Behind The Veil

She had liked Becca from the moment she met her, already knew all about her from Elizabeth, Brie and Kat, three of Claire’s closest friends.

It wasn’t unusual that Becca had become part of the same circle of friends that Claire had shared all her life. Once Becca and Elizabeth had become friends, it was only natural that Elizabeth would introduce her to the others. Now they were all friends, and Claire would not stand by and watch while Becca made a horrible mistake.

Becca had no way of knowing the things that Claire knew. She couldn’t know how Dr. David Bryson had bewitched her friend Tasha Pierce, lured her into his life and led her to her death. Claire pictured Tasha as she’d been then. Vivacious, innocent, drunk on life. Both of them had been so excited over beginning their first year at Heathrow College.

Within a month of starting at Heathrow, the hopes and dreams vanished for both of them. Tasha had died. Claire had lived, at least that’s what the psychiatrists had kept reminding her. All she knew know was that she would not stand by and watch Becca fall into the same trap she’d stepped into during sorority rush week five years ago. A lifetime ago. Stepped into that dark mausoleum.

Stepped into hell.

Apprehension churned in her stomach. Becca would have to listen to her. She’d make her. The Bluffs was not the same as a mausoleum, but it could prove just as dangerous.

BECCA FILLED TWO MUGS with fresh perked coffee from the large pot in Threads and handed one to Claire. Claire’s hands shook as she took the cup, and Becca’s heart went out to her. She’d been through so much. Still, she’d been steadily improving over the last few weeks and months, and Becca hated to see her as upset as she was right now.

She reached out and laid a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “If you’re having a bad day, it might help to talk about it.”

Claire wrapped both hands around her cup. “I talked to Larry Gayle this morning.”

If Larry had been available right now, Becca would have gladly wrung his neck. “He shouldn’t have called you, Claire. Everything’s fine.”

“He didn’t call. Mother’s old Ford was sounding funny and she asked him to take a look at it. He’s good with cars, and planned to become a mechanic before he went to work in his dad’s hardware store. We talked while he was there and he told me about last night.”

“Larry Gayle talks too much.”

“You can’t go to the Bluffs, Becca. You can’t work for that—that beast.”

“Oh, Claire, he’s not a beast. He’s just a recluse, and if anyone here had reason to become one, it’s him. And he certainly can’t help the fact that he’s scarred. You surely don’t hold that against him.”

“No. This isn’t about the way he looks.” Claire set her coffee cup on the table and walked to the window. She stared through it for long, pregnant seconds before turning back to Becca. “You’re new in town, Becca. You weren’t here five years ago when the evil erupted. You didn’t know Tasha, how beautiful she was, how sweet.”

“I’ve heard you and her other friends speak of her. I know she must have been a very special person.”

“She was. And then David Bryson came into her life. He used his powers to seduce her—mentally, physically, spiritually. He was all she could talk about, all she thought about.”

“They were in love. It’s like that when you’re in love, or so I’ve heard.” She spoke tenderly, trying to ease the pain and fear that still claimed so much of Claire.

“Tasha was too young to be in love, especially with a man like David Bryson. She was naive and innocent, only eighteen. He was thirty-five, polished, sophisticated. But he was a fake. He’d grown up right here in Moriah’s Landing, the son of a woman who sold her body for men to—well, you know…”

“If you’re saying his mother was a prostitute, I’m sure he had no control over that.”

“It wasn’t just his mother. David was a hotheaded kid who was always in trouble. My mother remembers him, and so does everyone else in this town who’s over forty.”

“People change, Claire. David Bryson changed. He’s become a doctor. There’s no reason to think he’s anything like he was as a teenager.”

“Then how do you explain how he got the money to buy the Bluffs?”

“I’m guessing he earned it.”

Claire turned from the window and stared at Becca. Her long blond hair hung around her sunken cheeks and her blue eyes appeared haunted. That, combined with the paleness of her skin and her slim build, made her appear like an abandoned child much younger than her twenty-three years. She placed both hands on the cutting table and leaned forward.

“Please, Becca, even if you think David Bryson is harmless, stay away from him. A lot of people in this town believe he murdered Tasha.”

“I asked Kat about that when I first heard about him. She said there was never any real evidence against him and that eventually the explosion that killed Tasha was ruled an accident.”

“Only because they couldn’t find any evidence that it was a planted explosion, but the Pierces don’t think he’s innocent.”

“Oh, Claire, honey, the Pierces lost a member of their family. You can’t expect them to be objective about all of this. But from what I can tell, Dr. Bryson is just a man who’s had a very difficult life.”

“He’s not what he seems, Becca. Whatever he wants from you, it has nothing to do with redecorating his house.”

Claire’s voice trembled and Becca’s heart went out to her. She knew the story of how Claire had gone with Tasha, Kat, Brie and Elizabeth to the cemetery as part of a sorority initiation. The one who drew the piece of paper with the picture of McFarland Leary on it had to go into the haunted mausoleum. That had been Claire. While inside, she’d been abducted, and whatever had happened to her while she was in the hands of the madman had left her a shattered shell of the young woman she’d been.

It was no wonder she was so afraid of a mysterious man like David. But Becca had to make her own decisions this time, and she couldn’t base them on groundless fear. “I’m sure the Bluffs can use a little updating,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I have no reason to think that’s not the reason he came to me.”

“But why you, Becca? With his money he can hire a professional from Boston to come out and redecorate the Bluffs or hire one of the local interior designers. Why would he seek out a young seamstress without any experience in interior design? And why would he come to you in the dark of night instead of during shop hours?”

The questions Claire asked were all valid. Becca couldn’t deny that. The man could afford to hire anyone he wanted and yet he’d come to her. “I appreciate your concern, but…”

“But you’re not backing out of the job.”

Becca stared into her coffee cup, hating to meet Claire’s worried gaze. “I can’t, not yet, anyway.”

“See, he’s already gotten to you.”

Becca looked up. It was straight up ten o’clock, and a tall, neatly dressed gentleman was headed up the walk. She couldn’t deny feeling anxious and uneasy, but she also knew that she was going with David’s butler. She walked over and gave her friend a comforting hug. “I have to go now, Claire, but I’ll be home early tonight. Why don’t the two of us go for dinner at the Beachway Diner? I’ll tell you all about my visit to the Bluffs and you’ll see that I’m fine.”

Claire turned to the door. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Becca shook her head. “Dinner at seven.” She forced a smile as she escorted Claire to the door. “I’ll meet you at the diner, and don’t worry. Who’s afraid of the big, bad beast?”

“Me,” Claire said, but she squeezed Becca’s hand as she opened the door and stepped around the imposing man without even looking at him.

Becca held the door open. “I’m Becca Smith, and you must be Richard Crawford.”

“Yes. Are you ready for me to drive you to the Bluffs?”

“As soon as I lock up and put the Be Back Later sign on the door.” Luckily the owner gave her permission to set her own hours.

“There’s no hurry, but if I can be of assistance, just let me know,” Richard offered.

“That’s okay. I have everything under control.” She picked up a large sketch pad and a couple of sharpened pencils and dropped them into a canvas tote bag that already held her tape measure and a calculator.

Who’s afraid of the big, bad beast? The chant echoed in her head as she hung the sign over the hook on the door. In approximately half an hour, she’d step inside the massive stone castle on the top of the highest cliff in this part of the state, a structure that no one she knew had set foot in for the last five years. Hidden away from the city, in a world of secrets guarded by a stone fence and an electric gate. Just she and Richard and Dr. David Bryson.

Who was afraid now that the time had come?

She was. That’s who.

FROM A DISTANCE, the Bluffs was impressive and imposing. Up close and personal it was downright formidable. The stone was dark gray, scarred by centuries of gale-force winds, driving rains and the burning heat of summer. The curves and angles of the structure stretched out in all directions, large enough to house a small army, with turrets and parapets along the roof line and hideous gargoyles and ferocious creatures from some imaginary animal kingdom posed as silent, ominous guards over it all.