Hoss stood for a moment in the entryway to the great room, listening. Except for the sounds of Hop Sing in the kitchen, everything seemed to be quiet. He let out his breath in a slow sigh.
He was angry - he couldn't remember when he had last been so angry. Angry at Amelia for her little display at the funeral. Angry with Joe for telling him that cockamamie story about Adam and Amelia. And angry at…come on, Hoss - admit it…angry at Adam, for going and dying on him. Tweren't right, Adam - you said you'd always look out fer me. You SAID. He pushed irritably at the breakfront with his foot, winced as it slid a couple of inches across the floor. Damn. Had to watch that. Breaking up the furniture wouldn't help anybody.
He wrestled it back in place and moved toward the fireplace, fighting an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Something weren't right. Aside from Adam bein' dead, somethin'…he reached for the poker, shifted a log that didn't really need shifting. What were you doin' with Amelia Fairchild that night, Adam? Aint' nothin' in this world will ever convince me you were inerested in her - spent too many nights coverin' fer ya so's you could dodge her fer me ta believe that. So what'd she say ta ya ta get you to her room? An' how come I cain't let go of the idee that seein' her an' then dyin' ain't two unrelated coincidences?
He rubbed at the back of his neck, sighing again. He wished he had somebody to talk to about this - some way to sound his thoughts out until they were clear. Didn't dare get into it with Joe - he was too likely to go off half-cocked and get himself in trouble. Usually, he…he felt his face work, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight for a minute. Usually, he went to Adam with this kinda thing. Adam had a way of putting things in perspective for him. Or just hearing him out. He hung his head, turning his back on the fireplace. Rich smells were starting to filter from the kitchen and he automatically wandered that way, finally poking his head through the door.
Hop Sing didn't even glance up from the pastry he was rolling out on the table, but he asked, "Where Little Joe?"
Hoss moved further into the room. "Had somethin' ta do in town, once he finishes puttin' up the horses."
Hop Sing frowned. "Why he go town today? Not good."
Hoss shrugged uneasily. "He'll be all right, Hop Sing. Whatcha makin'?"
"Apple pie. For dessert."
Hoss nodded.
Hop Sing looked at him suspiciously. "You not snatch apples before I bake."
Hoss glanced indifferently at the blue bowl piled high with apple slices, fragrant with sugar-cinnamon. "Don't worry. Ain't especially hungry." Hop Sing's frown deepened, and he murmured something in Cantonese that Hoss couldn't make out. "How's Pa?"
"Him sleep."
"Yeah - good."
"Dream of brother - find out why him restless, maybe."
"Joe's been restless long as I kin remember. Jest natural."
Hop Sing gave him a withering look. "Other brother. Haunt father. Try to find out why."
Hoss's mouth dropped. "Huh?"
Hop Sing looked at him as though speaking to a very dim student. "Missa Adam. Visit fatha. Need to know why restless - why no rest in peace."
Hoss felt a shiver go down his spine. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I got that feelin' myself - that he ain't restin', somehow. Thought it was just because - well, thought it was just my own feelin's. But…you think there could be somethin' to that?"
Hop Sing stared. "Of course."
"Huh." Hoss leaned next to the bowl of apples, his face pensive. "So, you think maybe he might be restless if…well, maybe if, say, his death ain't been quite a accident? Somethin' like that?"
Hop Sing peered at him curiously. "Very good reason for ghost to walk. Why you ask this? What you thinking?"
"Well…" Hoss ducked his head, feeling a little foolish. "I - you - 'member that girl at the funeral? The one what grabbed onta Pa?" Hop Sing made a sound of disgust. Hoss nodded. "Yeah - her. I jest found out…well. Hop Sing, there's folks - trusted folks - what says Adam was up in her room right afore comin' back here an' gettin' caught in the fire. Now, I know how Adam felt about her - "
Hop Sing snorted. "Crazy girl. Missa Adam no take up with crazy girl."
Hoss brightened. "Now, see? That's what I think! Ain't no way! But these folks got no reason ta lie, so what I keep wonderin' is…"
Hop Sing stopped working his pastry and raised his eyebrows at him. "So you think, why then Missa Adam in her room?"
Hoss released his breath in a gust. "Yeah," he nodded vigorously. "That there's exactly my question. It just don't make sense. Or maybe it makes too much sense, if'n you look at things another way." He absently plucked an apple slice from the bowl and bit it, continuing to talk while he chewed. "I mean, don't it seem jest a might peculiar that Adam spent his last hours with a woman I know fer a fact he avoided, and by coincidence, she's also the sister of the man what swore revenge on Pa? The first person he suspected of the fire? Jest seems…peculiar."
Hop Sing's expression stilled. "Most odd," he agreed after a pause. "You think Missa Adam murdered?"
Hoss swallowed the apple slice with a gulp, reddening. "Now, I ain't sayin' that, exactly - I'm jest sayin' - well - somethin' ain't right."
Hop Sing nodded, mindlessly folding his pastry together and sprinkling flour on it. "Hop Sing agree. You tell father?"
"Pa? No - he's upset enough as it is."
"Little Joe?"
Hoss hesitated. "…some…but I don't want him goin' off half-cocked. You know how he is."
Hop Sing nodded again, dropping his pastry into a pie tin and unfolding it. "What you think you do, then?"
"I don' know…" Hoss automatically grabbed a handful of apple slices and gnawed at them thoughtfully. "Mebbe I gotta ask a few folks some questions."
Hop Sing tucked the pie crust neatly into the tin and started to pinch the edges. "Good idea. You ask living people, fatha ask Missa Adam - we find out what troubles him - what keep him here."
"Yeah," Hoss felt something tight and hard unwind inside him. "Yeah. It is. A real good idea." He grinned. "You know, Hop Sing - I reckon I'm a mite peckish after all."
Hop Sing glanced at his bowl of diminishing apple slices and rolled his eyes. "I see! I think maybe I need make pumpkin pie instead!"
*
Adam became vaguely aware of faint whimpering. For a moment he feared it might be his own, then he knew it wasn't - too high pitched. He struggled to identify it without taking the trouble to open his eyes.
"Oh, baby…oh, sweetheart, what have they done to you?"
Of course. Amelia. He pulled back deep inside himself and prayed she'd go away. Where had the Davids gone? He didn't hear them anywhere about. Had there really been two of them, or was he beginning a slow, relentless slide into madness?
"Oh…oh, how could they? Your beautiful mouth…"
His mouth? Was she kidding? Who cared about a little split lip? If she could see her way clear to do something about his hand, now - that would be helpful. Or his knee…
"He said he wouldn't mess you up…he promised me…he always does this…always ruins all my nice things…"
Nice things. Lovely. Thank you very much, Amelia. Funny, despite the gnawing pain of his injuries, his head was much clearer than it had been. Probably because no one had had a chance to drug him in a while. Not that a little something to take the edge off sounded entirely objectionable about now…
"I never could keep anything nice with him around…you have no idea…" She touched the damp cloth to his palm and he jerked, sucking in air sharply between his teeth. The jerk awoke a heretofore barely noticed thread of angry fire in his left shoulder and he gasped before he could stop himself.
Enough.
He was exhausted, battered; the drag on his arms and the cutting at his wrists was unbearable. For the first time, he felt like he really understood why animals caught in traps chewed off their limbs to escape. If he could think of a way to manage it, he would have tried it himself.
"Oh, I know, darling - I know. I'm doing everything I can…"
"'Melia…" the words sounded strained and halting to his own ears. "You've got to…cut me down."
"Oh, Adam, you know I would, but…"
"Amelia!" his voice had a desperate edge. "Please. Cut me down."
She clung to him and for a moment and he was drowning in a wave of sickness, whether from the sudden pressure on his wounds or her touching him so intimately he couldn't be sure. "Oh, Adam, you know how David is! He'd kill me! Truly, he would!"
Adam swallowed carefully, shuddering, his skin chilled and burning at the same time. You have a choice, Adam - he told himself grimly. You can hang here like a side of beef and let the bunch of them do whatever they want to you, or you can fight back. Remember - nobody will be coming to help - so by whatever means, you need to get yourself out of here. You need to get yourself home. He clenched his eyes tighter shut, picturing home for a minute…the great room fire…dinner on the table…the brandy decanter standing by for afterward…a book by his favorite chair…he felt Amelia snuggle more firmly against him, bit down on a prickle of revulsion. All right, then. Fire with fire.
"Amelia…" he made his voice as soft as he could manage with the dry throat and split lip. "Amelia, you have to get me down…" She must have noticed the change in his tome, because she became very still. It was a start. He took a deep breath. "I need my arms, Amelia..." God, don't let me choke on this..."I can't…touch you this way..." He felt her lift her head, pictured her studying his face. "I can't..." he swallowed. "Take you in my arms..."
Amelia's hand caressed his cheek, then, after a minute, she pressed a fervent kiss on his neck. Adam willed himself not to recoil. "I can't…do anything, while I'm…" he let that trail off, partly for effect, partly because the talking was using his precious reserves of strength.
"Oh, darling…" Amelia ran a lingering hand over his chest. Adam tensed himself to resist the urge to give her the same treatment he'd given David. "Oh, darling, I know…if only it weren't so dangerous…"
"Worth it…" Adam suggested, hoping his face didn't give away his real feelings.
"Hm…" Amelia's hands traveled over the straining muscles of his back. He wanted to scream at her to get her damn hands off him, but that wouldn't get him anywhere. "You wouldn't try to get away?"
"We could…both get away…" Liar, liar…"Together. From David."
"You'd run away with me?"
Something about Amelia's delighted tone was twice as scary as anything David had yet done to him, but he struggled to produce a smile anyway. It felt stiff and unconvincing, but he managed one. "Of course."
"Oh, darling…" Amelia tightened her arms around him. Adam ground his teeth together to keep from crying out. For God's sake, Amelia…take it a little easy! She must have felt him tense, because she let go suddenly. "Oh, did I hurt you? I'm so sorry…" she stroked his cheek again. "…lover."
Adam ground his teeth harder, trying to maintain his parody of a smile. As soon as I get home, he promised himself, I am going to take a bath every single day, with Hop Sing's strongest yellow soap and the stiffest brush I can find - every day, until I've forgotten the feel of her hands crawling on me. Until I feel clean again. He let out an inward sigh of relief as he felt her step back and away from him.
"But lover, I'm not sure I can do it without hurting you more. If I cut the ropes, you're going to drop and I don't think I'm strong enough to catch you."
I don't care! Adam was screaming inwardly. Just get me the hell down from here! But aloud he said, "That's…okay."
"How's he doin'?"
Adam wanted to weep with frustration and disappointment. He had been so close. They had both been so involved in their conversation that they hadn't even heard anyone come down the ladder.
"You're a fine one to ask!" Amelia's tone was snippy and indignant. "After what you did!"
"I didn't do nothin'! It was all David - heck it's the first I even saw the guy! I was just tryin' to clean him up some!"
Ah. Other-David. Go away, Other-David…I was just starting to make some progress here…
He could hear the suspicious pout in Amelia's voice. "You didn't hurt him?"
"'Course not! He ain't worth nothin' to me dead and…well…I ain't got the stomach for this kinda thing. It's…it's…disgustin'."
There was a thoughtful pause. "You think so?"
"'Course I think so! What kinda man do you think I am?"
Adam got his eyes open far enough to see Amelia shrug. "Just figured you were like Pa and David."
Other-David was staring at Adam, scratching thoughtfully at his own scalp. "This is what Pa was like?"
"Sure. Duncan…" Duncan. Pa. Another brother? It made sense, with that face, but how…? "Duncan. I need your help. You see what David did. I gotta get him outta here, or he'll kill him." Adam held his breath. "Please, Duncan - he's too heavy for me to do it on my own - I don't want to hurt him more. Once we're away and safe, we'll send you the money anyway - all for you - you won't have to split it with anybody. You know he's rich." Not bad, Amelia…keep going…"But it's gotta be now - before David gets back - please, Duncan…please…you're the brother I always wished I had…"
There was an endless pause. Adam tried to focus his wavering vision on Duncan's face, but his blank expression told him nothing. After a second, Duncan took a step toward him and he stiffened himself automatically, but Duncan didn't touch him - only stared, as though he was some complicated puzzle he was trying to work out.
"All right," Duncan drawled slowly after a minute. "All right. I'm gonna do it. But I'm warnin' you. 'Melia - if David finds out about this? You're on your own. I don't know nothin'."
