Legacy Of Terror

box with a bow as thick with ribbon as a head was with hair. She wondered what anyone could have gotten her that was so big, and she wanted to open it first. She pried the lid off and leaned forward, peered inside and swallowed hard and tried to look away and could not and opened her mouth and sucked breath and finally screamed-
    She woke, perspiring.
    But the scream continued.
    It was not her scream any longer, and certainly not the scream of a nightmare. It was real, and it was a woman's voice, the cry of a woman in the most terrible agony. It wailed on, rising and falling, cutting across the bones of anyone who listened, like an icicle across plate glass. And then it was over with.
    Elaine thought she had recognized the voice as Celia Tamlin's, even though no words had been spoken in that horrid ululation of terror.
    The clock on the nightstand read 11:30.
    She slid out of bed, put on her slippers. She hesitated, as she took her robe from its hanger, not certain it was wise to become involved with whatever was going on. She could see Jacob Matherly's twisted face, the intensely blue eyes, and she could almost hear him warning her…
    Enough! From the sound of that scream, the girl might very likely need a nurse. Already, several long minutes had passed in which she might need help. She put on her robe and started for the door.

Chapter 3
    Before she could button her robe and reach the door, someone knocked on it and called her name. She took the last few steps and opened it Gordon Matherly stood in the corridor, his face creased by anxiety, breathing rather heavily.
    “Did you scream?” he asked.
    “No. I thought it was Celia.”
    “What room did Dennis give her? Do you know?”
    She didn't and said so.
    Dennis appeared at the head of the stairs. “Is everyone all right up here?”
    “It wasn't Elaine,” Gordon said.
    Lee Matherly's door opened. He had been in bed but had taken the time to dress now. He said, “It sounded as if it came from outside the house. I can see Celia's car halfway down the drive.”
    Dennis turned and went down the steps two at a time.
    When Elaine made to follow, Gordon said, “Maybe you had better wait here until we know what's happened.”
    “If she's had an accident, she might need my help.” She smiled at him, pleased with his concern for her. “And don't worry-I'm used to helping victims of accidents.”
    She followed the boys' father, Lee, down the steps, with Gordon thumping close behind her. They walked down the darkened main hall and through the open front door. The air was chilly for June; she was glad she wore a quilted robe.
    As they hurried toward the Buick which Celia had been driving, they could see Dennis standing by the front fender, looking alongside the car. He was so still that he might have been a statue. When they were almost upon him, he turned around, trembling like a man with the ague. His face was chalky, and his eyes were very wide. He looked, to Elaine, as if he were suffering from mild shock.
    He said, “Don't look.”
    Lee Matherly grabbed his shoulders. “What?”
    “Don't look at her.”
    “Who?”
    “Celia.”
    His father released him and stepped around the car. He halted as if a brick wall had been placed in front of him, and his entire body jerked with the blow. Gordon went to his side and said, just loud enough to be heard: “Oh, Christ, Christ, Christ.”
    “What happened to her?” she asked Dennis.
    “Someone-someone stabbed her.” The words were thick in his mouth, as if he had been drinking. She knew that could not be the case, for even if he had been drunk he would have been shocked into sobriety.
    Before anyone could stop her, she went and looked at the body. Celia was lying on her side, one hand clutching her stomach, the other thrown out by her head, as if she were grasping for some handhold on life. The ground around her was thick with blood, so much blood that she could hardly have been alive.
    “Get away from her, Miss Sherred,” Lee ordered.
    “She may be alive.”
    “She isn't,” Dennis said, his voice weak. “She couldn't be.”
    “Have any of you checked?”
    “No,” Lee said. He seemed resigned, as if none of this were very unexpected, as if he had been preparing himself to face a similar scene at some future date, had been preparing himself for years.
    “You should have. Maybe there's something I can do.”
    She stepped between them, to the body, and knelt beside the girl. Careful not to disturb the one or two wounds she could see, she rolled Celia onto