Chapter 9: Conversations

Carolyn took another quick glance into the mirror in her room before she flounced down the hall to the bedroom her mother had given to Josette. She knocked once on the door, then poked her head inside.

"Josette, may I come in?"

"Of course, Carolyn," Josette said. She turned to the door for a brief minute to give Carolyn a smile, then returned her attention to the full length mirror she was standing in front of. She was wearing the flattering knee length, sleeveless red dress and the matching red heels that Carolyn had recommended to her at the store. Her hair was pinned neatly on her head.

Carolyn watched as Josette tugged at the hem of her dress and ran her hands awkwardly over her sides, and could tell that she could use some extra words of confidence. She moved to stand beside her and nodded her head appraisingly.

"You look fabulous in that dress."

Josette blushed.

"Thank you, Carolyn."

"Don't thank me," Carolyn shrugged. "I only speak the truth. However, I'm going to make a suggestion. You should wear your hair down. I don't think I've ever seen you wear it down, and I think it would look wonderful."

Josette reached up to her hair with one hand and let it linger by the pins that held it in place. She looked uncertain.

"Do you really think so?"

"I do," Carolyn said with a nod. "I think every girl needs to let her hair down once and awhile." She smiled mischievously, then added, "In more ways that one."

Josette stared into the mirror indecisively for a moment, appearing to consider Carolyn's remark. Then with careful hands, she unpinned her hair and let the curls cascade down her shoulders.

"You have gorgeous hair," Carolyn commented wistfully, twirling a strand of her own silky blonde hair around her fingers. Her hair was simple, straight and would barely hold a single curl.

"I love the color of your hair," Josette told her. "It's so light and -"

She stopped speaking suddenly, and Carolyn saw that a frown had formed on her face.

"Josette, what is it? Did you remember something?"

"Perhaps in a way I did," Josette said. "For an instant, I seemed to recall speaking with someone. A woman with golden hair only a bit darker than yours. I could almost picture her, but the image is gone from my mind now."

"At least that's something though. That's a good sign."

Carolyn thought that maybe it would be best if she were to remain optimistic. It seemed possible that Josette could regain her memory after all. Even the smallest memories could lead somewhere.

"Perhaps," Josette murmured, but Carolyn noticed that she didn't look as happy as she would have expected her to be.

"Well, it's a good thing Mr. Hamilton decided to be fashionably late this evening, or else we wouldn't have had the time to get ready."

"I am sorry about that, Carolyn," Josette apologized yet again.

"It wasn't your fault. You can't help that you got lost in the woods. We're just glad that nothing happened to you."

"I should have listened to Mrs. Johnson," Josette insisted. "She warned me that I should let someone accompany me and I disregarded her. I did not want to bother anyone, and truthfully, I wished to be alone for a while. My dream upset me and I thought that being alone would help me gather my thoughts."

Carolyn thought back on Jason McGuire, his blackmailing of her mother, and the revelation that her mother had thought she'd killed her father and buried him in the basement. She had needed that time away from Collinwood then, alone with only her mind. She probably would have gone mad if she had stayed in the house on the night of her mother's awful almost-wedding to Jason.

She sometimes wondered what had happened to Jason McGuire. He had disappeared from Collinsport without taking any of his things. Not that she actually cared. Whatever fate he had met in the end didn't concern her in the slightest. He was a despicable, heartless man.

"You don't have to explain yourself, Josette, it's perfectly understandable. I recently left the house without telling anyone where I had gone. I'd been going through a very bad time. I walked the along the beach for hours. It helped me sort out my feelings. If I hadn't taken the time to think and reflect on things, I'm not sure I would have gotten over everything that had happened."

"I'm grateful that you understand so well."

"Do you want to talk about the dream?" she asked her new friend with an upbeat smile, determined to leave the past where it belonged. "Talking can help, or at least that's what I'm told."

"Maybe it would. Even so, could we possibly do it at another time? There's something I wish to ask you."

There was a slight urgency in Josette's voice that caught Carolyn's attention.

"Sure we can. And you can ask me anything you would like."

"I wanted to ask you about Willie Loomis. No one at Collinwood has told me anything about him. It was not until I met him at the Old House that I even knew he existed. To be honest, I thought it peculiar because so many here have mentioned your cousin, and Willie told me that he works for him."

"Well, no one in the family cares much for Willie," Carolyn admitted with a sigh. "Before Barnabas hired him to work at the Old House, he was not a very nice man, and that's putting it politely. He did and said some horrible things to a lot of people here at Collinwood and in town. He seems different now though, I'll give him that. Barnabas must have changed him for the better somehow, though I can't imagine how he accomplished such a feat. Willie's actually very respectful, if a bit nervous all of the time. He's not at all like he used to be."

"He is very nervous," Josette said. "In fact, he was nervous to the point of being frightened."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

Carolyn knew that Willie was always fidgety and on edge. When she thought about it, she could see why Josette would label him as "frightened". At times, he really did appear to be.

How odd.

"He accused me of being a ghost when he saw me in the Old House drawing room. He was terrified of me at first. When he walked me back to Collinwood, he explained to me that I had reminded him of the girl that was killed, Maggie Evans. I suppose that makes sense, but I also received the impression that he did not want me remaining in the Old House. He seemed extremely eager to take me to Collinwood. He practically pulled me through the doors and out into the woods."

"He accused you of being a ghost…." Carolyn repeated, genuinely taken aback by Josette's story.

She hadn't realized that Willie would be so affected by Maggie's death. He hadn't had much contact with Maggie that she knew of, except for an occasional encounter here and there. She didn't think Maggie meant anything to him, so for him to get that upset over a reminder of her…..

It's just so odd!

Though she couldn't figure out a reason for it, his behavior towards Josette didn't surprise her. He had acted much in the same way when she and Victoria had gone to see the restoration work one afternoon several weeks earlier. He'd been incredibly intent on making sure that they didn't linger around the house for very long. It confused her then and it still did. Barnabas never seemed to mind anyone from the family coming over and even said that they could do so at anytime, so why would Willie mind so much?

Perhaps the more important question is whether or not there's a connection between his reaction to Maggie's death and his not wanting Josette to linger in the Old House….

What am I thinking of? Of course there isn't a connection. Willie's strange and he hasn't always been a good man, but he isn't a killer.

I need to stop letting my mind run away with me. I let that happen earlier when Vicki brought up Josette's resemblance to Josette Collins and that led me to hide the book without showing it to Josette.

I still can't come up with a reason for doing that...

"He didn't do or say anything to you that was offensive, did he?" Carolyn asked.

"Oh, no, not at all. He was very nice," Josette replied very quickly in his defense. "I was so thankful that he volunteered to walk me to Collinwood. I would never have found my own way back, especially in the dark."

"Mother and I were afraid something had happened to you. The attacks have only happened at night so far and…." Carolyn let her voice drift off into silence. She hadn't meant to bring the subject up with Josette. There was no need to scare her since she had made it back to Collinwood safely.

"I suppose I'm fortunate. Wandering alone in the woods near nightfall…. I could have been attacked as well," Josette said.

Carolyn could hear the fear behind her words.

"Josette, it doesn't matter. You're fine, and it's all over now," Carolyn assured her, then pressed her hands together. "Let's make a vow not to worry so much about it, and to just concentrate on having fun tonight. Does that sound all right?"

"Yes, it sounds fine."

Carolyn returned Josette's smile with one of her own, and then glanced at the clock on the table beside the bed.

"Mr. Hamilton's lateness isn't fashionable anymore," she muttered impatiently. "Something must be holding him up. I wonder if I should call the Blue Whale and find out if Burke knows anything. By the time he picks us up, the night will be over! Burke's probably livid by now."

"I'm sure he has a valid excuse for being so late."

"I've noticed something about you, Josette.You seem to assume the best about people," Carolyn said with a grin. "Left only up to me, he would get an earful as soon as he walked in those doors downstairs."

Josette laughed.

"I'm only basing that opinion on my brief interaction with him. I do not think it in his character to make us wait."

"True," Carolyn acknowledged. "He doesn't seem like the type. Still, you never really know about someone. Sometimes the person you think you know, you don't really know at all. I'd better go downstairs and phone the Blue Whale."

A part of Josette wanted to follow Carolyn downstairs to the drawing room and observe Carolyn's call, but she would have been far too embarrassed, and so she remained seated on her bed.

Her dream had roused her from sleep early, so she'd spent the better part of the morning exploring Collinwood. She did not venture beyond the main section of the house, but had roamed the halls and rooms, studying every detail in each of them.

Though she could not begin to imagine why, one of the things that had entranced her the most had been in the drawing room. She had simply stared at the telephone for a time, reluctant to pick it up for fear of doing something wrong, such as breaking it. Then she had recalled how Carolyn had lifted the top piece of the telephone into her hands. With a small burst of bravery, Josette had done the same. She had held it in front of her and struggled to comprehend why an ordinary object seemed to be so unnatural to her.

She thought that perhaps if she watched Carolyn use it one more time, she would learn how to use it as well, or even remember how to use it.

I had to have used one before. They are so common here. Everyone knows how to use them, even the housekeeper.

She was startled out of her reverie by David, who stood in the doorway with a huge, infectious grin on his face.

"Hello, Josette!" he greeted her excitedly. "I was hoping you were still here. I wanted to show you something. Can I come in?"

"You certainly can, David."

She smiled, despite her preoccupation with her missing past. She found David to be a charming, intelligent child, and he seemed to like her a great deal. In fact, when he was not taking lessons with Victoria, he often sought her out.

He had never explained why he'd grown so fond of her, but she suspected that it had something to do with that first day she had met him, when he'd come into her room and looked at her dress. She had not forgotten the way he seemed to be on the verge of telling her something, something that he may have considered important. She was still rather curious, but she never pressed him. She merely enjoyed his company. He was usually enthusiastic and cheerful, and it diverted her attention away from her troubles.

"You look very pretty. I've never seen you with your hair down before," David said. "Carolyn said the two of you are going to the Blue Whale to meet Burke and Vicki."

"We are indeed. And thank you for that wonderful compliment."

David had said exactly the same thing Carolyn had about her hair, but there was something about the way that David had said it that made it seem as though he meant it in a completely different context.

"I don't think you'll like it there," David informed her.

Josette raised her eyebrows at his curious comment.

"Oh? What makes you think that?" she asked, genuinely interested in his answer.

"Oh, I don't know. It just doesn't seem like the type of place you would like to go," he said with a shrug.

"Well, I suppose we shall see after tonight, won't we?" She folded her hands in her lap and repositioned herself on the bed so that she was facing him. "Now, what is that you wanted to show me?"

"My drawing," David announced proudly. He unfolded a white piece of paper and handed it to her.

She stared down at a rather detailed sketch of a woman in a gown not unlike the one she had stored away in a drawer on the other side of the room. It was long sleeved with a train that flowed along the ground. It took her a moment to recognize that it was a wedding gown, and then she noticed that the woman wore a veil that obscured her hair and face.

There was nothing around the woman, so there was no setting for Josette to place her in, and yet she felt that the woman depicted in the drawing seemed to be sad.

In mourning.

"I showed it to Vicki earlier today and asked her if she thought that the woman was happy. She said that the woman was getting married and that it was a celebration, so she should be happy. I wanted to show it to you and hear what you thought. What do you think, Josette?"

Josette gazed thoughtfully at the picture, then gave voice to the images of a woman waiting for a life she would never live that echoed inside of her mind.

"I would say that she is stricken with sorrow and loss. That she is in mourning for the man for whom she wore the wedding gown, and that her only true wedding was the one in her dreams. Her love is gone, and she is not much more than a ghost herself, haunting the landscape of a lonely world. A remnant of time past."

She had not planned on being so honest with David about her feelings of the woman he'd sketched, and was quite confounded by her rather morbid description. For a reason unknown, his drawing resonated very deeply with her. The softly shaded lines on the paper seemed to etch themselves sharply onto her soul. She felt connected to the woman in the wedding gown.

The woman in mourning for what she had lost.

"David, may I keep this? You do not have to let me keep it if you would rather have it, but I would very much like to keep it."

Josette waited patiently for David's answer, not at all sure of what he would say. He appeared surprised at first, then he smiled and nodded his head vigorously.

"Sure! I made it for you! I'm glad you like it and want to keep it. And I liked the way you described the woman. That's how I wanted her to appear - sad, I mean." He looked at the clock and scowled. "I better get back to my room before Aunt Elizabeth finds out I'm not in bed and comes looking for me. Goodnight, Josette."

He bounded out of the room before she could even open her lips in reply.

She looked at the picture again, more positive than ever that there was something David wanted to say and either could not, or would not, say it. She gently refolded the paper and placed it on her vanity.

Staring self-consciously at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered why she would be more comfortable in the white wedding gown in David's drawing than in the short red dress that she was currently wearing.

Did I lose someone?

Someone for whom I wore a wedding gown?

When Willie returned to the Old House, he found Barnabas in Josette's room.

Barnabas's eyes were glued so intently to the portrait of Josette in the antique wedding gown that it almost seemed as if he thought he could bring her back to life with his dark gaze.

Maybe he really can. Maybe he has already. Maybe that pretty girl I just walked back to Collinwood really is Josette du Pres. She said her name was Josette. She sure looks like Josette. Maybe she is Josette… But it ain't possible! Nobody's got that kind of power, not even Barnabas! It ain't possible to bring a woman back that's been dead for that long! It's just a coincidence that she said her name was Josette. And it ain't gonna matter anyway, 'cause if she listens to me, she'll leave town and Barnabas will never know about her.

I can't let him know. I can't make him suspicious. I gotta face him and keep calm. I gotta do it for Maggie, to make up for not bein' able to save her . I gotta do it for the girl, whatever her real name is. And I gotta do it for Josette du Pres herself, 'cause she wouldn't want anymore girls dyin' in her name.

Willie stood fearfully in the doorway to Josette's room and tried to work up the nerve to speak.

He fully expected Barnabas to punish him. He had prepared himself for the worst during his walk back to the Old House through the woods. He'd even taken his time because he figured the damage was already done. Barnabas had given him strict orders to always be in the house during the daylight hours unless he was given something to do.

Barnabas didn't like not knowing where Willie was, and always expected Willie to be in the Old House when he woke up.

"I am vulnerable while I am in that coffin, Willie. As much as I despise doing so, I must rely on you to guard me during the day when I am helpless," Barnabas had told him in a tone so bitter that it had made him feel chilled for hours afterward.

Barnabas never liked to admit that he could be vulnerable. He saw vulnerability as weakness.

I bet he don't know it, but he's lookin' pretty vulnerable right now, starin' up at the portrait like that.

Willie had gotten to know Barnabas's moods pretty well, which wasn't all that surprising since his life had come to depend on them. He had to know when to talk and when to be quiet.

Especially when to be quiet.

Lately though, Willie had noticed changes in Barnabas. He rarely visited Collinwood anymore, and spent a large portion of the night hours brooding silently in his chair in the Old House drawing room, or pacing in Josette's room and staring at the things that reminded him of her. He seemed increasingly distracted, and even withdrawn. He hadn't gone into town nearly as much as of late, and as a result, there had been no recent news of women being attacked.

While Willie was extremely thankful for that, at the same time, it only heightened his anxiety and sense of foreboding.

Everything was too silent, too still. It was the calm before the storm, and he knew the storm was coming. It was only a matter of time before it hit.

I just hope that girl up at Collinwood ain't anywhere near here when it does.

"So I see you have decided to return at last."

Barnabas's voice cut into Willie's thoughts the way a knife would slice into a man's skin, splitting them apart so seamlessly that Willie could barely recall how they had originally been pieced together.

Barnabas had spoken to him without removing his eyes from Josette's portrait, and Willie's mouth opened briefly, then closed. He was unable to find the right words, or any words at all. There was nothing he could say that Barnabas would believe. There was no use trying defend himself.

Barnabas finally turned away from the portrait and fixed Willie with a glare that made a tremor tear through his body.

"Have you lost the ability to speak? Pity, as I would have liked to hear the excuse for your absence. However, since you cannot provide it to me, I shall provide a most invaluable warning to you. The next evening that I awaken to find you mysteriously missing from this house, you will not live to see another. Is that understood?"

Willie nodded and swallowed back his fear.

"Good. Leave this room."

Willie didn't have to be told twice. He hurried from the room and down the stairs without looking back, too relieved that Barnabas hadn't punished him to spare much of a thought as to why.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and was about to go into the drawing room when he noticed that the basement door was hanging wide open. He knew that no one could have gotten into the house while he had been upstairs talking to Barnabas, which meant that Barnabas had to have left the door open when he had come up from the basement at sunset.

Weird. Barnabas ain't never left the door open before. Maybe I should go down there and make sure everythin's alright.

Willie crept carefully down the stairs. The few candles that were lit didn't give off nearly enough light and he paused to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Once he could adequately see he glanced about the cavernous room, and then at the coffin that sat in the center of it.

Willie had never been bothered by coffins before. He hadn't been scared of them the way that many people were. A coffin had been nothing more to him than a wooden box that a person was buried in when they died.

Like everything else in his life, that had changed with Barnabas.

He would never look at a coffin the same way again.

He approached Barnabas's coffin with dread, and also a small bit of fascination. He had seen coffins before, but none of them were like the one in front of him. The wood was smoother, carved more intricately. No one he'd ever known had been buried in a coffin like the one that belonged to Barnabas.

Barnabas had come from a family with money. A lot of money. It was Willie's thirst for that money that had brought him to the miserable life he was currently leading. He had always been poor. When Jason had come along, Willie had went with him willingly. Jason was always after someone else's fortune, and Willie had been fine with that because back then he'd thought that there was nothing worse in the world than being poor.

Shows ya what I knew… I was so stupid. So damned stupid.

Willie let a ragged sigh escape from his throat, and looked back at the stairs. He didn't want to spend any more time in the basement. It reminded him of the mausoleum on Eagle Hill. Discovery and death. And obviously nothing was wrong, or he would have noticed something-

He did notice something.

He stilled, not quite knowing what to make of it.

The lid of the coffin wasn't sealed, but was opened slightly, just enough for Willie to see what looked to be a piece of shiny, tangled fabric hanging down on the outside. He frowned and stared at it curiously before he pulled the lid all the way open.

His eyes widened when they landed on the inside of the coffin.

The satin lining was shredded into torn and tattered strips, as though shaking, frantic hands had raked and clawed at it over and over. He could even make out long, thin scratches that were deeply embedded into the wood.

What happened? Why did Barnabas do that?

He must have said his thoughts aloud, because Barnabas answered him.

"As you can see, dusk was rather…difficult for me this evening. I awakened the same as I have every night, but I could not rise from this coffin. A force that I do not understand overpowered me, kept laying inside of it. I called for you. I screamed, but you did not come because you were not here."

Barnabas paced the length of the cellar the way an animal would its cage. His voice was low and cold, but for a moment there was a slight crack in it, one that most people wouldn't even catch.

But Willie wasn't most people. For better or worse, and usually it was for worse, Willie knew Barnabas. That moment was all it took for him to realize just how shaken up Barnabas was. He could even see it in the way Barnabas moved, how he kept his eyes from his coffin.

He's actually afraid...

"But that don't make no sense, Barnabas. What coulda done that to ya? It ain't never happened to ya before, right?"

"Of course it hasn't, Willie!" Barnabas paused in mid-stride to snap at him.

"Barnabas," Willie began haltingly, almost too terrified to say what he was about to. "Ain't it possible that it didn't happen at all, that ya….I don't know…" he faltered.

"Imagined it?" Barnabas finished Willie's sentence with fury in his eyes. "Are implying that I have gone mad?"

Willie backed away from Barnabas, using the coffin to place a useless distance between them. It was a pointless action and he knew it. If Barnabas was going to attack him, the distance wouldn't matter.

"Now I ain't sayin' that at all, Barnabas," Willie said hurriedly. His heart raced in his chest, pounded hard enough that he wondered if Barnabas could hear it from where he stood. "It's just…well, a lotta things have been happenin' lately, that's all. I mean, things like Maggie, and the little girl, Sarah….all of it's bound to get to ya, ya know?"

Willie saw Barnabas's jaw clench and his narrowed eyes grow even darker than he would have thought possible, and swallowed hard.

I probably shouldn't a mentioned Maggie, and I definitely shouldn't a mentioned Sarah. I shouldn't a mentioned that he's goin' crazy either. Sometimes I think I'm crazy, or I would think before I just come out and say somethin' like that!

It's a good thing I didn't mention that I know about Josette's grave bein' gone….

"I assure you, Willie, that I am not mad. I must caution you not to propose such a proposterous and insulting thing again, if you value what is left of your pitiful existence."

"I won't," Willie whispered, wishing he hadn't said anything at all. He wished he hadn't even noticed the basement door being open. He wasn't sure how much more of his own fear he could withstand.

Too much had happened too fast. Finding the girl in the house, hearing that she called herself Josette, Barnabas being upset about the coffin….

Something occurred to Willie then, something strange that still made some sense to him.

Barnabas said he felt like somethin' was holdin' him down, keepin' him trapped in the coffin even after he woke up. That was when I was takin' the girl back to Collinwood. Was someone doin' that to Barnabas to give me time to get her away from here? To keep him from seein' her?

It coulda been Sarah. She came to Maggie when Barnabas had her locked up down here. Maybe she didn't want anythin' to happen to another girl.

Willie didn't know much about Sarah Collins other than that she was a ghost, but one thing he knew for sure was that Barnabas had cared for her, genuinely loved her - something that still had the ability to surprise him. He would never forget the way Barnabas had talked about her in the mausoleum the night they had buried Jason's body.

He might kill me for suggesting that Sarah would do that to him…

He watched as Barnabas finally gazed down at the coffin. He didn't miss the fearful uncertainty as it crossed Barnabas's face for a single second, only to disappear and be replaced by the emotionless mask that Willie knew so well.

It was the first time though, that he could see through that mask so easily.

He averted his gaze to the coffin, and then to the walls.

Out of the corner of his eye Willie saw Barnabas turned away from the coffin as though he couldn't stand the sight of it any longer.

They lingered there in the cellar in silence. Willie was too nervous to say anything, or even to walk up the stairs. In order to get to them, he would have to pass by Barnabas, who stood there facing them as still as the stone graves on Eagle Hill.

"After I was able to free myself, I went into the drawing room," Barnabas said suddenly in barely more than a murmur. Willie had to strain to hear him. "I sensed her presence, Willie. I sensed her presence so strongly that I am certain she was there. She was there when I was trapped inside of my coffin, struggling to escape."

"Who?" Willie asked in confusion, startled that Barnabas was talking again.

"Josette."

Josette.

Willie's stomach dropped down to the bottom of his feet and rolled like waves did in the ocean. He wanted to pretend he hadn't heard Barnabas speak that name, but he couldn't manage it. Pretending was too much work. His heart was hammering, his head was beginning to ache, and his stomach showed no signs of calming.

"Ya know that ain't possible, Barnabas," he muttered, after he'd mustered up the courage to speak.

"Are you so certain, Willie?" Barnabas turned and sent him a withering, hardened stare that seemed to soften ever so slowly. "I would not have thought it possible for little Sarah to come back, and yet I cannot ignore that she may have done just that. Why should Josette be any different?"

Willie shook his head and ran sweaty hands through his hair.

"Barnabas, Josette killed herself. Why would she wanna come back here to -" Willie stopped himself just in time and thought of a better way to phrase his question, "this house?"

Willie was aware of the risk he was taking, but he had to do something, anything, to keep Barnabas from thinking about the presence he had sensed in the drawing room.

The presence that could only belong to the girl.

The girl with no other name but that of the one person whose name placed her life in danger.

The name of Josette.

"Willie, I no longer wish to discuss it."

Barnabas's tone left no room for further discussion, but Willie couldn't help himself. In his desperation, he was unable to keep the words from tumbling past his lips.

"Josette's gone, Barnabas, she's dead! She wouldn't wanna come back, 'cause she killed herself to get away! Whatever ya sensed, it couldn't a been her!"

Willie squeezed his eyes shut and waited to die. He waited to hear Barnabas approach him. He waited to feel those cold, familiar hands lock themselves into a steel grip around his throat. He waited to breathe his final breath.

He heard nothing. He felt nothing. Each breath came as easily as the last.

He opened his eyes to find Barnabas staring at him with an expression of intense hatred, rising rage -

And utter misery.

"Go, Willie. Go and leave me alone."

Willie Loomis knew an order when he heard one.

The one he had just received sounded more like a plea.