That was when she came to. She panicked at the sight of him there. “Why, Mitch!” she cried, pulling her nightgown tightly around herself. “Wh-What are you doing here in my…?”
“You were wandering in the night, Dolly. You were in my house.”
“That’s not possible!”
“I assure you it is. You came all the way upstairs to my room.”
“Oh, dear.” She swallowed, reddening. “I’m so sorry, Mitch. I do sleepwalk from time to time. I-I’m sorry to have put you to so much trouble.”
“Not a problem. That’s what neighbors are for.”
“Thank you for being so kind.” Her eyes softened now, her gaze holding his. She reached out for his hand and took it, gripping it tightly. She seemed very frightened and alone at that moment, very vulnerable.
And, suddenly, Mitch was keenly aware of just how awkward the silence was becoming. He remembered how she had felt in his arms. He realized how long he had gone without a woman. But he was also aware that it was a genuinely bad idea to go down this road. So he said, “Can I get you anything-a glass of water, another blanket?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m just so sorry I bothered you. Imagine what you must have thought…” She yawned. She suddenly seemed overwhelmingly sleepy. “Good night, Mitch,” she mumbled, burrowing under the covers. “And thank you.”
Mitch shut off the light and went back downstairs, only to discover he was not alone.
Bud Havenhurst was standing there in the kitchen in a silk bathrobe, glowering at him. “I saw the light,” he said to Mitch accusingly. “Just exactly what do you think you’re doing here?”
“She was sleepwalking. She came into my bedroom. I brought her home.”
“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”
“I honestly don’t care what you believe,” Mitch shot back. “But that’s what happened. I didn’t invite it. I didn’t enjoy it. And I sure as hell don’t appreciate where you and your dirty mind are going. So back off, understand?”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Havenhurst said hurriedly. “You’re absolutely right. I had no call to…” He ran a hand over his face, slumping against the kitchen counter. “I was out of line. My apologies.”
Mitch stood there studying him. “Are you always up at three in the morning watching your ex-wife’s house?”
“Old habits die hard. I learned to sleep lightly when she and I were married.”
“Meaning what, she does this often?”
“Look, she’s fine, all right?” Bud said wearily. “Everyone’s fine. So just go home.”
Mitch didn’t budge. “That woman nearly stabbed me in my own bed.”
Bud drew his breath in. “She had a knife with her?”
“She did.”
“I wondered, when all I saw all of the drawers open…” A horrible thought seemed to cross his mind now. “You aren’t planning to call Tal Bliss about this, are you?”
“I will if you don’t tell me what the story is.”
“Fair enough,” Bud agreed reluctantly. “Dolly has episodes. They come and go. There have been stretches where she’s fine for three, four years. And then-” He snapped his fingers. “She’s off to the races again. No one knows why. The shrinks at Yale-New Haven never could come up with anything concrete. ‘It’s an inexact science,’ was how they kept putting it. Care for a glass of milk, Mitch?”
“No, thanks.”
“I think I may have one.” He fetched it from the refrigerator. It came in a glass bottle from a nearby dairy in Salem. He poured himself some and sipped it thoughtfully. “This storm might have set her off. Wind scares her. Always has. Or she might still be upset about Niles. Hard to say. Apparently it all dates back to when she found the bodies of Louisa and Roy Weems. Did she speak at all? Did she say anything?”
“Just one thing: ‘The mother is hurt.’”
Bud nodded gravely. “That would be Louisa Weems, Tuck’s mother. Dolly was seventeen years old, Mitch. A sheltered and sensitive young girl. It was more than she could handle. The brutality, the horror. She was severely traumatized by it. It made her…” He broke off, pained by the memory. “She became a different person. She’d been a carefree, sunny girl up until then. Always laughing, full of fun. After that, she went into a dark depression. Had to be hospitalized for months, under heavy sedation. There was even talk of electro-shock therapy. Fortunately, she pulled out of it before that became necessary. But she’s still very, very delicate. Still needs to go on her medication from time to time. And she… she still acts up in the night sometimes. So I keep an eye out.”
“Did she ever attack you?”
“No, never,” he said quickly. “But she did go after Evan once. Or she tried to-with a steak knife. I stopped her in time, thank God, and we sent him away to boarding school. As long as it was just we two, I always felt I could control the situation.”
“What about after she married Niles Seymour?”
“He was told about it. Red told him. As far as I know, there were no episodes. Dolly was happy with Niles,” Bud added with ill-disguised bitterness. He finished his milk and rinsed out the glass, sighing heavily. “Well, now you know all of the family secrets, Mitch. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself. No need for anyone around town to know about it, right?”
Mitch stared at him a moment. Appearances. Gossip. That’s all that was on the man’s mind. All that he was worried about. “They won’t hear about it from me,” Mitch said.
“I appreciate that,” he said, looking around at the mess. “I’ll take over from here. Good night.”
The rain was starting to come down in windblown gusts as Mitch scampered back to his place. He found the bread knife on the floor next to his bed and put it away in a kitchen drawer. He had just climbed back into bed when it truly began to pour outside, the rain furiously lashing the house, gale force winds buffeting it. Mitch felt as if he were in a ship in an angry sea. After one particularly loud clap of thunder he heard a pop and Dolly’s porch light went dark. Downstairs, his refrigerator had gone silent. The power was off all over the island. Mitch burrowed under the covers, feeling curiously calmed by the violent storm. It made sense. It was real. He slept.
The worst of it was gone by morning, but it was still raw and drizzly out, the sky and the Sound an identical shade of pewter. He could hear a foghorn from somewhere in the distance. No boats were out. Not a one. And his power was still off, meaning he had no heat and no water-both the oil burner and his well pump required electricity. He climbed into his heavy wool robe and built a huge fire in the fireplace against the damp and the cold. His stove ran on propane, so he was able to light a burner with a match and boil some bottled water for coffee. He was huddled before the fire with a cup of it, feeling very groggy after his adventurous night, when the power finally came back on. He showered and shaved and dressed. He made himself some scrambled eggs and slab bacon and toast. He was just finishing up the dishes when he heard the clatter of a garden cart out on the gravel path.
It was Bitsy Peck, bustling along in bright yellow Gore-Tex bib overalls and green rubber rain boots, her cart loaded down with tray upon tray of seedlings. The woman had brought Mitch a small nursery. He went outside to greet her.
“Good morning, Mitch!” she burbled at him excitedly. “We seem to have Big Sis all to ourselves this morning. Red left at five A.M. for New York. Mandy hitched a ride with him. The boys are at their shop. Bud’s at the office. And Dolly’s at the dentist. I understand she paid you a little visit last night-she’s totally aghast. Embarrassed beyond belief. Afraid you might have gotten the wrong idea. That was quite some Nor’easter, wasn’t it? I do hope someone warned you that we almost always lose power. All it takes is one hiccough and poof. I can live without the lights but no shower, no toilets, no way.” She came up for air, puffing slightly. “I’ve been up since four, in case you’re wondering why I’m chattering away like a magpie.”