Heather Graham - The Evil Inside

Cindy cried out herself, lifting the coffee table, ready to hurl it at Jenna.

But, before she could, a whirlwind rushed into the room.

It was Sam. He put his arms around Cindy and threw her to the ground, the table landing with a loud crash. At that moment, Jenna became aware of the sound of sirens coming closer. Samantha rose one more time to come after her.

Jenna felt lightness in her head, and she knew she was going to faint, with darkness and stars bursting before her eyes.

But Sam ran in her direction, and his arm snaked around Samantha before she could strike. He lifted her off her feet, swinging her around to crash land on top of Cindy.

“I always knew you wanted to touch me, honey,” Samantha said, dazed.

Then Jenna saw no more. The stars in front of her eyes burst, and then became blackness.

Waking up, Jenna felt a bit as if she were on display.

There were so many people staring at her.

A doctor in a white uniform and a stethoscope in his hand. A concerned nurse in a pert white hat. Uncle Jamie, Jackson, Angela, Will, John Alden-and Sam.

Sam was seated by her side on the bed, holding her hand. His gray eyes were so misted with concern that it seemed her heart ached, rather than her head.

“Ah, you’re back with us again,” the doctor said. “Well, that was a pretty good wallop you got on your head, and I know you’re an R.N., Miss Duffy, but you’re staying right here tonight, you understand. You should know that a good concussion is definitely something to watch.”

“Don’t you be worrying!” Jamie said. “The lass will be staying right here, till you say that it’s fine for her to leave.”

“Ditto,” Sam said sternly, squeezing her hand.

“May we have just a minute?” John Alden asked.

“A minute!” the doctor said sternly.

“I’m not leaving at all,” Sam said. He looked at the doctor. “I’ll be good, I swear. I’m just going to sit here and make sure she doesn’t try to get up.”

“All right, but not too much stimulation-the rest of you out of here in two minutes!” the doctor said firmly.

When he was gone, John Alden said, “Jenna, I just want to say-well, I just want to say that the women are both locked up, and-” he paused, shaking his head with a smile and looking at Jamie “-and the prosecutor has already gone in to see that the charges against Malachi Smith are dropped. Of course, now he has to press charges against Samantha Yeager and Cindy Yates, and you will be called to testify in court, and God knows, Sam may be defending them-”

“No,” Sam said. “Sam won’t be defending them.”

“Who knew?” Jamie said quietly. “Who knew that a woman like Cindy could go quite so crazy over the perceived injury done a child?”

“Well, we did think that maybe Andy Yates was that furious,” he reminded her. “We didn’t think that a mother would resort to that kind of violence. That’s still the way of the world-we don’t like to think that the female of our species can be so violent and diabolical. And I sure didn’t suspect that the affair was with Cindy Yates, not Andy,” Jackson said apologetically.

“Oh, my God, Angela!” Jenna tried to sit up to address her friend.

“No!” the word was a cacophony from the entire group, and Sam gently pushed her back down.

“I’m fine-absolutely fine,” Angela told her. “I’m embarrassed, frankly. I was armed and everything. The rock came from the trees the minute I turned to watch the house. But, honestly, I was already getting up when Jackson came rushing over for me. So much for my intelligent stakeout.”

“They would have just gotten us both inside,” Jenna said.

“Maybe,” Angela said. “And maybe not.”

“Listen,” Jackson said, “our two minutes are up. We can go through all of it later-when you’re up to it. Come on, everyone out. Jenna, you get your rest, and don’t you dare try to get up again.”

“Wait!” Jenna said. She looked at her uncle. “How is Malachi?”

Jamie smiled. “Malachi is just fine. We had a long talk on the phone, and I’ll go and pick him up when I leave here. I’m making arrangements for him to do his senior year at a boarding school in New Hampshire-one that has an extensive music department. He wants to pursue a career in music. He has the guitar now, and while I’m getting him situated, he’ll have the piano at my house. We’ll see his name in the newspapers again, I’ll warrant. In the entertainment section. He’s going to make it. He’ll have support now, and belief. Music, he told me, is his gift from God. Who knows? Maybe he’ll become the singing priest! A nun made it that way, once!”

Jenna nodded and leaned back, smiling.

Jamie kissed her cheek, then Angela and Jackson. Apparently, John Alden would have felt left out if he hadn’t, so he did, as well.

She caught his hand. “Thanks for being a good cop, John,” she said.

“I didn’t want to believe any of you,” he said. “Me. The man who should have learned the most from the past.”

“You’re an exceptionally good cop because you were willing to be honest and not blindly insist that you were right. You’re a good cop because you pursued justice, not ego,” she told him.

He grinned, kissed her cheek again and left.

And she was alone with Sam.

“Wait until you’re well,” he told her, moving closer and holding her fingers tenderly. “Such a brat, still! You were supposed to be at the house.”

“I never said I wouldn’t go to Lexington House,” she told him.

“Brat. Omission is as good as a lie.”

She smiled, not looking at him. “I’m just grateful that you came. I learned something, of course. Anyone can be taken by surprise. I’m pretty good, but… Cindy might have been the one to commit the most vicious murders, but Samantha is one mean opponent! How the hell did you find us?” she demanded.

“I figured it out when David and Andy Yates were together,” he said. “I knew where they were-but I didn’t know where Samantha and Cindy were. I tried calling you. You didn’t answer.”

“But-did you just figure I would have gone to Lexington House?” she asked.

He lowered his head. “No,” he answered after a minute.

“Oh?”

“Someone showed me the way. I think she’s a friend of yours.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Rebecca Nurse.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “I-I thought she was just an old woman in the way, but Jackson didn’t see her. He said that she was there for me…and to follow her. And I did.” He was thoughtful. “She knew how easy it was for even good, sane people to believe what others said, I believe. Maybe-maybe she stays, making sure that others don’t follow the same route-making sure that history matters.”

Jenna could barely believe what he was saying-and that he meant the words, earnestly.

“She kept telling me that children listened to their parents. And they did; David Yates knew that his mother loathed the Smiths. He knew, too, that his father wanted them out of the area. And I think he was terrified that his father was a murderer, and he had to keep saying what he did so that nothing happened to his family.”

“That boy is going to need a lot of help,” Sam said thoughtfully.

“And what about Malachi?”

“I think your uncle is going to become his guardian. He was already saying that he wanted to get him down to New York or out West, maybe. He wants to put him in a good music school.”

“Actually, he needs to meet Jake.”

“Jake, Jake! I don’t want to hear about this Jake.”

Jenna tried not to laugh; laughing did still hurt.

“Jake has got a gorgeous fiancée, so not to worry. But he’s an incredible musician. I think he and Malachi really must meet.”