The Door at the Top of the Stairs Read online

  “You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re old man’s got the wrong equipment for those two dykes. It’s more likely they’re doin’ your mom than your dad.” He burst out laughing and danced backward as Cody swung his fist as hard as he could at Jason’s face. The fist went flying through empty air and Jason grinned again. “Whoa, boy. I’m just tellin’ it like it is. And I’m outta here too. You’re on your own on this one.” He walked around the side of the building and yelled to Kai. “Hey, wait up! I’m comin’ with you.”

  Cody watched them go, then spit on the sidewalk. “To Hell with both of ya.” He checked his watch as he climbed behind the wheel of his truck. Ten o’clock. He knew everyone on the farm went to bed by nine. Unfortunately, Morgan had started taking unscheduled walks around the barn and kennels at night. He’d been going every night, trying to find a pattern to when she came out, but she varied the times too much and he couldn’t plan on her being in bed when he snuck into the barn. He reached down and turned the key. The ignition caught on the first try, and he took that as a good-luck omen. He’d get in and out again tonight without anyone the wiser.

  The drive to the farm took nearly twenty minutes. When he was about a half-mile away he killed his lights, reduced his speed and drove as slowly as he dared to a pullout just beyond Morgan’s barn. After shutting off the engine, he got out of the truck, quietly pushing the door shut behind him. As he climbed over the fence surrounding the property, his pants caught on a piece of barbed wire. He cursed to himself before pulling his leg free and stepping over to the other side.

  The forest was unusually quiet as he moved between trees. On other nights, he’d noticed that when Morgan walked around the property, all the night creatures quieted until she’d passed, then resumed their nighttime chatter once she was gone. He moved slowly, all the while keeping a sharp eye out for any movement.

  When he came to the edge of the forest, he knelt down and waited.

  He heard her before he saw her coming down the path from the main house. She’d stepped on a branch, and the sharp crack sounded like a rifle shot in the quiet night. She carried a flashlight in her right hand, but kept it off while she made her way out into the open area in front of the barn. You think you’re so smart, Cody thought. He waited until she’d disappeared into the barn, then sat, leaning his back against the trunk of a tree to wait. He watched as she came out of the barn, then smirked when she turned and headed around the side to the kennels. It’s not your hounds yet, Bitch, but it soon will be.

  All in all, it took Morgan about twenty minutes to check the buildings and return to the front of the barn. Cody froze when she stopped and carefully surveyed the forest surrounding her farm.

  Her gaze seemed to stop on the tree he was leaning against and he breathed a sigh of relief when she finally turned and headed back to the house.

  He waited another fifteen minutes, then pushed himself up and headed for the barn. The side door had an obnoxious squeak, so he took his time, pulling it open just far enough to slip inside. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness without the benefit of the moon to light his way. When he could make out various objects, he carefully made his way to Aristotle’s stall, relying on memory more than sight to avoid bumping into anything.

  Aristotle stood to the rear of his stall with his head down. Got a tummy ache, Old Boy? Just you’re bad luck to be Morgan’s favorite ride. He slipped into the stall, took the baggie out of his pocket and opened it. Aristotle’s water bowl was hooked to the rear wall. Cody stepped over to it, then poured a small amount of pesticide into the water. He went to the food bin and repeated the process, pouring pesticide over the hay the big horse hadn’t eaten that evening. The white powder clumped into a pile on the hay, so he sifted it around with his fingers until he couldn’t see it anymore.

  When he was finished, he closed the baggie, put it back into his pocket and slipped out of the barn. By the time he’d made it to his truck, his grin stretched from ear to ear. Once more, the truck started on the first attempt. He waved at the main house as he drove past, then gunned the engine and headed home.

  His mother looked up from her crocheting when he walked in through the front door. She put down the afghan she’d been working on and motioned for him to come closer. “Did you go out with your friends?”

  He strolled over and kissed her on the cheek. “Yeah, we played some pool at Harley’s, then I took care of some business.” She studied his face, then picked up the afghan again. “I hope your business was productive.”

  He smirked. “Very.”

  She smiled as she wove the crochet needles in and out of her memorized pattern. “Good. Very good.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next day, Dr. Elimena arrived at the barn to check Aristotle. He'd been Morgan's vet for over fifteen years, and usually made himself at home whenever any of the horses needed to be checked. Jesse heard the door open and watched a tall, middle-aged man walk into the barn, grab Aristotle's halter and head for the center aisle. Aristotle's stall was the third in on the left, and Jesse had just enough time to get there and step in front of him before he opened the stall door. "Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in here?"

  The vet stepped back, color rising in his face as he bit back an angry reply. "Excuse me?"

  "I asked you what the fuck you're doing here!" Jesse stood in a defensive stance, left side to the vet, right side away.

  Dr. Elimena took a step forward and put the back of his hand against Jesse's shoulder to push her out of his way. "I need to see this horse. Now get out of my way."

  Morgan came around to the front of the barn from the kennels and saw Doc Elimena's truck parked in front. She'd forgotten to tell Jesse he was coming, and the vet was already in the barn. "Shit!"

  She ran the last few steps to the door and stepped inside in time to see the vet try to push Jesse aside.

  "Jesse! Freeze!"

  Morgan's yell from across the room startled Jesse enough to stop her fist from slamming into the vet's face. She controlled her anger and backed up, still blocking his way into the stall. Morgan ran up and slid the last few feet until she was between Jesse and the doctor. She held out her hand to shake. “Tom, glad you could make it."

  No one said anything for a few seconds. Tom slowly reached out and took Morgan's hand. "Morgan."

  "Here, give me the halter. I'll have Jesse bring him out where you can see him better." She took the halter and slapped it into Jesse's chest at the same time she put her arm on the vet's back and guided him to the front of the barn. "So, how's Arlene doing?"

  Tom, who stood six one, put his hand on Morgan's shoulder as they walked down the aisle. “When did you get your new guard dog?"

  "Sorry about that. I forgot to tell her you were coming."

  "Why do I get the feeling her bite's worse than her bark?"

  "Probably because it is."

  Jesse brought Aristotle down the aisle and the vet stood back and studied how he walked.

  "He's lost some weight." It took a good thirty minutes for him to check the horse with Jesse glaring at him the entire time. By the time he finished, he'd gotten his temper in check and he held out his hand to Jesse. "I'd like to apologize for not introducing myself right from the start. I'm Dr. Elimena, the farm's vet."

  Jesse continued to glare and didn't take his hand.

  Morgan waited until Jesse met her eyes, then closed hers halfway and sent her a silent but well-understood message.

  Jesse looked away, then took his hand. “Jesse."

  "I hope next time we'll get off to a better start."

  Jesse raised sullen eyes to his and kept silent.

  Doc Elimena's even temper won out, mostly because he and Morgan had been friends for a long time. “I'm done with him now.

  You can take him back."

  Jesse waited for Morgan to tell her they were done.

  "Go."

  She glared one more time at the vet, then led Aristotle to his stall
. He should have told her who he was. She didn't appreciate a total stranger letting himself into the barn, then trying to shove her out of the way when she asked what he was doing. When she undid Aristotle's halter, he stood with his head down, his eyes dull. She ran her fingers through his mane and down his back, quietly telling him what a jerk she thought his vet was.

  Morgan walked the vet up to the house, and since his truck was still there when dinner time came, Jesse decided to eat in her room. She pulled out a can of tomato soup, poured the soup into a mug and heated it in the microwave. The phone in the barn rang with the main house ring, and she left the soup where it was and went out to answer it. The phone was attached to the wall above the feed table and the ringer was set up so that it rang throughout the barn and also in the kennels. She grabbed the receiver. “Yeah?"

  Courtesy was second nature for Morgan, and Jesse's rudeness always caught her off guard. "Is that any way to answer a phone?"

  The silence on the other end stretched out, and she handed the phone to Ryland. "I'll be in the living room eating a bottle of Tums."

  Ryland chuckled and took the phone. “Jesse?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Dinner's ready. Come on up."

  "I'll stay down here, thanks."

  "All right, then come up when you’re ready for bed. That part's not negotiable."

  Jesse hung up and went back in to grab the soup. She crumbled a handful of crackers and threw them in before taking the mug out into the barn to drink while she began the evening feeding. When she came to Aristotle's stall, she put her foot on the bottom pipe and watched him. At feeding time, he always waited for her with his head over the top rail, making sure she remembered to feed him too. Today he stood toward the back of the enclosure, head held low, uninterested in the hay she'd put in his feeder.

  As she stared into the stall, her eyes came to rest on the water bowl that was bolted into the corner of his pen. Yesterday a leak had developed in the pipe running to the bowl, and she'd turned off his water until she could repair the hole. She'd been planning to carry water to him as he needed it, but the bowl was still full. She watched him for a while longer, then went back to the phone.

  When Ryland answered, she asked, “Can I talk to Morgan?"

  Ryland raised her eyebrows and held out the phone. “Jesse wants to talk to you."

  Morgan pointed to her chest and raised her eyebrows in return.

  Ryland nodded and shrugged.

  Morgan took the phone. “What's up?"

  "I just thought you should tell the vet that Aristotle hasn't had anything to drink since yesterday morning. I turned off his water at about seven so his stall wouldn't get soaked. I still need to fix that leak I told you about, and the water in his bowl is the same level as it was then."

  Morgan mulled over this new information. “We'll be back down in a minute."

  Jesse stood talking to Aristotle and running her hand down his neck while she waited. Morgan and the vet walked in and went straight to the water. Dr. Elimena opened a vial he brought out of his pocket and dipped it in. He recapped it and labeled it with a permanent marker. "How long do you think it's been since he had water?" He'd already taken blood samples, but now he took out a syringe, found a vein and inserted the needle. He connected a vial and dark red swirled down into it.

  "At least since seven yesterday morning. I'm not real sure."

  "Have you noticed any symptoms of colic?"

  "Nope."

  Morgan cocked her head. “Nope?"

  "Anything different about his stools?"

  "They were a little loose this morning."

  "Do you feed him the same food you feed the other horses?

  From the same containers, I mean?"

  "Yup."

  Morgan shifted. “Yup? How about we try a little respect?

  Humor me, Jesse.”

  Jesse rolled her eyes. “I really doubt he's as hung up on 'yes Sir and 'no Sir' as you are."

  Doc Elimena busied himself by moving to Aristotle's head and checking in his mouth.

  "Tom, would you excuse us a minute, please?"

  Jesse held up her hands. “All right, all right—respect, I got it."

  She ducked behind Aristotle and stroked his long neck.

  The vet put the vial into his shirt pocket and asked, “Have you changed anything in his diet? Added vitamins, different oats, anything?"

  "Huh uh." Jesse shot a quick look at Morgan out of the corner of her eye.

  Doc Elimena leaned toward Jesse and asked quietly, “Do you always bait her like this?"

  Jesse grinned. “Yup."

  "You must like to live dangerously." He took a swab out of his bag, ran it across the bottom of the feed barrel, then placed the swab into a plastic holder and labeled it.

  Morgan let out a breath that sounded like the brakes on a locomotive. She opened the stall gate and motioned for the vet to precede her. “Tom, you ready for dinner?" He walked out, and Morgan stepped back and waited for Jesse, who stayed behind Aristotle, hiding her grin.

  "You have to come up to the house sometime tonight. I'll see you then."

  Jesse muttered to Aristotle, “I'm shakin' in my boots."

  "You’d better be. And move Aristotle to another stall tonight.

  And don't clean this stall until we find out what's wrong with him."

  Morgan followed the vet out and the two of them walked back up to the house.

  Evening feeding never took long, and by seven Jesse was back in the apartment lying on her bed reading the only book she owned, Anthem, by Ayn Rand. Over the past year, she'd worn out the pages, reading and re-reading two passages that always brought her up short. Until recently, she didn't understand why. Tonight she read the first one over and over. She couldn't stop herself. She understood now. She knew why the words hypnotized her: 1.3 We are alone here under the earth. It is a fearful word, alone. The laws say that none among men may be alone, ever and at any time, for this is the great transgression and the root of all evil. But we have broken many laws. And now there is nothing here save our one body, and it is strange to see only two legs stretched on the ground, and on the wall before us the shadow of our one head.

  Her hands shook as she turned to the other passage she'd committed to memory:

  6.10 The first blow of the lash felt as if our spine had been cut in two. The second blow stopped the first, and for a second we felt nothing, then the pain struck us in our throat and fire ran in our lungs without air. But we did not cry out.

  6.11 The lash whistled like a singing wind. We tried to count the blows, but we lost count. We knew that the blows were falling upon our back. Only we felt nothing upon our back any longer. A flaming grill kept dancing before our eyes, and we thought of nothing save that grill, a grill, a grill of red squares, and then we knew that we were looking at the squares of the iron grill in the door, and there were also the squares of stone on the walls, and the squares which the lash was cutting upon our back, crossing and re-crossing itself in our flesh.

  The words held her spellbound, but she was afraid to know why. She began repeating them, slowly at first, until the blood began pounding through her veins and her mind started spinning out of control.

  At ten o'clock, Ryland shut her laptop and went to see whether Jesse had come up from the barn. Morgan was in the living room reading. She closed her book. "I told you I'd let you know when she got here. That's the fifth time you've checked the guest room.

  You want me to go get her?"

  "I know, I know, I'm like an old mother hen, but this is a critical time, when memories start presenting themselves without any controls. Would you mind going and getting her? I guess I'll be less worried once she's here.”

  Morgan kissed Ryland on the forehead and got her jacket out of the hall closet. She walked slowly down to the barn, not really in the mood for a confrontation. She saw light shining through the curtains in the apartment window, and she stepped into the barn and knocked on Jesse's door.


  "Jesse, Ryland's ready for bed, but she won't go until she knows you're in the guest bedroom. Get your stuff and let's go."

  There was no answer from inside, and she knocked two more times before pulling out her keys and letting herself in. Jesse was tangled in the bedcovers, lying on the floor between the bed and the wall, unconscious. Morgan grabbed the bedpost and pulled the bed away from the wall. She put her fingers to Jesse's neck and when she found a pulse, she shook Jesse's shoulders and then her head, trying to wake her. Jesse's face remained slack, her eyes still.

  Morgan pulled her into a sitting position, ran her arms under Jesse's shoulders and managed to lift her to the bed. From there, she hefted her into her arms and carried her to the house, looking for Ryland around every turn in the path.

  Ryland was on the porch watching for them, and when she saw Jesse in Morgan's arms, her heart climbed into her throat.

  "What happened?"

  "I don't know. I just found her like this on the floor."

  "Bring her into the guest room; then go into our dresser and you'll find the smelling salts in the top right-hand drawer."

  Morgan laid Jesse and the tangled sheets on the bed, then left to get the capsules. The container wasn't in the top right drawer, so she began jerking drawers open and rifling through them.

  "Ryland, they're not here, where else would they be?" She went into the bathroom and opened all the cabinets, rummaging through them and still not finding what she needed. They weren't in any of the logical places, and she went back to the guest room to ask where else she should look. Ryland had untangled Jesse from the sheets and was sitting on the edge of the bed leafing through a book. Morgan stopped in the doorway. “Am I the only one who's panicking here?"

  Ryland slowly shook her head. “No, I'm worried too, but I found this book in the sheets, and I know what happened. Look at this: Anthem, written by Ayn Rand. This page is torn and wrinkled, and I'd bet money she was reading it tonight. Damn it!"