Sick of Shadows by Sharyn McCrumb Page A
Authors: Sharyn McCrumb
Dr. Shepherd had arrived and was having coffee in the library.
Immediately her face froze into a chilling smile that did not reach her eyes. She strode briskly into the library with cordial noises and outstretched hands that did not waver even after she had seen the yellow Jung tee shirt.
“Such a privilege to have you!”
Dr. Shepherd apologized for his early arrival, attributing it to an “unforeseen accident in a national park,” and Amanda was all sympathy. She refused to hear of his plans to stay at the Chandler Grove Motel.
“Why, we have more room than they do!” she assured him with an arch smile. “And please don’t think I’m being kind! Why, I’m just as selfish as I can be. I want to have you right here where we can get to know you. And, anyway, some of our out-of-town wedding guests just may need those motel rooms, so there! It’s all settled. You’ll stay here.”
Shepherd, unused to the blitzkrieg form of Southern hospitality, succumbed in a puzzled voice, and shambled off to his car to collect his belongings. When he had gone, Amanda’s smile vanished.
“What can Eileen have been thinking of?” she murmured, glancing at him through the window. “He can’t possibly understand the problems of—of—”
“Of what, Aunt Amanda?” asked Elizabeth.
Remembering that her niece was present, Amanda summoned the wraith of her previous smile. “Why, Elizabeth!” she purred. “You’re going to think I have a silly old thing against Yankees after all these years, but really! —Oh, dear, could you just run out to the kitchen and tell Mildred that there’ll be another guest for dinner? I’m afraid she’ll be cross, but tell her that we are simply martyrs to the unexpected!”
“Martyrs …” murmured Elizabeth, shaking her head as she left. Bill would never believe that line!
She was on her way back from the kitchen when Shepherd appeared again at the front door with a brown suitcase and an armful of books.
“Would you like me to carry something?” she offered.
He shook his head. “I bet I have to go upstairs, right? Upstairs?”
“That’s right. Third bedroom on the left.”
He deposited his belongings in the hall chair. “It can wait. Boy, this is interesting. Seeing people in a social context that I’ve been hearing about for months!”
Elizabeth gasped. “She didn’t! I mean—I wasn’t mentioned, was I?”
Shepherd grinned. “People always ask me that. And I really can’t tell you. Honest. I’ll bet I hear that question ten more times while I’m here.”
“I’ll bet you do.”
“Where’s Eileen?”
“Down by the lake, I guess. She’s working on a painting to give to the groom. Don’t ask me what it’s like, because none of us have seen it.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you think that’s normal?”
“Sure,” said Shepherd cheerfully. “It would take the drama out of the gift if everybody saw it beforehand. That’s a common reaction. Is the groom around?”
“He’s at the library. Do you know him well?”
“Oh, no. Met him once. He came to pick up Eileen after a session.”
“Well, you’ll meet everybody at dinner.”
“Including
him?”
he asked, gesturing toward Albania.
“Very possibly,” said Elizabeth, “but don’t be surprised if he turns out to be sane.”
“Listen,” said Shepherd, “when you’ve got that much money, you’re not crazy. Just eccentric.”
At the other end of the house a door opened.
“Eileen!” called Amanda. “Come in, dear! One of your guests has arrived! Go right out to the front hall and see for yourself!”
A few moments later, Eileen Chandler, in a paint-smeared smock, turned the corner of the hallway. Her face looked tired and strained. When she saw Shepherd smiling at her, she stiffened and stared at him open-mouthed.
“Hello, Eileen. I just—”
“No! I don’t want you here! I don’t want you! Go away!”
Sobbing wildly, she plunged up the stairs to her
Immediately her face froze into a chilling smile that did not reach her eyes. She strode briskly into the library with cordial noises and outstretched hands that did not waver even after she had seen the yellow Jung tee shirt.
“Such a privilege to have you!”
Dr. Shepherd apologized for his early arrival, attributing it to an “unforeseen accident in a national park,” and Amanda was all sympathy. She refused to hear of his plans to stay at the Chandler Grove Motel.
“Why, we have more room than they do!” she assured him with an arch smile. “And please don’t think I’m being kind! Why, I’m just as selfish as I can be. I want to have you right here where we can get to know you. And, anyway, some of our out-of-town wedding guests just may need those motel rooms, so there! It’s all settled. You’ll stay here.”
Shepherd, unused to the blitzkrieg form of Southern hospitality, succumbed in a puzzled voice, and shambled off to his car to collect his belongings. When he had gone, Amanda’s smile vanished.
“What can Eileen have been thinking of?” she murmured, glancing at him through the window. “He can’t possibly understand the problems of—of—”
“Of what, Aunt Amanda?” asked Elizabeth.
Remembering that her niece was present, Amanda summoned the wraith of her previous smile. “Why, Elizabeth!” she purred. “You’re going to think I have a silly old thing against Yankees after all these years, but really! —Oh, dear, could you just run out to the kitchen and tell Mildred that there’ll be another guest for dinner? I’m afraid she’ll be cross, but tell her that we are simply martyrs to the unexpected!”
“Martyrs …” murmured Elizabeth, shaking her head as she left. Bill would never believe that line!
She was on her way back from the kitchen when Shepherd appeared again at the front door with a brown suitcase and an armful of books.
“Would you like me to carry something?” she offered.
He shook his head. “I bet I have to go upstairs, right? Upstairs?”
“That’s right. Third bedroom on the left.”
He deposited his belongings in the hall chair. “It can wait. Boy, this is interesting. Seeing people in a social context that I’ve been hearing about for months!”
Elizabeth gasped. “She didn’t! I mean—I wasn’t mentioned, was I?”
Shepherd grinned. “People always ask me that. And I really can’t tell you. Honest. I’ll bet I hear that question ten more times while I’m here.”
“I’ll bet you do.”
“Where’s Eileen?”
“Down by the lake, I guess. She’s working on a painting to give to the groom. Don’t ask me what it’s like, because none of us have seen it.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “Do you think that’s normal?”
“Sure,” said Shepherd cheerfully. “It would take the drama out of the gift if everybody saw it beforehand. That’s a common reaction. Is the groom around?”
“He’s at the library. Do you know him well?”
“Oh, no. Met him once. He came to pick up Eileen after a session.”
“Well, you’ll meet everybody at dinner.”
“Including
him?”
he asked, gesturing toward Albania.
“Very possibly,” said Elizabeth, “but don’t be surprised if he turns out to be sane.”
“Listen,” said Shepherd, “when you’ve got that much money, you’re not crazy. Just eccentric.”
At the other end of the house a door opened.
“Eileen!” called Amanda. “Come in, dear! One of your guests has arrived! Go right out to the front hall and see for yourself!”
A few moments later, Eileen Chandler, in a paint-smeared smock, turned the corner of the hallway. Her face looked tired and strained. When she saw Shepherd smiling at her, she stiffened and stared at him open-mouthed.
“Hello, Eileen. I just—”
“No! I don’t want you here! I don’t want you! Go away!”
Sobbing wildly, she plunged up the stairs to her