The Devil's Storm Read online

  Finally, he saw the house.

  His heart sank. How many times had he tried to convince Madeleine that cutting those limbs back would have been the best idea?

  For the most part, the house looked fine. His and Madeleine’s makeshift hurricane shutters even seemed to have worked well. But a tall towering oak had slammed straight into the third story of the house. And if their roof was damaged, who knew what else could be.

  Adrian drove around to Drayton, searching for a car nearby that might have been Madeleine’s. Maybe he had beaten her there. He prayed he had. He parked the Jeep as close as he could to the house, then got out to survey the damage. Sloshing through the water and checking out the damage was a visual workout. Adrian’s research about reentry after a hurricane had rendered him scared to death of the possibility of snakes. It wasn’t that he hated snakes, but this was Georgia. With six, highly venomous species of snakes slithering around, he didn’t want to take his chances of getting tangled up with any of them.

  Outside, branches and other unidentified debris littered the yard. One of the hurricane shutters on the second story swung down, crushed in defeat. Adrian made a note to check that window later. Finally wading his way up to the front gate, he pushed it open and thanked goodness the house actually sat a good foot above the street level. Standing water filled the yard, and Madeleine’s plants and flowers she carefully tended were languishing.

  Adrian walked up to the front porch, dug his keys out of his pocket and held his breath before unlocking and opening the door. It creaked, as it always had before, and he pushed the door open and walked inside. “Maddie? Are you here?”

  Upon entry, everything looked perfectly normal. Things were exactly as they had left them. The floors and walls were dry, so if the tree through the roof had allowed for any water damage it didn’t seem to be visible at the moment. Until the house was properly inspected, it meant nothing, but so far, so good.

  He called for Madeleine again and searched from room to room for both her and hurricane damage. On the second story, he became more anxious, especially when he stepped into their bedroom. His mind kept skipping to the day he stepped on the second story landing of McCollum Manor, the water splashing through his running shoes. Adrian took a shaky breath but forced himself to turn their bedroom door handle.

  It was uncharacteristically dark in their bedroom. Normally, sunlight flooded the room through the three tall windows on the side of the room, now blocked by his storm shutters. Their bed was still made up, everything in its place as if this were a normal day in their life together. Adrian even spied Madeleine’s bottles of medication on her nightstand where she had left them. When he stepped towards the bathroom though, his heart nearly stopped. He stood in front of the door, hoping and praying to see nothing out of the ordinary. Not Madeleine laying slumped in the tub with a gallon

  of blood and—

  Determined not to see the horrific manifestation in his mind, Adrian pushed the door open and walked right in to see that his imagination was definitely beginning to run away with him. Relief spread through his veins to the point he had chills.

  “Thank you, God,” he whispered gratefully. From there, it was easier to inspect each room and bathroom on the second level, calling her name in every room. Relief spread as he went from room to room. They might have been going through a trial, but at least he’d gotten home before Madeleine and could ensure she’d be safe.

  It was time to inspect the third story. As soon as he made it to the top step, Adrian saw the damage from the fallen tree. It had clearly taken out a portion of the roof, and there was some structural damage done to the exterior wall as well. Lucky for them, they rarely came up here as they were all just “guest rooms”, but as Adrian inspected the area beneath the tree, he saw the floorboards buckling beneath its weight, water standing in the newly formed arc.

  “That’s not good,” Adrian muttered to himself. He crouched low to the floor, trying to get through a couple of branches to inspect the water collecting there in the floor. He reached out to snap off a small, rather brittle-looking limb in his way. It came off easily enough, but the second one was difficult. When he moved it, the tree creaked and shifted into a flop. His stomach fell in fear, but he laughed at himself for it later.

  Getting braver, he climbed over one branch to get a better vantage point of the damage below. He shimmied one leg over the branch, then settled carefully on his stomach and flashed his phone’s flashlight to see how much water had collected. Unfortunately, it looked like there were a few inches of water collected on the floor. That didn’t bode well for the stories below.

  Adrian sighed, then moved to put his cell back in his pocket. He knew some good crews from Atlanta that were experts on old house restorations. He would call them the second he got some reception. Adrian sat up on the branch, and branches around him gave another harder shake. By the time he heard the snap from above, it was too late. After a split second of excruciating pain, the perfectly clear, blue skies visible from the hole in the roof slowly pinpricked into darkness.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Madeleine stared up at the house in trepidation. She was home, but it didn’t feel like home. It had never felt like home. The old house wasn’t in the tip-top shape it was the day she left. She supposed that was her fault. From the moment she peeled away in her car, ready to start a new life in Savannah with Adrian, she hadn’t been even the least bit concerned with the fate of the house. Lee could have sold it and kept the money for all she cared. It would compensate him for all the time and money they had thrown into it. Moving here had been one of the worst decisions of her life.

  Obviously, she never learned, because here she was, back again at 123 Park Street. This hellhole, no matter how pretty Lee had made it, or how perfect a life she made with Adrian, this was where her mind took her whenever she heard the word ‘home’. It wasn’t fair. This place was a symbol of brokenness. Madeleine wanted to think of 26 East Gaston as home, and she would have sworn she had until yesterday. But when Adrian asked her where she was going, 123 Park Street was the first place she imagined. The word ‘home’ came tumbling right out of her mouth.

  “Home sweet home,” Evelyn whispered in her ear as she walked up to the porch. Madeleine peered at her jubilant face as she passed. With a sigh, she followed Evelyn with her keys in hand, hoping Lee hadn’t changed the locks when he left. She slid her old key inside, her heart pounding and stomach sinking as it turned with the swift click of the bolt.

  Evelyn walked right in, a twisted smile making her beautiful face reflect the sinister soul inside. Madeleine put one foot across the threshold, then the other. It was like stepping into frigid water. Evelyn, however, was turning circles inside as she bounced from room to room, happy to be home.

  “Your sweetheart of an ex-husband left everything just as it was,” Evelyn announced. “I’ve always said Lee was very intelligent. Not sure why you think Adrian’s the smart one. Lee knows people. Adrian just fiddles with machines. Knowing how to deal with people—what drives them, what they’ll do under pressure—that’s the useful skill here.”

  Madeleine shook her head. “I’m sorry, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

  Evelyn smirked. “He knew you’d be back home. And his sweet broken heart wanted you to have everything you needed coming back.”

  “Or he’s ridiculously rich and would just prefer to buy brand new everything when he moves,” Madeleine sighed. It had been exactly what they did when they moved to Adairsville from Buckhead. She had been perfectly fine with that. She wanted nothing that might remind her of Thomas.

  “Try that light switch,” Evelyn challenged. “I’ll bet he never turned off the utilities, just in case the love of his life came back home.”

  Madeleine rolled her eyes and turned to flip the switch. “Don’t be ridicu—”

  The chandelier in the foyer illuminated the room. Madeleine looked up to inspect it, just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving h
er. “Why wouldn’t he have everything shut off? It’s not like him to waste a dime.”

  “Again, love of his life,” Evelyn laughed. “He’s still in love with you.”

  Madeleine shook her head but ignored Evelyn as she reveled in being back at home. Madeleine drifted from room to room, observing each like an exhibit in a museum. It was her own, personal museum. There was so much history here. The few happy memories of her childhood, finishing her first novel upstairs in her room, the night she realized she was in love with Adrian, and the rainstorm where they sat on the porch and first dared to dream of a life together.

  But then there was everything else—her parents’ drunken fights that would keep her up in the middle of the night, the times those drunken rages would turn to her as a target instead, the first time she tried cutting herself, the thousands of times after, those first creeping feelings of depression.

  And of course, Evelyn.

  She’d first appeared to Madeleine in the kitchen. Madeleine

  couldn’t remember how old she’d been; maybe fourteen, fifteen? She’d been busy making dinner. Her mother passed out drunk on the sofa in the living room, and her daddy had been dead for over a year at that point. There was a gnawing sensation growing in her stomach as she cooked. Money had been even tighter since her daddy had died (heart attack, the doctors said, but Madeleine figured an overworked liver had played a part) and it didn’t help that her mother drank even more now that he was gone. She guessed in a way her parents loved each other, even in their dysfunctional state.

  Thinking about her family history, it wasn’t any surprise she’d ended up with Lee. At the core, her father was a kind man, but most of his sparkling personality got doused and hidden in alcohol. Madeleine was grateful for how well Lee had recovered from the past. She had always feared that Lee would suffer the same fate as her father, and if he hadn’t quit drinking, there was no reason it wouldn’t be possible.

  Madeleine finished making dinner and a weak attempt at waking up her mother from her stupor. She never tried too hard to wake her mother up. It wasn’t worth the trouble. She’d only be angry, and Madeleine had to admit she liked the silence. With her mother passed out, she could eat dinner and read with no interference. She supposed all teenagers enjoyed shutting themselves out of their parents’ lives, and she hadn’t been any different.

  “You look awful lonely.”

  Madeleine’s brows knitted as she pictured this homely-looking redhead standing in the threshold between the kitchen and hall. She was rail-thin, and her blazing red locks hung in dirty-looking ringlets. Her moon-pale skin was littered with cuts and bruises, and smudges of dirt and dust.

  “So do you,” Madeleine finally breathed in response.

  One would imagine this woman, not a day over nineteen, might stand with her shoulders drawn and head down. This was not the case with Evelyn. Evelyn stood tall and proud, with her bony chin jutted higher than the Queen of England’s.

  Madeleine was immediately in awe of her. “Would you like to join me? Maybe neither of us would be lonely.”

  Evelyn gave an icy smile. “Are you sure about that?”

  In retrospect, the statement should have been her first hint.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I have more if you want—”

  “I want to tell you a story,” Evelyn answered eagerly. “A long, terrible story, but oh, it’ll just excite and thrill every one of your

  senses.”

  Her smile burst from its cage. “I’ll go get my notebook.”

  “You’re gonna need it, sweetheart. Might wanna do yourself a favor and keep it on hand.”

  Madeleine carried a notebook and pen since that day. As Evelyn told her story, the more complicated and intricate it became, the stronger their bond became. Soon enough, Evelyn transformed into an elegant beauty, all while Madeleine seemed more and more withdrawn. Only Adrian noticed. Evelyn had been sucking her dry since day one. She was the pen; Madeleine was the ink well she bled dry.

  “Do you remember July 11th very well?” Evelyn asked, forcing Madeleine out of her memories.

  She suddenly felt a tiny spark of anger. “No. I don’t remember anything about it,” Madeleine snapped in response. Evelyn looked at her like a mother defied.

  “Let’s go upstairs.”

  “No. Let’s not. Let’s go outside instead. It’s a gorgeous day,” Madeleine said, heading toward the front door.

  “It’s raining,” Evelyn sighed.

  “I love it when it rains. Have I ever told you that?”

  Evelyn gave a high, tinkling laugh. “Of course you do. You’re a writer. Don’t you all love rain and lamenting this world while you pop your antidepressants to stay in it? You’re all such contradictions.”

  “I’ve always liked it. I like the sounds of it falling, the smell. Petrichor. That’s the word for that smell, you know.”

  Evelyn rolled her eyes, but followed her out to the front porch, regardless.

  “But you know what I like about rain the best?” she pressed. “I like the memories it brings. My favorite took place right here on this porch, the first time Adrian told me he loved me. And then it rained again our first night in Savannah. It all felt so right like it was coming full circle. I also remember the time my mother bought me a pair of red rain boots and we spent the entire afternoon jumping in puddles together across the yard. Or the time my daddy held me during a thunderstorm so powerful I thought the windows were going to burst every time the thunder rolled. I felt so secure there in his arms.”

  “What is the point of this?” Evelyn sighed in frustration.

  “The point is, Evelyn, that I have anxiety and depression, and I’ll

  probably have it my entire life. Being positive about my future may always be a challenge, but that doesn’t make me incapable of counting my blessings and accepting the good. My parents, Lee—they definitely weren’t perfect, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the good in them.”

  “You sound like Henry.”

  “Good. I hope I do because I know you’re only trying to bring me down again. You won’t succeed. As much as I’ve been through, there were good moments along the way. Those good moments are what I’m going to cling to in the middle of the storm.”

  Evelyn’s mouth fell into a harsh line as her jaw clenched. “So what about Adrian then?”

  Madeleine lifted her left hand and ran her fingers across her engagement ring. She remembered the moment he put it on her finger when he asked her to be his wife, the way it thrilled her soul. “I’m gonna marry him. I love him more than I ever thought I could, and I would be a thorn in Richard Atwood’s side for the rest of my days if that meant I got to be with Adrian.”

  “Even though he’s not the perfect man you thought he was?” Evelyn challenged.

  “Yep, and I’m going to thank God he’s not perfect. I can forgive him. His heart was in the right place, and I know that he’ll tell me the truth in the future—because he’s Adrian, and I would trust him with my life. But you, Evelyn? We’ve proven time and again you’re nothing but the devil, and I want you gone.”

  “Like you can make that happen.”

  “I’m counting to three.”

  “Not this again—”

  “One…”

  “Madeleine don’t you dare.”

  “Two…”

  “You can’t do this to me. I made you who you are!”

  “Three.”

  Evelyn was gone. Dissipated into thin air. It had been that easy and that difficult all along. Madeleine smiled, feeling more confident about her ability to get rid of Evelyn when the screeching of tires pierced her eardrums. By the time she looked up, a sleek, red sports car was barreling over the pebbled drive.

  “Lee?” Madeleine questioned as she peered through the windshield, and sure enough, he burst from the car and sprinted to

  where she was.

  “Maddie? You’re okay?” he questioned, looking her over. “Is everything fine?”<
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  “I’m fine,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be? Why are you here?”

  Lee looked confused. “I talked to Adrian last night. He was beside himself. He thought you went home to Savannah.”

  “Well, I did say home—”

  “And this morning, it hit me that maybe you didn’t go back to Savannah, but came here instead. Sure enough, I get this lovely picture of my gorgeous ex-wife from the security camera I had installed,” he said, showing her the very unflattering picture of her on Lee’s cell phone.

  “Oh,” Madeleine grimaced, looking at the picture. “So where’s Adrian?”

  “Where do you think he is?” Lee laughed. “You told him you were going home. He thought that meant Savannah, and he followed.”

  Madeleine’s heart fell. “Oh my God…Why did he do that? I thought he would just stay with your parents.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “He was going to go after you. Why wouldn’t he? He left as soon as he could.” Lee stopped, face twisting into a wince as he broke eye contact with her. “It’s very obvious he loves you.”

  Madeleine felt a pang of sympathy for Lee. It must have hurt him to admit that, but inside, worry was creeping like a shadow at sundown. “When did you last hear from him?”

  “Last night. No one’s heard from him and we can’t get a call out, either, but all the phone lines are probably still down.”

  Her bottom lip began to quiver, but she bit it and held it in. “I—I’ve got to go. I have really messed this up,” she dug for the keys in her pocket with quivering hands.

  Lee closed his hands over hers. “I’ll drive. You’re upset, and I don’t want to worry if you got home alive.”

  “Okay,” Madeleine agreed. It didn’t take a second thought. She

  went to the trunk of her rental car to get her suitcase, but Lee intervened and got it for her, packing it into the trunk of the tiny Tesla car. It was a journey she didn’t want to make alone, and she knew all too well that she would spend the entire time with her heart fluttering like a sparrow caught in a cage while worry coursed through her veins. All she could do was pray Adrian was perfectly