Evan hung up the phone. He seemed preoccupied as he stared out the window.
“Evan? Was that man who punched through the window Noah Madaster?” I asked shakily.
He blinked and focused on my face.
“I think it was, yes. Wes was just giving me the news that Lorraine and Noah had moved back to the South Twin when you two ran into the room.”
“How long have they been here?” I asked disbelievingly, recalling how I’d felt watched several times while painting up at the overlook. Had it really just been this afternoon that I’d seen the definite outline of a man before the shadow had abruptly dissipated? The disturbing image of that bloody, punching fist flashed into my mind’s eye.
That fist definitely hadn’t belonged to a ghost.
“I’m not sure,” Evan was saying. “Apparently, Noah had a bad accident years ago. He suffered a spinal cord injury and lost the use of his legs.”
“You didn’t know he was injured?” I asked.
“No. I’ve dealt with his lawyers in the past seven years, never him personally. Wes says he’s hired a nurse to care for him here at Les Jumeaux. He’s wheelchair bound, but insists on staying mostly in the top suite of the tower. There’s an elevator in the house, but it only runs from the tower to the second floor. According to Wes, he rarely leaves the upper floors of the house anymore, because it would require someone carrying him down the stairs. That’s not the kind of thing Noah would ever let happen.”
Of course. That’s why the shadow had swooped away so rapidly, it’d looked like a magic trick. He’d been on wheels. Someone had pulled Madaster away from the window.
I realized Evan watched me with a worried expression. Without thinking, I crossed the room and hugged him. He felt stiff in my arms for a moment before I sensed the give in his flesh. His arms encircled me. He pulled me tight against him. I felt him press his mouth to the top of my head.
“It must have been scary, seeing that,” he said gruffly, his hand cupping the back of my head.
“Why did he do it?” I murmured against his chest. “Did that accident affect his brain or something?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, kissing the top of my head again. “Where were you two when it happened?”
“We were coming from the boathouse. We’d just passed beneath that tower,” Valeria said from across the room.
“You were over by the South Twin?”
I leaned my head back at the sharpness of Evan’s question.
“We walked over to that boathouse to check out what equipment was inside,” I said breathlessly. A horrible thought struck me. “Is that why Madaster had a fit and punched through the window? Were we on his property? Trespassing?”
A muscle twitched in Evan’s cheek.
“Absolutely not. Don’t worry about that,” he said firmly.
“Evan… is that why? We found scuba gear in there, and we took some suits out to wash them. Were we trespassing? Taking property that belonged to him? Is that why Madaster got upset?” I demanded, sensing a crack in Evan’s confidence.
“No.” He exhaled in obvious frustration. “Maybe Noah thought so, but in fact, you weren’t. The boathouse was shared by both properties when they were joined, but if Noah had bothered to read the specifics of the most recent property allocations from the court judgment, he would know the boathouse belongs exclusively to the North Twin… to us,” he added, giving me a pointed glance.
“So don’t begin to imagine that you were responsible for him doing what he did, Anna. Maybe he did suffer some kind of brain injury that would make him impulsive or self-destructive. He always did have a problem with his temper. Maybe the injury worsened it.”
I sighed. I suddenly felt exhausted, like everything had been going in super fast motion, and was now slowing to a burdensome crawl.
“What do you think we should do?” I asked Evan. “Should we go over and see if Wes needs any help?”
“No. Wes was just explaining before you arrived that he’s hired a live-in nurse. And in any case, Noah wouldn’t rest any easier having me walk in the room.”
“A nurse. I’ll bet t
hat’s whom I saw. Driving out of the South Twin that day,” I said. I started. “If that’s true, then the Madasters having been living at the South Twin since before we arrived.”
As I stared up at Evan’s tense face, I heard the far distant sound of a siren through the opened French doors. We remained silent, listening closely.
“It’s close. His nurse must have called 911 after all,” I said. “Do you think he could have hurt himself badly?”