She turned out the lights as I checked all the doors and locks.

At the top of the stairs, Hannah stopped at a doorway. "Here you go, Kate. I put you in the room next to Margaret's. Everything is all ready, so have a good sleep." She came over and kissed my cheek. "Bless you," she said.

"Good night, Hannah," I said, warmly.

She then went over, kissed Maggie good night and went into her room at the end of the hall.

"Well, I appreciate all you're doing. I don't know why you're doing it but thank you," Maggie said.

"I'm not quite sure why I'm doing it either, but you're welcome."

I smiled and for a moment, she looked like she might say something, then she smiled as well.

"Well, good night," she whispered and opened her door.

"Good night, Maggie."

I went into my room and saw Chance sprawled out on the bed, sound asleep and snoring peacefully. What a life, I thought as I put my bag on the chair and went to the window. The wind had quieted and now the trees moved gently with the breeze. I peered out the window, wondering if my imagination had gotten the better of me. Did I see something? A shiver ran through me as I backed away from the window and drew the curtains shut. I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

"Getting a little grayer every time I look at you, Kate ole girl."

I also needed to shed a few pounds, but who didn't? What with middle age and all that. Overall though, I was content with my life and myself. I guess if I were more than six feet tall, my weight would be perfect. However, being five foot nine, several fewer pounds were in order.

I lie there with my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. Chance growled lowly as I gently nudged her out of the way.

What had I gotten into? Surely, something was going on, but what and why? I thought of Aunt Hannah's family history lesson. Who had control of the family business now that Maggie's father had died?

Then I remembered Hannah telling me, when we were in the kitchen, that Maggie's mother had died twenty years ago. I'd first thought she died from an illness. But then later, Hannah said she was killed. To me that took on a whole different connotation. I wondered if she were in some kind of an accident or something more. More than what?

Was there something going on or was this all Maggie's imagination? My instincts told me it was not, but then my instincts weren't what they used to be. I tossed restlessly and looked at the clock. Only 10:30.

But maybe, just maybe, Maggie and her aunt were just plain nuts like the aunts in the movie, a.r.s.enic and Old Lace. They get rid of my car, then my dog, and then me. First we get moose, then we get squirrel. The immortal words of Boris Badanoff came to mind.

Wouldn't that beat all? I thought as I drifted off to sleep. Two crazy women...

Chapter Six.

I sat bolt upright in bed. Was I awake? My heart was pounding in my ears. I hate those dreams when you know you're dreaming but you can't wake yourself. Someone-something-in this dream had been shaking my bed, urging me to wake up.

I looked around until my eyes adjusted to the pitch-blackness of my room. I was awake and Chance was growling. She was no longer on the bed and, through the darkness, I saw her by the door.

Then I heard it-a shuffling sound in the hallway. I got up and put my ear to the door. I stood for several seconds before hearing it again. I haphazardly struggled into my jeans and sweater and slipped into my shoes, thankfully not falling flat on my face.

"C'mon, Chance," I whispered and the traitor jumped on the bed and laid there. "You coward! If I get killed, you'll be sorry." What was I saying? n.o.body was getting killed.

It was dark but the moon cast a perfect light from the hallway window so I wasn't totally in the dark, as I opened my door.

Who the h.e.l.l was I kidding? I was completely in the dark, and I knew it. I closed my door behind me and walked out into the hall. Putting my ear to Maggie's door, I heard nothing. I cautiously opened her door and peered into the darkness. I heard her breathing and snoring peacefully. I must have imagined the whole thing.

It was on my way back to my room that I heard a noise downstairs. My heart stopped. I turned toward the staircase and took a few steps. I thought I heard Maggie's door creak, so I turned around, but no, the door was still closed. I sneaked to the top of the stairs, leaned over the railing and looked around before I slowly descended. Occasionally, a stair would creak. Of course, they had to creak, since I was trying so hard to be quiet.

A shiver rippled through me. Someone's walking over your grave. My Irish Grandmother's words came back to me. Thanking Granny for the gruesome mental picture, I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the hallway. It was freezing. I walked down the hall and into the living room.

Through the darkness, I examined the contours of each wall and then I saw it. The curtains were blowing wildly in the wind. The French doors were wide open. I had locked them myself. Someone was already in the house. I tried to swallow, but couldn't peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth.

I was terrified as I walked over to the doors. Then I felt something behind me, but I couldn't move. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out.

"You shouldn't be here," the voice came in a wicked whisper, touching my ear.

I do believe I may have screamed then, as I instinctively raised my arm and swung my elbow backward, catching the intruder at the head. As he grabbed me, we crashed through the French doors.

We tumbled out onto the deck and I felt something sharp pierce my shoulder. The intruder whined like some scared animal as he tried to gain the upper hand. My adrenaline was at an all-time high and power surged through me. I was almost on top of him, surprised to get the upper hand so quickly, when he broke free and pushed me off. It was enough for him to get to his knees.

As I struggled to get to my feet, the intruder picked up a piece of firewood and swung it in my direction. I tried to dodge the lumber, but it grazed my head enough so I saw stars and my knees buckled.

He slipped and fell on the wet gra.s.s as he took off running like h.e.l.l into the woods.

I attempted to run after him, but fell to my knees instead. The back yard was spinning. I got to my feet and stood, bent over with my hands on my knees, trying not to faint. Of course, it started to rain-what else?-as I stood for a moment longer, trying to get my bearings. Actually, the light rain may have saved me from pa.s.sing out.

Disgusted, scared, wet and a little shaky, I headed back to the house, trying to avoid the broken pieces of gla.s.s, and ran into Hannah.

"Good heavens," she said. "You're bleeding!"

"Call the police, Hannah. Now."

Hannah was at the phone before I even finished.

Maggie rushed into the living room. "What the h.e.l.l happened?"

"Someone was in the house." I started shaking uncontrollably.

"Christ," Maggie looked around, as if ensuring no one else was there before looking back at me. "Kate, you're bleeding."

I impatiently waved her off. "We have to make sure there's no one else in the house."

With that, we heard sirens. Within a minute or two, there were police at both the front and back doors.

A policeman in full rain gear was standing in the middle of the room talking to Maggie. She gave me a very worried look. I looked back outside and saw two other policemen with flashlights combing the back yard. Thankfully, the rain had stopped.

One of them poked his head in. "Can you come out here, please?"

"No, Steve, she cannot," Hannah answered harshly.

"Hannah, I need-" Steve started.

I waved my hand. "Let's get this over with." I was freezing, wet and tired, and not necessarily in that order.

"You okay?" Steve asked me.

"I'll live," I said.

"What happened?" he asked.

As I told him everything, he wrote it down in his book. He then looked around the yard. "Any idea who it might be?" he asked as we made our way back inside.

"No, I don't, but earlier I thought I saw someone out in the woods when I was out with my dog. I thought it was my imagination, but I guess not." I looked over at Maggie, who threw a shocked look in my direction.

"I guess not," he agreed. "You're lucky. You could have been hurt. As it was, you handled yourself pretty well. So, whoever it was, was wearing black. That narrows it down."

I stared at the floor in contemplation. Something wasn't right.

He waited for a moment watching me. "Something else?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. It's just, well, he didn't seem that strong. I was surprised that's all." I scratched my head. "Maybe it was the adrenaline." However, I knew that wasn't it. It annoyed me. I was missing something.

Two other policemen had checked the house and, of course, found nothing. They checked the cellar and every room in the house. The only sign of the break-in was the shattered French doors. A third officer was dusting for fingerprints around the doors.

Steve looked at me. "Your forehead is bleeding, better get that looked at."

I felt the side of my head with my fingers. It was sticky with blood. As I turned away, I heard him continue.

"Hey, your shoulder is bleeding too. Hannah, you'd better call Doc Jenkins."

"I'm all right, I think," I said, looking at my right shoulder. I didn't want to move any farther, fearing someone would find I had sprung a leak somewhere else.

Both Hannah and Maggie were immediately at my side.

"Christ Kate," Maggie said as she touched the side of my face. She then looked through the rip in my shirt and examined my shoulder.

Steve slipped the small notebook into his vest pocket. "I'll have a deputy get some plywood on the window tonight, Maggie. Would you like me to take her over to the clinic?"

"No, thanks Steve, we'll take care of her."

"Well, Mike and I will cruise the area for the rest of the night and Ed will stay out in front." He turned to me. "I'm glad you weren't injured too badly. Goodnight, ladies, I'll keep in touch."

When he had gone, Maggie turned to me and, once again, I saw an irritated look. "You need st.i.tches, let's go."

She made a phone call and grabbed her keys.

"I'm fine," I said stupidly but no one listened as they pushed me out the door.

"Miss Winfield?" We all turned to see Bedford limping out of the darkness. Well at least he's off the list of suspects. "I just talked with the police, Miss," he said to Maggie.

"Good, please be careful, Bedford. Someone nearly killed Miss Ryan. We're taking her to the clinic. Please, stay with the police. We shouldn't be long."

"I am sorry, Miss Ryan," he said.

"You and me both, Bedford," I replied.

He nodded and stepped back as I got into the car. I saw the concerned look on his face.

For some reason a shiver swept through me. Bedford gave me the creeps.

We drove a mile or so outside of town and pulled up to a two-story building that stood on the top of a hill, set back into the woods. It looked rather ominous perched up there by itself and set back into the woods.

We met Doc Jenkins who ushered me into a small emergency room. Hannah offered to wait outside in the small waiting room.

"Maggie, check her vitals," Doc said.

I was confused. How can she do this? She took my blood pressure and everything else that accompanies it.

"Are you a doctor or something?" I asked the obvious question.

"Or something," she said, continuing her work.

Doc smiled and used scissors to cut the sleeve of my shirt. "I'd say ten, maybe twelve, sutures. What do you think, Maggie?"

She looked and agreed. She was checking the cut on my eyebrow. She put some liquid on it that made me jump.

"Sit still, please," she said. She put her hand on my neck to hold me. I felt the warm fingers and felt my heart racing. Don't take my blood pressure now.

"So, you're a doctor?" I asked again, as I watched her, completely intrigued.

Doc answered for her. "Almost. If she'll get off her duff and finish her internship, she can take over for me and I can retire. That's the game plan anyway."

I noticed the affectionate exchange and I glanced around the room. "I saw a sign that read The Winfield Clinic. Hannah mentioned it earlier. The family business?"

Maggie nodded with a shrug.

"I understand your grandfather started it," I said and looked at Doc. I had a feeling I wasn't going to get any information out of Maggie right now for some reason.

"That's correct. Back in the fifties, Alexander Winfield, Maggie's grandpapa, spent big money to have a clinic started. Of course, it had to be in his name and n.o.body was going to argue with him since he had more money than anyone else in this town could ever hope to see," he said, preparing my torture.

"Which he got from his business?" I asked.

Doc glanced at me then nodded. "Hannah's been talking I see. Yes, Alexander was a very good businessman."

"So, he wasn't a doctor. Who ran it back then?"

"Well, Nathan and I were finishing med school. He told Nathan to run the clinic. I was here as well to begin with then started my own practice in town. It started out a small clinic but, by the sixties, it was as efficient as a small hospital. It took a while to get the state to approve it, but Nathan was proud of it, and he should be. He worked hard. I have to admit, as much as I hate to give credit to Sarah, she kept that clinic going and kept fighting for it. She was on the Board of Directors along with Nathan, Old Man Winfield, Jonathan and Hannah. How she wrangled that one I don't know."

"Wrangled? I don't understand? Isn't she a Winfield?" I asked, looking at both of them.