The Homing Page 9

  Easily finding the queen cell he’d identified earlier in the week, Henderson carefully pierced its wax cap with the hypodermic needle and injected a drop of the fluid from the brown vial into it. Withdrawing the needle from the cell, he plugged the tiny hole by scraping a fragment of wax over it, pressing the wax into place with his little finger. As soon as he slid the frame back into its slot, the bees would go to work, trimming the plug or adding wax to it until it would blend so perfectly as to be undiscoverable.

  And inside the cell, the contents of the solution would go to work on the developing bee. If it worked, the descendants of that queen would be impervious to the ravages of the fertilizer.

  If it didn’t, the queen would simply die, and Henderson would return to his lab to begin again.

  Finishing with the first hive, he replaced the top supers, then moved on to the second. He was just about to lift its lid when he heard a sound behind him.

  A slight gasp.

  The kind of gasp someone makes when he comes upon something unexpected.

  Or frightening.

  Stiffening, Carl Henderson straightened up, then slowly turned to face whoever was behind him, already prepared to explain his presence as nothing more than a routine check on the hives.

  Henderson’s own breath caught as he recognized Julie Spellman. It was the first time he’d seen her since the wedding, and now, as his eyes locked on hers, he felt his hands clench into tight fists.

  Once again, her long black hair was cascading down her back, and once again her dark eyes were fixed on him, just as they had fixed on him at the wedding.

  His emotions churned and his fingers began to work.

  Don’t! he told himself. Don’t go near her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her!

  Yet he couldn’t keep himself from looking at her.

  His eyes fastened on her, and in the deep recesses of his mind, darkness began to close around him.

  A terrifying darkness—a darkness filled with nameless horrors that were reaching out to him.

  He could already feel talons of fear sinking deeply into his soul, and hear a mocking laughter in his ears.

  It was a laughter out of the past, as the fear that threatened to overwhelm him was also a terror out of the past. The laughter triggered a blind rage within Carl Henderson, and though he had no conscious memory of the source of either the laughter or the rage, he knew where they would take him.

  Voices were whispering to him now, urging him to vent the fury within. He wanted to give in to the voices, wanted to let them lead him, let them show him how to quench the hatred that burned inside him.

  But it was impossible!

  This girl knew him.

  Even worse, her mother and stepfather knew him, too.

  If he gave in to the demons that dwelt within him—to the cold fury and the deep hatred that he had kept closeted for so many years—his secrets would be exposed.

  Everyone would know what they made him do.

  Yet even as he tried to struggle against the blackness inside him, the battle was already lost, for his eyes remained fixed on Julie, remained fixed on that face that taunted him, mocked him, tortured him.

  The darkness closed around him, and his ears were filled with the familiar humming that had haunted his nightmares for as long as he could remember.

  His eyes glazing with the same dark look that had chilled Julie to the core only a few days ago, he started toward her.

  Julie instinctively backed away as she saw Carl Henderson move forward. “I—I was looking for Mr. Owen,” she stammered.

  “He’s not here,” Henderson said, his voice rasping in a way that sent a shiver through Julie. “Just me. Me, and you.”

  For an instant Julie didn’t understand. He was staring at her the way he had stared at her at the wedding. As though he hated her. But he didn’t even know her.

  She took another step backward, but suddenly Carl Henderson’s hand was on her arm, holding her.

  “Stop it!” he said. “Stop laughing at me!”

  Julie’s eyes widened as fear formed a cold fist in her belly. What was he talking about? She wasn’t laughing at him. She hadn’t even known who he was when she’d first seen him! “I wasn’t laughing—” she began, trying to pull her arm loose from his grip.

  “You were!” he snarled. His free arm rose into the air, then arced downward, his hand lashing across her face. “You’re always laughing at me! Always!”

  A scream erupted from Julie as Carl Henderson’s palm smashed across her cheek, then she cowered back, whimpering in terror. “N-No,” she stammered. “I was just looking for Mr. Owen! I wanted to—”

  But Carl Henderson heard nothing of her words. His consciousness was filled only with Julie’s image and his own rage, which was urging him on, whispering to him, telling him to do to her what she had done to him.

  The darkness, the voices in his head whispered. Put her in the dark with the other one. Do to her what she did to you. Now, Carl. Do it now. No one is here … no one can see you.… Do it, Carl … do it …

  His grip on Julie tightening, Carl twisted her around, and she stumbled, falling to the ground.

  She felt him drop down on top of her, and now, as his weight held her immobile, she felt his hands closing on her throat. “No!” she screamed once more. “Noooo!”

  Otto Owen emerged from his house. His anger had finally abated. In fact, if he wanted to be dead honest, he felt kind of stupid.

  When Julie had come knocking at his door a few minutes ago, he’d known why she was there: all she’d wanted to do was apologize.

  But he’d refused to listen—hell, he’d even refused to admit he could hear her, even though he was pretty sure she’d known he was right inside the door.

  And it’s not like she was a bad kid—not really. After all, weren’t all kids mouthier now than when he’d been her age? But whose fault was that? If he was going to be mad at anyone, he should be mad at Karen, not Julie. It was just the way the girl had been raised, that’s all. And if he was going to be completely honest, he didn’t really think Karen had been such a bad mother, though he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone but himself.

  Besides, even now that he was close to eighty, Otto could remember a few times when he was Julie’s age, and had wanted to tell off his own grandfather.

  Still, he wasn’t going to pretend he was happy about what was going on at the farm. It just seemed like nothing was the way it used to be—the way it should be.

  All his life the farm had run just the way it was supposed to. He and his father—then he and Russell—had worked the fields and the livestock, and his mother, then his own dear wife, Emily, then Russell’s Paula, had taken care of the house.

  After Emily died, Paula had taken care of his house, too. Never complained about it, either.

  She’d seen her duty and she’d done it!

  Of course, after she died, he and Russell and Kevin had to pitch in and do the housework themselves. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted Russell to get married again—he had! Hell, they had to have someone to take care of them, didn’t they?

  He’d waited all week, hoping that sooner or later Karen would come down and offer to clean up the growing mess in his house, but she hadn’t showed up at all, so this morning he’d gone up to talk to her about it, and she’d hardly even been civil to him.

  He’d seen the way she looked at him when all he asked for was a simple cup of coffee!

  Of course, he had only been a couple feet from the pot, and Karen had been pretty busy.

  Maybe he could have poured the coffee himself.

  In fact, if he really wanted to be fair, he supposed he should have poured the coffee himself.

  Abruptly, he started chuckling as he remembered the act Julie had put on. And now that he thought about it, hadn’t Enid Gilman once told him years ago that Karen was off in L.A. trying to be an actress?

  Well, from what he’d seen that morning, it was Julie who had t
he talent.

  Otto stood on his back porch, looking around the empty yard. No sign of Julie—but why would there be? He’d been a cantankerous old man, just as rude to her as she’d been to him, but at least she’d had a point to make, and he resolved to find her and let her finish apologizing. It would do her good.

  But where had she gone?

  He glanced up the hill toward his son’s house. Would she have gone back up there?

  What if she hadn’t known he was in his kitchen, listening to her? She’d still be looking for him.

  He set out toward the barn, but stopped when he caught sight of the vehicle parked at the bottom of the drive.

  Carl Henderson’s Jeep.

  His anger surged back as he glared at the UniGrow man’s dusty gray Cherokee.

  What the hell was Henderson doing parked down here? Where was the man? If he was on the farm, how come he hadn’t gone up to talk to Russell?

  Then he knew.

  The beehives!

  That was it: Henderson was doing something with the hives.

  Wasn’t it enough that Henderson and his company had already destroyed his own hives? The old man’s fury increased as he remembered what had happened after Russell had let UniGrow treat their fields with that newfangled fertilizer, despite his own objections.

  After the hives went bad, Russell should have just run Henderson and the rest of them off the property. There were lots of people they could have rented bees from, but oh, no! Russell had to go along with UniGrow again!

  Sometimes Otto wondered if he’d raised an idiot.

  Scowling deeply, he crossed the county road and started along the dirt track that edged the pasture. As he skirted a pile of boulders that had been cleared out of the field by his own father before he’d even been born, he spotted Carl Henderson.

  But he wasn’t messing with the hives at all.

  Instead he was on the ground, sprawled out on top of Julie Spellman, who was struggling to escape him.

  Breaking into a stiff-legged trot, Otto ran toward Henderson as quickly as he could. “Henderson!” he roared. “God damn you!”

  Otto Owen’s enraged bellow cut through the darkness in Carl Henderson’s mind. Instantly he released Julie, scrambling to his feet.

  “Mr. Owen!” Julie screamed, scrabbling away from Henderson and struggling to stand up herself. “Help me!”

  Otto glowered at Carl Henderson as he hurriedly approached, certain he knew exactly what was going on.

  “This isn’t what you think,” Carl said quickly. “She tripped, and I was just—”

  Otto’s anger boiled over. He hurled himself at Henderson, grabbing his shirt in both hands. “You think I’m blind, Henderson? Well, I’m not, and you’re goin’ to jail, you son of a bitch! You know how old that girl is?”

  Carl Henderson’s arms thrust up between Otto’s, breaking the older man’s grip on his shirt. A second later his right hand clenched into a fist and he swung at Otto.

  Julie, her terror of a moment before giving way to fury, hurled herself at Henderson, her right arm going around his neck as she tried to drag him off Kevin’s grandfather.

  Twisting himself free from her grip, Henderson shoved her away, and Julie, staggering, lost her balance and fell against one of the hives. Instantly, bees swarmed out of the white box and began buzzing angrily around her.

  “Watch out,” Otto yelled. “Get up, Julie! Run!”

  Julie scrambled to her feet. Waving her arms wildly in a vain attempt to fend off the bees’ furious attack, she tried to spin away from the swirling insects. She lurched toward Otto and Carl Henderson, then turned away and raced off in the other direction. After she’d run some thirty yards, the bees abandoned their pursuit and began returning to the overturned hive, around which a cloud of insects still hovered in churning confusion.

  The three stings the bees had inflicted on her already beginning to burn, Julie started back toward Otto and Carl, but she’d taken no more than three or four steps when a wave of dizziness struck her and she felt her knees begin to buckle.

  “Julie?” she heard Otto Owen ask. “You okay?”

  It sounded to Julie as if the old man’s voice were coming from a long distance away. She opened her mouth to answer; she tried to shout.

  No sound came out.

  A second later Julie collapsed to the ground.

  Otto stared in shock at the fallen girl. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  Carl Henderson’s mind had been racing.

  If Otto told what he’d seen, and Julie backed him up—

  Henderson’s blood ran cold as he realized what would happen.

  They’d search his house, and they’d find—

  No! He couldn’t let that happen! If they found what was in his house, they’d send him to jail for the rest of his life.

  But then his eyes went to Julie, and suddenly he realized he might be all right after all.

  Because Julie—like Molly a week ago—was having a reaction to the bee sting.

  An even worse reaction than her sister had had.

  If she died, no one would believe Otto, no matter what he said. Everyone in town knew how much the old man disliked him.

  But if it looked as though he’d been trying to save Julie’s life—

  “She’s going into shock,” he told Otto, his mind working furiously as he bent down and picked up Julie’s unconscious body. “I’ve got to get her to the clinic, fast.” Cradling Julie in his arms, already seeing a way out of his predicament, Carl Henderson started back along the track toward the county road and his Jeep.

  Otto followed, struggling to keep up with Henderson’s fast pace. “You’re not takin’ her anywhere!” he protested. “Not after what you were tryin’ to do!”

  Henderson glanced at the old man with a carefully constructed expression of bafflement. “What the hell are you talking about, Otto?” he began. “All I was—”

  “You were trying to rape her, you damned pervert!” Otto bellowed. “I saw you!”

  They were at the Jeep now, and after loading Julie into the backseat, Carl Henderson stared coldly at Otto. “You don’t know what you saw, Otto,” he said. “But I’m gonna tell you, so listen good. Something’s wrong with the bees again, Otto! That’s why Karen’s kids are having reactions to them! That’s what I was trying to do! I was taking a sample of the bees, so we can figure out what’s wrong with them!” As Otto’s mouth worked in fury, Henderson smiled. “Don’t try to tell anyone anything different,” he said. “Nobody will believe you. They’ll all think you’re just a crazy old coot!”

  Otto’s expression hardened. “Julie knows what you did,” he grated. “When she wakes up—”

  “If she wakes up,” Henderson interrupted. He started the Jeep, put it in gear, and was just pulling away from Otto when the old man shouted after him.

  “I’m calling the cops, Henderson,” the old man yelled. “I’ll have you in jail, you bastard!”

  With Otto’s words ringing in his ears, Carl Henderson sped away, his mind still working, knowing he wasn’t safe yet. If Julie woke up—

  He glanced into the backseat.

  The girl was unconscious, and her breathing seemed to be getting more labored by the second.

  If he slowed down, and she died before he got her to the clinic—

  But he couldn’t slow down. Not if it was going to look as if he’d done his best to save her life.

  For that, he’d have to get her to the clinic, where Ellen Filmore—whom someone at the farm would probably be calling even now—would set to work.

  And then she would ask him for the antivenin he’d promised her.

  The antivenin that he’d promised to deliver today. The antivenin that was in his briefcase.

  And that she knew was in his briefcase, because he’d told her so yesterday when she’d called to ask him when it would be available.

  Ellen Filmore would administer the antivenin to Julie, and in a
few minutes her breathing would return to normal—as would the color in her face—and the swelling would begin to go down.

  She would wake up.

  And she would talk.

  Carl Henderson’s mind continued to work, even as he turned into the parking lot of the clinic.

  And then, as the car slowed to a stop, the answer suddenly came to him.

  An answer that was simple, and elegant.

  And would ensure that Julie Spellman never woke up.

  CHAPTER 6

  “I’ll kill him, Russell,” Karen said. “If what Otto says is true, I swear, I’ll kill him with my own hands!”

  They were in Russell’s Chrysler, she in the front seat with her husband, Kevin and Molly in back. Ahead she could see the clinic, and a terrible sense of déjà vu rolled over her. Only a week ago she had made this exact same ride, and for the exact same reason.

  A bee sting.

  First with Molly, who had almost died.

  Now with Julie, who was already unconscious.

  And who, according to Otto, had been raped as well.

  They’d met Otto halfway down the driveway, all four of them drawn from the kitchen by the sound of his shouting voice, suddenly muffled by the roar of a gunning car engine. By the time they’d arrived outside, Carl Henderson’s Jeep was already speeding away.

  Karen had listened in shock as Otto told them what had happened. Barely able to control her fury at Carl Henderson, she hadn’t even wanted to wait while Russell called Ellen Filmore at home to let her know that Julie was on the way to the clinic. And as they’d gotten into the car, Russell had told her to try to keep calm.

  “Let’s just take this a step at a time,” he cautioned. “I just can’t believe that Carl would—”

  “No one ever wants to believe it,” Karen interrupted, her voice cold as she stared straight ahead out the wind shield. “That’s why so many of these perverts get away with it! But Otto saw it!” She turned to glare angrily at Russell. “He—” She saw Molly sitting next to Kevin in the backseat, listening to every word, and cut herself short, falling into a furious silence.