Part 22 (1/2)

”My G.o.d!” she said. ”I thought you were a goner for sure. Like that actress I was telling you about. Come on back to the hotel, hon, and I'll get you a good stiff brandy.”

Mark Ingram joined us backstage, looking like a gray lion, and not at all pleased with me. ”Are you all right, Miss Morgan? Can you walk? I must say that was a stupid thing to do.”

I had a feeling that my s.h.i.+n was bleeding, and I sat on the steps to the orchestra, to pull up my pants leg. New scratches ran down the leg-and they had begun to burn.

Ingram took charge, leading the way back to the hotel, while I walked with Hillary's arm around me on one side and Belle supporting me on the other. I could have walked alone. Mostly I was just shaky from my fright.

In Ingram's office behind the hotel desk I was seated on a sofa, with my leg outstretched, while Belle busied herself sponging blood away.

”What have you been doing?” she asked, looking at the raw patch on my knee.

I didn't answer. Oddly enough, now that my first moments of fright were over, I wasn't particularly upset. In a way that I couldn't explain I had again made contact with my childhood. Besides, anything that happened to me from now on, however disastrous, would pale when I compared it to that tunnel in the mine. To die was to die, but there were some ways more horrible than others. Or perhaps I was just getting too numb to feel anything at all anymore. The only active need I had was to get back to Morgan House to see my grandmother, and to talk to Jon Maddocks.

Hillary tried to rea.s.sure me. ”Don't look so stricken, Laurie. You held on fine, and everything's okay. You weren't ever in any real danger because I was right there.”

”I don't agree,” Ingram said. ”There was plenty of danger.”

249.

Belle, busy with her ministering, looked up, and I turned my head so that I could see Mark Ingram sitting behind the wide expanse of mahogany desk in his office.

”It begins to seem, Miss Morgan,” he went on, ”that you are accident-p.r.o.ne. I knew that old story of the deringer. Miss Cullen has told me. And I know about your memory returning, so you're aware of what happened in the past. Then there's the escapade in the mine this morning, with the door blowing shut -or whatever happened-so that you were almost trapped inside. Now, finally, this. You could have been killed if you'd dropped to the stage. Enough is enough. I don't want anything more happening to you.”

Belle spoke slyly. ”It will give Jasper a bad name if you get yourself killed around here, Laurie. Mark wouldn't like that.”

”What's this about the mine?” Hillary asked, and I remembered that I still hadn't told him. I only shook my head.

Ingram scowled at Belle and she subsided. When he looked like that, his benevolence was gone and he resembled a buccaneer, I thought-completely ruthless and without mercy. He was trying to frighten me off. If I wouldn't leave any other way.

”What about the mine?” Hillary insisted, but I cut in on him.

”How did you know about what happened?” I asked Ingram.

”Maddocks has been here. With some pretty strong words. I don't like what has happened any more than he does, but all this is something we can deal with among ourselves.”

”You mean you didn't send those men to beat Jon up yesterday?” I demanded.

Hillary pressed a hand on my shoulder. ”Take it easy, Laurie.”

”You're in no position to make accusations-either you or Maddocks,” Ingram said coolly. ”Not if you want your grandmother to stay in her house for whatever time is left to her.

and he'd drawn me to safety, he led me down the stairs to where Belle waited, her face white with shock.

”My G.o.d!” she said. ”I thought you were a goner for sure. Like that actress I was telling you about. Come on back to the hotel, hon, and I'll get you a good stiff brandy.”

Mark Ingram joined us backstage, looking like a gray lion, and not at all pleased with me. ”Are you all right, Miss Morgan? Can you walk? I must say that was a stupid thing to do.”

I had a feeling that my s.h.i.+n was bleeding, and I sat on the steps to the orchestra, to pull up my pants leg. New scratches ran down the leg-and they had begun to burn.

Ingram took charge, leading the way back to the hotel, while I walked with Hillary's arm around me on one side and Belle supporting me on the other. I could have walked alone. Mostly I was just shaky from my fright.

In Ingram's office behind the hotel desk I was seated on a sofa, with my leg outstretched, while Belle busied herself sponging blood away.

”What have you been doing?” she asked, looking at the raw patch on my knee.

I didn't answer. Oddly enough, now that my first moments of fright were over, I wasn't particularly upset. In a way that I couldn't explain I had again made contact with my childhood. Besides, anything that happened to me from now on, however disastrous, would pale when I compared it to that tunnel in the mine. To die was to die, but there were some ways more horrible than others. Or perhaps I was just getting too numb to feel anything at all anymore. The only active need I had was to get back to Morgan House to see my grandmother, and to talk to Jon Maddocks.

Hillary tried to rea.s.sure me. ”Don't look so stricken, Laurie. You held on fine, and everything's okay. You weren't ever in any real danger because I was right there.”

”I don't agree,” Ingram said. ”There was plenty of danger.”

249.

Belle, busy with her ministering, looked up, and I turned rm head so that I could see Mark Ingram sitting behind the wide expanse of mahogany desk in his office.

”It begins to seem, Miss Morgan,” he went on, ”that you are accident-p.r.o.ne. I knew that old story of the deringer. Miss Cullen has told me. And I know about your memory returning, so you're aware of what happened in the past. Then there's the escapade in the mine this morning, with the door blowing shut -or whatever happened-so that you were almost trapped inside. Now, finally, this. You could have been killed if you'd dropped to the stage. Enough is enough. I don't want anything more happening to you.”

Belle spoke slyly. ”It will give Jasper a bad name if you get yourself killed around here, Laurie. Mark wouldn't like that.”

”What's this about the mine?” Hillary asked, and I remembered that I still hadn't told him. I only shook my head.

Ingram scowled at Belle and she subsided. When he looked like that, his benevolence was gone and he resembled a buccaneer, I thought-completely ruthless and without mercy. He was trying to frighten me off. If I wouldn't leave any other way.

”What about the mine?” Hillary insisted, but I cut in on him.

”How did you know about what happened?” I asked Ingram.

”Maddocks has been here. With some pretty strong words. I don't like what has happened any more than he does, but all this is something we can deal with among ourselves.”

”You mean you didn't send those men to beat Jon up yesterday?” I demanded.

Hillary pressed a hand on my shoulder. ”Take it easy, Laurie.”

”You're in no position to make accusations-either you or Maddocks,” Ingram said coolly. ”Not if you want your grandmother to stay in her house for whatever time is left to her.

But that's not what I want to talk about now. Hillary, this morning Miss Morgan went in search of her dog on Old Desolate and managed to get herself trapped in the mine. Or thought she did. It was lucky for her that Maddocks was able to bring her out. Now I would like you to take her back to New York. When she has safely returned to where she belongs, you can come back here and get to work on the theater. With fewer worries to distract you. I'm going to commission you for the entire job.”

Obviously Jon hadn't told him about my finding bones in the mine, or he would have mentioned it.

”If the wind blew the door to the mine shut,” I said, ignoring his outrageous words, ”how did it manage to fasten the padlock?”

He smiled at me-a pirate's smile. ”I don't know what you're talking about, but did you examine the door after you got out to learn whether the padlock really closed it or the door just happened to jam? Isn't the latter more likely?”

Jon and I had not gone back to look at the door, and I felt an edge of uncertainty crowding in. Something I didn't want to accept. It would be too late now to go back and check. By this time, I suspected, the padlock would hang open and the door would really be jammed.

Hillary was silent, listening in amazement.

”In any case,” I said, ”I'm not leaving for New York. I'm staying right here, and I want to get back to my grandmother as soon as I can.”

”I understand she has gone into a coma,” he said. ”This may be serious.”