Because You're Mine(65)

The woman stood to clear the table as if she hadn’t heard, though the clink of tableware against china wasn’t loud enough to drown out Alanna’s words. “Patricia?” Alanna moved closer, then stopped when the woman raised narrowed eyes to lock with hers. “Why do you hate me?” she whispered.

“You will hurt my son,” Patricia said. “Leave now before it’s too late.”

“I am not going to hurt Barry.” But if she left with Jesse, there was no doubt it would hurt Barry.

Patricia put down the plates with a clatter. “Barry deserves better than you can give him. Let’s drop the pretense. You know I hate you. I know you hate me. The most we can hope for is that you’ll come to your senses and leave before Barry is hurt. I’m going to do all I can to see that happen. You’re just like your sister.”

“My sister?” Alanna put her hand over her mouth and stared at Patricia.

Patricia took a step back. “I meant your mother. It was obvious from meeting her that she has no morals. And neither do you, or you wouldn’t have married a man you didn’t love. You’re using Barry, and I’m not going to allow it.” She picked up the stack of plates and stormed off to the kitchen. “If you knew more about Barry and what he needed, you would never have married him.”

But Alanna wasn’t thinking about Barry. Had Patricia met Neila? Alanna believed that her mother-in-law feared something. What? How could Maire or Neila hurt her? She claimed not to have met Maire before today, but the fear had been obvious from the moment Patricia laid eyes on Maire. None of it was making any sense. Tomorrow she would go see her great-grandfather at the Travellers’ village and see if she could understand this.

In no mood to talk to anyone, she went up the steps to her room though it was only eight o’clock. She paced the floor, then decided to go up to the ballroom and play her fiddle. The music would sooth her agitation and maybe even blunt her desire to go find Jesse.

The lights were off in the hall outside her bedroom door. She tried to turn them on, but nothing happened. Maybe the switch on the other end would work. The second floor was quiet except for the sound of her footsteps along the corridor. Running her hand along the plaster wall, she felt her way in the darkness until her fingers touched the light button. She pushed it, and light flooded the hall. She made her way through the labyrinth of hallways to the locked door where she paused.

It was so strange how Barry didn’t want anyone in there. His mother had said if she knew him better, she wouldn’t have married him. Staring at the door, she swallowed hard. Could there be information about all of this mess behind that door? She’d begun to fear Barry just a little, but it would take more information before she could turn her back on him. She twisted the knob, but the door was still locked. She took a bobby pin from the side of her hair where she’d pulled it back. After straightening it out, she leaned over and inserted it into the lock. Turning the pin this way and that, she tried to get the lock to open, but it held fast.

She was going to have to get the key. Maybe it was in Barry’s room. She retraced her steps and stood at the top of the stairs. Barry’s voice came from the living room. He was talking about the upcoming concert in Beaufort. She moved to his bedroom, pushed open the door, and turned on the lamp at the dresser. The austerity struck her again. It was like a monk’s cell.

She glanced around. Every table was bare except for the lamp and medicine bottles. Her husband was the neatest guy she’d ever met. She stepped to the dresser and slid open the top drawer. Underwear lay in neat rows. She found socks in the next drawer and T-shirts in the bottom one. No keys.

Moving to the bedside stand, she checked the top drawer. A couple of books, nail clippers, some tie clips, and an old high school class ring lay inside. Still no keys. And there was no other easy place to look. No, wait, the closet. She stepped to the closet and opened the door. His clothing hung neatly inside.

A set of keys swung from a hook on the door, and Alanna lifted them. She’d have to move fast. He might come up any time. She turned off the light and hurried down the hall to the locked door. There were six keys on the ring. The first three didn’t fit, but the fourth one clicked home. She checked the doorknob. It was unlocked.

Her pulse galloped in her chest. She didn’t know what Barry would do if he found her inside. She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to see what the room held, but her curiosity was strong.

She opened the door. Her hand felt the wall for the switch. Before she could turn on the light, she heard steps coming up the stairway. It was too late to go in. Pulling the door shut, she quickly locked it. She turned and started back to her room. When she rounded the corner, she saw Barry turning toward his room. He mustn’t find out his keys were missing. She clasped them tightly in her fist.

“Barry,” she called.

He turned with a smile. “What are you doing, sugar?”

“I thought I might play my fiddle, but I heard you coming up.” Was she sweating? Her forehead felt damp, and she was sure he could see the guilt on her face. “Were you looking for me?”

“I was going to work for a while before I went to bed. Did you need me for something?”

“I’m fine.” She hesitated. “Though it’s kind of dark and I had trouble with the lights. Would you mind getting my fiddle for me from the ballroom?”