Blind Rage Read Free Page B

the roof and the rattle of water in the drainpipes, the chirps and warbles of birds outside, and the fluttering of leaves in a soft breeze. From all that background noise she could pick out the sound of quiet breathing, the rustle of fabric.
    Smells, too. Without even an audible sniff, she could taste the air around her, gathering in the faint scent of lavender, the stronger smells of caramelized bread and roasted coffee, as if someone had passed through the kitchen on the way to her room, and something else that reminded her of her young childhood—a buttery smell with a hint of lemon and vanilla that reminded her of the sugar cookies she’d made with her mother. And behind all that she caught a whiff of something sour, though not unpleasant. More like the smell of honest hard work. A little sweat and elbow grease.
    Tess realized that the feeling was probably what had pulled her out of the nightmare in the first place.
    She sat up and turned toward her closet. “Morning, Alice.”
    “Ah, you’re awake,” Alice said. “Good morning. I thought you might sleep forever. Isn’t today your big day?”
    “You know very well what day it is, Alice.”
    Tess heard her sigh.
    “I suppose I do,” Alice said. “Just a day like any other. Anyway, I’ve laid some things out here on your chair. Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”
    “I’ll be down in a minute.” Tess didn’t hear sounds of movement. “I don’t need any help. I’ve been doing this since I was three.”
    “And thank goodness for that,” Alice said. “I have enough to do around here without worrying about getting you in and out of your clothes.” Alice bustled toward the door, then paused. Tess opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Alice said, “All right. I’m going. I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.”
    Tess let her go without another word. The bedroom door closed with a soft click. Tess was glad that Alice had made no reference to her nightmare, though she must have been in the room or close by when Tess had screamed. She resented the fact that Alice still treated her like a child sometimes.
    I’m eighteen, for goodness’ sake. An adult.
    She swung her legs out of bed, got to her feet, and mentally pictured the layout of her room. With confident steps, she paced off the distance to the bathroom door, put out her hand, and touched the molding of the door frame. She could get ready in her sleep. It was the rest of the day she wasn’t so sure about.
    While she washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair, Tess thought about Alice. Short and slight, Alice was rather plain, though not unattractive. Tess didn’t know how old she was, but the fact that Alice never wore makeup and almost always had her mousy brown hair wound up in a bun at the back of her head made her look older than she probably was. Tess knew she had a kind heart, but her manner was as severe as her appearance.
    Alice had been part of the family for almost as long as Tess could remember—first as a nanny when they’d lived in California, and then as a full-fledged housekeeper after they’d moved to the Pacific Northwest. Alice had never been what Tess had considered warm and cuddly. Practical, maybe, or efficient—those words described her better. Tess had always gotten along with Alice, but they hadn’t exactly been best buddies. Alice had been perfectly capable of pitching in when her mother had been too busy—taking Tess to gymnastics or piano lessons, helping with homework, that sort of thing. But Tess had never confided in Alice or snuggled up with her the way she had her mother.
    Family—as if I even have such a thing anymore.
    However much a misnomer, though, she supposed it was true. Alice was her family now. And what an odd, untraditional family it had become. Ironic, a housekeeper named Alice—like this was yet another episode of The Brady Bunch . The problem was that Alice wasn’t her real family, not her real mother, but she’d taken over