The Curse of Bloodstone. V. J. Banis

windows. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought the day was suddenly darkening. It seemed an impossibility. Surely it was merely her mood and her imagination.

      Again the sound of distant, ominous thunder echoed over the sea, like a warning.

      CHAPTER TWO

      Savage ocean waves crashed and pounded against the high sea cliff, gnawing away at its foundation. The angry, howling wind whipped up over the bluff and across the housetops. It toppled chimneys, ripped shutters from houses, doors from hinges, uprooted trees and fences as it cut a path across the village of Skull Point. The people of Skull Point had not seen the likes of such a storm since the night Vanessa Mallory went away, five years before.

      And now, Vanessa Mallory was back, or at least Simon Caldwell said so. When Simon told them the news, they stared in disbelief. Such news was almost as frightening as the hurricane that threatened to tear them from their homes. Simon Caldwell must be mistaken, they thought. It just couldn’t be so. Vanessa Mallory could not have returned to Skull Point. Vanessa Mallory was dead.

      “I saw her,” Simon Caldwell insisted. “I saw her with my own two eyes, I tell you. I watched her landau barrel over the stone bridge at the end of Noah Bingham’s property, streak down Willow Lane, and race straight through the center of town—toward Bloodstone.”

      The small, select group of townspeople who were clustered around the great open fire in Simon Caldwell’s kitchen just continued to stare at him. Simon saw the disbelief in their eyes. “You wouldn’t be thinking me to be a liar?” he challenged.

      Jenny Hastings gave Martha Wilkins a questioning glance; Martha shook her head, cautioning Jenny to keep her thoughts to herself. Jenny gave a resigned sigh and nodded. They knew better than to disagree with Simon Caldwell. This was Simon’s house, their refuge from the storm; the newest and strongest brick-and-mortar building in all of Skull Point; their only stronghold against the fury of the hurricane that raged outside.

      Simon Caldwell, their appointed mayor, didn’t offer the safety of his house without reason, and more than mere loyalty would be expected of them once the storm was spent. Simon would expect repayment—not always direct monetary payment, of course, but payment of a type that would make them forever dependent upon Simon Caldwell for the livelihood of the town as well as for themselves.

      There was Noah Bingham’s house, of course. But Noah Bingham was merely a fisherman and not quite on their social level. Besides, Noah lived at the other end of town and took no interest in their social and political affairs.

      Of course there was the Mallory mansion—Bloodstone. They might seek shelter there. After all, Bloodstone was a larger and stronger refuge than either Noah Bingham’s or Simon Caldwell’s. The old stone mansion on the bluff had withstood more violent storms than anyone could remember. But no one went to Bloodstone. Death lived within its walls.

      “I tell you, I saw her,” Simon Caldwell said in the face of their doubtful expressions. “She had that old Cajun woman with her, Tutrice.”

      * * * *

      Noah Bingham had seen Vanessa also.

      Noah’s house, like Simon Caldwell’s, was crowded with neighbors huddled together to ride out the storm. They weren’t of the social ilk that Simon Caldwell attracted. They were farmers and fishermen who lived on the periphery of Skull Point—the hard-working people who never bothered much with the affairs of their so-called “city cousins” who lived in the town proper.

      No one argued with Noah’s announcement. If Noah had seen Vanessa Mallory, then Vanessa Mallory must indeed have returned to Skull Point...to Bloodstone.

      “Then she isn’t dead,” Zeb Brewster said.

      “Appears not, Zeb. I saw her real clear, and that old Indian woman was with her.” Noah shook his head slowly. “I can’t tell you where she come from, but she’s back all right.”

      “But she was drowned,” Brewster’s wife said. “Five years back.”

      Noah shrugged. “That’s what they said, Caroline. But I saw what I saw. Vanessa Mallory rode over my bridge no more than a few hours ago.”

      The wind suddenly started to pound more violently against the outside of the house. They heard a shutter being ripped from its hinges. A window shattered somewhere in one of the upstairs rooms.

      Noah’s wife gasped and quickly got to her feet.

      “No, Ruth. You’d best stay put. No tellin’ what’s going on in the rest of the house. We’re safest here in the kitchen.”

      Ruth gave her husband an anxious look. “I’ll just go into the next room and make sure the children are all right.”

      Noah nodded. The overhead beams creaked and groaned. “She left in a storm just like this one,” Noah said. “It was this time of year too...almost to the day.”

      * * * *

      In Simon Caldwell’s kitchen the elite of the town did not worry about their heavily boarded windows. There was no reason to worry; everything was safe and secure. The howling of the storm didn’t seem to interfere with the whispers that buzzed among them. Even their own individual houses seemed to be of no importance. What was damaged, Simon would see was repaired. What was irreparable, Simon would see was replaced. The land would remain, and that was all that was of significance. The land was theirs and no one, not even the heavens themselves, was able to take that away from them,

      But the return of Vanessa Mallory brought fear into their souls. The land once belonged to the Mallorys. Vanessa might make claim to all these properties now that she wasn’t dead and had returned to Skull Point.

      Martha Wilkins expressed her fears openly.

      “How can she make claim for the land?” Jenny Hastings asked her. “Her parents deeded it over to the town.”

      “That’s right,” her husband agreed. Sam Hastings never disagreed with anyone, especially his wife. “Even if she isn’t dead, Vanessa can’t take what is rightfully the town’s own property.”

      Simon Caldwell shook his head. “Vanessa’s back to make trouble though,” he predicted. “The Mallorys always make trouble.” He sucked air through the gap in his front teeth. “But everyone here has a stake in Skull Point and we’ve been doing pretty good since we took over the Mallory properties. Noah Bingham and his crowd don’t give a hang about what happens here; all they care about is their precious little boats and farms. It’s up to us to stand up to Vanessa if she intends to make trouble for us.”

      Everybody was quick to agree, all nodding their heads and mumbling their support for whatever Simon intended to do. The town had prospered since the Mallorys relinquished the land to them. None of them wanted to lose any of the advantages they had gained from such transfer of title.

      * * * *

      Noah Brewster wasn’t worried about Vanessa making trouble. He reached for his pipe and stuck it between his teeth. His bright, handsome eyes danced as the flame of the match touched the tobacco bowl. He sucked in his fat cheeks as he puffed the pipe to life. “Old Simon must be fit to be tied,” he chuckled.

      “Do you think he knows Vanessa is back?” his wife asked as she closed the door that connected the children’s room and the kitchen.

      Noah chuckled again. “Simon knows all right,” he said. “Old Simon don’t miss a trick.” He sat back down on the stool and put an elbow to a knee and leaned toward the fire.

      Zeb Brewster suddenly got to his feet and started pacing. “It’s all well and good for you to think lightly of all this, Noah,” Zeb said. “You ain’t got no interest in the land. You’re a fisherman. Your boats and tack is all you care about. But what about me and Jonah here? We work our lands and we’ve been doing pretty good since old Simon’s been running things.”

      Jonah Black and his wife, Rachel, sat at the large, square kitchen table that had been pulled up close to the hearth. “Yes,” Jonah