.”

Judson cleared his throat. “Good man,” he said.

Warily, he turned to look at the lodge then. His eyes scanned the empty windows, the weathered roof and sagging porch with an expression that Liza read as ambivalence. He hadn't visited the lodge in forty years, Liza remembered. What kind of memories did he have of the place? she wondered.

Watching her grandfather's face harden, Liza guessed the memories weren't happy ones.

She stepped toward him and took his arm. “This is a historic day, I guess. Both you and Mother have come to the lodge for the first time since...when, I wonder? When were you last here, Granddad?”

“I don't remember,” Judson rasped, though it was clear to Liza that he remembered very well indeed.

“What's wrong, Granddad?”

“Nothing. It's—it's just a shock to see the place again, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk to the police?”

Judson glanced across the lawn again, his brow furrowing with pain as he watched the two police officers crouch down. “No,” he said more softly. “I don't need to go down there.”

Liza started to ask more questions, but Judson broke from her clasping hand and strode into the middle of the driveway. He seemed shaken, she decided. Or angry.

“Dear heaven,” he said, as if Liza wasn't there. “I never expected to feel this way.”

“What way, Granddad?”

He ignored her and walked to the veranda, his steps surprisingly uncertain for a man as vital as Judson Ingalls. Liza followed, suddenly afraid he might fall on the stairs. But he climbed them quickly, then stood on the old porch for a long moment, breathing the forest air in gulps and fighting
down the emotion that obviously threatened to overwhelm him. He seemed unaware that Liza had followed.

He stared at the glistening lake and sighed. “Margaret,” he said softly, “you shouldn't have gone.”

Then Judson turned on his heel and went into the lodge. Liza knew she should let him have his first look at the place in peace. But her curiosity was too aroused, so after a few moments, she followed her grandfather inside.

She found him standing in the middle of the hallway, looking at the debris.

“What's the problem here?” he demanded.

“No problem. I was trying to see if the room could be expanded. I guess it looks like a wrecking ball came through the window, but—”

Judson grunted. “A wrecking ball is what this place needs, all right.”

“Granddad, it's a beautiful building!”

He shook his head, growling deep in his throat.

Liza stepped closer so that she could see his face. “Are you having second thoughts about refurbishing Timberlake?”

“Maybe,” he said shortly. “If you ask me, some things in this world are better left buried!”

Judson didn't give Liza a chance to respond to that. Instead, he turned and made a quick tour of the downstairs rooms, glancing into the dining room and running his fingers clumsily over the keys of the piano in the lounge. Liza followed at a respectful distance, giving her grandfather a chance to wrestle with his memories. He seemed very emotional, despite his obvious effort to hold his feelings in check.

After stumbling across Margaret's things in the attic the night before, Liza found her own thoughts drawn to her grandmother. She had never really known what kind of relationship her grandfather and Margaret had had. Her family never spoke about it. They must have been in love
once, she thought, but how had Judson felt when his wife ran away? Had they quarreled? Had Margaret really run off to meet a lover? Or had Judson driven her away?

Why has Granddad never talked about her? Why the big secret?

Judson hesitated in the hallway, staring at the door to Margaret's bedroom, which had been left open the night before.

“Who's been in there?” he demanded.

“Cliff and I,” Liza answered at once. “We heard noises, so we had to look around.”

“What kind of noises?”

Liza shrugged. “Some junk in the attic was settling, I guess. I hope you don't mind, Granddad. I know you didn't want this room disturbed.”

“I suppose it doesn't matter now.” He pushed open the door and stood on the threshold of his wife's boudoir. On a quiet note, he said, “I never thought I'd see this room again.”

The portrait over the mantel caught his eye, and for the first time in forty years, Judson looked at the face of his wife. Margaret's picture smiled wickedly back at him, her long, fair hair curling innocently around her less-than-innocent face.

“She was a vain woman,” Judson said abruptly. “Who hangs a picture of herself in her own room except a woman like Margaret?”

Liza followed Judson into the room, but stayed near the doorway. “She must have had some good qualities, Granddad.”

Judson laughed sourly. “Oh, yes. Lots of good qualities. She was a beauty, of course. And a woman with spirit. She was a lot like you in many ways, Mary Elizabeth.”

“I'm not vain!”

“No, but you're impetuous. You like to take risks. She
was like life itself—full of exuberance and fire. “God,” he said, his voice rasping suddenly. “I miss her sometimes!”

“Granddad...”

Liza caught herself, unable to find words that could comfort Judson Ingalls. He gripped the bedpost and his shoulders slumped, as if weighed down by the memory of the woman he had once loved.

“Margaret,” he said. “I did love you. I know you thought otherwise, and God knows we had some terrible fights...” He laughed shortly. “The night you threw me out into the snow—remember that? I tried to walk to town across the lake and fell through the ice. I'd have died, but you followed me and...well, we ended up on a blanket in front of the fire for the rest of the night, remember?”

Liza froze. She felt more than ever like an intruder. And she felt another emotion she wasn't used to—guilt. Perhaps she'd been neglecting her family for too long.

Judson continued to speak, as if unaware that Liza wasn't the woman he'd married so long ago. He bowed his head and said, “I can't remember how our marriage started to fall apart. I thought we were wildly in love. Then... Well, maybe bringing you to Timberlake was a mistake. It was too isolated for a woman like you. You didn't have any friends here. And I...maybe I wasn't enough of a husband to make up the difference.”

Liza wished she could stop him. She had never seen her grandfather so upset. Judson was the strong one—the patriarch who ruled his family with an iron fist. His word had been gospel when she was growing up. But today he seemed broken. Were those tears shining on his rugged face?

Judson whispered, “Margaret, I'm sorry. For what I did to you, I'm sorry.”

Liza strode forward and seized her grandfather's hands. “Granddad, stop this!”

He looked into her eyes, and cried, “I hope you forgive
me, my love. I've forgiven you long ago. I don't care anymore about what you did. I wish it was over.”

“It's over, Granddad.”

Judson shook his head and turned away. “Sometimes I'm afraid it's only beginning.”

He blundered out of the bedroom, shoving blindly past Cliff, who had soundlessly come to the doorway.

Cliff said, “What's going on?”

“I'm not sure. Granddad, wait!”

Cliff caught her wrist, looking after Judson's departing figure with understanding in his gaze. “Let him go, Liza.”

“He's upset. Something's very wrong, Cliff. I don't understand.”

“Give him a break. He doesn't want to talk right now.”

“He thought I was Margaret!”

“No, he didn't,” Cliff said firmly. “Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. He was just rambling—letting off steam. He's an old man, Liza.”

Furiously, she cried. “No, he's not! He's as strong as he ever was!”

Cliff sighed. “Well, something's got him churned up, and I'm betting it's the lady of the lake.”

“The what?”

“The body Joe dug up.”

The wind knocked out of her, Liza sagged against the doorjamb. “What makes you think it was a lady?”

“I don't know,” Cliff said at once. “Just an instinct, I guess. Maybe I'm wrong.” He watched her, then used his fingertips to gently brush some wisps of hair away from her eyes. It was a tender gesture that spoke volumes. “You okay?”

Liza nodded and tried to relax. “I'll be fine. I'm just worried about Granddad. Something's wrong, Cliff. I can't figure out what got him so upset.”

“He hasn't been to Timberlake in a long time. Maybe seeing the place again caused him to snap.”

“There's a connection to Margaret,” Liza said, frowning hard. “I'm sure of it.”

Cliff met her gaze, and they stared at each other for a long frozen moment. Something clicked in Liza's brain, but she couldn't accept it.

“No,” she said to Cliff. “I know what you're thinking.”

“I'm not thinking it,” he said. “You are.”

“You don't suppose—”

“The lady of the lake is—”

“Margaret?” Liza breathed.

It seemed impossible. For years, she'd been led to believe that her grandmother had run away with one of her lovers, leaving her husband and young daughter, Alyssa, behind.

“What does it mean?” she asked Cliff.

“It doesn't mean anything,” Cliff said quickly. “It's your wild imagination at work again, that's all. The woman can't be Margaret. There's another explanation, I'm sure.”

“How will we find out?”

“The police have taken the body away. They'll see that some kind of autopsy is performed. We'll have some answers soon.”

“Cliff, I...”

His hands smoothed gently up her arms to quell her agitation. “It's okay,” he said.

“No, it's not! Oh, my whole family is so screwed up sometimes! I want Granddad to be himself again. My God, he's the only sane person in the bunch!”

Cliff smiled slightly. “Present company included?”

“Are you calling me crazy?”

“No,” he said at once, turning solemn. “You're a lot of things, but not crazy.”

Liza peeped up at him shyly. “You think that after you heard my argument with Mom this morning?”

“I wasn't eavesdropping, you know,” he said. “But you were bellowing loud enough to—”

“Don't tease me,” she said, slipping out of his grasp and turning restlessly into the bedroom. “I don't have a sense of humor where my mother is concerned. Damn, I wish she hadn't surprised me!”

Cliff folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the open door. “She didn't surprise you, Liza. You came back to town on your own, so you must have assumed you'd bump into her eventually. You just weren't ready to face the conflict.”

“You're right,” Liza said slowly. “I wasn't. I'm not sure I'll ever be.”

The trouble with Alyssa went back farther than Liza could remember. She had sensed tension from the beginning, it seemed, from the time she was a toddler. How could she have ignored the faraway look in her mother's eyes as she watched Liza play? Or the worry in her face when Liza got dressed up and went out on dates? Love. Pride. Anxiety. And fear, too. Liza felt all those emotions from her mother.

But the real problems surfaced during Liza's teenage years. Their relationship had turned volatile then.